You arrived

Hana Maryam. She was born at 0137H Friday, 29 January.

Ida Yanti. Passed away after Maghrib Saturday, 30 January.

The latter had a relapse with cancer just a few months ago, it spread throughout her body starting from the lungs and had attacked her spine and brain cells. She was just 40.

About 10 days prior, an acquaintance in London passed due to a stroke, which happened after an operation. He was a few months shy of his 41st birthday.

Life is never a permanent thing to begin with, but I sometimes forget that fact, especially when I was younger. It’s easier to remember now, as I move closer to the fourth decade of my existence and have seen many of my elders, contemporaries and even people younger than me pass on.

On the road to find out

I ushered in the new year in Bangkok, it was my first time in that city and had a good time. A brief respite from conflicting emotions and personal melodrama which I’d rather not have.

– – –

No sailing adventure at the start of 2016 but straight into work for Monsoon Cup Malaysia at the end of the month. A change in venue and boats, as well as participants. A new challenge to lead the media management team. Nervous, but hopefully would meet the expectations of the client.

– – –

There is an anxious vibe in the air, worries about the economic prospects being on top of the list of reasons. Still searching for new projects to last me at least six months to back up the current work I have. Anyone needs a part time fact checker?

Memori silam meresah malam

At the end of episode three of season one, Rizzoli and Grant sat at the steps of her place, it was raining. Grant reached to pull a lock of her hair and then they got closer that their foreheads touched. They almost kissed, but Rizzoli pulled back slightly and kissed his cheek instead, saying “Have fun in Washington, I’ll miss you.” She then kissed his cheek again, stood up and went inside.

Why do I watch crime procedurals and get sucked in by the side stories, demmit?

– – –

I wish that when people hurt, it really is like the line from the song, that only words bleed and nothing else. So that we don’t feel it, there won’t be any pain.

– – –

I don’t want you. I lied. I’m still lying.

I want what they have

By they, I meant Celine and Jesse.  I know they are fictional characters from three separate movies, but I still want what they have.  That connection.  That recognition of the impact of their first encounter had on their lives even after nine years apart, which was when they next meet.

I don’t want to wait nine years, though, because I know how precious life is.

– – –

I like Before Sunset best.  The first movie was too hopeful and young (if that makes sense), the third too real.  But the reunion in Paris had a dreamlike quality while maintaining some ‘realness’ to it.  When the three combined, the flow was believable, it showed how the couple evolved throughout the years first without each other and then together.  The looks, the flirting, the fights, I want all of it.


The world of me and you

The horizon was streaked with shades of orange and grey. It was wet on deck, the third day of racing, and we should approach Penang in a couple of hours. The rain had stopped and wind was light, but the waves were fairly high still, making us give up on trying to cook and broke out the dry rations for dinner.

“Are you trying to stare that biscuit to death?” He came to sit next to me near the cockpit where a few others were also taking a short break.

“I was looking at the water, silly,” I replied. Actually, I was thinking of another sailing trip with him some ten months earlier. A week of pure happiness it was for me.

“Do you remember that time I fell on the boat during that final match race?” Of course I did. I was on the media boat when he texted me about it.

“I was really worried you’d cracked a rib or something. And your voice took a long time to recover.” It was seven months ago and I have not forgotten the feeling.

“I was worried too. And it made me realise how painful it was for you when you had the accident in January.” I fell on the boat we had sailed together and the pain near my right ribs took a couple of months to fully disappear.

“I was glad that you were okay, although I do miss that sexy voice you had sometimes,” I said. He laughed at that.

I didn’t mention it before we went on board, but I knew that this would be our last race together. Our situation has not changed and I doubt that it will, despite his new assignment. He took my hand and held it in his while I kept my eyes closed listening to the waves.

“Break is over, comms officer.” He stood and went back to the charts down below. I saw the skipper looking at me and went to him. He’s been a great source of knowledge as usual, and I wanted to hear more about the race he had entered last summer from California to Hawaii. It was partly to distract myself from thinking too much and partly to learn more from the skipper’s 40-odd years of experience.

– – –

From Penang, we moved on to Langkawi. It would be my third visit to the island this year, I haven’t even gone back to the kampung that often. We managed to get onto the podium for the passage race to Penang and were hoping for a repeat performance for the next leg. The navigator’s excited, even when I reminded him we’re in the cruising class, not the IRC 1.

“What happened to fun sailing and enjoying the moment?”

“I can’t help myself, it felt great to win the other day,” he said. Competitive as always.

– – –

I made coffee and went up on deck. It was almost dawn and most of the crew who opted to stay on the boat for the last time were still asleep. He was at the bow pulpit, his sleeping bag wrapped around him. I handed a cup to him and sat down. He wrapped me in as well, warm and safe. I kept quiet, sipping my drink while looking out. After a while, I put my cup down and held him close.

“Thank you for being here,” was all I said. I felt him nod and pulled me closer.

“I think you need a shower.” Romantic, aren’t we?

If you want, read this first.
And this last.


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