Epilog: Penyakit Pelik

Aku ada satu sindrom. Satu "penyakit". Satu kelakuan pelik. 

Ini contoh senario supaya mudah faham.

Di bawah bangunan rumah aku, ada kedai runcit, kedai roti dan kedai sayur. Kebiasaan aku akan beli roti dan sayur di kedai lain sebab kedai lain kualiti dan pilihan lagi menarik.

Jadi bila aku beli roti atau sayuran dari kedai lain, aku akan cuba sedaya upaya untuk tak lalu kedai bawah rumah aku, jadi aku ambil lencongan jalan lain.

Akan timbul perasaan bersalah kalau tiba-tiba pakcik kedai roti atau sayur bawah rumah nampak aku beli barangan tapi bukan dari kedai-kedai mereka. 

Pelik kan? Dalam kebanyakan orang,aku kira reaksi pastinya "aku punya duit, aku punya suka nak beli kat mana" Tapi bukan aku.

Aku ada "penyakit". Tapi aku tak mahu sembuh darinya. I'll gladly take this as a gift, it makes me feel human. 

"Into the great wide open
Under them skies of blue
Out in the great wide open
A rebel without a clue"

Epilog : Terawih or Terawikh?

• If you're here to get an answer, than this is definitely the wrong place. But I'll let you know, it's terawih. That incessant -KH added by some never existed as far as I'm concerned.

• Teringat aku masa kecik dulu, masa ikut family terawih kat Masjid USM. Masa kecik dulu nakal, jadi masa orang solat kat depan kebiasaan budak-budak saf belakang nanti bertaburan.

• Geng kami lepak dihujung satu penjuru. Main tepuk kad, kadang main nama negeri, kadang main sepak-sepak tangan (aku tak pasti nama asal apa) dan semua jenis permainan yang percuma, tapi sangatlah berbaloi.

• Ok, tak berbaloi in terms of ponteng solat. Dan lagi kartun, kami duduk di penjuru, sakan bermain, bila Imam dah nak bagi salam, masing-masing buat saf dan bagi salam sama-sama dengan jemaah Masjid lain. Memang hantu. Haha.

• Tapi gamaknya semua dah besaq lani dan berubah jadi lebih baik, inshaAllah. 

tepuk kad. awesome!

 

Epilog: One Day

One day.

One fine day. When dust finally settles. Then we can speak freely about those wasted years.

Those years went by, twas eons ago or at least it felt like it, but every time you reminisce, the thought of it would make your old scars reappear, your wounds reopen with a dash of salt dusted upon it.

But the salt won't make the taste feel better, it stuns you, it simmers your insides, with a mindful silence. An unfathomable vigour.

The past is like a book you've read, that's bittersweet while it lasted. Like an emotional roller-coaster, that gives you that adrenaline rush, but once you reread it, the rush will quickly be crushed. 

The past. Open and shut. Like a splinter at the back of our minds. A teacher armed with a double edged sword. Twisted yet sensible. Crazed yet manageable. 

One day.