Friday, August 19, 2011

The Long Ride Home


He walks onto the bus, already filled with people bustling in their seats, trying to be comfortable. He takes a look at his ticket, identifies his seat number and finds his seat. He places his bag under the seat, leans back and takes a deep breath. Closing his eyes, tired, and nervous. He patiently waits for the conductor to check passenger tickets.

"Ticket please."

He takes out his ticket from his shirt pocket and passes it to the conductor. After a few minutes, the conductor was done and the bus gets ready to leave. He looks out the rain soaked window, as the cold mist descends on the concrete jungle of tinted glasses and billboards and logos and ads. He focuses on one particular building. Faded white with a hint of yellowish white, indicating the building is already a few years old.

Slowly he watches the scenic view of the now moving world. Changing bit by bit. As concrete began to look green, the sky clearer, realizing that the changes he was seeing meant that he was getting closer.

Tired, he falls asleep, and dreams of the the warm touch on his chest, the warm breath on his face, the soft breathing of the muse, the lady in flowers, the lady in bright colors, the sundress. He wakes up as the bus rattled strongly from braking. He is dazed, between sleeping and being awake, between the warm touch of the flower lady, and the cold air conditioning in the bus. After a few minutes, he falls asleep again, smiling, and she comes to him, in his dreams. And she tells him all the tales in the world, she tells him stories of love and hate, war and peace, heart and mind, body and soul, and then she kisses him. Blowing sweet nothings into his ears. Telling him, convincing him, of everything.

He wakes up to the sound of bus driver shouting, trying to wake passengers up. A bit annoyed he moves his body sideways, and covers his ears, not wanting to listen to the noise, wanting to go to dreamland and be sung.

So he stays, in that middle ground between there and here. Where he wants her to be but she isnt. So he waits, with only the feel of the warmth of her hand on his cheek. And that is enough for now,to make him sleep.

He wakes up, takes a look at his watch and looks outside. The pitch black dark night outside illuminated by the odd light pole. He recognizes the surroundings. As he walked to the bus driver wanting to be let down to the side of the road. And as he walks down the bus, he walks towards the house. Slowly, nervously, eagerly, wanting to see the girl of his dreams.

Monday, August 15, 2011

In the name of Allah...


Ya Allah,
cukupkanlah kami dengan nikmatMu, agar kami tidak meminta selain dariMu,
berilah kami syurga, tunjukkan kami jalan ke sana,
ampunkanlah kami, kami berdosa,
jauhkanlah kami dari bahaya, bala, tipu daya khianat manusia.

Ya Allah,
ceriakanlah cinta ini, biar sampai syurga.


Amin.  

Wednesday, August 3, 2011

Monologue


There were little jumps to her steps, as she skipped towards her husband after realizing she had been left behind. A few minutes before her eyes were glued to the item on display in the window of a shop in the enormously vacant shopping mall we had been circling the last two hour. Her eyes round and sure-shot at the thing, amazed, unsure, uncertain, unknowingly. As she turned to her husband wanting to ask for clarification, she turn terrified realizing he wasnt there, and then relieved as she saw him a few paces away.

There were little jumps to her steps as she skipped towards her husband after realizing she had been left behind. She grabbed his large arms and rested her cheeks gently on his arms. Smiling. And he, well he was just relishing the moment.

"What were you looking at?"
"That thing in the window....." her voice trailing uninterested with the conversation.

Interested only in the moment she is in. Sheer bliss. Her husband breath aloud, realizing the typicality of the situation. It was often that her thirst for an explanation were to be satisfied, and his well, left to be figured out like little puzzles. Which was fine with him. He loved puzzles. The little guesses and signals that most people miss, well he uses them like little pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. Making the big picture clear to him way before anyone even has a clue. The husband, the big giant, walked slowly, not wanting to pace that extra step his wife might not be able to catch up to. She was in La-la land. It was him and it was always him. And now she had him entirely.

"Lunch?" he said smiling
"Awak nak makan aper?" she said
"Ntah, makan aper pun takper kot."
"Ok, jom."
"Jom pegi maner?"
"Makanlah, tadi kata nak makan."
"Yer lah tapi nak makan aper."
"Ntah, makan aper pun takper kot."

The husband face frowned as she repeated his exact words. She smiled almost laughing.

As they sat at the 1901 hotdog vendor she began telling him stories from work. On and on and on she went as he from time to time asked question to figure out more. As she was finished with her story, like always, she would ask:-

"paham tak, paham tak?"

Always, like he had a hard time understanding her. He laughed at the idea. She was treating him like he was 6 and he was fine with that. Her face frowned as she repeated:-

"Awak paham tak ni?"
"Yer paham sayang... adoiyai."

She smiled. Satisfied she got her husband to listen. After lunch they walked towards the cinema to catch their third movie of the day. Yes, third. Thats not a typo, it was their third movie of the day.

As she stood at the confection stand, he slid his hand to his mobile phone, 16 missed calls, he pressed on it to see the numbers that had call him, mostly unknown numbers, and some of his friends and his brother. He ignored it and turned of his phone, he has very little time with his wife and he wasnt going to spend it answering the phone.

They walked into the cinema, and as usual, without fail, somehow the husband turns into a, well for lack of better terms "kaunter pertanyaan".

Thus began the barrage of questions.

"why macam tu?"
"Kenapa orang baik tu buat macam tu? ke dia orang jahat?"
"Lepas ni apa jadi ek?" <---- her favorite question.
"Eeii kenapa the face like that?" frowning

On and on she went as he held her tight, answered every question while occasionally saying to her:-

"Saya rasa kita start tengok movie ni sama-sama kot, kalau awak taktau, saya pun taktau kot."
"Yer lah tapi awak kan pandai teka, awak selalu teka betul." She said insisting she was right.

When the movie ends. They walk towards the car as she stops to pay the parking ticket, and walks to car to pick her up. In the car, there was silence or the occasional "follow up questions" to the movie. Such as:-

"Tak paham la citer tu, kenapa pulak hero dia kena mati?"
"Why color kena pelik pelik macam tu, takleh bagi colorful ke?"

while he answered ranging from the literary details of the story to answers like:-

"Memang lah movie director tu memang macam awak suka benda colorful so citer hantu pun jadi colorful jugak." he said laughing.

As they got home. She changes, he changes. She has the long bath, he does his prayers, sit on his bed and picks up a comic book. As she changes and prays and cuddles right under his armpit.

"Eiii tak busuk ke?"
"Busuk, tapi saya suka hehehe."

He laughs, puts down the comic book and turns off the light. He turns to his wife, kisses her on the forehead and says:-

"I love you budak kecik"

she blinks a few times and says:-

"Does that mean i have to call you budak besar?"
"Hehe I love you too."

Then, with a deep breath, he falls asleep. Tomorrow though, he will be 300km away. And everything will seem like a dream. Sometimes though, he thinks to himself, he prefers it that way, so it will always remain perfect, like a dream.