from the other side.

hi. i am dead. nice to meet you. most people would probably call me a ghost. i am, after all dead. but i don't really think of myself as one. you see, a year ago, i was very much alive. hitting the snooze button while waking up, running late for classes, opting for brunch to save money, goofing around with silly girlfriends. i was of a petite size, with a tan. my right eye was slightly narrower than my left, and i have had my share of zits and bad hair days. of course, now that i'm dead, it's really no use telling these, not that people can see me anyway.

i am like that of the wind. with no colour, no scent, and undoubtedly invisible to the naked eye. before i was dead, i always wondered what it feels like to be a ghost. now that i am one, i knew. it felt nothing. it's that void space you feel in your chest when you breathe, the silent cry in your heart when it's beating. the echoes of thoughts bouncing off in eerie darkness. total emptiness. like the chiming of a bell in an abandoned town. forgotten and isolated. like existence has never been a part of me. i was brushed off like a painting gone wrong. i am a blank canvas to the livings.

now and then, i would hang around them, the livings i mean. i would sometimes watch them performing their everyday routines while trying to grasp what little memories i have had of my past. but the people that i watch most often are the ones i knew when i was alive. when i wanted to, i can actually hear their thoughts - what terrifies my mum, why my neighbour woke up at exactly 0230 am for the past ten years, how my bestfriend fell in love with me but never found the courage to tell me so. i know everything i never knew before. they say that it can take a mere second to love someone but an eternity to forget them. looking at myself right now, i'm not quite sure what eternity means. not yet. all i know is if this is what eternity is, then i'd rather not know anyone. when you die, you get to see more stuffs than you can ever imagine even if you live to be a hundred years old. seeing is believing apparently. and if you only knew what i saw.

death loses all tracks of time. like those few seconds when you first wake up not knowing what day it was. only this one lasts more than a mere seconds. but being dead, i always take a look at the newspaper dates. its not like i have to buy them or anything. hey being dead has its bonuses. i would sometimes hold my mum's hand when she's knitting. or sit next to my dad when he's driving. yeah walking can be quite tiring. too bad a ghost can't drive a car. at night, i stood behind my bestfriend's chair while he's writing his diary. he hates blogging, said it removes all sorts of emotional values. beats me. he's a freak. a cute one who always complains about my unhealthy diet. i have only seen him cry once. at his twin's funeral last summer. even then he said it was the dust in his eyes. bloody testosterone. this would be the second time i witness those tears. the pages of his diary were soaked with them, each page with my names written all over them. i have stopped reading his diary since. or even going to his house and watch him sleep. can a ghost's heart ever get tired? mine did.

ghosts don't sleep by the way, in case you're wondering. but we do go back to our death scenes. and today is 'the day'. you see, on exactly the 23rd day of every month, we ghosts had to revisit the spot where our souls left our bodies. in my case, the roadside near the town border where i was hit-and-run by a car. none of us ghosts can fathom why we have to do this. i personally think that it was a way of 'them' to remind us of the last few moments when we were desperately clinging to our life, hope against hope that it wasn't our time yet. that the gruesome shadow was only passing us by, not welcoming us into its long clawing arms. yet when that moment came, that will be the times when you wish you'd stop smoking, that you'd listen to your mum and clean the bedroom, that you'd share your food with the beggar just now, that you'd pray at least five times a day. not enough. nothing is.

i was alive before. i was the epitome of life itself. embodied by laughter with all the scent and glitters of perfumes and hairspray. and today as i watched my bestfriend took away his own life with the help of a bottle of sleeping pills; it hits me that...

...living is better than dying. ironically, many knows that only after they're dead. and now he's walking towards me with that familiar dazed expression of his. oh how i missed that gentle coolness of his idiotic naivety. i stared at him and said,

"hey bloody moron, i love you too."

you and i; we are two people who are meant to be together, but never did.

romeo and juliet. laila and majnun. othello and desdemona. lancelot and guinevera. seth and maggie. jack and rose. sebastian and annette. nelson and sara. jamie and landon.

they never make it to their happily ever after.
but they did make history.

"not all joyous love will last, but all tragic love will last in hearts forever."

*****

society's current trend is marriage-and-divorce. funny because most of them spouses based their marriages on mutual love. marriage is said to be the infusion of two souls into one, the celebrated and joyous moment in one's life. it never said anything about being temporary and unlasting. now think about those lovers who never make it to that marriage phase. who had to let each other go for some reasons. who chose responsibility over love. who chose family over love. who chose life over love. i tell you, their love will last for eternity. because people always desire for things that they can't have. love is after all an irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired. irony. major irony. it's enough to make you want to dump your guy/girl and chose tragedy instead. hey, it'll last eternity man.

dude, i hate love.

karena mulut badan binasa.

assalamualaikum w.b.t.

buat julung2 kalinya (fx: drumrolls)...entry saya didominasi oleh bahasa melayu~! (fx: dam dam dum bunyik mercun). agaknye kalau mak saya celik IT mau nanges dia kerna akhirnya anak dia mendaulatkn bahasa ibunda yg berdekad2 dia pertahankn sbg seorang guru bhasa melayu. bukannye saya nk kate saya ni telah dipengaruhi oleh bahasa penjajah, tapi hakikatnye andai kata saya menulis dalam bhsa melayu spr hari ini, terasa spr saye berada di zaman P. Ramlee berlatar belakangkn kaler itam putih. iyer begitu skali effectnye para pembaca. ;)

tapi saya memilih untuk mggunakan bhsa melayu arini tak lain tak bukan karena saya merasakn bahawasanye dgn menggunakn bhsa melayu, mesej saya pada arini lebih jelas dan tak kabur2 lagi. ade feel orang kate..;

alkisah bermulanye saat saya mengabdikn diri kpd Allah SWT dgn bertarawikh, tetibe dirasakn semacam saje. dah beberapa malam lak tu. kiranya ade yg tak kena tarawikh ramadhan kali ini. dan tidak, tiada pula perasaan bahawa ini ramadhan terakhir saye (mintak dijauhkan). adapon kelainan itu setelah difikirkan secara waras berpunca drpd bacaan imam di masjid ini yg kepanjangan. maklumlah ini kali pertama saya bertarawikh di masjid kampung saya setelah bertahun2 sebab sblum ini saya duduk di rumah sewa di shah alam yg mana tok imamnya sgt understanding (dlm pikiran saya yg sedikit jahil kala itu la). terawikh di shah alam akn berakhir tak lebih dr jam 930 malam. surah pendek, so tak sempat la kirenye otak saya nk berjalan2 ke jualan mega di sogo mahupon facebook di rumah. baru nk panas enjin, imam dah bagi salam. mantap~!

tapi lain pula keadaannye di masjid kampung kesayangan saya ini. buat lapan rakaat je pun lam pukul seploh jugak abesnye. jgn kata sakit sendi, otak juga sakit pikir nk jalan mane lg. iyer dgn erti kate lain, tidak khusyuk la solat saye. dan dgn pikiran yg masih jahil itu saya pon menyalahkn imam (dlm ati je la) kerana bacaannya yg seakan tak berkesudahan itu. tp saya juga pelajar lulusan universiti, maka dgn otak yg sedikit bijak ini saya pon mula menyuarakn ketidakpuasan hati saya tnpa melihatkan kejahilan saya. maka bermulalah adegan bahas membahas antara saya dan ibu saya. betullah kata org tua2, jgn lawan ckp ibubapa. bukanlah kerana takut berdosa sgt, tapi mmg takkan menang...

saya: (dgn suara mendatar bg melihatkn kewarakan) imam masjid ni bace surah pnjang2 kan mak. kesian saya tgk org tua2 yg smbhyang kat sini. kalau kat shah alam dulu, imam dia bace surah pendek2 aje. kenapalah imam ni bace surah pnjang2? dia tak sian ke org lain ke?

mak: tiap2 tahun masjid ni mmg bace surah pnjang2 sbb dia nk khatam al-Quran bila abes ramadhan nanti.

saya: iye la tapi kalau dah smpai berjam2 penat org lain.

mak: yang tua2 tak larat tu kan boleh smbahyang duduk.

saya: mungkin dorg tak selesa. (masih tak mau mengalah)

***info ringkas: saya merupakan pemenang pembahas terbaik bahasa inggeris di daerah saya ketika bersekolah menengah)

mak: tuhan dah bg byk nikmat dekat manusia takkan nk tahan kejap pon tak boleh. yg korang duk shopping berjam2 tu tak penat pulak. tuhan tak berkira pon ngn kita masa Dia bg rezeki. dengan tuhan tak boleh berkira.

saya: (masuk bilik sbb tetiba rase nk tukar nama kt sijil pembahas terbaik bubuh nama mak)

hahah. mak memang champion bantering. dr kecik smpai besor, takde lagi adik beradik saya yg mampu membuat mak saya menguncikn mulutnye. mulut kami yg terkunci adalah. mak adalah big boss. satu je yg mak jd senyap. bila kami pakat gelak ramai2 kat bahasa melayu standard dia. kut iyepun ckgu bm, takkan la kt umah pon nk ckp cam dlm buku teks iye tak? antara dialog mak yg saya ingat...

situasi 1: traffic light rosak

kakak: aik, sejak bile traffic light ni rosak? ptg semalam elok jek.

mak: mengapa jadi begitu? (suara innocent)

kami: mengapa jadi begitu???(dengan suara menganjing) kah! kah! kah!

situasi 2: kete rosak so kene tggu along datang hntar kete lain

saya: along call ckp dia lambat sket sbb dia stop breakfast dulu kt restoren zaman (famous weyh kt kuantan!)

mak: dia tak tahu ke yang kita nak cepat?

saya: tak la kot. takde sape bitau dia.

mak: itulah masalahnya apabila dia tidak dimaklumkan bahawa kita ini tengah bergegas ke shah alam.

ayah: tidak dimaklumkan bahawa??

kami: kite dalam meeting mingguan kat sekolah rupenye skrg. (dan seperti biasa kami gelak kaw2 punye...;p)

itulah seingat2 saya cara nk diamkan mak. tu pon tak lame. sat lagi bising balik. agaknye mak-mak memang camni ek? setelah bertukar2 story ngn kwn2 serumah, kami mndapati perangai manusia yg brgelar mak/ ibu/ ummi/ mama dan seangkatannye ni mcm sifir la pulak. tak kesah la 2x5 ke, 20x50 ke, same aje. lantaran itu kami pon mula melakukn aktiviti lagha kami iaitu mentafsirkn keadaan kami bila bergelar ibu. mksudnye, skrg mmg la sporting abes, tgk wayang tgh malam, karaoke tgh malam, bangun tdo je tgh ari..hahah. tapi seploh tahun akan dtg, adekah kami akan mnjadi skema seperti mak-mak kami di kampung? huwargh..tak leh imagine amaliah minah techno (housemateku) marah anak dia main tenet duapulohpatjam. ataupon shopaholic syahirah (juge housemate) meleteri anaknye yg shopping sakan. mau saya rekod dan upload ke youtube. lalala~

apepun sesungguhnya saya mau mnjadi ibu yg sporting dan juga tegas. takut juga kalau dpt anak laki2 sbb saya pompuan. kang tak pasal2 bile dia moody, saya ingat dia datang bulan pulak. lagi haru saya pi ajar dia cara2 pakai tuala wanita. haish~ tapi anak pompuan pon ape kurangnye. kut2 la perangai dia pelik cam saya (housemates saya wat statement beramai2 bahawasanya saya org plg psycho mereka pernah jumpe dlm hidup. erm mungkin mereka tak jumpe ramai org dalam hidup mereka lagi). tapi andai kata benar perangai saya pelik, saya sangatlah tidak mau anak pompuan saya mcm saya. letih weyh nak layan. saya nk layan diri sendirik pon malas. wakaka!! mungkin saya lebih prefer seperti rancangan tv 'Gilmore Girls'. anak skema brsama ibu yg gila2. tapi jd ibu yg skema pun menarik juge. huhu.

anyway, itu serba sedikit saya share tentang mak saya dan saya. whether or not saya akan ikut jejak langkahnye sbgai mak skema masih kekal sbgai misteri. yang pasti moral of the story is, takyah la berangan nak lawan ngan mak sendirik, makan hati jawabnya. tepat menikam ke hulu jantung. kalau dah tau mak skema, takyah nak memandai mintak izin kuar malam2. lepas dia berletar seguni dua dalam sejam dua jam, dia akan kata "nehi, kabhi nehi~!" buat letih tadah telinga je. hasilnye...tetap tidak. adepun saya bermonolog ini, waktu akhirnya ketahuilah...saya sayang mak saya. baju raya tahun ni satu je ke mak? ^^;

blogger's note: at the end of the day, every single person you love would eventually hurt you. you just have to choose which ones worth hurting for.

darn if you do, darn if you don't.

Trophy (n.) - a prize, such as a gold or silver cup, which is given to the winner of a competition or race, and often returned after a year to be given to the winner of the competition in the following year.

sure, being a trophy may seem like an indulgence, but the downside of a trophy, albeit shiny and to die for, aren't easy to be maintained.

i was my parents' trophy. i was polished everyday. it was not a wrong thing to do. not at all. but at that tender age, i knew nothing of parenthood. so i took it the wrong way. being teachers, they wanted me to have the kind of education they never have had before. mum was an orphan, she fought her way to university as the eldest child. dad came from an underprivileged family with nine siblings. financial crisis was almost always a hindrance. they learned the hard way.

when i was seven, report cards were an anxiety. my parents put them under microscope, they analyzed and synthesized the content. i caught up pretty fast; lines of As equal to big grins, Bs means smiles, and others just a nod. i paved my way through middle school and somehow finished it with huge grins plastered all over their faces. i loved being a trophy.

secondary school was a bit of a flop for me. every time i did poorly in exams, mum wouldn't talk to people about it. she changed the subject immediately. the times when i did great, she couldn't stop gushing about it. i knew that i've to maintain my performance or else i won't be a trophy anymore. i'd get rusty and no amount of polishing would return my shine. when i was 15, i met my first fairytale. in fact, we're so fairytale it makes people sick. it didn't take long for mum to figure it out. her first question was not of his manners, definitely not of his personality, but none other than "what number did he get in exams?" yup, mum was dead serious when it comes to education.

now that i'm an adult, i began to see things the way she saw them. i lectured my sister about messy bedroom, scattered books, dirty laundry, and unworthy boyfriend. you see, it's not that she's a trophy to me; one that needs to be polished so that i won't have to return her the following year. definitely not. i'm just being...my mum. taking care of things that i believe she couldn't do so herself. but lately, i began to have doubt over that practice. perhaps i should let her make her own mistakes, giving her the chance to figure out the best way to live her life. the chance i never had. i never knew if the fairytale i had almost a decade ago would have worked out fine. i never knew if he was really a mistake. because i left him. because mum said he was a mistake. maybe he was. but even if he was, i think i would prefer to find that out by myself rather than having someone told me. so yeah maybe i'll let my sister live her own bloody life.

trophy or not, never let people define you by what you do. but rather define yourself by who you are. you'll be a lot happier. don't hold grudge over your mum, by the way. she only wanted to make you happy, which requires her to make a tough call once in a while. so live your life to make her happy, even if it means that you'll get bruises here and there. remember, she bruised more during labour. ;)

and the chutzpah award goes to.

my 2-year-old niece. who smoldered chocolate milk all over my favourite top. and tied it around her neck as a cape, believing it'll turn her into ultraman. you'd think superman would have been more believable. beats me.

she's finally became delusional. welcome to the family.

my niece, moments before she smashed the Canon onto the floor. it was never heard of again. or seen.

the truth is.

1. i don't joke. i am only impulsive. i have nothing against clowns though. except for the fact that they scared the shit out of me. other than that, i'm good.

2. lady gaga terrifies me.

3. i have, more than once, dreamed of marrying jude law. or maybe those were day-dreams. whatever.

4. i don't get why people are so gung-ho about vampires. the only vampire for me that carries the true epitome of superior is tom cruise's lestad. vampires burnt in sunlight (cool!). they don't glitter, edward (duh!).

5. bantering is an ultimate euphoric drug for me. it's an addiction.

6. i want to bungee-jump once before i die. once is enough to brag to my spoiled grandkids.

7. chewing gums disgusts me. it leads to disgusting practice of leaving gums under the chairs. and how the hell would it cleanse your mouth when you just swallow the bacteria with your saliva. beats me.

8. i am a narcissist.

a woman. i am.

we are complicated. we are demanding. and most of the time, we have no idea what we want, and so we left it for you to figure it out for us. sometimes, or rather seldom, we do know what we want, but then we changed our mind like five seconds later, and changed it back the next five, and so on. see, we are indecisive people. but that's only because there are hundreds of thousands of things that we want in life, so much so that we don't even know what we really want out of those numbers. there would also be times when we get confused between things that we want and things that we need. i mean are prada shoes a desire or need? on the surface, it might seem like we simply want it to satisfy our addiction of walking in public wearing the most sought after pair of shoes. but if you look between the heels (read: shopaholic version of reading between the lines) you might be able to see the essential of owning the shoes, as essential as having water sources on the earth. you see, we need the shoes to boost our self-esteem, we need them to assert self-control of our surrounding, we need them to remind ourselves that even if our boss is an asshole, our boyfriend cheated on us, we still have one thing to hold on to - the prada shoes. i mean it's a jungle out there. you can't expect them to let you set up a tent and rest. you have to defend that tent, build traps, and use fireguns if you have to. in a nutshell, we might just need the shoes more than we want them, right?

we also said things we don't mean. you do too, but we did it as a habit. means we did it thousand times more frequent than you do. we're borne with it, with this tendency to say things the opposite of what we really mean. i'm also clueless as to how this habit started to reside in us, it's like it's hereditary, genetics or something. we women passed this tradition from civilisations ago, and it's still strong as ever. like a silent vow that cannot be broken. so when you asked stupid things like, "are you mad at me?" and was answered by "no" or "of course not", all you have to do is to break down the code into the opposite, which says "the hell i am, you bloody bastard". but of course, this is just an example of the most common scenarios between a clueless man and his anger-suppresive girlfriend. but under some odd circumstances, there are times when a "no" really means no. for instance, "can i smoke in here?" and her "no" most undoubtedly means no. i know it's quite tricky, isn't it? but don't worry, as time goes by, you just might be able to differentiate between the artificial "no" and the realistic "no". practice makes perfect. you can start by dissecting the replies you got from your family members, like sisters or mother. when you have built your confidence level, you can move on to your girlfriend. get the picture?

most of all, we prefer to be your last love than your first love. it's always nice to be your first love, but it's better to be your last. we would not give a damn of who your first love really is, or how magnificent and truly worshippable she is. all we care about is the fact that you chose to love us the last, means you're giving us the privilege of growing old with you, of bickering and fighting and then making up everyday for the rest of your life, to raise a family together and to be the one that when people asked, you would refer us as "my wife". that's all that matters for us. really. see how different you are with us? it means the world to you to be our first love. because no woman, i mean not one of us women ever forget our first love. it might fade away for some but never really went away. it stayed. permanently, like writings engraved on tombstone. people might not go to graveyards often, but their loved ones were never forgotten. so we do get why being our first love is damn important to you. you get to be a part of our lives for as long as we live. no matter how painful that would be for us. but honestly, we much prefer to be your last love. so when you have us by your side, and you want to keep it that way, please try your very best, the best that you can possibly do, to refrain from talking about your exes. try focusing on the present and you just might not lose us. or easier, don't talk about other women at all when you're with us, not even our sister or our best friend, let alone your friends who happened to be a woman. talking is one thing, complimenting is another. nope, that wouldn't do as well. we're hypersensitive, we're delusional, and we have insecure issues. but hey don't blame us, you guys are allowed to have four of us legally, and we...well we're not. so yeah that's pretty much covered the jealousy issue we have as well. we are actually very sensible creatures, once you decipher us accurately. and meticulously. and patiently.

amidst knowing all these, believe it or not, you'll fall in love with us nonetheless. because having us around to fight with, is bearable than not having us at all. and vice versa. so just fall in love, because everyone has equal chance to be miserable, if they want to. brace yourself to embrace us. you probably wind up happier than being alone. and for the miserable part, it comes with the package. ^^;