Cerita Saya Mahu.

Banyak benda saya mahu buat sebelum saya jadi tua dan tidak berdaya.

Saya mahu belajar berenang. Saya sudah tak mahu terjun dalam kolam kanak-kanak bila tak ada orang nampak.

Saya mahu belajar telan ubat. Saya sudah jemu kunyah ubat pahit macam daun ketum.

Saya mahu belajar bahasa Perancis. Saya sudah tak tahan kena gelak sebab salah sebut Les Miserables. Eik. Awak pun salah sebut jugak?

Saya mahu pandai MATLAB. Saya sudah segan nak meniru hasil kerja Mohammad Shaffrey Wang yang semakin berbulu dengan perangai saya.

Saya mahu makan mee kolok Sarawak. Saya sudah bosan dengan megi kari campur telur yang awak kata masakan tradisi kaum awak.

Saya mahu pergi ke Mesir dan naik unta macam Encik Hamid. Saya sudah bertaubat tak mahu ambil gambar depan Sunway Pyramid.

Saya mahu beli seluar Emporio Armani warna hitam di Selfridges yang betul-betul ho-liao dengan saya. Saya sudah penat dapat seluar pinggang longgar dan kaki labuh.

Saya mahu bawak ibu saya ke Amsterdam untuk melihat bunga tulip di bulan April. Saya syahdu tengok dia memaki-hamun belalang yang menggigit daun orkidnya di belakang rumah.

Saya mahu macam-macam. Tapi kerja saya banyak macam haram.

Encik Hamid bergaya dengan unta jinak di Mesir

Cerita Tangkap-Muat-Sebab-Nak-Cepat

Two months since my last entry! Oh dear. I've violated one of the sacred Blogger Commandment:

"Thou shalt write. Jangan malas-malas'"

To make it sounds even worse, I actually FORGOT the fact that I have a blog. Yeah. So many things to settle leately that blogging has been reduced its level of priority in my daily schedule. plus I don't whine about small, silly and unimportant things like some people do. You know who they are.

So what's new? I noticed there's something new and shiny on my table which was not there last week.

It is actually my first Nottingham Games medal! Although it is just a bronze medal, it sure meant a lot more than that to me. Well, that's what you get for being on the losing side for the last few years. Winning something can actually makes you feel good (aside from offering seat in the bus to old folks and listened to their pouring praises for such kindness). I definitely hope next year I will bring back better medal haul from Nottingham Games.

All in all, besides MATLAB, everything is good for me. And I wish everything is all good for you too, honey.

Cerita Day(s) Without You: Part 2

I didn't quite know how, but I found myself standing in a room. There was no door. Just 4 solid brick walls, leaving me estranged from outside world. There was an old radio, covered in dust of forgotten time. I paced slowly towards it. Intrigued. Curious.

Like being worked by magic, beautiful music began to fill the atmosphere of the room. I took a step back. I shook my head in disbelief. I knew the song. It was our song.

***

-Do you love me, darling?
You nodded.

-I love you too.
You arched the corner of your red lips, giving birth to a smile that made my heart melt and freeze at the same time.

You rested your head on my shoulder as our feet gave way to the intoxicating melodies. I sniffed the sweet, citrus smell of your hair. It was such a perfect moment; you, me and the Cranberries. We swayed together through the night, paying no regards to the space and time in which we existed. I gazed into your dark brown eyes.

-I can see myself in your eyes.
You giggled.

-There will forever be you in it.
I blushed and hid my face against your hair.

Suddenly the music died. The 18th-century chandelier began to dim above us. I held you even closer. In the fading lights, I realized the image of me was no longer visible in your eyes. And so were the sight of your face. I grew panicked. I wanted this moment to stay.But there was nothing I could do besides watching your silhouette slowly became one with the darkness surrounding us.

***

I was back in the room. The radio was no longer there. I looked around and around for it, like a young kitten chasing its own tail. There was none to be found. I sat heavily on the hard floor, feeling rather frustrated and annoyed until moments later when a bright, ray of light shone into my eyes.

I stood up and dragged my feet towards the source. It was a window. I peeked through the glass. My eyes feasted upon the majestic sight of vast green fields and hills that seemed never ending. The sun was about to come out. I knew right away, it was sunrise.

***

-I always love sunrises.

-Why?

-Because I know I will have another day to love you.
You looked up to me before you leaned back against my chest.

-Then you must hate sunsets. Because the day ends with it.

-Not quite. Because I know I will have another night to spend with you.
You pinched me for my wily answer.

We laughed happily together. We savoured the morning ocean breeze, the crushing sound of waves hitting the shore and the sound of palm leaves brushing against each other. Almost like a harmonious symphony of nature.But to be honest, I'd rather be in the arid, unforgiving desert with you than to be in this moment alone.

You were building a sandcastle, although your novice artistic articulation caused your sandcastle looked more like an igloo to me. The sun rose higher and higher. I fell asleep. When I woke up, you were not around. I searched frantically for you, but there was not even a single footstep of you imprinted on the white, grainy sand along the beach.

-Where are you?

***

The window was gone. I was standing facing a solid wall. I screamed your name until my throat felt sore. I punched, kicked and rammed my body against it before the pain stopped me from continuing my futile effort. I flopped and cursed angrily. I could see the bruises and cuts on my battered limbs.

I guess that was exactly how your heart is right now. Bruised. Hurt. I closed my eyes and tried to recapture our happy times together. But the haunting vision of you shedding your tears overpowered me. I opened my eyes, only to find a blue envelope resided in front of me. It was very familiar to me. It had once came across the path of our life.

***

-Happy Birthday, my love.
I offered you a maroon coloured card with writings of silver ink.

-Happy Birthday to you too, dear.
You gave me a blue envelope. It was stained with your lips mark. Your signature.

You took a moment of silence and read the birthday card that I made for you.

"For the girl that I shared my birth, life, and death with,".

I heard your voice trembled. You stopped and looked deep into my eyes. I saw your teary eyes.

-Please don't cry. It's our birthday.
You inhaled few deep breaths and gained your composure once more.

-Aren't you going to see what's inside the white envelope?
I grinned and slowly opened the envelope. There was no birthday card to be found. Only a photo. Our photo that we took on our very first date years ago, also happened on our birthday. There were small writings engraved behind the photo.

"There is no birthday gift greater than to have you in my life"

I hugged you and kept the photo inside the envelope. You also placed the maroon birthday card along with it.

-Shall we get the cake now?

***

I reached for the blue envelope. I opened it slowly, not to damage the invaluable treasure inside it. I took out the maroon card. It was empty. No words whatsoever. I was left clueless. My shaky hands pulled out another treasure from the envelope; the photo. It was our photo. But there was only me left in it. You had vanished out of trace.

I sat alone, waiting for another flash of our memory.

Cerita Day(s) Without You: Part I

It was summer. I held you close in my arms at 13000 ft above sea level. We lay somewhere between closeness and acrophobia. We felt so small and unimportant, as the tantalizing violet and orange skies filled every corner of our senses.

We were experiencing skydiving.

My heart pounded crazily, almost out of rhythm. You wiped off the sweat on my forehead and planted a small kiss on my cheek. You whispered something into my ear. It took all my fears and worries away, just like the snow truck clearing the snowy road in Montreal on December.

-I'm always here, dear. Hang on to me.

You never have to tell me that. Because I will always try to hang on to you. My pillar, my life essence.

I closed my eyes as we plunged down towards the ground. I had to. I wasn't planning to black-out on air. You spoke softly to me.

-Open your eyes. You'll enjoy the view.

And I actually did enjoyed it. When all I see was you. I was lost in the greatest view on earth. You.

But you looked sad. I knew why you were sad. And I was sad too. I said something to you, but you couldn't understand what I was saying.

-I'm really sorry. I love you.

You turned your head away from me. It was like snapping every single strings from our love guitar. Droplets of water hit me on the face. I knew it was not rain.

-Please don't cry. I am suppose to make you happy.

I guess I failed. I knew I will lose you eventually, so I tightened my arms around you. Almost smothering your ever-calming body.

-You can't leave me alone.

You looked at me and said nothing. The parachute was deployed moments after that. We landed on an open field. Deserted. But I no longer cared if there is nobody else on this planet.

-I just want you to be here with me.

You gave me a final hug, and you said something I would never forget.

-Goodbye, dear.

I screamed for your name, but no words came out. I tried to chase you, but my legs went numb.
I could only watch you slowly disappeared beneath the horizon of my optical range.

Tragic.

I woke up at the sound of my alarm clock, only to realized how my reality is nothing better than my dream.

Cerita Satu Gambar

Welcome to my secret window.

Eze Village, Cote D'Azur, France
03.06.09

Cerita Sejadah

Kain sejadah banyak peristiwanya, tau?

Dia selalu bentangkan sejadah siap-siap ikut arah kiblat di lantai biliknya. Kalau mak masuk bilik dan tanya dah sembahyang ke belum, dia juihkan bibir ke arah sejadah, tanda sudah. Mak pun angguk, percaya anak jantan dia baru lepas sembahyang. Haru anak muda ni.

***

Dia berjalan balik bilik dari DS. Dia nampak orang ramai dalam bilik dia. Dia dah boleh agak. Mesti ada makan-makan ni. Kalau tak, haram tak ada orang berkunjung. Dia tengok orang makan bersepah, sikit lagi nak kena kain sejadah dia. Hati dah tak senang, takut sejadah kotor. Dia berdehem dan tegur:

-Wei, baik-baik sikit. Kotor kang sejadah aku. Aku nak iron baju japgi.

***

Dia kelam kabut punggah almari dia. Mana kain sejadah. Nak solat hajat. Esok exam. Dia cari lagi. Namun tiada ketemu. Rupa-rupanya, dia tak bawak kain sejadah dia datang oversea.

***

Dia terbaring kaku, miskin tanpa walau senafas. Keranda ditutup. Sehelai kain sejadah usang dihampar diatas keranda, buat peneman perjalanan terakhirnya ke liang lahad.

***

Di manakah kain sejadah anda? Jangan biar usang tanpa amalan.

Cerita Perfect Sanctuary

Mind you, it could be as long as a nigga's dick or as short as a firefly's life.

I want my perfect sanctuary to be an unimaginably enormous Mediterranean villa, overlooking the crystal-clear blue sea, hidden from the view of corrupters and defilers.

I want my perfect sanctuary to have a mini zoo or a safari, where animals can run freely, relieved from the brutish, savage poachers and hunters. But I don't expect them to shit anywhere they like.

I want my perfect sanctuary to be filled with things and people that makes me feel rejoiced, makes this small sometimes-black heart blooms like tulips in Keukenhoff garden in early April. Or even makes me feel giddy, the kind that you have during the night before your very first date.

I want my high school memories to be enshrined in one of the many rooms I have. Let there be tables at the back of the room, so Gad, Pok Din and Ali can sit and sing whatever boyband shit they wanted to. Let there be videos of how Zhorif used to sleep in class and drooled all over his maths book. Let there be a boxing ring so that Nazir and Sya can fight their heart out. We can leave out a table at the corner of the room just in case Nazirul wants to study.

The room next to it is for my college class. I don't want it to be clean.or beautiful. I want sweet wrappers all over the floor, and that sharp smell of vinegar which Amir spilled after G4 project. Because that's the way it was back then. Let there again be laughters and insults towards each other; for things can only get merrier with it. Let there be millions of pictures we captured together, the obvious proof of such cam-whore our class were back then.

There is a small room with a brain picture on the door; my counselling room. Let there be my pillars; Eddy, Mai, Yaz. Let there be heart-pouring session, where I can laugh and cry without shame and without worry. Even farting is tolerable here. All of you has been a wonderful friend, even belanja makan at any expensive restaurant won't be able to repay your kindness (that's why I never did that).

I want a small library filled with entertaining books. I would call it the Archive. I want Charlie and Chocolate Factory, Alice in Wonderland, Hansel and Gretel to be there. And I don't mind having Am's and NJ's blog in printed form either. Mild-erotic magazines are very welcomed here. Just in case Am wants to come over.

At the backyard, I want a futsal field so that I can enjoy my daily dose of football with my fellow friends, especially Gangdust FC. Let there be elastico, la rabona, rainbow flick and 360degree turn. I hope Syahmi won't forget his turf shoes this time because its astroturf. Here, we can play until late at night without ever worrying our ball being confiscated by Puan Hanirus.

At the basement, I want to have a very large furnace. This is where I get to burn down every remnants of sickness that I have in my mind. The kind of sickness that you get from seeing girls around you go nuts over celebrities like Zac Efron and that pale Twilight hero. I don't even bother to remember his name. You might label me as being jealous, but the truth is I'm sad to see how shallow you are despite of the high level of education that you are in now. Oh, I might even throw those people who create silly quizzes on facebook into the furnace.

I want a room with an X mark. Of which only I can have access to it. And only I know where it is. This is where I keep all my dirty secrets; of perversions and humiliations. Hope Mommy won't stumble upon this room when she does the cleaning on Sunday morning.

And I want everybody that I can call friend to be at my sanctuary and never leave again. For who am I without pals and mates like all of you.

Plus maybe we can share the taxes and utility bills.