Everything

Now, how do I begin? Before everything else, ‘adrift’ defines our journey in Japan the best. We experienced weird cluelessness, de trop disorientation, and several occasions of losing Google map’s bearing (on serious note, couldn’t even identify south, north, east, and west) and very poor estimation of the distance – despite those wonderstruck moments we ever had. We looked, listened, and observed our surroundings carefully, enthusiastically. Gladly, we made till the end even with a serious incident happened in Osaka. Afterall, our Japan trip was full of stories and surprises. After several discussions and fixing of flight, accommodation, internal transports, itinerary, petty and critical stuffs, Kuncup, Leen and myself were ready to go. I had the humongous nervous so dubiously, I packed and repacked my clothes at least more than five times. My friend, Izzati who went to Japan umpteenth, besides lent some gears also gave me an advice, “You don’t need the whole wardrobe to b...

With five posts this month and now writing the sixth, my youngest sister questioned the state of my mind and feelings. To her, I only write here when I am at wits' end, in a cul de sac and never when I am happy. I am not sure whether it is true because indeed, some anecdotes were written intensely with a little teary. But I also believe that everything in life is writable when your imaginations have the guts to improvise, so do experiences attached to you and even without these, your daily routines can be as interesting as hedonic journals. It is your writing. You have all the choices. This favourite youngest sister is talented at ensuring myself to be at my best condition, although sometimes she's worried more than my mother. Now that she is graduating, I cannot believe she is approaching adulthood soon. She has expectations of what this working world will offer and I want her to learn every steps she's going to take. I can guarantee, she will be doing just fine. 1...

Yesterday almost passed like the usual days, but I'm glad it didn’t. I was so tired the moment I reached home from work, I wished to skip my tuition class but Khalid came to me with a wide smile, “Can you help me with something, Kakngah?” I tried my best to dismiss the aching ague of a tired body and instead promised to help with his essay. I rushed to shower and hoped to call the day off very soon. Once done, I sat with Khalid at his favourite table, noticed he has already begun. “Your friend wants some tips on how to prepare for his coming examination. Write him a letter advising him at least three things he needs to do in order to do well. Write your answer between 50 to 80 words.” I carefully read the address, date, sentence structure, spelling, grammar just to identify if there was any mistake on that piece of paper. I identified some and asked him to immediately correct them. Khalid didn't protest like yesternights and nebulously did what I asked. Khalid ...

Is there ever a day other than feeling exhausted? All I feel like doing after work is sleep. But instead of fulfilling what my brain wants, here I am writing. Yesterday before bed, I wrote a beautiful poem about my life in its discipline, a prison. But sorry, I rather not share it here. I noticed that I’ve been writing a lot these days. Nothing really matters but myself and my writing. As I started this blog when I was in first year at university, this has been recognized as a live journal and keeping this for closely eight years now – I easily notice the patterns of my writing. I am growing wiser. I grew my confidence in writing too, so confident I submitted my manuscript, CARI, to Fixi publication in 2015 which later published online at their Wattpad. To be honest, I am not sure whether CARI is a success so there is no point to brag about it. I have other two manuscripts on my desktop – pending motivation and inspiration so they have been procrastinated for more than two months...

Malaysians maybe have finally resolved determinations to prioritise our tanah tumpah darah before pinning the colourful thumbtacks on the enchanting Europe map. I noticed the trend from TV initiatives that have snowballed circa last year. Some rural districts for instance have been commercially invested not ruining the natural beauty of the places but instead, making them more Instagram worth and worthy experiences. We have little flat space of island and mostly steep, the unforgiving hills, small colourful towns with recognitions of races, big city promising wonderful vista of skyscrapers, beautiful quiet beach, calming lake, forest with all home remedies available and many more. Looking at the credits at the end of all programs, I do think people behind the scenes deserve rounds of applause for the commitments to put Malaysia on the map. It is astounding now that the tourists do not get confused with the location of Malaysia which had been said in Singapore; vise versa....

I yesterday drove my niece from tuition to home. It was almost 8.00pm. At one junction in Kota Damansara, she saw some labours assembling at an entrance of construction site. She asked, “What are they doing?” I took a glimpse but couldn’t see clear enough if there was an accident causing these people to amass. About 20m ahead, I stopped my car. I noticed that all of them outside the gate were not wearing safety helmets nor the safety boots. I wasn’t sure what they were up to. We waited not long enough to know what exactly was happening. A few minutes later, the gate was opened and a man with safety helmet, boots and striking lime safety vest walked out. These people began to shout and cry. It was chaotic. I later could listen to a very loud voice from the man with striking lime vest answering these people’s scream, “Sepuluh sahaja!” (“Ten only!”) before these men running into the gate desperately like it was a fierce competition. The ten who made it were lucky, and the man wi...

I'm back. Last week, I visited a hospitalized old auntie, regardless having zilch idea who she was but climbed up the ward stairs nonetheless for the sake of common courtesy. That old auntie was warded due to chronic shaking after several times of attempt to injure herself. The son told us that his mother thought she was still in her 20s and that day when she saw her face in the mirror, she went tantrum. I wasn't sure that time if the hospital could do anything to convince her that the gray-haired she sees in the mirror is no one but herself. I wasn't sure too if amnesia could be treated. I stood there ironically feeling rather blissful to listen to her witty talk trying to flirt with my friend in her 20s sway. She spoke slowly and soft with a peculiar enunciation but never forgot to insert titter each time my friend replied to her. She didn't see anyone else in the room but my friend. She seemed to be on her heels and she liked my friend so much. Until...