This comes in the best of times. Physically, mentally, spiritually, and in ways i may not know at this point in time.

I thank everyone. Each in his/her own right.

God bless you all.

time is beyond thy reach; oh syawal approaches!

The week was one of celebration. A five day full of masters of academic fields walking past you in what glorious looking robes that befitted their stature. Days where the world unfolded into one spot on the good earth, apparent in the multitude of visitors, each donning their own pride that was unique to their own people. That was a time when families would rejoice for the accomplishment of their own members; graduation week.

Having said that, i was not entirely sure whether i should proceed to attend my own ceremony. I had my own reasons, mostly swayed by my conscience with compassion, or rather love, for a certain someone at its core.

And at one point of reassuring myself in the mind that the dislocation happened.

It was Friday, and right after Jumma prayer was the ceremony. It got quite late. I rushed off to the Arts Centre, only to stumble upon my friends along the way. Bless them. They instinctively helped me into my robe, making sure i was all dressed up. Though, in all honesty, i was still debating within myself, as paragraphed above.

And in between the two, something cracked. I looked to the left and my suspicion was confirmed. The arm was dangling in an awkward position, evident of the dislocated shoulder above. Of all places and time, destiny chose this a befitting venue for this honourable guest!

Wincing as i move, i walked like a drunkard, swaying left and right, the pain coming in split seconds. And the fact that looking at all the faces around me, looking concerned, that i made up my mind. I realized the day was never about the one being celebrated, it was about those celebrating; never about me, but about them. Not my having my moment, but them enjoying every second of the festivity. And the family at home. The very action that i found so selfish became apparently a selfless act. With that, i walked on the stage with the makeshift red sling to the joy and laughter of the makeshift family. And that was touching in every sense.

Alya, thank you. I will forever remember the angelic red jacket.

Norma, Priya, i am honoured to have you two. Truly.

Photographers, i hope you had good shots of the moment. Alia, thanks for the outdoor photos, and Syazwan, for the on-stage photos. There is room for improvement.

And thank you all, in your togetherness for the end.

Oh such an end it was.

In between the two seasons

where the sun and rain meet in the heavens above

The spirit is whole again

Let it stride forth, be it aloft!

Observing the world without, the many personas give substance and come to play in the mind as the many different outcomes of life’s decisions. Yes, decision-making is one of the taints that marks adulthood. Decisions that matter not to only the choice-maker, but to his immediate family and community, not to mention the length of the time in effect that will eventually make the breadth of the externality more pronounced.

I can only sigh at what such decisions could cost one’s life. As I, like many others, have come to face with such a choice almost six years ago. At the age of merely seventeen, we were made to consider an option that would take us on a ride for the next thirteen years of our lives. 17 years. 13 years. Yes, thinking of it this way, the scholarship programme contract would seem cruel. Can a 17 year old boy make a sound enough decision that will bind him for the next 13 years? I cannot answer that truthfully, nor can many. I am not one to say that I regret the choice made earlier but i am not also saying that i am perfectly happy with what was done. I have mixed feelings. The point is, contracts such as these are part of our lives, what is best to do is to help educate the younger generations to better make sense of the effects of such a choice.

Thus comes the role of education, formally or informally. I am fortunate enough to have bestowed with parents that are well-informed, both of whom were lecturers. It is a fact that there are many who are not as fortunate. I owe partly to the Development Economics course that i took in university to help make clear the state the world is in now. It is no different in our own country. Poverty, its trap and effects on later generations compels many to help especially to alleviate the children from the same destiny as their parents. One such initiative that i encounter in close contact is the Teach for Malaysia programme, which is part of the Teach for All global network. I hereby declare my support for your noble cause, and wish the initiative the best of success.

Good education is pivotal in shaping the destiny of schoolchildren. The support should stay on till the end. Having a population of well-informed citizens is one of the by-products of life-long learning experience. The experience abroad has taught me how age should be paired with even more knowledge, in whatever form.

Now comes the time of maturing the mind.

Read, and you will be rewarded.

Destinasi agung yang dicari! dan langsat itu tidak lagi berwarna sepi.

Unggun Bersih

Semakin lara kita didera bara—
kita laungkan juga pesan merdeka:
Demokrasi sebenderang mentari
sehasrat hajat semurni harga diri.

Lama resah kita—demokrasi luka;
lama duka kita—demokrasi lara.
Demokrasi yang angkuh, kita cemuhi;
suara bebas yang utuh, kita idami!

Dua abad lalu Sam Adams berseru:
(di Boston dijirus teh ke laut biru):
Tak diperlu gempita sorak yang gebu,
diperlu hanya unggun api yang syahdu.

Kini menyalalah unggun sakti itu;
kini merebaklah nyala unggun itu.
24—25, 6.11. A. SAMAD SAID

Peludah Warna

Kuasa gusar kini menggelegak murka;
warna kuning diisytihar racun terbisa.
Diragutnya baju-T segeram tenaga
dan diumum itulah busana bahaya.

Tapi, kita jahit semula perca kain,
menjadikannya panji terindah dan tulen.
Warna kuning yang teramat tenang dan syahdu
kita kembalikan damai ke dalam qalbu.

Kini cahaya mentari mungkin diramas
dan sinar kuningnya juga mungkin dicantas.
Memanglah mereka kini peludah warna
sedang menghimpun lendir kahak sebanyaknya.

Kerana nikmat amat lama berkuasa,
kuasa pun seolah menjadi hartanya.

1. 7. 11. A. SAMAD SAID

Semarak Menyala

Kini telah pun dibunuh warna,
bunyi juga ditulikan sama.
Bakal diEO pula kekata,
lengkaplah kerakusan kuasa.

Wewira arwah mula diserlah,
mereka konon dikata terluka.
Sejarah Darurat dighairahkan
demi perlanjut kekuasaan.

Bernyanyilah kita lagu lara
seratus, seribu dan sejuta.
Ya, demokrasi sedang luka
dan kitalah saja penyembuhnya.

Unggun Bersih semarak menyala
menerangi sanubari kita.

3.7.11. A. SAMAD SAID

I barely missed the train towards Bristol, as the one that took me from Coventry was to my dismay, a London Midlands train, known for its slow trips, even to those as short a journey as Birmingham stations. Heart pumping heavily from the bit of rush, i drew back into my own, carried away by what classical pieces i had with me, until drowsiness took me, and sleep overcame my conscious moments.

Later, i was mildly surprised by the pleasant view presented to me in a way that an instant wakefulness took hold of me, and the eyes made constant sweeps of the view to imbue it for later comfort. Yellow fields, one of the sights i most desire to take for my own, having altogether none captured for my personal (photography) collection, spread like vast ocean, the rapeseed together forming a gentle dance, and the winds their master choreographer. The countryside, a good escape to the view i take in every single day.

Arrived at tea-time as planned, Jonathan and Gill welcomed me, driving me back to their little house that has sheltered their family for more than 20 years, near Frenchay. The brewing of tea afterwards marked the commencement of my two nights’ stay at their place; my being a guest .

If this be fulfilled, many a lives will be affected, in subtle ways. And for this, i owe myself rigorous groundwork inquest to make sure points are taken where and when they are meant to.

Hope.