Ya Aku

kalau kamu tanya aku
siapa cowok paling tampan ya aku
kalau kamu tanya aku
siapa cowok paling baik ya aku
kalau kamu tanya aku
siapa lelaki yang paling mencintaimu
sudah pasti jawabannya tidak lain tidak bukan ya aku

kalau kamu tanya aku
siapa cewek yang paling cantik ya kamu
kalau kamu tanya aku
siapa cewek yang paling baik ya kamu
kalau kamu apa aku cinta dan sayang pada dirimu
sudah pasti akan aku jawab I Love You

tak mungkin ku akan bisa
mencari cari lagi lainnya
sudah cukup bagiku hanya engkaulah satu-satunya
hay cinta
percayalah padaku

janganlah engkau ragu kepadaku
kan ku ajak kau tuk menjelajahi dalam bercinta

"Lirik Lagu J-Rocks Ya Aku"

Lirik ini bener bener gombal, tapi gue suka :)

Gombal pada saat ini bener-bener lagi jadi tren ya, ga hanya cowo aja yang jago gombal, cewe juga ada yang gila stadium 13  gombalnya, ga tau dia dapet dari mana. kebanyakan gaul kali tuh bocah. 

kalo cowo gombal ya itu biasa, tapi kalo cewe gombal itu "luar biasa" :D

Medan, 18 Desember 2011

SECANGKIR KOPI DIPAGI HARI

Apa sih bedanya minum secangkir teh manis pagi hari menjelang berangkat ngantor dengan malam hari sambil nonton prime time di TV ? Kalo ditanyakan sama Om Newton, jawabannya “gak ada bedanya tuh ! sama-sama manis, cangkirnya juga sama !” karena Newton menjawab dengan teori Determinasi, dimana segala sesuatu bisa diukur dan sifatnya mutlak.

Coba deh tanya sama Om sebelahnya yang berkumis tebal dan rambutnya jarang disisir, namanya Om Einstein. Jawabannya pasti laen ! Karena Einstein menjawab dengan teori Relativisme-nya, tergantung suasananya. Pagi2 bangun kesiangan karena abis dugem pulang dini hari, materi presentasi belon disiapin, sarapan buru2…. secangkir teh manis, jelas tak senikmat ketika diminum malem hari sambil ngobrol santai bareng keluarga.

Artinya apa ?
Ketika diminum pagi hari dengan kondisi serba buru2… mulut juga sama monyongnya, teh juga sama ditelennya…. tapi pikiran dan perasaan tidak ikut keminum, karena berada di tempat dan situasi yang lain !.

Itulah pentingnya konsep here and now ! Kalo kita bisa menghadiran diri kita seutuhnya…. baik fisik maupun non-fisik, maka segala aktivitas kita jadi maksimal.
Hadirkan diri kita di sini, sekarang juga ! Termasuk ketika baca tulisan ini. Nikmatilah ! maka banyak sekali hal2 tak terduga yang bisa kita raih.

Kalo lagi kerja... konsentrasikan pada kerjaan, maka pekerjaan yang berat akan selesai lebih cepat dari yang kita rencanakan. Apalagi kalo kerja di tempat yang membutuhkan daya kreatifitas tinggi, suplai andrenalin harus banyak, maka akan bermunculan ide2 ’gila’ tersebut.
Kalo lagi ngobrol sama temen, dengerin cur-hat... maka kita gak cuman mendengar tapi juga mendengarkan.

Emang beda ?, ’mendengar’ sama ’mendengarkan’ ??
Sekilas nampaknya sih sama... tapi, kita sering denger temen lagi cur-hat berurai air mata, ketika kita diminta pendapatnya .... gelagapan. Karena kita cuman mendengar dan gak mendengarkan. Sering dengerin ceramah, seminar, pengajian... kita denger koq ! malah sampe ngantuk2 segala. Tapi kalo ditanya kesimpulannya.... boro-boro ! karena kita cuman denger doang belon sampe ndengerin. Yang namanya mendengarkan tuh bukan cuman aktivitas telinga doang, tapi pikiran mencatat... perasaan juga ikut bersimpati.

Kalo lagi sholat... jika here and now concept ini diterapkan, bisa bikin khusyu’ sholatnya. Gimana bisa sholat yang bener… kalo waktu sholat malah digunakan buat mengkalkulasikan tender, pitcing, side job…. begitu sholat selesai, tengok kanan-kiri… dah dapet keputusan… ambil tuh proyek ! Segera ! sebelum keduluan competitor !

Makanya gak heran…. sholat dah ratusan kali, tapi kemunkaran, kemaksiatan, korupsi tetep lancar aja jalan, karena sebenarnya belon sholat. Baru aktivitas berdiri, ruku’ sujud, duduk doang, belon masuk ke otak... boro-boro ke hati.
Gimana Allah akan mengingat kita, jika kita terlalu sering melupakan-Nya. Bahkan ketika sedang sholat sekalipun !

sumber : (Copas lagi dari Grup Nurulfikri Paledang)

Kita ini PEMIMPIN !

Pemimpin itu bukan orang yang serba super,tapi diciptakan untuk menjadi super oleh dirinya sendiri. Apapun organisasi yang kita pimpin, kita harus memiliki karakter yang kuat. Ciri yang khas, akan dilihat oleh pengikut kita, jika malas, ya siap-siap pengikut kita bodoh, tidak kreatif ya siap-siap pengikut kita mati kreatifitas, sering melakukan pembiaran ya siap-siap pengikut kita asal kerja. 

Sudah banyak didunia ini pemimpin-pemimpin hebat. Sudah bosan juga jika saya mengutarakan mereka satu persatu, jangan jauh-jauh melihat didunia orang lain, lihat saja dunia kita, dilingkungan kita ( jika anda bergaul). Lihat sosok ketua RT/RW kita yang bersahaja. Atau pimpinan sebuah kelompok keamanan dilingkungan kita, atau lihat cara kepemimpinan yang lainnya.

Seorang pemimpin juga harus bias meng-explore setiap kemampuan para anggotanya, jika dia memang pemimpin sesungguhnya. Setiap karakter pengikut kita berbeda beda, ada yang setia, temperamental, terlalu egois, penyayang, selalu mendahulukan kawan, dan sebagainya. Nah itu menjadi daya tarik unik yang bisa kita olah. Bukannya kita menyalahkan mereka, menasihatinya lebih tepat. Dan tunggulah kehebatan team anda jika anda bisa “mengendalikan” mereka.

Seorang pemimpin juga bisa memetakan kemampuan tiap individu anggotanya. Setiap anggota pasti memiliki kemampuan yang beraneka ragam. Maka dari itu tempatkanlah mereka sesuai bidangnya/keahliannya. Salah menempatkan orang berarti anda juga ikut berperan aktif “membunuh” kemampuannya.

Seorang pemimpin juga harus bisa berkomunikasi dengan mahir, jelas dalam menyampaikan apa yang diinginkan team, tidak ngalorngidul berbicara, bicara untuk makhluk bumi, bukan untuk makhluk dewa.

Seorang pemimpin juga harus memiliki konsep yang jelas, tau aturan main, jika tau aturan main, berarti harus di dukung dengan peraturan organisasi yang jelas. Jangan sampai ada pemimpin yang belajar dari kesalahan. Maksudnya,,, seorang pemimpin cerdas membaca lingkungan dan belajar dari kesalahan yang ada dilingkungan sekitarnya. Pengenalan medan tempur juga mutlak dilakukan, bukan membabibuta apa yang ada didepan kita guna mencapai hasil yang diinginkan. Bukan pula kita melakukan sesuatu tanpa ada rencana yang baik dan matang. Kembali lagi ke peraturan. Segala apapun hal sampai terkecil kalau perlu diatur dalam peraturan, agar rule permainanya jelas.

Dan yang terakhir, seorang pemimpin itu juga harus dekat dengan Tuhan yang menciptakannya, agar segala penyimpangannya selalu diingatkan oleh-Nya. Harus rajin beribadah, dan sifat pendukungnya harus rendah hati, sering melihat orang-orang yang dibawah kita, jangan sombong arogan, dan segala hal-hal yang buruk harus dibuang.

Copa del Rey Dilindas Bus

MADRID, KOMPAS.com — Tragis! Selagi euforia merayakan sukses menjuarai Copa del Rey, Real Madrid harus bersedih. Sebab, trofi yang diraih pertama kalinya sejak 1993 itu dijatuhkan defender Sergio Ramos hingga terlindas bus dan patah.

Real Madrid memang haus gelar. Mereka terakhir menjuarai Copa del Rey tahun 1993. Gelar terakhir yang diraih adalah Divisi Primera La Liga (sekarang Liga BBVA) pada musim 2007-08.

Rabu atau Kamis (21/4/2011), Madrid meledak dalam suka. Sebab, Cristiano Ronaldo mencetak gol kemenangan 1-0 atas rival abadi, Barcelona, di final Copa del Rey.

Pesta pun langsung digelar. Rabu malam, Madrid menggelar pesta di Plaza de Cibeles. Para pemain diangkut dengan bus dan memamerkan trofi Copa del Rey, yang disambut sekitar 150.000 pendukung. Guyuran hujan seolah menambah semarak perayaan tersebut.

Sergio Ramos pun sangat gembira. Saat mendapat giliran memegang trofi dan memamerkan kepada fans, dia mengangkatnya tinggi-tinggi.

Entah karena guyuran hujan, kelelahan, atau karena euforia, tiba-tiba trofi itu terlepas dari tangan Ramos. Dia gagal menangkapnya dan trofi jatuh di depan bus. Trofi itu sempat dilewati bus tersebut dan setelah muncul di belakangnya sudah dalam kondisi rusak dan patah.

Rasa suka seluruh publik Madrid pun seolah tertampar dan menjadi duka. Sebab, trofi kebanggaan yang sangat bersejarah itu rusak. Sudah 8 tahun tak dirasakan Madrid, begitu diraih, justru terjatuh dan patah.

Vittorio Arrigoni: Dante’s Hell is Alive and Well in Gaza

ps. Olmert is Pinocchio,
h 2.10am in Gaza city, apaches are bombing with phospore….

By Vittorio Arrigoni
16 January 2009

Israeli forces fired at the U.N. school in Gaza, where civilians took shelter

Dante Alighieri could never have imagined circles as hellish as the wards of the damned in Jabalia’s hospitals. The laws of divine justice are turned on their head around here: the more innocent the victim, the less likely that they’ll be spared martyrdom through bombing. At Kamal Adwan and Al Auda hospitals, the ceramic tiles in the first aid units are always shiny. The cleaners are permanently busy wiping away the blood dripping copiously from the stretchers constantly carrying in the massacred bodies. Iyad Mutawwaq was walking in the street when a bomb tore open a building not far from him. He and other passers-by rushed over to try and bring some aid when a second bomb was dropped on the same building. It killed a father of 9, two brothers and another passer-by who had rushed over to help. The same story could be told over ten, or one hundred times. The perfect terrorist technique is being immaculately carried out by the Israeli army. You drop a bomb, wait for the first-aiders, then drop another bomb on the wounded and the first-aiders.

In Iyad’s eyes, those were American bombs, but they also carry the stamp of Mubarak, the Egyptian dictator who rivals Olmert here in Gaza when it comes to provoking hatred. Behind Iyad’s bed, an elderly man with both his arms in plasters is lying staring at the ceiling, and I’m told he’s lost everything: his family and his home. He stares at the cracks in the falling plaster, as if seeking an answer to the sheer destruction of his existence.

A controlled explosion by the Israeli army demolishes a Palestinian home in the Gaza Strip on 16 January 2009 on the 21st day of the war, as Israeli tanks and vehicles stand by, deployed in positions overlooking a neighborhood of Gaza where many of the buildings have suffered extreme damage.

Khaled worked in Israel for 25 years, prior to the first Intifada. In recognition, Tel Aviv hasn’t even granted him a pension, only a series of missiles from land and air onto his house. He suffers from shrapnel wounds all over his body. I ask him where he plans to go after he’s been discharged from hospital. He says he’ll join his family, out in the streets. Not unlike Khaled’s, many families don’t know where to find shelter. The most fortunate were offered hospitality by relatives and acquaintances, but can you really say that one hundred people crammed into two apartments counting three rooms each is really a life? Two bombs were dropped onto Ahmed Jaber’s home and though his family fled, for some of them it was too late. A third explosion buried 7 of his relatives under the rubble, including two children aged 8 and 9 – his neighbour’s children. He says: “They made us leap back in time, back to 1948. This is their punishment for our attachment to our country. They can tear my arms and legs off from my body, but they won’t make me leave my land.” A doctor takes me aside and tells me that Ahmed’s 7-year-old daughter, or what was left of her, was just brought in inside a tiny cardboard box. They don’t have the heart to tell him and make his already precarious health condition any worse. In the evening they took the phone away from Iyad as well, to prevent him from receiving any more bad news. A tank had hit his sister’s house full in the middle, beheading her in the process.

In the end, our Free Gaza Movement boat never got to the port in Gaza. About 100 miles from their designated destination, in international waters, they were intercepted by 4 Israeli war ships poised to open fire and kill its cargo of doctors, nurses and human rights activists. No one must dare to obstruct the massacre of civilians now in full swing for the last 3 weeks.

East of Jabalia, in front of the border, eyewitnesses speak of numerous decaying bodies in the streets. Their rotting meat is being eaten by the dogs. There are also hundreds of people unable to go anywhere, many of whom are injured. The ambulances simply cannot get anywhere near, with the trigger-happy snipers all over the place. Palestinians are sick of languishing in the midst of this general indifference, and many even accuse the international Red Cross and the UN of not doing enough, including not fulfilling their duties, nor risking their lives to save hundreds. We ISMers will thus equip ourselves with some stretchers and proceed on foot to the areas where humanity has surpassed all boundaries, eclipsing itself in the process.

The heavy-bottomed settlers sitting in the pristine lounges of armchair politics harp on about military strategies against Hamas, while we’re being literally massacred out here. They bomb hospitals, and yet there are some who still champion Israel’s right to self-defense. In any self-styled civilised country, self-defense is proportionate to the attack.

In these 20 days we’ve counted 1,075 dead Palestinians, 85% of whom were civilians, and over 5,000 injured, of whom half were under 18 years old. 303 children were atrociously massacred. It’s equivalent to saying that for Israel, butchering at least 250 Palestinians is a justified blood-bath in avenging each dead civilian on its own side. How can this lop-sided reaction not take one back to some of modern European history’s darkest pages?

Let’s get straight to the point: are we seriously talking about self-defense? For journalists like Marco Travaglio, Piero Ostellino, Pierluigi Battista and Angelo Panebianco, who harp on with the refrain of Hamas having full responsibility for this genocide as well as for breaking the truce between Israel and Palestine, I would like to remind them of the United Nation’s position on the matter. Professor Richard Falk, special rapporteur for human rights with the United Nations, has clearly expressed his views: it was in fact Israel that broken the truce in November, by blatantly exterminating 17 Palestinians. In the same month zero Israeli victims had been recorded, zero in October and likewise in the previous month, as well as the one prior to it. We were also recently reminded of this by Nobel prize winner and ex US President Jimmy Carter. It really is a crying shame that a journalist like Travaglio, who’s earned our admiration as a proud upholder of freedom of the press, is now sporting an IDF helmet and entertaining the masses on TV while amusing himself with the pastime most in vogue at the moment – infant-shooting in Gaza.

An Israeli army officer (L) grabs a video camera from Reuters cameraman Yusri al-Jamal as he prevents him from covering news events in the West Bank city of Hebron.

As I tap on my keyboard in the Ramattan press agency office, all the Palestinian reporters around me are wearing bullet-proof vests and helmets. They haven’t come straight from riding in a tank – they’re simply sitting in front of their computers. Two floors above, the Reuters offices were recently struck by a rocket, which seriously injured two. Almost all the floors in the building are empty at the moment, and only the most heroic of journalists are still around. The story of this hell must somehow continue to be told. And yet earlier this week, the Israeli army had assured Reuters it wouldn’t need to evacuate, as staying in their offices would be safe. This morning many casualties were also caused by the bombing of the United Nations building, built among others with money from the Italian government. Berlusconi, where are you?

John Ging, chief of the UNRWA, UN agency for Palestinian refugees and eye witness, clearly spoke of white phosphorous bombs. In the Tal el Hawa neighbourhood in Gaza city, a whole wing of Al Quds hospital is presently in flames, and Leila, an ISM colleague is also trapped inside it along with forty doctors and nurses, and one hundred patients. She describes these last dramatic hours to us via phone. A tank stands in front of the hospital. There are snipers everywhere, ready to shoot at anything that moves. All around is destruction. At night, from their windows, they could observe a building going on fire after having been struck by a bomb. They heard the cries of whole families with children, imploring help. They were impotent to help as they watched the bodies devoured by the flames, running into the street and then be reduced to ashes. Hell has switched places and come to the centre of Gaza, and we are the damned designated by an inhuman hatred.

Stay human

Vittorio Arrigoni

(Translated from Italian by Daniela Filippin)

In Gaza, Hippocrates is Dead

In Gaza, a firing squad put Hippocrates up against a wall, aimed and fired.  The absurd declarations of an  Israeli secret services' spokesman, according to which the army was given the green light in firing at ambulances because they allegedly carried terrorists, is an illustration of the value that Israel assigns to human life these days - the lives of their enemies, that is.  It's worth revisiting what's stated in the Hippocratic Oath, which every doctor swears upon before starting to practice the profession. 

The following passages are especially worthy of note: "I solemnly pledge myself to consecrate my life to the service of humanity.  I will practice my profession with conscience and dignity.  The health and life of my patient will be my first consideration.  I will cure all patients with the same diligence and commitment.  I will not permit considerations of religion, nationality, race, party politics, or social standing to intervene between my duty and my patient."

Seven doctors and voluntary nurses have been killed from the start of the bombing campaign, and about ten ambulances were shot at by the Israeli artillery.  The survivors are shaking with fear, but refuse to take a step back.  The crimson flashes of the ambulances are the only bursts of light in the dark streets of Gaza, bar the flashes that precede an explosion.  Regarding these crimes, the last report comes from Pierre Wettach, chief of the Red Cross in Gaza.  His ambulances had access to the spot of a massacre, in Zaiton, East of Gaza City, only 24 hours after the Israeli attack. 

The rescue-workers state they found themselves faced by a blood-curdling scenario.  "In one of the houses four small children were found near the body of their dead mother.  They were too weak to stand on their feet.  We also found an adult survivor, and he too was also too weak to stand up.  About 12 corpses were found lying on the mattresses."  The witnesses to this umpteenth massacre describe how the Israeli soldiers, after getting into the neighbourhood, gathered the numerous members of the Al Samouni family in one building and then proceeded to repeatedly bomb it.  My ISM partners and I have been driving around in the Half Red Moon ambulances for days, suffering many attacks and losing a dear friend, Arafa, struck by a howitzer shot from a cannon.  A further three paramedics, all friends, are presently inpatients at the hospitals they worked in until a few days ago.  Our duty on the ambulances is to pick up the injured, not carry guerrilla fighters.  When we find a man lying in the street in a pool of his own blood, we don't have the time to check his papers or ask him whether he roots for Hamas or Fatah.  Most seriously injured can't talk, much like the dead.  A few days ago, while picking up a badly wounded patient, another man with light injuries tried to hop onto the ambulance.  We pushed him out, just to make it clear to whoever's watching from up above that we don't serve as a taxi to usher members of the resistance around.  We only take on the most fatally wounded - of which there's always a plentiful supply, thanks to Israel. 

Last night at Al Qudas hospital in Gaza City, 17-year-old Miriam was carried in, with full-blown labour pains.  Her father and sister-in-law, both dead, had passed through the hospital in the morning, both victims of indiscriminate bombing.  Miriam gave birth to a gorgeous baby during the night, not aware of the fact that while she lay in the delivery room, her young husband had arrived in the morgue one floor below her.

In the end, even the United Nations realised that here in Gaza, we're all in the same boat, all moving targets for the snipers.  The death toll is now at 789 dead, 3,300 wounded (410 in critical conditions), 230 children killed and countless missing.  The death toll on the Israeli side has thankfully stopped at 4.  John Ging, chief of UNRWA (UN agency for the rights of Palestinian Refugees) has stated that the UN announced they shall suspend their humanitarian activities in the Gaza Strip.  I bumped into Ging in the Ramattan press office and saw him shake his finger with disdain at Israel before the cameras.  The UN stopped its work in Gaza after two of its operators were killed yesterday, ironically during the three-hour truce that Israel had announced and as usual, had failed to comply with.  "The civilians in Gaza have three hours a day at their disposal in which to survive, the Israeli soldiers have the remaining 21 in which to try and exterminate them," I heard Ging state two steps away from me. 

Yasmine, the wife of one of the many journalists waiting in line at the Erez pass, wrote to me from Jerusalem.  Israel won't grant these journalists a pass to let them in and film or describe the immense unnatural catastrophe that has befallen us in the last thirteen days.  These were her words: "The day before yesterday I went to have a look at Gaza from the outside.  The world's journalists are all huddled on a small sandy hill a few km from the border.  Innumerable cameras are pointed towards us.  Planes circle us overhead - you can hear them but you can't see them.  They seem like illusions, like something in your head until you see the black smoke rising from the horizon, in Gaza.  The hill has also become a tourist site for the Israelis in the area.  With their large binoculars and cameras, they come and watch the bombings live."

While I write this piece of correspondence in a mad rush, a bomb is dropped onto the building next to the one I'm in now.  The windowpanes shake, my ears ache, I look out the window and see that the building gathering the major Arabic media agencies has been struck.  It's one of Gaza City's tallest buildings, the Al Jaawhara building.  A camera crew is permanently stationed on the roof, I can now see them all bending around on the ground, waving their arms and asking for help as they're covered by a black cloud of smoke. 

Paramedics and journalists, the most heroic occupations in this corner of the world.  At the Al Shifa hospital yesterday I paid Tamim a visit - he's a journalist who survived an air raid.  He explained how he thinks that Israel is adopting the same identical terrorist techniques as Al-Qaeda, bombing a building, waiting for the journalists and ambulances to arrive and then dropping another bomb to finish the latter two off as well.  In his view that's why there've been so many casualties among the journalists and paramedics.  As he said this, the nurses around his bed all nodded in agreement.  Tamim smilingly showed me his two stubs for legs.  He was happy he was still around to tell the story, while his colleague, Mohammed, had died with a camera in his hand when the second explosion had proved fatal.  In the meantime I asked about the bomb that was just dropped on the building next door, where two journalists, both Palestinian, one from Libyan TV and the other from Dubai TV, were injured.  This is a harsh new reminder that this massacre must in no way be described or recorded.  All that's left for me to hope is that among the Israeli military summit no one reads Il Manifesto, or habitually visits my blog.

Stay human

Vittorio Arrigoni

#Tulisan ini didedikasikan untuk Vittorio Arrigoni yang dibunuh ekstrimis Palestina yang tidak senang dengan Hamas, karena sikap Hamas yang melindungi aktivis luar negeri untuk kemanuasiaan Palestina...

Al Naakba 2009

They parade in fear, their eyes looking upwards, surrendering to the sky showering terror and death upon  them, fearing the earth that keeps shaking under every step they take, opening craters where there were houses, schools, universities, markets, hospitals, and burying their lives within them forever.  I've seen caravans of desperate Palestinians evacuate Jabalia, Beit Hanoun and all the refugee camps in Gaza, crowding the United Nations' schools like earthquake survivors, like victims of a tsunami which is eating into the Gaza Strip day by day, along with its civilian population, without pity or compliance with human rights and the Geneva Conventions.  Most of all, without a single Western government stirring a finger to stop this massacre, or sending medical staff out here, or stopping the genocide that Israel is smearing its hands with in these hours.

The indiscriminate attacks against the hospitals and medical staff continue.  Yesterday, after having left the Al Auda hospital in Jabalia, I received a call from Alberto, a Spanish colleague at the ISM - a bomb had been dropped there and Abu Mohammed, a nurse, had been seriously injured to his head.  Just moments before, in front of a caf�, I'd been listening to his stories of the heroic deeds of Communist Abu Mohammed's heroes, the leaders of the Popular Front: George Habbash, Abu Ali Mustafa, Ahmad Al Sadat.  His eyes lit up when he heard that the first notions of what Palestine and its immense tragedy were, had been passed onto me by my parents, both Communists through and through.  By my mother, a "raissa", or Mayor of a town in Northern Italy.  He asked me who had been the truly revolutionary leaders of the Italian left from the past, and I said Antonio Gramsci.  For those of today I took my time, telling him I'd have replied to that question today.  But Abu Mohammed now lies in a coma, in the same hospital where he works.  He spared himself my disappointing reply.

Towards midnight I received another call, from Eva this time - the building she was in was under attack.  I know that building well, in the centre of Gaza City.  I've spent a night there with some Palestinian photojournalist friends of mine.  They try to capture through images and words something of the unnatural catastrophe we're enduring in the last ten days.  Reuters, Fox News, Russia Today and many, many other local or foreign agencies were under fire by seven rockets shot by an Israeli helicopter.  They managed to evacuate everyone on time before anyone was seriously injured - all those cameramen, photographers, reporters - all Palestinian, considering Israel won't allow any international journalists to set foot in Gaza.  There are no "strategic" targets around that building, nor a resistance fighting off the deadly armoured Israeli vehicles, which can be found a way away towards the North.  Clearly, someone in Tel Aviv cannot bear the images of the massacres of civilians clashing with the ones that the Israeli officers' briefings provide while offering the mercenary journalists their aperitif.  Through these press conferences they're declaring to the world that the bombs' targets are only the Hamas terrorists, not those atrociously mutilated children we pull out of the rubble every day.

At Zetun, about ten kilometres from Jabalia, a bombed building crumbled over a family, leaving about ten victims.  The ambulances had to wait several hours before they could reach the spot, as the military persist in shooting at us.  They shoot at ambulances and bomb hospitals.  A few days ago, while I was on the air with a well-known Milanese radio station, an Israeli "pacifist" clearly spelt out to me that this was a war where both sides used all the weapons at their disposal.  I thus invite Israel to drop one of its many atomic bombs upon us, those they keep secretly stashed away, defying all treaties against nuclear proliferation.  Why not just drop that decisive bomb of theirs and put an end to the inhuman agony of thousands of bodies, lying in tatters in the overcrowded hospital wards I visited?

I took some black and white photos yesterday, the caravans of mule-drawn carts, overloaded beyond belief with children waving white drapes pointing skywards, their faces pale and terrified.  Looking through those snaps of fleeing refugees today, I felt shivers down my spine.  If they could only be superimposed with those witnessing the Nakba of 1948, the Palestinian catastrophe, they would be a perfect mirror image of them.  The cowardly passiveness of self-styled democratic states and governments are responsible for a new catastrophe in full swing right now, a new Nakba, a brand new ethnic cleansing befalling the Palestinian population.

Until a few moments ago we counted 650 dead, 153 murdered children, in addition to 3,000 injured, and innumerable missing.  The number of civilian deaths in Israel has thankfully stopped at 4.  But after this afternoon the death toll on the Palestinian side requires an urgent recount since the Israeli Army has started attacking the United Nations schools.  The very same that had been offering shelter to the thousands evacuated under threat of an imminent attack.  They chased them off the refugee camps, the villages, only to collect them all in one place, an easier target.  Three schools were attacked today, the last being at Al Fakhura, in Jabalia, which was hit full on its head.  Over 80 dead.  In a heartbeat, men, women, elderly people and children were wiped away, believing themselves to be safe within those blue-tinted walls adorned with a UN logo.  The other 20 UN schools are now shaking in fear.  There's no way out anywhere in the Gaza Strip.  This isn't Lebanon, where the civilians in the Southern villages targeted by the Israeli bombs could flee to the North, or to Syria or Jordan.  From one enormous open-air prison, the Gaza Strip has become a deadly trap.  We look at one another in bewilderment and ask ourselves whether the UN Security Council will finally unanimously condemn these attacks after their own schools have been targeted.  Someone out there has really decided to turn this place into a desert, and then call it peace. 

A long night on the ambulances awaits us now, even after dawn has become an illusion around here.  Antenna towers for our mobile phones all along the Strip have been destroyed and we've stopped relying on them.  I hope I may one day be able to see all the friends I can no longer contact, but I'm under no illusions.  Everyone bar none in Gaza is a walking target. 

The Italian Consulate has just contacted me, saying that tomorrow they shall evacuate a fellow Italian, an elderly nun who'd lived near the Catholic church in Gaza for the last twenty years, and had by now been adopted by the Palestinians in the Strip.  The consul gently urged me to seize this last opportunity and escape this hell with the nun.  I thanked him for the offer, but I'm not moving from here - I just can't.  For the sake of the losses we endured, before being Italian, Spanish, British or Australian, right now we are all Palestinian.  If only we could do that for just one minute a day, the way we were all Jewish during the Holocaust, I think we would have been spared this entire massacre.

Stay human

Vittorio Arrigoni

#Tulisan ini didedikasikan untuk Vittorio Arrigoni yang dibunuh ekstrimis Palestina yang tidak senang dengan Hamas, karena sikap Hamas yang melindungi aktivis luar negeri untuk kemanuasiaan Palestina...

SEGERA HADIR !!!

LIPUTAN KHUSUS PALESTINA
DAN TIMUR TENGAH !!!

Segera Hadir Rubrik Liputan khusus Palestina dan Timur Tengah dalam 3 Bahasa, Indonesia, Arab dan Inggris Cekidot gan,,,

VIVAPALESTINE !!!

Mau Tahu Jumlah Gaji Presiden Pertama Indonesia?

Ini Foto Presiden dan Wakil Presidennya..

Nih,, gaji pertama Presiden dan Wakil Presiden kita..

Perdalam Samudera Keikhlasanmu

Oleh : Cahyadi Takariawan

...

Ini termasuk pesan yang sangat ingin aku sampaikan: perdalam samudera keikhlasanmu. Realitas lapangan dakwah mengajarkan hal penting kepada kita, bahwa daya tahan di dalam mengarungi perjuangan sangat ditentukan oleh sebesar apa penjagaan keikhlasan dalam diri kita. Sangat banyak kejadian dan kondisi jalan dakwah yang bisa mengganggu keikhlasan. Sesiapapun akan diuji keikhlasannya di jalan ini: yang “berhasil” menjadi pejabat publik, yang “tidak berhasil” menjadi pejabat publik, yang “tidak pernah” menjadi pejabat publik, yang “selalu” menjadi pejabat publik…..

Semua dari kita diuji. Yang menjadi caleg, yang menjadi aleg, yang menjadi aktivis mahasiswa, yang menjadi aktivis sosial, yang menjadi ibu rumah tangga, yang menjadi murabbi, yang menjadi pengurus partai, yang menjadi petani….. Semuanya, ya semuanya selalu dihadapkan kepada ujian yang kadang bisa mengganggu keikhlasan.

Perasaan Berjasa: Ini Hasil Kerja Saya!

Ketika dakwah menunjukkan hasil-hasil dan prestasi yang menggembirakan, wajar jika muncul perasaan kebanggaan pada pelakunya. Ini perasaan yang sangat manusiawi. Namun perasaan ini jangan dibiarkan berkembang menjadi klaim atas usaha pribadi dan meremehkan kerja orang lain. Karena dalam setiap keberhasilan dakwah, pasti akan dijumpai peran semua pihak dalam mencapai keberhasilan tersebut, sekecil atau sebesar apapun.

“Kalian tahu, siapa yang telah melakukan perubahan spektakuler, sehingga tercipta hasil yang sangat menakjubkan ini? Tidak ada lain yang bisa melakukannya, kecuali saya. Semua saya kerjakan sendiri”, pernyataan ini sangat mungkin benar sesuai realitas yang ada. Namun ungkapan ini bisa menjadi awal dari munculnya kesombongan, apabila merasa bahwa kehebatan dirinya tidak ada yang menandingi, dan meremehkan peran orang lain.

“Payah benar kader di sini. Tidak ada yang mau bekerja. Kalau saja saya tidak bergerak, Pemilu kemarin hasilnya tidak akan sebagus ini”.

“Kemenangan Pilkada di daerah ini adalah hasil kerja keras dan jerih payah saya. Pengorbanan yang saya berikan telah membuahkan hasil berupa kemenangan gemilang. Jika saya tidak terlibat, saya tidak bisa bayangkan apa yang akan terjadi”.

“Organisasi dakwah ini menjadi besar dan berkembang pesat, karena usaha yang saya lakukan. Kader-kader lain tidak memiliki peran dan keterlibatan, sehingga terpaksa saya bekerja sendiri. Alhamdulillah hasilnya signifikan”.

Masyaallah. Benarkah kita bisa bekerja sendiri? Dalam sistem amal jama’i yang dibangun organisasi dakwah, seluruh bagian akan saling berkait, berhubungan dan mempengaruhi. Kita tidak bisa melepaskan diri dari pengaruh bagian lain yang ada dalam mesin amal jama’i ini. Ibarat mesin mobil, semua komponen saling berpengaruh dan berhubungan. Laju mobil merupakan hasil kerja simultan seluruh bagian.

Bisa jadi memang ada bagian atau komponen dalam organisasi dakwah yang senyatanya menjadi beban bagi yang lainnya. Namun itu tidak memberikan makna bahwa semua orang menjadi beban, dan hanya seseorang atau segelintir orang saja yang punya peran. Bisa jadi memang ada kader yang pasif dan tidak banyak kontribusi, namun itu bukan berarti semua kader memiliki kondisi kelemahan serupa. Seakan-akan kontribusi hanya menjadi milik seseorang atau segelintir orang yang sangat hebat dalam organisasi dakwah.

Lalu dimana letak ikhlas itu? Kalau kita merasa memiliki banyak peran, banyak kontribusi, banyak keberhasilan, banyak capaian, kemudian mengecilkan bahkan meniadakan peran yang lain, dimana ikhlas itu?

Perasaan Melempar: Siapa Yang Salah?

Ketika dakwah mencapai kemenangan tidak layak ketika ada pihak yang merasa berjasa sendirian. Sebagaimana pada saat dakwah tidak berhasil mencapai target kemenangan, sangat tidak etis jika muncul suasana saling menyalahkan. Masing-masing pihak merasa tidak bertanggung jawab dan melempar kesalahan kepada pihak lainnya.

”Kita kalah dalam Pemilu gara-gara departemen Fulan yang tidak bekerja. Mereka bersantai-santai saat kita bekerja keras, akhirnya mengacaukan semua target”.

”Target tidak berhasil kita capai karena kelemahan bidang Anu. Pengurus bidang Anu tidak becus mengurus programnya sehingga membuat semua bagian ikut berantakan. Kita sudah bekerja habis-habisan, akhirnya tidak ada gunanya”.

”Kita gagal mencapai target karena kader tidak bersemangat dan tidak mau berkorban. Program sudah bagus, sarana pendukung sudah disiapkan, namun kadernya tidak mau bekerja, maka kita kalah”.

”Kekalahan kita disebabkan tidak tegasnya pimpinan. Para kader sudah sangat bersemangat dan siap bekerja, namun pimpinan tidak memiliki ketegasan sikap, akhirnya semua menjadi kacau”.

Betapa mudah melempar kesalahan. Ini salah siapa? Bukan salah saya, ini salah Fulan, ini salah kader, ini salah pengurus, ini kesalahan Ketua, ini kesalahan bendahara, ini kesalahan sekretaris, ini salah kaderisasi, ini salahnya si Kodok… Bukan, bukan salah saya…. Saya sih tidak punya salah….

Dimana letak keikhlasan kita?


*)sumber: http://cahyadi-takariawan.web.id/?p=211