If Today Was Your Last Day
Songwriters: Kroeger, Chad;
My best friend gave me the best advice
He said each day's a gift and not a given right
Leave no stone unturned, leave your fears behind
And try to take the path less traveled by
That first step you take is the longest stride
If today was your last day and tomorrow was too late
Could you say goodbye to yesterday?
Would you live each moment like your last
Leave old pictures in the past?
Donate every dime you had, if today was your last day?
What if, what if, if today was your last day?
Against the grain should be a way of life
What's worth the price is always worth the fight
Every second counts 'cause there's no second try
So live like you're never living twice
Don't take the free ride in your own life
If today was your last day and tomorrow was too late
Could you say goodbye to yesterday?
Would you live each moment like your last?
Leave old pictures in the past?
Donate every dime you had?
And would you call those friends you never see?
Reminisce old memories?
Would you forgive your enemies?
And would you find that one you're dreaming of?
Swear up and down to God above
That you'd finally fall in love if today was your last day?
If today was your last day
Would you make your mark by mending a broken heart?
You know it's never too late to shoot for the stars
Regardless of who you are
So do whatever it takes
'Cause you can't rewind a moment in this life
Let nothing stand in your way
'Cause the hands of time are never on your side
If today was your last day and tomorrow was too late
Could you say goodbye to yesterday?
Would you live each moment like your last?
Leave old pictures in the past?
Donate every dime you had?
And would you call those friends you never see?
Reminisce old memories?
Would you forgive your enemies?
And would you find that one you're dreaming of
Swear up and down to God above
That you'd finally fall in love if today was your last day?
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Monday, March 15, 2010
my day, these days
When I started that motorcycle, Ayah called out.
"Bawak motor molek-molek."
I smiled, waved back, said Bismillah in my heart and began my ride to the PSM. I was late.
By 11.00am, I arrived. Many were waiting for their turn, most of them were students for tomorrow's JPJ test. AC was one of them. Since I'm a newbie (and a late one), Pok Jat called me the last. Around 1.00pm was when he finally resorted to me. I bet I was one of his worst student in history. But I have never hurt any of the 'tiang', so he should consider himself (and me) lucky.
"Awak bawok je keta. Saya nak bawok Siti ni gi Cherating dulu ke...hahaha," he said. I frowned but he was confident to leave me doing the parking and the '3 penjuru' alone, so I walked to the car feeling "Why shouldn't I feel confident?"
So I did it. I did the parking and 3 penjuru stuff four times, although I was sure my side mirror hit a 'tiang' once. All in all, I think I wasn't bad. But I don't think any JPJ guy will give me a passing grade.
Then I was tired. I parked the PSM car under a 'kelapa' tree and I called Pok Jat. I told him I was done.
"Doh awak gi ah minum air dulu."
"Ke pok nok suruh saya 'naik bukit' (one of the driving requirements) dulu?"
"Dok lari eh bukit tu. Balik ah dulu. Hari Khamis pulok."
So I grabbed my bag and off I go with AC riding with me.
I drop by AC's house to drop AC (obviously) and to take first look at her infamous new DSLR. It was a nice piece of machine and I kept encouraging her to take photography but she had her mind made up for architecture.
"Bawak molek," she said as I was leaving.
From her house, I had to do a U-turn at the first legal opportunity (haha)to make my way home. I turned left at the junction before the biggest traffic light in Kemaman (4 junctions, traffic light with numbers???) into the road alongside the Padang Astaka. That was where the highlight of today's short story happened.
Just when I was in the junction, the back tire of the motorcycle was going to the sides. It felt funny and unstable because the front tire was straight. This is not good for fast rider like me. So I stopped and called Ayah.
"Tunggu situ. Ayah gi."
Then I waited. My father came in a Myvi (like my own personal hero) and brought a foot pump. He pumped the back tire and asked me to ride to the nearest workshop. He'll drive alongside me.
The ride, though short and slow, I would say one of the most dangerous ride I've ever been on. And I have been riding a motorcycle since I was 8! (I've always been tall. Go figures.) That's a decade worth of riding.
The motorcycle was going to the right and to the left like an untamed horse. But I kept on a steady face. I'm an experienced rider, am I not? (don't judge the L on the motorcycle. I should be a competent rider already).
"Come on...don't do this. I've been good, haven't I? Haven't I?" I whispered to the motorcycle while wondering if all the miles and speed I've put it through did it any harm.
Fortunately, the motorcycle did not hold grudge. He brought me to the workshop, safe and sound. I made a promise to myself that I will wash him someday. To pay back all the good miles and speed.
"Bawak motor molek-molek."
I smiled, waved back, said Bismillah in my heart and began my ride to the PSM. I was late.
By 11.00am, I arrived. Many were waiting for their turn, most of them were students for tomorrow's JPJ test. AC was one of them. Since I'm a newbie (and a late one), Pok Jat called me the last. Around 1.00pm was when he finally resorted to me. I bet I was one of his worst student in history. But I have never hurt any of the 'tiang', so he should consider himself (and me) lucky.
"Awak bawok je keta. Saya nak bawok Siti ni gi Cherating dulu ke...hahaha," he said. I frowned but he was confident to leave me doing the parking and the '3 penjuru' alone, so I walked to the car feeling "Why shouldn't I feel confident?"
So I did it. I did the parking and 3 penjuru stuff four times, although I was sure my side mirror hit a 'tiang' once. All in all, I think I wasn't bad. But I don't think any JPJ guy will give me a passing grade.
Then I was tired. I parked the PSM car under a 'kelapa' tree and I called Pok Jat. I told him I was done.
"Doh awak gi ah minum air dulu."
"Ke pok nok suruh saya 'naik bukit' (one of the driving requirements) dulu?"
"Dok lari eh bukit tu. Balik ah dulu. Hari Khamis pulok."
So I grabbed my bag and off I go with AC riding with me.
I drop by AC's house to drop AC (obviously) and to take first look at her infamous new DSLR. It was a nice piece of machine and I kept encouraging her to take photography but she had her mind made up for architecture.
"Bawak molek," she said as I was leaving.
From her house, I had to do a U-turn at the first legal opportunity (haha)to make my way home. I turned left at the junction before the biggest traffic light in Kemaman (4 junctions, traffic light with numbers???) into the road alongside the Padang Astaka. That was where the highlight of today's short story happened.
Just when I was in the junction, the back tire of the motorcycle was going to the sides. It felt funny and unstable because the front tire was straight. This is not good for fast rider like me. So I stopped and called Ayah.
"Tunggu situ. Ayah gi."
Then I waited. My father came in a Myvi (like my own personal hero) and brought a foot pump. He pumped the back tire and asked me to ride to the nearest workshop. He'll drive alongside me.
The ride, though short and slow, I would say one of the most dangerous ride I've ever been on. And I have been riding a motorcycle since I was 8! (I've always been tall. Go figures.) That's a decade worth of riding.
The motorcycle was going to the right and to the left like an untamed horse. But I kept on a steady face. I'm an experienced rider, am I not? (don't judge the L on the motorcycle. I should be a competent rider already).
"Come on...don't do this. I've been good, haven't I? Haven't I?" I whispered to the motorcycle while wondering if all the miles and speed I've put it through did it any harm.
Fortunately, the motorcycle did not hold grudge. He brought me to the workshop, safe and sound. I made a promise to myself that I will wash him someday. To pay back all the good miles and speed.
Friday, March 12, 2010
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Mencari Asou Haruto
Bukan pada wajah yang sering senyum. Manis pada mata, pahit di hati kau telan sendiri. Bukan pada lincah, tidak putus langkah. Hayunlah pergi. Pada kau mungkin seksa, padaku syurga dunia yang sukar dijelaskan oleh kata-kata.
Bukan pada bicara yang terasa memenuhi dunia. Aku tak perlu kemewahan seperti itu, cukuplah dengan ada.
Sukarnya menjelaskan cinta. Waktu punya segala, tidak ternampakkan. Waktu serba tiada, jelas tidak tergugat rasa. Ada di sisi seperti matahari untuk bumi. Itukah yang dicari?
Gembira, berduka, ketawa, menangis, laju, perlahan, berlari, merangkak, menyanyi, berbisik...
Sendu bukan penawar, hatinya walang tetapi kesedihan menukar jiwa. Dia menyambung harapan pada sisa-sisa nafas yang ada. Kerana memandang gelas yang separuh penuh, tiada siapa mampu merampas itu.
Mencari cinta seperti Haruto. Ideal. Tidak perlulah kau kutuk klise atau apa sahaja yang buruk-buruk kerana dunia tanpa cinta terlalu menakutkan. Tidak sempurna tidak apa. Aku akan cukupkannya.
~kredit; Ichi Rittoru no Namida.
Bukan pada bicara yang terasa memenuhi dunia. Aku tak perlu kemewahan seperti itu, cukuplah dengan ada.
Sukarnya menjelaskan cinta. Waktu punya segala, tidak ternampakkan. Waktu serba tiada, jelas tidak tergugat rasa. Ada di sisi seperti matahari untuk bumi. Itukah yang dicari?
Gembira, berduka, ketawa, menangis, laju, perlahan, berlari, merangkak, menyanyi, berbisik...
Sendu bukan penawar, hatinya walang tetapi kesedihan menukar jiwa. Dia menyambung harapan pada sisa-sisa nafas yang ada. Kerana memandang gelas yang separuh penuh, tiada siapa mampu merampas itu.
Mencari cinta seperti Haruto. Ideal. Tidak perlulah kau kutuk klise atau apa sahaja yang buruk-buruk kerana dunia tanpa cinta terlalu menakutkan. Tidak sempurna tidak apa. Aku akan cukupkannya.
~kredit; Ichi Rittoru no Namida.
Saturday, January 9, 2010
"Everyone talks."
That above is a quote from Chuck season 2. I spent a considerably long time in front of the computer to watch this particular TV series and it was a delight. Well, for someone like me that is. Like I always say, (and somebody who had created this phrase); Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. So please, if you're a fan, do enjoy the series while you still can.
p/s: Currently on AXN (Astro 701) every Thursday at 10.00pm (or I usually catch it at 1.00am on Friday)~not that I'm trying to do some cheap promote or anything.
p/s: Currently on AXN (Astro 701) every Thursday at 10.00pm (or I usually catch it at 1.00am on Friday)~not that I'm trying to do some cheap promote or anything.
Monday, January 4, 2010
A day at a time.
Despite the fact that my latest post was just two days ago, here I am, all pepped-up to write a new one. Fauzal, this is for you.
How did I met this guy? Let's see... We were already starting standard 3 at the time but he came in late. My first, pure and innocent thought about the guy.
"He sure is short for a nine-year-old."
I remember vaguely, despite the attention everyone was giving him when the teacher introduced him as the new kid, he stood tall and confidently delivered a small introduction speech. Small for him perhaps but for the rest of us, it was big because I doubt any of us was able to do that at the time. His accent was interesting too and when he mentioned where he came from, the curiosity was answered.
I remembered, shortly after his intro, I sent him a piece of paper with a question;
"Nama awak Fawzal?" (Your name is Fawzal?)
He sent the paper back with a cross on his name that I wrote and wrote down a new one; Fauzal. Then only the name doesn't strike me odd anymore.
That was how we met. How we became close friends is still a wonder to me. Perhaps it was the same thing that drew me and Aisyah together once up till today; English. It matters then, does it still now? I don't have the answer to that.
It has been an awfully long time since I last saw him. More than a year, give or take. But they say absence makes the heart grows fonder. True, very true. But true friendship can keep going strong no matter the distance that separates.
Now that I'm trying to write down my memories of him, I can't remember anything. I do have many fond memories of him but it's not write-able. I hope you'll take that as a compliment, hon;)
Today you're 18. I hate to sound very cliche but that's just what we do on someone's birthday. We wish him/her the best. So, best of luck on everything. May Allah bless you always. Happy birthday!
p/s: I still think Teluk Kalong has one of the best beaches in the whole wide world:p
How did I met this guy? Let's see... We were already starting standard 3 at the time but he came in late. My first, pure and innocent thought about the guy.
"He sure is short for a nine-year-old."
I remember vaguely, despite the attention everyone was giving him when the teacher introduced him as the new kid, he stood tall and confidently delivered a small introduction speech. Small for him perhaps but for the rest of us, it was big because I doubt any of us was able to do that at the time. His accent was interesting too and when he mentioned where he came from, the curiosity was answered.
I remembered, shortly after his intro, I sent him a piece of paper with a question;
"Nama awak Fawzal?" (Your name is Fawzal?)
He sent the paper back with a cross on his name that I wrote and wrote down a new one; Fauzal. Then only the name doesn't strike me odd anymore.
That was how we met. How we became close friends is still a wonder to me. Perhaps it was the same thing that drew me and Aisyah together once up till today; English. It matters then, does it still now? I don't have the answer to that.
It has been an awfully long time since I last saw him. More than a year, give or take. But they say absence makes the heart grows fonder. True, very true. But true friendship can keep going strong no matter the distance that separates.
Now that I'm trying to write down my memories of him, I can't remember anything. I do have many fond memories of him but it's not write-able. I hope you'll take that as a compliment, hon;)
Today you're 18. I hate to sound very cliche but that's just what we do on someone's birthday. We wish him/her the best. So, best of luck on everything. May Allah bless you always. Happy birthday!
p/s: I still think Teluk Kalong has one of the best beaches in the whole wide world:p
Saturday, January 2, 2010
Si Pelari Layang-layang
Hmmm... apa yang boleh aku katakan lagi? Sebuah cereka yang mengagumkan dan memukau lantas aku tidak akan berlaku adil (do it justice) jika aku cuba mengkelaskannya bersama novel-novel lain yang pernah aku baca. Aku suka sekali memberi 'rating' kepada perkara-perkara dalam jenis yang sama yang akan menentukan kedudukan mereka di hatiku. Lalu, sukar untuk aku membuat penilaian apabila muncul sesuatu yang 'outstanding' sedangkan mereka bertanding dengan golongan yang tidak setaraf. Seperti Tom Yum Kung di Secret Recipe. Berada di kelasnya yang tersendiri. Tidak dibenarkan bertanding kerana kesedapannya mencapai tahap yang berbeza, jika tidak lebih tinggi.
Begitulah halnya dengan buku dan aku tidak kejam untuk meletakkan mereka yang tidak setaraf untuk bersama berpeluh dengan golongan bawahan seperti Rose DeWitt Bukater yang menyanggupi itu demi seorang Jack Dawson. Walaupun ini tidaklah bermaksud aku menyokong sistem kasta. Namun dalam menilai, umpama membandingkan mawar hidup, mawar plastik dan mawar sabun. Eloklah dibandingkan cuma mawar plastik dan mawar sabun sahaja kerana mawar hidup teramat unggul.
The Kite Runner juga mengandungi persoalan perbezaan taraf manusia. Seperti mana Ali pernah menjadi orang gaji Baba, seperti itulah anak Ali, Hassan akan menjadi orang gaji kepada anak Baba, Amir. Namun, taraf mereka serasa-rasa lebih rendah daripada orang gaji. Seperti hamba sahaja layaknya. Amir sendiri mengakui dalam rasa hatinya yang paling sunyi, Hassan tidak terasa seperti sahabat. Dia tinggalkan Hassan apabila dia berteman, mencari kembali tatkala kesunyian. Dan Hassanlah yang sangat setia menunggu Amir, tanpa prasangka atau prejudis. Hassan tahu tempatnya di rumah besar Wazir Akbar Khan itu. Dia rendah diri dan hormat akan Amir sampai bila-bila. Hanya kerana dia lahir sebagai seorang Hazara.
Tidak mahu menjadi 'spoiler' kepada mereka yang belum membaca kisah cinta, penipuan dan tragedi ini dan kepada yang sudah membacanya, moga-moga dunia masih ada manusia seperti Hassan dan Amir. Terkejut? Amir tidak layak untuk penghargaan seperti itu? Tetapi dia masih manusia. Manusia tidak lari daripada membuat kesilapan.
Quote;
"For you, a thousand times over!"
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