Untuk semua yg saya rindu.

If puddles on the street

evaporates to particles

then those particles turn

into cloud, into rain;

If Boreas Notus Zephyr and Eurus,

Blows to the south north east and west.

Carrying with them changing seasons;

flakes, dust and scents

of places before;

If the ocean are but one-

Pacific Atlantic Southern Indian and Arctic;

the water here,

is the water there.

And when you

journeyed down one road

and I,

on other.

And the leaves that you touch

crumbles into flakes;

into dust.

And the rain that falls onto you as

you ran reaching for cover,

becomes puddle on the street.

And the ocean saw your feet,

running through its waves.

And your laughter and your chatter,

your smell and your cheer,

gets caught in the swirls of the wind.

Then you,

my dear;

are in the morning dew on

my window pane

in the flakes that got stuck in

my hair

in the scents that i smell

in the dust on every surface

in the comforting afternoon breeze

in the ocean that i bathe in.

I can hear your laughter in the gale.

-inspired by the poem 27 by nerisa del carmen guevara.

Thought up during a languid afternoon class and written with several people in mind - rindu!

Margaret Atwood.

I like this poem. It has an elaborate way of saying "deal with it."

A sad child.

You’re sad because you’re sad.
It’s psychic. It’s the age. It’s chemical.
Go see a shrink or take a pill,
or hug your sadness like an eyeless doll
you need to sleep.

Well, all children are sad
but some get over it.
Count your blessing. Better than that,
buy a hat. But a coat or pet.
Take up dancing to forget.

Forget what?
Your sadness, your shadow,
whatever it was that was done to you
the day of the lawn party
when you came inside flushed with the sun,
your mouth sulky with sugar,
in your new dress with the ribbon
and the ice-cream smear,
and said to yourself in the bathroom,
I am not the favourite child.

My darling, when it comes
right down to it
and the light fails and the fog rolls in
and you’re trapped in your overturned body
under a blanket or burning car,

and the red flame is seeping out of you
and igniting the tarmac beside your head
or else the floor, or else the pillow,
none of us is;
or else we all are.

Margaret Atwood.

Taken from here where you can find a delightful mishmash of words.

beneath those colorful clutter, i'm sure u'll find ur thing. or two.

plight of the musically blind.

Milan Kundera's the joke page 130-131

(on moravian folk tunes and tonalities, explanation on its quirkiness and curiosity, complete with a few bars of music notes.)

Tak Paham Langsung.

From bengaluru, with love;

It's that time of the year again.

Takbir Raya.Rendang.Berkumpul ramai-ramai.

As im typing this, the house is filled with the smell of kerisik.

The clanking and cluttering sounds from the kitchen.

Occasional burst of laughters from the housemates,

-All the signs and symptoms of a celebration. Yeay!

Happy Eid al Adha everyone.

Selamat Hari Raya Haji to everyone at home.

And i guess, there's never a wrong time to also say

maaf zahir batin :)

So far, so good.

we eat a lot!

munch munch munch.chomp chomp chomp.

the weighing scale is having a field day.

food lovers we are.

and the first response i get whenever i turn on the web cam is "nadiah dah tembam gila!"

pffft.okfine.

for pictures and further description please click here.

now excuse me while i go in search of more food.

Resolution.

I promise.

The next time around,

i'm gonna do it right.

Better. at least.

Afterall, kita jatuh kita belajar :)

orang, kalau dah serabut tu, serabut juga.

silent!
i need a moment to think.
stop that pacing
halt those pointless ramblings
make that fan stop spinning.

what's that ticking?

who is drumming?

and you, with that chatter!

i can still hear you whisper!

silent i say

i need to think.

ineedtothink!

...













but even this silence
is deafening.

I wont put this up if its not worth watching.

This is just CRAZY cute. crazy.