Sound like a sound idea?

It's raya everyone!

But I am here in front of this computer because I'm trying to complete an assignment from my supervisor. It's the paper that I've told you before. I did manage to complete it before raya leave on Friday (yeay! *pat self on the back*). But I should have known that my super-efficient supervisor would finish it by Sunday and message me to tell that she had mailed the correction and I should do it ASAP (she even include a friendly reminder that I should not just eat during raya coz then I'll get fat (fatter than I already am?) and that I should dedicate those precious hours to work instead. I responded that I'll keep that advice in mind while eating at the raya open house buffet :p)

So I am here now. For two hours already, but only managed minor corrections. Where's my scientific muse? I suspect that even muses have to go holiday sometimes. My mind feels like it's on some kind of controlled substance because I feel like my head is softly lolling on waves. I suspect that it's because of the lack of sleep plus the natural excitement of preparing for raya. Yesterday the whole family spring cleaned the house until 3.00 a.m. Then we woke at 4.30 a.m for the last Ramadhan sahur for this year. Then after subuh prayers I took a moment to get a little shut-eye but it was interrupted in half hour intervals because I asked mom and dad to wake me up before 7.30 am. I had an appointment to help a friend to drive her to the bus station that morning. I didn't want to be the reason she did not get on that bus toward her family for Raya, I could be hated for that. If ever I was late then I suspect that no amount of cheery Raya greetings and request for forgiveness would be entertained.

Then after I got back from the bus station I decided against sleeping to just try finish a bit of the journal because when will there be a other time? Now's perfect because today supposed to be our cooking day but it'd start late because of the overtime yesterday and continue until the wee hours of the morning so that we're all sporting panda eyes during Eid. My mom went out with my brother to settle some errands and my sisters are all still sleeping (cis, sedap tido) so this leaves me alone to do the right thing: working on that paper and not updating my blog with pointless babbles.

Tapi, ya Allah, mengantuknya!

...

Self-imposed deadline: Friday.

I promise to do it on the 3rd raya.

...Or maybe its better I look at the journal after 2nd raya?

Ok, maybe I'll try to fit it in on 1st raya.

Hmm..how about after cooking rendang, sate, ketupat, kuah kacang, nasi impit, sambal udang, serunding ikan bilis, carrot cake, pavlova and choc chip cookies?

Maybe the best option for me now is just to sleep and then try do it today.

Or a little bit everyday until it's finished?

Sounds like a sound idea.

Let us just see what happens by Friday, ok? ;)

A compendium of Babbles

Let's just talk. Let's see where this takes us.

So this week I've been busy, going for iftar gatherings with friends 3 nights in a row, all with different people. Even though I enjoyed myself immensely, I still caught myself wishing I can be with the family at the same time. But we can only be at one place at a time. Maybe, that is just as well because it's greedy to want to have everything all at the same time.

***

In one of the iftar outings, I accidentally revealed the mystery person in my mind. I never meant for anyone to know. Oh well. But, in a way, it's a relief having someone know. Even though it may be a hopeless prayer (notice how I am still hoping? silly me).

***

I have more time now at the lab. It feels like I've been laid off, systematically erased from the system because I opted not to join the show for next season. I still have some work to do but because all of it involves paper work and reading journals, I am still unable to switch modes from post-thesis mode to productivity mode. Guess I gotta get myself straighten up and get it done before Raya leave. Kan bagus kalau aku ni seorang yang sangat berdisiplin dalam bekerja? Then maybe I would've filled the 100 empty pockets of time I created in my days with beneficial things. This lag-phase has went on too long, need to re-focus!

***

Travel has been constantly in my mind. Me and my friends were supposed to go to Krabi after raya. It was a spontaneous decision and all of us were excited by it. But we just found out that it was going to be the rainy season. I think it's funny that we would be going to the beach while its raining, but sometimes I don't particularly care. It even rains in paradise. The important thing is the company and the experience afforded by the trip. And who knows, maybe it'd be a blessing in disguise. I can't wait to go! I've grown tired of being jealous of all the places all other people have been. I want to go too, why can't I go? So I'm hoping that this would be the first of many travels to come :)

***

I think I ought to save up for a camera.

***

The other day I went through my posts. I noticed that I've been having love issues since forever. I'm hoping this dry spell to be over but I do know that I'll prepare myself just in case another sandstorm decide to come instead the blessed fall of rain.

***

Just a thought, but I think that people who don't bother shouldn't be made to involve in anything, in everything. Especially love. Your apathy disgusts me.

***

And I wonder, can addiction be self-treated? Self-healed. It is after all, a disease of the mind.

***

Ok, going back to the iftar again. During the iftar today, surrounded by all the loving couples with their cute babies in their arms, one of the single guys remarked (almost to himself), "eh, macam best je". Then I asked him, "apa yang best?" He answered, "semua ni la, macam best aje" while gesturing to the scene of young mommies holding their babies while discussing baby-related escapades and the young daddies all sitting around looking all fatherly. I think it's hilarious that he just realized how much that the singles are missing (me included). He didn't know?

I've known it for the longest time.

***

Whatever it is, I just got to say this: To my sis and paliy, and to my friends: thank you for sharing your little bundle of joy and shining a little sunlight in our hearts! :)

The End.

Light upon light

"I am constantly being asked what this or that means in my films. It’s unbearable! An artist does not have to be accountable for his intentions. I did not do any deep thinking about my work. I don’t know what my symbols mean. I only desire to induce feelings, any feelings, in viewers. People always try to find “hidden” meanings in my films. But wouldn’t it be strange to make a film while striving to hide one’s thoughts? My images do not signify anything beyond what they are… We do not know ourselves that well: sometimes we express forces which cannot be grasped by any ordinary measure."

~ Andrei Tarkovsky

I always wonder about this. I wonder how the artist shape their masterpieces to convey a meaning. Must there be a reason for everything? A reason for a dot there, a line here. Colors everywhere, black and white just sprinkled here and there. It's just that I think it would be a heavy task for a person to engineer his/her work to really represent the idea in its purest form.

Does the symbolism encompass everything?

It would be tiring to always second guess yourself, wondering if ever your interpretation is true to what the artist meant. And a satisfying answer doesn't exist. Maybe in this sense I am a generalist (a contrast to my usually detailed self). I look at a work of art as a whole; the meaning for me is formed by the symphony of all components coming together.

I don't usually regard the elements individually. The significance of an art piece, a song or a story is based on my experiences, my personal views and even my feelings at that moment. I look at it and it either speaks to me or it doesn't. It is overwhelming to analyse everything, seriously. I just can't deal with the uncertainty, I guess. Or it is just my inadequacy. I regard as sheer genius for an artist to carefully consider every layer of meaning, every possible angle of interpretation to take the observer to share a glimpse of their inspiration. The creative process is a complex maze of making sense of everything that plays in the artist's mind and heart.

It is the same with writers. The way they play their words is powerful and wonderful to behold. They could move nations to revolt, the oppressed to rise and the sad to be joyous again. Maybe it's true that the heart has many strings and these artists and writers just know how to play the right notes.

Maybe, precisely for these reasons the Quran is so lyrically majestic and that its lessons have to be done with hikmah. It has so many layers of meaning that even after hundreds of years scholars have not finished analyzing it. The Quran has to be learned from a teacher as interpretations vary between individuals. Teaching with hikmah means that even the lessons have to be tailored according to the audience: not altering the essence of meaning but rather customizing the lessons according to what could be accepted by the individual's level of thinking. This is why the demand for knowledge is of utmost importance in Islam. When our knowledge increases, what becomes clear to us is not visible to those who do not know. We slowly begin to appreciate the layers of meaning so intricately beautiful and hidden like the petals of a rose.

As stated here in the Quran, Allah guides to His light whom He wills.

Allah is the Light of the heavens and the earth. The example of His light is like a niche within which is a lamp, the lamp is within glass, the glass as if it were a pearly [white] star lit from [the oil of] a blessed olive tree, neither of the east nor of the west, whose oil would almost glow even if untouched by fire. Light upon light. Allah guides to His light whom He wills. And Allah presents examples for the people, and Allah is Knowing of all things.

An Nur (24:35)

Only with clarity provided with knowledge that the true meaning of anything could be understood. Only then could we be enlightened. Reflect on these words:

“Everyone sees the unseen in proportion to the clarity of his heart, and that depends upon how much he has polished it. Whoever has polished it more sees more - more unseen forms become manifest to him."

~Rumi

Therefore, the pressing issue now is to increase our knowledge to attain the highest pinnacle of understanding. The first step is easy and already revealed to us: Iqra'.

Black Maria

"When will I stop putting these thoughts into words, praising love that never once cared for the praise I pledge? I should stop myself whenever I feel those words forming in my mouth, threatening to fill over my lips," I vowed to myself a hundred times over.

I stared again at the mirror. The cheap makeup could really conceal everything, especially under these dim orange lights. I moved my hand to shake the ash off my last cigarette, putting them into a little can that I modified to double up as an ashtray. I made a mental note to empty the ashes when I come here again tomorrow, it's full and its stale smell is beginning to get to me. It's a habit of mine to blame the ashes, even though I know full well that smoking in a closed room is what makes the room so stifling. But the smoke is the only one thing keeping me going. I can't let go of that.

Then I sunk onto the chair again. I checked my blouse. This should be alright. But it makes me think of red roses, something that I would dearly want to forget. But whatever it is, I think if he comes tonight he would appreciate the contrast of my yellow skin against the dark red.

My thoughts trailed again as I remembered that roses symbolizes passionate love. I don't know whether it'd qualify to symbolize my love: a thing so resilient that it'd come back afresh to haunt me whenever hope dares to flicker through. I suspect that the people I've given a rose to didn't understand the significance of the gift. They think me mad for giving them a rose; they always have a look of surprise in their faces and confusion in their eyes. I gave it to them anyway. But I never bother to cut out the thorns, as I bled while giving it to them I thought that they might as well bleed with me. Yes, it's a cheap shot: a bitter revenge by someone who's always at the losing end.

I checked the time on the old clock, and the hands are showing 10.00 o'clock. I feel like lingering for a while, savouring the stillness of the night. I went to the window and peeked, checking whether there is anyone on the streets. There is no one. I sat again in front of the dressing table, toying with the hair brush. The all around silence is both comforting and companionable.

Which reminds me, roses also symbolizes silence.

It is so fitting. Love and silence often come hand in hand. There is no need for bright neon lights and trumpeting noise to announce your love. If you mix love with noise, for me it becomes too commercialized, plasticized. No room for the real thing. You can't rush things like love or try to understand it. It either happens or it doesn't. It is either there or it is absent. You have to be one of those lucky ones to have it, and exceptionally blessed to have another person to reciprocate. If you are one of the unlucky ones, I'm sorry I have to break it to you but maybe you're condemned to hold your heart alone forever. This realization is almost always the pin that burst everyone’s bubble: the possibility that love can be selective on whom it chooses to grace with its presence. Call it what you want; luck, fate, or destiny. I’m done blaming things that are out of my control. It doesn’t seem fair to indulge in the blame game when in my heart I realize it is not that big of a deal.

Seriously, it isn’t. The fact is that not everyone is sprinkled with fairy dust. The ones who aren’t probably won’t need it in that way anyway. Love is not bounded with just one form but rather it could manifest in each of our lives in different ways. Sometimes it is too subtle to notice that the void is felt only after it is gone. Actually what we all need is time because love is already there. Not in the way you may want it to be, but it is there.

Yeah, probably I should drag myself out of this abyss of self pity and be thankful for a change for the time I’ve been given. But this may be only my idealist side coming into play. I like to lull myself like that sometimes, I allow my self to be swayed by flimsy hopes only to be brought down again by reality. This time it was the soft rustling at the door. Then I saw what I expected: a yellow note folded neatly in two, slipped into my room beneath the door. I waited until the shadow at the door to move away as I inched toward the note.

"Cancelled"

Just like that. Actually I was expecting more.

Well, I'm always expecting more. Stupid note. Oh well. I should be going on then. No use wasting more of my time here. I'll come by tomorrow.

About Tentang (pun intended)

This is a review on a book written in Malay that is dotted sparingly with English. I imagine that if the book is translated then it'd be an English book dotted sparingly with Malay. That's strange.

But, this shouldn't be shrugged off as an impossibility: many authors have had their works translated, right?

Moreover, this review would be in English. Haha. But hey, maybe using a different language would lead to a pool of audience that is different from the Malay reviews. (I hope).

As evidenced by this nonsensical introduction, I bet that you'd guess by now that my experience reviewing books are at the minimal level. Before this, I've attempted to review Travelog Haji: Mengubah Sempadan Iman by Prof Muhd Kamil Ibrahim. I even did 2 posts about it here and here before I surrendered here. So much for high hopes for self, eh? But reading those posts again made me question, are those actually reviews? Oh, well. That is besides the point, if they aren't then just consider this attempt as the first.

.

.

.

Title: Tentang

Year: 2011

Author: Saharil Hasrin Sanin

Publisher: Sindiket Sol-Jah

So here goes:

Before anything, the first thing you'd notice is the cover. Maybe it's purposely chosen to grab attention but it can also mean that you can expect the text to be similar with the cover: strange, familiar but only could be contemplated in the mind as words would fail you.

I feel like that sometimes while working my way through the book. I have the habit of reading multiple books in one go and this book makes it easier because after a story I could just stop awhile and then restart where I left off. I was not left hanging, anticipating the next story because one thing you'd learn is that you should expect the unexpected.

Sometimes after finishing a story, I felt a strange aftertaste and I'd look around like I was caught red-handed spying on someone else's life. While reading, a movie would play based on the narrator's text. Or in another instance, you'd imagine a friend, or a stranger on a train telling you his story like its nobody's business. And you, the attentive listener, is just content to stay and listen.

Sometimes, after a story, I fell silent. I think many would identify with many elements played. The honesty of the human perception is evident here. Emotions like melancholy, exhilaration, anticipation, frustration, hope, helplessness and other colors of the heart are manipulated like an elaborate puppet show to illustrate a story or to drive home a point. How it affects me and you would be different.

Everybody says (including the author himself) that the stories possess multiple layers of meaning. I reckon it is like the movie Inception: a dream within a dream. Whether you identify which layer of dream you are in is irrelevant because what you recognize and identify would be real to you. Whatever manifest itself as having significance to you is what is important: all the other layers become immaterial. You are in your own reality. You now have an option to be content with what you understand or to dive deeper.

...Taking a lesson from the movie, I hope you don't fall into limbo ;)

So if you are thinking whether buying this book would be worth it, I'd suggest you read the numerous reviews of Tentang and its twin, Kentang that is filled with praise for the book and author.

To date there's no serious criticism of the book (and if any of you dare, you'd be buried by his legion of die hard fans). The only thing for me is that I am not really into some of the supershort stories because it left too much space bare. I like my books to be filled with words.

But that's about it. I don't particularly care about the typos (deliberate or otherwise) as I feel that's just keeping it real. I already know (from the experience of writing my thesis) that even after a hundred revisions by a hundred eyes: perfection is hard to attain.

So if you're considering a book to buy, pick a wildcard and choose this one :)

The breaking up speech

If my car is my boyfriend, I think he's breaking up with me.

"I've been with you since 2006, I've never failed you in any way. I've taken you to places you have never been, I have never put my interest before you. You remember how I've been with you, took you to fight your battles all because you're chasing opportunities and nursing a scarred sense of dignity when all others left you alone? You remember how I let you cry in the car when the cosmos just seem to be against you in every way? And don't forget how I endured your bad karaoke-like singing everyday when you're alone in the car to work?

And all of that for what?

Ok, I admit. You took care of my batteries brilliantly. You even have a bottle of battery water handy in case you have to top it off. And thanks for the tyres, I know all four of them are shining brand new. But this was all because our past arguments have been about you not caring to look at the battery water levels and I got fed up. The tyres were also because you used the previous ones until they're bald but still I marched on until one rainy day when the tyres can't take it anymore and they died at the side of the road, a motorist wearing a raincoat signalling that I was running flat.

Oh, thank you for finally learning to change my tyres. I fell in love with you again for that.

But now other things are becoming important. I can't help demanding these things if commitment is what you want.

You have never even bothered to check my oil levels, you just left that responsibility to the one servicing me. You never knew the basics of car maintenance: apart from the batteries, you should also check the water levels in the car radiator. I know you asked but you shouldn't be so naive as to expect they teach you the whole syllabus of Car Maintenance 101!

The driver window is already broken but you found a way around it by procuring a Smart Tag, so the necessity to fix the windows are demoted to a lesser priority. My coat is also chipped and ugly everywhere. Running beside a shiny car makes me feel like I'm wearing rags. You don't know the feeling!

But now it is too late. I'm paying you back, with Blu Cantrell singing "Hit em up style" in the background. I'll probably make up with you in a week, but I hope you are not the same person that I left. You have to understand me for a change!"

And with that, Pajero left. I was at the brink of tears when I saw them opening you up, doing all sorts of things I don't understand. I felt like wailing my heart out when I heard their estimate. I think they saw it in my face, because they politely stood out of the way after that for me to call Mom. I felt ill, like vomiting when I had to describe what Pajero had done to me. Mom came, took my zombie-like self as I tried to come to terms to the chain of events that were anticipated to follow.

Pajero, forgive me.

Take me back, please?

A cautionary time

Have you ever eaten sand?

Not little bits of sand that was leftover from inadequate washing of vegetables, but a mouthful of dry fine sand. It creates a painful lump in the throat. I could imagine the noise that the little grains would make as it resounds in the head. It would be difficult to swallow, definitely. That's probably due to the dryness of the sand. That is how the sensation felt like when I was told the news.

Have you ever noticed how the colors seem to fade and with it all reality slipped into a vacuum?

Nothing matters anymore when beauty is lost. And you don't even bother recalling the memories, it would not bring any comfort anyway. Right now, at least. What matters now is only the concern of the present.

...It has started again. It is a time to be cautious. I am thankful for all that Allah has given us,but I am still afraid. I'm praying hard for strength and time for everybody, especially Ayah.

La haula wala quwwata illa billahil 'aliyyil 'azim