Murky Clarity

Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end

I wrote a post, back in February, about how my life quite literally came to a screeching halt, how I entered a transition, hoping things would one day get better.

To be honest, I don't know if I've gotten any better. I can start lifting weights again, and I can jog and cycle, but whenever I exert myself, especially during busy calls where I have to rush about the hospital, my left hip throbs and hurts. Most times I just brave the pain, but I have my supply of Arcoxia close by. And, every time I sit behind the wheel, I relive every vivid moment of the accident. For those who cannot remember their experience of road traffic accidents, consider it a blessing. I remember, and my cinematic memory does not make things any easier. Imagine a crash test dummy documentary, where they show a video from inside a car as it crashes, complete with sound effects and background music. Now imagine it replaying over and over again.

That's what it's like for me.

The situation at work is not any better, but I've learned my lesson the hard way. No blogging about work and colleagues lest someone prints out the page and distribute it to the whole department. So, no bitching about work. I'm just taking in whatever shit thrown my way and making the best out of it.

Now. I wanted to post this much earlier, but I had to wait before I could take any decent pictures. Remember the rickety Kancil I likened my transitional life to? I returned it two Thursdays ago, just in time to welcome Mama and Arwen to Kelantan in my spanking new car.

"What?" you ask. "Another Nissan?"

"Yes," I say. "Another Nissan. Because."

My experience with my Latio has been a great one, from the moment I stepped into the showroom at Jalan Raja Laut, to the after sales care, to the moment the car saved my life, and to the period where I was stuck in Kelantan and the staff ETCM/Nissan helped me all the way in claiming my insurance and getting a new car. I'm used to the system, and I'm satisfied with it. So, my most logical choice is an affordable upgrade.

Say hello to my new Sylphy/Bluebird 2012.

I originally wanted to get a Sylphy Impul, but the salesman, Mr. Low, advised me to wait and be patient with my rental for another month or so, as the new model would be launched on March 9. So I waited. And yes, it was worth the wait.

I opted for the full spec model, with a pre-installed navigational system and leather interior. Given the option between black and dark brown leather, Mr. Low advised me to take the black one, so black I took. Faizul and my brother told me to take the solid white exterior, and I'm glad I agreed with them. I added a layer of coating on top of the paint, with a price tag of RM2250. The skirting, v-Kool tint and 16-inch sport rims (5 of them, including the spare tire) came with the package.

The exterior looks solid and sporty, unlike the Auntie-vibe you get with the standard older models, and the interior is elegant and spacious. God, it's freaking spacious. I haven't tried sleeping in the car, and I think I should. One of the cool features is the keyless entry system. The keys remain in my pocket as I touch the door and chant, "Alohamora." The door unlocks. No joke. With the keys still in my pocket, I turn the knob to start the engine. I chant "Alohamora" when I feel like it. Now I'm wishing I can do the same with the doors to my apartment, because, you know, getting the keys out of my pocket and going through the trouble of turning the lock, it's what Muggles do. And you guys know how special I am.

I can go on and on about the specs, but I'm not a car reviewer. Quite frankly, I don't know shit about cars. All I can say is that even though it has automatic transmission, I don't feel the drag-and-lurch I used to experience with my Latio whenever the car changes gears. The ride remains smooth as silk. Fuel consumption is quite good, but I haven't sped my car over 100kmph (where I can do that in Kota Bharu, you tell me), and I haven't travelled long-distance, so I'll tell you about it later. "Accidental" speeding over bumps doesn't jolt my off my seat, so the suspension's awesome. Air conditioning uses climate control; I set the desired temperature, and the car decides the speed of the fan until the desired temperature is achieved. How cool is that? Now I just have to figure out how to make it snow inside the car to achieve full climate control.

Hey, a guy can always wish, can't he?

Two things are important for me, though: comfortable seats with ample leg space for all passengers, and frakking good sound system. For the first, y'all know I'm a single guy with a family, right? So my family has to be comfortable in my car. Mama and Arwen approve, so I'm happy. The second? Everyone knows I'm a music freak. People know my car is approaching because the music gets louder. So imagine my excitement when I found out that the navigational system comes with Bluetooth and iPod dock. Not only I can make calls using the navigator screen, I can choose songs from my iPhone regardless whether I connect it to the dock or not. SCHWING!

I can now listen to all 3000+ songs on my iPhone, and the music is great. The car's insulation system is awesome, and I'm separated from the rest of the world when I shut the door, and I can listen to my music full blast. I can dance while driving (hey, it's still much safer than tweeting or doodling), and I can sing at the top of my lungs. I don't care if you people outside are looking at me funny. I'm insulated, yo!

With my Latio, I just called it "Car". My ritual whenever I drove it the first time after more than 2 days away was to sit behind the wheel, smile, and say, "Hello, Car," under my breath. The car was androgynous. This baby, however, is a girl. Last night, when I got in the car, I ran my fingers over the leather finish, and stroked the leather-wrapped steering wheel, I whispered, "Hello, sweetheart."

I sincerely hope that life post-accident will be an upgrade. For now, I rest my hand on the door handle and chant, "Alohamora."

The door unlocks.

The engine starts with barely a sound.

Cheers. And drive safe.

 

PS: all the photos were taken using my iPhone 4. Goes to show you don't need DSLRs, really. Just saying.

Unfinished business

I started this story in 2004. Back then, I wrote snippets as blog entries on my Friendster account. These two characters, Adrian and Rina, appeared in my head out of nowhere, unpacked, and have claimed a room each ever since. No, they don't co-habit.

From those snippets a story bloomed. Sometimes I concocted scenes, sometimes I dreamed about them. Adrian and Rina want their story to be told, and they chose me to tell it. Of all people. Unfortunately (for them), I succeeded in writing 6000 words or so, and 1 1/2 songs before I decided to shelf them. Not yet, I told myself. I'm not ready to do them justice. Not even when my brother, who disagrees with me on everything, and doesn't generally read my works, suddenly told me to finish the story.

It's now 2012. I have over 20 published short stories, 3 unfinished novels (including Adrian and Rina), and a whole bunch of 1-paragraphs. Most published novelists will say that their first published novel isn't their first novel; they have at least 2 or 3 novels that will remain unpublishable. I don't know if I will tell the same story. I have to finish a novel first before I can say anything.

I don't think I am ready to tell the story of my two beloved characters. I don't know if I'll ever be ready. Right now there's someone younger who demands my attention, whose story needs to be told. I don't know if I'll ever finish his story, either.

But I damn well will try.

For now, here's the opening chapter of Adrian and Rina. I hope they'll be patient and understanding enough to stay until I type "END".

__________________________________________________________

 

Adrian

I seriously hated this.

The LRT station at Ampang Park was packed like the whole population of Kuala Lumpur had decided to board the train from this station. I adjusted the strap of my guitar case to shift its weight on my shoulder and looked at my watch. It was six in the evening. On a Wednesday. Damn commuters. I thought about hanging around until the rush-hour crowd had subsided, but then I remembered that I only had ten ringgit left in my wallet. And my bank account was nothing to shout about either. I let out a small sigh and queued up to buy my ticket.

I had come to Ampang Park to look for an audio editing software, and also to avoid having to make the longer and more annoying trip to Low Yatt Plaza to look for the CD. But it had been over a year since I last came here, and I found out the hard way most of the shops that sold software had shut down, and the few that still opened for business did not have what I was looking for. Which meant I would have to go to Low Yatt after all. Bummer.

I tugged at the guitar strap, my annoyance building, and walked down the staircase to the underground platform, which practically was a large rectangular room with dark glass panels as side walls. And it was so full of people I’d be surprise if there was any room left to breathe. Most of them looked like office-goers, with their shirts and slacks. Some even wore suits, though I couldn’t figure out why, with this humidity. The women in general wore either baju kurung, kebaya, or blouse-and-skirt. I could even spot several school uniforms, even though it was too late in the evening for morning session students, and too early for afternoon session to be out.

I found an empty spot at a pillar facing the track toward Gombak, which was the last stop and the station after my destination. I unslung my guitar case and leaned back against the pillar. Reaching for my back pocket, I took out my iPod and put on the white earphones. Evanescence’s Call Me When You’re Sober filled my ears when I hit play. The din of chatter around me and automated announcements drowned out as I cranked up the volume. It was bad enough to be surrounded with all these people without having to bear the noise of humanity. A mousey-looking lady standing beside me glanced up at my direction – at my earphone blasting like stereo speakers to be exact – but I ignored her completely.

The train came at the middle of the song, but when the doors slid opened, I could see it was already full. But it didn’t stop the people standing behind the yellow line from jostling through and squeezing into the train. They didn’t even wait for people to come out first. Typical. Put monkeys in suits and they would act the same manner, if not slightly better. I stayed where I was, intending to catch the next train. But, judging from the large crowd still waiting on the platform, I wasn’t expecting it would be any less packed.

Three songs and two trains later, the traffic still didn’t look like it was lightening up. I decided to board the next one no matter how full it could be. In a city filled with monkeys, I wasn’t above being one too. I was standing in front of the sliding doors when the train arrived, slightly to the side to allow potential exiting traffic. It wasn’t that I was being considerate; I didn’t like people bumping into me or my guitar. A short, balding man moved away from the spot at the edge of the door, just beside the seat partition, and I quickly took over his place before anyone else had the chance to do so. Sighing in relief for finding a place without having to push and jostle into the train, I placed the guitar upright between my legs and leaned back against the glass paneled wall. The stench of crammed and damp humanity assaulted my nose the moment the doors closed, and I was thankful I was almost a head taller than most people here. It gave me room to breathe.

Dhuk-dhuk, dhuk-dhuk. Dhuk-dhuk, dhuk-dhuk. Dhuk-dhuk, dhuk-dhuk.

The gentle swaying motion of the carriage as the LRT sped away from the heart of Kuala Lumpur was made more obvious by my leaning against the wall. The motion, as well as the uncomfortable mixture of a riot of perfumes and stench of damp clothing was making me slightly nauseous. I tried focusing on the opposite window when the train got above ground, but raindrops collecting on the outside surface only served to distort the view, which was not helping at all. I closed my eyes and concentrated on listening to my iPod to prevent myself from gagging.

Edwin McCain’s I’ll Be started to play, and even though I love the song, I was in no mood to listen to anything mellow at that moment. I took out my iPod from my back pocket, which was a feat considering how little space I had to move, and shuffled through several songs. That’s when I heard a baby crying loudly from the other end of my carriage.

What kind of person would bring an infant into such a packed train?

The Killers’ All the Things that I’ve Done effectively drowned out the annoying wail and the rest of the world. I closed my eyes again to make the isolation complete.