I reblogged from candyexpress.
Never take your freedom for granted.
That’s what I learnt today.
Last week, my friend shared a poem, Pria Juga Menangis. Part of the poem: “Do you know, actually, men cry lot? You can’t see the tears, he hides them to get his wits about him. This is the reason why in His [Allah] Wisdom He [Allah] granted the men a degree [of intelligent] above them [women]” (Tahukah engkau, kaum pria sesungguhnya jauh lebih sering “menangis”. Namun mereka menyembunyikan tangisnya di dalam kekuatan akalnya. Itulah mengapa Allah menyebutkan pada pria terdapat dua kali lipat akal seorang wanita).
Personally, it did bothered me. As a single mother, if you read the rest of the poem, I believe I show pretty good responsibility to my little family. At the same time I cry – a lot! Both secret and overt tears. Albeit, I am pretty sure – I keep my wits about me. Would God appreciate me less because I am a woman?
Academically and morally, it does also bother me: that I take my freedom for granted.
That I have my freedom to wear what ever I like. To travel any where I like. To achieve my dreams. To pursue my happiness. To define my self the way I like. To make friends with anyone, both men and women and in between. To groom my self. To work. To speak. To study. To be a woman.
In some places, I believe, there are women, take that poem for granted.
That burqa is the best outfit (free them from stoning). That arranged marriage is the best love (free them from honour killing). That to stay at home is the best sanctuary (free them from whipping). To close the eyes is the most beautiful scenery (free them from being burnt with fire, gasoline or acid). That to be the obedient wife is the perfect job (free them from being given rope to hang themselves).
In some other places, I guess, there are women, take stone and whip for granted.
That their body is the battlefield with rape as the weapon: 1,152 women are raped every day. 48 women are raped per hour. “They are gang-raped, raped with bayonets and some have guns shot into their vaginas”.
I do not want to take my freedom for granted any more. “Freedom” that I have perhaps that I do not know there is, somewhere, the real freedom exists. My freedom blinds me to see that I am not free. Not yet. Freedom that comforts me, that I am not aware to possibly imprison others – or, make a prison as a comfort zone for others.
I do not want to take my freedom for granted any more, but being infinite grateful for my freedom right now.
If you know what I mean.
I borrow the pic from that site.