Saturday, April 23, 2011

“FIFA VS FIFA”


“I am not free”
picture by Pink Sherbet Photography of flickr.com

English Coloumn of Langit Ilahi 
Date: 22/4/2011
By: Ameen Misran

There is an International Seminar on Peace and Humanitarian Aid for Gaza,
Tomorrow (23/4/2011) at Conference Room, Cultural and Activity Center (CAC), IIUM,
From 8.30 am to 5.00 pm,
A program organized by Haluan Palestine, Yayasan Belia Malaysia (YBM) and Journalism Club IIUM.
I’ll be the MC for this one day program. Huh.
Need to charge up my spirit of Bring that Peace, Break the Siege!
So this is from me!

“FIFA VS FIFA”

^_^

“Tit tit… Tit tit” The ring tone on Amir’s HTC HD Mini sounded. He unlocked the screen.

Bro! Tonight is the night man! Your team and my team are up. Real Madrid vs. Barcelona. Come let’s hang out and see who will win. Like old times man! You and I…

Sender:
Abdul Qawy
0193900000

Amir leaned back on the seat of his 12 year old Kancil Produa after reading the message.
Do I have to go? I really love soccer. I love to watch my favorite players in action. I love Real 
Madrid!

But….

I already have a family not like the old times. I have my priorities.

But….

They are my childhood friends. I usually hang out with them.

Arghh! I do not know what to say!

“Tit tit… Tit tit” another message came into my inbox.

Still waiting for your reply man. Restoran Saffiyah, Taman Universiti. In one hour. Make up your mind and reply bro.

Sender:
Abdul Qawy
0193900000

What do I have to reply?

*************************************************

OUT OF EAGERNESS, a little child came running down the stairs rushing towards his father “Papa, what does FIFA stand for?” asked that child wanting an immediate answer from his father.

Amir who was watching the live match between Germany vs. England on Astro ESPN was bothered by the trivial question from his second born. He did not want any uproar, not when England is in action! So he just ignored his son as if he never heard a thing and placed his eyes on the plasma flat screen TV.

“Dad, are you there?” asked Amar while massaging his father’s back. Amir shakes his body as a silent sign of “do not disturb me, I’m busy”, but what more can Amir expect from his 8 year old son to understand body language? So Amar goes off from massaging to tickling his father right in the armpit.

“Ok ok, all right already, I lose, you win, what was your question again?” Amir admits defeat. He slowed down the screaming volume coming from the TV; the house living room seemed quite after that.

“What does FIFA stand for?” Amar repeated his question.

“FIFA is the abbreviation for The Fédération Internationale de Football Association in French or in English the International Federation of Football Association, happy now?” said Amir while increasing again the TV volume. It was 2:0 now, Germany 2, England 0. “England, do something quick!” Cried Amir wanting his favorite team shine!

“Dad?! Are you ok?”  Amar was puzzled after seeing his father screaming ‘Go England Go’ and gripping tight his fist while punching the air.

At the 37’ minute of the game, Steven Gerrard gave a cross; the ball flew right into where Mathew Upson wants it. But before Mathew could do anything, the Plasma flat screen TV blacked out. Nothing was there, no Stadium, no field, no ball and no goal.

What happened? There’s no black out, the lights were still on. Everything was quite. “Where is the remote?”His inner voice screamed out of anger! Amir was still focusing on the black screen then suddenly what appeared in front of him was his son’s face, not what he hoped for.

“Dad, I called you like ten times already but you didn’t hear me out” Amar said while holding 
the black remote controller in his hands.

“Why you little…” Amir’s face was red all over; his rage grew intense by the moment, any minute now he can burst out. But after seeing his son’s cute little face, the face full of inquiry. He calmed down. Took a deep breath and said “What is it this time?”

“Dad, mama said that FIFA stands for FIGHT ISRAEL FREE AQSA, F=Fight, I=Israel, F=Free and A=Aqsa. Isn’t it right papa?” Amar told his father while spelling with his fingers.

“Papa…papa…daddy…are you there?” now Amar is puzzled for the second time after seeing his father stiff like a rock.

Amir sank in his own thoughts. The voice of his son faded away slowly. FIGHT ISRAEL FREE AQSA?! Free AQSA?!

He then flashed back on how his enthusiasm to help our brothers and sisters in GAZA, he drove his family from Johor to Melawati Stadium Shah Alam just to join a concert, not any ordinary concert but the Palestine Mass Gathering, Concert Life Line 4 GAZA on 13 Mei 2010, about a month and a half ago. He donated about RM1 thousand to the LL4G project.

On 31 May 2010, during the raid of Israeli Commandos on Mavi Marmara, he was one of the busiest persons writing articles and forwarding text messages condemning the brutal act of Israel towards this humanitarian aid.

On 4th June 2010, he pleaded a day off from his employer for the sake of taking part in the demonstration in front of the US Embassy.

But starting on 11 June 2010, the drive of “Let Us free Aqsa” and “Let Us Unite for Palestine” gradually diminished from him. What happened on June 11th 2010? This is the day where the title “The most prestige’s sport” came into action. It was the starting of the World Cup 2010 South Africa.

“Astaghfirullah…”

Freeing Al-Aqsa was my dream! Breaking the siege on Gaza was my mission! But what I have done?

How can I say that I am aware about Palestine when I have my time with the fake meaning of FIFA. How come?

How come I say I love my brothers and sisters in Palestine when I have feeling enjoinment and tranquility while my brothers and sisters strife’s to live?

I am busy with all the bills I have to pay, but they, they are busy whether or not they can survive another day?

What brotherhood am I portraying? Ukhuwah Islamiyah? NO. I am a disgrace to the Muslims.

How can I claim that Al-Aqsa is Muslims and Muslims alone but in the same time I feel enjoyment in the ‘fun’ created by the enemies of Islam?

What am I? Am I really a Muslim? Or a Muslim only by name?

If I am a Muslim, why do I remember the names of football players more than the name of Muslim scholars?

If I am a Muslim, why can I spend countless hours in front of the television watching a soccer match, but when it comes to Qiamullail, even two rakaah is hard for me!

Why is this happening to me? Why can’t I see clearly?

The black box in front of me is a ‘stupid box’ once said by Syed Qutb, but I watch that stupid box all day. I am also stupid then.

“Astaghfirullah… Astaghfirullah…”

I’m crying now. I always fulfill my life with sins, always transgressing bounds with defiant grins.

“Astaghfirullah… Astaghfirullah…”

“Amar… Come here” Amir called for his son.

Amir hugged his son. Tight. He looked at his son. “I love you son” tiny droplets of tears 
came running through his cheeks.

“Thanks for making me realize.” He added.

Amar was a bit confused of what was going on. A minute there his father was full of energy, but after the Plasma TV is off, now he is crying. He doesn’t get it.

“Son, from this day onwards, I will become a new person!”

“I will never let Shaytan control me. I will never let other ideologies take over me.”

“I will uphold FIGHT ISRAEL, FREE AQSA!”

“This is my promise. You are my witness my son.”

*************************************************

Sorry bro. I have no time to waste time even a special match between Real Madrid and Barcelona. FIGHT ISRAEL, FREE AQSA. That is part of their plan to make us Muslims forget our vision and mission. Sorry, can’t join ya

Sender:
Amir
0137373733

Yes. I have made a promise to my son not to let Shaytan take control over me in all causes!
This is the proof trustworthiness! I keep my word!

And I hope you will not follow my bad side. Just follow my good side.

Please.

I beg you.

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