Sup3rnality

Happy one month, love. Although, as you put it, spending time together-wise, it's only been about 15 days. And a very eventful 15 days it has been... Heheh. Well, here's to a month, and for many many more to come.

Love you.

Love, LinZy~

Today's the 11th of May, 2008. Mother's Day. And I'm determined to put into words everything that I feel when it comes to my mother. But the words get lost in the din. There are too many things to say and too little words to describe her with. And I doubt that ever, even if again and again I read through the dictionary, would I ever be able to do justice in explaining my mother. So here's (again) I'm posting up an entry I wrote some years ago on Mother's Day that encompasses what I feel for her. It was relevant then, and is still relevant now as it will always be.
So here it is, Happy Mother's Day, Ibu.

I love you more than words would ever be able to express.

*******************************************************

“I don’t think I’ll ever be…”

This, I quietly I whispered hoarsely to myself. My voice breaking, struggling to reign in the raging emotions in me; I steadied myself, gathering up all my courage to turn to the owner of the voice who just asked me:

“Ready?”

__________________________________

It was the 25th May 2003; my suitcases were packed and ready to be loaded up into the car, my clothes were laid out, ready to be donned, and myself? I wasn’t ready; I don’t think I ever will be.

My clothes were in a suitcase, another bag was stuffed with pillows and a blanket, and in another bag I had some miscellaneous knick-knacks. On my bed I had a white baju kurung and a white tudung, ironed nicely and laid out. But they sat there forlorn at one corner of my room, while I at the other, stared into space, a kaleidoscope of emotions fogging my vision.

I was finally there. I have been waiting for that moment; the moment when I no longer had to be dictated into pouring my time and energy into learning things I hadn’t half the mind for. I’ve had it with centralized exams, that judges your achievement based on what you memorized rather than understood. I was finally leaving all that.

I got accepted, of course. Just like I knew I would, into the University of my choice to take the subject I have long yearned for. I could not contain my excitement.

And yet, there were things that caused such a stir in my mind that it hurt to think of it. But still, I knew there was no running from it, and sooner or later, I’d have go through it—

I had to leave my mother.

____________________________________

My mother had always been the voice of my sanity, my rock that held me down. She understood me even when I didn’t want to be. She forgave me even when I didn’t earn it.

My mother is my life, and for 18 years, I’ve never left her side.

Home is where the heart is, and my heart had always been with my mother. When I see her, it’s like being at home. All my troubles flee, and I can be myself, without having to fear the world.

She wipes my tears when I cry, she listens when I have to let it out, she holds me when I feel insecure, she remains my friend when others leave my side.

My life is filled with her. I was the only child for 10 years and was lonely most of the time. I did not like going out; so my mother and I entertained each other.

As I grew older, she became more than just my mother. She was the friend that never judged, the older sister I didn’t have, the girlfriend I gossiped with, and the mother that embodied all that I need.

Most days were spent with her and me going out, just to have a drink, to shop, just to drive around; just for the sake of enjoying each other’s company.

She’s just as she is, perfect; she’s my mother, and I love her to the very core of my soul.

______________________________________________

Years have past since that day, when I had I knew it was time to step out from under her wing to learn how to make my own shelter. Remembering the feeling, the knowledge that I had to leave her I can still remember until today.

I knew I wasn’t going to leave her permanently. It wasn’t like I was moving away and that I wouldn’t see her in years or perhaps never again. But what I knew was that, I was another step closer to when I’d actually have to leave her. I was another step closer to the life that I had to build on my own.

I saw it in her eyes when I held her before I had to leave, I saw how much she wanted me to be that young girl again whom she could pick up in her arms and protect. But I was no longer that little girl. Maybe I still am, but that little girl had to find herself, explore the world outside of the safety of her mother’s arms.

But I couldn’t cry. Not with her looking on, hoping to see me brave my way to a new future. No, I had to be strong. I could not cry. I would not cry.

But—

I remember crying that night; I remembered how she sent me message after message telling me she loved me and how much she missed me. I remember wanting to be there with her to tell her it’s alright and that I’ll be alright. I remember how hollow I felt, how I felt so lonely.

I could still feel her arms around me, hugging me tight. Her voice wavering, trying to keep it together even when I knew she was about to break. Her eyes betrayed the brave front she put on, her eyes looking straight into me, conveying to me just how she wished we had more time to have fun, without the inevitable future looming in on us.

______________________________________________

I remember that day as if it were yesterday. On this day, Mother’s Day, I feel it the most. Especially with her not by my side, but on the other end of the country.

These days I wish I cherished those days gone by more. I tell her that I love her more. I wish I was young again more. I wish I could be next to her and take care of her more.

These days, when she’s not close to my side, I wish I was a little girl again.

______________________________________

“Ready?”

My mother asked me on the 25th of May 2003, taking one of my bags to help me bring them down to the car.

My emotions dangerously bubbled at the surface, I muttered to myself the answer I felt in my soul. Oh God, I never will be ready. You can ask me a million times over at any point in my life, I’d never be ready to leave my mother.

But turning slowly to face her, I put on a brave face­—for her. Steeling myself, I turned to her with a smile that belied everything that I felt. I said:

“I’m ready.”

**********************************************

Also, Happy Mother's Day to Mom. My other mother. Who was there when I grew up just as much as my own mother. We might not share the same bond, but you're my mother nonetheless. Love you, Mom.


Love, Lin/Ayin~

It's burning bright. So tentalizingly bright. I'm blinded, short-sighted by the light. Nothing on my left or anything on the right. Nothing else in sight. There is just me and the burning firelight.

This dance is painfully slow. And yet the rhythm blurring fast. It's hard to keep up. It's difficult to stay with the beat. We are on this dancefloor, and I do not know which way to move my feet.

Is this the junction from which I turn? Do I go straight, or shall I just burn?

I'd love to stay and dance the night on. But the hour's 12, and I promised my return. I'd run down the steps, virtue all a-flutter. But I'd leave on your steps my lone glass slipper.

A little now, but with a promise of later. Don't worry, I have the other slipper.

Baby, I'm a moth to a flame. Tempted by the burning candlelight. I'll stay for this number, but I need to leave before midnight.

Love, LinZy~

I'm calling this part of my life: Awakening.

And the reason? The sleeper is waking up, and she's peering curiously yet cautiously into the blinding daylight. She breathes in early morning breeze and soaks in the morning light onto her skin. But wait, the morning was too early then, late into the wee hours of the darkness. But she
felt it on her skin, the morning's dew blanketing the otherwise bare.

Love, Linzy~

I woke up and stretched languidly and smiled to myself.

Finally.

I got up, took a shower and proceeded to prepare for moving day. Moving back to campus, that is. Not something I'd usually look forward to, since it does signal the start of classes and travelling back and forth on the dreaded train. However, these past few weeks have given me a new reason to look forward to get back to the good 'ol Holy Grounds :)

I carried the boxes and bags I needed to bring to campus downstairs. All placed near the door, ready to load them into the boot of the car when we were ready to go. I did all this with a spring in my step, anticipating the rest of the day, knowing I'd be able to see Ash later.

I woke Ash up sometime at 9am, as he asked so he could go to the mahallah office to check whether it's open and check in if it was. After that I went on with everything, arranging things into the boxes and putting clothes into bags. But at about 10am, Ash called to tell me: the office is not open today.

Bloody hell, that was frustrating news. After already planning for this day, we find out that we'd have to hold everything til tommorow. Cos even if I went to Gombak, I'd have nowhere to stay. And that way I'd have to go back to Seremban anyway....So I couldn't....sigh. Talk about killjoy.

So I'm only heading back tomorrow....A day later than expected. Better than nothing, but frustrating nonetheless. So, love, I'll see you tomorrow then. Can't wait ;)

Love, LinZy~

It has occured to me just how long it has been since I've penned down a poem or something like it. It's been quite a while. I could not possibly remember the last time I've let words flow through my mind and let it be drawn upon a canvas. That canvas, of course, nowadays being my laptop screen while my fingers tap upon the keys, patterning upon this pixelated blank page the swirl of letters that substantializes the abstraction in my head.

It's been a while now.

And whether it is this laptop that plays medium to my constant need to give voice to the otherwise silent recesses of my mind or my hand smooth-flowing in an almost possessed fervour upon the paper pages of my notebook; it surely has been a while. Relatively a while, considering how every page of any notebook of mine used to have on it at least a stanza committed to ink.

I was however intrigued to write one of my own last night. I was reading some poems my dear Ash posted up and was moved by how much emotion was captured in those brief stanzas. Even more so was the fact that they were written in Malay, my should-be mother tongue (bahasa ibunda); which I have failed to master in entirety. I found them moving, so much so that I'm moved to write my own take on his poem titled "Sepi itu yang Membingitkan" (read it here). I definitely cannot do justice to his, but I'll try my hand. Oh, and of course, it's in English.

Love, I hope you don't mind.

Reason? Well, out of the many, silence is what I understand the most. How in all of its deception of peace, the hushness breeds more monsters than bunnies could procreate, for it allows you the peace of mind to let monsters haunt you. And being the worrier that I am, this is knowledge that I have firsthand.

So that's it. My first poem in months now, owing my inspiration to the words of my dear Ash
(don't sue me, yea? Hehe...). See you in two days, love.

Love, LinZy~

I'm out of my mind.

Something not out of the ordinary. My mind has never been one to stay in one place. Always flitting to one thing to another. Inquisitive. Always finding more than one way to look at things. Always searching. Always questioning. I have many questions. And I have many answers. Just not to what I'm asking. Well, my mom has always said I was the most inquisitive one amongst my other siblings.

I'm out of my mind.

But then again, is it my my mind that I am out of, or is it my mind that is out of me? For I have lately found myself to be submitting to a self other than my usual. And in this self my mind flees. But nomadic as my mind is, it stays within my vessel. Usually. Only that it takes the time to explore the outer reaches of my mind, but never outside. And this what puzzles me, wondering why she'd take her leave to go, eventhough she's never left before.

She's out of her mind. But understand that she's fought her way out of the woods, and by some divine intervention, found herself once more with feeling. And although she's smashed she's not wrecked. She's tabula rasa; clean slate. And with lessons, she'll have words written on her blank pages, and she'll realize there's a sleeper in her.

She wakes up groggy with the new dawn, but not without a smile on her face. And eventhough she has yet to find out what is beyond that horizon, she's content with just the now. She's out of her mind, and it scares her when she is. The straight is not necessarily narrow, and she doesn't want to veer off. The offroad does seem a little tempting. She's heard about it. Heard it whispered when it reached her ear, the gentle rasp of promises. And yet, the whispers tell her the promises hold. Infinite validity for as long as the whispers heard is just the one without the interruption of any other, without adding grafitti ontop of the painting of the sunrise. And she's comforted. And yet, the offroad seems tempting... She won't visit, no. But she's tempted to ring the doorbell. Knock, maybe, and run before they come to the door. Maybe. But she's also been walking this road long, she'll get there soon. Maybe, too, she'd pass it by, and just get there first. She'll come a-knocking when she has her own door to be knocked on.

She's out of her mind.

But at least she remembers it.

Love, LinZy~