go no more a-rovin'

the round tables in this comfortable room are made of white marbles. here by the window i sit and cast my eyes to the street. thinking of leo, mark, victor, you, and the uncertainties ahead of us all. on days like these i yearn for miracles to reduce these enduring appetites. i sip five cups of tea a day.

i recognise these streets quite well, although the faces unfamiliar to me are many. hmm... never mind. i know new faces come everyday. only a portion of what we see is to stay in our mind's journal anyway.

leo told me from his tower of song that his friends are long gone and his hair is grey, he aches in the places where he used to play. and he bade me farewell, not knowing when he'll be back again, and so on....

and victor said there are doors in his life that he never want to open again. but he also admitted it's difficult to deny they are there; and perhaps only right to open the sometimes. for when making resolutions, we need to look back on past mistakes. to be sure they are not repeated, but also to make better the return encounter. i appreciate his kind words. reminding me "to give love to those you care for, and a smile to those you don't. to be all things to all men but just yourself to yourself. be humble and human, but proud of what you are." thank you for tonight, victor.

it's nearly a closing time. i know you're out there. if friends in time be severed, someday here we will meet again. when you have time for me, you will find me here, watching from the window. writing from this marble table in this street. i return to leave you never.

act two

in the morning hours in kuala lumpur i sat staring at the white pages of my life. i know time can't be frozen. and neither can it be rolled back.

i thought that if one's life was like a play, then mine is about beginning its 'act two'.

the storyline narrates about you, your meaning to me, and my responds to you. the things you offered me generously struck me as beauty in many emanations. be it a being, an object, a situation or a landscape. these things have a powerful effect on me as they probably do on everyone else.

i found the things we do simply decorate life with detailed motifs. full of sounds and colours expressed to the world in a totally metaphorical language.

happy to see your pink and blue dresses shine like crazy diamonds. my sailor's hat and flannel shirts remain as my company.

---

p.s. i'd like to thank my friends for yesterday's impromptu surprise in cikini street. a simple birthday party in tan ek tjoan store meant a lot to me.

starlight

news from darfour
and from kinshasa
arrived at my desk
almost simultaneously:

two torch bearers,
carrying the glow from the stars,
walk through the nights
courageously.

white mug

this is but me and my simple rituals, which i perform tonight with a white mug, as i revisit this one-way street in jakarta city. cikini.

i came in; and they nodded.

they roasted the beans finer than they usually did,

and poured the strong result into a white mug.

seemed like they knew what i was coming for:

work until late,

right here, close to the window,

where you could see me,

and i could see you,

if you were a pedestrian.

i placed my devices on the round marble table,

and unrolled my earphones from its spiral box.

just by gazing into the white mug,

i could smell and absorb everything:

it contains essential elements of which inspirations are generously made.

i was also thinking of you,

who are perhaps not so keen to go out tonight.

because the forecast said it was about to rain.

it was probably only my guess:

but if i asked you,

directly or through the electronic device that you carried,

wouldn't your answer be ambiguous too?

so i took a pair of antique wooden chairs,

and let the white mug steaming,

blurring the window glass.

it sat unaccompanied

except by me

who was, like it, steaming,

and performing my simple rituals...

fourty five parallel

ah, it's home, home again.

the room is not tidy, but it's my own room now, not a hotel room or someone else's room. it's warm in a special way even when the heater is off. and even if all you have is a bag full of dirty laundries and a fridge without food left. you are back, so it's okay.

well, this is my first full day here. i came back from the eurpean continent yesterday morning. i took a bus from the lowland through belgium and france and a ferry that departed from calais port at two in the morning. cold and rainy it was. plus one hour across the strait, and landed again in dover harbour...

and then victoria station bid me a sleepy welcome as i made it to london at five thirty in the morning. the streets were yet empty. but the coffee shop was fortunately open.

it was a mixed emotion that i felt when i see england again. already i missed the people i met in the continent. something in me feels that the entire trip seems surreal, if you know what i mean. the towns i visited, the transportation methods i chose, the timing of my travel, the fantastic people i met, the activities i did, the stories shared between us... it was all just right.

and today, i feel restored. i am ready to resume my dissertation work although my laptop still has not worked yet. it has been angry at me since we were in paris... makes me "oi oi oi".

well, at least now i am back in the fourty five parallel. oxford.

"welcome back vahd," said john;

"vahd, i used your rice cooker when you were away, it's a good machine," confessed smitha;

"about your laptop problem, don't worry, i can transfer your files from the hard disc to your external one for free," daqi assured me;

"oh, it's very nice to see you again vahd... by the way do you know, i have to see a dentist today," said sandra...

ho ho ho... wonderful friends they are.

after a day of resting, now i think it's time to read, think, and write again, and continue my days as a student.

but before anything else, i sincerely want to thank all my friends and relatives who have been very kind and hospitable during my journey. you made it such a meaningful and unforgetable trip to me... so thank you, thank you very much indeed.

pipin

have a safe long journey home dear friend.
your departure was quick, and came as a surprise, though i knew it wasn't the real end.
the news of your losing of a dearest one, was truly among the hardest to overcome.
when i walked home that night, i did not stop praying for you and your family. except when i had to receive calls from our friends who wanted to learn about your condition.
i wish you are blessed with strength to bear the calamity and great fortitude to move on mightily.
have a safe long journey dear friend.
until you return again, stay brave!

fragments

i entered this month of june like a man running hard into a heavy rain with no umbrella or proper shade to get sheltered under. and interestingly to me the rain is also different from any other kind of rain. unlike the ones you see and get you wet in autumn or spring afternoons. this kind of rain may typically come when you walk alone in a bright daylight and suddenly see someone you know from your past.

so the rain pours on you and showers you with fragments of images and noises from somewhere stocked in your brain cells. like a rain that suddenly fall when you come to a wedding of a friend. and old friendly faces, your mates whose names are recorded secretely or not in your diary books would then appear. sharing their stories and smiles. laughing at those same old hilarious stupidities again until your eyes get wet again. the silly things that used to make you very shy to admit are now becoming more tolerable as you begin to realise that everyone makes mistakes in their lives. and learns lessons from them too.

and so that rain, the shower of fragments, fell upon my head a couple of times in the past weeks. i dont remember when it started. but i recall rather clearly that last sunday was a stormy day. "reading lights" book shop in my hometown witnessed me in such a situation of trying to get escape. back to ireland with frank delaney. this time ireland as a novel.

in friendship

some collect the cards; some compile the stamps; some enjoy the stories; some appreciate the efforts to send; some share the news with others; some prefer to keep it for private; some smile upon receiving it; some shed tears; some do it for the sake of proving something; some do it for paying back; some write on it quickly; some think hard to arrange the words; some have the addresses in their heads; some have to memorize them with the aid of pencil and paper... and even though i might not be able to send them all, by post, still you need to know my friends, that they are all there for you. in friendship from me.