November Rain

….And the night sky of Klang Valley seemed to be extraordinarily clear that evening as my voice rose to the third octave of F major for the bridge of Helloween’s Your Turn. My two faithful guitarists heartily, yet rhythmically bopped their heads as the song rearing to its climax along a tempo, which somehow in-sync with the silent flashes of KL Tower’s safety night lights. The other member of the group also swayed with eyes tightly shut while nurturing a fag with an inch long ash on its tip, seemed almost too heavy to be realistically still attached.

 

“….. when you want it all,

you gotta see what it means.”

 

…with a few extra running chords strummed on both guitars, the song came to its end. Then the silence of the night enveloped us again… all four of us were still drowned in the emotion of the Helloween’s masterpiece.

 

Suddenly, K’s voice sliced the silence with a naughty sneer, “A, kalau nko tak nak isap rokok tu tak payah la light, bazir beb!! Bak sini sebatang!” And all of us woke up with a start. The applause I heard moments after the song ended was actually the crickety-croak of night’s insects, while the whistles from the audience transformed back into a distant bellows of safety alarm from a car.

 

“Wei, korang dahaga tak? Sri Mesra jom?!” I suggested, as the combination of cigarettes and seven high-pitch songs had taken its toll on my tonsil.

“Jap jap, layan lagu ni sat, lepas ni kita turun,” B retorted and started to pluck gently on his acoustic stringed Kapok. Upon hearing the notes, I realised it’s gonna be another throat buster, yet devotedly I cleared my windpipe, ready to sing as K started to join into the melody with a gentle riff on his expensive and wonderfully tuned Craftman’s. As I passed the remaining fag in my hand to A, I started to sing. The first verse of Gadis Misteri proved to be deeply mesmerising. I didn’t care to whom M.Nasir dedicated this song to when he and Bob handed it to Search six years ago during the process of cutting the Fenomena album, I just hypnotised by its melody… spellbound by its lyrics… and drowned in the overall feel of the song…

 

And again, all four of us were transported back to our Lala Land where we were the greatest musicians ever existed on the face of the earth. As I tilted back my head to comfortably negotiate the second rep of the song’s chorus, I heard a distant voice beckoning me. “Ah… it must be A, trying to sing along,” I thought. Then the voice grew louder and rougher. “What in the hell A’s trying to do?! Ruining the song?”…

 

Finally, the voice cracks a shout-like ultimatum. Both guitars stopped, making the last few words of the verse that came out from my mouth fell flat out of key. Fuming, I turned to where A suppose to be sitting before I shut my eyes moments ago. As I about to scold him for damaging the feel of the song, I realised something odd… A, who was on my right, stared frozenly to my left with a cigarette still smouldering and lodged between his lips. I started to curse, “What the f…”… . And there was that voice again, much clearer now that I’m out of trance.

“Jangan bergerak! Angkat tangan kamu ke atas!…” What the f… indeed! Two dark clothes policemen stood some 10 feet from where B was sitting, training their revolvers on us. And their faces were carved stone, while mine felt void of blood, all siphoned down to my chest and stomach, which suddenly felt terribly constricted…

To be continued…

 

p/s: K & B are my close friends till today, while A is my younger brother. Those who are close to me should have no problem guessing who the heck these dudes are.

 

Yusheff

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The Heart of A Father

I sent this to an e-mail thread of a group of friends (my group of friends) in September 2006. I post it here because, it’s an honest snippet of the realities of today’s life; that touches my HEART.

“As usual life’s hectic. Kerja, masya Allah…. tak habis-habis. .. but then again… kalau keja habis… soru miss. Pening-pening lalat balik ofis… mujur la ada 5 orang buah hati kat rumah. Terbang melayang penat lelah… Such is the magic of married life. The shine on their faces and their cheerful shrieks upon seeing you who sometime, when it’s already late, suddenly appear at the door after parking the car silently, in case the little ones already asleep. But how could you not wake them up… just to hear them call up “Ayah… ayah…ayah!!!” Those joyous faces who just glad you’re home.

So how could you not work like a dog, just to see those little faces lit with health and joy, the ultimate fruit of you slaving yourself, earning what life you can afford them to live on. As much as you love to hug them, kiss them, tickle those tiny feet and hands, and shower them with as much love and attention you know you’re able to give… it’s still the office where you have to spend most of your waking life at.

And they don’t care how much you earn, how much money in your bank account, how much balance in your credit cards or how worrying the current cost of living is… And they don’t care whether the teddies you bring home are stuffed craps from the pasar malam across the road or syndicated Disney’s licensed merchandise from Toys R Us, or you just come home empty handed… Their faces lit just the same…….. ……… …….They just glad you’re home.”

September 2006

So, come home dear daddies (and mommies), they’re missing you.

Yusheff

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Yusheff’s A Blogger?!!

“Seriously, you can make money out of it!!… That’s what I said to my dear friend, Mish, after reading her Blog for the first time. But, as days gone by… as her Blog changed (to me) from an interesting piece of writing, to a “must open” whenever I log on to the Internet, it slowly dawned on me that, while so many of us have so much to say about everything, only a selected few have the grit and stomach to actually say it (or write it) out loud for all to read. I, for instance, would chiefly grumble and bitch (verbally)… “Oh! I’m so disgusted by…”, or “I love it when…” or “… was the greatest experience in my life….,” without making any material impact or effect on those ears I abused and bored.

 

I once said to my better half, “How great it would be if I can blog.” And recently, it changed to, “Well, why can’t I blog?” And she retorted, “Why don’t you?” There are so many things to say and to express, yet so little opportunity to actually do it. But if I am to Blog, what would the theme be? What should I write about? I don’t think I’m skilled enough a writer to mould my opinions or stories into something really substantial and worth reading, or better still, worth pondering by others? Would it be just a waste of time and space?

 

It has been years since I toyed with the idea, asking back and forth within myself, the relevance of me, Blogging. Well, here (finally) is the answer: I’ll take my chances. I’m gonna do it!! I’m gonna gripe and moan, and grumble and bicker on-line. I’m gonna praise and condemn, share and spare on-line!! And most importantly, I’m gonna write about things that touch my HEART. And I fervently pray to God, to guide my hands and my mind, so that I’ll always stay frank and true, and that what I’m gonna write can benefit myself and others who happen to read it. Therefore, I humbly post to you, The HEART.

 

Yusheff

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