Showing posts with label Inkies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Inkies. Show all posts

Tuesday, 25 October 2022

tiada

Kadang-kadang ada sesetengah perkara dalam hidup ini yang buat aku terfikir, adakah aku ini sebenarnya bermakna dalam hidup di dunia ini? Ataupun sebenarnya aku cuma boneka yang hadir untuk melakukan hanya satu fungsi sahaja lalu disimpan rapi jauh di belakang, dilupakan ditingalkan berdebu? Adakah aku puncanya, adakah aku yang menyebabkan diri aku sendiri tersisih, dan aku akui itu pernah berlaku, akan tetapi aku bisa lepas dan aku mendapat orang yang aku percayai, insan yang boleh aku berkongsi detik-detik bahagia atau sedih dalam riwayat hidup aku.

Tapi dunia senantiasa berputar, dan apabila kau berseorangan jauh dari yang lain... kau akan sedar itu sangat menyakitkan. Ada masanya aku memandang di luar rumah aku dan melihat wajah-wajah mereka, apa yang dipunyai oleh mereka sekarang bukanlah apa yang aku ada... dan aku terus melakukan kesilapan, mungkin yang disengajakan, atau tidak disengajakan. Aku rasa aku tidak sempurna, tapi bukankah seharusnya aku berani mencari laluan untuk menyempurnakan apa yang aku boleh sempurnakan, meluruskan kembali kekhilafan diriku sendiri?

Aku seringkali tidak meluahkan apa yang sebenarnya aku rasakan. Mungkin saja kesilapan sebenar ialah membenarkan diriku percaya bahawa aku sebenarnya elok-elok sahaja - tiada yang hilang daripada diriku, aku gembira, aku suka akan kehidupan aku sekarang... tapi itu sifat seorang manusia yang kerdil, yang jauh dalam lubuk hatinya kecewa apabila melihat kebahagiaan orang lain, melihat orang lain menerjah waktu tanpa cacat-cela. Optimistik tentang anggapan aku? Mungkin sekali. Adakah orang yang harinya sentiasa sempurna? Tidak, tapi aku sendiri merasakan bahawa sehari-hari aku tidak sebaik insan-insan lain. Mungkin aku cemburu, ya mungkin juga aku bersalah terhadap diriku sendiri atas hal begitu.

Ya, aku cuma manusia, dan sifat manusia tidaklah sempurna. Aku juga tidak terlepas daripada perasaan sebagai manusia. Amarah, duka, hampa, kehilangan. Aku pamerkan mimik muka yang ketawa, bercanda, gembira, menguburkan rasa diri sebenar daripada yang melihat. Itu yang telah aku cuba laksanakan. Namun dalam hati nurani, ada yang kosong. Siapa yang mengerti? Mereka bermain, mereka gembira, mereka ada yang menyayangi. Aku? Nah, sapa yang inginkan aku?

Mungkin juga tidak ada sekelumit pun rasa dalam kepala aku untuk melakukan sesuatu, menghargai dan memahami diriku sendiri. Setiap yang salah, sejujurnya, aku rasa cuma aku yang boleh dipersalahkan. Mungkin kerana aku lemah. Mungkin kerana aku memilih mengasingkan diri. Aku menyisihkan diri. Kerana aku rasa aku menjengkelkan orang, kerana aku rasa apabila mereka mendekati aku, itu kerana mereka hanya terpaksa. Aku sering berasa begitu. Adakah aku kecewa dengan diri aku? Ya, dan aku penat. Penat memilih mengikuti perasaan aku yang sejujurnya tidak berpaksikan suatu kebenaran. Jadi kenapa aku masih teruskan?

in this red flowering field

in this red flowering field
cold air, grey sky
not a single cloud in sight
even the sun is hiding too
yet the red, oh the red
the piercing red
blooming unbounded by horizon
bright, blinding
unstoppable fire
so i take a step forward
a second step, stop
a third step, stop, stop
step, stop, step, stop
stop, stop, stop, step
but to stop
a wild rhythm, an unlearned dance
naked skins crushing petals
after petals, after petals
each stride pierced
by thorns, dew seeping
into the bloodstream, and out
come droplets of my own red
red blanketing red
wretchedly invisible but
screaming loud
a nourishment, a vile one
for a pretty sight
this red flowering field

Tuesday, 26 April 2022

Misguided

Choose your misguided words
all that you turn into bullets
from the throne you have, they ricochet
'cause you believe you have no regrets
and you think you're never the problem
but hey, if you think in your shoes it fits
let's go with the narrative
isn't that all you want?

'Cause this is the make-believe, you're right
picking scars, deciding those you want to fight
and I'm sick and tired being
the one offering the wreaths
but everything you ever do is
trample and lie beneath your breaths.

Choose your misguided silence
burn good things you used to have
all down in ashes 'cause
you're afraid of seeing your flaws
but you're so fearful of
walking through the room you scorch.

'Cause you have faith in your faults
climb over the clouds hoping it rains
a temporary salvation, calling you a hero
and I'm so sick and tired of wanting
you to change but no, the  walls of
insecurity are haphazard in the makings.

Choose to cover your world from the flames
you've started on your device
embroiled in your so-called agony, you'll survive
and yet you still pick the
hatchet digging your own grave
just live with the guilt, die with the
mistakes you never call your own.

Friday, 12 March 2021

tug of war

we march past by
only silence trickling from our mouths
we got our armours up, soldiers ready
to tear the worlds apart
but every time i see your face
it's a tug of war of trying
to push you away when
all i want is pulling you next to me

and every day you're away from me
i feel like a fool
maybe it's my fault to shove
you far out of the blue
trying to shut my mouth
cause maybe that's the best to do
but slowly days go by and
i'm still thinking about you

and we are both wrong
in this tug of war trying to feel right
a battle to stay apart
hearts sidelined by makeshift weapons
egos are the shields
silences are the swords
it's a fight i'm ready to leave behind
and all i want is you to do the same

and every day you're away from me
i feel like a fool
maybe it's your fault to shove
me far into the blue
trying to shut my mouth
and maybe that's the worst to do
but slowly days go by and
i'm still trying to forget you

this peace might be a little too late
but could we try to mend what we have
i'm ready to let my guard down
but if you think your battle's won
i'll be the first to leave
even if it aches me forevermore

and every day you're away from me
i feel like a fool
maybe it's our fault to shove
both our lives far into the blue
trying to shut our mouths
could we open them up, could we try
slowly the days go by
are you thinking of the same too?

a blue night

a night like this
cold, hushed, hued blue by the
moon in an arc,
fenced by constellations.

and i, lost in time, 
lost in thoughts,
a truth, one so close
i choose to
distance myself.

hurt in all its forms
pain in all its glory
sadness but no tears nor cries
only a word of silence
slicing like a rusty knife
savaging the deepest
darkest abyss of an icy heart.

memories not made to last
blown away like pieces
of paper written with empty
hopes, useless happiness,
carried into the shadows.

and i am lost in time, 
lost in thoughts,
lost in a blue night
like this
lips frozen shut
a fool's behaviour
a blue night turning into
a blue day tomorrow
tick tock goes the clock.

Thursday, 11 March 2021

Did You See The Light?

Did you see the light?
Did you see how beautiful
when it lasted?
An ethereal puncture in the
darkness, a guide that kept pulling
us like moths to lamps and I thought
it'd be reached, but you went
ahead, and the steps I took
were never enough. The tunnel
was long, time dripped as
slowly as droplets from the ceiling
wetting me more more and more
weighing me down
heavier, heavier, and heavier
until I was soaked, cemented
so hard by gravity
my feet were stalled
you couldn't see me
turning into a statue starving for air
the light faded into a pinhole
the tunnel, a dragging, treacherous
hell of blindness
and you, ran towards the end still
body smaller and smaller
I couldn't even say goodbyes
goodbyes I didn't even want to say
I was but a statue
untouched by travellers
unseen by trespassers
forgotten by the one who
left me behind.
Did you see the light?
Did you find it beautiful?

Tuesday, 26 May 2020

Technicolour Heartbreak

And colours appear in me
neon, child-like innocence
sense of love, a bright rainbow
arc in my heart.

Seven colours made of
you - your touch, your eyes, your voice
your shape, your mind, your soul,
your heart.

And it's intense, you, the one I
go to, the one I adore, the one
I imagine in a kaleidoscope
of colours.

But what's a rainbow but
impermanence? Drops of rain
punctuated by light
only to dissipate
like glass broken into shards.

Shards that drop to the chest
to reveal just a pulsating red,
a scarlet river. Beating to its death,
you only see the monochrome
in me. I see you only
a figment of imagination.

Because the colours I'm seeing
are made of rose-tinted glass,
this love is stained
in hues of
grey and darkness.

Sunday, 3 May 2020

Wildflowers

Like wildflowers
just like wildflowers
each letter you pronounce
falls to the ground
and it blooms
a path
that leads to you
in a multitude of colours
beautiful under the sun.

Friday, 26 July 2019

Students' creation: An event that taught you an important lesson in life

Okay, so I did an essay question with my Form 5 students. A narrative actually. They were divided into groups and each group wrote a paragraph. After peer checking and teacher's guidance, they rectified their mistakes and rewrite the story in their notebooks. They managed to come with a funny story that I think should be read by all of you. Okay, for this one, I did take some liberties in making it a little bit more polished, but as a whole, this is totally their creation. I hope you will enjoy reading this!

Simplified question:
Write about an event that taught you an important lesson in life.

English Paper 1, Question 2 (An SPM-related question)

Many people have experienced an event that gave them precious lessons in life. Well, I was not spared from it, and how I wish I could forget it. It was a hot afternoon Monday and I just came back from my swimming lesson. My throat was as dry as the Sahara Desert. As I walked home, my eyes suddenly saw a piece of a heaven on Earth – a cendol restaurant. It seemed to call my name, so I dashed to the place with the hope of quenching my thirst.  I made my way to the ordering counter, looked at the menu, and opted for durian cendol.

While waiting for my order, I killed my time by watching a music video by BTS. The choreography was so mesmerising, my eyes were glued to the screen. Moments later, I heard the waiter called my number. My cendol was on the countertop waiting for me. I walked slowly with my eyes still on the video, took the cendol, and zigzagged my way towards a table at the back of the crowded restaurant.

Weirdly, I heard chuckles and small laughs while walking. At first, the laughs did not bother me, but as seconds passed, I realised that many people were observing me. Some even pointed their fingers at me while talking to their friends, and those fingers were suspiciously pointing at my buttocks.

I put my right hand at the back of my pants, and felt… different. I was expecting denim texture as I was wearing jeans, but my bottom had an unusual sensation. It was as smooth as Egyptian cotton. That was when I realised, with an unrestrained horror on my face, that my pants were torn apart, exposing my hot pink boxer briefs. The restaurant erupted in laughter while my face became pinker than my undergarment.

Many teenagers started capturing photos and videos. There were also sounds of superzoom effect on Instagram Stories. I was terrified! I was not aiming to be popular around the nation this way! Malaysia did not need to know that I, a 16-year-old macho boy, wore a pink undergarment. I tried hopelessly to cover my buttocks using my hands but unintentionally let go of my cendol. I could only watch the fallen cendol in despair for a second before I sprinted away from the restaurant.

The lesson that I learnt from that embarrassing situation was simple – never forget to check the clothes to be worn before going out. Needless to say, I really regretted not examining my clothes before I left the pool. It was a lesson well learnt which I will never forget.

Saturday, 2 December 2017

Malfunction

We are the things
that malfunction
not angels
nor demons
we have
hearts
that pump
tears
out from
our heads
we build scarred
walls made
from the
fragility of
our skin
voices stumble
on the edge
of our lips
wishing that
we are powered
by batteries
eyes shut
ears switched off
when life
fails us
because we are
glitches ourselves

Wednesday, 4 October 2017

An Exaggeration of a Fiery Heart

They have never seen within the boy his heart. It is a fiery torch that can’t be doused. His heart is a coal that glows constantly. It fuels him with a desire to burn walls and carve new pathways through them, it warms him with a passion to live. Burn like a phoenix he is, reinventing himself with every single cycle. He rises like the sun that enlightens the land every morning. He lights up his path to seek answers. Like the oil needed to sustain fire, his heart consumes the terrible and churns it to power to stay alive. No one can extinguish the boy’s jubilant flames.

In Dark

We creep oh for
so long of a time
even in the darkest
of nights
we are the blackest
of all shades of blacks
“I’ll stay with you.”
he whispers
“I can’t leave you.”
he says
I am his temple
My body is a coffin
keeping lights out
and I have a shadow
for my company

Wednesday, 15 February 2017

Every night I don’t dream of you

Every night I don’t dream of you I don’t dream of you I don’t dream of the way you make me want to caress your hair slowly and definitely just like how a fish glides effortlessly through the fast river I don’t dream of the way your skin feels so soft and smooth and how I want my fingers to touch your skin I want to touch it like how the waves lap on the shore and moves back into the sea I don’t dream of your smell the smell of your fresh clean shirt the smell of your hair after shower the smell of you during early mornings I don’t dream of how I fall into the abyss of anger of hatred of madness because I can never be yours you can never be mine I can never be yours and all of these are lies because I dream I am dreaming I always dream I dream of your eyes how they shine in the light I dream of your voice the combinations of sounds you make with your tongue and lips I dream of your left hand how they would look so right holding mine I dream of you the entirety of you the whole soul of you you with me with me anywhere looking at one another telling stories that make us awake at night you with me chasing our dreams together you with me arguing and mending ourselves again you with me I am with you or I am not with you I dream of you when I don’t want to because I am angry I am mad I hate myself every night why can’t I stop If I can’t love you why can’t I hate you I want to hate but you pull me closer and closer unknowingly let me hate you let me hate but my heart wants to love wants to love wants to forget wants you wants everything that you are made of wants every molecule of you wants you to light up my dark wants you to be the water when I am in fire wants everything that you are made of and I still hate that I love you still I dream of you still.

Your Calling

I only know how to lie I only know how to fall in love with you and your beautiful face and this heart yearns to bring my hands touching each inch of your skin and every strand of your hair you are beautiful and I fight against my mind not to look at you all the time but I fail always fail always looking always dreaming that you could be beside me saying my name like my name only belongs to you and your name is mine but I can’t we’re different we’re far apart we’re not supposed to be together and why do I love you when I know the love will destroy me why did I fall in love with you when you don’t know you never care your calling my name has all but a meaning because my name is never yours never yours to begin never yours to end with.

A Story of Hannah and Peter

Hannah looked at the giant watch mounted on the far west side of the station. Its face showed 11.54pm and the night train for Kerala would be departing in 6 minute. Her little fingers tapped her knees lightly as she searched for someone she was familiar with, but only the still cold night air and a tired-looking porter accompanied her.

"Perhaps Peter had been serious after all?" she thought. Their 2-month trip was peppered with fights and bickering. Peter would leave her for awhile, but normally he came back and sorted out their differences. This time, the wait was too long. Hannah absentmindedly crumpled her ticket. She didn't want to leave without Peter, and in her heart, a small tinge of hope assured her that her relationship with Peter would not come to an end.

In her mind, flashes of that incident played automatically. She could not fathom the reason of why she was being too selfish. Four years is too long for a wait, but was it enough for a bond that takes a lifetime?

Maybe she was wrong. Peter was right.

“Train will depart in two minutes. Two minutes.” The conductor said loudly, disengaging Hannah of her mind. Anxiety crept through her body – she must get out, she had to. Her heart pumped fast, adrenaline kicked in, and in split second, ignoring the heavy weight of her bag, she ran towards the door, trying to get out, only to be halted by the conductor. “Miss, you must stay. The train…”

“Don’t stop me!’ she said, shoving the pity conductor aside with full force, sending him tumbling to the ground. Hannah ran towards the exit, in her mind hoping that Peter would be there.

No. Peter was not there. Hannah eyes frantically looking for him and there he was, on the other side of the road.

“Peter, I’m sorry!” Hannah yelled.

Peter turned to her, gesturing his hand to form a heart shape and smiled that cute crooked shape that always been Hannah's liking. Peter seemed to forget it; maybe he thought Hannah needed a little more time. Peter immediately crossed the road. Everything’s going to be fine. Hannah thought.

The thing that happened next sent cold shiver down her spine. In a split second, a vehicle rammed Peter, and Hannah just stared – motionless, confused, and dazed amidst the commotion. There were too many sounds, too many sights, too many people; Hannah could only see one, lying in the middle of the street, in red.

The world began to look bleak, turned gray, and the last thing Hannah saw was the sky.

This is the story that Zell and I created during our LDV session so many years ago! To tell you the truth, our story was not supposed to end with a tragic incident, but the limit was 300 words. So, we had to do it anyway… Nyeheheh...
[Disclaimer: this is not the version that we presented in class. I edited it a bit.]

Monday, 9 November 2015

10 to 1

10.
The sun was setting, the sky turned rouge, it was a beautiful sight, with waves rolling by the shore. We were just finished frolicking in the beach. His brownish dark hair all wet and shiny, his skin covered with sand. He smiled at me. I did the same to him.

9.
We walked holding hands, his left to my right. It was a blissful late afternoon. With his animated voice, we talked about how we would stay together this way. I pinched his nose slowly, he punched my shoulder with a force you wouldn’t believe could come from him.

8.
I stayed with him that night. The day was all clear and breezy that it didn’t give an indication that the night would be unruly and dark, the blackness only to be broken by the sounds of a great deluge and continuous lightning. I knew that he was silly for being afraid of lightning, but everyone have different fears. We hugged together closely that night.

7.
The day after, he tried to make a breakfast for both of us. What an idiot. He couldn’t even cook the eggs properly. I took over the cooking since we knew who the better one was. I said I would teach him, he said I was just lying, but he was smirking.

6.
We got into a fight the week after. I was not in a good temper that day and he just added to that unknowingly. He said that I was hiding something from him. I replied I didn’t hide anything. We were arguing, it became heated, it turned into a stupid fight, and I pushed him. He looked at me straight in the eye and finally, he said ‘I never thought you’d do that.’ He cried.

5.
I knew the second I did that, it became my worst regret. I saw him ran as fast as he could out of the house. I followed him. ‘I am sorry!’ I said. Then I saw lights.

4.
We were in the hospital. My mom and my dad were standing beside him. Their breaths echoed around the room. The white walls made that place looked desolate, like a tomb even. I couldn’t look at this. I couldn’t look at him. My brother was like a doll. My eyesight became dimmer every passing second

3.
‘I’m sorry. Please forgive me.’ I said, watching his blurry figure from behind the glass. ‘You’re my brother. You always are’

2.
My breathing stopped.

1.
Do you like my birthday present? I hope you do. I’m sorry I lied to you. I wanted this to be a surprise. I’m sorry I can’t stay with you. Once the sun sets, once the shore turns silent, I’m leaving here forever. Take care of mom and dad, little brother. I will always love you.

Sunday, 28 December 2014

Football

Okay, so a dramatic monologue simply put is a play of speech that is performed by one person. I’ve seen one before, but I didn’t realise that was a dramatic monologue. Haha. Anyway, I was surfing (yeah, I still use that word) YouTube when I absent-mindedly clicked on this Australian short film know as The Language of Love a.k.a. La Langue de L’amour, written and performed by Kim Ho. The topic is more towards LGBT actually but I don’t mind that. I love all good short films. And boy, The Language of Love is amazing. So, I decided to write my own dramatic monologue. Well, probably I’m so not up to the theatrical level of monologue writing but it won’t hurt to try right? Haha. Let me present to you this one.

Football

By Mohd Afiq Bin Mat Razai

David is sitting quietly in the library while reading thick books. Items such as notebooks, stationeries, and a water bottle are on his desk. The other tables are filled with people doing their own work.

David:

Hey there.

So here I am in the library. I thought it’s gonna be a bit quiet around here but, uh, not so much. This place is supposed to a beacon for knowledge, not a place to heat up romance. Look at that couple over there. Smooching and I-don’t-know-what. Wonder if the guy’s going for sex books after this.

Anyway, at least they’re here. Some people said “library is dead.” Bullshit. This institution will stay alive until the next millennia… unless we humans annihilate each other first. As a species, we are pretty dumb.

Well, I am talking too loud. Some people are looking at me. Cranky because of my voice? I know I’m not Morgan Freeman or Tom Hiddleston reading that erotic E. E. Cummings poem. That one’s real good.

Anyway, here I am alone, amidst all these pairs or groups. I guess I’m used to it… have always been a friend to loneliness. Ugh that sounds terribly shitty.

Now that I think about it, this seems like a typical Hollywood film scene. You know, a guy with no friends, in the end he gets the most beautiful girlfriend. My life so far, not that, uh, fanciful.

Honestly, I don’t have lots of friends. Yes, I do have classmates, but that’s it. I don’t easily make friends. People look at me differently. You know like this guy beside me. He is looking at me as if I’m crazy.

But anyway, as I said, they look at me differently because I am kinda peculiar. You know how we have two genders? Male and female. Boy and girl. People see those two things as wholly different concepts. No spectrum between those two dimensions. You are either a boy or a girl. Me? For them I’m different. I’m a boy who has feminine-like characteristics.

Truthfully, I don’t really act that way, but, I am not that manly either. I know you’re confused but that’s how it is.

I can’t be a girl because I… I’m not one, but I can’t even play football.

Let girls be girls. Let them play with dolls, or makeup, or kitchen knives. Let boys be boys. Let them play football, or fight with each other because that’s what boys do.

Fuck. Boys don’t fight because that’s what boys do. Boys fight because they don’t use their brains. Just look at Bin Laden or Bush. Maybe I should lower my voice. A couple over there is looking at me. I suspect they’re Americans.

Football. Fuck football. God really, those Physical Education teachers, they never provide us with proper education. They tell the girls to sit in class quietly and do their work, while the boys, “All of you, football in the field now.”

I know the boys don’t want me in their teams. I don’t know how to play football. I just can’t comprehend the manly needs of boys to kick the object into the goals. I can’t kick the ball strong enough. I duck when the ball flies towards me at 50 kilometres per hour. Although in the end, one of the teams still accepts me, they pretend like I’m invisible.

Yeah, maybe some of you think that I don’t try to participate, but honestly, I would rather do other things. Drawing, writing English essays, read books. I love reading books. I learnt all about the Ancient Greeks, planets, countries, et cetera.

I don’t really talk about girls’ cleavage and boobs and stuff, so what? I’m weird because I don’t like to talk about… girls? Come on! Not everything in life is about girls.

I would be okay with that though if they leave me alone. But they don’t. They hurt me because I’m not like them. I am not physically hurt so bad, but still, they hurt me.

And they won’t stop calling me names. And they saw me crying.

I don’t know how to fight back. I only know how to cry. They only know how to taunt me further.

“David’s a cry-baby!” “David is a girl!” “David needs to change his gender” “David this!” “David that!” “David this!” “David that!” fucking over and over and over and over again.

People are definitely looking at me now.

The boys and the girls said I am girlish because I cried. A boy doesn’t cry, they said.

Is there a written convention anywhere saying that? Why can’t boys cry? Because crying is not macho shit? Because boys don’t deserve to feel emotions? Are boys expected to go through anything silently even if they are in pain? No guidance, no advice, nothing, just keep it all… in.

I’ve never told anyone the things happening to me because I don’t want them to say that I’m weak… but I cry. That means I am weak, right?

I still feel alone. I can’t even play football.

Monday, 10 November 2014

Like Water

I look at you, and in my mind, you are an element of nature. Perhaps like the water of the sea, one that comes to the shore as waves that grip my feet and sweep me away from the ground, pulling me into the freezing depths of my soul. You make me realise the tremendous amount of affection I have towards you, deeper than the bottom of the ocean, circling around my body like never-ending oceanic currents, giving me heat to sustain living. This love (one that you may never find out) makes hurricanes that devours on that heat. This love is one that drowns me, in as many ways as the sea harms a human. I am suffocated, no way of breathing air, but I can’t let you go. I am blinded, no light falls on me, the saltiness hurts my eyes, but still I wanted to seek you. Like waves shaping the coastal shores, you shape me in ways unfathomable. I am a yacht without a sail, travelling slowly upon your surface. I want to break free and get back to the land, but as much as I want that, I dream of just being afloat with you, letting you to dictate my course. Sunken or docked, my final verdict still unknown.

When You Were Eight

When you were eight
you made a fort
out of the pillows
you were the king
midnight was still early
but morning was all too soon
chocolates were never enough
colours came in 12 sticks
and you had magic
paper aeroplanes were as
good as the big ones
for your small eyes
the world was big enough
but then you said
“can I be an adult soon?”
you couldn’t wait
to be tall strong beautiful
you couldn't wait
to have your own job
you couldn’t wait
but you could not have known
the world never stops
now you look
to a mirror
and wish to send
paper aeroplanes back
to yesterday
when you were eight
falling from a bicycle
made you cry
now it seems
the visible scar
was less hurting than
a broken mind
a shattered heart
a wrecked trust

Thursday, 6 November 2014

Aidan (Part I)

Aidan swore he was dreaming. There was nothing that could explain the bizarreness of this place. It was a meadow of strange yet beautiful wildflowers of many different colours, tall twisted trees with really dark-coloured barks, and around him, rectangular mirrors about two metres tall formed a perfect circle. The sky was pinkish, with a little proliferation of clouds here and there. The sun was right smack in the middle, indicating that it was noon, but it was not as warm as it should have been. Aidan would have found the whole situation to be odd, if not for the fact that he seemed to have recognised this somewhere. His mind, though, would not cooperate with him regarding this matter. He stood there, watching the whole thing alone. The entire meadow was silent except for…
Except for those galloping sounds he heard from his behind. Aidan turned around and his face turned paper white. His blood rushed to the heart like speedy cars on the German autobahns. A wall of horses, as fast as a bullet train, as loud as the crackling thunder, was moving towards him. He half-expected those horses to stomp him to pieces. But then again this was a dream. He wouldn’t die, would he? What if he died in real life as the result of dying in his dream? The galloping sounds grew louder and louder and the horses got closer and closer. Aidan did not know what to do. His feet were cemented to the ground. He willed himself to walk, but not a single part of his legs followed the order. The horses all gravitated towards him, an unstoppable earth-hued wave. One… two… three… Aidan could only manage to close his eyes. Well, any minute now…
The sound stopped so suddenly. Aidan’s legs were shaking like trees in the tornado, but he still remained steadfast to the ground. His ears had not tricked him. No more sounds, but for a soft licking sound. Aidan opened his eyes slowly. What he saw took his breath away. A single stallion remained in front of him. Aidan was dumbfounded. No other horses were in sight, save for this one. The stallion was regal, so Aidan thought. His mane was long and silk-like. The coat was glistening copper. The horse was tall, even taller than him. Aidan then realised something else about the stallion: a single tusk on its head. It looked like a shiny black narwhal tusk, with a razor-sharp tip. Again, just like the scenery, Aidan seemed to recognise the horse.
“You can’t be a unicorn.” Aidan said, his voice small. The stallion moved closer to him. He nuzzled Aidan’s nose. “You’re not afraid of me?” Aidan asked. The horse appeared to understand Aidan’s question. It kept motioning to its body, as if to urge Aidan to ride on his back.
“I have no idea how to get on you.” Aidan admitted. He had never ridden a horse before. He was a city boy, and anyway he couldn’t just go to a horse track to ride one. The horse pushed Aidan’s head to the left. Aidan saw a boulder and immediately he realised what to do. “You want me to use that boulder to get onto you?” Aidan asked. The horse waggled its head up and down. Aidan walked while the stallion trotted to the boulder, in which after a few attempt (including one embarrassing fall to the mossy ground), Aidan finally managed to mount the horse.
“I supposed we could ride slowly now.” Aidan said. The stallion however made a neigh that sounded like a laugh. The horse kicked his hoof on the ground, and after another neigh or two (which didn’t sound good at all inside Aidan’s head), it abruptly gallop without a warning like a lightning bolt, making Aidan to scream as he had never done it before, while holding on to the stallion’s slender neck. Wind of hurricane-like intensity smashed his face. The scenery, that was visibly solid seconds ago, turned blurry. The most amazing thing happened a few seconds after that.
Like flowers growing from the Earth, horses started emerging from the ground and surrounded the regal stallion. They were smaller than the stallion, but they travelled with the same speed, muscles all ripped and buzzing with wild energy. It was the most beautiful sight that Aidan has ever witness in his life, or so he thought until he twirled his head to the front and saw a looming mountain up ahead. Aidan could perceive its grey rocky surface, dark crevices, and on its top, a pure white ice cap. How high was that mountain, Aidan wondered. It was breathtaking indeed, but there was one thing about the mountain that bothered Aidan. Just like the meadow and the stallion, the mountain was recognisable. It was engrained in his brain somewhere. Aidan was pretty sure of that, but now he did not remember where or when he first saw that mountain.
The horses all sprinted with astonishing speed, covering the distance between the meadow to the mountain in a swift pace. Aidan started to wonder if that mountain was their destination. Aidan himself was, for some reasons unknown, attracted to it. He felt as if his name was being summoned by the mountain, which was odd seeing that mountain was not breathing, living creature. A mountain was just a landmark, a piece of rock jutting out from the ground.
“Uhhhh… where are we going?” Aidan asked awkwardly. He was talking to a horse. Everyone would feel awkward doing that. The stallion answered the question with a nicker… and with lights coming out of its front legs, which then enveloped the whole body slowly. Aidan’s eyes couldn’t believe what they were seeing. The front legs shorten and rapidly, dark feathers with golden tips formed one by one and finally fused into two ethereal wings, larger and longer than the wings of an albatross. The whole body of the horse started to become wider and the stallion’s head seemed to retract, but the mouth turned pointy. The hind legs shortened and became claws. Aidan couldn’t form any words to describe the utterly abnormal nature of the situation, but moments later he understood one thing.
“Eagle? We are not going to… arghhhhhh!” again, Aidan screamed loudly, filling the valley below with his ear-splitting voice. Everything on the ground started to appear small, trees, rivers, rocks, everything. They were soaring above the air. Aidan was flying, for the first time in his life. This time, the eagle was not as fast as it was on the ground, but Aidan was totally cool with that. The other horses also turned into eagles. Their wings cut against the air, creating whooshing sounds. Together, the eagles filled the air with a chorus of screeches. Cool air brushed Aidan’s face. Bravely, he glanced below. The land was like an atlas he used to peruse with his one best friend. Aidan’s lips curved into a smile. If only his best friend could see this. He had never felt this way for a long time. He felt exhilarating. He felt joyful. He felt… he felt free. Freedom, one word that lost its meaning for Aidan, but the word was coming back to him slowly and slowly now, and somehow, he was fearful about it.
The regal eagle that Aidan rode finally made a swift turn to the right. Aidan realised that they were about to land on the ice cap. Aidan braced for the impact, but the eagle and its companions all landed softly on the snow. Only one bird managed to land quite badly, slamming face (or perhaps beak?) first into the ground with a hard thud, but it was alright nonetheless. The snow cushioned the collision. Aidan laughed seeing that. As much as everything was weird, a funny thing was still a funny thing. After that he immediately stopped laughing. Did I just laugh, Aidan thought. His thought was cut short as the coldness of the place started to seep into Aidan’s core. There was nothing around him, except white powdery snow. He was on the top of the mountain. Surprisingly, the air wasn’t thin. Aidan still breathed normally.
“Well, where are we?” he asked the eagle. It didn’t answer. Instead the eagle he rode began to squawk and then it shone again, this time with an even more blinding light. Aidan was flabbergasted and stumbled backward, covering his eyes with his hands. A few moments passed and Aidan heard his name being called a few times, slowly at first, but then…
“AIDAN HENLEY JOHNSTON, YOU TURN AROUND AND LOOK AT ME!!!!!”
Aidan could not believe his ears. He recognised that voice, but it couldn’t be the truth. He was frightened, because that voice should not be heard anymore. He was frightened, because he loved that voice. Aidan picked up his courage to turn his face to the direction of the voice. When he did, he got the greatest surprise of his existence.
“No… it can’t be…” Aidan struggled. “Fa… Faolan?”