Five comas.

"From the trembling throats of men,

out through round open lips,

scattered

like an invisible mist

rolling from atop a tower,

high above the sins of the city.

The cry of the azan.

O strange serenade.

Neither happy nor mournful,

you defy definition.

You admonish, yet offer redemption.

You demand work at inconvenient hours,

but in the end, dispense rest.

O aria of hope.

You announce, acapella,

the end of night, the end of darkness,

as it passes into light.

Your stern voice stirs

eyelids of lead;

your melody calms

the quiver of dew-covered leaves

when they are anxious

for the coming of the sun.

O azan.

I knew your meaning

long before I knew your language.

The children understand you

whose parents have learned not to understand you.

You are five commas,

punctuating a day of nonsensical sentences.

Yasmin Ahmad,

Thursday, JuLy 28th 2005

Years and years spend abroad, this too, included in the things-i-missed-the-most list.

Hearing Azan out in the open air echoes in every direction is the luxury we couldn't afford.

Can you do me a small favour? Next time, you hear the calling, can you stop, close your eyes and let you attention drift to the words you've already heard thousands of times before?

And then please tell me, so I won't forget, that thats the only clock worth paying attention to.

Colour parade.

Hello there,

If only you've ever met me, for the last few years, i bet you can agree if i say, 80% of my clothes consist of many layers of black. From my hijab to the very pants -a pitch black. I love colours, or more accurately I used to adore colours, only, not on me.

I find it hard for me to mixed and matched things so that they click. Even when i do, it has taken me forever before i come to the final conclusion. So tired of trying, black offers a perfect gateway. Nothing can ever go wrong with black, or so to speak.

My mom is the one person on earth who comfortably wears colour as if it is her skin. Stepping into her wardrobe, you'll find many shades of blue, green, red, all superimposed one another but never redundant. She can just walk in into the shop knowing which colour of scarf that perfectly suit her baju kurung in which she bought 3 months ago without any help from any external virtual image device. She blends it so well that it is never ever boring to see. As if she has a photo-memory specializing in colours.

Unlike that, I always put a restriction on what colour suits me, and what don'ts. My boyfriend do mention from time to time that I need to wear more cheerful and 'confident-colour' as he puts it. He said i look lovely in colour. I was too fond of black(or grey or dark brown) that forgot why won't I wear coloured clothes (or hijab) in the first place.

Only these past few weeks i thought I'd give it a try. I wear more light and bright hijab (you have NO idea how much strength an courage it required!)- merely to step out of my comfort zone. As for people around me, some responded well, but others think i look weird. And maybe because it has taken a lot of courage out of me that even a slightest sheepish-grinned of disapproval from my friend tempted me to back to black. Allodynic-pain due to otherwise non-painful stimuli. Prejudice aside, I decide to give it sometime for the thought of me in bright colour to settle.

Maybe, just maybe, a change in colour can somewhat help me to be less rigid in the way i view things around me.

So, now tell me, which colour that is best suit you, and make you radiate your best-self?

Much love <3

What now?

A (melancholic) almost stagnant view from psych lect. room

and it rained (a bit)

I'm missing a pouring rain.

Like a real generous pour that some people might find annoying.

I'm missing a lot of things right now.

Help.

Pitter patter

What am i gonna do without you?

Every time you pop in my head,

I sigh, I smile, and I wonder too.

It did not fail me

nor that it ever will.

I'm missing you,

I sincerely do.

I hope you dance.

I hope you never lose your sense of wonder
You get your fill to eat
But always keep that hunger
May you never take one single breath for granted
God forbid love ever leave you empty handed
I hope you still feel small
When you stand by the ocean
Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens
Promise me you'll give faith a fighting chance

And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
I hope you dance
I hope you dance

I hope you never fear those mountains in the distance
Never settle for the path of least resistance
Living might mean taking chances
But they're worth taking
Lovin' might be a mistake
But it's worth making
Don't let some hell bent heart
Leave you bitter
When you come close to selling out
Reconsider
Give the heavens above
More than just a passing glance

And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
I hope you dance
Time is a real and constant motion always
I hope you dance
Rolling us along
I hope you dance
Tell me who
I hope you dance
Wants to look back on their youth and wonder
Where those years have gone

I hope you still feel small
When you stand by the ocean
Whenever one door closes, I hope one more opens
Promise me you'll give faith a fighting chance

And when you get the choice to sit it out or dance
Dance
I hope you dance
I hope you dance
Time is a real and constant motion always
I hope you dance
Rolling us along
I hope you dance
Tell me who
Wants to look back on their youth and wonder
I hope you dance
Where those years have gone)

Tell me who
I hope you dance
Wants to look back on their youth and wonder
Where those years have

Lee Ann Womack

The way body moves to freely to rhythm is after all, gorgeous and affecting.

so peeps. I HOPE YOU DANCE.

HappY week-end.

A strong voice.

Yesterday, I was impressed and touched by the actions of my neighbor’s 13-year-old-boy. He was home alone when the earthquake hit. But instead of hiding, as soon as the earthquake quieted down, he jumped on his bicycle and road around the block repeatedly shouting at the top of his voice, “Is everyone alright? Is everyone okay?” At the time, there were only women and children and the elderly in the homes. I cannot describe how comforting it was just to hear a strong voice asking if I was okay. Thank you!

I was really moved by this comment on twitter.do you?

Japan, my prayer's with you.

Tanx to baby. For the link.

This simple short paragraph made my day.

when your head's at home.

They say, a goal has to be realistic.

While now that I'm far away from him, I took sometimes off to roughly scribble down and things I'd love to do next time I see his handsome most amazing face.( this is, by a mutual agreement of course.)

1) Jalan-jalan in Melaka square.

Picture a white, cozy utterly relaxed and loose bf's t-shirt with a pair of bright coloured flat sandles. He in his charming shorts. Gosh, my heart jumps a little.

2) Roller-blading in park.

yep, just like that! =P

3) Jogging in tracksuit.

4) Teman kamu study for final year exam in UTP's sleek, fancy library.

Better still, I have plenty of room to dream.

This is a quick example, in which distance, can bring people closer.

Till then *___*

Sangat Banyak Cerita Ok.

I don't even know where to begin.

But, bak kata cute colourful poster on my board tepi meja study(hadiah bday from omey), every journey starts with a single step.*motivator tone*. I really hv to start somewhere. Tidak boleh tidak.

So here I am, sitting on my red floor, covered with a comfy purple yoga mat, deciding i should bravely (or finally!) take that first small start. I mean step.

I really envy though, those who can constantly jot down every single detail. Add up a pinch of humor here and there (which might not yet arrive di tempat kejadian) in their blog about their everyday life. What they do in the morning, what food they eat for lunch,what a crap day that day is...owell, u get my point. Consistency is one thing (among so many) that i've been struggling to cope with for the past 23 years. I love to read. Most of you who ever been to my Ikea-showroom-wannbe must have had known that (betui kah grammer?). But the 2nd more important things to do is to be able to write. Wait isn't that what we've been thought since, err.. I dunno, tadika?

The problem is, to take that first FEW small steps is the hardest. No wonder our glucocorticoid level's at peak when we want to geddup from bed every morning. That happens as a response when our body is at stress. Circadian rhythm they call it.The beginning of thing is always hard. And stressful. Some say, it takes 21 days to get on a new habit. 21 days? ? really? then what happen to that 23 years of struggle?!! ok. shouldn't be super-sumptuous. maybe for the past 10 years.

But still, I'm sure (or I hope) I'm not feeling this alone. (nak cari geng)

My college teacher/counselor once told us, that was the inborn trait for excellent students (yes, it's there mapped on your gene n haa! br glabah nk mngaku!). She said that, we all want to be doing things ever so perfectly that we end up doing nothing at all for less. Geddit? Please do.

So there, i pointed out one. That doesn't necessarily implied only to Harvard-graduate-excellency, I think, but to all of us, as well. At least to me. It's human nature to strive to cross that arbitrary line of perfection, but see, it too, can do harms. (i'd love to write a long review on Black Swan touching this perfection business someday*see i'm doing it again!!*T__T).

Whatever the fancy explanation says when you google "how to become a consistent person"

come up, it is all dawn upon us. Yes, YOU.

I sincerely want to do better in this jotting down habit. Maybe nothing much for other's to read. But somehow, this is my own version of buku teks sejarah. My ups and downs. My story.

For you guys who read my random rambling, intentionally or by mere accident, it would means a lot if you guys meninggal kan kesan kat "yoursay box" below. It does makes me wanna write more, if not much, a bit.

So, keep track with me k. We can't waste time simply because we don't own it. It's just something borrowed with a very long interview on how we spend it, at the very end.