In search of what we might be, we forgot what we have become.

Yangon, Myanmar, 2008-2010

We were way too cool to live by the rules.

Haven't talked to Umi for quite some time. The Internet here is just too slow for Skype calls. And me being a cheapskate, or rather, penniless, won't just spend my phone allowance on international calls when I can just use Ayah's credit card all the way. Problem is, I need the Internet. Argh, screw you Virgin. Unifi back home in PV8 is waaaaay better, even all the way up to 25th floor.

Not that I'm used to call home everyday, nor every week, but I guess the feeling of not listening to their voices is too unpleasant. Incomplete. The end result - I keep bugging the same person. Which I'm pretty sure annoys the crap out of him. Sigh. Clingy me.

Meanwhile a close friend in high school is geting married this March. She's one of the Geng 13, the ruler of the school (lol) in such a terrible way. Our excitement, or rather, theirs, is successfully shown by massive plans of meeting ups, bridesmaids shopping (pun boleh), and such, all on the evil Facebook. Girls power, as we used to call it back then. I'm so sad that I'm gonna miss it. You see, I don't have that many girlfriends, and that bunch of people from high school are among the ones who stick, despite me far far away now. They are now too busy planning on the dress colours, hennas and stuff, and I'll just be here mourning to myself in the cold (and read their comments and stuff).

I miss high school. When I was in Form 1 to early Form 4. Having said that, means that I miss my lower secondary school, which I shall not mention the name here in fear that it will give the school an unpleasant image considering how I turn out to be now (really). 

We were so otai back then. We skipped prep classes, dated the boys (and soon launched a NO-BOYS-ALLOWED campaign), fly and went home without permission, conquered the public phone until 3-4 in the morning, brought our own handphones, played hide and seek with the warden freehair (and wearing shorts) in the ampaian area visible to the boys, everything. We thought we were the coolest gang (we WERE indeed heheh). Oh didn't I mention how we robbed (lol what a word) the koop and stole some ice creams and got caught? Really, we meant to pay them on the next day (the act was done at the night before), but it seemed that luck was not on our side. We got caught and our noble intention was dismissed. And later we were referred as the Geng Ais Krim by the boys. Screw all of them. Yes, despite having some flings here and there with them, I really hated the boys. Well, some of them. Lol.

I still remember the famous phrase "Usolli fiddormitri A3C.." when we wanted to pray in the dorm. Yes it's my dorm A3C. Looking back I felt so jahil saying all those stuff. But it was all for the sake of fun. Hiding in the locker during prep hour when the warden came to check for us (heck we were all marked with a HUGE RED X on our foreheads due to our otai-ness by almost everyone) was not an impossible mission anymore. The thrill, the excitement, the rush of adrenaline in fear of getting caught was just addictive. Otai kan, apa barang ikut peraturan. Lol. That was us. The thirteen of us (though later I think we recruited some new members and expanded our territory) Lol again. What a life.

Even after I left the school, the new Form 4 would still recognize me as one of the former students. Not much by the As scored in PMR, but all credits went to the acts and deeds I managed to do while I was still a student there. Horror. But I can't help to have some sense of pride of being in the gang, and of course, to be in that excellent remarkable school (in the sense of recruiting students like us).

Now we've all grown up. But the memories remain. Insyirah is getting married very soon, who's next, I'm not too sure. Neny, Ruby, Nisa, Farah, Shara, Nabila, Pya, Yasmin, Aliya, Ella, Fa, Aisyah, Ceku.. We define the term "Girl Power", really. 

But really, having girlfriends waaaaaay too cool like them, I wonder if I ever want my kids to ever go to boarding school, considering how their mummy was. Heheh.

Cherating, 2008. Look how scruffy I was (and still am)

I wish to upload more pictures of us (especially the ones with tudung labuh at school which might just disguise me completely considering how I'm dressed nowadays) but I don't have them with me right now. Not sure if I lost them completely or if they're just left in my old white Pavi together with some other childhood junks and (precious) memories. All I have is this one album at Cherating sadly we were inappropriately dressed aka with little clothes on so only these pictures passed. Heh.

But the highlight of the trip was this.

Sh Amani. We look scarily similar. Agreed by the movie crews as well.

And ohhh, her birthday is 10th June while mine is 1st of June.

Well just saying.

Awak, jom?

.: Majlis Persandingan Hazriq & Nurul :. from cstproduction on Vimeo.




"First time kenal dia dekat Kolej Mara Banting."

"Masa start suka masa second year."

One year back.

Leaving graduation in a separate car from our parents heading to Alamanda,

me looked like a runaway bride with all the gold and glitters while you wearing jeans and slippers..

And that moment when we realized we didn't have a single graduation picture together due to a fight the night before.

Two years back.

Remember that precious red shoes?

You had me wearing your giant size 10 slippers because I was too scared of staining the newly bought suede shoes.

And you ended up stranded on the tangki air since you had no shoes to wear.

I'd say you were being sweet, but part of me was wondering if you were too lazy to join the rest of us and delve your feet into the muddy soil belakang rumah ustaz.

Anyhow, this shot says it all. My precious.

Three years back.

Rindu nak tengok awak pakai baju Melayu 

bawak sling bag Nike 

masuk class ikut pintu belakang.

Love is in the twitter.

Following me replying to his tweet saying that I want to get married next year, Ayah asked me while on the phone this morning.

Ayah: Betul ke awak nak kawen?

Bella: Er. Why are we talking about marriage again?

Ayah: Your tweet bla bla you and him bla bla marriage bla bla.

Bella: (arguing on whether he was subtly replying to my tweets without being too obvious or if he simply didn't know how to reply to others' tweets - trying to divert the conversation)

Ayah: Takde lah. Kalau nak kawen, tanya lah MARA boleh ke tak. Ni tanya parents buat apa.

Bella: ..............???????

Btw this was his tweet. (or something like that)

"Bercinta niat mesti untuk kahwin. Kalau tak, haram."

Setepek atas dahi.

His love letter.

And that it is He Who makes (men) laugh and makes (them) weep;

53:43

Alone.

“At some point semua orang akan ada life sendiri. But that doesn’t mean kita lupa orang lain yang kita sayang.” – quoted

Walking home after class, isolated in her own world buried deep in thoughts, suddenly the iPod shuffled to Fix You by Coldplay.

Tears streaming down her face.

She never feels so alone in her life.

Athazagoraphobia is my middle name.

Athazagoraphobia
	noun. An irrational fear of forgetting, being forgotten or ignored, or replaced.

New Walk, Leicester, February 2012

If we hold tight, shadows will be lost in the light.

It’s cold. It’s snowing. It’s freezing cold everything seems so bleak.

For some reasons, she’s crying. Not that she’s not used to crying, but this time she’s well aware of the reason for her river of tears. Which makes her even sadder.

She feels defeated. By life. By fate. By her own feelings.

Unfortunately fighting isn’t an option. She could be a fighter if she wanted, but there’s no point of fighting. This is life. The battlefield is the life itself; there is no way she could win. Scared of being terribly beaten and bruised again, no, this time she’ll let it pass.

Most of all, she’s scared of losing.

That everything will be okay

I know that it's so easy to say 

But the pain inside will fade

Please tell me that you'll stay.

Holes Inside, Joe Brooks

To Zahid, I wish you all the happiness in the world cause you deserve nothing less than that.

And KN, thank you.

Don't walk away from me.

Food for soul; Hafalan Shalat Delisa.

Intro: Lagu bisa bikin homesick

I don't usually watch Malay movies, let alone Indonesian. But when a friend posted a YouTube link to the full movie, for no reasons I clicked it and the next minute I found myself watching the movie while having a late lunch.

Hafalan Shalat Delisa tells us to be strong despite what happened. Delisa is a young girl who survived the tsunami that hit Acheh on December 26, 2004, the catastrophy of tsunami that first shook the whole world. I still remember watching the live coverage of the news, I was 14 back then. And I kept on wondering how the survived ones would continue to survive, having lost almost everything Allah lent them. But then, as usual, I forgot. I forgot how Allah could simply take anything from us in split seconds, when everything could be washed away in a single swipe.

Until I watched this movie.

Not just how Delisa survived, her family (especially her mother, Ummi Salamah) way of life also touched me. The way they wait for everyone to perform solat jamaah, the way the mother advised her daughters on the values in Islam, everything. A simple yet contented life. Lepas tu terfikir macam mana lah nak jaga anak nanti heheh. Immediately my thoughts flew back home to my family. 

Anyways, the movie is beautiful, just beautiful.

Delisa survived the wave in a very subtle way. She was doing her solat practical at school, and the ustaz told her to focus, to be khusyuk, and ignore everything else. So when she was doing it (performing the solat and prayers), she really put her heart into it. That's when the tsunami wave hit and washed away the village and she was very khusyuk she didn't realize what was going on around her. And that's how the movie got its title.

Following the tragedy, her leg had to be amputated. Her disability, her innocence, her patience, somehow got into me. She's so young, how is she going to face the world?

That is when I ponder, how do I wish to end up if a tragedy like that strikes. To survive, and continue living without my loved ones, I guess I'd rather be with the rest. But surviving means second chance. And who wouldn't want a second chance?

But do I really want to wait for the second chance while I still have my first try, my first chance not taken away? Kenapa nak tunggu terhantuk baru nak tengadah? Peribahasa pun boleeehh. Entahlah.

I couldn't help but shed buckets of tears while watching this movie. The message is so subtle. Reflecting my own self, the people I love most, the life I'm living, if someday something happens (Nauzubillah), will I be prepared for it?

Meanwhile..

credit HERE

What happened to we could have had it all?

She talks about ATTACHMENT.

I feel.. Terasa. Mainly because I've been ignoring some people in my life. Including her. Yet she replied to me,

"You are just being you, Bella."

Which even made me more.. Speechless.

I forgot when was the last time someone said that to me, that I need not worry on what I'm doing, that I'm just being myself.

I forgot.

There are times that something just hit me hard, some words, random Facebook posts (some of them aren't random at all I know you are directing it to me message delivered thank you), some Whatsapp texts, they just made me ponder. Have I lost myself all these while? In this pursuit of happiness and life, have I really forgotten who I am? Who I was? Who THEY are?

Just when I though I'm losing trust in people..

Have THEY lost trust in me?