You would love to heave a sigh of sweet relief that this year’s celebrations for the new lunar year has finally come to an end, and continue to look forward to many more to come. You would love to. This rare occasion had always been long awaited holiday, when your circle of activity was the size of a small town and your social circle was the size of a few classrooms in school. Friends would talk and plan about visiting schedules and illegal firecrackers and where you could get them weeks before the malls even started adding those annoying songs into their playlists amidst “Focus on the Family” slots by that James Dobson dude.

And then you would grow up. You see, the norm has it that we graduate and move on to greener pastures, where the words “menara” and “gading” finally come together (although you’ve always thought they should never be put together, let alone be the preferred term for tertiary studies) and small town folk like mua-self get to go out and experience THE LIFE. Being “privelleged” as a single child means you get to go as far as you want, minus the miles limited by the mother, you ended up a sea away.

The time comes for you to reuite with the places and people you’ve grown to know and understand most again when you realize that you don’t quite know or quite understand them anymore. When trying to fit into a conversation requires me to be there when they did the “hey remember that time when we..” thing, and continuing a conversation is as difficult as starting one without asking “so when are you graduating again?” and “so how’s studies?” one too many times.

And there’s the people who graduate into being a couple. And breaking up. And becoming a couple again. And breaking up again. And the endless string of text messages and blog posts you read about them doing so. And you realize that you can’t be that guy for them anymore. You just can’t.

And then there’s the coming back to where you currently pursue your so called ambition. And then you realized as though you’ve never left. As if you’re supposed to be here.

And then you realize how small a picture you’ve been looking at all this while.

25/01/09, 11:59:32 PM:

This is herrendous John. Blast after blasts going off just a few blocks from where I am standing. I can feel shockwaves from the explosions of the warheads raining down on the housing area just in front of me, where the remaining Taliban troop have been reported to hold ground.

This is going to be a long night.

26/01/09, 12:05:09 AM:

What you’re seeing now John is a live feed showing the housing area just in front of me. Where the special infantry marines that I’m embeded in will be moving in at a moments notice to make sure the reported terror suspects are caught alive or found dead. The list includes Osama bin Laden’s fourteenth right hand man, Ahmed al-Hadi and lots more.

The air strike from the USAF 13th Division continues relentlessly John. Wa.. Wait! I hear shots being fired from the ground as well!

*Background voice* RPG! RPG!

I have to take cover John. I have to take cover.

26/01/09, 12:15:52 AM:

The bombings seem to have died down slightly over here John. The infantry marines will be moving in shortly to hopefully accomplish their mission.

I will be moving in with the troops and continue to give you continuous live coverage on the surge here.  This is Kenneth reporting live from Kandahar. Now back to the studio. John.

*Background voice* I’m sorry sir but I’m afraid I’m gonna have to ask you to stay behind. It’s too dangerous.

But what happened to my continuous live coverage?

—Static—

Boy. I’d have to rethink the economic recession. Firecracker Street’s been as lively as ever this year.

Happy Celebrations people. Hopes for a less oxymoronic year ahead.

(I just had to do it)

with the only light coming from his room. All is quiet in the station save for the murmur of bustling traffic outside, cushioned by the thick walls. Probably the reason why he always opted for the night shift. If only it was this peaceful outside, he thinks to himself. Sipping on his third cup of espresso, he looks thru the latest cases his jurisdiction has witnessed recently. Petty thefts, car robberies… the files never end. If only we can teach these people the decision they’re making before they commit, he thinks to himself again.

An email pops up on his screen. “Mumbai Attacked” is all it says. He reads it intently, as the fumes from the hot espresso thins out in the cold office. “… over a hundred dead in a series of shootings and bombings in what seems to be a terrorist attack… Taj Mahal occupants being the main targets…” Does it ever end? He asks himself as he ponders the safety of his daughters, wondering of they’ve reached home from the birthday party. He looks at his watch. 2.23 am. Someone’s gonna get a serious grounding if they’re not home already. He thinks again.

Just as he’s about to pick up the telephone to call, it rings, breaking the silence of the office.

“We’ve got an 11-7 sir, gang activity” said the cold, dispatch voice. “What’s the 10-20?” he asked, routinely, while picking up his equipment from the desk to get ready. “Campus area.” replied the dispatch again. “Be there in 20.” he said as he stands up to leave, forgetting the fact that his daughter’s party was nearby the campus as well.

Nothing else says as much.

I seem to have always been able to put my absence from my dashboard on my mainly hectic life… which is partly true save for the fact that I always have time to immerse myself in my downloaded tvb dramas for 42 minutes every morning come 12 am.

But excuses aside, now that I’m here I believe its time to stop and listen to Écoutez! and recollect my semester. Tons of submissions piled up on that first week of december would leave little breathing space between now and then, seeing as to my progress would account for a pea sized amount to the final milestone. After which would be time to revise for the coming exams. “Taking less papers now does not make it any less daunting,”  said our beloved Dr. Ng. There goes my room for error.

Nonetheless I would want to take a short break sometime after week twelve. Armed with my first DSLR (yes, you heard it) I hope to at least step in the shoes of a photo-journalist and be a pop-a-gandhi wannabe. As to where I will be doing it is still up in the air. Somewhere local preferably.Having said that I won’t even know if I can find the time to sit down and actually do that. Shows how far along I have to go before I can contest for a presidential election.

Kini aku sudah sampai di sini, merenung ke masa depan. Haraplah aku sampai di sana… in one piece.

I seriously need to polish up my national language.