Wednesday, 28 January 2015

The Strange Library by Haruki Murakami


I am not an avid fan of Haruki Murakami (or Murakami Haruki if you are such a pedant or a Japanophile). I’ve never read any of his books before this… that was until I saw this beautiful pink book with the title ‘The Strange Library’ in front of it. I was immediately attracted to the book due to some things, 1) This Murakami book is not that thick, 2) I wanted to read Murakami’s writing, although not the thick-arse books for the beginning, and 3) The book is beautifully illustrated.

First of all, let me say that The Strange Library is a work of pure imagination. I don’t have a novel or story book like this before. It’s a dazzling intermingling of typography, colours, and images, many of which are taken from the old books kept in the British Library. The way the story is illustrated, it is not just to beautify the book, but the graphics and the way the words are arranged and the different sizes of the typeface all give a pleasing effect that complement the whole story. This is to say that reading the story without the illustration would make the experience a bit dull. Imagine certain parts of the story, for example, “The librarian stamped returned on the card…”, the word ‘returned’ is actually a printed version of a real stamped RETURNED with red ink, just like what you normally see. The other one is a page in which the boy narrator says, “but it’s pitch black.”, that short sentence is placed in one black page, effectively bringing the readers’ mind that the room the narrator is supposed to go in is indeed dark.

You will indeed move back and forth between the pages, connecting everything in the page to one another. Your eyes and mind are in a playful interaction as words and pictures come together making the story to come alive. I’m pretty sure that these connections between the texts and the pictures make this novella an interesting read and bring its value up.

Many pages of the book are printed with those brown stains or made to look like old yellow papers. The other charm of The Strange Library is the most bizarre cover art. Purple-pink (fuchsia?) hard cover with a card pocket that you tend to find at the back of the library books and, get this, it’s functional. You will receive a special card that is also a bookmark, and when you’re finished, that card can be saved in the pocket. Ingenious and makes for a pretty fantastic cover if you ask me.

The story is simple enough, as it tells a story about an unnamed boy who wants to know how the Ottomans collect their taxes besides wanting to return the books that he borrows from the library. That simple journey nevertheless turns dangerous as he then finds himself in a difficult situation of being killed by the old man who wants to eat his knowledge-infused brain. The boy narrator is being taken care by the sheep man and a semi-transparent girl who talks with her hand. With less than 80 pages (and to be honest, since the story is wholly fancily illustrated, the short story is obviously shorter than that), it is a fast read. I read The Strange Library in about 30-40 minutes. The whole theme is about loneliness, and then you need to dig a bit to see why that’s the main theme there. The other one thing is how we humans are too scared to act in our lives, just following, never dictating. The boy narrator is like that. If we push aside the odd storyline, the conduct of the boy is what humans tend to do. I will say that some may find the tale a tad too simple, and I know that Murakami writes really complex stories if what I heard from my friends are right, but I like that. The simplicity is enhanced by the colourful minds of the illustrators. Nuances of the pleasurable moments in the writing of Murakami are connected to graphics, not to say that Murakami’s writing is not a delight in its own form, but certainly, as I said before, the cosmetics of the pages round up the experience in reading it.

Coming back into the way the book is made, it is the way the book industry is fighting against the advancement of technology. Nowadays, people equip themselves with gadgets such as tablets, smartphones, or e-readers. People are reading through their screens but somehow lost the touch with physical copies of books. People are writing more by clicking or tapping but lost the touch with pens and papers. The Strange Library is indeed trying to stem the tide. I won’t say that the pleasures of reading through real books that can be smelled or touched are lost, because even if technology advances even further, people will still find themselves grasping hard-bound copies or soft-covers sooner or later in their lives. In this digital age, information is rapidly shared but it can be easily lost too. But papers can exist for so long of a time. Just look at our history, thousands of years of stories passed down to us. As much as the taken-for-granted papers are brittle, technology is even more so. In my own opinion, reading through electronic devices, while convenient and I admit to do it for my academic reading, seems so far removed from the human nature of reading. Will the reading industry die then? I don’t think so. Maybe not all novels that we read will be beautifully crafted as The Strange Library but the fun of reading will live on.

Anyway, to end this review, the peculiarities of the characters, the bizarre story about a horrendous predicament inside a library, and the aesthetically pleasant images and wordings make this novella a handsome book. This book is an art in itself. You’ll find yourself excitement with it.

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.

How Far Can You Jump

How far can you jump
Gone is the bridge
the water's burning cold
"forget it."
have you the bravery
your feet
are they chained
or can they spring
how far
"look," they say
"it's too far
you fall and die
trust me."

but you let go
one second after
there's no turning back
the swoosh of air
the absence of ground
the leap of faith
you cross

how far?
did you jump?

Saturday, 29 November 2014

Empty

I didn’t sleep well that night. It was not right to sleep well when the day after would be a rather different day than the usual. At eleven, you asked me a question, I looked at the ceiling absentmindedly and replied, “I don’t feel like going back.” Honestly, I didn’t feel like going back. I knew that it would be a joke to not go back. My time there, at least for that phase of my life, was over. I was also thinking of something else. That morning, I didn’t watch the morning sun rising from its hiding. That morning, the only thought in my mind was ‘Thank you for not pushing me away. Thank you for still having faith with me.’

That mid-morning, I went to the last place there where my feet still touched the ground. I talked with both of you, but it felt different. It felt different because the next time when I listened to your voices and see your faces again would probably be so many months away. I still could bottle up my real feelings though. I didn’t want to show I was sad. I wanted us to depart on a happy note. That day would not be the last time. I promise that. On that plane, I watched the sky. The blue that day was a beauty. The clouds were dense and white. The only thing on my mind was nothingness.

Friday, 28 November 2014

Imperfect

So, I was having this conversation with a friend of mine, and one of the sentences that he said was “If I get the girl who will like me for who I am, I will be happy.” Okay, I’m not so sure if that was the correct sentence, but in essence, that was it. It got me to think two things – one: “Dude, you’re not a bad looking boy, but I feel you.” *imaginary hug* and two: “Do we care about the imperfections of the people who we love?” And when I mean the people who we love, I mean everyone.

Perfections, imperfections, we are humans. We are never free from having mortal flaws, both outside and inside. Defects that litter on our bodies, in our minds, inside our souls, or within our hearts, they all make who we are. The first question is this: do we blindly accept those people with all our hearts? We can’t possibly accept people who’ll do damages to us in the end, and some damages can be irreversible. I know that we always say that ‘I love that person. I don’t care about the not-so-good things that person has.’ Fine, it’s good because well, acceptance is one of the keys to a good, long-lasting relationship (as long as the flaws are not detrimental to the bond you have) but in a way, what kind of imperfections can we accept without them being detrimental? Physical, well I think so. But terrible behaviour? Horrible attitude? Are those acceptable flaws?

The second question is this: do we let our own limitations stay, or do we change to be better? Obviously the real thing is to change them. I do really think that all of us have an obligation to adjust ourselves better. We can’t possibly stay on the same level for too long of a time. We can harm the very people who we adore if we let our own flaws to consume us in the end. If we know that we want the people who we love to be a permanent fixture in our lives, the one thing to do is to change. What kind of changes? The changes are those that will make us a greater person to ourselves, a person who is way superior to our old selves, one that will make us proud and happy.

All of us have an Achilles’ heel, or maybe two, or three, okay, maybe way more than that. Sometimes, we can’t change if we don’t have someone to support us. If the people we love have faith in us, they will gladly go through the bad times and the good times together. These people want the best for all relationships that they have. They want us to be better, and in many ways, they will be better themselves too. We need one another. We want to be there for one another. Changing is not easy. Love is not a walk in the park. Once you get it, you will hold on to it. We want to be the best for one another.

With the words of Auzellea Kristin Mozihim

Taylor Swift's 1989 D.L.X. Version Track By Track Review


Taylor Swift is going pop, and she’s going big. A few months ago when Taylor Swift announced that her new album is going to be sonically different by being a full pop offering, fans around the world were divided into two different factions (Divergent this is not). Some rejoiced the fact that Taylor’s trying a whole different sound, and some thought that Swift’s abandoning the very essence that has made her who she is now. Me? I’m in the middle. I love her Country twang and vibes. I knew her from her single Teardrops on My Guitar and the song made me cry on my… uhhh… bed, because it was real good, but then again, her transition into a full mainstream pop artist, does it surprise me?

You see, from her first eponymous Country album back when she was like 15, to her sophomore effort, Fearless, that basically became her catapult to worldwide stardom, to Speak Now, which cemented her position as the artist to be reckoned with, and finally to her previous album, Red, that provided us with a taste of what Taylor is giving us now… every single album before this has increased pop values and 1989 feels like a destined shift of Swift’s singing career. 1989 is a fine beginning to Taylor’s pop career as she manages to blend in the current trends of mainstream music, with the uniqueness of the 80s. The admixture works rather well for her. So, to answer that previous question: I’m not surprised. I’m just surprised at how good she executed this change.

Welcome to New York, the opener of the album immediately tells you that this album is truly a pure pop offering by Taylor. This song is the red carpet to the new door that Swift is guiding us in. It signals that new one direction (totally not a pun) that Taylor is heading to, and it begins with New York City. It’s an anthemic, catchy tribute to the city of lights, with its entire dewy-eyed girl’s hyper positivity of a brand new place all around. It’s not the best song dedicated to the Big Apple out there, with Taylor putting her school girl story on the song. Jay-Z and Alicia Keys’ Empire State of Mind does a better job describing the grit and glory of NYC. Welcome to New York is but it sure makes you want to fly there and see the bright lights of New York yourself. Dancing in Times Square is optional.

Blank Space, the second track and the second single of the album, is a song that shows Taylor Swift actually realises the reputation given to her as a-serial-dater-who-break-people’s-hearts-so-that-she can-make-songs-out of-it. I know there’re too many dashes over there but I can’t help it. The song is quite minimal and when they said it is quite similar to Lorde’s style, well I couldn’t help but to notice it. The lyrics are playful and fun and mischievous, this is TayTay satirising about what the masses are saying about her, and clearly she had fun writing this while imagining that she’s a sort of a femme fatale or whatever.

Style is the third track in this CD. Makes you think about Harry Styles, doesn’t it? Perhaps it is about him, I mean it is obvious isn’t it? Anyway, the music sounds like the 80s noir crime drama theme song. The lyrics touch on fashion (well a bit, the song is titled as ‘Style’) but the main point is about a relationship that is a mistake but you still want to be in its cycle.

Out of the Woods is one of my favourite songs in this album, perhaps one of my favourites from her entire career so far. One word that I can use to describe this song is ‘epic’. This synthpop offering (courtesy of Jack Antonoff of the band fun.) falls on the same line with her song from the previous album, Red, titled State of Grace. Genre-wise, State of Grace is actually a soft rock song, but in its essence, Out of the Woods and State of Grace for me are the same, aurally haunting sounds. Out of the Woods is ambitious and monumental, full of deep percussions and heavy synths, with beautifully layered vocals by Swift, accompanied by looping cut voices of Antonoff, and chorus that sticks to your ears. This is a song like no other Swift has ever done. As always, Taylor shines in her song writing skills here. This 80s-inspired tune is a grand offering.

All You Had to Do Was Stay, the fifth track, is one of my favourite, although many other ‘official’ reviews put it as a mediocre song. Hey, people are entitled to their opinions. I like the chorus part, when Swift croons about a man who wants her back after he left her in the first place. Of course, there’s no going back now for the man. The background voice saying ‘stay!’ makes it all the better for me.

Shake It Off, the saxophone-laden sixth track, acts as the first single on the album and it immediately reminds me of her first single from Red, We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together. Why? Here are the similarities: first, the choruses of Shake It Off and Never Ever just hook you from the beginning. Second, there are spoken sections in both singles (which I know lot of people like to say with weird accents, including me) and third, those two songs are energetic, upbeat anthems that prompt us to shake out butts off. I should add the fourth one now – they are not the best that Taylor (and her team) can create. Sure, I love both songs. Head-shaking and butt-wiggling are sure to occur like there’s no tomorrow when the songs are played, but they are just similar to many other pop songs these days. Still, you can’t deny this song’s mass appeal.

I Wish You Would, the first song in which guitar plays a prominent role. And as always, two o’clock in the morning is the time when Swift is still breathing, perhaps making music. Listen to her previous songs and tell me how many times she used the same hour in the songs. The song is up-tempo and as it goes on, it goes bigger and bigger. For me though, the song is quite ordinary?

Bad Blood is Taylor Swift being pissed off like how Taylor Swift can only be pissed. Well, this is her fifth album, so she is pretty much an expert in putting a person to a limelight with her lyrics and emotions. She is angry and she wants to have her revenge. Do I love this one? Well, not so. In fact, I think Better than Revenge from Speak Now has greater pissed-off value than Bad Blood.

Wildest Dreams is a slow ballad, and honestly, not all ballads appeal to me. Here though, we can see that Taylor Swift is channelling her inner Lana Del Rey. Whispering and trembling voices, and minimal music, the songs is about Lana… wait, I mean Taylor, asking a guy to remember her when she’s gone due to a condemned relationship. Does Taylor passed the Lana Del Rey Mimicking Test? Perhaps 59.9%. Lana Del Rey is better as Lana Del Rey, but congrats to Miss Swift for trying.

How You Get the Girl straight up sounds like the song that is connected to Taylor’s previous brand of music, although the influence of 1989 is still there. Really, if you take away the pop production, this could sit well with Swift’s earlier Country albums. The song is Miss Swift telling all you guys to be honest with your girls. Tell them what you really feel. It’s cheerful, chirpy, it fits for a family serial drama background song, and it’s what I like.

This Love is the eleventh track, and boy it is slow… and sentimental. Swift gets her vocals layered and fluid here and the song itself has sonically layered synths. And yes I said I don’t like some ballads, but I kind of like this song.

I Know Places references hunters and foxes, perhaps it’s Swift trying to equate her and her lover and the media with those two things, you know since the lenses of paparazzi (and the public) are on her life all the time, but it could abode well with couples trying to get out from annoying aunts or parents asking them when they are getting married. The verses are menacing and unnatural, as if you’re waddling through a river in a scary forest. Seriously I thought the song is going to be like that in its entirety, but comes the chorus, and it changes to a cheery, joyous sound. The alternating drums and piano give different vibes to the music. All in all, the fast pace tempo song manages to stick to its theme.

The final song in this album is Clean. First thing first, if the song is in another singer’s album, I would be inclined to think of it as a coitus-related song, you know on the same par as Nicki Minaj’s Anaconda, Beyoncé’s Partition or all Miley Cyrus’ over-sexualised videos, because the title ‘Clean’ implies that… uhhh… sort of. Nevertheless, the song is NOT about coitus and Swift still manages to keep her squeaky clean images intact with the song. The song is all about addiction (wait, didn’t you say Swift is clean in this song?). Well, it’s another kind of addiction, an addiction to a person who destroys you, but then you learn how to let it go bit by bit and come back to the hopeful world that you have left behind. This is an emotionally flooded song, and aptly titled so, since it employ many water metaphors. The electronic vibes of this ballad makes it different from the other pop ballads that you have heard before. One of the best songs in this album.

Now, if you buy the D.L.X. version of this album, you’ll have three extra songs. The first bonus song is Wonderland, and if you guess it’s related to Alice in Wonderland, 10 out of 10 you are right. Taylor equates her life with her beau with all those sinister and beautiful things in Wonderland (Underland if you want to be technical…).

You Are In Love is the second bonus song, and I don’t like it. It’s a song that you can play during a marriage ceremony as it will make your bride smile, but nah, not for me.

The final song is New Romantics. New Romantics… one question to Miss Taylor Swift is why didn’t she put this on the normal version of the album? Like why the hell why?! It’s funky, it’s groovy, it’s anthemic, it’ loud, it has this I-don’t-care-attitude! I love this song. The 80s rhythm is so good here and the chorus is noisy and freaking infectious.

To end the 1989 experience, Taylor Swift provides us with three voice memos, describing the ways she writes her song. So you can get her personal insights on where her creativity and inspiration come from. You also get to listen to early versions of three of the songs in 1989.

So, Taylor Swift has finally completed her transformation from an All-American Country Sweetheart to a Global Pop Force. Some people may find it to be a disloyalty to her Country roots, but if you’ve followed her growth since the day one, the progress from one genre to another seems to be natural. She has proven herself as a great Country musician, and now she’s making a really titanic splash in the pop arena. If there are people who can juggle two different kinds of music in the same time, one of them will be Taylor Swift. Of course we don’t know if this transition is just a one-time fling or a permanent fixture of Taylor’s career, but one thing is sure, Taylor has done it again, and Taylor has done it real good.

I need to say my thanks to Syed Noor Yazeed, my classmate, for buying me the album. He’s my Secret Santa for my class’ Farewell Dinner. Thank you so much Yazeed!

Friday, 14 November 2014

INK - Issue:1


Do you know what a zine is? Zine is an original, self-published, small-circulation booklet or magazine either cheaply photocopied or in digital form. I have always wanted to make a zine for a long time because it's unique and personal. People usually make zines on the topics or matters that they love, be it films, gaming, poetry, food, anything.

Since I didn't have anything to do, I actually created one with my Photoshop and Word today haha. The name of my zine is the INK. So, I can say that I’ve finally fulfilled that dream! Yeay! Making the zine was a bit tough but I do love it. I especially love creating the layout. So, lads and lassies, let me welcome you to the first ever issue of the INK. In the November 2014 issue, it’s all about haiku. So sit back, relax, and read on! Thanks!

Read it here: The INK

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

Sunday, 9 November 2014

Harm

Let’s face it, life can be unfair. There are many people out there who don’t know how to escape from the problems they face and end up doing things that hurt themselves, or worst, committing suicide.

But as always, a lot of people are not helping. Some people think that those who cut themselves are crazy. They think that people who have suicidal tendencies are just clamouring for attention. What the society thinks of them are harmful.

People who mutilate themselves or choose to end their lives do not find any ways to solve their problems. It’s not because they cannot search for one, it’s because they have lost hope. No one supports or loves them. They have let their problems to be a part of themselves. What I know is this, diminishing the values of the crisis they are facing will never aid them. We should not equate the lives of other people based on our own.

The thing is maybe we can never even understand what they are going through, but if we try to understand, encourage and be there for them, they will know that they don’t have to face this world alone. Everyone needs one another.