Saturday, 29 September 2012


I shall be killed. I shall be killed.

I shall be killed because I am different from anyone else. I am being dragged through this cobbled street, with only my already thin and damaged clothes separating my peeled skin from the hard ground. I am numb. They have already beaten me in the prison. I am weak, but I still hold on.

The caravan that pulls me moves ever so slowly through the crowd. Some of them throw little stones at me. Little stones, they are told not to murder me, yet. Just a moment ago, a beautiful child came to me and kicked me hard in the shin. He roared, “let’s see if hell’s gonna receive you!”

I smiled at him. He didn’t understand.

The caravan stops in the middle of a piazza. A towering obelisk is located in the middle. In front of it is a stage. My death is an entertainment show for everyone else. A person approaches me and picks me mercilessly. He brings me up on the stage and throws me like I’m just a mannequin. I think I am one.

I lay lifeless. My eyes only see the sky above me, but my ears listen to an announcement. It goes like this:

My people, we are gathered today to witness the execution of a defector. If he is your family, your son, your husband, your father, your friend, I must tell you this: from this moment, you shall forget all that. He is not to be remembered and his name is not worthy to be spoken of.

According to the report given to us, the sin that contributes to the execution of this defector is the possession of a holy book. His house was visited by the members of the Department at 1.30pm in the thirtieth day of the fifth month for the compulsory monthly peacekeeping check of Division 7. This defector was trying to hide the book, but fortunately, he was caught.

People, be happy to know that the book is now just ashes. What is God, my People? It’s nothing but an ancient belief, an inhibitor to our progress and modernity. We are the Gods. Look at us, what we have achieved are all because of our own ingenuity and hard-work.

As for the defector, he shall be disposed for he is unworthy of our peaceful existence. His life shall end in the same way as the book.

The end of the speech is met with a great uproar and applause. I am not the People. I am disposable. I am put above an altar. I shall perish, but I am aware this is not an end. This will be a beginning, and it starts with the words: burn him!

I look up as the tongues of the flame turn into a monster. I look up and in that hell, I see the heaven.

Friday, 28 September 2012

Using It

Hey there!

Let’s say you accidentally listen to someone who is speaking in English, but unfortunately his language is limited and the way he speaks is improper, what will you do? What will you feel?

For some, they will say that the person should refrain himself from using the language because of these two reasons: he is being stupid and he is being a show-off.

First of all, I don’t think people want to show their stupidity in the first place – well, a really stupid kind of stupidity – anyway, no one comes on top in their first trial of anything new. Learning a new language is not easy for some people. What we should do is really to applaud them for trying to use it in the public. Yes, mistakes are bound to happen, but hey, we are humans, we make mistakes… and one mistake that we always make is not daring to shed our embarrassment/fear and do anything that we really want to do.

Really, rather than being a pessimist and stopping someone from practicing their English because of the many errors they make, wouldn’t it be better if we just take part and converse with them? Encouragement and support [and corrections and advice from us] are all they need.

[At the same time, even if you don’t fear to speak with inappropriate English on the first place, try to learn and be ever better in the next time, it won’t hurt you]

Thursday, 27 September 2012


In the end, you determine your life. No one else can do it for you.

Sunday, 16 September 2012


You right there, yes, you. Stop! Just stop!

1. Stop saying that you’re not beautiful

2. Stop saying that you’re a nobody in this world

3. Stop saying that no one loves you

The main thing is: stop feeling so fucking hateful of yourself. Do you really have to care about what other people are/were saying about you? You should be yourself and stop changing yourself for the sake of the others. They don’t live your life, you do. You could be awkward, weird, be as happy as you want.

You know why? Because there is someone out there who really loves you, who adores you, who wants to be with you. It doesn’t have to be romantic, it could just be platonic. You just have to realise that you are loved.

God will not give you a soul if he doesn’t install any plans in your life.

TYPO52 Week 12: CITIES

Urban areas fascinate me in many ways. The culture, the architecture, the vibe.

Saturday, 15 September 2012

Part 4

Hi there!

This is an update of my life in UiTM Shah Alam and INTEC. First thing first, my current residence now is Cendana College. Let’s just say I love Cemara more than Cendana. That thing aside, PART 4 seems to be an interesting semester. Literature is attacking me this time! Three courses related to that thing, but I love literature! Haha~

Here's the list of the courses I'm taking this semester!


TSL653 is the most interesting subject so far, and hey, we now have a new sensei for Japanese Language. Looks like a gangster from the outside, but he’s cool! Literature Appreciation (actually Apresiasi Sastera) is the co-curriculum course that I’ve taken for this semester and it is in BM rather than English. Oh well… that’s all!

Tuesday, 11 September 2012

Burning Kyiv

    I am a pilgrim
On repentance

A walker, in a sorrow city

            a destroyed
        Virgin Mary
    torn pages of
                      a bible
on the floor of
a dying place
a cathedral
   on fire

         Of final crucifixion

The last sermon
    the last sins of
      our forefathers
         paid in blood
            paid in sacrifices

And at last
   he says
      “I fear
        we’ve lost God”

Monday, 10 September 2012

Memoirs: Re-imagination

Memoirs of an Imaginary Friend
This is a self-made cover of the novel that I really love. ^^ More info about this and more on my deviantArt

Friday, 7 September 2012


An advice from Siddhartha Gautama Buddha. Really think it’s true. We have so many free times in our life, but we left the things that we are supposed to do until tomorrow. In the end, we scramble to finish them at the eleventh hour. When will we learn?

Tuesday, 4 September 2012

Memoirs of an Imaginary Friend

Matthew Green | Memoirs of an Imaginary Friend

From the looks of its cover, you may interpret this novel as a novel for teenager/children. When you read the excerpt at the back, you will realise that the main characters of this story are an imaginary friend named Budo and his imaginer friend, Max. I should tell you that this book is anything but a book for teenagers or children. The story is far from being childish.

The story revolves around Budo, who looks like any other boy except for the fact that he’s an imaginary friend who has existed for five years. That is a long time for ‘people’ like him. His imaginer friend is a problematic eight-years-old Max. Imaginary friends [like Budo] watches over children [like Max] until they stop imagining their imaginary friends. In his school, Max is one odd kid, his parents think he has a problem since Max acts unlike other normal children, but Max loves the way he is, and Budo knows it very well. Still, a day comes when one dreadful incident occurs, and while Max’s parents and other people are helpless, Budo knows the truth and is forced to bring Max out of an impending calamity – a calamity that may break the life of Max’s dad and mom… and put an end to Budo’s own existence.

I think I’ve never seen a book that has an imaginary friend as the storyteller. This basically makes the story unique. The author has painstakingly given us the characteristics that enable us to realise ‘what is an imaginary friend’. Budo has only existed for five years, but he is way beyond his age. He is worried about his life and it does tick with us. We’re walking in this world, living, wondering where we will go the next day. The only difference: our life is not as precarious as the existence of Budo.

The relationship between Budo and Max is what propels this story the most. It’s not about Budo trying to help Max to a better kid – it’s about Budo’s determination to just be with Max whenever he needs him, because Max, as Budo tells us, is his God, his creator. It’s also about the life of Budo. It’s a book about him, an imaginary friend who doesn’t want to be forgotten and die like so many others. Of course other characters stand out too, namely Mrs. Gosk [I’d love to be in her class], Max’s Dad and Mom, and Oswald, especially Oswald.

There are moments in the story that will pull you in. Some are funny, some are sad, some are suspenseful, some are poignant. Some may hurt you, especially that one scene involving Mom and Dad. I think that one just rips my heart to pieces and I don’t even know why. Besides that, this book is really clever with its lines. Many are thought-provoking or sharp-witted. A lot of those thoughts contrast with the way Budo tells his story: simple and straightforward, but I can understand that.

If you want a heartwarming story with just the prefect dosage of every emotion… and a whole lot of imagination, then this book is for you.

[Suddenly, I find myself wanting to have Budo. Oh well]

EAT @ El-Edrus

There’s a new restaurant in the town, and it’s called El-Edrus. I think you could safely assume that it serves Middle-eastern cuisine. Well, it’s really hard to find foreign cuisine in Terengganu, so I was very pleased to eat there. Haha~ Here are the photos of the dishes that my family and yours truly ate [I was planning on writing 'devoured' but that word was like 'extra-gluttonous' in its definition... haha~]
 This is Madghout Lamb. Basically it is charcoal-cooked lamb and the rice is cooked with briyani spices.
 This one is Mandy Lamb, another type of charcoal-cooked lamb with the rice soaking up the meat juice. My mom had this one.
 Hummus is a staple dish in the Arabic cuisine. Hummus is mashed chickpeas mixed with tahini [or sesame seed] sauce with olive oil. It's a little bit tangy and nutty.
This is my cup of Arabic tea. It has unknown spices in it, well, unknown to me. This makes a nice thirst-quencher.

There are two branches of the restaurant in Kuala Terengganu District: one is in Ladang, KT South, and the other in Gong Badak, KT North. If you’re a gastronomic adventurer or just like to savour good food, why don’t you give this restaurant a try?

Monday, 3 September 2012


I am intrigued by this question: would you rather be hurt by the one you trust the most or the one you love the most? Love and trust: these two virtues usually go hand in hand, don’t they? You can’t love someone if you don’t trust them.

But I don’t think you love and trust someone on the same level. You can love a person but your trust is not as high. Likewise, you can trust someone with your life, but you don’t love him or her as much. Think of a family or friend or your special someone. Sometimes, you don’t even share your problems with your mom or dad or brothers or sisters, but you choose your best friends, or that one guy/girl.

Does that show that you don’t love your family? Maybe not. It just show that you like to vent your trust towards people who are your age, the people who you think connect with you the most due to the similar backgrounds and experience. You still love your family, you just don’t think they will understand.

Still, if a bickering among friends or break-up happens, it may seem as if you might have given your trust to the wrong party, but will that hurt be as disruptive as being hurt from your family? This is the time when you’ll realise deep down the people who you really trust and love more.

On the way to mercury

On the way to
And I’m trailing
Behind a deluge
Of comet dust

I see the sun
Blinding me
The heat, the ray
Such intensity

I’m in a trajectory
Moving as light
And gravity pulls
Me closer in

I shall end with my
Own orbit
Around the star
An eternity


There’s one thing that I really find quite damaging to any relationship: Not talking to people. Yeap, not talking, especially to the person you like the least. Are you insane? What are you doing to your life? Just because you think he or she did something wrong, you quickly deduced that the person’s action was irreversible and intolerable, and to show that ‘rebellious’ side of yours, you are now closing your mouth from ever talking to that person.

I think you better stitch them shut in that matter.

Yeah, maybe some think that silent treatment is the best way to not care about that someone, but do you really think you’ll be all peaceful and zen just by doing that? What if that person is really damn important in your life?

I just can’t fathom certain people.