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It’ll make you laugh, it’ll make you understand how a person would feel when they are alone, it’ll also make you wonder what’s the meaning of sadness and it’s truly make you cry when you start to realise you’re alone and full of sadness although you’re always around with laughters.

Talentime is so Yasmin, by end of the movie I feel so Yasmin inside me.

She tell a story in such, she make me feel how sad it’s to be her (creatively). No matter how creative you’re, no matter how good you’re – if you’re alone – you need people around you – to be appreciated the greatness, the pureness and the loveliness of who you’re.

At least you can say to yourself there is nothing wrong of being you.

It’s so complex, I feel stuck in the chaos of the world of rejection.

“I want to have 100 not 97″ – It’s all about imperfection and imperfection bring anger, anger to achieves something that you know you’ll never get it.

“97 is still good..” – you know.

“She chose a decision she think can make her happy even it was imperfect and Monkey, you’ve to chose a decision that make you happy” – hmmm, I wonder what is Monkey represent in the history of Hinduism?

A Yasmin maybe.

Talentime was not a movie about Malaysian, it’s to me, a movie about Yasmin’s struggles and like all her movie’s characters, she succumb to the feeling of alone although she is around by all the laughters, even if most of us go and watch her movie and appreciate the art of it and to her it’s still all just a tale n time.

A short of 2 hours of laugh, alone, sad and cry of Yasmin Ahmad.

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Kekadang bila sayang berada di dalam belaian, kita terlupa betapa di sekelipan mata senang sekali ia bisa terlepas dari erat genggaman.

Kenapa perlu dipersoalkan salah siapa, bila kamu hanya tahu sekadar untuk mempermainkan sayang, dan  tidak lebih dari batukan senda gurauan!

Setidaknya, malulah pada keikhlasan dan ketulusan hati.

_wahaza

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I watch this live last night and was sitting behind her after the performance.

Trust me, even she was shock with his anticipation!

Dalam sibuk sebuah kota yang tidak sebesar mana, berdiri seorang manusia ini di sebalik dinding kaca yang tidak setinggi mana, merenung ke arah sebuah bangunan yang tidak seindah mana, di dalam sebuah toko ilmiah yang tidak sehebat mana.

Di tangan manusia ini, tergenggam sebuah karya seorang manusia itu yang akan pertama kali dibacanya, karya seorang manusia yang cukup besar, tinggi, indah dah hebat sekali.

Akhirnya, manusia itu yang menjadi inspirasi setiap karya manusia yang ini, berangkat untuk bertemu Yang Maha Satu.

Tiada karya yang lain mampu dibaca manusia yang ini selain karya yang diwahyu oleh Yang Maha Besar, Yang Maha Tinggi, Yang Maha Indah dan jua Yang Maha Hebat…

Al-Fatihah.

Arena Wati : 1925 – 2009

Kelip-kelip disangka api, kalau api mana puntungnya, hilang ghaib di sangka mati, kalau mati mana kuburnya…

Bermundaran mandir berbolak hati terasanya perit jiwa ingin menulis nukilan ini.

Jauh dibenak, kisah sebegini harusnya dikunci berkaratan di dasar lautan. Mungkin jua dibiar hanyut jatuh ke jurang dasaran, tiada dipedulikan.

Apakan daya hasrat itu, kekadang bila hati keseorangan, rindu yang menerpa menitis jua air mata.

Walau sukar diterjemah minda, berfikiran pendek sepanjang mana pun, sedosa mana bila seorang adik berkisahan warkah hidup seorang insan bergelar abang… › Continue reading

Back in 80′s,  late afternoon – on a day when sun is so bright and shadowed by the trees on the west – we, the whole family would pack a ‘kopi ais‘ in red thermos and ‘biskut majerin‘, an inch rectangle size biscuits which you can easily get from ‘Kedai Runcit‘ – and we all went to ‘Kute‘ till dawn.

‘Kute‘ is an area where we have our sawah padi.

Although it was not our own land, my dad will ‘pawah‘ it with the land owner so this would becomes our main source of income to support us all.

Me and my sisters, we sat under a coconut tree at ‘atas gong‘, a pieces of higher land surround by ‘lelalang‘ bush that always waving non-stop blown by the strong wind.

Nearby, there is a rambutan tree, which my dad at one time fall from it and had to go hospital for a minor injury checkup.

At that time, two of my younger brother still very young to play around with me. Looking below the land, there are yellowing crops and ready to be cut and later to be stack together. You could catch ‘belalang kuning‘ that hopping from one stack to another stack of ‘padi‘.

My mum would put a red color ‘kain batik sarung‘ on top of her head to avoid the heat of the sun and she would asking my other sister to help her cut the crops with the ‘sabit‘ knife.

Not far from her, my dad would pick those stack of paddy leaf which have been cut off and smash it on a wooden box which have four ‘tiang‘ built by bamboo and warp around with a white yellowish ‘guni baja‘ and inside it there is a small wooden stair.

I would run on the ‘batas-batas‘ between the ‘relung‘ and jumping across when I see the gap that use to ‘alirkan‘ a water from the main ‘parit air‘.

I would lay on top of the stack of crop which has been ‘ketam‘ looking up on the blue sky…

Wishing someday, a day that I would be better person, a better man and a loveable person.

And now, does ‘kiranya pedih hati riang‘ when you’re crave to love someone…
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