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Thursday, February 23


"Hello, assalamualaikum."

"Waalaikumussalam, Mak."

"Buat apa tu? Dah makan?"

"Tengok TV. Em...belum."

"Bila nak makannya?"

"Em...tak makan kot."



Orang sunyi, Mak. Sebatang kara. Nak makan seorang, segan rasanya. Kawan sebaya sekepala dah tak ada. Yang ada semua dah berkeluarga. Dulu adalah seorang dua. Sudi teman makan sekali-sekala. Tapi bila dah lama baru orang sedar. Berkawan ni bukan boleh dipaksa-paksa.

Tak apalah orang tak makan. Tak seronok makan tak berteman. Jimat belanja banyak simpanan.

Tapi kalau boleh memang orang nak tinggal, nak kerja dekat dengan rumah Mak. Tiap-tiap hari boleh makan masakan Mak.  Orang tak kisah orang tak ada kawan. Asalkan orang ada Mak.

Mak ingat tak raya lepas Kakak cadang tak payah masak rendang, masak mi kari? Orang tak setuju, orang bangkang terus. Sebab bukan selalu orang boleh makan masakan Mak. Lagi-lagi masakan Mak yang setahun sekali.

Kalau duduk dekat dengan Mak dah tak payah telefon, tiap-tiap hari boleh sembang emak-anak. Mak pun tahu orang bukannya jenis rajin menelefon. Tadi orang ada rasa nak telefon, tup tup Mak yang telefon orang dulu. Betullah orang kata, hubungan emak-anak ni lain macam. Mungkin Mak boleh rasa orang rindu Mak.

Mak, kalaulah orang boleh cakap sebegini jujur dengan Mak. Tak ada rahsia, tak ada yang terbuku. Tapi lidah orang kelu. Orang dah tak biasa rapat macam dulu. Dari kecik duduk terasing berbatu jauh buat hati orang sendiri jadi batu. Jadi luah di sini saja yang orang mampu.

Tapi orang percaya bukan semuanya terlambat. Mak ingat tak ada satu malam dekat belakang dapur, kita bersila di lantai buat tempoyak. Sambil asingkan isi durian dari bijinya, kita bersembang berdua saja. Orang tak ingat apa isi bicaranya, tapi orang ingat kita bergurau dan ketawa.  Orang ingat orang rasa gembira.

Malam itu, orang jadi semula anak Mak yang dulu.

Sunday, February 19

The Crossroad

I feel like I finally reached the crossroad that I dread. With each step, my heart sank a little more. The heaviness is not in my feet, but rather, in my chest. All the stops that I took did nothing more than just delaying the inevitable. All the detours always, always lead me back to this.

The other day someone asked me how old I am? And I hesitated. No, not because I'm afraid to reveal how old I am, because it's pretty evident that I look my age, there's just no point lying. Right hand to God, at that time I forgot my age! So my head did a little calculation and I just realized that I'm freakin 27 going 28.

Not caring about your age might seem romantic, but that is only true if you're living your life knowing what you want. And I'm not.

What is my accomplishment so far? I don't have my own car (and it's killing me). I'm not in anyway close to owning a house, heck I don't even rent one because I'm living in a subsidized company house which is basically a slum with all the drama I had to endure on a daily basis. I don't invest my money. I'm still at my first job (that's as far as I can comment about that, but you get the gist).

In essence I avoid all the prerequisite steps a boy has to take to become a man. I run. I hide. I live the day without really thinking what's going to happen tomorrow. And I wish I do my best every day, that would be great, go ahead turn my selfies into motivational posters. But I dread each of them. I'm stuck.

I don't need to follow other people's typical lives, yeah sure, but it's become apparent to me that I'm nothing more than typical. This is not self pity, but a realization. I'm not going to change the world. I don't have any talent that I can capitalize. I'm socially awkward and sometimes downright hostile. I'm failing everything. If it makes any sense, right now while I'm typing this down I'm reminded of my 10-years-old self. You have so much potential. You were ambitious. Idealistic. I failed you and I'm sorry.

I need to turn this around, damn it.

But I don't know if I can. I just don't know if I can.