Friday, May 29, 2015

aku antagonis drama malaya

Tadi Alang whatsapp aku. Baru kejap tadi.

"abah dok tye mu xde kabar ape pun dah keje ni."

Dan benda ni buat aku terfikir; kalau aku ni adalah watak drama melayu, mesti aku akan jadi antara watak anak durhaka yang tinggal abah tinggal saudara semata-mata nak kerja harta dunia. Haha.

Mungkin aku lama-lama akan jadi macam tu. 

Anak tak sedar diuntung, anak lupa jasa, anak yang tinggal abah dekat rumah kebajikan bila dah tua. Orang mengadili. Orang nampak bukti yang ada depan mata -- seorang abah yang terasa. Seorang abah yang sedih sebab anak nombor empat dia jarang sangat nampak muka.

Sedangkan, dalam minda aku, aku rasa aku antara anak yang dah cukup baik dah untuk sesiapa. Persepsi, kan? Kalau ikutkan personaliti, memang persepsi aku dekat diri sendiri macam tu lah. Sebab aku ingat definisi anak baik ni adalah anak yang tak tinggal mak abah dalam doa lepas solat, anak yang tak keluar dengan lelaki bukan mahram bila berjauhan dengan famili, anak yang sentiasa fikirkan apa yang abah akan rasa kalau aku buat itu, kalau aku buat ini.

Rupanya definisi anak yang baik lain-lain bagi orang. Bagi Abah, anak yang baik adalah anak yang selalu balik kampung. Anak yang selalu telefon. Anak yang selalu bertingkah lidah dengan dia sebab konon nak kongsi idea. Anak yang cakap sayang selalu dekat dia.

Maaflah anak keempat ni janggal. Pelik sikit. Kadang-kadang dia lupa abah dia semakin tua, semakin senang terasa hati. Kadang-kadang dia rasa dia dah terlalu dewasa nak melayan benda-benda remeh macam ni. Maklumlah, dia tempuh alam dewasa tanpa seorang mama nak menegur itu ini. Wanita yang jadi role model satu masa dulu pun dah tak patut dicontohi.

Tapi tak apa, nanti anak ni akan cuba lagi. Abah jangan kecil hati.

Tadi reply balik whatsapp Alang;

"Ape nombor baru abah."



Benny
29 May 2015.

Wednesday, May 27, 2015

haunted

I pity the woman who will love you when I am done. She will show up to your first date with a dustpan and broom, ready to pick up all the pieces I left you in. She will hear my name so often it will begin to dig holes in her.

That is where doubt will grow.

She will look at your neck, your thin hips, your mouth, wondering at the way I touched you. She will make you all the promises I did and some I never could. She will only hear the terrible stories. How I drank. How I lied.

She will wonder (as I have) how someone as wonderful as you could love a monster like the woman who came before her. Still, she will compete with my ghost.

She will understand why you do not look in the back of closets. Why you are afraid of what's under the bed. She will know every corner of you is haunted by me.


Monday, May 18, 2015

because one day i might get hit by a bus

I love being horribly straighforward.

I love sending reckless text messages (because how reckless can a form of digitized communication can be?) and telling people I love them and telling people they are absolutely magical humans ans I cannot believe they really exist. I love saying 'Kiss me harder,' 'You're a good person,' and 'You brighten my day.' I live my life as straight-forward as possible.

Because one day, I might get hit by a bus.

Maybe it's weird. Maybe it's scary. Maybe it seems downright impossible to just be -- to just let people know you want them, need them, feel like, in this very moment, you will die if you do not see them, hold them, touch them in some way whether it's your feet on their thighs on the couch or your tongue in their mouth or your heart in their hands.

But there is nothing more beautiful than being desperate.

And there is nothing more risky than pretending not to care.

We are young and we are humans and we are beautiful and we are not as in control as we think we are. We never know who needs us back. We never know the magic that can arise between ourselves and other humans.

We never know when the bus is coming.

(Rachel C. Lewis; Tell The People You Love That You Love Them.)