A Grey Singh

That Singh,

with a grey beard and moustache

carries a grey that follows him

like a quiet mist

Not the grey of sorrow

but of ash that never cooled

from fires no one saw

and of silent storms he endured

He gives himself away

whilst tiptoeing on already worn-out feet

as grey settles on him

he folds into molds never his own

His eyes reveal what his shoulders conceal

a tired child who's adamant about being strong

a boy still wearing a torn cape

a man isolated by his choice

His arms are strong

veiny and hard

arms that carry many lives

except his lover

How quietly the grey Singh breaks my heart

he fears the hands that gently reach for him

he moves awkwardly, shoulders drawing in

every embrace finds him stepping back

as though love requires blood

That Singh

that grey Singh

tugs my soul

grey seems to love him so

The Seat Beside Mine

 

The chair beside mine scraped softly one Monday,

Just after morning assembly ended that day.

A boy walked in with rain still on his shirt,

And placed his bag down gently on the desk’s soft skirt.

The fan above us turned - in a slow steady sound,

While sunlight spread quietly across the classroom ground.

I stayed silent as he found his place,

And the room slowly learned his unfamiliar face.

 

By midweek we shared rulers during Maths class,

And laughed at mistakes that happened too fast.

He sketched small rockets at the edge of his page,

While I folded paper planes in a quiet lesson stage.

At recess we moved through the crowded canteen line,

Carrying drinks while waiting patiently in time.

The seat beside mine no longer felt so new,

Just a quiet space where small moments grew.

 

During group work I lost the thread of the task,

While others finished faster than I could ask.

He pointed softly to where I should begin,

And stayed beside me without making it a win.

The teacher called for answers from our row,

My hands grew still; I did not want to go.

He slid his book a little closer to me,

And suddenly the work became easier to see.

Now the seat beside mine is never just a place,

It carries small moments we shared in this space.

Some days are noisy, some days feel slow,

But sitting beside him feels like I already know.

We do not say much when the lessons begin,

Yet somehow the day feels lighter within.

And when I look at that seat by my side,

I know good company is quietly there to guide

Awan Kata-Kata

Semalam kau marah sekali

Seperti biasa, setiap kali darah mu naik ke kepala maka kata-kata mu menebal seperti awan saat hari mahu hujan

Berat, gelap, penuh halilintar

Aku biasa dengan awan kata-kata sebegitu

Ayah ku juga begitu

Setiap marahnya membawa ribut ke seisi rumah

Tapi meski biasa, hatiku masih menangis

Meski biasa

Kebal yang aku sangka,  hanya tingkah, bukan rasa

Tubuh aku mula sejuk, mata mula menangis

Awan katamu menjerut hatiku

Kau sebut benci dan jengkel 

Kau kata aku punahkan percaya, aku seperti maling

Aduh! Sampai hati!

Makin aku ingat, makin lebat hujan ini

Mengapa tidak mampu kau lembutkan katamu?

Bukankah sayang itu hadir bersamanya kelembutan?

Atau sayangmu jua seperti hujan tidak jadi?

Atau aku memang selayaknya dimarahi begitu?

Awan kata-kata mu penuh halilintar

dan aku sudah terbakar

Nama Yang Ku Kirim Ke Mekah

Jika ada yang bertanya kepada mu

Apa benar aku mencintai kamu

Maka sewajibnya kamu jawab 

Iya! Benar sekali!

Jika ada yang menjuihkan bibirnya sambil berkata

Apa buktinya?

Maka harus kau pekik kepada mereka

Dia menghantar namaku ke Mekah

Ya!

Aku telah menghantar namamu ke Mekah

Aku kirimkan dalam lipatan doa 

Yang dilafazkan sahabat-sahabatku di Jabal Rahmah

Sebegitu aku mencintai kamu

Meski aku tahu bahawa kamu sendiri ragu akan cintamu pada aku

Hiba sekali hati ini

Bila makbulnya doa itu bukan seperti yang aku tuliskan 

Tuhan memberitahu alam agar mencurahkan banjir di hati kita

Supaya cair pekat nafsu asmara

Jika sesekali kamu tertanya adakah benar aku mencintai kamu

Maka aku ingin sekali menyatakan sambil ku usap pipi mu

Ya! Aku benar mencintai kamu

Hingga ku bawa namamu dalam doa ku.

A Grumpy Old Singh

 There's a grumpy old Singh who lives in the city

In a double storey house next to a playground

Where tired shoplots look up to gleaming buildings

and the roads choke on traffic

This grumpy old Singh is a delicate being

"You cannot do this, you cannot do that"

"You should do this, you should do that"

And somehow

"I cannot do this, I cannot do that"

O grumpy old Singh!

I wonder why you are so grumpy

Have you had your roti?

 Or was the masala too hot today?

Ah! I see! 

Work is pricking your sole again, isn't it?

Dear grumpy old Singh

Don't you find it funny? 

When one who hates being controlled 

Ends up sounding controlling?

Oh I forgot! 

Mirrors always show your own reflection

Pick Me! Choose Me!

Pick me! Choose me!

Pleads Meredith with tearful eyes

A scene I watched and felt enormous shame

For I was Meredith and in many ways is still Meredith

Pick me! Choose me!

I scream a voiceless plea

To everyone who should listen but apparently deaf

The small me never really grow up

The big me turns small at every single neglect

Pick me! Choose me!

I am good, I am pleasing, I am self-sacrifying

I abandon myself at your whim, I just don't matter over you

So,

Pick me! Choose me!

Save me from this state of prolong aloneness

I just need a drop of love, of care, of attention

I'll repay you with the whole world

Please, oh please I beg of you

Pick me! Choose me!

Surat Untuk Mak

Mak,

Hayat hubungan fizikal kita hanya lebih sedikit dari setengah dekad

Satu tempoh yang begitu singkat untuk kakak yang kebolehan mengingat ibarat ros jepun di waktu pagi

Memori kakak umpama tompokan titis air atas surat khabar yang kuning helaiannya

Mak,

Kakak sentiasa tahu kematian itu adalah yang terbaik untuk Mak

Sepanjang kakak hidup dengan Mak, senyuman Mak tidak pernah kakak lihat

Hidup Mak sangat susah, sakit dan sedih

Kakak tidak pernah pasti antara dua kemungkinan ini

Adakah sabar Mak setinggi gunung

Atau semangat Mak seleper tanah rata

Ingatan kakak terlampau sedikit untuk menjadi hakim yang adil

Mak

Sepanjang peninggalan Mak, kakak cuba terus hidup

Mak tinggalkan anak sulung Mak dan anak kecil Mak pada kakak

Untuk kakak pastikan terus hidup dan tidak dalam penganiyaan sehingga mereka mampu berdikari

Jadi Mak,

Begitu lah hidup kakak. Sama susah, sedih dan sakit seperti Mak.

Kakak tiada telinga yang sudi mendengar, bahu yang sudi menerima rebahan, atau tangan yang ikhlas memeluk

Kakak tiada apa-apa

Kakak cuma ada intuisi yang mendesak kakak untuk terus hidup

Lalu, teruslah kakak hidup hingga ke hari ini

Mak

Bukan sekali kakak ingin mati

Supaya berakhirlah gelodak jiwa, secepat berakhirnya derita mak

Namun, sehingga itu, kakak akan terus melangkah agar mati kakak bukan menghadirkan susah kepada sesiapa.

Mak,

Kakak mungkin ke neraka. Jika nanti Mak diberi peluang berjumpa anak-anak Mak, jangan lupakan kakak.

Seorang anak yang cuba mengambil peranan Mak