60: estranger

stranger
th/æ/n fiction,
stranger

th/ɛ/n reality,

stranger(,)
th/æ/(ɛ)/n everything
i thought i knew

(about you) is

fiction-worthy, th/ɛ/n

reality sinks in, th/æ/t

you
are

(/ə/) stranger.

- 8/12/12 2.37pm

stranger
th/æ/n fiction,

stranger
th/æ/n reality,

stranger
th/æ/n everything
i thought
i knew

is the sudden awareness that
you
are
(/ə/) stranger.

- 8/12/12, 2pm

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

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.

---

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

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?

18: In the name of development

On my way to Melawati today,
I looked to my left
and saw the once-beautiful trees, uprooted.

I looked at my mom who was driving
and asked her what had happened to the trees.
She said the roads couldn't accommodate
the number of drivers;
our roads needed to be widened,
it's part of development.

On my way back from Melawati,
I looked to my left
and saw the once-glorious hills, flattened.

I looked at the notice on the zinc wall
and read what had happened to the hills.
It said the lowlands couldn't accommodate
the number of families;
our houses needed to be multiplied,
it's part of development.

"LOOK!"

Mom suddenly said, interrupting my thoughts.
I turned to see what she had seen;
and saw the off-late stormy skies, clearing.

I looked at the fluffy white clouds
and the evening sun behind it, glowing summery shades.
It made me wonder: how much time
do we have left before
our heavens disappear,
in the name of development?

---




080312 @ 21:26

14: the thought of Death

Today,

i was

reminded that i

might die Tomorrow. i

wonder if i

have truly

Lived.

My teacher friend was discussing about the theme of death in her English class yesterday, and she asked her students to come up with a poem related to it. Me being the sad observer that I am, joined in just for fun... but now that I read this poem again, I do wonder. Hmm.

By the way, in case you were wondering what structure this is, it's a 16-word poem, structured like this:

1 word

2 words

3 words

4 words

3 words

2 words

1 word

13: Driven to sadness

It fell. It slipped out,
hitting the hard floor. Shock sets
in: death in my hands.

I just ruined my external hard drive because of my own carelessness. Just perfect.

12: My Four Seasons

Passion like summer heat,
Faith like spring flowers,
Thoughts like autumn decay,
Heart like winter showers.

I'll be completely honest: I'm pretty heartbroken right now. Returning to my home country has been quite eventful for me. Leaving my 3.5 'student life' years behind, ie. my memories, my loved ones, my independence, my freedom... yeah it's pretty hard. Although I've been enjoying the food and meeting my family and friends, a lot of things have been brewing in my mind... about love, life and everything in between. As soon as I touched down on that plane that night, I realise that I'm back in reality; my bubble has burst, and it's time to shake myself awake.

I have only been here for a few days, but I've felt a variety of emotions of various degrees. Essentially, I feel tired that my thoughts & philosophies are being challenged by the people I trust and cherish - not exactly in constructive/positive ways. I'm getting tired of the put-downs and the general dismissive/condescending attitudes that adults here have...

I've been told that I'm too idealistic about the world -- and this will ultimately lead to my disappointment in myself and society. I've been told that that's simply reality - things can't always turn out the way we hope/expect them to turn out, because that's not how the world works.

I've been told that I need to look good all the time -- I need to wear the right clothes, I need to not get fat/pimples/scars, I need to do my facial routines and makeups, I need to dress nicely even when I'm not going anywhere important/for long; I need to LOOK MY BEST ALL THE TIME. I've been told that this is important in (Malaysian) society, because people decide our worthiness by our appearance, and if you're not thin, you're not in.

I've been told that I don't know how life works, how the real world is, how things really are -- how, essentially, people are. I've been told I'll never 'get it' because of my upbringing, that I can never truly understand, that I've got it easy and I should be grateful and just accept the fact that everyone leads different lifestyles and there's absolutely nothing we can do about it.

I may seem naive for being idealistic, but at least I haven't given up on caring about society because I believe that many 'rotten apples' CAN still change; they've just not been given enough opportunities/support in their lives to improve. At the very least, I still have some faith in people and not judge people simply by my first impression.

I may look ugly for not having the 'ideal' face/body/skin, but at least I know that beauty on the outside is nothing compared to what's on the inside (and that's what I personally treasure more). At the very least, I know that it's cruel to psychologically cause people to feel frustrated and ashamed about the way they naturally look.

I may sound stupid for saying/questioning certain things despite the fact that I've never been able to experience the things that the people I talk about have to experience, but just because I didn't share their (mis)fortunes doesn't mean it's impossible for me to empathise with them, and doesn't mean I'm completely blinded by my own life. At the very least, I am willing to admit that I could be wrong and have a lot to learn.

I am not that brainless, worthless and tactless.

Sorry for the long ramble, but it's amazing how one week at home made me realise why I love&hate everything here. I guess, like Tennessee Williams notes:

'Memory takes a lot of poetic licence. It omits some details; others are exaggerated, according to the emotional value of the articles it touches, for memory is seated predominantly in the heart' - The Glass Menagerie.

8: The fallen trees

The chainsaw rumbles
as trees come tumbling down;
A part of me dies.

Translation

Gergaji mengaum

apabila pokok menyembah bumi;

Sebahagian diriku mati

I don't like the constructions going on my campus right now. It makes me sad seeing the trees get chopped off and the general green areas get levelled, some lecture rooms getting destroyed, all these walkways being closed off...  All this 'modernisation'... do we really need it? I mean, I like technology and all, but living in a concrete jungle all the time - it can't possibly be good for the mind, body and soul can it?


I miss walking around Canterbury University... now that's the closest place to heaven(ly campus) on earth.

5: Senyuman Si Suria

Senyum manismu
bawah cahya suria
Kuterpesona

Translation

Your sweet smile

under the rays of the sun

I'm spellbound

Dedicated to a certain someone: thank you for brightening up my life.

4: Music from the outside

Outside, I hear sounds
of crickets, birds and cars
Music to my ears

Translation

Di luar, kudengar

cengkerik, burung dan kereta

Irama merdu

3: The red scarf

The red scarf, dangling
untouched for the past few months --
It's too bright; not yet.

Translation

Skarf merah, tergantung

beberapa bulan tidak tersentuh

Terlalu cerah; tunggu dulu.

2: Senja negara orang

Waktu senja

bila ditempat asing

beza gelapnya.

Translation

Dusk
in a foreign land

has a different kind of darkness

Where I come from, the day gets dark around 7pm. Where I currently am (at least in this season) it gets dark around 8.30pm. In a different season however, it can get dark much earlier - sometimes around 5pm.

It never fails to amuse me how darkness creeps in at different times - and at different speeds - in different parts of the world. In some places, these depend on the time of the year; in other areas, it barely changes, if at all. It feels almost as if each place has its unique kind of darkness to me. Maybe I'm not making much sense, but oh well.