After the Rain, A Thousand Tomorrows

1 May 2025 Hari ini cuti umum. Bangun lewat, bermalasan seperti biasa bila tiada apa mendesak. Tapi akhirnya gagahkan diri untuk keluar—ambil baju kat dobi, dan hantar baju lain pula untuk dibersihkan. Rutin kecil yang buat rasa masih bergerak, masih hidup. Life goes on kata orang. Mendongak lihat langit cerah, cuaca tenang, hati tergerak—terus pusing stering ke arah satu tempat yang paling menenangkan hati for me: kubur Sayang. Sepanjang jalan, air mata mengalir tanpa disuruh. Tak perlu sebab. Fikirkan Sayang pun dah cukup untuk pecahkan empangan rindu. Orang kata, bila cinta itu dalam, rindu itu akan sakit. Mungkin betul. Tiada perkataan lain—cuma cinta. Cinta yang tak pernah habis. Pokok kat kubur Sayang nampak kering sikit hari ni. Hati tertanya, terlalu panas ke? Atau dah terlebih air masa hujan? Entah. Kemudian duduk, dan macam biasa, mula bercerita dalam hati. Bercerita sampai airmata tu mengalir macam sungai. Rindu tu membuak. Sayang, awak okay ke kat sana? Saya yakin awak tena...

Now let's talk about gender issue lak Baru-baru ni, ada satu pendapat di laman Twitter (sorry i still call its Twitter): "Saya bagi gaji lelaki lebih sebab bila lelaki dapat duit, itu bukan duit dia. Itu duit mak ayah, isteri, anak-anak, adik-adik, hutang, zakat… Rezeki tu datang sekali dengan amanah." At first glance, bunyinya mulia. Nampak macam prihatin. Tapi bila kita cermatkan sikit, ada satu persoalan besar: Sejak bila gaji ditentukan berdasarkan jantina dan andaian tanggungan, bukan kerja sebenar? 1. Niat Tak Sama Dengan Keadilan Yes, lelaki ada amanah. Tapi adakah wanita tak ada? Ramai wanita hari ini: Menanggung mak ayah di kampung Bayar hutang belajar dan sewa rumah Jadi ibu tunggal Jadi tulang belakang keluarga Bekerja dua tiga kerja untuk tampung hidup Kita tak boleh assume lelaki je yang ada “tanggungan”. Realitinya — semua orang ada beban hidup masing-masing. Dan gaji tak sepatutnya ikut beban, tapi ikut tanggungjawab kerja dan pres...

Tonight, as the rain taps gently on my window, I stumbled upon a song that stopped me in my tracks. Dengarlah Bintang Hatiku from Demeises Indonesian Band The moment the lyrics played, I knew—this was the song. The one that put into words everything my heart still whispers to him. > “Dengarlah bintang hatiku, aku akan menjagamu Dalam hidup dan matiku, hanya kaulah yang ku tuju…” It’s more than just a melody. It’s my promise. My vow. The quiet echo of everything I still feel. I’ve loved him through every storm, every smile, every heartbreak—and I still do. This song reminds me that even though his body is gone, my love, my loyalty, my memories... they're all still here. Solid. Unshaken. > “Aku akan menjagamu semampu dan sebisaku Walau ku tahu ragamu tak utuh Ku terima kekuranganmu dan ku tak akan mengeluh…” We didn’t have perfect days, but we had real love. And in every way that matters, that was more than enough. I don’t know how long this grief will stay. Some days I walk wi...

Dear Sayang,  I had a small chat with Mak today. It started like any normal conversation — light, simple. She mentioned her knee was hurting. And then, out of nowhere, she said, " Maybe I’m nearing my time. " I laughed. I smiled — not the bright, full smile you used to love, but the half-smile I've been working so hard to find again since you left. But inside, love... inside, I broke a little. Inside, my heart whispered, "Please, not yet. I’m not ready to lose her too. I can barely stand losing you." I know the time will come. I know how life works — how fragile everything is. You taught me to accept that, even when we hated it. But not now. Please, not now. I just started breathing properly again. I just started believing that maybe — just maybe — it’s okay to smile, to laugh, to feel a little bit alive without you standing next to me. I don’t think I could bear another goodbye yet. Not while I’m still piecing myself back together, one ...

Sayangku, Pejam celik, it’s been six months. Six months since I last kissed your forehead. Since I held your hand. Since I whispered goodnight and heard you whisper back. I still wear your shirt every day—just to feel like you’re still here. I imagine you beside me, like always. Our room upstairs, I visit it once a month. I walk in, close my eyes, and I swear... you're still in the air. Your scent, your warmth, your quiet strength—it never really left. Today, I went to the restaurant. Remember how I once came home crying, burying my face in your lap? You didn’t say much—just held me, like a wall I could lean on. You always knew when silence said more than words. You supported me when I decided to leave, never once questioning if I was doing the right thing. You just trusted me. Believed in me. The place isn’t doing well, Sayang. Not because of MCO or things out of our control. No. It’s because of one man’s decision—you know who. And that makes it worse, somehow. I’m sad. I’m angry....

I want to rant a bit, may I? Ok here we go Let’s get one thing straight: when I shared about my late husband giving me 30% of his income, it wasn’t an invitation for anyone to turn our story into a benchmarking session. It wasn’t a challenge, a flex, or a measurement tool. It was love. Period. My husband had debts. He had commitments. But he still chose to give me a portion of his income—not because I demanded it, but because he wanted to. He paid the bills, shared utilities, gave to his mother, and still found a way to support me. That’s the kind of man he was. Yet somehow, when I share that, some people feel compelled to dissect it like a financial case study. "Gaji RM3.8k, cuma mampu beri RM500... tak cukup untuk masa depan." Oh? Then maybe you should have that conversation with your future spouse. I'm not the auditor in your engagement. I don’t know your partner’s commitments. I don’t know their debts. I don’t know what they’re juggling or sacrificing. And frankly? It...

Introduction: We all have those moments in life when you just want to avoid the crowd, find the path of least resistance, and get from point A to point B without any drama. But then— staircase . And that's when you know: it’s on. Welcome to my daily revenge arc against stairs, where every step feels like a small rebellion against my very own limitations. Spoiler: it involves a v stepper, some questionable life decisions, and the kind of persistence that only comes with frustration—and maybe, just a little bit of stubbornness. The Stairs Incident: The adventure began quietly enough—on level 10. Elevator, my old friend? Nope, not today. I wasn’t about to get stuck in the lunch hour line with everyone else. I was too important for that. So, I decided to do what any impatient person would do: I took the stairs. Slowly. Very slowly. It wasn’t so much a power move as it was a test of patience and willpower. My friend had suggested it, and part of me knew that, hey, I needed to get ...

I work as a finance logistics officer in my organization. Well sometimes I get a question what exactly I do? So, you’re wondering what exactly I do, working between Finance and Logistics? Well, I’m basically the glue, the translator, and sometimes, the peacekeeper. I make sure that the logistics team’s hustle is understood by Finance—and that Finance’s detailed paperwork doesn’t slow down logistics. I’m the bridge, the negotiator, and the calm in the storm. Here’s what I actually do—without all the fanfare (spoiler alert I tend to praise myself here..just deal with it ok) 1. I’m the Human Spreadsheet in Motion . I juggle both worlds like a circus performer, keeping track of every shipment, every delivery, every budget allocation. When Logistics is sending stuff out, I’m there making sure the financial side of it is documented. If someone buys a truckload of supplies last-minute, I make sure it’s coded correctly in the budget. I’m the one who translates a delivery order into dollars—and...

Hi Sayang ku, It's been a while since our last inner talk. My brother just got discharged from the hospital. It’s been a journey—one I never imagined walking without you. Taking care of him has been overwhelming at times, but it’s also opened something in me. It made me realize how much I need to take care of myself, too. For him. For Mom. For the people still here... and for the part of me that still belongs to us. Looking at my brother—seeing his fight, his recovery—it pulls something in me. I miss you in those moments more than I can say. But I know you’re smiling, somewhere close. I can feel it. I want you to know: I’ll be happy. Not just for me, but for us. You always wanted that, didn’t you? For me to keep going. For me to live. So I will. Step by step. One breath at a time. With your love stitched into everything I do. With love, always.

Seriously, it's like the world has hit shuffle on the crisis playlist, and every track is a banger. War? Check, and it still ongoing! Earthquakes? Got 'em. Trade wars? Yep, we're doing that now too. It’s like we're all stuck in this giant game of “Who Wants to Be an International Crisis?” and no one signed up for it. But hey, even though we’re just the small people, we don’t have to sit back and watch it all implode. Sure, we can’t control global politics, but we sure as heck can control our own lives—at least a little bit. Here’s how we can survive the madness and maybe even come out looking like we’ve got it together: 1. Focus on What You Can Control You can't stop a trade war, but you can stop yourself from buying the 12th snack pack of chips today. Focus on your own health. Eat well, move your body ( no, getting up to change the TV channel doesn’t count ), and just make sure you're not the one going down in flames when the world is on fire. 2. Get Your Money...

Dear   Sayang, I had to go to the self-service laundry yesterday. You know, the one we usually avoid because it’s always so crowded? I tried to handle it on my own, but the weight of the bakul was heavier than usual. I could feel you in every step, like I was supposed to be doing this with you, just like we always did. You would’ve gone early, found the quiet, and I would’ve taken my sweet time, just like I always do. But without you there, it felt so much harder. I hate folding clothes without you. I just wish you were here, making it feel less like a chore and more like a shared moment. And then, Sayang, there’s my brother. He’s been in the hospital since last Thursday. I’m really worried. It feels like everything is off right now. I even thought about riding a motorcycle to work to clear my head, but Mom’s against it. I don’t want to make her worry, but I just need some space. I miss the way you’d always reassure me, tell me it would be okay. But now, it’s just me, figuring t...

Dear Sayang, We had an emergency today—Angah was sick. His breathing was short, and he was sweating like crazy. I went in the ambulance with him, and in that moment, I thought of you. Waiting in the Emergency Department at HKL, I was reminded of last August 2024 when I brought you here. Then, as I passed by the oncology ward and saw the Neuro building, I broke down in tears. I miss you, Sayang. I thought I was strong enough. But the truth is, I’m still fragile when it comes to you. When Angah fell sick, my mind immediately brought me back to those moments with you—how I used to bring you to the hospital, how we went through everything together. Every corner of that place is filled with memories of us. My steps felt heavy, my chest tightened, and the tears wouldn’t stop. Sayang, I miss you. I miss everything about you. I miss your hand in mine, your smile that always made me feel safe, your voice that calmed me even in the hardest times. I thought I had built enough strength, enough res...