random post 4.

i've been uninspired lately. i don't know. i have no idea what to write. i have no idea what i should be thinking of. i think a whole lot of problems though, these and that. i'm not gonna tell it here though; tis a little too personal. i need to get my brain and imagination working properly again.

i talked to a stranger the other day when i was at the clinic waiting for the doctor. he first talked to me in chinese and then i said, "i couldn't understand you sir," with a smile on my face.

"why do you need two handphones?" he asked. i looked down at my phones and i turned to him to answer but there's not really a good of an explanation to describe why i have two phones. i just said that i have them to keep in touch with my friends. then he smiled and laughed and suddenly i smiled too. he asked me what telco provider i was using so i answered accordingly. our conversations snowballed from there.

mostly we talked about politics. i don't know much about politics so i listened to him talk more than i gave him my opinions. he asked me questions like, "what do you think.." or "how do you feel..." those questions really were complicated to answer since i don't really have that much of an interest in politics. 

but i liked talking to him. he was kind and nice. though he's a chinese, he didn't take any sides in politics, he said. i said, "me too."

"you're taking TESL eh? are you going to become a teacher?"

"i have no idea yet uncle. what i really want to do is to write."

"maybe that can become a side-income. you know, you write articles for newspapers and magazines."

"yeah uncle. i'm writing a story now..."

we talked some more, mostly about politics. then the doctor called me. i said him my good-byes and left him smiling at me, and i smiled back. that marked the end of a random conversation with the chinese uncle. 

i wonder why did God meet me with him? 

p.s: we meet people, some stay, some go. it's life.

tamat sudah cerita?

Angan-angan tiada salah nya

Impian ada juga yang menjadi nyata

Mimpi juga adakala nya menjadi realiti

Tetapi,

Sudah-sudah lah engkau berceritera

Mengenai fantasi yang tiada

Menjadi-jadi benar

Tiada ikhlas dan tulus nya wujud

Di dalam prosa-prosa yang terkeluar

Daripada mulut engkau. Wahai si pencerita

Henti kan! omongan engkau

Cukup lah disini sahaja berhenti nya

Kata-kata dongeng

Yang menyakitkan hati membingitkan telinga

Jalan sudah ditunjuk

Disuluh dengan lampu yang terang, menyala

Jadi si pencerita,

Keluar kan langkah mu

Ambil lah jalan itu

Tiada guna nya engkau mahu lari

Ke sana ke mari

Berpusing-pusing akhirnya menyusah kan diri

Kerana semua nya sudah terbongkar

Kebenaran nya sudah tiba

Tiada lagi ruang untuk tipu daya

“Your time is up,” wahai si ‘propa’.           

p.s:game over?

the old man.

i am currently having a 4 month break, semester break, and currently working as a part-timer at a place i used to work at. anyways, to keep the story short, i started working yesterday. so i entered the kitchen feeling all lethargic and tired and everyone greeted me and were shocked to see me getting back to work. nothing much changed with the place- still hot and oily here and there but hey, it's work and it pays me money. but there was something else that caught my eyes. i saw an old man, a little younger from my uncle (who's now 66 by the way) working as one of the washers in the kitchen. immediately my heart sank. what kinda person would allow a man of that age to do manual labor?

did you know that his work involves him doing the dishes as well as washing all the pots and pans used by the chefs as well as mopping the floors? i know it doesn't seem like a heavy job but it actually it is. imagine having to wash, arrange and wipe heavy dishes and pots and pans at the age of 55 and above instead of resting at home and enjoying life?

i just had the chance to talk to him today. actually, he initiated the conversation first.

"kamu kampung mana nak?" the old man asked, his back a little bend and in his eyes were little twinkles. his skin were a little dark and course and he smiled at me.

"saya tinggal dekat matang. taman matang jaya. pak cik?" i asked him. and sure enough i got a reply from the old man.

"saya tinggal dekat kampung baru semariang." the old man replied.

that's quite a distance from here, i thought to myself.

"so, macam mana pak cik datang kerja?" i asked, concerned.

"naik bus, pastu naik van. sampailah." the old man said with a smile.

immediately my heart sank again. he was mopping the floor while we were talking. then we walked over to the sink while i was doing my work and he was cleaning something else. we talked some more. all the time we were talking, that smile never faded from his face, that carefree-i-have-no-problems kinda smile. i think for me that smile was a sad smile too; it was as if he was protecting a huge secret from me. i don't believe that he's doing this part-time job of his for 3 months now because "he has nothing better to do at home". i guess it's for some other reason(s)

so i found out from him that he was a retired prison guard who has no children and living with his sister. why he was working? because he was bored at home so now he's at the hotel's main kitchen doing the dishes. 

i guess what i'm trying to say here is, i don't know really. i pity the old man. i think should have not been there in the first place, working, doing manual labor. he should be at home, resting, enjoying his retiree years. i don't think he should be there. but maybe he needs the money. i know at least he's not begging for money at least but it still aches me to see such an old man doing labor. really. really. i guess me and him, what we both have in common is i guess he needs the money and i do too. that's why both of us are there.

some of us are just so fortunate, we have no idea.

p.s: life's not easy to begin with but everything happens for a reason.

the life.

The moment he opened his eyes was the moment he should be thankful that he was given another day to live on this forsaken planet.  He had never done it: being thankful. For 25 years he struggled with his life; going here and there, doing this and that, trying to find money to get by another hour, another day, another month, another year. Get up, clean, off to work, lunch, work, dinner, work. Home.

That was his routine.

He never got tired of it. He realized that was what he needed to do to get by. He felt frustrated with how his life had turned out but if it was fated, what can he do about it. People say, well, if you fight hard enough, maybe your luck and fate will change. But then he thought:

Well I’ve fought hard enough, I mean, I did try to change the way I live. Did I try hard enough? Yes. I did. But here I am, still stuck doing the same shit over and over again so I can get by every, single, day. What if I am the unlucky few that God had chosen to lead a stagnant, unimportant and uneventful life? What if that IS my fate all along? Then, if it is so, should I fight to change it? If it is meant to be, then, it is meant to be right? FATE. Whoever created that word is a genius. A four letter word that can mean so much. Like love, or hate, or sick or life. Four-letter words to describe the deepest feelings and emotions and thoughts. No wonder sometimes we run out of things to say.

What am I babbling here? What I am trying to say is, I should be thankful. I am living and I have lived. But to ask for more, is it wrong? Is it too much to ask, to see the world? Too much to ask too, to fall in love? Much to ask, to feel, happy? Truly, genuinely, happy. Why can other people experience that and not me? To be able to do things they love and get away with it. Why can't i be the same? Life can be so, unfair? Can I say that? Fair. that is another big four-letter word. 

Those were his thoughts.

He knew life was going to be hard. He never expected it to be THIS hard. He should be thankful though. He never starved, he was not terminally ill, and he lived in a peaceful country. What more could he ask for? The necessities were there, to not be taken for granted. He had enough food, a stable income (though just enough for survival. Sometimes though, it is not enough to survive.), a shelter, clothes.

One more thing: He had family and friends who loved him.

He had the strongest pillar of support anyone could ever ask for. He looked back at his life, all those hardships he went through to help provide for his family, the drama and fun he had with his friends; he had all of those. He was happy. There were lots of moments with them when he felt truly happy. He felt carefree.

He never traveled the world, or had a car, or had fancy gadgets, or wear expensive clothes or ate expensive food. So when he breathed his last breath on that fateful Sunday morning, he knew his life was not the dream life he had hoped and imagined when he was younger. But my God, did he live. 

My God, did he live.

p.s: be thankful, and happy. you are fortunate, too.

perasaan itu.

apa yang engkau

mahu

sebenar nya, sebetul nya?

aku nampak

riak wajah

senyuman nipis

kerlipan mata tanpa sinar

engkau itu

tapi

aku dapat rasa kan

hati engkau,

tidak merasai emosi yang sama.

ada kah

hati engkau

sedang bermuram durja?

jika ia,

mengapa?

oh.

perasaan itu,

kau 

bicara?

luah kan?

pendam?

dendam?

tapi...

bukan kah sudah di kurnia kan

kepada engkau wahai

jejaka

beberapa perkara yang 

tiada pada orang lain

ada pada 

engkau?

bukan kah 

engkau 

sudah di hadiah kan

dengan ke boleh an

yang kosong pada 

orang lain?

yang tiada ada pada mereka lain am nya

pada engkau

dalam engkau

ada perkara tersebut

tolong sedari

kita manusia

sentiasa mencari apa yang 

tidak hadir 

dalam diri

pada insan lain

dan mereka pun

sama

mencari dalam kita

untuk entiti yang tiada

dikesan

dalam diri mereka

apa kata,

kita cari, 

dalam diri 

masing-masing

apa yang 

sudah ada

sudah wujud

sudah terasa

jadi perasaan itu

tidak akan menghantui 

memakan diri

tiada baik nya 

berperasaan

berfikiran

berhati 

begitu.

p.s: keep calm and be patient. rezeki ada di mana-mana.

4.

semester 4 ended with a slight whimper and less boisterous noises, very little good-byes were exchanged despite the fact that we are going to be separated from each other for 4 months. semester 4, 4 months of break, 4 months since you left me. humph. such significance. 

semester 4 started on a bad note for me. my relationship ended. so that's that. however, the journey towards the end of semester 4 was the hardest. there were so many things going on at the same time. drama, creative project, tests, assignments not to mention the drama, internal and external conflicts. semester 4 had definitely been one hell of a ride. it was almost scary. actually, it was already scary. 

semester 4 had been a semester of emotional turmoil and struggle. i guess my studies were affected too, kinda. 

when i got on the plane and as it left the tarmac and flew into the crystal, clear and bright blue sky, i thought of all the things that had happened, the things that took place within me, the thoughts and emotions i had experienced. semester 4 had definitely been a semester of growing up and learning. throughout my degree years, never in my life had i experienced such a phase or process of maturing and education. 

semester 4 had been one of the most fragile moments of my life. really, it was. i felt like the whole time, i was skating on thin ice, walking on a tightrope, flying in a stormy weather; that kinda feeling. even after things were done, the relief or satisfaction weren't really genuine, wasn't 100%. 

there were joyful moments, of course they were. luckily there were those moments, or else i guess i'd be breaking down and go mental. 

this 4 months break, as i looked out the window as the plane was flying, i thought of all those faces whom i care about. i closed my eyes and held back my tears. i'm going to miss them. 4 months is definitely a long time. in 4 months, anything can happen. everything can change. 

i'm glad and cursing at the same time that i'm so far away from everybody. the space is good, the distance, not so.

p.s: luckily, there is you. you've been holding my hands through and through. thank you. :')

4 line-rs.

i need time to, forget, completely,

i need time to, love, unconditionally,

i need time, to be yours, truly,

i need you, honestly.

p.s: walking forward with you.

tidak mampu, lagi.

mereka sangat pandai

mengukir kata-kata puitis

sungguh menyentuh hati

kadang kala

sehinggakan terburai air mata

isi hati

segala rasa 

dan emosi juga.

aku pula tidak mampu

untuk menjadi si pandai

yang mampu menyusun

kata-kata

sehingga berbelit-belit

mereka menjadi prosa

penyair, penyajak

seiring mereka-mereka yang 

hebat, mantap segala.

tidak.

aku tidak mampu.

tidak berbakat

lagi.

aku hanya sekadar penulis

separa minda, sepenuh jiwa

aku muda

masih mencari identiti

tidak seperti mereka 

yang sudah berpengalaman

ukiran kata-kata puitis

menjadi makan minum seharian.

tidak.

aku tidak mampu

lagi.

aku seorang amatur

mentah

muda

merasa garam, asam, manis [gula-gula]

pun belum cukup lagi

ini kan pula

diminta untuk mengusungkan kata-kata

menulis seloka, prosa dan seumpama

ya, tidak.

tidak mampu

lagi.

belum tiba masa lagi

untuk aku menjadi mereka

yang sepuitis angin bayu

sebiru langit cerah

seputih kepulan awan

sesejuk ais di kutub

sepanas api.

oh! aku tidak mampu

lagi.

menjadi artis yang puitis.

p.s: maaflah. i'm not good enough, yet.

who am i?

i'm not the same person i was 4-5 years ago. i have realized i have changed; for good and bad. i'm not the same person i was 5-6 years ago. my mind has changed. my heart too. sometimes, i don't even know who i am anymore. i wonder if the person i am now is original or a fake; a mixture of both? 

i don't know. sometimes i just don't feel like i'm me. it's like, i feel like, i'm someone else. in this body. and my personality's made out of layers and layers of what i have gained and seen and experienced from people. sometimes i feel lost. i don't know who i really am. it's like, sometimes, i wonder, if the person i am now is the real me, or is real even. 

sometimes, i lose purpose, and focus too. when i feel like that, i feel like, i'm a zombie. just walking, breathing. not really living. i'm just here. here. existing.  

i don't know why i'm writing this post but what i know is that i feel this way sometimes. sometimes i wonder what more do i need to make me, me. people say that during your teenage years is when you have identity crisis but i think that's just crap. people have identity crisis almost all the time all their life. i know i do. i'm still searching me. 

the real me.

if i'm still searching for the real me, then, the one who has been living all this while, typing this post, is not real? a fake? i don't know. maybe. i change. not constantly. but consistently i change. i know i am changing. i realize that. but it's hard to keep track you know of what i had been, what i am and what i will be. the things i lose along the process of change to become me now and the things i will lose to become the me of the future. scary thought isn't it?

it feels like changing your skin only it's invisible. it happens on the inside. at least that's what i feel. you know, changing. or sometimes changing myself feels like changing my clothes. everyday i wear different clothes except at night sometimes i wear the same clothes to bed. and sometimes, i'm like clothes because some clothes when they are new, i like to wear them and i'd just keep the old ones or sometimes i'd throw the old ones away. or i'd recycle items that are still nice given by people to me and wear them instead. that represents my personality i guess. 

something new, something old, something recycled. 

that pretty much sums me up for now. yeah. i'm not really original, not really new. i'm old because, well because i tend to be backwards sometimes or slow, and i'm a recycle because i'm always, or sometimes, or seldom, or whatever, is a follower of something. i'm rarely something new: trend setter. i don't intend to be one anyways. 

i change. i've changed. i'm changing. that's much i can accept. some people can't though. sometimes i can't accept them too. i've embraced some changes but not all of them, though i don't know which ones i have embraced and which ones i haven't. quite a mystery that one.

i'm a person. can i just say that? i'm a person. with feelings and emotions. fairly predictable, average. getting older every year. little specialties and abilities. i have my moments and i tend to lose those moments too. that's me. sometimes, i wonder though, what makes me, me? who am i to me?

p.s: maybe you can help me define me to me. who am i, to you? who?

a princess.

her eyes opened slowly as she felt the warmth of the sun slowly creeping into the bedroom. they lay on a white bed, its sheet white and crisp, the bed itself spacious and comfortable. never in a million years would she have thought that her life would turn out this way. she suddenly smiled as she remembered something in the past.

she was only 12 when she went around town with her family. the carnival was a yearly event and attracted people from many parts of the country. there was always something to look forward to at the carnival. clowns, games, food and gypsies. she especially loved the gypsies. not only were they beautiful, she thought, but they were magical too. there was this one exceptionally beautiful gypsy whose hair was as black as coal, eyes as blue as the sky and her lips as red as blood. her body was thin and small but very well-built nonetheless. every year, she'd make her presence known in the carnival. boys and men would come to her stall to admire her beauty and their spouses would get jealous and irritated because of that. she sold potions, that was all she could remember. 

that day, when she went to the carnival, she decided to go to the stall of the gypsy. as usual, boys and men were there, purchasing potions just to get the chance to interact with her. the little girl squeezed passed the men and boys and went up to the front of the stall. the gypsy noticed her. she noticed the gypsy. the gypsy wore a dress made of cotton and silk, with little flowers as patterns and on her ear she slid a little white rose. she smiled at the little girl.

"hello little girl."

"hello."

"came here to buy a potion, did you?" the gypsy asked, her voice as smooth as silk. at this moment, seeing that the gypsy was too busy interacting with the little girl, slowly the men and boys left the stall until there was only the two of them left. 

"no. i was thinking, if you could help me see my future?" the little girl asked, her voice was as close to a whisper. the little girl had heard stories of how gypsies can look into their magic ball made of solid glass and predict one's future. it was magic. pure magic. the little girl loved magic.

"now, why would i do that to a little girl?"

"i just want to know things."

"like what little girl?" the gypsy asked, her mouth curling into a smile.

"like, i don't know. things?" the little girl asked, her face full of curiosity and confusion.

the gypsy just smiled. she held her hand out and the little girl reached it and the gypsy led the little girl into her stall. inside the stall was a simple brown table with two chairs. under the stall was a basket, woven from bamboo. the little girl sat on a chair and as the gypsy was closing her stall, the little girl's heart was beating restlessly. she was scared. the gypsy took the basket out and from inside it, she extracted her magic ball. the little girl stared at the ball in awe and wonder. the gypsy set the magic ball on the table slowly and she sat across the girl. the stall was dark and then, as the gypsy chanted a few things and waved her hands above the magic ball, it glowed magnificently lights of blue and purple.

the girl got really scared.

"don't be scared my dear." the gypsy said and smiled to the girl. "now, tell me, what do you want to know?"

"i don't know." the little girl said, with hints of nervousness in her voice. 

"come along little girl. tell me?" the magic ball kept on glowing lights of blue and purple. the gypsy was still waving her hands but now they waved all over the magic ball. the gypsy woman kept smiling.

"i just..." the girl began. "i just want to know, what will change my life, tremendously?" 

the gypsy smiled. she chanted things that the little girl could not fathom. the glowing lights dimmed for a while and then a burst of white light escaped from the ball. the girl shielded her eyes from the white light with her palms. 

after a few moment, the little girl removed her hands away from her face and slowly, she opened her eyes. the gypsy sat across her with a smile on her face. a sweet smile. the magic ball was not glowing anymore. the gypsy stood up and proceeded to opening her stall once again. the little girl just stared at her in disbelief. 

"so?" the little girl asked.

the gypsy just continued opening her stall. light began streaming into the stall once again. the little girl waited, and waited.

"excuse me? what did it say?" the little girl asked again.

the gypsy stopped and turned to face the girl. she smiled again, that sweet smile. 

"little girl, come i'll whisper the things i saw to you."

slowly, the little girl got up from her chair and the gypsy lady bent down and whispered to the girl's ear what she had seen from the magic ball. the little girl gasped and kept quiet and listened to the words of the gypsy until the end.

"but promise me, if you talk about this to anyone else, your future, will be different." the gypsy said softly to the little girl. the little girl nodded and the gypsy sent her off. the little girl walked a few steps and stopped, then turned her head to see the gypsy. she was smiling and the little girl smiled, and waved back. the little girl then walked away.

that was the past. now it was the present. the little girl is now a grown woman, married and happy. she turned to face her husband. he was sleeping peacefully and yet he still looked handsome. she touched his head and then his arms. the man lifted his eyes slowly and smiled when he finally saw her, his icy blue eyes stared at her.

"good morning beautiful," he said. 

"good morning love," she said back with a huge grin on her face. he embraced her in his arms and she fell comfortably into his embrace. warm and protected, that was what she felt at the moment.

 

life felt like a fairytale at that moment too. she smiled again, this time with her eyes closed.

she was now married to a prince. that would make her a princess, just like what the gypsy whispered to her 15 years ago. every little girl's dreams. the difference was, hers came true.

p.s: royal wedding. congratulations kate and will.