The Muruku Murmurations

This morning I realised that the most valuable gifts that I had received last year were not material things. A gift, a token or an offering, Given to a person free of charge, In return the giver expects nothing, It may be small or large. Do not be so taken by pretty things, Like shallow girls with expensive diamond rings, Where the measure of a good gift is by it's price, An excuse for materialism and consumerism to invade like lice. It may not only be physical, Many times, it's cost not gradable, Without an expiry, almost immortal, Like the gift of life which is most noble. It could be guidance to the lost, A stepping stone or direction we can endorse, Emotional support for the weak, A place of solitude and peace for those who seek. There really is nothing wrong with presents, But look beyond the ribbons and gift wrappers, The best gift could instead be someone's presence, Their time and effort as to keys to Mini Coopers. A voice, a ...

So this is based on a song from the the movie Dilwale called Daayre. Daayre actually means limitations or boundaries. Most of the time we let boundaries stop us from doing what we want.  Why do we let the ones we loves slip away? Daayre Why do we choose to give up and decide not to stay?   Daayre   Daayre,                                   The walls we build so the ones we love cannot get close, Even though they're the ones we love the most, We let the boundaries and limitations get in the way.   Daayre The thoughts we have inside our head, And the words we will never say,   So we choose to walk away instead.   Daayre,   When you're alive but not living, Because the limitations and boundaries are winning, And it keeps you from living life your way.       - JN 10.00am, 24/2/2016 (Wednesday) Home, Kelana Jaya

If there is one thing I have yet to figure out, it is how to stop loving someone completely. We wanted to be in each other's lives after breaking up, but I loved him when I knew I shouldn't. As time passed, I learnt to change my love him. This was written the day I let go the last bit of "relationship" love I had for him. We've both moved on and I still love him, but now, he's one of the greatest friends I have. :) If she says she loves you but you don’t love her, don’t tell her just yet. Let her sit in the silence with you, shuffling in the awkwardness, before she allows all that she feels for you to radiate from her skin and occupy the air around you. Let her try and justify why she loves you, though you both know that there’s no answer. Let her face light up as she remembers how the second freckle on your right cheek scrunched into a wrinkle on your face when you laughed while she told you about the time she fell into the drain in front of schoo...

For everyone who doesn't believe in poetry, and that the world doesn't need poets.  You say "we don't need poets". That poetry is the whining a poet does in stanzas & rhyme, That reading & reciting poetry is a waste of time, That's fine - thankfully for you we poets are kind, Even though with us all sorts of faults you find. "They're just a bunch of emotional people" you claim, "Look closely & you'll realize their problems are all the same", Always the same script with different character names, You think writing poetry is a toddler's game. "Look at these attention seeking people writing about their problems, Milking the fact that they've hit rock bottom, Then regurgitating them expecting people to snap & say 'YOU WERE AWESOME', Just so that they can feel like they have blossomed." "The world does not need poetry! It's all a bunch of crap! Poetry is garbage &...

This letter is dedicated to my Malay Language tuition teacher who taught me about living life. He is a retired staff of the Ministry of Education who travelled the world and taught many along the way. Dear Mr Wong, I hope this finds you well, It has been a long time, I can tell, Since I last spoke to you, Since I last bid adieu. A few months and decade went by, Centuries worth of drive-bys, I never understood my hesitance, Why I frequently avoid your audience. You were my weekly motivation, Kept me with mind-stirring conversation, Polish the sentences of my Malay essays, Made me articulate my ideas without going astray. I owe you my endless gratitude, For humbling me in my altitude, Correcting my narrow minded attitude, As well as increasing my aptitude. Forgive me for not coming to see you sooner, For not thanking you when it mattered, You are still jovial, kind and kindred, I wish you well and may you reach one hundred. Sincerely, A Gr...

I've always been bad at keeping in touch or even starting conversations. So, to the people I don't talk to as much as I like to, this one is for you. If you're reading this and are friends with me, You know how difficult that can be, If you've only met me a couple of times, I promise you I'm not quiet all the time. So this is for all of you, The ones I don't talk to as often as I'd like to,             It's not that I don't like talking to you, It's just that I don't know how to. I've always been bad at conversations starters, My mind either goes blank or I stutter, I also am bad at keeping the conversation going, And that's always been a curse not a blessing. So this one is for all of you, I'm working on this curse of mine, I'd like to say I'm sorry too, And I hope we can catch up sometime.       - JN 9.00am, 22/2/2016 (Tuesday) Home, Kelana Jaya

#TheGhettoSiblings used to be really close. I forgot how close until Facebook's On This Day flashbacks kept showing me all these wall posts my brother Rosal used to post on my wall. Between his auditing job & my production managing, we barely spend time with each other let alone speak, but whenever we do meet, it's great & I'll always love him for getting me through so many things in the past 6 years. So here's another letter to the best Abang ever.  I’ve recently seen how often we used to speak, You and me, How time was relative and I was so meek, How we used to be. I read old wall posts, When you first became my brother, How you’d ask me why I was sad, And how I was never a bother. It feels like a different lifetime, We were so closely knit, There were no large obligations, And no small fits. Now your Facebook presence is scarce, And my phone no longer rings that specific tone, Our relationship now compared to then is such a farce, We mig...