Now and the 80s.

(Discretion: I'm talking vaguely. If you understood that's great, you got the basics. Here's a cookie for you.)

If you talk with boomers about the 80s where economy everywhere was somewhat at its best, trying to compare today's era and then is like comparing stone age and today. This idea of comparison came due to the current batshit & shitshow situation we are in now. Everyone's affected.

Democracy 101: I really believe every citizens should have the right to vote. And that elected official should be given the time, to deliver their manifesto. It is every citizens sacred duty to go out & vote.

But with COVID 19 in this era and so on, that's kinda impossible right? You don't have to look far at India to see what happened. I mean, there's Sabah. You already knew who did what. 

The system crumbles within - not due to the parties or grassroots itself but the elites. The painful reality that no one sees is once you joined politics, your hands are "dirty". Over the years, you could see much of "rebranding" done after what happened last year. 

What bothers me the most isn't the fact that we hoped for a change or it is still the same product with a different design box. Yes, I am mad but that isn't the root of the madness going on. "Ah I've seen this man before", says we who came unsurprised. It isn't also the fact that people did nothing right after that. No one wants to die & aggravate the situation much more worse! Especially not knowing the cure for COVID that time!

And special attention not knowing what happens to the poor and already desperate middle incomers. Oh, and the young! So no one can go demonstrate or do anything. But to rely and believe the government can solve things.

So what is it really that I am stress about? There are two things. Idiocy and incompetence.

We knew about "politics are dirty" and that once you got yourself involved, basically your life is a reality TV show with a more expandable character than Kardashians and more harder to keep up to. Hence, we knew about how elites rule in every other way that is known to the open source information that we have in the internet. 

You, as a politician could deny where and how did some gross amount of coins came into your bank account. Or you can just admit but tell other things, by cutting off your weakest link. Politics is a game of chess. Go big or go home - certainly not for you if you love to cry and rant to your social media. You can gain supporters from your symphatizers & that's what young people of my age do but really - you're just another replaceable pawn. The elites 1 and you: 0.

The problem in idiocy it isn't those who are in power and still have control for their "continuity to live". But it is the people, who let the same person to be relevant in these era where they should just go out and retire. We knew that the elites are people from the same circle but after tracing some bank accounts and for some clues of "the blunders" in our country, there are still people who were blind to the fact that our country was going in a healthy direction back in 2018.

It is still shocking to know that there are people who wish it was like the 80s where everything was great. Banks and business were flourishing. KLCC and high rise buildings are on the way. Definitely the living conditions changed and Malaysia was a perfect destination for foreign investors. Don't believe what I'm saying? Asian countries really believed they are in economic miracle. 

What people don't remember is what happened in the stock crash. Perhaps some sort of amnesia, or probably because oblivious to know that the market fixes "by itself". Hence, everything was fine except for what happens after that. Problem is, the rich gets richer. And you, poorer. You really believed your life was improving but that's because life was adapting itself in a technology which makes your everyday life easier; washing your clothes can be done with washing machine, you don't need the noisy typwriter if you earn yourself a Microsoft Word or even a smartphone! What else I can say? What has really change in terms of living expenses and technology? 

In the late 80s, we were able to shift ourselves from reliance in agriculture to IT. Because we really believed that was our future at the time. Probably because, yes! We put the right people in their rightfully deserved post by election! I repeat, PROBABLY.

But with time, people get drunk out of successes they made. Power, what used to be as a mandate now becomes a tool for oppression and opium. And that's when incompetency comes in place. Should our eyes are wide open to the batshit that is happening and that we keep them in power, I call that idiocy and incompetence combined. We fail as citizens. To keep the power for checks and balances. We fail to protect the needy.

These elites will stay in power as they have an agenda. You? What do you have? But to keep your business going, they have the money. You don't. You need permissions. The dilemma stands. Hence, the cycle. Hence, the idiocy. Hence, the incompetency.

So what has changed since the 80s until today? Should we just be proud of what we achieved back then, only to cover the salt already in our wound? Or should we just watch it burn, as we have watched the brain drain where countless of talented Malaysians who migrated to other countries? But whose fault again, was it? Who denied their rights as Malaysians to live normally & enjoy their status as free citizen who should be able to give back to their country - suddenly ran away? What happened to the IT dream that we had back then? Shouldn't we be able to produce more than just new models of Proton cars or more yields of palm oil industry? Why are we still having the similar narrative since 1957 in order to protect our pockets, based on ethnicity that we are born into? Shouldn't plans be revised and revisited?

I question all of this because I love my country. 

Imagine that we used to send satellites to space. We invested those huge chunk of money and we had satellite TV where back then only the rich could afford, now almost everyone could. We made life easier back then but these elites were busy enjoying food from high above, which probably they are still doing the same thing in these hard times. The thing that I couldn't fathom is rich kids barking at the wrong tree.

What I hoped to see is Malaysians all kinds of age and ethnicity, realized that change must take account of time. To see that we have stagnated, not being able to cope with the global industrialization which lead us to the similar lifestyle and political atmosphere where nothing has changed. Same faces in political ruling arena is never a great indocator as history has shown power absolutely corrupts. The bigger context is, we should've earned more - better way of living and better access to education. No one should suffer under the terms of being barred from basic rights and needs, especially in this harsh times. The world revolves around and the era of dinosaurs roam the earth have long gone. Over the years, people around earth have adapted to the most harshest conditions and improves their ways of living. So must we. 

It is not the time to compare which era was the best (especially among boomers), certainly not the best thing to do when you don't have both of your feet resting on the ground.

Asyraf Amir. 20210702.

My Way.

When I looked at my past pictures, I realized that I didn't live a quiet life. Quite contrary to how I lived my life in the past, there is a stark contrast of between adventurism and mundane journey.

I made the most of my off days by staying at home and visiting my buddies when I was in university. Not to forget Izzul who was my desk mate back in RMC.

I did have few laughs with them. Bantering few shorts of old stories but in there, I saw my old self. Back then, I involved myself with a lot of volunteering and even student activism since I was a political science student. I was really active in societies.

Of course all that wonderful life had ups and downs. It wasn't all down to a beautiful road. It made me what I am.

The only problem was the mindset that I had at the time was fighting to believe what was right. Idealism and reality often conflicted between what could be accomplished and what couldn't. As I jumped into working life, that became harder as you have a hierarchical system you need to work with.

Being yourself and having your own individuality as your personal image diminished even more when you got yourself to a uniformed body.

I don't like being hypocrite about what was right and wrong. But being in a system which people look towards you as someone to refer to, I had to set an example. And that is even harder to stay true to yourself. How do you expect to be straight as a ruler 24 hours following rules? You have to adapt and be flexible. I don't myself struggling in that area. Just as any other person, everyone is learning the process.

It took me awhile to realize why did I chose to be as a uniformed personnel. I love my country. I want to serve with the way that I love. I didn't want to be stagnant. I want a life that does not bring trouble to anyone. I want to be at peace, even if I know that will be a bit difficult. Back then I was driven by ideas of socialism. I now have to adapt with my current life. I couldn't be crossing roads with anyone whom disagrees woth what I am doing, even if that matters between doing the right and wrong thing to do.

What I could do is to continue to be myself in my own way. I will be studious, work hard and live happily. I'll have to be patient and keep unnecessary feelings away.

I will be myself in my own way.

Asyraf Amir. 20200620.

Sutradara Senja di Tepi Laut.

Apa yang kau mahu terangkan?

Hujan yang curah,
Tak punya senang basahkan api yang membara.
Antara cinta dan benci,
Inikan pula soal darjat.

Tuntas kau menyimpul soal.
Pantas tanpa mencakna sementara.

"Langit tak selalu cerah", kata orang.

Sudahlah, dewiku.
Haripun kian senja.

Seelok kau tahu,
Setelah kau menarik picu ke arah jiwaku.
Jasadku mati di sini.
Bukan sebagai perwira.

Sisipan masa ini.
Aku kira,
Tiada suntingan yang dikira lancung.
Tidak pula jelas murni dari hatimu.
Aku tahu bukan maksudmu.
Menolak diriku,
Tersimbur di hujung perahu.

Aku kaku dibalik mimpi buruk ini.
Bisu menderita,
Dalam sutradara yang berlaku beku.

Baliklah kepada aku.
Akulah rumahmu yang kau rindukan.

Asyraf Amir. 20200515.

On Short Stories

I guess it seems pretty odd to some of you here as you'll find my posts are lately on none other than short stories. There's an oddball to catch when there's nothing to do, that's for sure. But I guess something needs to be done with the extra amount of free time rather than having it amount to nothing.

I find writing short stories is like seeing through another person's lenses. How does the other person feels like when they fall in love? Or how does it feels like when you're supposed to laugh when others does not? Feelings, they're really hard to articulate. In other times, I find myself out of words to express or putting it into sentences that perfectly tells about what I felt.

If you read a lot of other existentialists like Alfred Camus or Nietzsche, their ideas are often articulated in form of short stories. Now I'm far from their level. Not knowing where would I even get with my writings and at the same time, juggling with my current affairs and mainly my job. At times, projecting what you felt uncomfortable or inconvenience - whether it'd be truths or new ideas sometimes backfires you. You couldn't be too loud or too convinced on a subject; especially regarding politics or current affairs. Especially if you're working with the government. Too soft or too quiet, you'll probably never will be heard or merely forgotten.

My storylines are often not straightforward. What was planned for the plot was simple. For example, a guy named Ali wakes up from the bed, goes for breakfast and saw his boss on the way to work. Sometimes, I could drag on the storyline leaving to what ends - I don't know myself and that's pretty bad when you wanted to write something. It is disorganized. But nothing is written out without any sketch, I believed.

Short stories provided readers insights to possibilities of what others might be thinking. It is an alternate character which at times, I drew parallels between myself and characters I made. Perhaps differing in terms of the setting of the story.

I couldn't possibly be a school girl since I am a male whose life has solely been studying at an all boys school. But had you known any better, who knew you could've make insights from someone's eye about the world.

But that is all to there.

Asyraf Amir. 20200426.

Europe.

I lived in Switzerland and France when I was a kid. Two years in Swiss and three in France. A half year in UK. I've been to most parts of Europe basically in my whole lifetime.

Maybe you heard much about how smelly the whole Europe is. Paris had dog shit all over the place. London city streets are just pissing rain everywhere. Russia's metro stations sums up pretty much on how the whole Europe's train stations smell.

Really. To think over that again, Eiffel Tower doesn't have much fascination at all as per postcards compared to our very own KLCC. What is so great about lavender fields in the Netherlands compared to our Cameron Highlands tea farms? Again, we heard much from other people who said pretty much same thing over and over again.

Tweets after tweets. Maybe instead of seeing Arc de Triomphe & London Bridge, it's just better to look elsewhere in our own country or Asia basically.

I would say these views are entitled and highly opiniated. It's not as simple as that.

Yes, there are pros and cons. Good views but pickpockets are everywhere. If you're lucky or just simply unlucky, you get to experience seeing mass protests, general strikes and civil unrest all in Europe. These people however consider themselves it's normal but probably, not us.

I'll talk about the good things you might've never known.

Firstly, you might see old relics and buildings which look similar elsewhere in Europe. From one place to another. But have you wondered the story behind all these?

In Paris, you might've seen a mini Statue of Liberty as in the US. But what's so great about it? Gustave Eiffel, the architect who designed Eiffel Tower was the one who created the Statue of Liberty. Some say the statues faced each other in France and US.

You might also say metro stations are smelly but little you knew about how complex but yet, so convenient to users who could change stations at will with ease. I'd say it's easier than Malaysia.

But is it just all? To me, Paris is beautiful. France on the other hand is magnificent. Imagine how hard sculpturs made figures and sculptures so life-sized. Chenonceau are one of the castles that stood on a bridge. The Alps have mountain ranges that stretches across France and Swiss. You want hotdogs and beer? That's Germany. Belgian chocolates could just rival with that of in Swiss. Switzerland was my childhood. The real taste of Neapolitan can only be tasted in Italy. London taught me a lot on how to survive alone in the streets.

I held so much memories in Europe. It may bore you to some bits of its history but look at it; without such advancement in civilization and improvement in humanity, how could great ideas be born & how comfortable could we become?

But of course, of some relics from history there are things you may not like. You might've say "This is from my country" when you go to their museums. These countries, was where conquest and imperialism starts. Whilr that disturbs you bit, you would've fall in love with your own country even more. How far do I get, does not make me forgot about where I come from.

I disagree that Paris, Geneva, London or wherever that is in Europe, is a no-go place to visit. Yes it's true, it might be airy and dirty but the memoir and the history behind it surpasses all the ugly things behind.

Asyraf Amir. 20200216.

If I Had A Wife.

Most people would tell their wishes about marriage. How many guests they wanted to have. How big they want the ceremony. Bla bla bla.

If not about that, they'll be talking about how many cute kids they wanted to raise or how many cats should they breed in their house. The problem is, cats needed attention and by the time you went back in front of your doorstep, she'll beg you to feed her. If that's not the problem, you'll deal with how disgruntled she could be or how she'll make a bitchface to you. Go away, hooman. Meow.

Well at most I'll look forward to honeymoons, like enjoying crazy streetfoods in Indonesia, enjoying cherry blossoms in Japan, enjoying corals and beaches around Malaysia or simply got lost in the borders of Mongolia and China. Doesn't it sound like being in Indiana Jones than a proper honeymoon? That's what I'm after!

But hey, I'm a little different. I look for something you can always repeat or enjoy for an uncountable number of times. You can't expect to fork out a large sum of money to throw a party for an old geezer and a hag. Or you can't expect a grandpa and a grandma doing backflips and summersaults into a waterfall at the age of 70. That's fucking nuts.

So, what will I do? I'll cook her a full course menu.

Yes, you heard it. While she's out busy working in the office, I'll have mega plenty of time to prep.

First thing first is I gotta make sure the oven and stove is alright. Then make a list of menu like what I can prepare.

I personally love steaks. Sous-vide, juicy and medium rare. But more than often I found restaurants that I usually went are appalling. My expectations is simply unworthy for what I paid. So in conclusion, I found solace and ultimate satisfaction in cooking.

But main course doesn't have to be steaks or chicken chops. I also preferred going gung-ho on seafood. Seared scallops, broiled mussels with lemongrass, tuna steak sauced with and basically whole lot more.

Oof. I talked too much. What about appetizer? The most simplest thing you could do is tempura prawns. Sure tempura prawns are laughable. Go ahead. Laugh. But what makes it special is what you serve with it. I found joy to go au pair with Hollandaise sauce.

I'm not sure if my future wife loves cheese. And no. I'm not talking about the cheese you sinfully put in your burgers and bananas. Some of you went extra fucking ridiculous by  putting cheddar on char kuey teow. What the hell?

I love blue cheese. I love the melting sensation in the mouth, leaving a unique after taste, eaten with crackers or enjoyed with a creamy soup. I've tasted gouda and swiss cheese. But I found the creamier the cheese is, the better. Like, gorgonzola. Heh.

And then desserts. Apple crumble is great but have you tried apple meringue? People rarely do meringue with apple but I find the sweet and sour taste goes well with the texture of the baked whipped cream on top.

But forget about meringues with ice cream for a while. It all seems too plain. Not a single one of you thought about Mont Blanc or Tiramisu. Do you? I'll have all the biscotti soaked in espresso. Usually Tiramisu recipes had alcohol in it. To emulate the taste, I'll replace it with carbonated water or infusing tonic with sweetened vanilla. I've done Tiramisu before but I've not made the ones with alcohol replacement. I'm gonna find out later in the holidays. Next, I'm gonna whip all those white eggs with heavy cream. Ha! Jokes on you. Who the hell said I'm gonna waste everything? That yolk I separated can be used to make Hollandaise sauce.  With layers of biscotti and cream alternating, next will be grating a bar of dark chocolate on top, sprinkling some nutmeg too on top. Now usually people opt for Milo but fucking hell guys for once, leave Milo aside for this special occasion. Come on. Buy anything you think it's different and you can get a decent amount of price. I choose a bar of Lindt dark chocolate because I like the taste and how it melts in mouth after biting.

Finally just right after she got home, I'll forcefully push her to the bathroom to shower and asked her to surprise my eyes of what she'll wear. Put some cologne and perm the hair. I like women with perms. But if she doesn't like it well doesn't matter. I'll just wear my usual black slacks and flowery motifs long sleeves. Who needs ties and tux when you're at home.

As she step into the living room with her black dress, I'll pull the chair for her and settle down. No candles, no problem because my lights are all environmentally friendly and dim (did I mentioned I renovated my room? no, seriously I did).

I'll deliver the full course menu to her. We'll talk and eat over a drink of sparkling juice and mocktails. That joy. After that, we'll have a sexy night. Who cares about other people? We are in our most comfortable place.

But that is, if I had a wife.

The real question is, who'll do the dishes?

Err.
Asyraf Amir. 20190512.

Four Days.

In the glimmer of seeing the light,
You became my opium,
When I first saw you as sunflower on the field.
You became my photographs,
When I should've burn long ago,
Or I should've been forever in that photo.
You became stronger.
When I.
All that is left is my will.
With some faint strength to go on.
You drained my soul,
Whilst hoping I'd weep faster.
As I'll forget you in four days.

If I was someone in your hues,
I should be one of your colors in life.
You'd hope I'd forget you.

Anguish kills the fire.
Cools the hate.
But it does not take the scar away.

It'll pain you forever.
The fire will spark again.
You'll find yourself fighting the fire.
With tears.
In futile.

You can take my life away.
But not my will.

Asyraf Amir. 20190408.

April.

Don't weep, my love.
For the farthest of two hearts,
Are the most difficult thing to do,
When you let your face,
To become a fountain of tears.

Asyraf Amir. 20190405.

Crossroads

“Let’s try to meet again.”

He says, he wasn’t so sure of himself either. Quite unusual for someone to say the first time they have met.

“If we meet again, it sure is fate.” 

“Then what?”  she asked, trying to get where he wanted to get.

“Then, I’ll ask you out?” he figured, just to guess. She smirked, a little skepticism was felt on her side.

Of course. For people to immediately fall in love, that’s something ridiculous to happen. That's because almost no one ever does and you’ll likely to be cheated, at least that’s what he thinks. At the same time, that’s what she thought too. 

They parted, waved off goodbye, with their very own thoughts kept in their hearts, suppressed. And walk on opposite sideways.

Is it possible to be different and be together at the same time?

We all exists in an opposite kind of form. We conform to the law of opposites stated by Marx. Positive and negative atoms have a completely different entity, yet they are attracted to one another. Don’t we somehow exist in that way? How could we be ever separated? In that case, this seems ironic. Isn't he and she supposed to be together in some other ways?

Can we talk about "incompatibility", then?

Days passed by and Haris didn’t even look for her. Never even bugged to get her number on that day, or even wondered where she might be. Of course, the thought of her has never faded from the very moment they parted. He however, still hoping to meet her while doing his daily routine. To the class, to his room, to the cafe and wherever he needs to be.

She, Arissa on the other half does seem to care and expects him to search for her. If the world was somewhat made like a natural radar for everyone, Arissa would hope that Haris appeared on her cross hair. She hopes someday, on some millisecond that they would coincidentally meet each other or he came running down to her proclaiming "finally, I found you". She too, is doing her daily routines. 

Both are waiting, while technically doing nothing to search one another. Waiting like under the night of starry sky, for a meteorite to appear.

On a rainy Thursday, they met at a bus stop. It was already dark and misty from the gusty wind. They first saw each other on a crossroad while holding their own umbrellas. The rain ceased to a light sprinkle as both of them met, nullifying the need of umbrellas.

“Would you call it a fate, if it was with someone else?” she asked.

“I don’t know.” answered Haris.

“Why not?” 

A moment of silence ensued. Haris was running out of words. Arissa was preparing to hear an omen of bad premonition.

“If the feeling wasn’t there I wouldn’t fall for someone so easily. And once I set my eyes, I only look for her.”

“But did you really look for me?”

Silence reiterated again. What was it, that makes both of their tongues swallowed to the back of his throat, Haris wondered. He wanted to scream at his heart's content, but his feelings hindered his voice. Of cowardice and courage, his words froze to Arissa's persistence; the one who had hoped so much but did nothing to get to what she wanted.

“I did. And in a way, I waited. I didn’t want to make it complicated but I tried to look for you even when I didn’t plan to. I knew you wouldn’t be at the pavilion, under the bridge or even the crossroad that we first met. I still wait for you at the same place,” he answered. Haris' words splurge out of nowhere from his mouth. 

“I wouldn’t do it if it was just another person with a different kind of beauty or perfection. I’d probably wouldn’t look for you. But I followed my heart. That’s how I probably got to you,” he continued. 

“But we’re different.” She says. “You're far away from me. You lived in the cities. I lived far off near some village you have never heard off,” she paused. "We’re just different from everything. Our place, ethnicity, everything,”

"I'm sorry," Haris blurted. "I can't understand what I said just now. I can't understand myself,"

Confused and disfigured, both cannot fathom what was going on with their complex feelings. Arissa then blurted, "I can't understand myself either."

“I don't know, but I just know that I like you”, he says. 

"I like you too", she said.

Their frozen hands, numbs on a Thursday rainy night sky. With their umbrellas already closed, a kiss broke through their moisty lips, swallowing all awkwardness, fears and worries of being watched. Where did all that courage mustered, was all Haris could ever wondered of. 

The "barrier" has been dissipated. Was it a lie to assure each of their hearts are fated with their feelings entwined, that is something no one could ever be sure of. The case is now closed; with that passionate kiss under the yellow streetlights. No buses and people are in sight, to be as witnesses of the event. 

But for their very own reasons, they do not meet each other again. Who knew again, that both of them matured into something else that has been going 5 years ago. To each their own, following a thread of fate and got entangled into someone else's story. That was five years ago. Five years ago. If this is read by people and this story be passed on going from the year it was told, that'll be some years ago.

It is a lopsided story. For those who have never felt love as such, will probably say this is the most absurd form of love. Haris and Arissa have never felt love but lust, they say. Little do they know if it were to happen to their own story, they'd be thrown into illusive form of self-denial, thrown into the complexity of love. It does not make sense. It will never make any sense. What you saw yourself in the mirror was just irrationality. But that is love. It makes you irrational.

For Haris and Arissa, their hands and hearts were intact to know what they wanted at the time. Whereas the space and time continuum goes on, their love thrives through an energy that burns out of the feeling of loneliness and fears. Finally, their love was so short-live. Only to leave traces of past time, which one and another was connected through time and space.

Some of you ask, why didn't they stay together?

Probably because of fate, does not allow them do so.

The kiss and the feelings stayed, only as a secret to remember.

Asyraf Amir. 20161210.

*

I looked at the date created from the properties of the document, it was December 10th 2016.

I could be studying but I also could be procrastinating out of writing.

Or that I smoke too much.

Could be.

Asyraf Amir. 20190322.

The Fault Between Equality & Feminism.

"Men are Trash".

I am born as a male. I grew up to become a man. But did I deserve to be called "trash"?

For starters, I am able to write this long because I want the whole world to know that there is no need for us to use "men are trash" or "women are trash". No, I am not in a bitter mode and I am not having any break ups or so.

Supposed if I write this, there'll be many others who will raise up their hands and say "this is about discrimination against women". These people, they know that there'll be another group of people who'll say "not every men are trash" and they admit that the term is used against those who discriminate women. So on and so forth.

I reiterate; I support feminism, the one that promotes gender equality and against discrimination for both sexes.

Ladies & gentlemen, what are we as youth teaching the next generation about "feminism"? Do we need radical or extreme feminism?

Let's not divert the attention. Arguments are mostly coming from women who went on relationship and broke up with their partner for various reasons. Particularly young women referring to their partners as trash and saying "men are prone to cheating". Statistically, it is correct. However it should be noted that there are circumstances which the women are wrong.

When men say "women are trash", all hell breaks loose. Then, there's the question of double standard where many will start saying "it's her choice" or "she shouldn't be treated like that".

What's even more surprising is that when people use these two sentences; "men are trash" or "women are trash", we have to explain towards the masses twice about "not all men/women are trash!"

So whichever that I use "women are trash" or "men are trash", it doesn't matter because people get the part "not every men/women are trash". Is that it?

For over 100 years, our predecessors have fought against the narratives of colonialism, imperialism, patriarchy, racism, oppression and slavery of which you still see the extreme elements of these ideas are still there. The derogatory term of "negro", stereotyping races and religion and the list goes on. It is all still there.

The narrative of saying "Malays are lazy" & "Chinese are bunch of capitalists" - it is still there! And we have to sort of explain to people twice about "not all" part. I'm not going to touch on the issue for opportunists because that is another issue.

How many of you know about women's right to education? How many of you heard about women's suffrage (right to vote)? How many of you address the issue of male's rape equally to female's rape?

Does the name Emmeline Pankhurst ring a bell? Katherine Goble Johnson?

Forget about those big names. What about Shamsiah Fakeh, Aishah Ghani and Sakinah Junid? The ones who fought for equality and women's voice in politics back then in Malaysia?

Nothing. The ones we ever seriously discuss about (and still keep talking about it!) are the ones about relationships. The ones what is best about a boyfriend and girlfriend. If this keep going on, a person one day may say "feminism has lost its track from its original struggle".

I understood the evolving issues. I admit that people need to comprehend the evolving challenges which people have to adapt and troubleshoot new problems that needed newer ideas. But today, we are heading to a dangerous direction, in which a more radical or extreme ideas of feminism will be borne.

There is no doubt regarding our stance in fighting issues such as domestic abuse, underage marriage and honor killings is still rampant. In other words, the idea of extreme patriarchy persists. 

Specifying feminism solely on the issue of relationship is narrow minded. It's not to say feminism does not have a say, is not needed or does not serve its purposes. It does. In fact, it has defended several times but often the idea is sort of tainted by those who think "the world is all for themselves".

We do not need to use "women are trash" and "men are trash" narrative, then explaining to people about the "not all" context to everyone. It's a never-ending pointless debate. At times, it does not have anything to do with gender. A quarrel between a boyfriend and girlfriend; the boyfriend cheats. Heck, anyone can cheat. If it's the woman cheating, what do we call it? Women are trash? We don't need it. We treat people the same respect as how we want to be treated. We all have dignity. There is no need to public shaming a person's face over the internet. If a crime is done there, report it so justice will be served.

We have to pay attention to what values are we teaching the next generation. What shapes us as society. What needs to defended and what needs to eliminated whether it is coming from our culture and perspective.

Relationships are an opportunity for us to grow. It is a platform to learn more about life, serving you hands-on lessons where did you go wrong and what can you do right later to avoid similar mistakes in the future. If that kind of thinking does not work for you, we all know who is wrong.

For that, I rest my case.

Asyraf Amir. 20181227.

Kelambu

Sayang
Tidaklah aku jemu dengan alur wajahmu
Bersama cahaya Kuala Lumpur memintas helaian rambutmu
Igauan yang merajutkan fikiranku

Jika
Dapatku capai bayu tubuhmu
Lelaplah kita dalam kelambu bintang
Lupakan saja kesibukan kota & kerja

Siang
Teras matahari subuh bakal memancar
Asap dua puntung sigaret memenuhi ruang
Di bawah lampu aku menunggu kamu

Asyraf Amir. 20180827.

Untai Kata.

Salam.

Jam menunjukkan 2.06AM dan mata aku tak lekang dari telefon. Tapi cukup lama aku bukukan dalam hati aku. Sekarang aku mahu luahkan.

Ada beberapa orang bertanya, kenapa aku kurang menulis di sini. Inilah alasan aku.

Banyak karya aku simpan dalam buku buruk. Buku buruk inilah aku panggil "jurnal". Segala isi hati, ilham & buah fikiran aku conteng di situ. Sempurna atau tidak, itu cerita kedua.

Dalam jurnal aku, ada cerpen, puisi & prosa. Tak ramai yang tahu, aku sebenarnya minat sastera sejak aku sekolah rendah lagi. Lagi terkejut bila orang tahu aku tulis puisi Bahasa Melayu, sebab hampir semua karya aku dalam Bahasa Inggeris.

Seperti karyawan lain, Pak Sako, Haruki Murakami, Nizar Qabbani, Yukio Mishima, Chairilanwar & lain-lain, aku juga berhasrat untuk membukukan karya aku satu hari nanti.

Pernah aku menjadi penulis freelance seketika, mengulas politik semasa sewaktu aku menganggur. Dari pengalaman itulah baru aku merasa, sukarnya menjadi seorang penulis.

Hari demi hari, terus berlalu. Cita-cita aku menjadi komitmen utama. Aku mahu berjuang untuk negara. Hasrat aku sejak di bangku sekolah untuk membukukan karya aku sendiri tertunggak sehingga aku bekerja hari ini.

Perasaan blogging dan menulis amatlah lain bagi aku. Selalunya aku akan tulis dulu dalam jurnal, baru aku publish dekat sini. Dah lama juga aku simpan blog ini, tak ramai yang teruskan untuk kekalkan blog sendiri. Cukup tahun depan kalau aku simpan blog ini lagi, kiranya sudah genap 10 tahun aku luahkan isi hati aku dekat sini. Kalian boleh lihat sendiri kematangan penulisan aku sejak 2009 hingga hari ini.

Tapi lama kelamaan, aku jumpa ketenangan bila aku tulis atas jurnal aku. Mulanya aku fikir, "post nanti sajalah". Tangguhan ini lama kelamaan menjadi satu tabiat sampai aku persoalkan "eh, buat apa aku post?"

Hasrat murni aku blogging adalah untuk "memberi harapan & buah fikiran". Waktu itu aku sedih sangat & tak ada orang nak bercerita. "Bakat" dah ada, tinggal nak tulis saja.

Sayangnya, "bakat" yang aku ada inilah tidak dikembang sepenuhnya dulu. Mungkin kurang didikan, tiada mentor atau editor yang boleh memberi sepatah dua kata. Tak kisah lah kritik, kutuk & apapun. Janji ilmu. Tapi barangkali aku harus jadi seperti Murakami, yang bukukan karyanya dalam lingkungan 29-30 tahun. Untuk menjadi penulis yang hebat, kau perlukan pengalaman hidup. Dan pengalaman hiduplah satu perkara yang "mahal" untuk aku ada. Tapi itu dulu.  Sekarang mungkin aku lebih bersedia. Cuma masa menulis aku amatlat suntuk sekarang.

Aku akan simpan blog aku, sebab aku percaya kalau jasad manusia itu mati, karyanya tidak. Karya aku akan hidup 1000 tahun.

Doakan saja aku sihat & berjaya di UK. Doakan saja aku mampu keluarkan buku satu hari nanti.

Asyraf Amir. 20180903.

Bridge.

Hello.

If life is like a hanging bridge, I'd be swaying in the middle. Not knowing if I would fall & only to hope I'd stay alive.

I never really expect the world to understand the depth of my problems.

But let's say I'd fall and die?

I guess I wouldn't really mind.

I'll write another one these one or two days.

Asyraf Amir. 20180830.

I ditched writing for a very long time.

I've never wrote such a long title to write something.

Blogger used to be something that I used to express myself. I didn't remember when that ever changed however, I think at times it bothered me. It irritates me when I ask myself "why didn't I write today" question after something momentous happened in my life. At the time, I felt the sense of insecurity of "what ifs" in every narrative I wrote. I wanted to write about happiness, but there was a worrying factor of what will happen. In fact, it didn't even happen. And I hate the fact that I speculated something that I didn't even wanted to happen. Which later became half-way written or just scrapped to the bin.

Fuck. Do I even make sense to you guys?

What's new about me?

I've always thought of the idea of making peace with your past.
Let's say you had unsettled feelings with your old friends who fought with you in the past and you wanted to make sure that you & him are in good terms or at least, forgiven each other.

Or you have unsettled feelings with your ex and you wanted to make sure that at least, both sides forgiven each other.

In that way, you can move on with your life without having any sense of regrets.

Tell you what, it works!

After I went for a Navy interview, I packed my bags to leave for Sarawak. And I thought about it for a very long time. It was the "fuck it, whatever happens, happens" feeling. And so I did. It was the perfect time since I already passed my portfolio and released my post to officially to my boss. Then I was free as a bird.

I landed Kuching at exactly 1900H. 7.00PM.

The feeling when I landed Kuching was momentous. I was excited. Looking forward to meet everyone. And when I arrived UNIMAS, the east gate was the same as ever when I first arrived there 3 years ago.

The week I spent was mostly related to PALAPES things. But it wasn't so much as I had experienced as a cadet. What was more exciting than this was seeing back my old life. The trees that I see everyday, the air that I smelled everyday, the people that I meet everyday. Those things had never seemed to disappear from the back of my mind.

I did everything that I could. From laughing like mad to pulling pranks like I never really got to do when I was working. It was fun.

The night that I stepped away from the airport, I felt sad for my friend Shaikh who sent me on Tuesday. I later knew today he was sending a friend of mine, who will be reporting to become Air Force officer. I didn't get Air Force because there wasn't any placement.

Then they put me into Navy. There you go. One Navy, One Air Force.

The fact that my friend had to sent two guys to the airport for one final time was saddest moment of all. We never knew if that could be one of the last few moments we see each other.

And that was the same thing as everyone else.

I also looked back to the lake that I fell in love with a girl back then. Next to the UNIMAS lake. It was pleasing sight, in fact memorable. But a story is a story to be remembered. I will well remember the moments and move on. I had nothing else to lose.

Goodbye Sarawak. I missed everyone of you.

And everyone of you will be missed.

Asyraf Amir. 20180413.

Sarawakku.

Dalam savana belantara, 

Kabus menyelubungi pentas awana.
Deru angin membelai pipi yang gebu.
Di situ lah hatiku melabuh sauh.

Malam beribu kejora.
Kala warna bumi senja merubah gelap.
Di hilir negeri ini bukan asalku.
Tapi di sinilah tumpahnya darahku.

Dari liku sungai ke penjuru Kuching.
Usah bermudik sekah ke kota.
Mataku digoda si gadis ayu.
Di tebing permai itulah tercicirnya cintaku.

Oh Sarawak.
Kalau bayumu mendakap dari Santubong.
Sampaikan salamku dari Semenanjung.
Anakmu merindu sua rasa halamanmu.

Asyraf Amir. 20171204.
_________________________

If there's only one place where I'd love to return, it is Sarawak.

Happy New Year, everyone.

Asyraf Amir. 20180101.

4.44AM.

My eyes are hazy. 

I've been staring at Twitter for such a good long time that I had no idea what to write, RT or like anything there.

It's stupid because I should've just sleep. Gotta wake up at 6.00AM. 

But I still wanna write a story. Heh.

A total fiction. 

***

"He rides to the most remote place. A place where discontented heart would find itself in peace." 

Was there such place? 

Where could've you gone with just a motorcycle? But hey, nothing is ever impossible. Che Guevara toured South America on a bike at his first trip. The rest was on foot and a raft. 

"But he is nowhere near wanting to tour such a long journey. Let alone the purpose - they are far too different from what he has in his mind." 

My wristwatch says it's 4.44AM. 

"A quarter yard away from him is the forest. And the breeze touched his cheeks. Flicks his hair like a book blown in the wind. It is shivering cold. Never such coldness of being alone was felt after a long time."

"Never such coldness of being alone was felt after a long time."

Did that even make sense?

Was that how I sound if my life was written in a third person point of view? It sounded odd. But here I am. 

I am not at a beach. Even nowhere far from where I stayed of my university. But this nature has brought me closer to what should I write for the next 45 minutes. Why 45 minutes? That's all the time I got, before sunrise.

But now reminiscing the memories I've spent much here. Just here - at this place. 

Now the trees made a swooshing noise and birds flew overhead. Not far was a soundless thunder, flashing in the horizon from where I am. 

From where I am - under the shade of my balcony. 

Perhaps this would be the pinnacle of my youth. I couldn't accept the vanity of adult life. How does one smiles to another and pretends to be good in front of the people whom you do not even like? Why do we often have to suppress what we really felt and showed the feelings that we did not meant?

The freedom of expression in the adult world, has been killed. The world was limited to none but those that held the orb and the baton - those who have the wealth, power and position.

If I have to stay being 23, I would forever be that age. 

But only the dead stays 23. 

If I have to blame at each adults for their vain world, perhaps that would be the most idiotic things one could ever do. They would just simply tag you as "immature". They just haven't felt this immense feeling - this colorful life that I felt being young. 

And if not for the matter.

If not for the matter - look at the stars. 

If you seemingly try to catch it with your bare hands, you'll caught nothing but thin layers of misty air. Or just simply nothing.

The stars - are like my dreams. They are the proof of me being young. This is my world. But everyone knows, no one shall be forever young. 

If one day I'll get sucked into a wormhole in the space, I might return to the present realm as 23 year old guy. But chances things happens like that are 1 to a millions of light years of that would ever happen.

This freedom. This liberty.

The feeling of knowing the vast world are just waiting for you to be ventured. The feeling of wanting to learn much from elsewhere and anywhere around the universe. This is my world. 

In the case where I have to be one of those adults, probably I'd play the characters that are available. Perhaps as the person who just plays safe for his own career. But that's just not me. Because if I ever did that.

The world that I once resided which the borders are boundless and possibilities are limitless, I would betray my own self. 

No fear should ever drown me to lifeless. 

The world, the dreams. They are forever mine as I grow.

***

Wayy past 5.30AM.

Why didn't I just sleep.

Asyraf Amir. 20171030.

Ties, Suits and False Capitalism.

Today, I enjoyed some music of a genre called “vaporwave”. A repetitive video plays out some 80s Japanese Coca-Cola TV ads where men and women enjoying cold Coca-Cola on hot sunny day, while wearing suits and ties.

Vaporwave is a genre of music which samples out jazz to R&B and often takes out satire on consumer capitalism, nostalgic engagements with pop cultures, often from the 80s and sometimes incorporates glitch arts and late 90s web designs for cover art.

While all the focus tends to portray nostalgic moments of the 80s, I’m starting to think us millennials and the Y-generation would soon be portrayed as those cover arts – replacing those of the 80s.

Finding a job had been one of the most difficult thing to do. I don’t even know what to write about myself when there was a survey on the what are the graduates doing. While all the questions seemingly asking me what am I doing currently, I saw there was no option of “still finding a job”. As if of those questions are seeking a definitive answer that wanted me to blurt out, “I am employed”.

So this is how it feels like. The first phase of post-varsity life; landing a job. Unemployment phase.

When I was in school, they’d bring some of the most “successful” people – school’s best alumni to deliver talks. Most talks are about what is the speaker doing. So I, like most other kids glaze at their suits and ties like people seeing NBA superstars right in front of me. Admiring at their success. It’s like an unwritten advertisement trademark, “if you work hard, you’ll become like me”.

Except one thing – they never really tell you the realities you needed to face after school.

But long enough after I went to matrics and finally coming close to graduating officially, I realized those things are just “sugarcoat” about life. The speakers and people who are invited to deliver talks never really did tell you that you have to spend strenuous hours of studying everything you’ve learned in school within 1 or 2 years in matrics, fighting for your place to study at university and the hunger you have to face while being a student.

My interest after graduating, is finding a job. Jobfairs, are one of my list where should I find my job. I graduated from Social Science discipline, Political Science to be exact. But again, I found the same disappointment that I felt when I first graduated from my high school. Everytime I went from one booth to another, handing out my resume and talking about my degree, it made them raise their eyebrow as if they have found an alien landing on their booth. Every booths that I went, have placed me in the Human Resource department application. Which is something I don’t know much about.

However, things become quite surreal after all the hassle and hush between the crowds and lining up people there. Each booths had only wanted one or two people to be absorbed into their company. The massive amount of unemployed people and people who have already tons of experience in their respective field is discerning to me – do I even stand a chance? “Struggling” in these pools of people? What irritates me more is that most booths don’t even want fresh graduates. They simply want people who are already with experience – while most people who came are just freshies like me. And then there’s also booths which asks us to go to their website and send our resumes through email. Something I couldn’t fathom. Why would you open up booths and ask people to send their resumes through email when they are just “right there” in front of you?

“Let’s go back”, I said to my friend after going to all of the booths we went.

He agreed and we went for lunch. After that I sent my friend to a scheduled interview at a local bank. But then something struck my head, why not I just “walk-in”? Coming into the office, they agreed to let me in and asked me to write an essay about Malaysia financial situation. During interview, I apologized that I walked in but the interviewer has said something so remarkable to me. It’s like a light has finally lit at the end of the day – since it was late evening. Close to 7.00PM.

“Hey, it’s okay. If you want something, go get it.” Yeah, yes definitely. I calmly headed the questions and answered their inquiries. I was offered a position in sales.

That was long ago, perhaps a month. No, I received no calls and I assume perhaps I didn’t get it. Maybe not just yet. Or maybe I was just quietly rejected due to my military background and studies. My friend didn’t too, but perhaps he’ll get it one day since he majored in Finance.

Maybe of the ties and suits, there’s a silver lining somewhere out there. I believed it would do no good if one were to be spoonfed about how to face life, but we all deserved to be told what kind of things that we would later face. Not some sugary words. We young people, do not need comformity. Truths at the end of the day, are relative. They differ from one person’s view to another. In anyhow, people should just tell it no matter how bitter it is. Sugarcoated words aren’t motivational, but an opiate that people cling onto false hopes.

Hence, the false capitalism.

What was even more saddening is that there was a jobfair at Kedah which scammed thousands of young people, that took place in early October 2017. They were told that the more they bought their “forms”, the higher the chance that they would be hired.

We youths, are aspiring dreamers. We are so full of our energy, with some of us are just confident of our capabilities. Due to our youthful nature in taking risks, some us dared to push beyond our boundaries. Just to see our glittering dreams and hopes turn to reality. If what you seed are lies, then what you sowed are us youngsters who are living nothing more but in lies. If we are a society whose rooting for nation-building, then take us young people seriously. As the Greek saying, “a society grows great when old men plants trees whose shade they know they shall never sit it”. 

Asyraf Amir. 20171021.

Dawn.

At the dawn of the sun,
She walked around the dew.
With the mist in the early morning.
Lingering around after the rain,
Strangely the roads lead to unknown path.
Why is it so long.
Treading far away from home.
The path led to certain threshold.

I tell you,
Her bust is softer as the silk.
On certain times she was of a bear.
And the lights of the roads shut.
With the bridges torn down and broken.
Shouting her name in darkness.
There was no echo from her.
In silence,
He disbelieved.
Now a defunct entity.
Wither on the vine as he to her.

Dawns here are quiet.
The smog of sulfur and pentane.
Burning down to the seas.
Covering the blue sky and its silver lines.
Dawns here are quiet.
There wasn't anyone but me.
He - who traveled on a lucid dream.
Now extinguishing parasols of anguish.

Asyraf Amir. 20170710.

Just Another Yesterday.

Fiction.

Ken sped his bike, just after the green light blinked from red. The cars around him moved in a parallel motion. His right and left; he was aware of the existence of the cars moving fast around him. He gave a signal to the left, made a turn and parked his Honda CB400. He walked over on the side street, goes to a café nearby and tries to relax. It’s 7.00PM – and nothing has happened. No messages received. No calls were made.

Nothing. It was just the perfect time to relax.

And then Mahler’s “Goodbye” piece was heard, but it was rather strange. Why did it had to be played now? If all humans are just an existence of physicality with their traits, did God made us as a rigid being that whatever we do – was or could be predicted?

The truth and the fact, never came to a surprise. Ken didn’t simply bother of what just happened a year ago. That summer, the hot sun and the chilly wind. It was never something he asked for that a woman would fall for him and within matter of seconds, she left.

It was understandable that she had matters left for her to solve. Just like missing jigsaw puzzles, she was missing a part of her and searching for everywhere. How do we really define ourselves, as ourselves? We all created an imaginative identity, like how a nation was created just like Anderson’s Imagined Community.

We give characteristics and shape how should a nation be, but just like us – we created a definition which we would stick onto for the rest of our lives. Whether he or she is a Marxist, a Christian, a Jew, a Muslim, the happy-go-lucky, the melancholic or whatsoever – it’s a choice that was made but perhaps, it was just a matter of destiny or what we were fated to become of.

That’s what Ken thought, that’s what was troubling him too once upon a time. If we ponder too much on our faith, how can we be sure our hearts are travelling at the right path? But perhaps, people. Some people, didn’t have the chance to really understood themselves.

All this, he puts it like a text written on his mind and analyzes each of the paragraphs. Like a forensic trying to find a clue. We are actually, what we are – literally. We are what we believe, what we are. Why do we need someone to explain who we really are when all these questions have its answers lies in ourselves? But that’s people. In their hearts and minds, lay many secrets that we do not know. Humans are a complex living being. Behind the blood flowing in our veins, the ever-hardworking heart, the psychomotor and the neurons in our brain, we are also a universe which our mind and capability to think was akin to the Milky Way galaxy.

Even so, why should love be a game of riddle? Why should relationships be based on predictions and hypotheses? We are so focused on being extraordinary when in fact, we couldn’t even become our ordinary-self. It’s like owning a big and unique building, but the base wasn’t there.

Ken takes a deep breath, rests his elbow on the table and his palms closing his face. “Had I made the right decision?” he thought. So helplessly, that he thought it would be the last he would fall in love ever with anyone else. Or should he just wait for someone to knock the door of his heart again. Or should he even be enjoying life in his twenties and think later.

Or should he just, be a bachelor for the rest of his life?

Had his mother was here, he pictured she would pat his head saying “my poor son” or had his father laugh at his own stupidity. That was the love and the warmth he so needed, but it was no longer there.

They are no longer here, in this world. They aren’t here but he knew the warmth, did exist once upon time.

Murakami wrote about how we are like the satellites, staying up in the orbit, passing at the same place but never to exchange promises and was just – simply alone. How would it feel, to be burned up in a piece of aluminum?

The work of politics he did, the struggle for a democratic society, the volunteerism he did and now Ken thought about stopping. Settling down at some remote place or an Island. He thought about staying with some Bajau tribe in Borneo, settling down life by the sea, marrying a woman there, fishing and farming for a living and enjoying the breeze of the wind.

He thought about Karina, a Bajau woman he met during his volunteering activity to build solar plant there. She was a timid woman, whom always had a casket filled with dried fish to be sold every time he saw her on the day and smiles with her eyes down by the silicon of the curtain from her house. It was the two last days, they talked and had fun. Played beach volleyball, played guitar and serenade together and build a campfire. But that was then, it has been 3 years. Either one of us or I, was just simply forgotten through time.

That is unlikely to happen. He smiled, despite every misfortune he had apart from breaking up. Little did, it helped him to cheer up. The challenging life he has now, probably would gave a newer kind of insight to his life.

Sara, the woman he loved certainly was not crazy. She was a wonderful universe of her own. Let anyone says or even herself tell that she is an imaginary. Perhaps people don’t see how they are. Or how we see how they are, had been wrong. In that case, was Ken’s conviction about her was wrong – he never and never will know about it. But the image of her, will forever burn in his eyes. Even Ken had problems, on trusting people on daily basis, as a result of events that happened to him.

The essence and plume of her smell, her hair bangs and its silkiness with that emotional hazy eyes of her. How can one forget everything within just one night? That’s what he thought. And if there’s any chances that she will come back, he also had no clue.

His coffee that he ordered arrived. His personal preference of café au lait; double cream and hot. The barista always knew what he wanted. Whenever Ken came to his Café, he would brew the coffee for him as if he was programmed to do so. Ken had been a loyal customer for too long. If there were little customers, they would chat up together while he brew the coffee. He blew softly to the foam and took a sip. Ken’s troubled face faded to a smile, like someone just watched a great movie as soon as it ends.

“Was the coffee not as usual as you wanted to, Mr. Ken?” he asked.

“No, it’s fine. Just another yesterday.” He replied.

It was already 8.15PM. He got out of the coffee shop and kick start his bike for home. The smell of the gasoline invigorated through his nostrils, with the light white-colored smoke pumped out of the two exhausts as he revs up the bike. His left fingers clenches the clutch, shifts to the first gear and sped.

The image of Sara, was greatly remembered. Her dress and kisses of that night. And that image stayed, like an old photograph stood still against time.

He thought, he may saw her again on the side street. This time, maybe on the junction. But it was too fast for something to happen. Just too fast.

“Just another yesterday".

Just an overwhelming feeling that I once felt.

Asyraf Amir. 20170331.

Termanggu.

Sambil duduk terpanggung.
Terbuka mata seperti termenung.
Raut wajahnya sudah jemu.
Buntu cari jalan menjadi dungu.

Terpancar dari hatinya yang terhiris.
Kudis buta sepersis siflis.
Mahu menyara tapi muflis.
Menganggur di tepi dikeji mengemis.

Ada berkaca mata.
Ada membimbit galas kosong.
Seorang pemuda memberus kanvas.
Melakar zaman baru,
Dengan mata pena baru.

"Usah peduli budak hingusan."

"Petah berkata tapi sia-sia!"

Khabarnya negara merdeka.
Hidup di minda sebuah kolonial.
Si penjajah berbangsa sendiri.
Kolot kedekut egonya meninggi.

Asyraf Amir. 20170105.


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

I'll write more. Just. Chill.
Asyraf Amir. 20170307.