Sunday, February 24, 2013


Setakat akhir Februari 2013, saya sudah mengalami 3 hari yang teruk. Satu dari hari tersebut saya tertinggal diari, pen, buku cerita, atau karangan pelajar untuk disemak (bahan bacaan percuma). Yang ada hanyalah 24 jam bersama otak saya yang menggelegak dan situasi yang amat tidak menyenangkan. Satu hari lagi disebabkan oleh cuaca yang mengubah perencaan sesuatu program, jadi saya tidak berapa salahkan diri saya untuk satu hari tersebut.

Saya berpendapat alangkah eloknya jika saya dapat menulis satu bab untu setiap hari buruk yang telah saya alami. Jadi setakat bulan Februari saya telah berhutang dengan diri saya sendiri 3 bab untuk sebuah novel. Kalau ikut ‘trend’ ini, banyaklah bab yang saya terhutang dengan diri saya.

Monday, February 4, 2013


Another year has begun. Naturally, I have to let go my beloved 2012 students. As much as I love them to bits, I can’t see another year of teaching them. Studying language with the same teacher for three years in a row (to some of them) could be dreadful. But that’s the beauty of anything temporal. Something beautiful, that is fleeting might be more appreciated than years and years of static stability. Still, I miss those days.

So life went on.  Sometimes, they visited me. Actually, almost daily. Safe to say, every other day. I enjoy those visits, since grading papers in the lonely staff room at 2.30 in the evening is really not the highlight of my life.

They reported on a project that they had to do for a school event. As a capacity of someone now removed from their colourful life, filled with drama of all kinds, I could only listen and say something positive. I heard their laments, the fears and news of a mutiny within a mutiny. How exciting! I kept saying that things are going to work out in the end. I tried to creep back into their lives but they kind of said, “Teacher, we can do this on our own. Just let us do it the way we want to do it.” Sadly, my heart breaking bit by bit, I let them do it their own way.

The night before their big day, I dreamt about the kids with a drama I haven’t seen. That is the level of my obsession. I knew they would be able to pull it off. I sat there, watching them doing a last minute run of their little sketch. And for the briefest moment, I felt I am a part of their brilliant and sweet life. Maybe I am, maybe not, depending on whose point of view I am speaking about.

These boys will give Aaron Aziz a run for his money

These boys will give the Juvana boys a run for their money

Ustaz Azhar Idrus will have to find a new crowd

The old gang is back

You carry this all the time with you? Referring to love letters/ romantic poems

A boy has gotta try

No words can describe the beauty of this final scene.  What happened to me in high school? Oh yeah, I was in an all-girls boarding school

And they did. It was hilarious. It was awkward. But it was definitely entertaining. They practiced on Saturday without adult supervision. Balloons streamed down from the balcony. When did they do that? Syazatul lamented that the audience were silent at the end. I could only say that they didn’t understand some parts at the end. This isn’t the ’12 Jam di Pasir Salak’. This is a comedy in a foreign language.

Ah, the memories.