CHouJi ReborN’s blog

I went to a cinema (for a first time) with a bunch of friends today. I never entered a cinema before and I made few rules to allow myself to enter one, they are:

1) Since I'm going to New Zealand, I want my first cinema experience there. Even if I were to watch the worst movie there, I would not mind as long as I watch it somewhere in New Zealand.
2) A movie based on a good novel I have read (to be particular, The Historian) will be released. If I were to watch THE movie, then I would not mind watching in the worst local cinema.
3) Watch movie with someone special to me. For this one reason, I would not mind watching ANY movie at ANY cinema, as long as I go for the movie with the person.

In brief, my reason for entering a cinema is that it must be something memorable to me.

So today, I went to a cinema in Mid Valley with my housemate and other four girls (including that special someone who sat next to me). However, I screwed up the fun because I misheard the time my housemate and I should be going out. It should be 12.30pm but since my housemate and another girl finish their tutorials at 12.30pm, I heard that we are going out at 1pm (actually it's the time the movie starts...T_T). Because my housemate and I were late, one of the girl were pissed off and pulled her face in front of us. We went for "Alone", a horror movie. Honestly, I'm not afraid of the stupid ghost appeared in the movie but I'm more 'afraid' of the pissed off girl. Why? Damn, she never mad at me putting aside to pull her face in front of me. She's a good friend of mine who gave me moral support when I really need it. She may not think of me as a good friend of her but I do think of her as one good friend of mine.

Enough talking about her and let's go back to the movie. Throughout the movie, I sat next to this girl who made me enter the cinema. It's so funny to see her covering her eyes with her handbag whenever the ghost appeared on the screen. I patted her a few times to calm her down. What's funnier is, she actually asked me a question in Siamese language (because the movie we watched is from Thailand).

To think again, today sure is memorable to me. I went to the cinema with "her", and I saw the gal friend who never mad at me (directly) .

• What kind of game do you actually prefer the most?

Tough question for a not-so-avid gamer like me. X'P Before I answer this question, I think I should state a fact here first: I'm bad at all driving and shooting games.

So as to refer to the aforementioned fact, I don't like games like Counter Strike, Need for Speed and all that alike. Because, I'll  lose miserably when I play them. Oopss...I still haven't answer the main question. X'P

Now, now. I actually like Role-Playing Games (RPG), especially ones with good storylines like Tactics Ogre: Knight of Lodis and Final Fantasy Tactics Advance. I really love mythical creatures (and demi-humans) like centaurs and mermaids (also includes daemons and angels) and these creatures always appear in medieval  settings. There. That's the kind of game I love.

-p/s: If those games are tactics-type, they are then irresistible to me~ +_+

Could you tell us more about your first crush?

Hrm...her name is Munirati Ahmad. Born in Terengganu, moved to my school when I was in form three. She's a nice but very quiet girl (as I still imagine her as, though she's more outgoing now).

I first attracted to her when we were in the same class when we were in form 4. I was the first guy who purposely started a non-academic conversation with her. Since she's a quiet girl, we kept on our "conversation" through notes (which we'll put in one another's table every few days) so that no other people but our own close friends know about about weird relationship.

In one of the many notes I gave her, I confessed to her once. She asked, "Are you kidding?" and because I was too afraid of losing her, I chickened out and said that I was just joking. Indeed, I regretted what I've done but life goes on...

We continued our relationship which we referred as "friendship" even after we have finished school - through matriculation etc., and one day i knew that she already has a boyfriend. It was a week before my foundation year's final examination. That day, I messaged her around 10pm, talking about and asking about each other's lives, until around 11.45 when I dared myself to ask her whether or not she already has someone special. She didn't reply. I thought she was vexed or something so I said sorry. Then, around 12.15am she messaged me and said, "Sorry, I have this someone called me..."

And there goes my first crush...

This is a short story (not so short I think =p) written using my rusty writing skill within less than 2 days. Wooo~ The basis of this short story is the dream I had during my state of confusion...while trying to get over Eriksoniian's 6th stage. +_+

Warning to those who only like love stories: This story is quite philosophical, revolving around the issue of our daily lives. Enjoy~

THE ENCOUNTER

In my long sleep last night, I wandered through an untamed world – full of delusions and wonders; where unachievable hopes and fantasies seemingly become reality – a place known to others as dream.

In that untamed world as I walked slowly yet attentively, I saw faces of people I met in the past – faces of joy I missed so much, faces of sorrow I pity; and faces I almost forgotten as they dwell in the unreachable part of my past. I tried to start a conversation with them but my greetings seemed ignored. I was vexed and perplexed but I kept my composure still – what’s the point of losing it anyway? – and I gave it another try. This time, I tried to lay my right hand on the left shoulder of this person whose face resembles my cousin who had passed away years ago. Surprisingly, my warm hand never touched her shoulder (in fact, it went through her body) but I, somehow, felt the coldness presence around her making my whole body shuddered. I backed off few steps behind. Only now I realized that these faces I see right in front of my eyes are not real; only the reflection of my unconscious mind.

While I was about to walk away from the crowd of “faces I knew best”, among those faces, I saw two faces I never expected to see in the crowd – to be existed there, to be more precise. The two figures, from afar, seemed to wear faces like mine. And they smiled to me – I know, they were smiling to me. I gasped as they moved away from the crowd…because they are now sauntering towards this figure stood like an abandoned tower. Paralyzed, I could not even lift a finger to give them a cue to stop and they, they approached me with a constant speed, with a curve on their faces. I threw my fear away as I know I have to confront them sooner or later – but of course I wished to confront them later.

As they reached my side, they threw their both arms wide open with a greeting in a language I never heard before yet I resolved to understand every word they uttered. They greeted me: “O thou whom our presence coincideth thine! Welcome, welcome, welcome…” Their descending voices echoed unstoppably in my head – for a second, I thought my head would explode. I stared at them right into their eyes – one at a time – to make them go away, or at the very least, to make them introduce themselves appropriately. I had no fear of them anymore; I wanted to talk to them, in fact, but my voice seemed stuck in my throat. I felt like screaming but I couldn’t. And their faces seemed to reflect a smirk due to my helplessness…

One of them approached my side. He walked around me slowly but persistent; with his pompous eyes fixed firmly on my temple. I do not know where I gained the strength or whether the spell cast unto me had vanished, but I was able to point him a question: Who are you?

The dark figure approached from my back with his lips an inch away from my left ear. He whispered slowly but determined, “I am you”. Now I could see his face much clearly – his face is exactly like mine but well-shaven and with no scar nor emotions reflected on that face. The man, he was dressed in a very sophisticated clothing, ones I had never seen before. His body was wrapped in a beautifully ironed bluish velvet tuxedo with a pair of slacks of the same colour and material. His shoes – they are of black leather, gleaming majestically like a reflection shown on still water. And on top of his head, an exquisite hat made of leather – I suppose it is because I don’t know how to describe the material – was placed magnificently. And there is something about him made me tremble with inferiority. I squirmed intensely to free myself but I couldn’t. As if understood by the expression shown on my face, the man chuckled mildly before he said, “I am your Mind, if that answer pleases your query.”

Astounded, I flinched.

 

“Come. Take my hand,” he offered me his right hand with a cold smile on his lips. “Let me take you to a place you belong to!” Out of control, my hand is reaching for his and as my hand touches his, I could feel my body sinking slowly into the ground. I panicked and struggled to free myself but Mind convinced me not to worry. He said that the place is down there.

Throughout our ‘sinking’, Mind told me about our first encounter which, of course, I couldn’t remember because I was only nine at that time. He described how I met him when I was in the middle of confusion, a crucial time when I need to reason deeply and make my first decision whether or not to skip standard four and proceed to standard five. He said, it was the first decision my parents let me decide myself. I could not remember the event in such detail as described by him but I could now understand how important his existence to me. Our conversation went on, revolving around the many choices and decisions I have made – of which I was very proud of and of which I regretted the most. I could not remember how long it takes for us to reach (to sink to, to be more precise) the “place I belong to”.

This place where I belong to (as Mind said) is actually a place where all my decisions made, reside. It is a place of reminiscence – of my past, whether I remember or not, I could always find them here. There, I saw my mom struggling against death during my birth (which I always wished to watch this event because my dad had not recorded it). There, I saw myself striving to make my first baby-step on this earth at the age of three (this one, my mom always told me how slow I was to make my first step). There, I saw myself sulking when my parents let my youngest brother wins every time we fought for toys (this one is kind of blurry to me though). There, also, I saw myself crying during the funeral of my beloved cousin who had been a close academic rival to me. Without myself realising, there were warm droplets of water started to well up in my eyes. Mind looked at me with pleasure. Maybe he was satisfied with my reaction to this place where I belong to. I am now thinking, maybe, maybe this is the place where I belong.

Now, Mind is looking at me with a serious expression on his face. He asked whether or not I like this place and whether I want to stay there for all my life. I said I’d love to stay there because this place reminds me about how much other people care about me, because I feel loved here. But I could not dwell in the past, I refused softly, because I still have my unknown future awaits me out there – a life I want to venture and to love.

Upon hearing my answer, vexed, Mind shouted to me with anger: “You are free to be loved but you don’t deserve to love! Never!”

Perplexed, I was able to dispute him with a strength I don’t know where I have gained from: “Why shouldn’t I deserve to love if others are free to love?”

Mind laughed vigorously as if he had lost his mind. I felt warm blood starting to rise up to my ears. Mind pointed his fingers at me and said, “Look at yourself, midget! Do you think of yourself deserve to love others? Don’t make me laugh…”

I was confused but trying to answer when a shrilling voice intervened from nowhere: Stop it, Mind! Leave him alone. He deserves to love. Out of sudden, I realised that my body has returned to the place where I first met the two persons. And now, the other person who greeted me together with Mind is next to me. He was smiling to me with contentment. His face (as I have mentioned earlier) resembles mine but there is something different about the face. Maybe his eyes, I guessed. His eyes filled with unfulfilled lust and greed. Those eyes made my whole body trembled with fear. I examined him thoroughly (and vice versa): He wore an unbuttoned black jacket made of fine leather with no shirt inside; and a pair of black trousers of the same material. The design like Mind’s, of ones I had never before seen. And his head was wrapped stylishly with a black bandana with reddish stripes across his head. Yes, you deserve to love, he said while his extraordinarily long tongue was licking my left cheek. I felt like as if my stomach was forced to burst out from my mouth.

“Who are you?” I blurted out the question. “Don’t tell me you are me…”

He sniggered. “I didn’t tell you…but you guessed it right. Mine name is Desire. I am here to take you to the place you long to be…” And he offered me his left hand. My hand was reaching for even though I forced them not to; and in the struggle, I threw him a brief question:

“What do you mean by the place I long to be?”

He just laughed and grabbed my hand. “You’ll know when we reach there…let’s soar amongst the sky!” Somehow, I felt my body’s weight decreasing and became lighter – as much a feather would weigh on ones hand. Out of my control, my body floated in the air – as my hand in Desire’s – and our body soared slowly yet steadily. Before I could say anything, Desire pointed me a question whether or not I remember my first desire for anything. I said no, I cannot remember. He laughed quietly before he described to me about our first meeting, the first time when I had a very strong desire for something – to know more about people of my opposite gender, about girls – when I was fifteen (yes, I was a late-bloomer, poor me). My cheeks turned to red. Yes, now I remember.

After quite a long conversation with Desire (which I could not remember how long as I have grown fonder towards his lively speeches), we stopped on a very huge chunk of cloud. On the first glance, I saw nothing but emptiness on the vast cloud-field. I wondered, what is it with this place that able to make me longing for it? As if he could read my mind (or my expressions maybe) with his devilish eyes, he said: “Here is the place, and there – that is the – the place where you always long to be in.” And I examined the castle from afar, while walking towards this “place where I long to be”.

As we reached the white castle, Desire opened the main door for me the way a valet would do. I thanked Desire as he offered me to come in. From the outside, the Castle of All Desire looked as if it was made of something soft and fragile – vulnerable – like house made of cookies in Hansel and Gretel. But from the inside, the castle was actually made of something like white marble, reflecting gleams of light every time the sun shines on it. Only now I realised that it was not that warm even though the sky-field was located very close to the scorching sun, in fact, it was very cooling inside the white castle. To my surprise (because I have only then realised), every desire one has inside will be aroused greatly when one is inside the castle – which I laughed to myself since I wondered why the castle was named as Castle of All Desire in the first place.

“I guess you’ve guessed it right why this place was named with its name,” Desire smiled, again, with contentment. I was astounded. Is this guy a mind reader? I shook the thought out of my mind. No, it can’t be. It was his evil eyes, I reminded myself. While I was examining every inch of the vast yet empty castle, Desire asked me a question: “Could you see them?” I stared at him questionably. See what? I wondered. “Your desire’s still not strong enough…” he sniggered.

As I looked around, trying to find “the things I couldn’t see because my desire was not strong enough”, images of my past, against the solid wall, slowly becoming real to my restless eyes. On the wall in front of me, I saw the event Desire described when we were soaring towards this castle – my first strong desire to know girls when I was fifteen (which made my whole face turn red immediately the moment I watch it). On my left, I saw myself craving for a fuelled control car when I was seven which I never had (because my dad never allowed me to have one). On my right, I saw myself struggling amongst books and notes when I was fourteen because I wanted so badly to show my parents of my worth in academics (and yes, I earned straight A’s for Lower Certificate Examination). As I craned my head, I saw myself crying in the shower after knowing the fact that the girl I liked since high school already had a partner. It was when I eighteen. I laughed to myself as these reminiscence played in front of my eyes. Yes, this is where all my desires – from the past and for the future – reside. This is the place where my hopeful desires, my lustful desires; and my unfulfilled desires reside. Yes, this is the place where I really long to be in as it reminded me of the fact that I always am free to love the things I love. But here, I don’t feel loved…

            “No, no, no…not so fast, kiddo,” Desire was staring at me intensely. “Have I told you that you can be loved here? No, I didn’t because you don’t deserve to be loved. You can only love…not be loved!” And he laughed vigorously until his whole body shook. Vexed and perplexed, again, I yelled back at him:

            “I thought you can be trusted, Desire!” My whole body had shaken. “I trusted you because you said that I am free to love…”

            He sniggered, again. He walked around me. His strong feet stomping against the white marble floor. “Yes, I said so. But I never mentioned about being loved! You’re damn funny, kiddo…” Upon hearing his answer, I fell onto my weakening feet. I sobbed helplessly there. I felt all alone there. At the moment, I felt like as if the whole world was closing in on me, wanting to engulf me into the world of emptiness. I felt lost, hapless and helpless…

            Stop crying, son. A soft seasoned voice, coming from nowhere, was trying to comfort me. But I never looked up for the voice. No, not another deceit, I chanted to myself repeatedly. I was not ready for another blow of deceitful truth. I cupped my wet face in my shaking hands. Not another deceit.

            Suddenly, a wrinkled but warm hand touched my cold cheeks, wiping away my tears. Panicked, I kept myself a stone – not trying to move nor trying to look up for the person who had wiped away my tears. Not another deceit, I continued the chanting in a very low voice.

            “My son, this is no deceit,” the ancient voice tried to comfort me again. “Open your heart, child. Try to see with the eyes of your heart. Don’t give in to hatred – it mutilates you from inside. Never give in to lust – it consumes you inconsiderately.” Somehow, the words uttered by the voice gave a healing effect to my heart. I wanted to trust again…but I was too afraid of the fact being betrayed once again.

            “Let your heart to trust and to love again, son; and open your heart to feel loved again. Listen to your heart, child.” I dared myself to look up for this voice, wanting to know who this person actually is. I was surprised to see myself in a very vast place – pure white and with no boundary, no walls – spread as far as the eyes could reach. In fact, beyond what the eyes could reach. And before me, a figure wrapped in a reddish garment with a hood covering his head – an ancient kind of garb, I suppose – was watching me emphatically. He seemed as if he was sharing the inner pain I suffered from anger and betrayal. He smiled to me. His smile – his face contained the maternal love and care one always feel comfortable to lay one’s eyes on. I tried to ask who he is and what he had plotted against me but the questions – all of them – stuck in my throat.

            The old man in ancient garb (whom I now realised that his face also resembles mine but seasoned – wiser I’d rather say) is now offering his both hands to me. Even though my body fought against it, my hands were reaching out for his. Somehow his ancient hands felt so warm…and comfortable. I stopped my struggle, letting myself to be taken by this man whose name I did not know or where he wanted to take me to. I have been deceived once and another deceit and betrayal won’t hurt that much, I whispered to myself.

            This ancient man, with a maternal smile on his lips, tried to assure me not to be afraid. He said, he was taking me to the place I came from – a place neither I belong to nor longing to be there. His words of promise made me wondering, what kind of place neither I belong to nor longing to be there? My wandering thoughts were pulled back to the ground when the old man suddenly asked me whether I believe in my mind or in my desire. I didn’t answer his question though but we continued walking. Again, this old man asked me whether or not I remember meeting him before. I said no, I never met him before. He only smiled and we continued walking. Once more he asked me a weird question – whether or not I remember when was the first time I believed in a total stranger but I left his question, again, unanswered; and we continued walking until I could see a very huge threshold (with carvings of letters of the ancient, I supposed) made of gold. I gasped at its size and beauty but the old man only smiled at me.

            “Here we are,” the words suddenly out of his mouth after long silence. “Behind this golden door is the place you came from. The place neither you belong to nor you belong to be in.” I was stupefied.

            The old man smiled again before he said, “This is no deceit, child. Behind this door is the place you came from – the real world, the reality. I said it’s not the place you belong to because you belong to God’s side, not there and not here. And the place you long to be in, it’s in God’s love and presence. Not here nor there.”

After giving me a very warm embrace (which I always missed now), he stepped few steps aback. The maternal smile permanently curved on his face. “Go. Go to your place behind this golden threshold, my son. The world needs you now. And one advice before you leave this world – as we might not see each other ever again though we are so close – is that, whenever your mind tormenting you with decisions you cannot make; and when your desire runs wild out of your control, always listen to your heart. It will lead you to the right path…” I only nodded to his last advice.

Before I stepped my right leg to the world behind the golden door, I turned back for one last time and asked, “Who are you, old man?”

“I am you, my son. I am your Heart.”

            Phew~ With LDV paper finished, the final examination for cohort 4 is now over. I don’t know what to say since I got mixed of feeling right now: happy ‘cause the exam is over, sad ‘cause foundation course is already over and everyone has to go our own separate way to different universities, nervous ‘cause still don’t know which university I will go to; and worried for the result of final exam’s papers. But what is done is done (huhuhu…still can’t get over with Macbeth addiction =p). Everyone went out celebrating the end of final exam and I wish that I’m with them but due to some unavoidable problems, it is simply not possible. So, sitting alone I rewrote the essay I’d written for LDV free essay question but this one is extended and more elaborative version. Enjoy~ …but better be prepared with a handkerchief yea! ^_^

[a STORY of TEARS]

The alert bell rang again. It was the second time since the last two hours. I rubbed my sleepy face and straightened my body. Then, I glimpsed on the monitor. 12.15 a.m. It was room 303. I hurried to the room to find a weak body lying helplessly on the bed, which was covered only by a thin white sheet. I could see the withered right hand was moved from the bell-switch to his side. His hand was trembling greatly as if he had Parkinson. But he was not. It was just the normal illnesses old people around 80s always had. He smiled bitterly to see that somebody is coming. I returned the smile to him. Slowly but quietly, I moved to his side.

“Nurse,” his voice was weak. “How long could my short breath last?” He looked deeply into my eyes. I could feel his solemn eyes penetrating mine. It made my heart feel sober. I lost my words because I know the fact that this old man’s life will not last more than two days – in fact, he could meet death tonight. Inside of me, I cried.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Foley. You still have much time to spend,” I forced myself to smile. He looked at me with a sober face. There was a curve of smile but it was a bitter one. He tried to laugh but he could not.

“Thank you, young lady,” he stopped. “What’s your name?”

“Langley. Erika Langley. You can call me Erika.”

“Thank you, Erika. It was so sweet of you to console me that way.” He coughed several times before he continued, “I know my end is near. I could feel death is nearing…” I wept when he said his end is near. I could not possibly believe my ears.

“Please don’t say that…”

“Erika, you really look like my daughter. The only daughter I had,” he paused for a while, asking me to take the glass to his withered mouth. He closed his eyes and took a very deep breath. Tears seemed to well up in his eyes.

“Why are you crying, Mr. Foley? Is there anything made you feel uncomfortable? If there is anything I could help, please inform me,” I said calmly.

“No, dear Erika. Nothing irritates me but the memory of my daughter.” He seemed to force himself much into speaking. “The beautiful eyes you have there; your black, silky hair. Yes, you resemble almost every inch of her.” He smiled bitterly. I smiled too.

“You must love her so much, Mr. Foley…” I exclaimed. “I guess both of you must be very close.” I grinned with the idea I have just expressed but the old man seemed to scowl in agony. I wanted to say another words but he interrupted in monologue,

“…it was twenty years ago since I last saw her, twenty years ago since I talked to her; it was twenty years ago since I caressed her silky hair,” he stared beyond the space before continued, “I really wish she could be here by my side. I wish I could say how much I missed her. I wish I could caress her silky hair one last time before I die…”

The room was in silence for a moment. I could see outside the window leaves from birch trees were solemnly falling, as if they were feeling sorry for this old man here. The old man moved his left hand with much difficulty only to rub his face. To wipe away the well-upped tears. I was touched and I do not know what to do t the time but I dared myself to ask,

“She- I mean your daughter, can’t possibly…dead?” I blamed myself profoundly for asking such stupid question. How could I add some more pain to this old fellow? I looked into his eyes with sympathy but he laughed. I was astounded.

“She’s alive. She should live happily with Rick right now in , I hope,” he smiled then the dark expression returned. I simply cannot help myself from asking.

“I thought she’s dead…”

“She’s alive but she is dead to me.” I was shocked. How could she be dead when she is still alive? I was confused. “We had an argument twenty years ago. A small argument that kept us apart for twenty years. Since then, I never had a chance to talk to her again.” He was in silence again. He breathed in slowly but deeply, appreciating every moment he still has. I wanted to ask what had happened then but I dared not to. He suddenly burst out,

“One day, she came home with Rick. She told me that she wanted to marry Rick immediately but I objected. I just want her to further her study to college before thinking about marriage,” he coughed several times. I rubbed his chest softly to ease the pain. He breathed in slowly and with such a difficulty he continued,

“If only I’d been a bit less firm with my decision, she would have stayed. I was not a good father. I was only thinking about what I want despite what she wants with her life. That’s why she left…and she sent me a Christmas card ten years ago, only to tell that she had her first son. That was the first and the last.” Tears were slowly streaming down his face. I could feel the great remorse haunting him. His voice grew weaker and stuck at times. “Could you please do me a favour, young lady?”

“My pleasure, Mr. Foley.”

“Please call my daughter and tell her that I want to see her one last time before I die…” he closed his eyes slowly.

Upon hearing the phrase ‘before I die’, I cannot help my tears from rolling down my cheeks. I do not want the old man to see it so I turned my back against him and walk slowly to the opened door. Before closing the door, I said, “Don’t worry, Mr. Foley. I’ll call her immediately.” I glanced at him once again before I closed the door. Please stay alive, Mr. Foley.

Right on the registration counter was the patient register book. It was blue in colour and was wrapped beautifully with plastic wrapper. Without any hesitation, I flipped through the book and looked up for the name of the patient’s relative. I beamed with satisfaction when I found ‘Dana Foley’, written on the page. Immediately, I reached the telephone and dialled the contact number. Nobody answered. I was disappointed, so I gave another try. This time, a heard a soft voice answered sleepily,

“Hello,” she yawned. “Can I help you?”

“Good morning, madam,” I started. “I’m so sorry because I call you very early in the morning. I’m looking for Ms. Dana Foley. May I speak to her please?”

“Oh, it’s okay. I’m Dana but now I’m Dana Falkner.”

“It’s doesn’t matter much,” I interjected. “Please do come here to this hospital. Your father wants to see you. He is dying…please come here at once.”

“Dad…is dying? Why he hadn’t told me he’s in hospital.” Although it was not clear, I know she was weeping quietly. I could hear her blaming herself intensely.

“Please come immediately. He needs you now…blaming yourself like that won’t help,” I tried to comfort her.

“Thank you, miss. Please give me the address and I’ll be there in about forty minutes.” Without waiting for another minute, I gave her the address and before I end the conversation, she suddenly said, “Miss, please look after my father until I arrive.”

“You can count on me…”

The night was cold and lonely. I glanced at the monitor. It was 3.20 a.m. I paced slowly towards room 303. I entered the room with a smile and I said, ”she’ll be here in forty minutes.” He smiled.

There was silence between us.

“Erika, I feel like death is just next to me,” he burst out. I moved close to him and tenderly grabbed his weakened hand.

“Don’t say that, Mr. Foley. God loves us all. He will let you see your daughter once again…” I wept silent tears. The old man moved his right hand to wipe my tears.

“I hope God hears you. Could you please get me a pen and a piece of paper?” he tried to change the topic but I simply could not ignore his request, so I went out to the counter. I took the items he asked and handed them to him. He received them with a bitter smile. Before I walked away, I whispered to him,

“You remind me of my father…” He gave me a warm smile.

“I’ll be at the counter if you need anything,” I uttered. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ring the alert bell. I’ll be here.” I promised him. Actually I could not stay there without weeping to see this old man dying. I walked out the room with tears welled up in my eyes.

As I walked through the hallway, I thought of my father at home. Dad, I love you. I sat at the counter quietly, waiting…

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

            Forty minutes passed by very slowly but still, no sign from Dana. I waited another minute patiently. Suddenly I felt the urge to go to see Mr. Foley in room 303. I went to the room with prayers in my heart. However, I entered the room only to see a stiffened body on the cold bed. He breathed his last breath…

            Seeing him dead, I could not help but feeling sorry for myself. I went out to the hallway. With my back against the cold wall, I cupped my face with my both hands. I wept. I tilted my head heavenward.

            “O God! Why wouldn’t You give him another chance? He wanted so much to see his daughter…to make everything right once again,” I wept. At the time, I heard a soft trembling voice said,

            “Say it again. Don’t tell me my father is dead. This can’t be true!” she cried loudly.  “Dad!” As she cried, she rushed into the room. I could not help myself but to follow her.

            Inside the room, there was no other sound but the loud sobbing. She was calling her father’s name repeatedly while hugging the dead body tightly. Touched, I did not know what to do. I could only watch the heart-rending reunion between a daughter and his father.

            “…maybe he left you a note,” I tried to comfort her. Upon hearing me, she immediately searched for the piece of paper. It was well-folded within the old man’s right palm. She took the note and unfolded it carefully. It was written there:

Dear Dana my sweetheart,

         My end is near. I wish to see you once again but I don’t know whether I will have the chance. I’m truly sorry for disputing your choice. I was only thinking about your future but I was wrong then. I know you’re happy with Rick and I’m happy for you. But my heart was broken when you ran away from home. Let bygones be bygones for now. I forgive your every sin. I love you, Dana.

                                                       Your Daddy

            She collapsed to the floor but there was a smile on her glossy lips. I moved closer to her from behind and wrapped my arms around her. Her body was trembling greatly.

            “I was a fool. My dad loved me from the beginning but I was blinded by love to another person,” she said. Silence.

            I whispered to her ears, “He never hates you…”

            She nodded her head slowly. “Yes, he never hates me even though I was so cold to him. In fact, he has forgiven me of all my sins…” There was a long pause before she said,

            “Thank you, miss. Now he can rest in peace. Now I can live in peace.” Then, she smiled. It was the warmest smile I saw that night. I, too, was smiling. Thank God for letting me witness this meaningful event, I said to myself.

            As I walked down the quiet path, I smiled at myself, now that everything turned out fine and I am grateful that I still have my father…

~THE END~

Peace be upon everyone!

Huu~ This is my first entry ere. Actually Suhaimi introduced me to this web. He used hyperbole in exaggeratin bout this web - can load lotsa vids, pics etc. So, why not giv it a try...nothin to lose on my part. However, after signin in (even though I'm still not used to this webpage yet), I can say that vox is quite interestin. It has quite a nice features and quite easy to use too...ohoho. Now, everyone can blog like this (ahaha...sounds like AirAsia ads plak!)

<---------------------------------------------------------------------------------what's this? anyone?

Haa~ This is the door that connects me to the place I could call home (aside from mine in Penang). Behind this door is the place where sweet, sour, bitter, tasteless (etc., etc.) experience gained. Most of em. Sesemi, Panje, Otai, Dobok, Wan, Pert, Mezoh, Mali, Anep, Shah Tsunami, Mat Jac, Pok Jak. Arigato gozaimas, minna-san! Aiseh...how come I forgot bout Ja-are and Topek? Yeah...they are included. It is because of u guyz I learnt the true meaning of frenship, thru the ups and downs we'd faced altogether...thanx, minna-san!