Muse

Come, and sit by me
Cradle my words in your sleep
Knit my dreams as you go deep
Laid down and make 'em beautiful sheets

Musical, magical, that's all it takes
I'll engrave it on my silver plates
Hope it will satisfy all my dread
'Cause without you, Muse, I'm already dead

Be here now, be here now
I promise you'll feel better somehow
Have me by, lemme show you round
We'll read the stars dangling upside down

Just be here, now
And we will make
The best out of our apple pancakes
Let it bloom into rooms and shapes
Anything's possible as long as we rake
Our minds and souls, all theirs to take
All out spread out like honey stars flakes

Be here, muse.

A week from now

A week from now, I'll be off in a plane, India-bound.

I am typing on my dad's PC at home. My parents went for a makan-makan at their friend's house, so the PC is lounging around freely, so I thought that eh, why not updating my blog. And yeah I like to type when there's nobody hovering around. It is hard to do in this house, my mom is deffo a hovering overprotective mom, always checking on me every 5 secs if she had to. Yesterday we got into this small argument involving her hovering around asking me questions. I was so pissed off cz at that time, I was writing this poem and all the questions blunted my idea and hey I was swept away by writer's block, yeay me. Then she went on this defensive mode, mumbling that it was she who taught me how to write and now I am just being snobbish towards my own mother who feeds me and whatnot. Whew. Women and their ability to bring out even the smallest things. Even I'm a woman, but my mom always complain of my lack of emotions or empathy, rather, when I ridiculed her habit of watching tearful dramas. Haha.

Okay. I'll be starting my internship when I get back to Davangere later, and honestly I don't have the slightest picture of how it would be like. I mean, yeah during my studying days I've been in the hospitals and I saw how it all works, but yeah of course being a medstudent is definitely different than being an internee, aite? Oh well, I don't even have anyone to ask about it too. My intern friends are busy and those of the same boat as me are anxious. Hmm. What's the saying again? Just go with the flow? Jyeah.

Using this PC makes me really want a new laptop. I've always wanted one. My battered, hand-me-down netbook with the 10-inches screen really is just for surfing the net. And me writing off the antics of my mind. The form given off for my scholarship programme, allowing us to buy a laptop and the amount can be claimed later, had been lost since forever. We can use it as long as we are students, they told. But my medstudent status had expired recently, at the moment when I got my result, so, yeah. Burn that hope.

I'm afraid of becoming a workaholic. I can be quite the kiasu type-A kinda person in an inducing environment.

I need to state out my priorities. And no, it is not my priority to get married now. (Throw glances around)

1. I should be doing my work for the sake of Allah, my Creator. Then only nothing can bring me down. Cz there's many, many dark things that lingers around this profession that may let me down, and break me, and test my wits and patience.

2. I will try my best to be a good and fully-functioning doctor, always revising and studying to be at par with my colleagues.

3. I will not forget my passion for writing and written material, namely books, short stories, poems.

4. I will not succumb to the idea that doctors does not look good because they are too busy. I will try to look presentable and not half dead at my very best.

5. I will read this whenever I lose my sight on my priorities.

Till then,
Come what may!

InshaAllah we can make it. So far my seniors and friends are still sane. That's supposed to be heartwarming, right. ;)

Pemandu Jiwa

Gelung ributku
Lapis tanyaku
Merah resahku
Basah kedipku

Langsung membuat sembah lintas lalu
Sinar-sinar mesra
Pencak-pencak cinta
Semua turun, menjadi salji ajaib

Kerana jiwa, Kau punya.
Kerana Kau, Pemandu Jiwa.

Aku Tak Mahu Gelar Itu

Aku tak mahu gelar itu
Aku tak mahu swarovski berbatu
Aku tak mahu tinggi dudukku
Aku tak mahu kau lihat aku tak setanding denganmu

Aku tak mahu gelar itu
Aku tak mahu riak cemasmu tatkala terlihat kot putihku
Aku tak mahu sesak dadamu di hujung corong stetoskopku

Aku tak mahu gelar itu

Aku cuma ingin jadi sang penginsaf di tiap waktu
Kala aku melihat yang tak sihat, dan yang tak sempurna
Aku cuma ingin jadi sang pengkagum kuasaNya
Di setiap kebah, sembuh dan syukur terhela

Aku mahu semua, buat aku terduduk berlutut tersujud syahdu sama.

Aku tak mahu gelar itu.

Melompat Dunia

Diam terpempan di meja berkabus debu
Kumpulan tiga puluh tahun.

Petik jarimu!

Tergesit di lorong kecil tepi masjid kota
Seorang cilik melontar senyumnya.

Petik jarimu!

Duduk bersimpuh di tepi padang pasir, tangan berhimpun doa.

Lantas kau menutup lembar dan hentikan baca.
Eh.
Siapa kata melompat dunia-
Cuma miliknya sang adiwira?

Poem - Writing versus Reciting

I was at Sabah about two weeks ago, where I met some of my friends at a small gathering at Sabun's house in Tuaran. It was a mini reunion, you could say, if you count out my travel partner. They brought out our school magazine, named Randawi, the edition where I was one of the editorial board members. And inside, voila! A long forgotten poem of mine printed neatly on one of the pages, titled 'Sesuatu Untuk Esok'. It's funny that at the end of highschool I wrote a heartfelt poem about what would I feel about school after leaving school, and somehow, it was just so perfect for the reunion occasion. Sabun recited the poem for us despite my desperate argument, and it made me think at that time that I, myself, cannot recite a poem properly despite my ability to write one.

I think reciting and writing poems are two different businesses. I hate talking in the first place, let alone letting my guard down reciting a heartfelt poem in front of people. I prefer writing, texting, emailing, anything after talking. Talking exhaust me. And I wonder, seeing poets reciting their poems proudly in front of a bunch of people, don't they feel the same like how I feel? I prefer to hide behind my writings cz people can't see me. People tend to judge. I like to observe people and as long as my observation goes, people's judgement can be so weirdly confusing, wrong and harsh and I don't want to be at the other end where I am putting myself out there to be criticized. But so is life. We live in a community and we'll always face judgements no matter how hard we tried to hide.

I guess I'm letting my guard down a bit. Still ain't reciting one small poem.

Yang Seperti-seperti

Seperti tahu
Seperti tidak tahu
Aku menyimpan wangian senyum
Bersama sinar mentari paling mulai
Di dalam tabung kaca berlorek nama kamu

Tapi yang seperti-seperti itu
Cuma tinggal seperti
Dan tabung kaca aku biar hanyut
Biar terdampar dengan air surut
Di mana saja ia tersangkut

Mungkin makan tahun, atau masa yang mengerumun
Tapi aku tak peduli lagi dengan mentari paling pertama
Kerana kau tak peduli pun dengan renyahnya teruja aku
Mengumpul cahaya di tabung kecil
Untuk kita.

Yang seperti-seperti
Aku leretkan
Di langit lazuardi tengah dhuha
Memohon ampun atas ketelanjuranku
Terfikir aku bakal punyai kamu.