Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind.

Would we meet again in another life?

28.10

After all the time and all the things you've put me through, I still wish that it's You who would say "Happy birthday, Sunshine." instead of a hundred people.

"Happy birthday, Sunshine."

"It's not a happy occasion being born into this world."

"It is for some people."

"It's not for me. I'm not talking on behalf of everyone else."

"I know it is for you too. You're just being a hard ass."

Good days, hey.

He used to call me Sunshine. Good morning, Sunshine. Sleep well, Sunshine. I miss you, Sunshine. Sunshine this, Sunshine that. And I used to ask him,

"Is it because London is so gloomy and lacks of sunshine?"

And when we argued, it's Sun Scorch. So our days were either bright when we were all civilised and loved up or brighter (that we burned) when we were beastly.

Srikandi Cinta ku.

There was once a woman called Amba, who was one-third of the trio sisters Amba, Ambika and Ambalika. Amba had a lover called Shalva. As Bheeshma intended for Amba to be the bride of his father, the King, he defeated Shalva who then retreated in humiliation at the defeat.

With the setting of the Sun and her womanly charm, Amba successfully convinced Bheeshma to let her go. And so she went running back to Shalva who scorned the suggestion. Crestfallen, she begged for Bheeshma to take her but Bheeshma declined for he had taken an oath of lifelong celibacy.

As indignity washed through her, Amba turned to Subramaniam to find Bheeshma's enemy. The Lord answered her prayers and gave her a garland of ever-fresh lotus flowers, "Anyone who wears this garland will be the enemy of the invincible Bheeshma."

With flickers of hope morphing into intense fire, she took the garland and sought out a Kshatriya who will wear it around his neck. Unfortunately, Bheeshma was a strong warrior and no-one wanted to incur his wrath. Amba was once again dejected. Defeated, she finally hung the garland by the gates of King Drupad's palace and faded away into the forest where she carried out great prayers to the Gods swearing that she would, one day, be the cause of Bheeshma's death. Her wish was, once again, the Gods' command.

One fine day, Drupad the king of Panchala, a vast kingdom separated by the holy Ganges, was blessed with the birth of a daughter. This daughter was the reincarnation of Amba. When she grew up and saw the garland was still hanging by the palace gate, she was enraged that no-one had the courage to wear it. Amba decided to take the matter into her own hands and wore the garland herself.

Seeing this, king Drupad was mortified that her own daughter was Bheeshma's enemy. He exiled her to the forest, where Amba began her austerities to turn into a man. Again, the skies opened and the Gods listened to her. And so Sikhandi, a great warrior was born.

On the tenth day of a battle, Sikhandi rode on Arjuna's chariot with him to the battlefield where they found Bheeshma. Once more, Sikhandi's offer to fight him was declined by Bheeshma for it was against Bheeshma's chivalry to fight a woman (he knew Sikhandi was born a woman before gaining his manhood). Also, Bheeshma's invincibility could only be defeated by a woman.

Arjuna, while seeing all these happening, hid himself behind Bheeshma. Accompanied with shame and tears and the help from Sikhandi, Arjuna dealt a death blow to Bheeshma who fell down to the ground. As Bheeshma fell, his whole body was held above the ground by the shafts of Arjuna's arrows which protruded from his back, and through his arms and legs.

At that moment, Bheeshma was annihilated by a revenge so huge and a love so deep. When Bheeshma laid on such a bed of arrows, the Gods watched from heavens in reverence and humble sorrows. The Earth cracked and the skies cried. Bheeshma's death was blessed.

Dylan Thomas~

Kosong.

The flints of memory lane.

There he was, standing alone. His eyes fixed onto the room filled with enthusiastic pompous souls, young and old. The glass of bubbly was brought onto his lips once in a while. He sipped and he gazed.

He has very deep gaze, this young man. The sort of gaze which would penetrate straight into your soul and make you edgy. The gaze bent in shifting your focus onto the china on your table amid your attempt to return an eye contact.

11 October 2007. 2 days before Eid.

Right now...

I wonder, if you are still the young man I used to know.

I don't usually write when I'm in a good mood. That's when I want to be out living a life.

-Daniel Johns, silverchair.

If you haven't already known...

Neil Gaiman is a genius.