Wednesday, 18 March 2015

So I wrote a poem

#np Sarah Kay's poem, "If I should have a daughter ...". 


So I wrote a poem that defies (I think) 90% of the rules on how to write a poem. I put the title as "I Imagine". 

Tell me what you think of the poem. I'm not the Yoda of poetry but you know, I gotta try. So here goes.

I Imagine

I imagine you having
this pair of dark brown eyes,
that would melt me in a millisecond;
this wavy long jet black hair,
wishing I can run my fingers through it;
this perfectly-shaped nose,
so perfect I just want to pinch it every time I see you.

I imagine you 
scrunching up your nose
every time you think really hard.
Also, you waking up next to me
every morning, till the day I die.
And you hogging the comforter all to yourself
because it is so cold outside.
Plus, us, cuddling under comforter on rainy days,
And you giving me silent treatment
for every time I screw up;
giving me multiple bear hugs every day
no matter how much I say I hate hugging.

Of course I will always want to
snuggle under your armpit,
putting your tie even though I'm bad at it,
do laundry and cook with you,
share your earphone and listen to your favourite songs,
debate over coffee and tea,

I imagine you saying:
"Your best feature is your lips",
"You look spectacular!" 
even though I look like a train wreck
"You be the Player 1 today!"
"Let's go shop for more books!"
"We should buy more bookshelves.."
among other things.

I know it's a tough life ahead
We are going to fight,
disagree, and
throw ultimatums. 

So, here's my promise:
I promise
to always snuggle under your armpits
through good days and bad,
make you coffee and put on your tie,
let you be the Player 1,
for as long as you want to.

Tuesday, 10 March 2015

Fitting in


Remember those years in high school when you feel the need and urge to change yourself just to fit in with anyone who's willing to be your friend? Sadly, this fitting in business did not strike me when I was in school. I was always so sure of myself. I didn't depend so much on people's definition of what I do or what I wear. Sure, there were days in which I wanted to dress up and look pretty but those moments were really infrequent I could hardly recall them. I was really independent back in those 5 years of high school. I didn't mind doing things on my own. I didn't mind being left alone to attend to my business. I didn't mind not going to the cinema to catch the latest movies with my friends or my classmates. I didn't care about having boys chasing me. I didn't care about how boys saw me as one of them, as one of their bros rather than as a girl. I was carefree. And I was happy. I was content even though to others, this very definition of living is mundane, boring, not worth living whatever.

Why was it so easy back then?

It's so difficult to be in my own skin now. I got criticized for everything I do, everything I wear. They aren't all exactly verbal and to my face. I can see the look in people's eyes when I wear my baju kurung with a pair of sneakers and my messenger bag. I can see how people judge me upon seeing me wearing a set of attires that aren't colour-coordinated.

And there is nothing wrong with me not knowing what is concealer and how to use eyeliner, or randomly talking to a street painter, or finding a bench while you have the time of your life shopping with your best buds. I was miserable the whole time. I wish I could tell you this. But oh well, I am a wimp. You'll know we're not close and I don't really like you if I don't open up to you on how I feel about things.

I don't want to fit in. I want to be able to be myself. If I don't open up, if I change my attire, if I have second thoughts on what to do or how to act -you know I don't fit in there, with you and your cliques.