45: but we be rollin

i do want to do so many things
with, for, to, and because of
you;
but, as it were,
we keep reminding each other
(we keep reminding ourselves?)
'we are untied,
we need to be patient,
we have to hold back'.

but is that truly the reason
for this rollercoaster of emotions?

is it our circumstances that's keeping us apart,
or our doubts and scars deep inside our hearts?


27/10/12 12pm

42: damaged

why?

why are you in such a state?
why are you in so much pain?
why are you so... damaged?

what have you done to yourself?
what has society done to make you this way?
what have we all done to cause us to be like this?

i'm really curious to know why you are the way you are
and i'm also scared to know what you might answer.

40: Falling

you entreat me to dance,
and as affections, lust and romance
start to fill the air; right before that state of trance,

i sober up.

wait.
think.

do you truly like me, or
just the idea of not being lonely?

39: convoluted

CONVOLUTED
are your words,
reasons,
excuses,
thoughts,
promises,
emotions,
flirtations,
and your whole
past, present and future.

i know you are well aware of
(and that you are sadistically watching)
me being overwhelmed by all this,

but come closer; there's something for you i need to whisper:

the harder i try
to figure you out,
the harder it is for me
to believe what comes out of your mouth.

so goodbye.

38: fragile

hearts are such fragile things.

once broken, they're not easy to fix.
once shattered, they're not easy to pick.

sure, you can try to
glue the pieces back together,
tape the cracks to mend them better,
stitch the chunks to make them gather;
and if you succeed,
you should end up with a
(swollen, glued, taped and stitched up) heart
which
if you look closely,
real closely,
will still beat
albeit ever so slowly.

of course, that's if you can look past
the brown-stained glue, tape and stitches and
the crimson droplets slowly oozing out
of the gaps between them.

hearts are such fragile things, after all.
so won't you handle them with care?

37: bloody vengeance

let's just move on and pretend
that everything that happened didn't happen,
because i do not fully understand
(and you can't possibly comprehend)
why these old scars have reopened,
but they hurt like fucking vengeance.

36: eid in my family

we don't have eid the way other families do

we don't wear matching colors
we don't balik kampung at our parents' hometowns
we don't sing (or even know) that many raya songs
we don't make our own lemang, ketupat or kuih raya
we don't even play bunga api or mercun anymore.

but
we do have okay clothes for eid
we do look forward to an un-busy KL
we do love catching up with relatives and friends
we do make our own rendangs (and order everything else)
we do still clear up the 'abodes' of those who are no longer with us.

yeah, we don't have eid the way other families do.
but it's okay. we're okay.

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

33: The Neverending bundles of Joy

Once, I saw a colourful curse
gorgeously graffitied
on an otherwise unflattering floor.
The menacing message read:

"May you enjoy marking
our assessments
as much as we enjoyed
answering them".

Try dodging that, fellow teachers!

Happy Exam Season.

32: marking blues

the test papers
in my bag
are only half-done;
but i
really
really
don't feel like
marking right now.

lord help me.

30: A Furry Ordeal

   feeling a bit chilly,
i curl my legs into
   my kaftan nightie
as i lay down on the bed
   trying to make myself comfy,
when this ball of fur comes along
   and gets all cosy
as she snuggles herself
   right next to me
and proceeds to sleep
   soundly.

10.12pm

as much as i hated waking her (ie. iqa's cat, simba) about half an hour later ... i really couldn't feel my legs. =_=

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.

---

26: Balance (Public Transport People #1)

of all the passengers
on the lrt, he stood out
like a quiet moth
against social butterflies.

wearing
an oversized security guard uniform,
a funny-looking hat,
a slightly faded backpack,
a pair of dusty black loafs and
a sullen expression,

his clumsy hands
held onto the railing as
his frail body
swayed along with the movement of the train.

yet
this dispirited man,
confused or drowning or lost or stuck
in his own world,
still managed to keep his balance
no matter how abruptly the lrt stops.

i wonder what kept him going.

3.08pm

---

i love people-watching, especially on public transports.

25: The Gamble

hearts
are such fragile things,

but
you have to risk
the ache
of losing yours
if you want to
truly
win over
someone else's;

no pain,
no gain.

 ---

 2.12am

to a friend's admirer: 
just confess and get on with life already

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

23: Sober

when i was 5,
i wanted to be an artist:
i wanted to make beautiful things and figure out
the best way to color a shape
without going beyond the line.

when i was 10,
i wanted to be an astronomer:
i wanted to gaze at the stars in the sky and figure out
exactly
which constellations each of them belong to.

when i was 15,
i wanted to be an engineer:
i wanted to invent awesome things and figure out
how to fix anything
and everything.

when i was 20,
i wanted to be a teacher:
i wanted to inspire people to be better and figure out
ways to capture the attention
of students with different personalities, interests and learning abilities.

but now that i'm this close to being what i wanted to be,
i've learnt that i'm not supposed to
'figure things out'.

all i needed to do is simply say:

"saya yang menurut perintah".


11.54pm

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

20: Starry-eyed

Just
like stars
revolving around the
sea of galaxies in
the vast universe, we orbit:
at our own pace and space,
with grace and for solace,
determined to not stray;
we accept our
centre of
Gravity

---

Quite breathtaking, seeing this with your own eyes

19: Le Delabelling De La Belle

I once read a play
with characters real queer.
One of them couldn't stand labels,
she wishes they would all disappear.

She hates seeing labels so much that
she always peeled them off;
while I was learning this in Lit class
I couldn't help but laugh.

But then I stopped
when I realised something amiss,
because ever since I was a tot,
ridding labels gave me such bliss.

Labels don't bother me as much now,
and I wonder why this is so;
is it because I'm tired of unlabelling things,
and learnt to just accept status quo?