Laughter

 We had a really good laugh. Mom and I. It makes me smile merely at the thought of it. 

Addin confided in mama, saying how he could not bear the cold. That coldness always made his head ached. How the very discomfort sounded very familiar. 

 I always find the cold exhausting, how I hate it the way it saps away my energy and liveliness. That if I stay longer than I should in the cold, my fingertips will turn periwinkle, before my sensories feel numb. I always prefer the good hot over the bitter cold. 

The way our body rippled with mirth, that we had to turn our body from the lightness of it. I glanced at mom laughing her head off, and a thought passed, on how it wasn’t really the context of joke that is capable of making us laugh, it might be simply the affection we had for the person, that makes her actions and thoughts are so much contagious. 

I was asking mama to make a prayer for me, to be able to secure a job sooner. And telling her to forget the idea of getting me wedded because I want to bring her to nice places first. 

She told me story about a woman she saw at the mosque yesternight. How she felt sorry for her. The person asked the wife of the pious to make prayer for her, to be able to come to a decision and be sure of what she wants. She’s getting married in a few days but nothing feels right, even after she tried everything. In the middle of the story, I was thinking how how Allah is the beholder of the certainty of our hearts, that it is humbling. 

I hovered longer around her that she had to ask me to go away because she wanted to sleep. 

Holding Hands

 We held hands. I was wondering what it would be like to have a home of your own where you could come and go, where people would be welcome, where you would never be frightened again. –Jeanette Winterson

It was night-time and it’s drizzling. I was walking in a hastened gait, but on the inside, I was feeling rather defeated and engulfed with a familiar sense of longing. 

I hate getting wet and being in cold only meant misery. 

I heard a brisk footsteps behind me and before I knew, out of nowhere, a warm hand weaved through my every finger, chanelling the warmth of his skin. And I how smiled at that. 

His very touch felt all familiar and I didn’t have to turn to know who he was. A relented and relieved smile crept up my face. I stopped and didn’t turn immediately. 

I enclosed his hand in mine, and turned. He always appeared out of nowhere. And how his presence is always felt like a gift. 

Still smiling, I was trying to find his gaze, and turned completely to my side to really take him in. 

He was being all playful, tightening his hold, but was looking away as if feeling sheepish for his act. How my heart was brimming with love, and felt like it’s going to burst at any moment. 

Warmth

While getting ready for my iftar, I was flooded with feelings and memories, that made me crave so much more for warmth than it was. I took the cup that filled with hot tea and hold it in my palms. It had gotten warm, just the perfect warm for my liking. 

Feeling pleased and relieved, I sipped the tea. 

I was at the brink of tears but was forced to blink it away because there were people going in and out of the kitchen incessantly. I was indignant, defeated and in the crackling of ire, thinking, why we always said things that we don’t really mean? It wasn’t unfair. Not just to us but also for themselves. Why would we want to trade that fleeting satisfaction with lasting regret, when that’s only going to draw away the people we love, creating an outstretch, far-fetched gap. The very thought had finally overwhelmed me. It was always there before, nagging at the back of my head.

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In the very moment, I was reminded of the uncle, how he always said that I am full of potentials, that I need to take care of myself well. I received that a lot from random people saying how they see such a potential in myself, to the point I had become indifferent to it. I would always brush off the awkwardness of their words with a mild laughter. Behind the open door, I would always find myself crying defeatedly over their words, when I always found myself incapable of seeing things that they saw inside of me. There were times I was filled with a vigour to prove them right but came crushing down because I didn’t I have what they thought of me. That I am just the very ordinary woman. 

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The thought brought me to the question I received. 

It was in the evening, and I was just done buying my dinner at the night market. I looked at the back of the person, her familiar gait with the very one shawl style, and I called out for her. She turned around and walked towards me. I remember feeling giddy and looking at her expectantly. We changed remarks and then she came to the very question;

Are you happy?

Are you happy?

Are you happy?

When being bombarded with such a question thrice, I couldn’t help but to ponder on my answer afterwards. To question myself how far the truth behind it. If I really meant it. I answered yes with such a gusto. Looking back, I was happy (I think), to finally being able to feel belonged at one place, which it took me by surprise (that I was capable to experience such majestic feeling). Where everyone had their own quirks, that my own didn't have to stand out so much. 

How the word happy itself is very objective. 

Now, let me ask you a better question; what makes you feel happy today?

The Waning Friendship

 I’ve been thinking about this strenuously again after reading Firecrackers last month. The thinking actually had been started since July last year. And maybe I will finally write about it now after the dream I had last night. 

At times, it seemed easier to disengage. It always downs to that one time when the realisation came and hit you, on how contradictory your values had become between the two of you. And how the gap suddenly and surprisingly, had stretched so much that you started to think if it’s possible again to have such a connection with the same people, or other people in the future. 

And you thought, what had gone wrong? Does it always have been this way? Had the spark been long gone without you realise? 

You started to become hesitant telling them about things that matter to you. Because what's the point?

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I saw her, standing there, and my chest was instantly flooded with a yearning that I don’t remember owning but everything felt familiar and it was hard not be convinced with the feelings I had. 

I ran and gave her a tight hug. I told her how I felt relieved to finally able to touch her, and how I longed for this embrace. I cried heavily with all my might. 

She asked, why it took you so long to come back to her?

I said I wasn’t sure but it didn’t matter anymore that I have her now. 

We talked, taking each other in, listened intently, mending our longing hearts for each other. 

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Having this dream, it forced me to tend to this very thought that I’ve been putting off for some time now. It also makes me think about how it always amazes me how confounding vulnerability is capable of making us feel, but why we always hesitate when we were in the moments that demands for it?

And why, only by having them in person, it feels like it’s the only way we could confirm things that were on hold, like emotions? 

Korean Literature

 You know how sometimes we are under conditions that will not allow us to explore our own emotions, whether that makes us thankful to be under such circumstances or simply will leave us agitated for not be able to tend them immediately? And at the end, they were left untended, forgotten and we thought that we had got rid of them by simply putting them away. 

Reading Korean literature books, I always feel like I was being forced to actually sit with those old emotions (in a good way) by processing the thoughts and feelings I had during the reading process or the afterthought I had after I finished them. 

Simply put, they always feel heavy on my mind. The stories itself doesn’t necessarily fall into the heavy type, neither felt heavy. They were just weaved so perfectly, intricately that they reminded me of the gentle, unjudging, touch on my shoulder I received when I was at the brink of breaking. 

The touch that made me feel that I am now allowed to break, that it made me feel like it was safe now to come crashing down, that it’s okay to shatter if that's what's going to make me feel better.

 I couldn’t help but to cling to them, thinking it felt somewhat worthwhile to be brood over. And usually they stay longer on my mind, for days, sometimes weeks or simply longer than that, to the point it feels like they never actually leave me.  

Then I started to think, if their capabilities of writing so well had something to do with their background, I mean, if their history and culture actually did contribute a huge sum to it. I know each of the stories is only an individual work but they possess a similar quality. Maybe because their past had shaped their culture and culture shaped them in the most intricate ways. Their writings simply show how deeply they are rooted to their belief.

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Their writing is so impactful on the mind. Poignant, heavy with emotions and rich with feelings, but never seem to leave out the most important parts; facts, which usually cover on their history. 

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This is exactly what I felt when I read The Kinship of Secrets. The storytelling is so vivid that I could picture the scenes and feel every emotion between the lines. I never thought I would like the book this much and feel deeply about it. The story felt immersive that I found myself crying thrice over the story. I have to admit I actually like this one slightly better than Pachinko.

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Choi eunyoung is my new favourite Korean author. After reading her note, at the end of the book; Shoko’s Smile, how I could feel thankfulness bubbled inside of me, for her perseverance to keep writing despite all the hardships she faced in past. For being sensitive as she claimed, (being sensitive at heart is rather a gift isn’t it?) I’m able to read a brilliant piece of hers, which seems simplistic on the surface but sharp enough to leave such an impact when being dissected. It makes me think over what capabilities I need to own to be able to evoke an array of emotions in someone, within only short pages? I’m still in awe. 

I wonder how much I am (or if I) actually missing out for only I am able to read the translation one. 

Our Happy Time (A Book Review)

 

5 stars from me. No doubt. 

No wonder millions were sold. I didn’t know it was a bestseller when I included this in my TBR a long time ago. Found it on BookDepository once, and I was left intrigued by the synopsis but took me long enough before I finally dived into it.

It’s been awhile since I read a Korean literature and reading this book, I was being swept over with the remembrance of how Korean lit books are capable of making me feel things that no other authors capable of.

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His situations of life made him think he was the way he acted but we know it’s never the case with anyone. And how saying this, reminds me of the line from When the Stars Prostrated;

“People mold themselves to become a reflection of how the world sees them.”

Honestly, it left me deeply upset over his decision. Sure, he could think of it as an act of salvation but, how I wished he fight harder for his life. It wasn't going to be easy for him because lack of proof or whatsoever but it left me feeling crestfallen. 

But in a way, he was made to believe he deserved what he was going through, how life makes him think he acts in certain ways because that what he is without realizing the way he acted was only an act of survival under such dire circumstances.

And I was thinking, if we could blame someone, who should be blamed?

Asking that, makes me think of how truly things happened for some reasons.

But after all, it seems to be like it’s all worth it at the end of his life.

Hospital Trip (Part 2)

 Then datang sorang doctor lelaki. Aku syak dia doctor sebab dia cakap lembut. Aku jadi cuak, aku fikir, dia datang nak tegur sebab adik aku jerit kuat tengah-tengah malam ni. Dia tanya kenapa, then aku bagitahu. Aku pandang dia memang direct mata, tapi bila pandang tu, payah nak baca reaksi mata dia. Dia tanya aku mak sedara ke, aku jawab kakak. Then dia cakap kita nak kena transfer adik awak kat hospital lain, sebab dorang tak boleh buat kat sini. Sekarang tengah tunggu ambulance.

Aku literally stared at him, zone out then tersedar bila dia tanya soalan. Aku dah makin nervous, tak tahu nak expect apa. Then ambulance datang, tiba-tiba aku rasa I/C aku tak ambil lagi. Then aku pergi tanya nurse tadi then check balik, ada je dalam bag. Haru dah aku ni. Aku macam bersyukur gila the doctor ikut sekali and the other nurse lelaki.

Aku duduk facing the nurse, and dia tak berhenti-henti tersengguk. Dalam kepala aku, what makes him choose this profession. Aku kesian gila. The doctor belakang aku, keep checking the notes dan kadang simply buang pandang ke luar. Lajunya ambulance, aku rasa nak duduk peluk lulut, tunduk muka, tapi aku fikir, adik aku dah cukup takut and traumatized dengan nurse, takkan aku nak tunjuk lembik aku depan dia. Dia pun tak tidur, padahal dah nampak penat sangat.

Sampai hospital, the doctor mintak surat beranak adik aku, sebab nak daftarkan. Aku hulur kepala kat luar, nampak nurse tu selesaikan registration, and the doctor was behind him. Aku pandang je dorang, then the doctor pandang aku balik. Mesti dalam kepala dia, kesiannya budak ni.

Then dorang hantar kitaorang sampai dalam wad kanak-kanak. Otw tu, the doctor was kept trying to make conversation tapi aku tak boleh focus, sebab banyak benda dalam kepala. Aku tak tahu dia sekadar nak mengisi masa sebab nampak aku dah floating away atau dia simply nak distract diri dia dari penat. Dahlah awal tadi dia tanya dah buat PCR test ke, aku cakap belum, tapi swab test dah. Pastu dia cakap haa sama lahtu, pastu terus aku rasa makin bodoh daripada biasa and refused to keep talking. The nurse yang tolong tolak adik aku guna wheelchair sampai lah kitaorang semua masuk dalam.

Sebelum dorang masuk bilik doktor dan menghilang, aku sempatlah cakap terima kasih earnestly pada nurse tu dan dia senyum dan angguk. Doktor tu sempat tanya aku study mana right before dia stripped away his plastic overall, pastu aku automatically look away dan boleh rasa darah naik ke muka, lepastu aku rasa makin bodoh, bukan dia bukak baju depan aku pun lol. Awkward gila.

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Nurse selalu datang pada masa-masa janggal untuk bagi ubat. Tengah malam, sebelum subuh, maghrib, lepas isyak. Kadang aku jadi segan sendiri bila tengah terpisat-pisat baru bangun tidur, dorang dah ada depan muka. Tapi tak sampai separuh hari kat situ, aku dah hafal rutin dia, so senang aku kunci alarm untuk bagi adik aku neb dan surmise bila nurse datang nak check. And I started to feel like home there. Duduk dalam tu, aku rasa jauh dari dunia luar, secluded, tapi in a good way. Macam dapat ruang isolasi yang tiba-tiba, yang kau pun tak terfikir yang kau akan suka.

Masa dekat hospital ni lah, aku start fikir pasal suara budak-budak menangis ni sebenarnya, is a sound of blessing. Aku tak sure lah kalau benda yang aku cakap ni make sense ke tak tapi bila those kids menangis serentak bila nurse pergi setiap katil nak bagi ubat, aku jadi senyum sendiri.

Tapi sebelum aku capable of taking in the situation positively, penat jugak aku asyik nak tahan air mata sendiri. Kau pusing sana, kejap lagi kau nampak baby terbaring layu, kau pusing sini, kau nampak those mothers' eyes, drooping with expectation and softened with love. Sampai aku asyik kena tunduk dekat lantai rapat-rapat nak kesat air mata sambil marah diri sendiri. Aku terfikir, kalau one day aku ada anak sendiri, then dia tak sihat, then aku kena stay lama dekat hospital jaga dia, mampu ke aku? 

And how much does it take to be a good mother?

Hospital Trip (Part 1)

 Benda ni dah jadi few months lepas lagi, tapi masa baca Crying in H Mart bab 13, A Heavy Hand, baru rasa the real urge to write this down. Tapi tulah, still jugak tak tulis terus considering how I’m only writing this now. This is going to be looong one, this time, I don’t want to write in restraint.

Masatu aku tengah tengok movie Our Friend kat dapur. Tak pernah-pernah tengok movie kat dapur, tapi malam tu rasa nak berubah angin. Dah dekat separuh cerita tu, tak berhenti pulak air mata aku jatuh. Terkesan dengan the depiction of witnessing the death of your loved one, tapi yang paling rasa kena dengan diri sendiri, the selfless, kindest friend. It shows how kadang serapat mana pun kita dengan orang tu, yang kita even anggap as family, kita tak tahu pun sebenarnya dia pun suffer secretly, tapi dia still tolong orang sekeliling dia as if, with the act of kindness, it helps him to stay afloat.

Dah hujung-hujung movie, makin lebat pulak air mata aku jatuh. Aku tak seka sebab semua macam sibuk kat luar. Tiba-tiba keadaan jadi gamat sebab mama call babah daripada hospital cakap Hurin, adik aku yang paling bongsu kena tahan kat hospital, tak boleh balik. Babah pass phone kat aku, suruh mama cakap sendiri dengan aku nak mintak tolong pack kan barang dia. Aku pun ambil mana patut then babah call mama balik, bagitahu biar aku je lah yang jaga Hurin. Mama tak payah.

Aku dengar tu, aku dah cuak sebab aku tak tahu nak expect apa. Mostly sebab aku tak pernah jaga orang kat hospital. Mata aku basah lagi masa tu, tapi rasa banyaknya benda nak proses at one time. Then aku unpack barang mama then start packing barang aku. Aku dah tak boleh senyum, tak boleh nak bercakap sebab aku cuak. Lepas tu babah gesa aku cepat sikit sebab dah nak gerak tapi phone aku pulak tak jumpa kat mana. Sempatlah aku grab buku Crying in H Mart sumbat masuk dalam tote bag hitam aku.

Sampai hospital, aku duduk diam je kat tempat menunggu tu. Aku tak tahu nak expect apa. Mama dengan kakak aku nampak penat. Mama lah terutamanya. Dorang kat hospital since maghrib. Ingatkan Hurin demam biasa, rupanya ada jangkitan kuman kat paru-paru dia. Nafas pun pendek sebab dia ada asthma. Then kakak aku panggil aku, bagitahu kena daftar kat meja depan.

Then lepas tunggu kejap, dah boleh masuk, mama masuk sekali dengan aku. Hurin ada kat katil, tak tidur, nampak alert gila walaupun dia nampak penat. Mama pujuk Hurin, cakap mama kena balik dulu. Aku kat sebelah, literally choking in tears. Aku lemah lah bab-bab ni. Suara mama dah bercampur penat, berat hati, nak nangis semua. Bila mama betul-betul dah nak pergi tu, aku hulur tangan salam, memang tak cakap apa-apa. Mama cakap apa pun, aku angguk-angguk ja daripada tadi sebab tahu, ni kalau keluar sepatah je dari mulut aku, melimpah habis air mata sekali. Aku tak pernah suka separation, tak kisah lah besar ke kecil, sebab aku kena hadap keadaan aku macam tu lah, and memang tak boleh nak bercakap langsung padahal dalam kepala dah siap skrip. Bye pun tak boleh nak cakap.

 

Aku serba tak kena, berdiri, squat, bersila, semua rasa salah. Aku risau tapi at the same time aku cuak sebab tak tahu nak expect apa. And sampai bila sebenarnya kat sini. Ada pak cik sebelah katil Hurin, dah terlena. Aku pujuk Hurin tidur lah, sebab dah lewat. Aku cakap kat dia, aku ada, tak pergi jauh. Nanti cepat sihat, cepat kita balik, Hurin boleh jumpa mama. Sedihnya tengok budak sakit, lagi-lagi adik sendiri. Aku gosok perlahan lengan dia, pujuk dia tidur.

Bila dia dah tidur, aku duduk atas lantai sambil cuba bertenang and simply absorb semua benda sekeliling aku. Then ada nurse panggil kejap untuk swab test. Gila tak selesa. Lama jugak discomfort tu lingers. Aku duduk balik and tengok sekeliling. Aku perhatikan pak cik sebelah lena, dah nangis balik aku. Kemudian aku cakap, tak boleh jadi ni, kena distract diri, then aku bukak buku and baca. I can’t seem to focus tapi aku paksa jugak baca.

Lama sikit lepas tu, dua orang nurse datang cakap nak buat swab test pada Hurin. Aku kejut Hurin perlahan then dia nampak je nurse, dia dah nangis kuat-kuat. Kalau aku yang dah besar pun rasa sakit tak selesa, apa lagi budak macam dia. Nurse bagitahu, aku kena pegang dia. Aku pegang biasa je lah, takde lah kuat sangat, sekali nurse tu tekan kepala adik aku kuat gila, aku dah terdiam. Aku faham sebab adik aku melawan and tak nak bukak mulut and hidung dia, tapi apa dia buat tu, macam tak kena. Suara aku dah start sound very desperate, nervous, helpless, pujuk Hurin bagi kerjasama. Sekali nurse tu give up and cakap kuat-kuat, ‘suka hati lah’. Dia membebel kuat kuat  sepanjang dia berjalan pergi. Aku dah rasa defeated gila.

In Control

 You know what I was thinking when I saw all the bottles were not in places which I had arranged?

Rage. Holding it back. Pausing.

That I had to pause to get a grip of myself.

Sometimes, the burning, bitter taste of rage felt almost shocking (if not refreshing) in my throat, which I never thought I’m capable of such a strong emotion.

I despise it when my stuff is not in their place, exactly like how I arranged it.

I hate it even more when people touch my belongings, which these two happened to be closely related. Sure, there were certain cases I could absolutely tolerate but longer pausing was always required.

Talking about this reminds me of that young man.

We were on a bus, on our way to the main stop for most of us, and because of the sudden halt, most of my books came crashing down to the floor from the seat, which was a few feet away from me. I looked defeatedly at the books, letting out a deep sigh, weighing in if I should go and set them right again, but I didn’t feel like moving.

He stood and moved deliberately toward my books. 

Right before he was able to touch my books, I said almost menacingly,

“Don’t touch it. I’ll do it myself.”

I remember how cold I sounded like. 

I hated myself for acting that way but I was even more ashamed when I caught him smiling, amusingly over my reaction, before he retreated back to his seat. 

I felt stupid over my defensiveness of such random act of kindness. Why I always make it hard for people to be just kind to me?

Maybe because I hate it when people do something nice for me when I am capable of doing it for myself, or maybe because I hate it when I am not in control of things in my control. And maybe because I hate the idea of unpredictability. 

Sagu

 We finally ate the dessert mum made yesternight. The gravy alone was excellent.

I keep putting on hold from continuing reading I’ll Go On, only when I've finally found my pace, and really digging into it.

In the evening, we sat in the calmness of Tuesday evening before she stood and went to her garden, and repotted a few of her plants to give away to her newly wedded daughter; my sister. She asked me to find her the hoe, and couldn’t find it since yesterday. I went to the back of the house with my little sister and still couldn't find it.

Mum funnily said something that made the three of us laugh, out of incomprehension. Something about my incapability to trace back things.

Later, she found the hoe herself at the other side of the house.

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There were six repotted plants, ready to be located.

I also took some of my little sister’s portraits, asked her to look right into the camera and gave her the biggest smile possible, showing her toothless front teeth. I always wanted to snap some pictures of her, specifically in that state, to freeze the moment, so there’s something she could look back on when she grows older.

And amusingly, a fraction of clouds in the sky looked like a brine water shrimp. Or more accurately, a krill, considering the position of the body. I always think of the shape of clouds as light entertainment from God, drawing smiles on our faces.

And looking up/gazing into the sky, I was wondering if Abang, my younger brother, has ever missed how the sky at home (here) looks differently from where he is.

I sighed despondently at the thought of it. 

What My Bones Know (A Book Review)

 

You know I’ll never shut up about this one particular book here. This book, is what feels like a true writing for me. I REPEAT, A TRUE WRITING. Lets not talk about the exquisite content first, lets talk about how she writes. Im keenly thankful for her background in journalism which i think, is one of the true reasons she’s able to craft her tale so well. I got the rare satisfaction reading this (THAT RARE-PUAS-NIAN FEELING) and she made such a heavy theme, very much readable if not enjoyable. (I am truly guilty to use the word enjoyable here, just so you know, it feels so wrong that i cringed at my usage of words). And, reading her words, you’ll feel how palpable her thirst for answers, that I was left with no more questions in my head. (She even answered all the questions i had with my previous read!)

Now, the content. She talked about her harrowing childhood that made me freeze as a statue in my seat. Imagine wasn’t being able to feel safe, but always on edge with your own parents. The axe in the bed scene, I gasped and recoiled like I was watching a thriller film. Her trauma journey had dawned me with a humbling realisation that how God has created us, so much more resilient than we think we are (and being reminded with that fact, again and again, always makes me cry with mounted of hopes). 

And I promise to myself to get the hardcopy no matter what.

Stillness of Night

So, i was standing in the middle of nowhere, in the midst of night, longing for the next day to come. I stood there, simply allowing myself to be in the moment, to relish in the music of night, the sounds of the crickets in the background. How I never thought I will miss it whenever I am in the city, how the sound indicates peacefulness and has a languid air to it.

I was staring in the dark, mind miles away, and I was thinking about night walks. How it feels like an intimate act and how I always yearn for it. I made a mental note to employ the very act in my future relationship. It is healthy and carries a depth to it. I couldn't remember the source but our prophet (pbuh) also employed the very same act with his wife, walking with her in the middle of night, talking and discussing about things.

 Sky was dark without any presence of stars, which indicated it might rain again tomorrow. The night gentle breeze came blowing, felt like a soft patting to my cheeks, which made me smile and leaning, left me (already) yearning for the second waves of it. And I was thinking about how much our younger generation are missing out these days, compared to the old times. This very time has made it very challenging for them to simply be in the moment, without comparing, worrying about whatnots. And how it downs to us adults, to teach them how certain things are best enjoyed in the traditional ways.

I finished reading a book on vulnerability last night and it still had me ponder on hope, and what it actually means. I still need time to process about the whole thing as it was new to me. I only know that hope what keeps us going for all this time. 

And how it truly takes courage to be vulnerable, which to spell it out, it's never an easy thing to do, (no surprise) but it's the only way, the first path we need to take to be able to relish in a meaningful life. Because connection is what gives us meaning in life, and what life without meaning? A void, dark, lonely life. We are wired for connection which makes it natural for us wanting to belong. Everything is intricately related. And about being vulnerable, surely we can't be vulnerable with just anyone, and if that happens, it indicates desperation. Those people need to earn it and we need to be sure they can take the weight of the pouring. And how I have some debating thoughts on these two things.

And I am glad to know that my own thoughts on vulnerability wasn't actually diverged from the true meaning of it, and how this book is a huge extension to it.

Wedding

 ‘Kau happy?’

‘Happy.’ *sengih lebar

Aku pun tak sure kenapa aku nak sangat tanya soalan tu, sedangkan terang-terang boleh nampak how well she emanated the happiness, that her radiance was almost reflecting, blinding even. Maybe the point of asking her such an objective question was actually to confirm. As if spoken words will put a seal to all the lingering questions. And I wasn’t actually asking how she felt in the moment, because I could tell that much from her face, a few days after her wedding.

‘Kau… Kau pernah seek that kind of help?’

Kalau soalan tadi, aku tanya sebab aku nak kepastian, soalan ni, I was simply betrayed by my deep curiosity. I had blurted it out of control, and that question was never in my plan. I remember how my heart skipped a beat in between my question and her answer. Thinking what if I couldn’t handle the truth? What if it was too much for her to speak the truth? 

She was smiling when she said,

‘Hey, aku okay lah. Aku okay.’

Her tone reflected such tenderness, and reassurance, and it’s hard not to be comforted with her answer.

But wait, she wasn’t even answering my question.

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The night before her wedding, lepas dia dah siap pakai inai apa semua, dia masuk bilik siap-siap nak tidur. Aku tanya, nak tukar cadar tak, kalau tak, aku tukarkan. Masa tu aku sedar yang it’s been awhile since the last time we talked.

The last time we talked, gila aku tak ingat. It was intense. The image of her fighting back tears, saying what if he thought she doesn’t really love him because the decision she made?

‘Hell if I don’t love him, but I’m just the type who doesn’t really show it.’ That’s what she said.

I cried a bucket that night on the bus.

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Berbalik pada tadi. Bila aku dah siap tukar cadar, sarung bantal semua, dia naik katil. Dia nampak dah mengantuk sangat.  And her next question simply caught me off guard.

‘Kau tidur mana malam ni? Tidurlah sini kalau kau nak.’

Lepastu aku cakap okay, tapi nanti sikit aku masuk. I didn’t see the invitation coming sebab aku ingat, dia nak tidur sorang, lagi-lagi malam before dia nikah.

Sebenarnya, dari masa dia tunang dulu lagi aku dah tak senang duduk, sebab aku fikir, bila dia dah nikah, I can’t have all of her dah. I know she’s never really mine, she’s only my sister but the thought was overwhelming enough. I wrote about this extensively in one of my letters. Aku kept thinking mana aku nak pergi, apa aku nak buat so that nanti aku tak payah pergi wedding dia. Pastu suara dalam kepala aku akan counter, don’t be stupid aini, you’re a family. Masa kakak atas dia nikah pun, aku nangis macam apa je belakang langsir sorang-sorang.

Some people said, kita paling kurang are allowed to cry at wedding, graduation & funeral. Masalahnya aku ni, kalau budak senyum dekat aku pun aku dah berair mata, kalau dekat tiga ni, lagi lah haru.

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Aku keluar bilik dia then aku masuk balik, tanya nak pakai sheet mask tak? Aku ada yang Kayman dengan Isntree. Lepastu bila tanya, rupanya dia tak pakai apa-apa pun kat muka dia. Aku cakaplah, kalau macam tu, pakai Kayman lah. Sebab dia macam all-in-one. Aku ada banyak, so aku ingat nak habiskan je. Dia cakap dia tak larat dah nak bangun, pastu aku cakap takpelah, nanti dah cukup masa aku datang cabutkan. Aku pakaikan sheet mask tu kat muka dia, sambil dalam kepala humming dreamily, then aku keluar bilik.

Dah habis kemas bilik depan, aku pergi ruang tamu nak lipat baju. Masatu dah pukul 2 pagi jugak. Awal-awal lipat baju tu, aku rasa aku okay lagi. Tiba-tiba dada aku dah rasa constricted gila, rasa tak tahan dah, berhambur lagi air mata aku. It felt all too much at once. Entahlah dah berapa lama aku tahan sampai macam tu sekali. Dan aku fikir, biar je lah aku nangis tengah pagi ni, daripada nangis esok hari. Dah reda sikit, aku raup muka, to get a grip of myself, tapi makin ribut pulak. Aku fikir, nangislah aini habiskan, tapi tangan still kena jalan lah, kalau tak pukul berapa kau nak tidur ni. Kalau ikutkan hati, nak je aku baring, and curled in a fetus-like position, but obviously, I couldn’t afford that. Not even that.

"My capacity for weeping is really becoming grotesque affliction"

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Aku bukak pintu bilik dia perlahan dan duduk kejap tepi katil, nak make sure aku betul-betul dah bertenang. Kau tahu dalam kepala aku, aku fikir apa malam tu sampai majlis esoknya?

Yang all I want is to look at her, really took her in, carved the image of her permanently in my brain, but I couldn’t. It felt way too much for me just to do that. Touching her was of course out of question. I couldn’t handle that, I don’t think I can, and I just don’t wanna risk anything. It’s just too unbearable just really to look at her, looking right into her eyes, and really took her in.

Aku letak kepala dekat bantal, then kejap je lepastu aku dah lena. It was a damn good sleep walaupun tak sampai 3 jam tidur. Tidur yang sekejap je, tapi bila kau bangun tu, kau rasa dah lama kau tidur. I don’t remember she’s a rough sleeper tapi boleh tahan jugak dia tendang, tolak muka, sondol, and tolak badan aku malam tu. Tak larat nak alih dah.

Tapi kan, aku rasa memang ada beza lah bila kau tidur dengan orang yang kau rasa selasa to be with, dengan tak.

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Few minutes before subuh, mama kejut tanya mana aku letak kerisik. Aku cakap ada aku alih, aku letak dalam peti sejuk. Kemudian aku bangun, siap-siap nak solat Subuh. Lepas solat, tengok luar, ingatkan Ezhar dah sampai, belum jugak. Aku pergi ruang depan, kemudian aku ada bau tak sedap. Bedebah punya kucing, kau boleh berak dekat beranda yang orang dah siap-siap susun?!

Jadi awal pagi tu, kerja aku sental lantai beranda sampai aku puas hati. Kemudian aku kemas bahagian bawah sikit-sikit. Tengah-tengah aku kemas, Abang Pian datang, bawak sekotak oren. Banyaknya oren!

Aku berdiri kejap depan tangga, jenguk bahagian belakang rumah. Nampak mama mintak Abang Pian rasa, okay tak lagi lauk yang dia tengah kacau. Aku dah tarik senyum. Mama ni, semua orang dia mintak rasa. Kejap lagi, Abang Pian pulak tolong kacau kawah.

Masatu aku teringat, merde, aku terlupa, I was supposed to film all these, especially that; mama and babah looked really honored to prepare all the food from scratch. Bila aku tengok dorang, I could really see that, honour and pride. And that made me smile.

Oh c’mon, you’re not wondering if I helped or not, aren’t you? 

Bila tengok mama, I remember that I caught a glimpse of her being overwhelmed yesternight. Such a range of emotions she wore on her face last night. Mom was obviously nervous and tense. She went to sleep early and I was imagining she cried to sleep. And that image of her brought me back to what Babah said a day before, that it has been days since the last time he was able to sleep at night, as he was obviously wired the whole week before the wedding.

That makes me think, how much it takes to be a parent?

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Kemudian aku masuk rumah and pergi basuh pinggan untuk tetamu nak guna nanti. Aku dah tak boleh nak rasa pinggang aku, tapi aku fikir takpe, tak lama dah nak habis. Siap yang tu, aku masuk dapur, keep cleaning whatever there was that needed to be cleaned. In a way, to keep myself distracted jugak.

Akad took place around 11 tak silap, and a few minutes before akad tu, the cool Najiah tiba-tiba gelabah teruk, siap jerit tak nak kahwin. Kak Hajar nampak nervous gila dari awal dia sampai, sampailah Najiah nak akad. Akad went smoothly, alhamdulillah, and I still couldn’t really look at her like I want to. There was one time, she looked at me and smiled nervously. I asked God, how could someone to be that gleaming and saccharine at the same time?

Everything went well, alhamdulillah, si monmon siap tak lepas tangan al-Jarrah masa dorang atas pelamin lepas selamat kahwin! Monmon nampaknya semakin tidak menghormati mereka yang sendiri seperti saya! Jkjk. All that matters if she’s happy, and she obviously is, and that’s enough for me.

AND! The teary aini didn’t cry at all. AT ALL, ALL DAY! And it took her another few days for all the pain in her legs to go away, but God, I think, it’s all worth it.

p/s: There’s surely a continuation to this, I’m still working on it in my head, and had decided, will only include that in my letter, not to the public.

p/s/s: I’m thinking if I should write about the chairs of theirs, which was hilarious enough for me. 

 

Kerutuk

‘Iah, apa beza kerutuk dengan rendang?’

‘Rempah dia, cara masak pun lain sikit.’

‘Sebab dua tu macam lebih kurang je kan. Warna pun lebih kurang.’

‘Haah lebih kurang tapi iah suka kerutuk.’

Selain ikan goreng pedas, iftar harini ada itik masak kerutuk dengan kari kambing. Sampingan tu, ada lah roti goreng, telur pindang dengan buah oren.

Sebut pasal kari kambing, itu sebenarnya kari kambing yang mama bekukan dari majlis kahwin Najiah haritu. Aku tak makan sangat kambing tapi yang ni, memang sedap. Flavorful betul. Rasa dia betul-betul nak dekat sama dengan kari kambing arwah Tok Chik pernah masakkan dulu untuk majlis kahwin Kekra.

Mama yang masakkan kerutuk, kitaorang dua tolong sikit-sikit.

Mama cakap kerisik kalau beli dapat sikit je, baik buat sendiri, bukan payah.

Aku teringat kerisik yang mama tanya aku awal pagi sebelum subuh, hari Najiah nikah. Hari sebelum tu, aku ada alih, simpan dekat lain. Bila ingat balik, betul lah, bekasnya kecik ja.

‘Nah, cuba rasa ni. Okay tak lagi?’

‘Ipah tak nak. Mintak iah rasakan.’

‘Tak rasa lagi ni ma. Pedas je baru rasa.’

Kali ketiga tu, aku pulak yang rasa. Lagi sikit nak rasa ngam tu. Mama dah macam was-was,

‘Betul ke korang ni. Nanti terlebih masin, jaga.’

Hahaha, dapat amaran kecil. Tapi bab rasa merasa ni, memang aku yakin. Tapi bab tu je lah.

Tiba-tiba Najiah lesap. Tadi ada dengar lagi suara dia sayup-sayup, ni dah hilang terus. Aku fikir, dia dah dekat bawah lahtu, sambut Abu balik.

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Bila semua dah siap berbuka, aku masuk dapur. Kemudian Najiah datang duduk, teman aku makan.

Dia bangun balik, tanya aku nak air tak. Aku cakap tak nak sebab kalau dia tolong ambilkan, mesti dia ambil air sejuk. Lepastu dia gelak, cakap kenapa sebelum ni tak bagitahu. Dia ambil cawan kuning, isikan air masak biasa.  

 Aku jenis tak pandai nak menolak, pulak tu, preferences air masak aku je dah panjang mana kalau nak bagitahu. Tapi kalau orang dah bagi, kita hargai hee.

I don’t want to get used to these simple yet reassuringly nice gestures of her; sitting there, taking her time waiting for me to finish eating, taking the empty cup and refill it with water for me. I think it shows how at first I seemed gawky at this but I didn’t let that to dampen the warmth bubbling inside me, and how I’m savoring, relishing every moment I spent with her.

It is that simple but enough to make me all teary, only by the remembrance of it. I’m not used to it, and never want to get used to it.

I always feel this sort of urgency whenever I talk to her. I’m not sure if it’s reflected in my tone and how I never quite like it. It can feel a little bit too much at times. But truly, I like being in her presence. I like it when we sit and talk. When she talks to me with a genuine sense of acknowledgement, teasing each other, and me making lame jokes just to fish the laughter out of her.

‘Kerutuk kalau jual kat kedai tak sama tau. Kalau yang dekat kedai, warna dia biasa lagi gelap, lepastu lebih kepada manis dan tak pedas macam mama buat.’

‘Kejap nak rasa, sebab ipah tak ingat rasa kerutuk macam mana.’

Aku cubit sikit daging itik masak kerutuk dan suap perlahan. Sedap! Cukup rasa. Boleh rasa a hint of toasted coconut tu. Hah! I knew it was never a false confidence that I held, whenever it comes to food.

‘Macam mana?’

‘Sedap! Cukup rasa. Ada rasa coconutty.’

Najiah dah tarik senyum sambil buat muka geram cakap nak pukul aku sebab hujung ayat aku tu, saja aku simpulkan dengan nada mintak siku.

Sebelum aku sambung habiskan makan, aku jerit,

‘Ma! Sedap kerutuk ni!’

(p/s: lupaa nak ambil gambar kerutuk semalam!)

3 November 2022