Forget-Me-Not

Forget-Me-Not, originally uploaded by yusaini.usulludin.

Today at the door, a messenger
An annual visitor
A day in every year
13 May, is the reminder
1969 is the year
That black spot etched forever
If forgotten, will invite danger
Stop listening to rumours
Throw out those warmongers
Silence the racist tormentors
Who hungry for power
We, the people, let keep this house forever summer
We, together, decide our future
join hands together
Never surrender
this nationhood to those trouble-makers

Cherry Blossoms

Cherry Blossoms, originally uploaded by yusaini.usulludin.

Empty benches
Reluctant Sun half-hiding
behind unfriendly cottons of gray
On the ground, daisies
dotted the empty spaces
between seasoned chesnut trees
whites amongst greens
Once in a while a cold gust
swept in unannounced
brushing against diaphanous leaves
sent out a rustling sound
a soft sussuration
of an intimate conversations
between old companions

Enjoying the spring ..

Enjoying the spring .., originally uploaded by yusaini.usulludin.

The odd one out ..

The odd one out .., originally uploaded by yusaini.usulludin.

On the road to montreuil sur mer

Like a fast rolling film
changing from one frame to the next
a vista of the world in motion
playing out on a glass window
from inside a moving car
A pleasurable sketches to these tired eyes
of lands that I have never walked on
yet happy to pluck those images
and pickle them in my memory jar
cheering this soul from the humdrum
of peregrination


First to catch my sight ..
the sculptured trunks of cherry trees
in their half-dress of young spring leaves
half shedding the stubborn pink petals of yesterday blossoms
some still dancing playfully with the wind
some ended scattered on the grass
like confetti after a happy wedding

While on the ground ..
garnishing the green grasses
sprouting wildly here and there
in bunch or hermits in their own spaces
yellow dandelions and white daisies
such tiny beauties
such welcoming sight
to the place unfamiliar to me
but inviting all the same

And yonder ..
the vast continuous plain
of pastoral landscape
of endless fields
of changeable colours

Standing to attention ..
cohorts of rapeseeds
of thousand stalks
with yellow blooms

Against the blue skyline ..
carpets of furrowed fresh dark earth
turned upside down by a lone tractor
crawling sluggisly as if time is insignificant
under a charitable sun
and equally generous sky

[France]

I am not surprise to read such blatant racist remarks on popular media in Malaysia post PRU 13, especially from some Malay quarters. If before, that ugly sentiment is hidden, masqueraded as the accepted face of patriotism, this time the beast is out in the open. We know who they are, we can see their faces and we know their names. Their inabilities to appreciate the poisons they have spurted are worrying, as if racism is normal .. as if it is virtuous .. and should be an accepted mental state if you want to be a "true malay". After living abroad for more than 14 years I have seen the ugly faces of racism, I know what it means to live as a minority and how hurtful it can be when your right to exist is questioned. Those Malaysians that you hurled your venomous abuses at, they are Malaysians whether you like it or not. Together with you and your father, and your father's father, they have built this country to become what it is now .. they pay taxes .. they are born and bred and die on the same land that you are standing on. 56 years we have grown up together as a nation, 56 years of history of nation-building coloured not only by one race but three (and more), 56 years of pains and joys felt not by one one race but three (and more), and 56 years of shared experience. PRU 13 has chipped away a great chunk of that race barrier, it should be hailed as great milestone and should be celebrated .. don't let those racists ruin that momentum !

Smash those blinkers
There are bigger pictures to see
Try to look at the wood rather than the trees
Bleach those colours off your skins
One nation is one not three

In the belly of this city ..
Hurried faces matched by hasty steps hammering the ever-patient pavement;
Moving machines blaring boorishly buzzing like busy bees braving the summer heat,
crawling impatiently,
petulant and angry;
Isn't it a mystery?
Those minds behind these bustling bedlams
in the belly of this city ..

Beware of a mischievous lie
Its different hues and many skins ..
      It may tasted like the sweetest of honey that comes in a golden spoon;
      or: Sounded like a pious prayer inscribed on a precious stone

Home for travellers 

Is home where we were born and shed our first tears?
Or the bountiful land where we toil and sweat to earn our way to life?
Perhaps it is the affectionate sky under which we forge our first friendship ..
    .. or the cold dreary one where we made our first enemy;
Probably it is the bustling street where our loves first flower ..
    .. or the quiet melancholic park where they were ended;
But, after all is said and done
Home, is that forgiving patch of humble earth
     where we finally find peace and quietness ..