Questions

Farhan was lying on his bed that afternoon after school, his eyes were on the ceiling fan but he wasn’t really looking but something beyond the fan in fact. He took a deep, long breathe and fall asleep after awhile.

“Why it’s only you who screwed up, Farhan? All of your friends now have jobs. Some of them are married. Got kids. Pretty wives somemore. You, what you got?”

Farhan woke up from his sleep. It was a short nap but yet, the harsh words by his late mother still stuck in his brain even though he was sleeping. He was devastated early that year when his mother passed away. Reason of death was unknown; she was only 59 years old and lived with no sickness. Farhan missed his mother dearly. Only when she’s gone. It’s true that people say, when you’re gone, people will listen to you, talk about you and become so popular but funny that they don’t have a clue who the hell you were.

“Why did God put me in this damn hard situation? Why did He torture me? Why did He take my father, then also my mother? Why does He love seeing me in sadness and depression?”

Farhan took a long shower that evening. He was working in a McDonald restaurant near to his house from 8pm to 5am. He chose to work at night because that’d be the reason he could give to his friends if any of them asked him to hang out. He clearly had no reason to have fun anymore, he thought.

“What’s the point of having fun when the life I’m living is fucked up? I’ll just have some money for me, only me to eat and pay the fucking bills. What else? Oh the TV,  but wait, why do I even watch TV?”

Farhan punched his work card, as usual, he was one of the earliest ones who came for the night shift. He didn’t have any thing else to do, at least that was what he was thinking.

That night, he was a cashier instead of doing job at back. He didn’t like to face people, but he just had to take it when he was told to.

“Hi, good evening, can I get your order, miss?” Farhan asked a sweet young lady, probably at her early 20s, seemed like a college student. He also gave the young lady a smile, but it wasn’t sincere. She replied his smile but it didn’t make Farhan any happier.

“I want Fillet-o-Fish, set please. Lemon tea.”

“Regular or large, miss?”

“Large, please.” She replied while looking at her phone, smiling because her boyfriend sent her a text message telling her that he missed her.

“That’s RM 10.10, miss”

Farhan saw the money in her hand but she was busy with her phone, replying the message she got.

“Miss?” Farhan called her twice, but she wasn’t listening.

“What the fuck..” He accidentally said it out loud, loud enough that the lady could hear him.

The lady looked up and she seemed shock.

“What did you say? What the fuck? Well, how appropriate you are, Farhan.” She replied while reading his name on his nametag. She put a ten ringgit note and a one ringgit note on the table instead of handing to him.

“I’m sorry, miss. It’s a habit. I’m sorry.” Farhan took the money and gave her change.

“It’s okay-lah” she replied, but it’s obvious that her mood was spoiled.

After that incident that night, Farhan became more careful. He became a robot.

“What actually deteriorated in myself? What happened to old Farhan who had so much spirit to be one successful man? Why did it end like this? Why did I give up?” Is it all me to be blamed for this?

On the way back home, he once again asked God, why on earth he was placed here, in such condition. Why couldn’t he be in the Sultan’s son’s shoes? Why does he have to work fucking hard? Why did he lose his mother? Why couldn’t he enjoy life?

            Farhan arrived home after five-minute walk. It was already time for morning prayer. Realising that he always skipped it, he wanted to try, try praying to God, because he used to get comfort after lowering his head to the ground. Apparently, he wasn’t giving his full attention to Him because so many wild thoughts come when he was praying. Like the questions he was having. And new questions too.

            Farhan took his hands out and recited some du’a, prayer. Something struck him but he didn’t know what was it. But he felt comfort, he felt better after the night. He felt so much cleaner, even though he actually neglected a lot of his prayers. But he just felt so.

            That morning, Farhan figured out that the first step to get out of this hell life, he must answer the questions first. Farhan wiped his own tears because he was alone and there was no shoulder to lend onto. But he thought he was strong and now he gained back his self-esteem and realised that he was accounted for what he’s facing, and it’s all him to repair it. Farhan’s mother’s harsh words would never get off of his brain but he refused to think so much anymore, to question what He has written in his life book. He wiped his face after the du’a and smiled…