Monday, November 27, 2017

An Aesthetic of This Semester

Breath in
Breath out
I am finally free (not fully yet) from projects!

This semester has been a great deal of hiatus, craziness, happiness, and much more. I help to handle 3 big projects.

1. Australian Student Mobility Programme 
Prof Faridah came and asked us to help her to become buddies and at the same time, working for this mobility programme. We received at least 14 people - 2 staff and 12 students from the Creative Writing and English Department at the University of South Australia. It was a blast!

2. IIUM Writers & Literary Festival
I had two missions when I took the responsibility to manage this festival. First, I would like to improve and make the best out of it. Second, it is my moral responsibility as a literature student to make this festival a platform to promote the study of literature. It went well and I hope the next line-up taking the baton will have the same vision as well.

3. 17th Biennial Symposium on Literature and Culture in the Asia-Pacific Region 
I first started as an assistant to the Programme Manager of this Asiapac Symposium 2017. When she graduated, I was automatically the next person to be in-charged. I've never done something this big, therefore, the immense pressure I had was unbeknownst to everyone. I got through because everyone was so supportive and it kept me in motion all the time. Teamwork is the key to this symposium. Thank you team and Prof Faridah!

All of these projects were organised within the span of three months respectively in September, October, and November and all went well. That's the aesthetic of this semester.

December, you better be good to me!

Tuesday, October 31, 2017

I'm disappointed

I'm disappointed
Dissed to the corner of a judgment
that endurance falls like a broken wall
Crumbles slowly in the mellow
of my crimson tears and
my blood that I am carving -
a sentence that imposed
without justice

I'm disappointed
What have I done?
Take me a thousand year to understand but
Tell me what truth shall I swallow
Ask me for did I know of any
because I know I am appointed
for this disappointment

I am dissed, appointed to an assumption,
Dissed as I have done nothing
but an honest reception
Nothing but the tears that wake me still
and everything that makes my years worth to stay
and I'm disappointed
that when I know
it's already too late

Monday, July 3, 2017

How my Eid was before

When I was a kid,
We go to kampung a week early,
Me and my cousins would go to kedai and beli,
A sparkled lid we call bunga api,
The elders yell 'Oi bahaya!'
But we'd still play and be ever happy.

When I was a kid,
My big uncle sits on his small chair,
He had a big smile and happiness to share,
All kids runs to him in baju raya they wear,
Because we love his duit raya (chuckles)
and that's what we care.

When I was a kid,
Everyone comes to be one,
The elders prepare the foods and we kids run around,
Everyone gathers greets each other 'Selamat Hari Raya'
and forgives each other cause that's what we want.

And of course,
When I was a kid,
I never knew that this'd be the end of it,
Things change and we grow up a bit,
Cause time is ticking as I sit,
But I can promise you
Before this ketupat and rendang I'll eat,
That I will cherish this as I see fit.

This (please oh please) will never be the end of it.

Friday, June 30, 2017

An Interesting Conversation

My phone won't charge for two days. I don't know why but I suspected my charger port malfunctioned. I need to repair it asap. So, I went to a shop in a mall. The owner of the shop is a Chinese man named here as J. He's very friendly. He was troubleshooting the phone when a conversation started. At first, we were talking about DotA, games, coffee, and smoking. These are a few things that can get you addicted. And here's the interesting part.

I was curious about the construction of the mall. FYI, the mall is up for years already. The top management had an idea to extend the mall and build a lagoon. Well, the idea sure is cool. The area covers a lot of people from urban city to rural villages stretched long in a crowded space. Universities are near and many developments are coming up in town. The mall could get a big crown if the lagoon is ready. But the problem is, the construction was left for so long. The extension at the back of the mall now looked like a haunted building.

So, I asked him when will the construction resume. J said nobody knows. Perhaps there will never be a lagoon here. He drove his car at the basement carpark of the construction once and he told me it was flooded. Perhaps there are cracks. The beams and its iron steels are already rusted. It is near possible to continue working on the building from where it was left.

There were many complaints by the people who worked here. Many of them have left the mall. I guess the top management didn't care much about a lot of things. In fact, they're problematic as well (as far as I can see it, they are!). J was once almost got charged 200 ringgit because they said his shop was dirty. Two days ago I complimented his shop for its interior design. I don't think 'dirty' is a part of his design.

On the contrary, the mall is dirty and we both agreed to this. The stairs, escalators, and lifts are not clean. The toilets? He told me that I should use the toilets in the cinema section instead. LOL.

He wanted to complain but he didn't. It won't be great to put the heat on the top management on the cleanliness of the mall when at the end, the cleaners will get to do the job.

"At the end of the day, the makcik from kampung who will clean up everything. You know what? I don't like those people who smoke in the toilet here. They throw their cigarettes away anywhere they like and it always clogged up the holes and left the toilet floor flooded. I asked them la why don't you throw it away properly and they said then the makcik got job to do. You know those makcik clean up those holes with their bare hands? I told them if I give them a hundred to clean it, they won't do it. They diam after that."

I was left in silent. Not because I have nothing else to say. I agreed everything. But I thought so hard, I believed 'humanity is restored'. Yes. J is among many people who fought for little things but think so hard that it will not mess up.

My phone was all okay. Turned out that my cable was not okay so I bought a new one from him. I left the shop and I brought along something with me. An interesting conversation is best gained when you least expected. I was there just to repair my phone and it was better than a coffee talk.

Wednesday, June 28, 2017

A Tale of a Baby

Here's a story about me and a baby.

Yesterday, I went back to the village of my foster family to celebrate my 2nd day of Eid Eidulfitr with them. They had a big gathering - the whole villagers - at the long house. Not gonna miss a chance so that's why I'm back.

There was this lil boy named Baby Z (not his real name). He's a year old. This cute boy is the only son of a single mother who is happened to be my foster sister. Most of the time, she's working in town, leaving behind her son at home under the care of her parents. 

I love kids. I mean those good kids but babies are all my babies. I love them all. Baby Z is not an exception. He loves to smile. He loves to chuckle at the face of people who play surprise attacks on him. He loves my jokes (everyone hates my jokes but him). Of course, this kind of connection is not the point where all things come together at once. I've taken care of him once when I came a few months ago. Practically, when I'm there, I'll be there to help and take care of him. But this time, it wasn't the same. 

You know when a baby comes to you naturally and takes your arms, he wants you to take him (and only you) and you did, and afterward, when you try to pass him to other people and he refuses, you know that? Well, that happens to me - between me and Baby Z. At first, I thought it was simply baby care job. Kids being kids. I don't think so. 

I carried him until he fell asleep. I was so tired and everyone else was occupied - people came to visit our house for Eid. I sat on an empty sofa and lied so low that it seemed like I was lying down on a bed but not entirely, though. Baby Z? He was on top of me. We both fell asleep. My other foster sister came (not Baby Z's mom). He wanted to put Baby Z on the bed. I tried to pass him to her. He woke up and refused, and continued to hug me tight. I think he's more familiar with his auntie's voice and I tried to think that maybe Baby Z was so sleepy, he ignored his auntie. 

Later, we went to the long house. We wanna gather with other people. We brought Baby Z with us but we left him at our grandparents' house. We enjoyed the night - foods and drinks provided, there's a band performing songs, everyone was dancing, and I had my great times. I was drinking when I saw my foster dad came with Baby Z whom I thought was sleeping happily. Quickly, I rushed at him. Baby Z was wide awake. As soon as our eyes met, he stretched his arms towards me and his hands were trying to reach me. I took him and brought him to the side of the long house. He was quiet - like always. I brought him around to dance, eat and drink, and to other people whom he cared less. Old people were calling his name and yet they had no responses. I walked to the side of the long house where his mom was around. I thought maybe she wanted to take him so I tried to. His mom was ready to take him while calling his name. I passed him to her and before I knew how he was quiet even when I did bring him to dance around, he cried. 

I took him back. I carried him around again until he fell asleep and I looked at him. I realized that I was fitting in a role - a father figure for him - I felt so close and I was hugging him, and I could feel how I was so emotionally attached to him already. I wanted to care him. I wanted him so much. 

But of course, it wouldn't happen. I can only be an uncle to him and I am back at my home, away from him again. Like anyone else who has a heart of a parent, I do hope that when we meet again, it's just like the way we left it, "I am your dad, you are my son." 

Saturday, January 7, 2017

Rides of the Night and its Observations (What?)

I made these observations in impromptu. All started when I was on my way to KLIA from UIA Gombak.

The night was clear. Half moon and stars filled the sky. The trees, they were all waving at me, bidding me goodbye. I looked back and it was a splendor semester I have ever had and as it ended, I must go back home.

At the bus stop near Farouq UIA, I waited for a bus, and a bus, empty and on rest, parked right in front of the bus stop. The sound of working engine meant that I might get my ride soon (at least what I thought). Unfortunately, it left me a few minutes later. Sigh.

According to my time, I have 25 minutes left before the last train takes off at the Gombak station, 11.45pm, as stated in the website I have searched. There was no time for me. Minutes passed and I have to decide. To wait for a bus? I rather not. I requested a Uber ride instead.

After 7-minute waiting, a car approached from afar, beaming its light and giving a signal to park on the side of the road, in front of the bus stop where the bus had parked. I got in and introduced myself. To my surprise, the driver was also an UIA student.

We have a talk. We were both engineering student, I left the school, though. He stayed and extended for 3 semesters. I reminisced the day I studied all the mathematics and we denied we enjoy it but in the end, it was fun and challenging. What made him stay even though it was a rough sail was that he has to do it. I observed his stiff voice. He was talking about his friends graduating from the university, leaving him as they embarked on another phase of life - working and getting their own money. The stiff voice, that was what I have had a few weeks ago within me when my friends graduated.

We arrived at the LRT. I left him a joke to leave UIA asap and it's boring to stay there any longer. In my heart, I prayed for his best.

With only one passenger, the train left the station.

At 12 am, we arrived at KL Central station. Bad news. The last bus took off from the station to KLIA at 11 pm. I asked around and a taxi driver suggested me to take a cab instead. Midnight price and high fixed price? Not a chance.

I bought a ticket to KLIA2. There were not many passengers and it was a pleasant rest. I woke up later arriving at the bus station in KLIA2. I went straight to the counter to buy a ticket for a transit to KLIA by bus. RM2 by right. Sadly, no transit bus available after 12 am and I have to wait until 5.30 am for the first trip for the day. If that's the case, no problem for me. The problem was, however, when you have a concerned father who was afraid that you might miss the flight due to these casualties, waiting for hours for a transit was a bad idea. I have no choice.

I went outside hoping for a miracle. As if He listened and responded in no time, a transit bus arrived. It was past 12 am and I was surprised. Maybe luck came to greet me like an old friend again. I talked to the bus conductor and asked if the service was still on the roll. The answer shocked me. A yes and no would probably best suited my dilemma. Yes, the bus shall give me a trip to KLIA but no, sir. No for an overpriced trip. He charged me RM10. I believed if taxis would do the same too.

In the end, I requested a Uber ride again.

This time, an old man with a clean black Proton Preve. He greeted me as I entered his car. His name was Uncle A (let's kept it anonymous yea). A 50-year old man from Malacca who lived in KL for most of his lifetime. A government retiree. He told me that age greeted him like an old friend. You thought it sounded bad, no? A lucky I have yet to meet.

He retired 3 years earlier, rest for a while, bought a new car, and became a Uber driver. I asked him why did he make the choice? As a government worker, you can easily get a lot of benefits. In a time of economic crisis such as this year, we all need a secure job. But this was not the deal for Uncle A. He chose to end his career, leaving his office earlier, to have his own job that he could control. Basically, Uber was it. He could do it in the morning or at night, and his working space was not limited. He could drive anywhere upon his customer's request. When I asked how he felt, he seemed to enjoy it at the moment. He felt energized and relax at the same time.

And at the same time too, we found ourselves at KLIA. I paid him a fee and I bid him farewell.

My observations were simply impromptu. But I could see a fine line between these people - all were motivated by money. Their social variability and psychology shaped their reasons but all led to gaining their own income. I claimed no justification for the overprice fees imposed on me, I leave them as they were. People have reasons. All of them - the engineering student, the taxi driver, the bus conductor, and Uncle A, they all have reasons. In all cases, I was depended on my money too, like them, and I was particular in choosing my rides.

Where does these impromptu observations lead me to? What does it teach me?

The economy is one of the basic aspects of human life. Human depends on the economy to survive, to keep up with a dynamic life they build, to not be statics or too slow, else they will be left. (and all the buses left me because I was late!)

Sunday, November 20, 2016

Doa Penghidupan

Doa Penghidupan
hasil nukilan AmirullahZul

Ada seutas benang terurai di sisi baju anak kecil. Lompat sedikit akan merosak baju putih yang sudah lama itu. Adapun hasil bermain di tepi pokok, berlarian dengan anak-anak yang umurnya sama sudah pasti akan membuka jahitan baju si anak kecil.

Dari jauh, sang ibu memanggil dengan lembutnya. Si anak kecil masih berlari-lari dengan gah, mencari yang bersembunyi. Semakin di panggil, semakin dia tidak mendengar. Lalu nyaring panggilan memenuhi segenap kawasan kampungnya, dengan nama penuhnya disebut, mata si anak kecil pantas mencari sang ibu. Gusar hatinya takut ada yang dimarah.

Si anak kecil berlari meninggalkan teman lain yang terus bermain. Wajahnya kasar kotor penuh tanah. Seliparnya tertinggal. Kiranya nanti akan diambil setelah usai bicara dengan sang ibu. Langkah semakin besar dan laju saat jelas ibunya berdiri di hadapan rumah kayu beratap beratap biru. Demikian jugalah degup jantungnya.

Sang ibu sudah menanti kepulangan si kecil lincah. Nakal seperti monyet. Tidak kalah berbadan kecil tapi bermain menang berjiwa besar. Dia sudah berdiri di hadapan sang ibu dengan kepala tunduk ke tanah seolah-olah ada salah.

"Ayah sudah pulang."

Nadanya tidak kasar tidak lembut dan bukanlah kebiasaan bagi sang ibu itu yang terkenal dengan budi baiknya. Jadi si anak kecil menjadi lebih takut, khuatir mungkin ada silapnya. Kalau makan, pinggannya sudah dicuci dan diletak atas rak. Mungkin juga kerana baju sekolahnya dibiar atas lantai tapi mustahil. Seingatnya, sudah direndam dalam baldi dan dijemur terus supaya besoknya boleh dipakai lagi. Kalau perihal sekolah, sudah dilangsai semua kerja rumah. Jadi apa?

"Atan, sudah kamu siapkan kerja sekolah?" tanya ibunya.
"Iya, ibu."
"Baju sekolahmu?"
"Ada tu dijemur."
"Sudah makan?"
"Dah."
"Pinggannya?"
"Atan dah kemas."

Cemas. Si anak kecil merasa tidak sedap hati. Apa gerangan sang ibu menyoal kesemua isi yang sudah dia ketahui? Makan sekali dengan sang ibu, membantunya menyiapkan kerja rumah juga sekali, yang mencuci baju pula si anak kecil tapi yang menjemur biasanya sang ibu kerana ampaian tinggi.

"Kamu tahu jam berapa sekarang?"
"Baru jam 4.20 petang, ibu."
"Baiklah. Kamu naik dulu. Solat asar."

Langkah kecil sambung berjalan menuju ke belakang rumah terus ke bilik mandi. Diambilnya gayung air dalam tempayan. Setiap pelusuk tubuhnya dibasahi air yang sedikit panas. Baju kotornya direndam di dalam baldi.

Kemudian dia naik ke atas terus ke biliknya. Kain tuala yang bergantung di hujung katil digapai. Tubuhnya dilap kering. Dia menuju ke tepi katil merapati meja belajarnya. Ada baju berlipat di situ. Dalam cepat mengambil pakaian solatnya, si anak kecil terlihat sebuah kotak. Bawahnya ada plastik baju. Kerana ingin tahu, keduanya diambil dan dibuka.

Ada sepasang baju baru dengan tanda harga sepuluh ringgit di dalam plastik itu. Seluar sukan juga ada. Di dalam kotak, ada peralatan tulis seperti pensil, pemadam, pembaris dan buku. Kesemuanya baru. Meskipun si anak kecil tahu bahawa hari itu bukan hari lahirnya atau hari istimewa sekalipun tetapi hatinya sungguh girang.

Bila sang ayah di depan biliknya, memanggil untuk solat bersama, si anak kecil terus berlari dan memeluk sang ayah. Dia memeluk erat dan berterima kasih berkali-kali. Si ayah membalas peluknya dan menyuruhnya untuk berterima kasih kepada sang ibu. Kerana dialah yang menceritakan barang-barang si anak kecil sudah agak lama. Hidup mereka bukanlah senang, tetapi cukup sekadar untuk berhidup seadanya. Jadi, bukanlah selalu barang si anak kecil dibeli baru.

Si anak kecil terus berlari ke arah ibunya di dapur dan mengucapkan terima kasih. Sang ibu memeluk erat si anak kecil yang satu. Dalam hatinya ada gembira merisik, sayangnya terhadap anak itu. Sang ibu melihat raut wajah si anak kecil dan tubuhnya kemudian ketawa sambil berkata, "Atan, pakailah baju baru kamu dulu nak. Janganlah berbogel berlari cari ibu."

Suasana itu disemat rapi dalam hati si anak kecil. Dalam langkah gembiranya menuju ke bilik, ada doa di kirim buat Tuhannya agar seluruh penghidupan ibu ayahnya diberkati.

Tuesday, November 8, 2016

My momento

None that I know of but how many do care about our inner self-righteous suicide? Too little to even disseminate the possibility of an occurrence, one can easily create a false assumption and derive a toxic social disorder among those who still believe.

God, if anyone can actually understand the value of acute empathy, only then a little integrity will be given. But not until one left the room and never come back. None. The sacred touch of the divine can only save but the human touch can relieve.

Truth, consider this as a memento. Life comes only when it's the only thing that is left.

Sunday, November 6, 2016

Unheard Voices

I feel happy when I hear a kitten meows. When I can't see where the baby is, I try to find it. I love them so much. But not this one time.

I woke to fragile voices of kittens. Probably more than 1. I was tired and sleepy, I couldn't care less. But somehow, the sounds were desperate. I guess they were hungry. So, I walked outside to love them.

As I opened the door, the sight of three unattended kittens at the side of a wall was shocking. One thing I know that it is an unnatural spot for a mom cat to make a home. It's too public. Kitten meows were heavy than usual. Where's their mom cat?

I walked and came closer to one of them and took them to the tender of my palm. What a small creature he is. Who couldn't love such tiny animal? I looked at the other two. There were 2 black kittens and the other one was tortoiseshell. So, I guess the mom cat should have black-white-orange fur as well. But honestly, where is she?

As I gave them comfort, a growl came from the other side of the wall, beside a stair. There I saw a cage. For one moment, I felt devastated. The mom cat was in there. Her nose was bleeding. She was furious I can see it. She moved wildly in the cage responding to the sound of her babies. When she saw me, she growled again. It was a horrible sight. I tried to open the small cage but she aggressively moved to taunt me. She probably thought me as one of those pest control.

I lifted up the cage and carried and placed it right in front of the kittens. From a savage instinct, she stopped and calm down at the sight of her babies. Her big eyes revealed an unconditional love she has for her babies.

I tried to persevere. I came closer once again in an attempt to free her. She enraged again. I lifted the lock and opened the door slowly. She stayed cause it was too small, she couldn't get out. As I pushed the door to give more space for her to be free, a person came.

He was in charged of this uncivilised work. He was the one in power to make the separation between the mom cat and the kittens. He was killing an establishment of love. He was killing it, and I, alas, couldn't do anything until the very end. He was only receiving orders. He was paid. He had to.

I resolved myself, get a self-composure and walked back into my room. At my strength, even when I tried, I failed. But I can't just stop yet.

I want you to listen to the fragile voices of those kittens. If you can't see it, you can look what's closer but far away from you. Palestine and Syria, for instance. How many mothers have been taken away from young children? How many of them are killed? And how many silent voices unheard?

I went back to sleep in hoping for a dream. There, I happily live with the mom cat and the kittens.

Monday, August 15, 2016

Dasar

Dalam kesal usah bertangis
Menjawab soal sudah terbatas,
Hanya mampu dibiar habis
Rasa hati tidak berbalas.

Ada karma menyulam hati
Mencari sendu hancur mati,
Ada waktu tidaklah sakti
Kerna masanya sudah mati.

Masam kabur berulam kata
Bila jiwa sudah melatah,
Mungkin bukan untuk kita
Bila jiwa sudah melatah.

Ahh... Dasar jiwa muda.

by AmirullahZul
1.54am
Monday, 15 August 2016

Wednesday, July 13, 2016

Ameow Updates (A Serious Note) Bluffing

Hi. It's been a while and hard for me to access the Internet since my phone has malfunctioned entirely. Nevertheless, with these few minutes, I would like to share few things here.

First, I am on an assignment. To be truthful, a research on Bidayuh language. The discipline of the research should cover the sociolinguistic issues of the said language. Although the direction of this research has not yet been determined, but I am looking forward to it in a very positive light. May it becomes my merit for my future postgraduate study. Hence, do pray for me.

Second, I am currently on writing projects; a novel, and Spades Book Project. This is funny but you should know that I've been trying to write a novel and with a little time I have during this holiday, I do hope I can spare some times to finish it. The second project is under Theatre House of Silver Spades. We've started it before Ramadan and it's in progress. For more information, do visit the blog website.

Third, my current readings. I have two novels with me; Sentuhan Kasih by Norhayati Berahim, and Ego Langit Ketujuh by Aesya Azahar. Norhayati, as I presumed and mentioned by my aunt and my sister, is a great writer of many best-selling books such as Inferior and Seindah Derita. I'm currently reading Sentuhan Kasih and I've been having heart attack moments in a positive and exciting way. Soon after I finish reading Sentuhan Kasih, I'll be moving on to Ego Langit Ketujuh. The author is a classmate I've known for a semester and funny I know of her, but not her writings yet. As informed by my sisters, she has written two other novels namely Isteri vs. Tunang and Mr.Boss Miss Stalker which have been adapted into local TV series. I know she doesn't like her friends reading her novels and that's why this update should not be on Twitter. Plus, what's the adventure of reading with all of the hesitation? Of course, I've never hesitated to read. Haha.

Fourth, my is it so hot in this room?

That's all. Cheerio!

Sunday, May 22, 2016

Reading novels are day-dreaming? Baca novel berkhayal?

Few days ago, I have found a disturbing notion from a man of intellectual stating that reading novels are nothing more than dreaming. He used 'berkhayal'. In the Malaysian context, the word 'berkhayal' is often used to refer day-dream, hallucinating, or in a major crime of heavy drugs. This word is used to refer a negative portion of imagination.

I couldn't agree more (if);
If the novels are purely belletristic, unsophisticated, no moral values of all sort, then it benefits almost nothing to the reader, when all it offers is plain sensuous imagination to feed our lust and desire.

But in defense of novels and all other didactic writings, the notion has served injustice. The undivided negative bias towards books creates unnecessary rejection from the mass onto the intellectual diverse the didactic writings have.

Hence, here are 2 benefits of didactic writings to readers;

1. It builds up the creative imagination.
In this prospect, creative imagination gives room for our mind. This is the opposite of sensuous imagination that feeds emotions which deceive the safeguard of our nafs. Creative imagination, however, does feed our emotion but not to the extent of leading us to do unwanted physical or emotional reactions.

2. It gets you into critical point and gives you solution
We can always choose to read for leisure. But as readers, we always want something more. A critical point is a space for intellectual discussion. When you read something, there's something more to it but what is it? Often when I read, I find myself the question concerning my life. "Why did he do that?", "How could she do this!?", "What now?". And often too, these questions reflect the questions in my mind. When it reaches the mutual agreement between you and the author through these questions, we need answers. The book now has the responsibility to give answer through the stories. The answer is important. It either create solutions or creates more problems. Hence, that's why authors need to project good ideas in their writings.
"A book that kills should not be published."

These are my two points of view. Reading novels can always be beneficial and it doesn't necessarily leads us to 'berkhayal', day-dream, or hallucinating. All we need is a good book.

-----
Nafs - Nafs (نَفْس) is an Arabic word occurring in the Qur'an and means self, psyche ego or soul.
Belletristic - having a purely aesthetic function

Didactic - intended to teach, particularly in having moral instruction as an ulterior motive.

Saturday, May 14, 2016

Midnight's Crisis

How fascinating midnight, for I was indeed in my timely motion, thinking of what I be in another 10 years. Time of time - just another sour taste of life with no subtle slot to find, with the least of intelligent, itself and acknowledging his stance. And so I too was here, taking thinking tools to create a versatile and profound foundation of me, trying to lose anxiety and fear.

"What am I for?"

"Why am I like this?"

"Where will I be?"

"How will I be?"

"Who will I be?"

Strike 2, a glazing from a dimming light had knocked me off these questions. Wait! This I found quite interesting. If I could be knocked off, I too could go back to where I was. Speaking existentially, the question of where will I be, with it, here I am! and I will be in my dream too! Then, I took my blessing disguise to create myself in an empty and free dream. Free of reality, I guess so.

I saw myself in there. I was sitting, of fresh but sullen dreamland, quite cozy, oh catly cozy. Yes! I thought I should have a thousand of cats. Then, came them, a thousand of cats, wiggling tails at me, how surreal. One sat on my dreamland and I asked him, while I pet him, of how lucky he being a cat! With a mind like mine, I had no regards of being a human. I was afraid of this, I hated that, oh I liked this one, but I can't have it - because people hated it. So, I had none of what I want then? I thought so. But you? You're just a cat. Let a human lay his hands on you and pet you as if there's no jungle of notes to discover! As if, as if there's no river of doubts to clean! No midnight's crisis! You're free from these questions!

And he looked at me. Like a panther with black veils but almost like a lion, angry one. He said,

"Have you not been eating good spicy chicken shawarma at Farouq? Kid, I've been trying to find good foods for my kittens since yesterday. Think again."

Oh, you witty mindful cat. I am sorry.

by AmirullahZul
2.30 pm
Saturday, 14 May 2016

Sunday, May 8, 2016

Dingin Malam Ini

Dingin malam ini
saat ketahuan detik akhirnya
jarak tinggal sejenak kelip mata.

Dingin malam ini
bukan dingin menyenangkan
tapi membunuh ruang dimensi.

Dingin malam ini
hanya mampu aku cari
jauh terlihat dalam cerminan dimensi
saat hangat kamu hilang dari dakapku.

by AmirullahZul
12.15 am
Sun, Mei 8 2016


Friday, May 6, 2016

Rangga, Cinta, dan Kita


"Lebih mudah menyintai semua orang dari melupakan seseorang." (Rangga, 2016) #AADC2

Rangga, Cinta, dan Kita

Adakalanya Rangga,
cermin kritisnya tanpa Cinta
Tapi hatinya selamanya menyintai.

Adakalanya Cinta,
jahat menampar sang pujangga
tapi hatinya masih menyintai.

Adakalanya cerita yang berbeda itu
ada masanya terdinding menjarak,
dan sadisnya Kita alpa
yang punya kata yang sama
hanya kerna Cinta dan Rangga
bukan Kita lagi.

Tapi aku masih pasti dengan Kita,
walau bukan detiknya lagi,
aku yakin, ruang untuk Kita
masih ada.

by AmirullahZul
2.00 am
Fri, 6 May 2016

Sunday, May 1, 2016

A Tale of A Demon Whisper

Speak to me none or 
Speak thou to my demon

Speak not of what we both for but
Speak for what we shall burn next

Speak as long as they speaketh 
Speak as we silent them unbreathed

Or if thou canst not, I shall whisper to thee
how to speak to my demon, my angel.

by AmirullahZul
6.30pm
Sun, May 1 2016

Wednesday, April 20, 2016

The Crow and The Pigeon

"Are we The Crow or The Pigeon?"

As the clock strikes ten, in my usual Monday blues, I have my morning rush to Romantic and Victorian class - a usual routine. The class starts at 10, yet there I am in my room, still packing up my things hastily. As soon as I'm done, I'm off to class.

I take the usual road, the same path every single day, and everything is the same - the day is fresh, the sun laid bare, cats in Mahallah Farouq having their regular yoga stretch, crossing the road seems fun, the busy ECONS Cafeteria and busy human, all in all, everything is the same as usual.

Then, I reach the Peace Ground and I look at one place where the pigeons eat in the evening, and they're not there yet. I remembered giving them foods like breadcrumbs, crunchy oats, sugary buns and other kinds of bread. The pigeons, although in groups, are very insecure. I can only give them foods but never have the chance to pet them, or at least play with them. It has been a while since I last feed them and I could have stopped for a while and give them some. But I was late and I guess they're still sleeping. No pigeons in the morning.

As I pass by the ground and The Grill Cafe, at the compound in front of the library, there I see, an unusual sight. Honestly, it is pretty unusual to see a kid playing with one crow. While her father looks at her from a distance, the kid poses funny actions and the bird watches her as if she was entertaining her and the crow stays to watch. I am still looking while taking my steps slowly as much as I can so these eyes can see that memorable sight.

As I walk away, I can not help myself. So, I turn 360 degrees to take a last glimpse of them playing together. Bless by God, I capture the best moment then. The kid takes her head closer to the head of the crow and almost kiss it. The Crow, surprisingly, stays and tilts its head, just like Toothless tilts his head to Hiccup to honour their friendship. It is spontaneous, cute and adorable, yet in my truest sense - honest and loyal.

I hope I stop at 180 degrees turn but I can't. I wish. So, I walk hastily again to class and I ask myself- why does the crow stay when she has offered nothing valuable but poses of funny actions? Yet, the pigeons fly away from me even though I give them foods?

If I have more time to contemplate this, I would stay in the library and I could write a critical essay. The crow has the same physical abilities like the pigeons - they are birds. They can fly whenever they want as long as their wings allow them to. The pigeons fly away when I feed them breadcrumbs, and the crow stays but the kid feed him nothing!

I have no answers yet. I am still contemplating. How unusual, the crow is.

by AmirullahZul
7.24 pm
Wednesday, 20th April 2016


Saturday, April 16, 2016

Gelap

Mencari cahaya dalam malam tanpa kamu
tanpa sakit, tiada erti yang terlahir
Hanya luka malam berakhir

by AmirullahZul
1.50 am
Sat, 16 April 2016

Wednesday, April 13, 2016

The Monster Within

Has it come to this point in time
when I vent out all these thoughts
So, let them drive my emotions crazy?

Savage!
I am not a weak mortal.

"Yes, you are.
Caged! Consuming insanity pills
and madness will
take you
in"

Ah, I will not dwell with you again
or if I do, must I come to this point
again and again?

"Yes, you have to.
Released! Throw up
and curse your wills!"

Goodness, forsaken me for once.
I will let you in,
but spare me a sanity tho by a mask,
I will let myself out.

by AmirullahZul
1.05am
Wed, 13 April 2016

Monday, January 11, 2016

A Narrative of An Ugly Mind

Often I revolted myself into several eternal strings of thoughts where seldom priceless pains and anger emerge out of sanity. In great despair, I found myself scrounging connection of minds which I have never attained. The pains and anger molded in an empty mind that clustered with dark pasts, haunting the nights with sophisticated provoking thoughts, killing rationality and mortality.

Quoting from Poe's wisest thought in millennia, "I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity", has made me more or less of a depicted mind of primitive man by anthropologist Franz Boas. I have indulged myself into a constellation of deeper sanity with the rivalry of isolation in the vanity of human relation.

Have I attained imagery minds in the depth of deeper sanity?
"Yes, you have!", said an imaginary friend.

If ever I find myself clueless in despair again, I would escape in the depth of deeper sanity, and that's in dearest thought - of becoming insane.

by AmirullahZul
1.10 am
11 January 2016