batu sungai

Excerpt from Airmata Adam, Chapter 17: Hanim Dan Adam


Di atas meja kecil di dalam bilik itu, terletak batu sungainya. Adam mencapai batu yang hanya sebesar biji durian itu, Bila digenggam batu itu terasa dingin, dia membuka genggamannya dan mengamati batu itu. Bujur yang tidak sempurna ia berlantai menirus dan membucu tumpul di hujungnya manakala hujung yang berlawanan lebih membulat seperti biji durian, berlekuk dan retak tetapi licin di makan dek air sungai; warnanya putih berbelak kuning oren, lutcahaya seperti marmar jingga.

Adam membasahkan batu itu di bilik air kemudian melihatnya di tingkap, membiarkan matahari memancar di atas batu di tapak tangannya. Kenyit cahaya matahari berpantulan di lapisan air pada muka batu, terangnya matahari menembusi batu lutcahaya itu membalikkan setiap garis unjuran pada sebelah dalam batu, menyerakkan setiap tona pada spektrum putih, kuning, jingga, bagai marmar Taj Mahal, bagai jed jingga maharaja purba, di tangannya adalah jauhar sungai dan tuntung. Biar dimamah usia, dilontar ke lumpur, kering di atas meja, sekali air dan mentari menyapanya, cahayanya yang samar terbit semula.

Ingatan Adam terlontar ke zaman anak-anak, berpalit selut, bermandian di sungai sambil melihat tuntung berenang. Zaman tanpa desakan, tanpa airmata, (melainkan dirotan bapanya kerana tidak pulang maghrib, itupun jarang sekali) tanpa kekusutan jiwa.

Adam tidak ingat mengapa dia mengutip batu itu dulu. Ketika ini batu itulah satu-satunya harta yang paling berharga, tanda ingatan seorang Adam dulu yang bahagia dan tidak gentar pada kehidupan. Adam memasukkan batu itu dalam koceknya, dingin batu melintas denim dirasai oleh kulit pahanya, lalu melangkah keluar dari biliknya untuk ke warung.

nota: karya dan badut

Nota:
Seperti narcissus dengan bayangnya. Dia jatuh cinta dengan kesempurnaan dirinya. Dan kesempurnaan ini memusnahkan semua yang menyanjunginya termasuk dirinya sendiri. Sesungguhnya.

Terasa diri setolol badut sarkis. Setiap langkah semuanya silap, setiap aksi lelucon dewan. Kasihan si badut.

AH BOSANNYA MENJADI BADUT. BOLEHKAH PROSES KREATIF ITU DIMATIKAN? SAMALAH SEPERTI MEMBUNUH PENGKARYA ITU SENDIRI.

Watercolours

If I said you’re beautiful,
would you understand?
when I said you have blue eyes,
would you understand?
the watercolours,
the palette of life,
Your beauty paled me to non-existence.

Feels like a Fool

When others laughed at you and you, like a fool, twitched to bear a grin and act as though you have enough sense of humour to laugh at yourself too, deep inside, you know; it was not funny. Every jibe, every smirk, every tilt on every corner of every mouth were like daggers driven at your self-esteem. And so you bleed, still smiling, desperately clinging to your dignity, hoping that if you died, you'd be a martyr . The truth, however, does not seemed real. You did not bleed, you would not die. Aye they mocked and laughed, sometimes louder than how you could remember. You lived on, like a fool. But you know, you are not one. Sometimes you just feel like one. It's alright.

Air Papan

The whole stretch of beach was deserted. The sands were without footprints and the waves, angry white sprays lashed on the sugary white beach. The horizon blurred by the blue waters and the blue cloudless sky. A vessel seemed floating between water and sky. Yonder, tiny green islands afloat like flecks of faraway green clouds. It could be Dali's masterpiece, but this is Air Papan a popular public beach off Mersing.

I stood by the beach and the waves beckoned. I submit to the call and dived into the rolling thunderous waves. Nothing seemed existed or maybe my existence was nothing.

That was a month ago.

Today I passed by the town. I remember Air Papan. I remember you and the coffee I drank in your office.

Bila Dina Tersenyum

Dina tersenyum melihat bayangnya di cermin. Bayangnya menangis melihat senyuman Dina. Ingin sahaja imej itu berkata "kau perempuan gila". Dina tersenyum meleret; dalam dan keruh maksud senyumanya. Lebat airmata bayangnya melihat lerekan senyum itu, makin kuat rontaan perkataan yang terkongkong dalam kotak fikirnya. Dina jangan! Sayang, suara bisu itu hanya untuk hati kaku. Senyuman yang terukir itu kekal di wajah Dina.

Di meja kecil Dina sebotol pil tidur berserakan. Darah menitis dari hujung pisau lipat yang tergenggam di tangan kiri Dina manakala jemari tangan kanannya adalah delta merah melimpah dari lurah dalam di pergelangan tangannya. Kepalanya terlentuk di bahu sofa dan Bayangnya di cermin retak seribu.

apa yang?

apa yang sedih sangat ni? ntahla
apa yang sayu sangat ni? ntahla
apa yang toye sangat ni? ntahla.

Mungkin kerana tiba-tiba segalanya jelas dan tiada apa yang boleh dilakukan untuk bertirai lagi.

A Book, Returned

She received a brown envelope this morning. She stared at the unfamiliar handwriting. God, she thought, who could it be from? It has her name, spelt correctly, but without her father's, so it can't be from a formal acquaintance, yet it does not address the company she worked with. Lucky thing that the package arrived safely, she thought. If it was from anyone she knew why was the handwriting so unfamiliar? She ripped the flap and there it was, Dorothea Brande's Becoming A Writer staring straight at her. A book she referred and revered whenever she could not write a line on a page. It was hard to describe the joy that washed over her.

A little note was folded on the title page like a book mark (with a heading that reads: going beyond expectations). Then she realised that she had seen the handwriting before. Getting that package, even when the book is actually hers, felt like getting a gift.

the last time we met

I have changed, you know.
My hair is longer and greyer
My waistline has more inches
I don't wear the same lip colour,
my make-up is more elaborate
to hide the years on my skin. Not that
I'm ashamed of the wrinkles. Just that
I don't want others to count the years that
I have been.

My clothes are different, more room
to allow misplaced elegance.

If we meet again, you may not recognise me
and I may not remember you.
For now, thanks for dropping by.

Silent

You are silent again.
Sometimes I wished you would leave me.
But if you do that I would miss you,
more. Your silence scares me.
It is, as if, you have disappeared.
This fear, this longing, this terrible in-between
and over the edge of the rollercoster ride;
these feelings I have for you, let's stop here.
Then I am sure
that you have completely disappear.
You will be gone. Like the rest.
Six months, then we'll see.
Today you are silent again.

Perhubungan

Bila satu perhubungan itu tidak seimbang,
bila satu pihak mempunyai definisi yang berlainan
dan kedua-duanya tidak mempunyai satu rujukan yang sama
maka perhubungan itu
jadi pincang dan tidak ikhlas.
Tapi dia bukan Na+ yang tidak stabil dan tercari O2-
Dia Aurum.
Hanya raksa yang dapat melunturkannya.

Bila menulis terbalik

tiap yang duka, jadi suka
tiap yang luka, jadi cinta
tiap yang benci, jadi kasih
tiap yang hina, jadi mulia

Dan kehidupan pun berputar
membiarkan kita memilih
antara yang terbalik
atau sebaliknya.

nothing

sitting out here
thinking of nothing
wanting nothing
imagining nothing
hoping nothing
feeling nothing
saying nothing
being nothing.

the phone rang.
(shh, don't answer)
quietly, let reality wait.

kota kata

di kota kata-kata
kata-kata diperkata
kata-kata dikota
kota kata-kata
kata-kata kota
kota-kota kata

di kota kata-kata.

mewajarkan dosa

hang jebat meratap
di pangkuan pembunuhnya.
hang tuah pembunuh saudaranya
menelan airmata jebat
dengan harapan airmata itu
menjadi antidot
dosanya pada jebat.

A Haiku: On The Street

A young ginger cat
washes her face, oblivious
the morning sun shines.

A Friend

I saw someone
and thought it was you. I said
"hullo".
He looked up and around to
see whom. Quickly, I
pretended not to be the one
and walked away as fast as
I could.
Have I forgotten how you looked like?

coffee

the man looks at the cup of coffee in front of him. A thin vapour curls up and diasappear. He can't smell the coffee. His throat is dry, eyes are wet. With trembling fingers, he tried to lift the cup. But the fingers, seemed boneless, the cup rolled of table and crash on the floor. spilt coffee on the white lino. Black on white.