..... umma ..

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Allahu Akbar (Takbir) - الله أَكْبَر

Subhan'Allah (Tasbih) - سبحان الله 

Alhamdulillah (Tahmid) - الحمد لله 

La ilaha ilallah (Tahlil) - لا إله إلا الله 

La hawla wa la quwwata illa billah (Hawqala) - لا حول ولاقوة إلا بالله

Jika aku menginginkan lebih, maka ikhtiarku harus lebih.
—  Aku menginginkan laki-laki yang terjaga. Yang tidak terbiasa dengan perempuan. Bukan tidak sama sekali, namun mampu menempatkan diri, mampu menjaga dirinya sebagai seorang muslim. Bisa membentengin dirinya dan pihak lain dari celah syetan berlaku. Agar anak-anakku (kelak) mampu mencontoh bukan dari lisan, namun dari laku ayah ibunya sendiri. Menjadi anak-anak yang menjaga dan terjaga. Aamiin
youtube

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) UNSEEN FOOTAGE OFFCAM

old but gold vid

Ibu Lelah? Rehatlah

Semalam saat saya baru saja membuka laptop untuk membuat tulisan di hari ke 9,sebuah pesan masuk :

“Saya lelah mbak.Rasanya hanya saya yang harus bertanggung jawab untuk semuanya.Waktu rasanya begitu cepat,sementara saya melihat diri saya tidak mencapai apapun…saya minder kalau ketemu temen-teman lainnya,rasanya saya doang yang gini-gini aja…”

“saya merasa tidak bahagia..rasanya berputar putar terus di rutinitas yang sama.Di rumah rasanya hati saya gak tenang..tiap hari ada saja masalah yang dibuat oleh anak-anak.Anak-anak gak nurut kalau diberi tau..melawan terus,suami malah keliatannya lebih asik di luar rumah…”

•••
saya terpaku, membayangkan situasi yang terjadi di rumahnya.

Saya memperhatikan pola seperti ini sering sekali terjadi,dan mungkin sebagiannya pernah juga dialami oleh saya&jutaan ibu lainnya.

Ada rasa lelah yang sangat besar, yang pada akhirnya mengambil rasa bahagia ibu,dan lambat laun mengambil rasa bahagia seluruh anggota keluarga.

Saya tentunya tidak akan membahas kisah ibu tersebut di tulisan ini,tapi saya tergugah untuk menulis sebuah perspektif tentang kata “lelah”

Saya teringat sebuah nasehat yang dikiaskan dalam bentuk sebuah narasi antara iblis dan syetan :

“Jika kau ingin merusak sebuah keluarga, rusaklah dulu ibunya!!”

beri ia perasaan akan rasa lelah bertubi yang membuatnya merasa lemah dan habis energi

jika ia sudah merasa lelah, ambil rasa syukurnya

biarkan ia merasa bahwa hidupnya habis untuk mengurus keluarga dan buatlah ia tidak memiliki apapun, selain lelah yang didapatnya

setelah kau ambil rasa syukurnya, buatlah ia menjadi orang yang tidak percaya diri

sibukkan pandangan matanya untuk melihat kebahagiaan orang lain dan buatlah ia lupa akan kebaikan yang ia miliki,

buatlah ia merasa minder dan merasa tidak berharga

jika itu sudah terjadi, ambilah juga sabarnya,

gaduhkan hatinya agar ia merasa ada banyak hal yang berantakan dalam rumahnya, buatlah ia merasa betapa banyak masalah yang ditimbulkan dari anak-anaknya, dari suaminya

goda lisannya untuk berkata kasar,
Hingga nanti anak-anak mencontohnya dan tak menghargainya lagi, lalu bertambahlah kemarahan demi kemarahan, hilanglah aura syurga dalam rumah

dan kau akan menemukan perlahan, rumah itu rusak…dari pintu seorang Ibu
….

Sekali lagi, makhluk penting itu bernama Ibu,

Lelah yang tidak selesai menjadi tempat masuknya syetan,

Ia mengambil bahagiamu, mengambil sabar dan syukurmu wahai ibu,

Jangan biarkan syetan mengambil itu,
Jika kau lelah, rehatlah.
Jika kau lelah, berbagilah

Sungguh tak ada satupun yang akan membiarkanmu merasa sakit sendiri
jika kau pandai menghargai dirimu,

Ringankan tugasmu bu,
Jangan menekan dirimu terlalu keras,
Sesekali tak masalah rumahmu kotor
tak masalah betapa banyaknya pekerjaan yang belum kau tuntaskan

Jangan terjebak dalam waktumu bu,
sungguh tugas muliamu jauh lebih penting dari sekedar rutinitas yang kau lakukan setiap harinya

rehatlah,
Jika pun tak mungkin kau tempuh jarak puluhan kilo untuk segarkan diri,

Sekedar menepi, menepilah
beri waktu untuk dirimu sendiri,

Sekedar melihat betapa banyak kebaikan yang kau punya,
betapa manisnya keceriaan anak-anakmu,
betapa bertanggungjawabnya suamimu,

rasakan pelukannya,
ada cinta dan ketulusanmu dalam tegap badannya

Kau berharga ibu,jangan pernah lupakan itu.

•••
Kualalumpur Dini Hari

malam ini jadi malam penuh refleksi buat saya
bisa jadi kita pernah mengalami hal yang sama akan rasa lelah yang bertubi

tapi, saat mendengar masalah orang lain,kita semakin sadar bahwa perspektif kita menentukan cara pandang kita terhadap masalah

jika kita melihat peran ini sebagai beban,maka kita hanya akan sampai pada titik lelah

jika kita memandang diri hanya sebatas pelaku rutinitas,kita tidak akan menemukan ruhnya

rewarding your self mom,
sungguh peranmu jauh lebih besar dari semua keluhanmu

jangan biarkan syetan merusak bahagia dengan mengambil rasa sabar dan syukurmu

karena dari bahagiamu,tercipta ketahanan sebuah keluarga

sofiana indrasari

Dari grup wa parenting IAIC

A sublimated murder: A Visual Analysis of Frida with Globe (1938)

Frida Kahlo sits with her arm on the table holding the head, slightly lifting her jaw, looking at us with a hint of contempt and ineffable sadness, as if losing in thoughts. There is a wooden table on her left side with a globe carefully placed on a pedestal which at first reminds me of the magic power of her paintings—the madness and extreme emotion expressed in the vibrate colors, themes of pain and death. The globe here, together with Frida herself, more or less make me relate her to the figure with magical power, which also reminds me of one of her quotes, “Take a lover who looks at you like maybe you are magic.”

The photo was taken in the photographer Manuel Alvarez Bravo’s studio, which implies that the interior is more or less arranged on purpose by the photographer. He tactfully takes advantage of the globe—whether as a prop or a metonymy to reflect the whole interior of the room without which we could not see in this photo. Now through the curve surface of the glassy globe we can tell the void interior of the room—a small door, two windows, almost no furniture, empty ceiling, empty wall, empty space, as if totally exposed to the spectators. However, we could see, through the photographer’s lens, what Frida wears—the long cotton dress with rich layers and different patterns, the shawl, assorted necklaces made of wooden beams, earrings—are the exact opposite of the “exposed”, as if she wants to wrap herself up through layers of the thick material on her body to feel secured. The surface of the table is also covered with the soft striped tablecloth so that her arm would not touch the coldness of the wooden surface, making the possible expose to the outside world out of the question.

What I read through Manuel’s photo is that Frida tries to cover herself by separating from everything in the outside world, in the attempt of protecting herself from the unknown danger and pain. He rendered her as a figure who looks vulnerable and feminine through the comparison between emptiness and fullness, the physical implications—the flowery pattern dress, earrings and necklaces, and also the gesture, which, to some extent, totally challenges the figure what Frida see herself in the self-portrait she painted. In her most famous Self-portrait with Thorn Necklace and Hummingbird (1940), she portraits herself almost looking more like a man, or to say, a king in his own kingdom through the thick coal-black eyebrows, the light moustache, the sharp eyes, and the majestic looks. By using the huge contrast between the “covered” and the “exposed”, the photographer successfully kills the figure that the artist see herself.

The photograph also reverses the spectators’ impression of the artist through most of her paintings, which always relates to madness, extreme passion, bold expressions and daring styles. Say, A Few Small Nips (1935), which was based on the most heart-broken event for Frida—her husband Diego’s affair with her young sister Christina.

In the painting, a naked woman lay on the bed, with blood and knife wounds all over her body, totally exposed to the out world. A man stands besides her, holding a knife in hand with a slightly evil smile. The blood on the scene even goes out of the painting—the shocking red deliberately being painted on the frame of the painting, which in some way suggests that the reality is equivalent to the picture, that she is a painful suffer in the real life like the woman being murdered. As she said, ”I never painted dreams. I painted my own reality.” The title of the painting A Few Small Nips originated from a news report about an unfaithful woman being murdered, and the murderer defended himself by saying “but it was just a few small nips.” The giant contrast between the subject depicted in the picture—the severed wounded woman and the ironic title A Few Small Nips intensifies her emotional wounds and pain, almost like a murder.

While in Manuel Alvarez Bravo’s Frida with Globe, Frida seems strangely calm and introverted out of the way, with a kind of detached look on her face, covered heavily with rich layers of clothes, with one hand on the knee and resting her chin on the other hand. A woman just likes a typical middle-class madame, mild and normal, who we would probably feel quite comfortable to sit with, without feeling any threat, roughness or aggressiveness, which is actually penetrated in her paintings. Again, the photographer challenges the figure of Frida in audiences’ minds by portraying her as a harmless, mild, and gentle woman.

These two gaps—one between the subject which the photographer captured and the figure Frida see herself, and the other between what photographer try to shoot the artist and what the third part—audiences see the artist—reminds me of the famous words in Susan Sontag’s On Photograph, “ To photograph people is to violate them, by seeing them as them never see themselves, by having knowledge of them they can never have…Just as the camera is a sublimation of the gun, to photograph someone is a sublimated murder.” (Sontag, P11-12)

Here, Manuel Alvarez Bravo successfully completes the duel “sublimated murder” by capturing the artist in his own words through constructing contrast between the “exposed” and the “covered” and other detailed implications, killing both the figure artist see herself and the image of the artist in our mind. He “intervenes” the picture rather than simply served as a recorder. (Sontag, P10)

And I, as a third-person narrative, also achieve this “sublimated murder” by deconstructing the photograph through my visual analysis, trying to interpret something may or may not intended in my own words.

Written by: Mo Zhang

Works Cited: Susan Sontag, One Photograph. London : Allen Lane, 1978. Print.