The Graceful Fall

Plymouth Bus, 11.55pm

Edited: 1.57am House 24

As the bus slowly moving in the dark of night on a light rain, I whipped out my trusty companion, ol'Tabby and started writing. Topic? Well, ain't got a damn clue. But I feel like I've to write something. Here goes nothing!

1) The Wish

I dedicated this entry to my friends who  had already reached Malaysia. I'm sorry for the years I had been such a brat, 'kutuk' org sana sini, and as I saw my reflection on the bus side mirror, looking fatigued and blank as the silence of people creeps in the bus, creating a shadowy atmosphere even worse than death. I had a recap of what happened during my stay in London.

1a) The Gauge

What a nightmare to look at the face of crying people at the airport. Either friends or not, it was a tragic moment especially looking at them who were just suppose to be sending-off. But God knows better. They are making the best efforts to ensure everyone can fly. I couldn't think of anything better to say thank you, to all the juniors, and God knows how it would feel if not for them, we'll be hungry, we'll be deserted, we'll be handicapped, because MARJON is not complete without both MARJON 1 and MARJON 2, and all it's people.

1b) The Small World

It's a small world after all. Never have I met a family that so random, yet so close to our house in Sungai Petani. Thanks for accomodating us! A lovely, warming, accepting family. Mama, miss you now :`(

2) The Stop

Crying is like a disease. You started by getting 'symptoms ', than it attacks your 'immunity' and when you're at the 'weakest', it takes over you and your body 'responds'. If we see cryingi, in my case, it happened when I were asleep in the Tube. I could not for the life of me, even slightest remember what I dreamt about, but it was very dark. I started pondering. Is that how I see things? As an imaginary blank space that's waiting to be filled? Like a void that needs closure before it gets bigger?

As I ponders about the questions and walking towards the Victoria Station, I knew something's wrong.

MY HEART is already filled with tears. My body don't. 

As I looked down at the floor panels and ignoring the voices around me in the hustle of UK's most busiest transports terminal, instants flashbacks and memry kicked in. Events. Faces. Scenery. Jokes. 

But I keep resisting. I'm strong.

And that's when my arrogance was put in its place.

From a conversation between two ladies  that is anonymous and so random, but her words, cut through this layer of ignorance of my own feelings effortlessly.

SHE: Would you be my 'guardian angel' and guard my bags for me. We just have to operate on the basis of trust, m'afraid.

The old lady said: Sure m'darlin' No problem.

I kept my cool.

I had to, I'm a man.

They'll be back.

They will.

Friends do that, don't they?

...

...

I promised them I will meet them again.

...

That's when I realised I screwed up. I kept saying insyaAllah, we'll meet again. And again.

...

To everyone.

But.

How? How could I? It's a daunting task, and I could not be bothered by then, but now. Only now.

I clasped my face with my hands.

Warm. 

A drop of tear.

OK.. weird.

And another.

It was so soothing. I laughed and tried my best to say I can't,

but my heart said 'Let it be'

Why heart?

Heart: ' One day you'll SURELY meet them again'

Thanks Heart.

I wiped my tears. I let out a short laugh.

All was said and done. Thanks.