Saturday, 22 July 2017

" I don't want to be near to someone foreign. I want to be so close to you even when it means to be far apart, doing different things at different times. I don't know where this distance will bring us this time, or make us feel, I don't know, I am not sure. I don't know that it will collide us towards each other or stretch us far apart until we snap. Until we meet again, I will keep looking up to the night sky where the moon is in crimson, maybe somewhere, out there, in the darkest night, you are looking back at it as well."

Wednesday, 19 July 2017


Everything has been quite a storm that barged into my life lately, and I feel very out of place. It's true that Rome wasn't built in a day but these chaos wiped all my fences gone.

God, why is Ed Sheeran playing while I'm writing this?

Honestly, I feel very numb. I can't differentiate between being happy or sad, sometimes I'm up watching the fireworks on Everest and a blink of eye later, I am stranded after being pushed down a cliff. Everything that revolves in my life seems mad and I can't join the dots to any of them, but they say that in this world, the mad people are sane, so I conclude that I am the 'okay'est person on the planet. In my universe, at least.

I used to dislike Lang Leav. One minus point for her expensive books that I can finish after an hour in the bookstore while waiting for Ma to finish her shopping spree, and I am fine with expensive books, like R.M.Drake's, but not when it only has 200-300+ pages. Another minus point for her proses and poems that only circulates in one idea; love. She is a good writer, and I am anticipated in reading her works, but the hype will be gone after 20 pages. An unpopular opinion of mine, there are other feelings in the world. Anxious, angry, bored, lazy, curious, sad, sick, crazy, lost, not feeling anything. Why not make a masterpiece by combining them all. I even have a poem about the pain of a mosquito bite. No kidding.

But yesterday, I don't know whose novel did it belong to, but it has been residing at the bookshelf for quite some time, with thick dust covering it. I was trying to distract myself, so I pulled it out. It was The Universe Of Us from Leav. I read it anyway, and I was shocked, because it felt that all the words that she penned on the paper shot me like bullets to my chest. I felt it was written for me, or the exact feeling, as if I was the one that wrote it. That is the power of poets. They make you feel less alone when they convey their hearts out. Not all, but there may be a few stanzas that they described perfectly that you wish you can write the same. Wish you can tell the same.

I also went for a jog, after months of not doing so. The usual pain came, but I ran anyway, knowing that it will ease after all. I wished every step that I ran to all the doubts and problems that I have, hoping that I could leave them behind. I didn't know what will that has pushed me, but I managed to run a round of TASA. Believe me, this was my first. Am I reliving memories? I don't know. I just keep running.

When there's a will, there's a way, and God, please show me one.

Monday, 17 July 2017


Ma and I were chilling in the car that was parked near the basketball court after lunch. Time check, 2.45 p.m. Ma didn't have the radio on, she wanted to listen to Ungu's Tercipta Untukku that she downloaded on her tab. Maybe, well, maybe, she had found the one after all.

                            " Come, show me your nails. Are your nails long?", Ma asked while searching for a nailclipper in her makeup bag. I grinned and handed my fingers to her. She shook her head and pulled my hand closer to her. She covered her lap with a Crocs recyclable bag to not let my nails make a mess. I know how to clip my own nails, I certainly do, but I will never clip it as perfect as Ma, especially at my toenails. So, when she clips her nails at home, I will come near to her and plaster my face at the waste basket where she throws her long nails away. It is also like a manicure session for me hehe.

As she was clipping my nails, Ma sighed and said,

                           "Macamanalah kalau mama dah tak ada nanti".

I gasped and my heart suddenly ache, but I encountered those uneasy feelings by jokingly saying, "Ma, apalah guna seorang suami nanti", yes, dear future husband, when you marry a Maleen, you have to marry her flaws, clinginess and her dependance towards you, such as helping her to clip her nails and make sure she has them short by the weekend. On the other hand, I'll try my best to train myself to iron a pair of slacks without double lines and master many techniques of tying a tie knot. 

Ma didn't utter a laugh and continued to clip my nails. Her silence sunken me into my deep thoughts. I am very 'manja' with Ma, and my other family members because I am the only child in the family and the firstborn grandchild. I live with Ma, only the two of us most of the time due to some circumstances, so imagine how I am very close to her despite the petty fights and all, but it is always settled within a question, "Let's go eat". 

I figured out that the reason why I want Ma to do the little things for me, such as clipping my fingernails, sometimes comb my hair, is because I want to make little bits of memories here and there with her. And living away from her makes me realize that maybe, somehow I can retrieve some of the times that I'm not there with her by doing these little things. Maybe, nauzubillah, if she leaves first, I have a chamber of them with me to re-live in our small house in Klang, our common ground.

I can read it from her face, I know that she was, and always worried about me. I understand why. I do have relatives and all, but if she's gone, I will lose my little family. I will lose my place of comfort. I will lose the only person that can read me like an open book and knows it all, and handle me with patience that she may also lose sometimes when my tantrums strike. Who will I turn to when the day comes? Who can ever have the wisdom to deal with all my emotional wrecks and shits? Who will be reliable enough for me to depend on and have the generous courtesy to help me remembering Ma by doing things that she had used to do for me, like clipping my nails? 

The grand question is, who will be strong enough to not give up and hold me back up when I am totally lost to destiny?

I know I will never do enough to repay all her kindness and blessings for raising me, but I hope I will be given the space and time to do the best for her before she leaves in peace. 

Yes, I can be very dependant and all, but she doesn't have to worry, as her daughter is an explorer that collects her strength from the beach sky and the beating waves, and someday the pebbles of sand will carve lines on the way she should go. She has absolute faith in that.