Sometimes the girl stands with arms around the boy’s waist, hands tightly clasped behind. Another fits her head into the curve of his cheek while tears fall onto his coat. Now and then the boy will take her face between his hands and speak reassuringly. Or, if the wait is long they may just stand quietly, not saying anything. The common denominator of all these goodbyes is sadness and tenderness, the complete oblivion for the moment to anything but their own individual heartaches. -
She's gone for over a year, but I actually feel that she never left. I can clearly picture her smile in my mind as if her death never happened. I can remember so vividly her crooked teeth, the back of her neck when she did an up 'do, the naughty cleavage peeking out when she bend over (and I nervously trying not to get caught), the softness of her warm embrace, her laugh, her being there. Every time I spend time with her, I was overwhelmed by her aura. She was sensational. I'm damn proud because I was in a close proximity with the greatness, and mostly because I probably will not achieve such glory.
I know that I'm delusional to think that she's alive, most probably because thinking that she's actually died breaks and rots my heart.
Once she told me that 'when there is love, she'll be there'. And that's why I'm gonna love everything so that she will always be here. On earth.
When I was a kid, I traveled a lot with my father. And sometimes he left me on the seat because the bus was so packed he let some lady sat on his seat and stood all the way back in the bus. When I couldn't see his face I started to cry in silence because I thought he left me/forgot about me, and while I was crying I had my whole life planned. But he always get me back. Always.
A group of professional people posed this question to a group of 4 to 8 year-olds: “What does love mean?”
The answers they got were broader and deeper than anyone could have imagined. See what you think…
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“When my grandmother got arthritis, she couldn’t bend over and paint her toenails anymore. So my grandfather does it for her all the time, even when his hands got arthritis too. That’s love.”
Rebecca - age 8
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“When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You just know that your name is safe in their mouth.”
Billy - age 4
_____
“Love is what makes you smile when you’re tired.”
Terri - age 4
_____
“Love is when my mommy makes coffee for my daddy and she takes a sip before giving it to him, to make sure the taste is OK.”
Danny - age 7
_____
“Love is when you kiss all the time. Then when you get tired of kissing, you still want to be together and you talk more. My Mommy and Daddy are like that. They look gross when they kiss.”
Emily - age 8
_____
“Love is what’s in the room with you at Christmas if you stop opening presents and listen.”
Bobby - age 7 (Wow!)
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“If you want to learn to love better, you should start with a friend who you hate.”
Nikka - age 6
(we need a few million more Nikka’s on this planet)
_____
“Love is when you tell a guy you like his shirt, then he wears it everyday.”
Noelle - age 7
_____
“Love is like a little old woman and a little old man who are still friends even after they know each other so well.”
Tommy - age 6
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“During my piano recital, I was on a stage and I was scared. I looked at all the people watching me and saw my daddy waving and smiling.
He was the only one doing that. I wasn’t scared anymore.”
Cindy - age 8
_____
“Love is when Mommy gives Daddy the best piece of chicken.”
Elaine - age 5
_____
“Love is when Mommy sees Daddy smelly and sweaty and still says he is handsomer than Robert Redford.”
Chris - age 7
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“Love is when your puppy licks your face even after you left him alone all day.”
Mary Ann - age 4
_____
“I know my older sister loves me because she gives me all her old clothes and has to go out and buy new ones.”
Lauren - age 4
_____
“When you love somebody, your eyelashes go up and down and little stars come out of you.”
Karen - age 7
_____
“Love is when Mommy sees Daddy on the toilet and she doesn’t think it’s gross.”
Mark - age 6
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“You really shouldn’t say ‘I love you’ unless you mean it. But if you mean it, you should say it a lot. People forget.”
Jessica - age 8
_____
And the final one…
Author and lecturer Leo Buscaglia once talked about a contest he was asked to judge. The purpose of the contest was to find the most caring child. The winner was a four year old child whose next door neighbor was an elderly gentleman who had recently lost his wife. Upon seeing the man cry, the little boy went into the old gentleman’s yard, climbed onto his lap, and just sat there. When his Mother asked what he had said to the neighbor, the little boy said: “Nothing. I just helped him cry.”
Kepada member arwah Z yang aku rasa cam pernah terserempak masa tapisan keselamatan,
Aku antara bebudak Chambers yang ada ngan arwah during his last moments. In fact, i was one of the 3 people whom tried to revive arwah when he collapsed outside badminton hall. Bila aku baca blog korang, aku rasa nak share saat2 terakhir dan apa yang benar2 berlaku pada hari tu. Banyak sangat version cerita sampai tahap mengarut pun ader gak. So, sebagai org yang berada kat situ, aku nak berkongsi apa yg benar2 berlaku. In fact, i was only able to talk bout this after so many times i broke down on that fateful day.
Arwah Z memang suka main sukan. badminton was his last game. walaupun dia reserved and the team had already won, arwah requested nak main gak. So, he played single. Almost perfect game. Every tricks, drop yg dia buat, semuer nya almost 8.5 -9 out of 10. he wont 1st set. Muka kewl giler tapi bila kat luar court tercungap2. Kitorang stopped him from playing in 2nd set walaupun dia leading. Arwah dah nampak cam takder angin. Siap joking, "aku takder angin ler...nampak bintang!"
Kitorang suh dia duduk, kibas2kan angin guna towel n suh dia bukak kasut. Arwah joked lagi: "aku terasa cam pengantin laik, kena kipas2 camni". Lepas tu, bila tengok arwah dah ok sket, bleh berjalan, one of the seniors suruh arwah gi ambik fresh air kat luar. En Din gi temankan arwah.
Aku nya game tak start lagi, tengah jejalan tetiber nampak En Din (crawling on the floor) bukak pintu mintak tolong dia. Aku ingat ker suh tolong angkat barang ker apa...tengok2, nampak arwah Z dah terbaring atas pool of 100plus on the floor. Ingat ker dia kena asthma attack or fit! So, me n en din baringkan arwah betul2, regangkan kedua-dua jari2 arwah, bukak mulut so that he can breathe properly. Masa tu semuer org stopped playing and was outside the hall with us. Anas held arwah's head, looked at me n En Din saying that arwah wasnt breathing. At that moment, we just had to whatever we can. Revive arwah in whatever means we have. Aku tak terfikir langsung that u were almost gone at that moment. Aku cuma buat apa yang termampu untuk selamatkan arwah. Buat CPR.... anas buat kiraan, en din buat mouth to mouth CPR, aku tekan jantung arwah. Hanya Allah sahaja yang tau apa yg kitorang rasa masa tu... We never gave up on you, Z! We kept pumping air to you, 5-6 times. Calling out your name. To be with us no matter what.
Andy came with his car. Drove like madness to Selangor Medical Centre. Bila aku tengok arwah dah masukkan dalam keta, aku turned back and saw few girls started crying. Depa kata kaki arwah dah sejuk. Nampak lifeless. Then, reality hits me...I've lost arwah..I collapsed n broke down.
Bila sampai kat SMC, diorang kata docs tengah mencuba. Aku tak fikir apa2 hanya mampu berdoa dan hopefully miracle would happen. After few moments of waiting, it felt like a terrible nightmare happening slowly in front of my eyes. A team-mate ran towards me crying. The only words I heard before aku collapsed n broke down were: "He passed away..He didnt make it."
Hati aku cam dirobak2...aku ilang sorang ofis-mate, team-mate, junior officer yg aku selalu panggil "boss" sebab dia panggil aku camtu gak dan seorang kawan yang baik. Walaupun kitorang tak lepak sangat, tapi kitorang keje pagi petang sesama kat international affairs division. Tukus lumus layan tensen keje sesama.... Apa2 hal, i treated him like my own brother.
Pemergian arwah Z adalah suatu kehilangan yang kami semua rasai kat ofis ni. Hampir satu ofis pergi raub untuk pay our last respect to arwah. I was glad that i talked to your mom personally bout your last moments with us. How extremely grateful we are to have arwah Z as our officemate. And how determined we are to win that badminton tournament for you, Arwah Ahmad Zulkamal Shahrir. May you rest in peace, Al-Fatihah.
-Words in Memorial- Norsharin Alias aka Ayin Officemate, badminton team-mate n friend of
Do not stand at my grave and weep I am not there, I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow. I am the diamond glints on snow. I am the sunlight On the ripened grain. I am the gentle Autumn's rain. When you awaken in the morning hush, I am the swift uplifting rush of quiet birds in circled flight. I am the soft stars that shine at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry. I am not there. I did not die. My Spirit is still alive… -- Hopi prayer
I woke up this morning with short breaths, which is weird because I never have that before. Maybe it was cold last night, or my coughing, or something else. After lunch and a couple of cancer sticks, everything seems normal again.
Later, right after I got home from my daily workouts, I got the message that shook the ground under my feet. My friend passed away. I couldn't believe my eyes. Immediately I was swarmed with confusing emotions. I was sad, but I was mad too.
I called my friend who gave me the text. He said that my friend died from a heart attack this morning while playing badminton with his friends. It feels like my senses betrayed me as I couldn't believe my ears. Heart attack? That is just ridiculous. I called my other friends to relay the news and they were as shocked as me.
Ahmad Zulkamal Shahrir, or as affectionately called, Doyok by close friends was my classmate in form 4 and 5. We sat next to each other for the whole two years and he was one cool, popular guy. Basically he was my stepping stone into the social clique because before that I was a selfish total nerd. I was riding on his tail coat the whole time until I could established myself as one of the player.
After school ended, I barely see him, but sometimes when we do, we were best buddies again. We went to different directions. He was a lawyer at an AG chamber, and I went to this dead end. Sometimes last year, something happened and I secretly began to despise him. I cut all contacts with my old schoolmates, ignoring all invitations and whatnots. I guess I just need some time to heal. But clearly, I just wasted the time I had. My heart's aching. I regretted my douchebaggerish actions, but yet I failed to recognize it everysinglefuckingtime. I'm trippin so bad.
His funeral is tomorrow's morning, but I ain't going. I'm not burying my brother.
Doyok, rest in peace bro. Gonna miss you. Al-Fatihah...
I still feel such a sorrow every time I look at this picture.
Update: One of Zulkamal's friend commented on this post, and told me what really happened.
"On the contrary, it wasnt really a heart attack whilst he was playing badminton. It was actually a brain hemorrhage due to blood rush. He didnt collapse at the badminton court. It was after he was stopped from playing, standing outside to take fresh air.
Doc said arwah was like a walking time bomb. It was unfortunate that it happened at that moment. Nonetheless, he passed away peacefully, without any pain and surrounded by loving, caring friends.
Even at his funeral, close friends, colleagues, bosses were there to pay their last respect.
Dont take your life for granted. No matter how stressful it can be, take some time to rest well."
Thanks Sharin for the correction. Would you please give me you email or your number? I need to talk to you. Thanks.
I planned to stay for Chinese New Year despite a rare four days break from work. Other than the independent gene I probably inherit from my father, I am on tight budget, which was why I decided to have a quality time in solitary. A few days earlier, my sister called me to ask whether I will return home because my family are staying at my great-gramps house for a kenduri. I told her that I'm not. Then a couple of days later, my grandmother called to say hi. She asked the same question and I gave her the same answer.
After the call I my mind wrestled to reconsider my earlier decision. Throwing logic thinking and cautions in the wind, I ended boarding a very late night bus to JB. Then I went straight to Pontian in the morning after a night stay at my uncles. I was beyond tired because I didn't get enough sleep, mainly because my night was disturbed by a very loud Persian cat in heat - her partner died a month ago, so she need to satisfy her female urges, ON ME!
I reached my great gramps house and my big fat family were surprised. They were preparing the dishes and souvenirs for the kenduri, and I ended up flaming the satays, all 1500 of them.
After that, I took my mom, my brother and my grandma to the town, had some drinks and food, and brought my grandma a rice cooker because she's not keen with her current 'too modern' rice cooker. Then we went back just before the kenduri started. And I (ahem) slept during the kenduri.
The next day I had to take the KL bound bus because there was no Seremban bound bus left.
I'm broke, but it worth it, as long as my family is happy.
During one episode, Robin freaks out in a restaurant when she mistakenly thinks Ted is proposing to her after she receives a champagne glass with an engagement ring at the bottom. When Ted tells her "That's not mine", another gentlemen at the table behind them says "It's mine", then proceeds to propose to the woman at his table. The proposal between the man and woman was real. The man set up the whole scheme with the show's producers, and told his girlfriend that they won a contest and got to be extras in a HIMYM episode. Instead, he proposed on camera, and the proposal will live on forever as part of the episode. How I Met Your Mother
I fell in love with someone. This time it's nothing sexual. Phew, at last for once, I'm not a perv. She is nice to me, and she said that she love me. I know she does. But I do know too that she love somebody else. And I can't do shit about it coz she's not mine. Sometimes, this relationship feels like the relationship between the sun and the moon. Some how I figured out that they are for each other, a fit pair. Like in the mortal quote of the legendary (and now creepy) Tom Cruise, "You. Complete. Me.". I see the sunlight as the love showered to the moon. However, the sun spread her light to others indiscriminately. She have to. It's her nature. Ok, whatever. I know its getting unbearably abstract and weird. Whatever it is, I will always love her. It feels like she's the only one who gets me.
I am sitting in my office alone having ice cream and coffee for my break-fasting coz I don't feel like queuing for nasi ayam. Tomorrow is the last day of work, and my mind is already 200km from here. I want to be at home so bad. Fuck work.
As much as I'm happy that I'm returning home for this holiday, part of me seems reluctant to return home. Not because I love it here, but the fact that I will have to answers thousands of questions about my life I'm not proud of.
It seems like every year, I am the same person, where idyllically I want to be a growing better person. Honestly, I'm quite embarrass to present myself as I am. The stagnant condition that I am today is not what I imagined my life would be.
Sure, I can't wait to meet my whole family. Whole 50 of them. I like how the house overdosed with laughter and traditional culinary orgy, and how I drowned in the happiness around me. I can't wait to see my grandmas and those pesty cute nephews and nieces running around and tripping on each other. I can't wait to silently eaves dropping the latest gossip about certain someone and become the reluctant waiter for my great grandfather's guests. I missed the moment where the men sit around the table and choke ourselves to death with cigarette smoke and talk about manly things like cars, politic, economy and 4D numbers (while the women of course bust their ass off in the kitchen).
It is just sad to realize that one day this gathering will soon end. Every family is growing old, and one day this pilgrimage of celebration will be reduced into a legend. When that day come, all we can do is relive the sentimental moments through stories and smiles.
This hari raya I planned to do the thing I avoided for the past years. I don't care if I cry buckets, I just want to kiss those superpower hands that shower me with much more love that I could handle.
So to whoever who are celebrating this Eid Mubarak, I wish you a very peaceful celebration that filled with eternal joy and happiness. May God bless us all.
An 8 years old with a terminal leukemia boy married his 8-years old best friend as his last wish. After 4 years battling leukemia, doctors given up hope and send Reece Fleming home, saying that he only got weeks to live. So when asked what's his wish, he said he wanted to marry his best friend, so Reece Fleming proposed to his 'special friend' Elleanor Purgslove at a laser tag party. Thier parents made up a pretend wedding ceremony complete with a fictional certificate, so the wedding is not totally legit. Reece Fleeming died the next day.
Today I receive yet again a text message from a girl that I'm pretty sure she's into me. Now I don't mean to sound cocky or perasan but she have been pursuing me since college and I've given the signal that I'm not interested all these years, and yet she never give up. I don't want to be cruel and drop the bomb to her, but every time she messaged me, I felt sorry for her.
I somehow still befriends with most of my exes, even though I think it's an awkward thing to do. And funnily enough the usual question asked when we are talking is that do I have a new girl. Firstly, it's none of your business. Secondly, I don't kiss and tell. If I say yes, then they'll get all offensive and everything but if I say no, they'll somehow hinting if we could go back together. I fully know that I am not a good boyfriend (I hate talking, I don't hold hands, etc), but why they keep hinting to go back together is beyond me. Am I not a jerk enough?
Then there are girls that I can't return their feelings back. I'm just not into them. Period. I'm far from a perfect guy, but I think it's everyone's right to find a perfect love, right? I know perfection is a tall order, but why settled for less when you can have more?
I think I'm a lil bit strange from the other guys. If there's a pack of girls, instead of pursuing the obvious 'look-at-me!' pack leader, I'll go to the quietest and most low profile of all. I think they have the biggest surprise in them and mostly they turned out to be really interesting and easy going. A wall flower maybe a lil bit dull, but it lasts longer than the superficial overpriced roses that need a constant care but will absolutely die in a week.
So there goes my stand on finding a partner. Hate on me, but you know it's the right thing to do. I'm just keeping it real y'all.
Its funny how words can make or break you. They can make you feel like you are on the top of the world and they can surely can kill you.
First of all, I am very skeptical about this counseling thing. You know, when someone pour their hearts out to a stranger, and then have the deepest secrets dissected and rendered theoretically into bits and pieces of action and consequences equation, with no clear answer offered. It is hard to bare yourself while parading your vulnerability and shortcomings to people we trust, yet alone people we only know professionally or people we barely knew.
... Back in the college days, me and my friends were kind of people you don't have any expectation to. We were the laid back fun hunters who enjoy endless laughters and porn entertainments (movies, games, sports... you get my drift). We made fun of each other and then proceed to laugh like a bunch of brainless monkeys. Swell time...
There were times when I was with my friends, I lost my trackings and blurted out my worries. Sometimes I got ridiculed, while most of the time they offered encouragements. And slowly I retracted my creeping tentacles into my own shell and change the spotlight to other person. Auto-mode self defense.
Once, I got this words of encouragement from a friend I didn't expect to get the soothing words from. I don't really know what it was, but his words felt sincere and those words set me free.
Then there was this time when I was really fucked up, and I was just kinda casually tell this old buddy of mine about my trouble. While I expected him to ridicule me like he always used to, he offered encouragements and kind words to me.Instantly I was moved and soothed and my flickering will to live turned into a fiery spirit.
Just this afternoon I received a call from somebody's bigger than me. Somebody really REALLY important, whom I dearly respect and admire. I was down (no news there) and ready to give up, and she was really quick to pick it up. She blew words of strengths with her gentle voice, and it really hit my soft spots. I literally cried like, right there. After a few moments, I gathered myself, and I felt really relieved. She showed me the light I misplaced a long time ago and put things back into perspective.
For a guy who barely speak, I surely poured out everything today. This is like the first time I cry in like years, and I've never been happier. My eyes still swollen red and my nose is still running like a five years olds, but somehow, I feel 'lifted'.
SO to whoever that cared enough to read this thing, just remember to offer your ear for your friends' worries and lend your shoulder to cry on. You have no idea what a great favor it is. And to my dear kakak (you know who you are), I would thank you from the bottom of my heart, but for you my heart has no bottom.
My dad and I have this unique relationship. We barely speak, but we absolutely understand each other. Maybe it's because he was stern in my younger years, or maybe it's because I was away from home for the longest time.
He has this tough exterior, thick bushy mustache Freddy Mercury style and he's tall and big. He never beat his kids but his voice alone could send shivers to me and my siblings. We tried very hard not to mess with him, but sometimes we just did. I know he's a very sensitive guy. I saw him choked several times. The day when we got in a road accident, the day he called me to tell me that grandpa died, the day when my cousin passed away. We try not to disappoint him or make him sad.
I think all my life, I worked to get his approval. I know in some way, I didn't live up to his expectation, but trust me I tried very very hard.
He's a very intelligent, independent and resourceful man. He can built anything from scratch. A house, a shop, my school projects, my siblings school projects. Somehow, he's like an elf. He worked when we're asleep. Come morning, our beautiful homework that we cried over the previous night, magically appeared as perfect as we imagined it to be. I did get some snide remarks from my jealous schoolmate, but I was glad my dad is way better than theirs. Boo hoo.
From the tell tales, my dad was a wild child. And I think so too, judging from the old pictures of his hey day. I remember this iconic picture of him, where he's singing and playing a guitar in a studio, with his hair long and wavy. So cool. I think that's why my mom fell for him. He also has this thing for black ray-bans - its like his signature wear.
He loves his football and badminton. My mom told me, once when I was small, he brought me along to the Larkin Stadium to watch a football match, where he managed to lost me, and only to find me in the middle of the pitch. That was of course the last time I tag along to any football match. But he still let me followed him to his badminton games and gigs.
He used to have this cool 70's jipang motorcycle, way before those stupid mat rempits infesting our streets. I remembered falling asleep most of the time when I ride with him. However due to the super speed of the motorcycle, my grandpa managed to persuade him to ditch that monster to a more standard motorcycle. I miss that bike.
About 9 years ago, I got into this deep shit. When no one believes me, he's the one that stand tall behind me. Although he didn't show or say anything, I know he went all the way to clean my name and clear the air. That event left me scarred, coz although it hurts me, it hurts my father more. I know I shouldn't say this, but to this day, I never forgive anyone involved in that thing, including an old relative which was also the imam kampung. Even though everything seems cool now, every time I see him, I just walked away coz I can't bear my boiling hatred. I thank God for my father who was the only reason I didn't kill myself.
During hari raya, I skipped the whole salam thing coz I know I will cry if I kiss his strong hand. I usually shake his hand moments before I depart so he doesn't have to see me choking. Without words, we know that we love each other very much, it just we're too cool to express it. Like father like son.
Anyway... I am forever in debt to my father's priceless love. I am happy if I turn up half as good as him.
Abah, I love you. Happy father's day.
Rock on!
"He didn't tell me how to live; he lived, and let me watch him do it." -Clarence Budington Kelland
