Firdauz takes 5

Aku semacam keliru dengan jiwa melayu aku.

Hilangkah ia? Bertukar kah ia? Atau aku ini, lumrahnya tidak sama?

Aku membaca, aku baca penulisan melayu di ruang siber. Aku jenguk, kalau tidak puas, aku selongkar arkibnya. Aku teliti tulisan pertama mereka. Aku ulang video-video mereka di youtube. Dan aku masih tidak dapat meletak jiwa aku sama rapat dengan mereka — bila mereka menulis yang seni. Bila mereka meluahkan yang dari hati — ikhlas, tapi sukar untuk aku membayar harga yang patut.

Jadi aku membaca yang percuma, yang ringan-ringan, yang kelakar, yang penuh ketawa, yang kurang muhasabah diri, yang kurang cerita tuhan dan kepercayaan mereka untuk kembali, kerana malayu itu bangsanya bimbang, pada aku, untuk mati tanpa tuhan dalam hati.

Jadi aku ini, melayu yang bagaimana? Tiada tuhan dalam hati. Tidak benci, tidak sayang, tidak wujud, tidak percaya. Tidak berseni? Tidak melayu? Tidak percaya? Tidak melayu?

Aku semacam keliru dengan jiwa melayu aku. Berhari-hari, berhari-raya, beramah-mesra, bersaudara, makan lemang serunding kelapa, aku tiada masalah. Aku sukakan yang berkongsi, aku gemarkan yang bercerita, aku hormatkan yang tua dan muda. Tiada masalah.

Masalah jiwa melayu aku adalah ketuhanan, aku melayu yang tidak percaya, tiada tuhan dalam hati. Tapi masih ada gembira, tiada benci untuk yang percaya, tiada iri hati kalau betul mereka ke syurga. Tidak melihat serong yang bertudung bermain guitar, tidak melihat serong yang tidak bertudung ke surau bersujudkan tuhan. Tidak menyuruh mereka bertudung, tidak melarang mereka untuk bertudung.

Bukan aku tidak peduli, aku tidak beriman, sayang, tidak percaya ada taman cantik, kolam api dan tuhan adil, sebelah sana.

Jadi aku hidup tanpa iman, tanpa percaya akan tuhan — selesa, sama gembira, biasa saja, tidak risau jika esok hari aku mati tiada tuhan dalam hati.

Firdauz tidak pedulikah kalau kawannya jatuh ke nereka? Yang paling benarnya, dia tidak percaya. Firdauz tidak pedulikah kalau tidak ke syurga? Yang paling benarnya, dia tidak percaya. Firdauz tidak pedulikah yang kami percaya adilnya tuhan, indahnya syurga dan azabnya neraka? Yang paling benarnya, dia tumpang sepenuh gembira, sepenuh gembira untuk kamu yang masih beriman.

Aku melakukan yang mungkar, bukan mahu diri di contohi, kerana iman dan mungkar itu, konteknya letak dalam agama.

Aku manusia tiada agama, tiada tuhan dalam hati, namun masih ada jiwa, ada perasaan, masih mahu appreciate kamu. Jadi aku membaca penulisan kamu di ruang siber. Masih mahu kamu teruskan, masih mahu kamu berjuang, masih mahu kamu ke syurga, masih mahu kamu agungkan Pencipta.

Jadi aku selalu berdiam, bila melewat ke tulisan kamu. Iya, aku baca tulisan kamu. Aku melihat video-video kamu. Aku tahu kamu juga baca tulisan aku. Kita diam sama-sama? Sayang sama-sama?

Kerana aku tidak tahu, jika aku masih diterima masyarakat melayu, atau majoritinya, maka aku selalu diam membaca. Tidak komen, masih membaca.

Dan mengapa aku tulis tentang melayu? Mengapa tidak disertakan Cina dan India dan seluruh rakyat Malaysia atau satu dunia? Kamu racistkah Firdauz. Kerena entri ini khas, aku tujukan untuk kamu, penulis seni cerita pendek dan puisi yang berlagu, pemain gitar baju kurung, si penyair yang kini sudah bertudung, yang masih gentar dan cintakan Pecipta.

Cinta kita tak mungkin sama. Jadi aku melihat sahaja, berkongsi gembira, macam biasa, dari jauh. Macam biasa, macam hari bintang jatuh.

Macam biasa, buat-buat biasa. (Walaupun tulisan kita sentiasa berbeza ideologinya, kita saling menyentuh yang paling dalam, bukan?)

I never thought anyone would think of me before they go to sleep.

I mean like, which idiot would think of me before he/she goes to sleep, thinking of me doesn’t save the world, it saves the whole universe and all the stars and and moons and planets and makes the ozone thicker and YOU GUYS ARE SO UNGRATEFUL TO HAVE NEVER THOUGHT OF ME BEFORE GO TO BED ONE!

See, i damn bitchy right, lately.

You know what makes this world a better place? A person like Wanie. This is what Wanie messaged me last night before she went to sleep.

“twas rainin dis eve n i thot of u n sandwiches inna basket u sold in upm hehe i still tink dats d most adorable way to sell sandwich! Nite2 firdy, u n ur sandwiches r d last thot on my mind b4 i go to sleep 2nite yay! :x”

- Wanie, via sms.

She messaged me like suddenly, unexpected, just before she went to sleep. See!!! People should sayang me more like how Wanie sayang me. I will never blog about Yee Hou or KY or Mellissa or Nicholas or anyone la, they’re such bad people! Never gave me sweet messages also!

=(

I hate my friends, i think they are the worst people. Can you be my new friend? We can talk bad about Yee Hou and KY and Mellissa and Nicholas, i know all the gossip you know. Do you know that Mellissa, ok, cannot blog here =P

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button was the movie i watched after a can of Sprite; i drank it with a cup filled with 13 round ice cubes — i counted them with a black straw —, were hollow in the middle, just like the straw.

I had exchanged my usual Diet Coke with a can of Sprite, this was in the Yellow Cab Pizza before i went to watch the movie with 3 other guys. It wasn’t a thing i would usually do : to have pizzas with 3 other guys and to argue about the sizes and actually won the argument, or to drink Sprite, or to count ice cubes with a black straw, or even, to have remembered things like these.

My day for that evening began with an anomalous morning where i text a girl saying “You’re my girlfriend now” without even thinking that could push her further away — a thing that i had never done whimsically in my whole life but i did it because this girl made me feel strange feelings that i didn’t usually feel towards other girls. Things that i felt, sadly, were never the things that she felt so i thought of agreeing one thing with her : That i was, an idiot.

Being agreed that i was an idiot that morning, had put a lot of pressure on me, and this pressure was released in loud music i listened with borrowed headphones. The paradox of releasing stress with feeding more noise into my ear canals worked in the most mysterious way — i felt better and worse in every 20 minutes. I felt better that i was rejected — of the good things that could come, and i felt worse that it actually hurt, to have been rejected.

My t-shirt for that day had my name printed on it : Firdy — was tailor-made by a friend in Singapore, was a christmas gift. It didn’t spell ‘Idiot’ because my Singaporean friend had no idea of this particular strange day where i felt like a total idiot bearing my name proudly on the t-shirt and walked around the city trying to act smart by saying this to myself, “I’ll be happy tomorrow, and she will disappear.”

She never disappeared, not since we first met.

She appeared in every minute of The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, she appeared as someone i could one day love, of someone i could tell that it would be okay not to love me back as much because she would be too young to understand, of someone who would tell me to stop dancing and singing like a penguin because she would feel embarrassed seeing me doing those every morning despite my age and for many hours in the cinema, i was thinking that in my age, real happiness and romance could only happen when the film was being projected onto the white screen, or when a writer, writes.

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button was the fictional movie i watched after a can of real-life Hope; i drank it with a plastic cup filled with shattered dreams — i couldn’t count them, they were too many —, but of course, were hollow just like my heart.

***

Lol, such a depressing entry.

I put happy pictures lah. I WANT CAMWHORE EVERYDAY AND CALL MY FRIENDS STUPID CAN AH.

Phew, =P

Oh, poor birdie wants to fly free.

Kesiannya!

and had larger front teeth, my mother used to say “Tutup mata tu! Tidur pun main-main lagi!”

But soon after my mother had left the room, my brother used to say “Adik, kau dah tidur ke?”

And we would talk about The Pink Panther, and we would sing its theme song and talk about dinosaurs and gigantic robots and laser guns.

So i’m closing my eyes now, because yesterday i had a laser gun. My laser gun made the nicest sound, it sounded like this,

“Ti tiu tiu!, ti tiu ti tiu, ti tiu ti tiu!”

And every sound it made, turned our ears red because Umie, my mother, would always come back to check on our ears. If they were the shades of brown, she would make them red.

BUT IT WAS SO FUCKING COOL TO HAVE A LASER GUN.

So i’m closing my eyes now, because i’m making silly excuses. i just want to cam whore!

=P

And i still have the bunny teeth. Huhu =P . I never grow up! Cool.

I was on the phone with a friend, she asked,

“The Malays are muslims right?”

“Uhuh. Constitutionally.” i replied.

“And all muslims go to heaven, and hell is for the the infidels right?

“Uhuh. You’re not bad eh? You know a lot too.”

“Oh well, i got Malay friends. But i’m curious about something. After all the adventurous sex, and all those bah kut teh and wine and beer, what’s your plan to go to heaven? Don’t be a sceptic and tell me hell is so much fun.”

“I don’t believe in heaven and hell.”

“Let’s say you believe in them. And there is God and heaven and hell. What’s your plan then?”

“Easy peasy. When i die, i’ll show Him my I.C.”

***

My friend didn’t laugh and thought that it was a bad joke. So i told her another one,

“So a Pakistani dies and he goes up to the top heaven. He knocks on the gates,”

“Ok,”

“and St. Peter opens the gates and asks the Pakistani, ”What the fuck do you want?’”

“Haha. St. Peter says that?”

“Yes. And the Pakistani replies ‘I’m here for Jesus’.”

“But why Jesus?”

“Shut up and listen to my story. The muslims also believe in Jesus, so this Pakistani is looking for Jesus probably to thank him and kiss on his cheeks, i dunno! But instead, St. Peter looks at the Pakistani, turns around and shouts, ‘Jesus, your cab is here’.”

***

And when she started to laugh, i told another joke,

“There are two conservative Malay sisters, Aminah and Rokiah. They just arrive in the USA. They spot a hot dog vendor. Aminah tells Rokiah, ‘Dia orang makan dogs la dekat sini’. ‘Peliknya!’ says Aminah.”

“Haha. Continue please.”

“Then Aminah tells Rokiah that if they were to live in the USA, they might as well follow their way of living. So the sisters walk towards the hot dog vendor and order two dogs.”

“Then, what happens.”

“You suka potong i cerita kan. Senyap ok. Then the sisters sit on a bench. Aminah is first to unwrap her ‘dog’. When she sees the meat, her cheeks turns pink, and then red, she’s blushing with joy. She leans over to her sister Rokiah, and dengan manjanya she says “Kakak dapat bahagian yang mana?”

***

P/s : Please don’t take jokes too seriously ok. You’ll lose all the fun. =)

A friend came to me, and started asking me about a ferrari,

“Hey. What do you call an indian who drives a ferrari?”

This was an overplayed joke, so i answered it, “A fucking thief, of course. Hoho.”

“Hehe, now what do you call 2 indians who drive a ferrari?” asked him while raising two fingers, emphasizing that it should be 2 indians right now.

I paused for a while. “Two thieves?”

“No. An organized crime.”

***

After a good laugh because we all loved racist jokes and there were the best to laugh at, and because we didn’t take jokes too seriously, he then asked us again,

“What do you call an indian who flies an aeroplane full of innocent passengers?”

“A fucking terrorist!” answered another friend.

“No. Ya’ll fucking racists!” he said. “We call him, a pilot.”

No one loves Mellissa more than a few idiots do; and that idiot could be you.

Take a look at this video;

See what i mean?

The story behind this video is that i asked her to act like a bimbo — to act like me — because you know, she admires me and stuff and bla bla bla, and everyone believes that she secretly likes me; wants to marry me and shits you do want to hear.

Well, i understand that Mel. I can never like you. But perhaps, someone can?

I love you Mel?

=P

P/s: Today is actually Mel’s final day at work. She did an internship, and she’s going back to Melbourne. They all love you Mel, you take care ok.

A sequel to Chapter 2. The ghosts of my life, an autobiography.

“That is not dead which can eternal lie,
And with strange aeons even death may die.”

- The Necronomicon in The Nameless City, by H.P. Lovecraft.

6.

It tasted like mountains; maybe skies (or maybe just the lake), i was 6, maybe 5, but the rain, i remember.

It was always yesterday, i remember.

The clouds moved; became slower, heavier, and they became one color : the color of curfew i remember, running with Abang and leaving our camp and guns and grenades behind and charging at 18, Jalan Pauh.

7.

18, Jalan Pauh was a double-story terrace with 4 rooms — 5 rooms if the torture room were to be included. The house was white, and the white walls were decorated with our art — there were aeroplanes drawn by Abang, there were helicopters drawn by me; and for each aircraft we produced on the wall, there would be marks that looked like safety boats to complement our drawings — made by Umie’s sharp fingernails when she pinched them hard onto our skin.

These marks (or these safety boats), were usually red and painful but sometimes, sometimes the red could turn green, and the green could turn blue, and the blue could turn black, (and eventually, the pain could disappear too if i cried long enough), but the spectrum and the shades of the safety boats were determined by Umie’s natural talent of holding her breath.

“Kau dua orang ni, deeggiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiilll la sangat!” would probably make red boats to appear on our skin (and pleasure to rise from Umie’s face).

And if Umie had too much pleasure, she would then continue with :

(more…)

[Updated on Wednesday, February 11th, 2009]

I’ve sold my soul to Rexona, i sold it cheap, 5 ringgit 90 cents because i very tak laku one.

=(

BUUUUUUUUTTTT, IF I HAD AN ABSOLUTE EXTREME LIFE, i would have sold it higher. 5 million ringgits maybe, who knows, i have the cleanest armpits, they schmell so nice.

I’m Firdauz, my armpits are my life, of course i do have an extreme life! What are you talking about, how extreme you want it to be? I’m a fisherman, and what i fish, are not men. Sadly, no. I don’t fish men, boo, i fish fresh experiences, things which i never experienced, liiikkkeeee making up sentences, peculiar sentences that don’t make much sense but they travel upwards and they scatter into stars.

Seeeeeeeeee? That’s what a fisherman does : we talk nonsense.

Now, Rexona has this contest that i know i’m no way near to winning any prize, in fact, i think i’ll do my own contest. It’s more extreme this way.

My lunch-date contest.

It has to be extreme, right?

So, you’re gonna turn up on an extreme lunch-date with me. I’ve done millions of lunch dates, and i have a success rate of 100%, which also means, i have 500 millions of girlfriends. Yes i do. One of them is Gisele Bündchen and is dying to marry me.

And by extreme lunch-date it means we eat things that we have never eaten before, and we do things we have never done before, like, throwing the plates and food to prepare ourselves for a tragic marriage, or, we visit the kitchen of any restaurant and we ask the chef to teach us how to boil an egg using a birthday cake candle, and if the chef scolds us out from the restaurant, we laugh at him first before we apologize ok.

And if this sounds too extreme for you, do you know that i cook? We can cook together and if the cooking turns out bad, i’ll blame you. Yes i will. I will even write a complaint letter to your mother.

And then we’re gonna do some charity. You’re gonna do the dishes while i go watch some movie and being lazy on the couch. That is a good charity.

And if everything sounds too extreme for you, you let me know how do you like to spend your day with me. I’m just suggesting some of them, the rest is actually up to you.

And of course, i’ll pay for every bill, and i’ll make sure my armpits schmell so nice. I’ll put on Rexona okay.

It’s a contest where everyone is a winner.

No one loses anything, really. You get to choose what kind of a new experience to have. You get to choose whether you want to swim with the dolphins, or beat up a loan shark or what ever things you’ve been longing to do.

Some of my past dates who enjoy doing silly stuff.

Even in the office, i have my Rexona with me.

Owh,

Hidayah dan Godop bawa aku lari pegi Hartamas, konon-konon nak makan mi wantan.

PASAL MI WANTAN NAK MAKAN KAT HARTAMAS PUN NAK BLOG KE? Haram jadah.

Tapi best apa blog pasal mi wantan. Ceritanya begini;

Aku tengah tengok channel sports dekat astro, agak jakun jugak lah. Sebab sebelum ni, astro aku memang takda pakej sports, pasal aku memang tak layan sports kalau sorang-sorang, bukan aku benci sports, tak, tak benci, cuma tak layan kalau takda kaki.

Kaki tu, maksud saya, kawan-kawan yang boleh cerita pasal sports yang dorang tengah layan tu. Aku mana tau apa-apa pasal sports. Yang aku tau, aku kena sokong Liverpool, pasal kena paksa.

Aku kena paksa macam ni;

“Firdauz, kalau orang tanya, cakap you sokong Liverpool tau,” kata Jannah Raffali.

“Owh ok. Kalau dorang tanya nama players Liverpool?”

Dan Jannah bercerita perihal top players yang nama mereka pun aku dah lupa. Tapi aku ingat, aku tanya macam ni;

“So, boleh tak i cakap i sokong Liverpool dengan Manchester United?”

“Tak boleh. Kena pukul nanti.” Balas Jannah.

“Cakap i sokong Liverpool dengan Chelsea?”

“Kena pukul lagi teruk.”

So aku ambik kesimpulan, sports yang buat aku tak kena pukul, adalah tengok sport channels sorang-sorang kat astro. Tapi sports channels tu selalu takde subtitles, dorang ganti dengan nombor-nombor kat bawah tu. Baju dorang pun selalu ada nombor. Kadang-kadang, dorang bukak baju dan menjerit atas padang. Bola yang atas meja yang dorang tonjol-tonjol guna kayu tu pun ada nombor. Tapi takde orang bukak baju lagi. Penuh nombor la channels ni. Takde orang kena pukul pun? Belum lagi lah kot.

Tengah aku layan sport channels yang takda subtitles tu, Hidayah datang ajak aku keluar. Pegi mana aku tanya, dia cakap pegi Hartamas.

Sampai hartamas, sumpah aku takut. Aku phobia dengan food courts sebenarnya. Especially, kalau aku sorang-sorang. Cafe atau restaurants atau fast food joints atau mamak atau mana-mana tempat makan selain food courts, aku no hal. Sorang-sorang pun aku tak kisah. Berdua-dua lagi tak kisah. Food courts, aku takut. Sebab aku perasan, orang kat food courts suka tengok aku semacam. Macam nak pukul aku je, sumpah aku tak tipu. Tak percaya bawak aku keluar jalan pegi food courts, mesti orang tengok-tengok aku, kalau yang perempuan, tengok aku macam nak bagi harapan. Kalau yang lelaki, tengok aku macam nak suap muka aku dengan kaki dan lengan.

SEBAB AKU TAK TENGOK SPORTS CHANNELS LAH NI BADAN AKU TAK KETUL-KETUL KOT!

Tapi aku swimming apa, macam dolphin, seminggu at least 2-3 kali.

Owh, mi wantan. Kedai jual mi wantan kat hartamas tu tutup. YANG KAU ORANG BACA BLOG BIMBO NI PASAL APA? Caps lock best tau.

CERITA TAMAT. Padan muka. Baca lagi blog tak guna ni.

Hihi. =P

Oleh kerana Ops Sikap diimplementasikan, kebanyakkan anggota polis telah mendirikan sekatan jalan raya.

Oleh kerana Malaysia merupakan salah satu negara dimana kepincangan sosial memakan suap adalah suatu pasal yang biasa, aku terpaksa membayar Yuran Perlindungan.

Jika Yuran Perlindungan tidak dibayar, dompet aku akan mengalami kesusahan yang tidak terbanding.

RM40 tau? Duit itu adalah 20 peratus sebuah Microdrive 4GB.

Maka aku pun bisik dalam hatiku “Puk* itu polis!”

Walaubagaimanapun, aku telah mendapat kerja di sebuah kedai kamera. Kepada wanita tersebut yang memerlukan sebuah kamera benar, sila mengawalkan diri sendiri semasa membeli belah supaya dapat menabung duit untuk mendapat sebuah kamera. Sila hubungi Doktor tersebut melalui butang ‘Contact’ yang terletak sebelah kiri laman web ini.

- Tan Yee hou, 2006.

Isn’t Yee Hou the cutest thing?

Puk* itu polis!

lol

Sila mengawalkan diri sendiri =P

While heading to Kepong for Bah Kut Teh (Kepong’s Bah Kut Teh are not bad at all!), a friend had asked me,

“Patrick,”

“Yes,”

“You remember last time we had Chinese New Year and Hari Raya together and we called it Kongsi Raya?”

“Yeah, i remember.”

“Now, what do you call a Chinese New Year and Thaipusam?”

“Errmmm….. Kongsi Pusam?” i took a guess.

“Close, but not correct. It’s Kongsi Gelap.”

Happy Thaipusam everyone! Don’t take jokes too seriously yeah! =)

“Firdauz, do you know what Buah Zakar is?” asked a friend.

“Of course i do! I’m a malay. It’s your genitals you idiot.”

“But why do they call it Buah. It doesn’t look like a fruit to me.”

Silly friend i have. Don’t you like it when your girlfriend juices it?

“They name the private parts Buah because of its shape, it bulges.”

“But they don’t call Tetek Buah”

“They do. They call them Buah Dada.”

“Really meh? But why Buah? They don’t look like fruits!”

What kind of girlfriend do you have? A runway of an airport?

“Lalalalala Ulysses
I’ll find a new way.
I’ll find a new way, baby.”

Franz Ferdinand’s new album, Tonight = <33333333

The album is craaaaaazzzyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy. Fucking genius.