165: do you kopi

i was jingled into believing that

hitam itu keunggulan:

invoking senses by blended scents rising

from steaming water stirred

with spoonfuls of bold black and sugarcane specks,

the whirlpool pulling me in

is a dark swirl of mixed notes

and spiralling memories, of moods

swinging from the coldest of temperaments

to blistering tempers and tongues.

i grew up thinking

everyone started their day with java,

that instead of learning to ice our burns,

we were all taught

that all it takes to deal with heated things

is to pour out the contents in a shallow container,

and either blow some steam off or wait for it cool down

before you dip in and sip

till the last drop.

life feels a lot like a cup of kopi o

complex

bittersweet

anxiety-inducing.

wait.

is that why i just buy four boxes of fruity teas?

Last updated: 2019-09-03 5.27pm

158: volcanot

i grew up in a volcano.
visitors marvel at the vegetation above me
- lush forests growing from fertile soil
failing to hear plates crashing
into each other.

deep within the dark earth,
high pressured liquid fires and deathly fumes
are ever on the verge of erupting
and i'm tired.



2019-02-13, 4.50pm

150: Sayang

she calls me Sayang
as her love straightjackets me
while the padded walls absorb my screams
and my streams and my dreams
and it seems that she thinks she’s trying
to save me by tugging me tightly
but i’m no barbie in abaya,
nothing but a black sheep in wire
who'd rather crossfire than conspire,
wearing social justice warrior
as a badge of honor.
.
dia panggil aku Sayang,
dan aku dihidupkan untuk menjadi bonekanya yang
solek-selokanya bak bidadari tanpa bayang-bayang.
tapi sayang, suaraku tak semerdu dayang
rambut tak lebat berikal mayang
lidah tak sehalus tali lelayang
tubuhku tak seramping tiang
senyumku tak semanis angan-angan siang.
.
dia panggil aku Sayang,
tapi diriku dah penat ditayang.
sendiku sakit dihuyung-hayang,
diheret, disentak rentak si juru wayang.
yet even after decades of resistance
i am still struggling to keep a distance
between her scripts for me and my own reality.
.
she calls me Sayang,
and sometimes i wonder
if the word has lost its meaning
because the more she talks to me
the more redundant she makes me feel.
.
she calls me Sayang,
so the saying "marah maknanya sayang"
is really just gaslighting,
isn't it?


2019-04-12 7.20pm
2018-01-30 3.06pm

146: heavy mental

i've been asked
about my insistence in preserving
the sights+sounds+tastes+scents+strokes
of those i love
   but
i cannot put into words
why my fear of losing these Memories
   is so strong
       it hurts.

perhaps
i am simply
   Sentimental;
trying to tiptoe while tumbling through blocks
of matter and no-matters
and make sense of everything
in this sensational yet desensitised world
   is nonsensical
      but

perhaps
   (for better or worse)
   (and this is okay)
this is just
      how i Love.

99: they say it gets easier

as my hands
already overbr
imming
with half-
baked promises
and swOllen from the burden of
inc_mpl_t_ tasks
are faced with
LifteD
brows;
it gets easier, they say
as they
generously offer
MORE MORE MORE
of everything
without even *batting* an eyelash,
with a heapful of
words of enc(our)agement
like
l e t u s f i l l y o u i n
there's no better way to learn;
it gets easier, they say
but
There seems to be vicious creatures
TERRORIsing them in their homes
which are often called commITments,
but oh
"nothing for you to worry about,
pup
pet,
because commITments only
b
u
g
people who have
something called
LIFE

they say it gets easier,
"don't worry --
later
you can do the same to your juniors."

-
written: april '13

last edited: 021313

87: BittersweeTea

sweet
is my iced wintermelon tea
as i nibble at the gummy bubbles
and the flavored rainbow jellies
-munch
-munch
look outside
-munch
an old woman walks past
-munch
-mun--
her blanket over her arm
---ch
her hair unkempt
-pause
her expression confused
-stare
her clothes disarray
-focus
Homeless?
-assess
Disowned!
-conclude
Disability.
-pause

-munch.

-look down
chatime in my palm
-look out
blanket on her arm
-stop

Gulp.

sweet
is my iced wintermelon tea,
but did it always have
such a bitter aftertaste?

Aug 11 2013

68: like them

why must i
respect people who could straight up lie
worry what everyone thinks until i want to cry
be forced to be a busybody when i hate to pry
work like an adult but be treated like a child
wear what they wear because it's in style
pretend i'm a tree, powerless and docile
listen to views that are far from fertile
have expensive taste and be in denial?

why must i
be sly
without making a sigh
and without feeling vile?

and why must i
do all this to beguile
and without asking why
like them?

63: Where the heart is

a few of our paintings in this corner
a flower in a mug right over there
a bunch of pebbles on the kitchen table
sand and shells in a bottle somewhere

a black and white sculpture on the table
a lot of sunshine, with light in tight spots
a psychadellic rug to brighten up the area
some fans around in case it gets too hot

a disco ball in the middle of the fun room
a few places for books i love but barely read
a mismatched set of rainbowy kitchen things
mini garden at the back (no clue yet on what seeds)

a bed as if i'm sleeping on chocolate clouds
a colorful bunch of essentials for the bathroom
a few stained glass bowls with candles inside
space to geek out - where minds go boom.

a wall of pictures for the people in our life
a fridge of stuff homegrown or homemade
items in each room that remind us of Him
if all this came true, i know i'd have it made.

a few choice paintings in this corner
a flower in a mug right over there
a bunch of pebbles on the kitchen table
sand and shells in a bottle somewhere

a black and white sculpture on the table
a diy standing lamp in a tight spot
a psychadellic rug to brighten up the area
some fans around in case it gets too hot

a disco ball in the middle of the fun room
a few shelves for books i love but barely read
a whole set of rainbowy kitchen things
mini garden at the back (no clue yet on what seeds)

a bed with sheets as if i'm sleeping on clouds
a colorful set of essentials for the bathroom
a few stained glass bowls for candles inside
space to geek out - where minds go boom.

a wall of pictures for the people in my life
a fridge of stuff homegrown or homemade
items in each room that remind me of Him
if all this came true, i know i'd have it made.

56: into thin air

would they notice, if
i disappeared into thin
air? no, i doubt it.

unworthy of being visible in their eyes.

51: who i really am

from the depths of my soul,

at the bottom of my heart,

inside the core of my mind,

underneath it all, 

i am

afraid of being alone
of being left alone
of being left behind
of being left undone;

afraid of being apart
of being broken apart
of being broken inside
of being broken hearted;

afraid of being unloved
of being eventually unloved
of being eventually ignored
of being eventually forgotten;

afraid of being disappointed
of being predictably disappointed
of being predictably disappointing
of being predictably unneeded.

these 'irrational' fears                    

guide me

          restrict me

                    control me

                              force me

                              to

do the things i do 

think the way i think 

feel the crap i feel.

from the depths of my soul,
           at the bottom of my heart,          

inside the core of my mind, 

          underneath it all,                        

i am

Sca(r)red

49: monu_ental

the only spaces
we can fill in our lives are
breaks and intervals

1/11/12 3.23am

35: eid is.

of themed new clothes in treasured family pics,
of toothy cackles against sparkles and fired sticks;

of cash in packets and kissing elderly's hands,
of devouring delicious foods and asking for amends;

of wanting peace and happiness for people the world around,
all of this and infinitely more! but not quite for everyone, i found.

- 21/8/12 4.27pm

29: Sweet cookie

   this
'chocolate sandwich marshmallow cake'
                    (as it says on the strange-looking package)
which,
     i have to admit,
 has been in my bag
      for the past 3 weeks
        -- at least
               (i'm sure) --
was a gift from a girl of about eight
  because she saw
       my face
          (darken)
when i had just realised
that i
       just missed
           a trip
              that i had been looking forward to
                for the past 2 weeks.

it's all squished up inside,
  but it still tastes sweet.

My cousin's son gave me choc. It was very sweet of her, especially considering how she's quite a cheeky one. She reminds me of Dora the explorer :)

27: Unsound (Public Transport People #2)

i can't remember how it started, but

the lady next to me told me that
the lady next to her told her that
she didn't know when to get off.
she was simply told
to get on at kl sentral,
then get off at senawang.

it was her first time on a komuter.

white-haired, deaf, and illiterate,
she only had a bag of clothes
and a torn paper with a scribbled number
without a phone to call it with.

it was her first time on a komuter.

as her petite frame shrinked further into her seat
and her tired, weary eyes repeatedly searched the carriage
perhaps for a familiar face,
perhaps for some kind of miracle,
in the end, the only thing she could do
was wait until she stops at a train station

that she couldn't even read the name of.


last updated: 2016-01-31 7.10pm

---


everytime i think of this old lady, my heart breaks.

---


as i boarded the ktm
the lady next to me told me that
the lady next to her told her that
she wasn't sure where to stop.
she was simply told to
get on at kl sentral, and
get off at senawang,
on a komuter train -- her first time in her life -- without anyone to accompany her.

it seems incomprehensible to me that
she can't hear or say much
(she's quite deaf, you see),
and she can't read much,
(she's quite illiterate, you see),
and she doesn't have a phone
(because let's be realistic here -- it's not like she can hear or talk or read anything on a phone),

and yet here she is,
this teary-eyed white-haired woman in her 70's,
sitting in a moving train she has never been on,
not knowing how to read a route map
(or even how to tell the time),
and frightened and alone and overwhelmed that
she is a deaf and illiterate woman in her 70's
without a definite means to say "I'm here!" to,
and the only thing she could do
was wait for someone to get her when she stops at a station

that she can't even read the name of.

=============

i can't remember how it started, but

the lady next to me told me that
the lady next to her told her that
she wasn't sure where to stop.
she was simply told
(by the son and daughter) to
get on at kl sentral, and
get off at senawang,
on a ktm komuter -- for her first time in her life -- without anyone to accompany her.

it seems incomprehensible to me that
she can't hear or say much
(she's quite deaf, you see),
and she can't read much
(she's quite illiterate, you see),
and she doesn't have a phone
(because COME ON -- it's not like she can hear or talk or read anything on a phone),

and yet here she is,
this teary-eyed white-haired woman in her 70's,
sitting in a moving train she has never been on,
not knowing how to read a route map
(or where 'senawang' even is)
and frightened and alone and overwhelmed because
she is a deaf and illiterate woman in her 70's
who could only wait for someone to get her when she stops at a station

that she can't even read the name of.


8.24pm

---

i can't remember how it started, but

the lady next to me told me that
the lady next to her told her that
she wasn't sure where to stop.
she was simply told
(by her son and daughter) to
get on at kl sentral, and
get off at senawang,
on a ktm komuter -- for the first time in her life -- without anyone to assist her.

it seems incomprehensible to me that
she can't hear or say much
(she's quite deaf, you see),
and she can't read much
(she's quite illiterate, you see),
and she doesn't have a phone
(because LET'S BE REALISTIC -- it's not like she can hear or talk or read anything on a phone),

and yet here she is,
this teary-eyed white-haired woman in her 70's,
sitting in a moving train she has never been on,
without a clue of how to read a route map, and

without any way of saying (to whoever is picking her up) "I'm here!".


sitting next to strangers
who can barely understand her, and
trying to hold back feelings of sadness, fear,
loneliness and how overwhelmed she was
as a deaf and illiterate woman in her 70's
sitting in a moving train with no familiar faces around her
and the only she could do,
was wait for someone to get her when she stops at a train station

that she can't even read the name of.

---


i can't remember how it started, but

the lady next to me told me that
the lady next to her told her that
she wasn't sure where to stop.
she was simply told
(by her son and daughter) to
get on at kl sentral, then
get off at senawang
on a ktm komuter (for the first time in her life -- and without any assistance).

it seems incomprehensible to me that
she can't hear or say much
(she's quite deaf, you see),
and she can't read much
(she's quite illiterate, you see),
and she doesn't have a phone
(because LET'S BE REALISTIC -- it's not like she can hear or talk or read anything on a phone),
and yet here she is, this
white-haired woman in her 70's,
sitting in a vehicle she has never been on,
without a clue of how to read a route map, and
without any way of saying (to whoever was going to pick her up) "I'm here!".

sitting next to those who can
barely understand what she utters,
her watery eyes, reflecting
her fear of uncertainty and abandonment,
look around at the unfamiliar faces
with hope but in vain
because the only thing she could do
was wait for someone to get her when she stops at a train station

that she can't even read the name of.

---

24: Nature vs Nurture

you always make it seem
like my sole purpose
in life
is to hurt you.

with the way i
walk,
talk,
argue,
and refuse;
the way i
hesitate,
aggravate,
disappoint,
and miss your point (of view).

i do wonder
if your image of me
is not entirely
untrue.

really,
i don't mean to be mean,
but there are times i think
subconsciously,
i do.

12.12am

22: It's a Girl/Thing

Silly thing,

Girls can't climb trees
or play with ladybugs
or chase chickens
or arm-wrestle!

Girls must cook things
and do house chores
and be pretty
and just listen!

Silly thing.

12.11am

21: What I was told

ever since i could remember,
i was constantly told that i was
a bit too dark and my body was
a bit too fat and my hair was
a bit too curly and my feet were
a bit too crooked and my voice was
a bit too loud and my smile was
a bit too wide and my demeanor was
a bit too unfeminine and my pronunciations were
a bit too gobbled up and that
nobody
will marry me unless i changed.

bless your hearts
for warning me of how my life will always revolve around the idea of how marriage-material i am,
and
please excuse my insolence in questioning your authority and wisdom
but
i'm a bit Confused:

if i change, there is a chance someone might like me,
but
if i change, is there a chance i will like myself?

11.33pm

1: Her Puddle

The alarm clock started to beep at exactly half-past seven, as it always does. That particular day however, the alarm rudely interrupted a pleasant dream Sade was having. She couldn't remember what happened or even who was in it, but she knew it was a nice dream, which is something she hadn't had in a while. At least, not since the accident.

"Tch. Why do alarms always go off at the best part?", she grunted, as the deafening sound continued.

Annoyed, she reached out to try to silence the damn thing, and after what seemed like a forever of flailing her arms around her bedside table, she finally managed to switch off the alarm.

"Mmm...peace and quiet...", she murmured, almost pleased with herself.

Sleeping in for a few extra minutes probably wouldn't hurt, she decided. It was a weekend after all.

Fiercely hoping that she could still continue the dream she was having, she then snuggled back under the covers, trying to find that perfect comfy spot. She soon realised though, that the post-alarm 'peace & quietness' she had been expecting didn't happen. She scratched her right cheek subconsciously and sighed. She didn't even have to open her eyes to know that last night's weather forecast had been wrong.

Looks like the picnic's not gonna happen after all, she mused as she slowly opened her eyes. When her vision was well-adjusted, she turned to look outside her window for a few seconds. Funnily enough, she didn't feel all that disappointed.

Sade slowly forgot her plan to sleep in as she continued to watch the rain falling outside her room. She got tired of lying down after a while, so she eventually sat up and did a small stretch. She gently gathered her hair into a tiny bunch and used a light blue hairband to tie her hair - the one she only wears at home, because its fluffy bits were already starting to wear out. Despite how it looks, she loved because it was given to her by her pa.

The last thing he gave me, she remembered sadly.

Before she continued to reminisce about her past (it always happens, especially in this weather), she quickly made sure the hairband was tight enough in her hair. She shifted into a chair next to the windowsill, and somehow became mesmerised by the sights and sounds of the rain.  

There's just something magical about it...

Perhaps it's the rhythmic pit-pattering sound, like a continuous flow of water - calm and sure. Or maybe it's the cute, round droplets of water that somehow appear outside her glass windows that gives her that good feeling; stubbornly staying in place, no matter how heavy the rain gets. Or perhaps, she considered as she looked down at the road, it's the puddles on the streets that make her feel this way.

She loved puddles. She even had one she particularly liked, on the street in front of her house. She loved them because no matter how much water splashes out when vehicles drive through them, the rainwater always creeps back in, creating another pool of water. It's like a neverending cycle, which is something she can somewhat relate to. After all, it's always the rain that reminds her of painful memories from the past, and only rain can make her feel better - nothing and no one else.

Ah, stop all this sentimental nonsense, she scolded herself.

Feeling defeated, she breathed into the glass to form an irregular-shaped vapour, and slowly drew a smiley face on it. Just as she finished the face with a smile, she heard someone calling out her name.

"Sade!! SADE!!! Are you awake???", a female voice called out from downstairs.

She sighed. "Yeees!!", she cried out in response.

She walked closer to her door and opened it just enough so that she and her ma didn't have to continue screaming at each other.

Now that she thought about it, her ma rarely shouted like that - especially not this early. Sade began to wonder what all the fuss was about.

"What is it, ma?", she asked, softer this time.

Her mother didn't respond. Sade strained her ear and realised that her ma was talking with someone, but she couldn't hear the other person's voice.

What kind of person would come to another person's house this early?, she wondered.

"Sade, SADE! Come down now hun! Hurry!!!", her ma shouted again from the bottom of the stairs. She sounded almost frantic.

Slightly worried, Sade opened her door cautiously and walked down the hallway almost stealthily. As she reached the top of the staircase, she heard her ma sobbing, and then laughing.

WHAT is going on?..., she pondered, instantly losing all her sleepiness. Without thinking, she ran downstairs as fast as her feet could carry her. At that point, she couldn't tell if her heart was beating like mad, or if it had stopped beating entirely.

As soon as she reached the bottom step, Sade could hear her ma's laughter again... but she was almost scared to look in the dining area, where the sounds were coming from.

She could hear her mom and... a familiar voice. A sweet voice she hadn't heard in years.

Is he... who I think he is?

"If this is a dream", she whispered, "please at least let me see him before my alarm clock goes off...'

After counting to three, Sade cautiously walked into the area her ma and the mysterious person was in. The first sight she saw was her ma leaning on the fridge; her cheeks were wet, but she had a large smile, the kind that Sade hasn't seen in a long time. Sade just realised how much she missed that gorgeous smile of hers.

 A familiar chuckle then caught Sade's attention. It came from the direction of the person her ma had been so enraptured with.

 When Sade saw who the mysterious person was, her jaw dropped.

  "P- pa?...", she stuttered, still unsure if he was real.

 Both her parents turned around to see their daughter gaping at them like a goldfish, too stunned to do or say anything else.

 Her pa grinned when he saw how stiff she became, and staggered towards her. She looked at him up and down, and gasped when she saw a prosthetic leg under his left knee. She didn't know how to react. She was about to help, but he motioned at her that he didn't need any.

 Sade bit her bottom lip hard, watching her pa continue struggling towards her. Unsteadily, but surely. Seeing him in such a way unconciously made her eyes water - not out of sympathy, but out of relief. She quickly registered the way her father looked at that moment - his wet hair (he hated umbrellas so he probably walked here without one), the towel around his neck (which was longer on one side, as he always wears it), his face (which had more scars than she remembered).

 Yes, it's most certainly him: this is her pa who she hasn't seen in years.

 Lost in her thoughts, she didn't realise that he was already in front of her until he poked her left cheek, startling her. He gave her his smile that she thought she' would never see again, and extended his arms around her, signalling that she should be prepared for his signature bearhug.

 Without a second's notice, she hugged him tight, hoping she wouldn't wake up to find it had all been a dream. It was like a hungry tiger lunging at a prey it had been starving for -- fierce and desperate.

 After a while, Sade's ma teased that she should probably let go so that her poor pa can sit down.

 "His prosthetics aren't the expensive type, so they're not comfortable to stand in for too long", her ma joked.

 After a few more seconds, Sade reluctantly let go of her pa and pulled him to a chair. She looked straight at him - not knowing whether to smile, cry or laugh. Her pa just laughed and looked at his wife, half-amused, half-concerned.

 "Pa, why are you here?", Sade finally blurted out.

 He blinked for a moment, and then his lips broke into a smile. "I assume you know about my fall four years ago?", he asked his daughter carefully.

 She nodded, paying full attention.

 He adjusted his sitting position and continued. "It was raining heavily that day, so it wasn't surprising that I fell down that cliff. None of my team members found me because it was too dark and dangerous... truthfully even I still think it's a miracle I survived", he stopped, as if to recollect his thoughts. "I was found by the locals a few days after, but I was in a coma that lasted a few months. I didn't have any ID on me, so nobody knew who I was or where I was from, or how I even got there. Most importantly, they didn't know who to call to inform about my situation."

 Sade's ma poured him a cup of coffee and handed it to him. He winked at her, causing her to giggle. Sade wasn't sure if it was sweet or gross - probably both - but she continued watching him.

 "Anyway, when I finally came to, I returned home to find that you two had already moved. It must've been hard for you two these past few years...", he stopped to look at his wife with a sad expression, and she smiled as she looked at the floor. "In any case, I've been around the country since then, but I couldn't trace you. Nobody seemed to know where you were".

 He gulped down half of his mug's content before he continued. "I almost gave up, to be honest. I only came here by accident, because one of the guys from my last mission lives around the corner. I was driving to his place a couple of days ago when I saw someone that looked like my Sade lying on the grass on the front yard -- a bigger version of her, of course", he rummaged through her hair. In the past she would've complained, but now she simply grinned.

 "I was dead sure that it was my Sade that I saw, so Dan and I checked with some of the other neighbors to confirm if it was really you and Anna who live here... and here I am". He downed the rest of his coffee, marking the end of his story.

 "But you could've waited till later in the day to give me the shock of my life", his wife muttered. She buried her smile with her mug, hoping he didn't see it.

 He chuckled. "But I wanted to be the first thing you see today, dear." Anna blushed at this, as he got up and slowly walked towards her. He kissed her on the forehead, and brushed his fingers across her cheeks.

 "Happy birthday to me", he said softly. His wife cocked an eyebrow.

 "But... it's not your birthday", she said, surprised.

 "Hey, it's the day I came back from the dead, remember?", he cheekily replied. Before she could respond, he felt a tug on his shirt. He turned to see a pair of pleading eyes looking at him.

 "Pa, can we go out for a second?", she quietly asked.

 "Out?", he looked out into the rain. "But it's raining, dear".

 "I know. Just for a second... please?"

Her ma looked at her strangely, but her pa finally nodded. Immediately Sade dragged him towards their garden, without even bothering to take off their house slippers. Standing in the rain with their feet dirty from the mud, she closed her eyes, faced skywards, and finally broke into a huge smile - her first real one since she had heard that her pa died.

The perplexed man and the thoughtful daughter continued to stand there as the rain continued to pour, like it would never stop. A moment later, a car drove past her house, and a child in the passenger seat stared at Sade and her pa with bulging eyes - probably curious about why they're standing in the rain.

Sade didn't care.

Eventually the car drove through her favourite puddle, splashing out almost all the water it had in it. She quietly watched as the rain filled it again. When the puddle started to overflow, she looked at her pa and squeezed him tight.

 "I think we should have a picnic to celebrate your birthday, pa", she finally said, out of the blue. Her confused pa just laughed and nodded.

Anna quietly watched them from their doorstep. She held back her tears as her husband wrapped his arm around their daughter, and walked back towards their house.

Right before she closed the door, Sade gazed at the puddle on the street, still over-brimming with rainwater.

"Thank you for filling me up again, rain", she said softly, and slowly pushed the door close.

  - The End -

---------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: This is a project thought up by my junior in college, Daniel Azere (I call him Ben tho, I can't fully remember why). Out of boredom, I wrote on my FB status that I missed writing, and he suggested we write something, anything, under the theme of 'rain'. I started writing this that very night, but it took me several days to edit, redraft and finally publish this.

Like Ben, I find rainy weather rather romantic. However I gotta admit that I might have been influenced to think this because in Bishoujo Senshi Sailormoon (one of my favouritest mangas of all time), weather was often used to show a change in mood/atmosphere, and in the series, dewy/rainy weather tends to make the characters think of the past (and about their love lives, amusingly). So... yeah. Heheh.

Btw, do you like the name Sade (pron. Saa-deh)? It means 'rain' in Finnish. I really like it :)

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this little story. Have a great day, folks! :)

Time taken: roughly 3 days.