tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-74209858878719305302024-02-07T13:32:28.724-08:00Talking With An Alternate YouMuhammad Edwan Shaharirhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15601174540942533511noreply@blogger.comBlogger72125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7420985887871930530.post-70763787204153790852009-03-28T08:05:00.000-07:002009-04-09T09:34:04.153-07:00Retrospect Talking With An Alternate You<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size:100%;">------------<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;">Hello.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">'Talking With An Alternate You' </span>is about.. well, love. And just like love, it's <span style="font-style: italic;">flawed.</span> But I hope it's in these imperfections that you'd find space in your heart to read and like the stories. Just like you'd accept somebody you love through their imperfections.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;">As of now the Seasons have ended; so here's a hub to get to all episodes. Hope it's useful to newcomers. Episodes are listed in order; just click on the titles.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;">- Muhammad Edwan Shaharir<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;">------------<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;">Talking With An Alternate You I:<br /></span></div><ol style="text-align: justify;"><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2007/11/prequel_04.html">A Prequel</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2007/11/beach_2752.html">Beach</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2007/11/breakfast_04.html">Breakfast</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2007/11/different-seasons.html">Different Seasons</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2007/11/cookie-crumbs.html">Cookie Crumbs</a><br /></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2007/11/sugary-dinner.html">A Sugary Dinner</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2007/11/heartbeat.html">Heartbeat</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2007/11/ice-cream.html">Ice Cream</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2007/11/refrigerator-note.html">A Refrigerator Note</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2007/11/after-prequel-before-beach.html">After A Prequel, Before Beach</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2007/11/in-diary.html">In A Diary</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2007/11/one.html">One</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2007/11/two.html">Two</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2007/11/three_9709.html">Three</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2007/11/four.html">Four</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2007/11/talking-with-alternate-you.html">Five - Talking With An Alternate You</a></span></li></ol><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Songs: 'Beautiful Love' - The Afters, 'LoveSong' - 311<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;">---------------<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;">Talking With An Alternate You II:<br /></span></div><ol style="text-align: justify;"><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2007/12/sugar.html">Sugar</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2007/12/sugar-goes-online.html">Sugar Goes Online</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2007/12/over-chocolate-cake-with-tingles.html">Over Chocolate Cake</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2007/12/sugar-wiseguy-of-one-mind.html">Of One Mind</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2007/12/getting-closer-maybe_27.html">Getting Closer, Maybe</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2008/01/suddenly.html">Suddenly</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2008/01/unexpectances-deja-vu-and-something.html">Something Rediscovered</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2008/03/what-now.html">What Now...</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2008/03/of-this-moment.html">... Of This Moment?</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2008/03/after-that-spoon-fell-on-floor.html">After The Spoon Fell</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2008/03/and-then.html">And Then...</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2008/04/so-there-it-is.html">So There It Is</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2008/04/interludes-to-prelude-to-goodbye.html">Interlude To The Prelude To A Goodbye</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2008/04/interludes-to-prelude-to-goodbye-teka.html">Interludes: Teka-Teki</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2008/04/interludes-to-prelude-to-goodbye_13.html">Interludes: Speaking Of Song</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2008/04/interludes-to-prelude-to-goodbye-oh-hum.html">Interludes: Oh Hum..</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2008/04/last-interlude-to-then-prelude-to.html">The Last Interlude To A Prelude To A Goodbye</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2008/04/prelude-to-goodbye.html">The Prelude To A Goodbye</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2008/05/goodbye.html">A Goodbye</a></span></li></ol><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Songs: 'That's When I Love You' - Aslyn, 'Hey There Delilah' - Plain White Tees<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;">--------------------<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;">Talking With An Alternate You III:<br /></span></div><ol style="text-align: justify;"><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2008/06/teaser.html">Teaser</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2008/06/one.html">One</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2008/07/two.html">Two</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2008/07/three.html">Three</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2008/07/four.html">Four</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2008/08/five.html">Five</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2008/08/six.html">Six</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2008/08/seven.html">Seven</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2008/08/eight.html">Eight</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2008/08/nine.html">Nine</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2008/08/and-ten.html">... And Ten</a></span></li></ol><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Songs: 'Written In The Stars' - Elton John & LeAnn Rimes, 'Unchained Melody' - Righteous Brothers<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;">---------------<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;">Talking With An Alternate You IV:<br /></span></div><ol style="text-align: justify;"><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2008/12/four-years-later.html">Four Years Later</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2008/12/at-julizas-wedding.html">At Juliza's Wedding</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2009/01/we-talked-by-window.html">We Talked By The Window</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2009/01/afterwards-we-went-for-coffee.html">Afterwards We Went For Coffee</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2009/01/evie-nadia.html">Evie Nadia I</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2009/01/muhammad-rafar.html">Muhammad Rafar I</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2009/01/evie-and-adam-then.html">Evie And Adam, Then</a><br /></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2009/01/evie-nadia-takes-off-her-wedding-ring.html">She Felt Stronger</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2009/02/muhammad-rafar-ii.html">Muhammad Rafar II</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2009/02/memory-of-dream.html">The Memory Of A Dream</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2009/02/beach.html">The Beach</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2009/02/surprise.html">Surprise</a></span></li><li style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2009/02/over-coffeebriefly-at-klcc.html">Over Coffee and Briefly At KLCC</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2009/02/evie-rafar-adam.html">Evie. Rafar. Adam.</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2009/02/evie-nadia-ii-these-photographs-note-in.html">Evie Nadia II: These Photographs and A Note In The Dark</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2009/03/man-she-loves-most.html">The Man She Loves The Most</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2009/03/it-is-time.html">It Is Time...</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2009/03/here-in-this-perfect-dark.html">Here In This Perfect Dark</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2009/03/evie-nadia-iii-there-will-be-no-regret.html">Evie Nadia III: There Will Be No Regret</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2009/03/just-two-of-us-you-and-i.html">Just The Two Of Us, You And I</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2009/03/here-at-end-of-all-things.html">Here, At The End Of All Things</a></span></li></ol><span style="font-size:100%;">Songs: 'Thanatos - If I Can't Be Yours' - Eminence Orchestra, 'Unchained Melody', 'LoveSong' - 311<br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size:100%;">------------------------<br /><br /></span><span style="font-size:100%;">Special Episodes and Miscellany:<br /></span></div><ol style="text-align: justify;"><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2008/10/selamat-hari-raya-maaf-zahir-batin.html">Selamat Hari Raya, Maaf Zahir Batin 2008</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2009/02/valentines-day.html">Valentine's Day 2009</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://edwan.blogspot.com/2009/01/evie-nadia-sketches.html">Evie Nadia Sketches</a></span></li><li><span style="font-size:100%;"><a href="http://edwan.blogspot.com/2007/11/rough-sketches.html">Rough Sketches</a></span></li></ol><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size:100%;">-----------------------<br /><br /><br /><br /></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7420985887871930530.post-68900335190992344752009-03-20T00:00:00.000-07:002013-07-25T11:08:35.478-07:00Here, At The End Of All Things<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzGd0tcITASrHvOwVAgv3hYoRB0XuDKA2brvEWvafbQnkmPdpV4Q2upf6SaZQxw-2Y9nzVybh8k7ae-l1N2fMYXYC63tCtDUTxa1b8Fw3fSzCmWCjABJszOHWkkAYWJ56z7gdDHaeLa-c/s1600-h/collage44.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314926170255617554" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzGd0tcITASrHvOwVAgv3hYoRB0XuDKA2brvEWvafbQnkmPdpV4Q2upf6SaZQxw-2Y9nzVybh8k7ae-l1N2fMYXYC63tCtDUTxa1b8Fw3fSzCmWCjABJszOHWkkAYWJ56z7gdDHaeLa-c/s400/collage44.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 209px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 312px;" /></a><span style="font-size: 85%; font-style: italic;"><br />A Foreword From Muhammad Edwan:</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 85%;">Hello.</span><span style="font-size: 85%;"> This finale is in the form of a</span><span style="font-size: 85%; font-weight: bold;"> </span><span style="font-size: 85%;">podcast</span><span style="font-size: 85%; font-weight: bold;">. </span><span style="font-size: 85%;">It's about </span><span style="font-size: 85%;">10 minutes long</span><span style="font-size: 85%;">. Please </span><span style="font-size: 85%;">load completely before listening </span><span style="font-size: 85%; font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-size: 78%;">(depending on your connection, this might take awhile)</span></span><span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="font-size: 78%;"> </span>to avoid pauses. </span><span style="font-size: 85%;">S</span><span style="font-size: 85%;">tick around to the end. The video has some 'extras', but there's also an audio only podcast provided.</span><span style="font-style: italic;"> </span><span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br />I do apologize for the voice/audio quality of the file; it is compressed, and I'm not the best AV editor. You may want to turn up the volume a little to catch all of it.</span></span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-size: 85%;">O</span><span style="font-size: 85%;">ne last request</span><span style="font-size: 85%;">: to <span style="font-size: 100%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">everyone</span></span> who listened or is going to listen to the following final episode:</span><span style="font-size: 85%; font-weight: bold;">Please leave a parting word</span><span style="font-size: 85%; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">;</span><span style="font-size: 85%;"> feedback, a goodbye, a rant, a rave; tell me your favorite episode, and least favorite episode or season; whatever you please. In turn I will see to it that I thank each and everyone of you personally<span style="font-size: 78%;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: 78%;">(even if in comment form ke ape :P).</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">p/s:</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">email me for inquiries</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cc0000; font-weight: bold;">Talking With An Alternate You</span> <span style="color: #cc0000; font-weight: bold;">2007 - 2009</span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7420985887871930530.post-13923505958596861972009-03-17T03:25:00.000-07:002009-03-29T11:54:15.765-07:00Just The Two Of Us, You And I<div style="text-align: center;"><br />------------------<br /><blockquote><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:78%;" >hello.<br />this is a rather long episode, but please, do take time to read it.<br />we're almost there. stick around.<br /><br />leave feedback; thanks!<br /><br />:)<br /><br />- Edwan</span></blockquote><br />------------------<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA5GhcQ-XBr_INeF1_gXXn2PNJDP40-KfMmhmdnSXLK6fHUeLEjYHrNs1yi_2Xl6U_Sh5W6Pm6Z_GF7uYV9qCmxhiumbt4AShuxTwBnFICH25RmzXu8HiO1RYo-b64lnQDt-5B7v3KAQI/s1600-h/hands.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 340px; height: 218px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA5GhcQ-XBr_INeF1_gXXn2PNJDP40-KfMmhmdnSXLK6fHUeLEjYHrNs1yi_2Xl6U_Sh5W6Pm6Z_GF7uYV9qCmxhiumbt4AShuxTwBnFICH25RmzXu8HiO1RYo-b64lnQDt-5B7v3KAQI/s400/hands.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312494539241724914" border="0" /></a><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:78%;" >(picture from TWAAY S1)</span><br /></div><span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><u>Part One</u></span></span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><u>Friday</u></span><br /><br /><u>Evie Nadia</u><br />When I came in to work this morning everyone seemed to note how I was smiling and cheerful again. It made me wonder: did I really seem ‘off’ lately? Maybe I had then, or certainly people wouldn’t have said how I was cheerful ‘again’. Alya, the receptionist, was the first to notice it when I walked through the office doors. She immediately asked me, “What happened?”<br /><br />Alya is the only person I’ve been confiding to about my recent, uhm, issues. I haven’t told her in too much detail, but she knows enough to understand and offer a shoulder to cry on. I do feel bad that I offloaded it to her, but she always confides in me about her relationship stuff too. This morning as I told her about what I was about to do, she almost squealed in delight. She noticed that I had a ring dangling from a leather string around my neck and asked to see it. Alya said it was lovely. She wished me luck and told me to tell her everything after all is said and done.<br /><br />I suppose I was feeling rather buoyant. It felt like I was walking on air, or maybe my heels grew wings on it, like the shoes worn by Hermes of Greek mythology. If this were a musical I’d probably break into song and tap dance my way all over Kuala Lumpur. Strange thing was, I actually did feel like singing. I’d sing Elton John’s ‘Can You Feel The Love Tonight’.<br /><br />But I better hold my horses! For all my raised spirits and moods, I still haven’t told <span style="font-style: italic;">him</span> yet. Eek! Half of me is still afraid, but it is also certain. The other half on the other hand is excited and eager, looking forward to telling him how I feel. In my mind I could already imagine how he would… wait! Let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves now. Talk first. Sappy romantic ending later.<br /><br />When work was over I asked Alya if she would accompany me on a little shopping trip; I offered to drive her back afterwards. The younger lady jumped at the opportunity, and we had fun trying on clothes and accessories. She kept teasing me like a schoolgirl.<br /><br />“What’s the occasion Kak Evie? Gotta date?” Alya said.<br /><br />“Maybe I do. Jealous much?” I said.<br /><br />“Ehehe. Maybe. Is it okay to say I’ve always thought he looked hot?”<br /><br />“No, it’s not okay! Hahaha.”<br /><br />After a couple of hours we called it a day. I bought a nice, short, merlot colored evening dress, a baby blue cardigan and a long, white, billowy skirt with light blue paisley embroidery. Alya bought herself two tops and a pair of jeans. I remembered during my college days that my best friend, Juliza, and I would go on similar shopping trips. Juliza is now happily married. I made a mental note that I should see her. Maybe after I tell Rafar? It’d be sort of nice I think.<br /><br />I dropped Alya off at her house in Taman Dato’ Keramat and went home. I tried on the clothes I bought again and felt satisfied, and I wondered if he would like it?<br /><br />It’s been a few days since I made my choice; and the only reason I haven’t told Rafar sooner was because… well, I wanted to make this special. It is a special moment for me, and I believe it’ll be special for him too. I don’t know if he’s still hoping for me to return to him; in fact he’s been quiet lately, although he does occasionally text me to let me know he’s doing alright. But even in expressionless text messages I sensed that he wanted to tell me more but wasn’t doing so. Probably because he thinks he shouldn’t be.<br /><br />But I will prove him wrong.<br /><br />Muhammad Rafar… eleven years ago I fell in love with him after what I thought was a strange set of circumstances. Who would dream of something so intricately detailed like he had? It was crazy at first. But something’s happened then I guess, and we made that dream come true, even if it was cut short. But now the time has come to pick up where we left off. I believe so.<br /><br />I kept glancing at the phone. I needed to call him and tell him that I wanted to see him and talk to him. I didn’t want to tell him over the telephone; that would be so impersonal! But I was also sort of nervous at the moment. To pass time while I decide on what to say to him before I call, I pulled out my secret notebook and began scribbling a few notes.<br /><br />As I jotted down those words in my (ugly) small handwriting, I think of how I got here now. I think it is a strange thing to realize that I should want what I had. Another cliché true then: that we only realize what we have until it’s gone. The difference is, I think, that not many of us get that chance to reclaim the things we had. I shall make the best of this opportunity. I shall build the rest of my life with this.<br /><br />Because I love him, I wrote down in the notebook. I think I’ve always had, even after the split, and I think no matter where life would have taken me if I chose not to be with him, I would love him regardless. Nobody has managed to sear his or her images and love inside my heart like he did. Like he still does. With him, my love went through several stages of different emotions: trust, belief, faith, anger, hurt, etcetera. But even after the things we went through, the fundamental belief in my heart has never changed. That is to say, I have loved him even through the hardest times of my life so far. And I will love him until the very end. I truly think he is meant for me, and I was meant for him, no matter the circumstances.<br /><br />I love him so much. I just can’t stress just how much; but it’s a lot. A lot. And my birthday is coming up soon; there’s only one perfect present that I would want.<br /><br />I was lying on my stomach, my feet in the air when I felt those stomach cramps again. This was getting annoying, and they hurt, but still Mrs. Red was nowhere in sight. I hoped this wouldn’t ruin what I was planning. Which reminds me: I need to call him! Enough procrastinating. I went outside to the living room and curled up on the sofa beside the telephone. I picked up the receiver, and after taking a deep breath (a thousand images of Rafar and I flashed in my mind within milliseconds) I dialed his number.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">RiiiiiiiiingRiiiiiiiiiiing. RiiiiiiiiiiiiiingRiiiiiiiiing.</span><br /><br /><br />----------------------<br /><br /><br /><u>Muhammad Rafar</u><br />I hate being stuck in traffic jams. They get on my nerves. I find that whenever I'm in the car, stuck on a road where the cars move at a snails pace, my temper seems to rise. Traffic jams are boilers to my angry bits. They seem to amplify all the little things that make me upset.<br /><br />Take, for instance, this middle aged, blonde haired, wrinkly, tanned woman in a BMW on my left, in the emergency lane, who’s trying to cut in front of me although clearly there’s no space. Maybe on a normal day, if I wasn’t in traffic, I’d have just ignored her and let her go her own way in her spiffy Bimmer. But today, along this here Jalan Tun Razak, I couldn’t stand it.<br /><br />She edged her car in front of mine; in response, I edged further up. Then she was so close to nicking my car, all because she thought it was a grand idea to take the emergency lane and cut in front of others who are enduring this cue; I rolled down my passenger side window and urged her to lower hers; when she did I said “Have patience you idiot, you’re not making this easier, Idiot,” while waving my fist. At first she glared at me, but then she cowered when I kept staring at her. She rolled up her window and let me go ahead.<br /><br />My point is, I was already feeling edgy and being stuck in this traffic jam was just… too… much. But serves me right I guess for choosing to leave Kuala Lumpur at half past five on a weekday. Sigh. I looked at the empty seat beside me.<br /><br />Some time ago Evie would have been sitting there. And if she was there, it wouldn’t be so bad, stuck in a jam, you know? Because then it’d just be an excuse to be alone with her for longer. She was also the yin to my yang; if she was here, I wouldn’t feel so pissed off. She neutralized every negative emotion I had. She’d make me feel nice with her words, or maybe by just holding my hand as we drove.<br /><br />God, I miss her so much. I wonder if she got the ring I dropped in her mailbox. I miss seeing that ring on her finger. I liked looking at it back then. Somehow it made things real. It said to me “Rafar, you’re a lucky guy. Look who’s wearing me on her finger”. But lucky men aren’t necessarily the smartest. We all know how that had ended. I don’t need to re-tell my pathetic story.<br /><br />Earlier today at the studio before closing down, my partner at work, Saladin, who is a videographer <span style="font-size:78%;">(that’s right; we run a complete imaging services company, so to speak: need pictures? Video? We’ll do it for you. Call zero one two, two six four, seven triple six)</span> asked me if I would join him and his wife for dinner. He said his wife could call one of her single friends and introduce me to her.<br /><br />“Sal, that’s very kind of you, but I couldn’t possibly,” I said.<br /><br />“Come on, man, you need to get out. You can’t work all the time,” Saladin said.<br /><br />“Why the sudden offer anyway?”<br /><br />“Well…”<br /><br />“Sal; do I really look that lonely and miserable?”<br /><br />“Honest answer? Yes. Even my wife said so. This was her idea.”<br /><br />“Ehehe. Well, tell her I appreciate it. But no thanks, I think I’ll… I’ll stay home and do some work.”<br /><br />Saladin had looked at me then put a hand on my shoulder. “Look, I get it: you miss your ex-wife. But you can’t mope around like this, you know? Come on, you don’t know if life has treats in store for you. Join Mimie and me for dinner. She’ll call her one of her single, hot friends.”<br /><br />“Sal, I,” I said. Saladin had this hopeful look in his eyes. In all honesty I was grateful for what he was attempting to do. “Look, seriously, thank you so much, to both you and Mimie. But… well, I don’t think I can. Not tonight anyway. I'm sorry.”<br /><br />He sighed. “Okay, fine, have it your way. But the offer stands. Alright? Just tell me, anytime buddy.”<br /><br />We parted; I presume he went for dinner with his lovely wife, Mimie. I envied him; why wasn’t I like him? He’s been married 5 years now to his wife. I don’t think he’ll ever screw it up. I, however, wasn’t sure where my life was headed. I just wanted Evie again. I want to hold her in my arms again and caress the silky skin of her face and kiss the tender flesh of her neck. But… I just can’t see right now how that would be possible again. I fear I’ve burned down the bridge, and now all that is left is a little plank that could break at any moment. The least I am hoping for is that she knows that I love her. Because I do. More than anything else in the world.<br /><br />After three quarters of an hour I finally managed to drag myself out of the slow crawl along Jalan Tun Razak and headed off to the highway, back home to Mutiara Damansara where I lived. The roads were still busy, but they were flowing smoothly and I made good time getting home, arriving just after the Maghrib call to prayer. When I reached home I prayed first; then I took a shower and made myself dinner. With the little appetite I had, it was just a packet of Maggi Tom Yum with the added benefit of an egg thrown in.<br /><br />The thought of sitting in front of a computer monitor doing work, like I said to Saladin, made me sick. There was nothing good on television either. Instead I grabbed my battered and dog-eared copy of The Lord Of The Rings and crashed on the sofa. I was feeling tired. I thought maybe I’d read a few pages and then go to bed.<br /><br />I’ve always liked the Lord Of The Rings. There is tale that is part of the saga that tells of a man named Beren and an elf-woman named Luthien. Despite their different lineage, their love for each other was so strong. Together they defeated monsters and endured many pains… but always their love prevailed. Indeed, their love was so strong and so pure, even Luthien’s father, who at first opposed to their coupling, softened his heart and took pity upon them. When Beren died a tragic death, Luthien went on alone, singing haunting songs until finally she left the world to join her love where it would be undying.<br /><br />I loved that little tale; it was all so simple a concept: man loves woman despite numerous setbacks, and in the end their love still conquers all. I guess I have a romanticized view of love; in my defense I believe there is no other view, especially when the world itself is such a cruel place. If I could believe that love is beautiful and that it could transcend everything, then I will. And I do.<br /><br />I know my love for Evie has endured. I do not know how long, and at times, like I’ve said before, my love for her feels like punishment for leaving her when there was nothing wrong with out relationship. Sometimes my heart, it aches, and sometimes it beats to a tune more alive than ever. As I read the book my thoughts are elsewhere. My thoughts were on my very own Luthien. I wonder where she was, what she was doing, would she ever come to love me again. I wonde—<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">RiiiiiiiiingRiiiiiiiiiiing. RiiiiiiiiiiiiingRiiiiiiiiiiiiiing</span>.<br /><br />Now who could be calling me tonight? I sighed as I answered the telephone.<br /><br /><br />----------------------------<br /><br /><u>Evie Nadia & Muhammad Rafar</u><br /><br />“Hello,” Rafar said into the phone.<br /><br />Evie closed her eyes; her heart was suddenly beating a bit too fast. “Rafar?” she said. In contrast, at the other end of the line, Rafar’s eyes widened and his heart almost stopped. “Evie?” he said.<br /><br />Evie took a deep breath. “Hi.”<br /><br />“Uh, hi, hi,” he answered.<br /><br />Silence.<br /><br />“Am I bothering you? Were you busy? Do you want me to call another time?” Evie said and she thought she was speaking a bit too quickly and excitedly.<br /><br />“Hey,” he said. “Hey, uhm, no, not at all. It’s fine, sure.”<br /><br />“Really?”<br /><br />“Yeah…”<br /><br />“Uhm… okay. What are you doing?”<br /><br />“Nothing. Just reading a book.”<br /><br />“Is it the Lord Of The Rings?”<br /><br />“Eheh. Yeah, it is. How’d you guess?”<br /><br />“You were always reading it, remember?”<br /><br />“I was? I was. Yeah, and you’d get angry because I’d be too engrossed with the book rather than with you, ehehe.”<br /><br />“Ehehe… yeah.”<br /><br />“…………”<br /><br />“Uhm, Rafar…?”<br /><br />“Yes, Su --, I mean, yeah?”<br /><br />Evie noticed how he had almost called her Sugar. That made her smile and feel warm all over. “Hey… are you busy tomorrow afternoon? Say around one o’clock?”<br /><br />Rafar checked the date. “Yeah, I'm free. What’s up?” He felt unsure talking to Evie. He was worried he’d let some words slip by; he almost called her Sugar.<br /><br />“Well, I was thinking…” Evie stammered a little and cleared her throat. “I was thinking if… uhm, you’d like to go for lunch? With me?”<br /><br />“Lunch? I… well, of course. Where at?”<br /><br />Evie thought quickly. “There’s this place called Saffron at Solaris Hartamas. Would that be alright?”<br /><br />“Sure, wherever you please.”<br /><br />“Great! I’ll see you there at one o’clock?”<br /><br />“Sure,” Rafar said. He detected that she was slightly excited. He wondered why, and secretly thought that Evie wanted to tell him that someone had proposed to her and she was going to marry the man. In a much to casual-implying-I'm-not-thinking-too-much voice, he asked her,<br /><br />“So anything big you want to talk about? You sound… well, you sound excited.”<br /><br />Evie bit her lip at the other end of the line. She suddenly felt bursting with energy; so much so that she was doing quite a good job of ignoring the stomach pains in her lower abdomen. Ow, she thought, but she didn’t want to let PMS ruin this. She wanted to shout out “<span style="font-style: italic;">Rafar, I love you</span>!” but thought it best to hold it in for now. Besides, she planned on holding him in her own arms when she says it.<br /><br />“Oh, it’s nothing,” she said, keeping the anticipation down. “I just thought, well, I just thought I wanted to see you, see how you are. How are you anyway? Eating okay? Sleeping well?”<br /><br />“Oh okay. I'm alright, I'm alright. Just had dinner. Maggi Tom Yum.”<br /><br />“My favorite!”<br /><br />“Eheh. Yes, indeed, I forgot about that. How are you? How’s work?”<br /><br />“I'm good. I think a little PMS-y, if you know what I mean. But great.”<br /><br />“That’s good to hear…”<br /><br />“Thanks…”<br /><br />Awkward silence. Finally Evie thought if she lingered on the phone she’d break and ruin her much anticipated moment. So she excused herself.<br /><br />“Well, thanks for the call Rafar,” she said.<br /><br />“Uhm, Evie, it was<span style="font-style: italic;"> you</span> that called me.”<br /><br />“Oh it was. Sorry. I'm a bit, uh, tired I guess. I’ll see you tomorrow?”<br /><br />“Eheh. Okay, go rest then. Yeah, tomorrow, one o’clock, Saffron at Solaris.”<br /><br />“Great.”<br /><br />Neither of them wanted to hang-up nor say goodbye. They just hovered over the line, not speaking. The tension was palpable and thick. Both of them felt like one of them needed to say something. It was Rafar who finally did:<br /><br />“Hey Evie… thanks.”<br /><br />“For what?” she said, puzzled.<br /><br />“Calling.”<br /><br />“It’s… You’re welcome… Well, I’ll let you go back to your elves and whatnot.”<br /><br />“Eheh. Okay… I’ll see you tomorrow.”<br /><br />“Sure… Uh, Rafar?”<br /><br />“Yes?”<br /><br />“Nothing. Good night Wiseguy,” Evie said and she hung up. Rafar held the receiver in front of him for a few minutes. Then he put it back down. “She called me Wiseguy.”<br /><br />-------------------------------<br /><br /><br /><u><span style="font-weight: bold;">Friday Night</span></u><br /><br /><u>Evie Nadia</u><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">It was so nice to hear his voice! </span>She thought. I<span style="font-style: italic;"> think he suspects something… I do hope he’s not thinking too much about it. But maybe that would make what I want to say to him tomorrow all the more meaningful.</span><br /><br />She couldn’t wait. She couldn’t wait to tell him that she loves him. She couldn’t wait to have him hold her again, and couldn’t wait to hold his hands and stare into his deep, shady eyes. <span style="font-style: italic;">I want to be with him again,</span> she thought.<span style="font-style: italic;"> I want to be with him because this time I know we’ll be happy. I want to have his babies. I want for us to have eternity together. I can’t wait.</span><br /><br />Evie thought about what to wear tomorrow. Should it be the new dress? Or maybe she should wear the new cardigan and the new skirt? That’d be much simpler. She remembered he liked it when she was wore simpler things. He once said it was because “nothing is as beautiful as the person wearing it” and that made her blush. God, how she misses those moments. But then:<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Ow. Ow. OWWW.</span><br /><br />Her stomach was hurting again. All while she was speaking on the phone with Rafar it was hurting. She managed to ignore it when she was speaking, but pain increased steadily. Senggugut? She thought. She made her way to the bedroom, walking slowly and clutching her stomach. She thought she might have some more painkillers in her handbag.<br /><br />This really hurts, she thought. <span style="font-style: italic;">Ow</span>. She had to stop and lean on one of the dining chairs; she bent down, hands pressed to her tummy; but when she pressed and let go, the pain spiked through her abdomen. Evie grimaced, her eyes closed; <span style="font-style: italic;">what was this? </span>She realized she was starting to sweat and she felt nauseous. Evie walked slowly to her bedroom and tried to look for her handbag; suddenly she vomited and collapsed to her knees. She began to cry out of the pain; it was spreading and it felt like fiery knives were stabbing her.<br /><br />Kneeling on the floor, Evie Nadia grabbed for her mobile phone; but the reach suddenly seemed too far. She gagged, and this somehow intensified the pain in her stomach. She finally managed to grab the phone, but found that she couldn’t even dial the numbers, so great was the pain. She fell on her side, hands on her stomach, as if trying to contain it. She cried, not comprehending what was happening. She couldn’t think, couldn’t even scream.<br /><br />She tried getting up again and attempt to call somebody, anybody. But as she barely got halfway up on her trembling elbows and dialed seemingly random numbers on her phone, Evie Nadia fainted.<br /><br /><br />-----------------------------<br /><br /><br /><u><span style="font-weight: bold;">>The Following Day, Saturday 12.55PM</span></u><br /><br /><u>Muhammad Rafar</u><br />He arrived five minutes early to the agreed time. Rafar dressed himself in a black long sleeve shirt and jeans, and a pair of loafers. He waited in the car for a few minutes before making his way to the restaurant. He thought Evie must have arrived as well; she was usually early on dates.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Dates</span>, he thought. <span style="font-style: italic;">Is this a date?</span><br /><br />He checked himself in the rear view mirror, adjusting his messy hair and wiping his face with a moist napkin. Satisfied that he didn’t look too shabby, he got out and made his way to the restaurant. He had texted Evie earlier, but she hasn’t replied. But that was alright. He was here already. All he had to do was wait.<br /><br />He arrived in front of the restaurant expecting to see her there, but she wasn’t. He had mentally prepared himself for this meeting; he told himself over and over again on the drive here to play it cool at whatever it is that she would talk about. At some point, he didn’t really care; he was massively happy just to be able to see her again. He had even practiced how to greet Evie upon seeing her. So he was slightly disappointed when he realized he had arrived first. That’s fine, she said one o’clock anyway, maybe she’d be a few minutes late, he said to himself.<br /><br />At eight minutes after one, Evie still hadn’t shown up. He asked one of the waitresses if there was a reservation under her name; the waitress said yes, there was, table for two at one o’clock. Rafar asked if the person who made the booking was here earlier but the waitress said no, I'm sorry, she hasn’t. Are you with her? Rafar had just replied thanks. He decided he was being edgy so he made himself wait. He tried calling but there was no answer. Okay, maybe she’s on her way. Must have been caught up or something.<br /><br />He tried calling again after fifteen minutes had passed. No answer, but he convinced himself not to think about it too much. Besides, it’s not like she’s going anywhere else. There was no need to be a chore to your self Rafar, he thought.<br /><br />At forty minutes past the hour, Evie was still nowhere to be seen. Rafar had begun calling her at roughly five-minute intervals. This was unlike her to be late or not answer the phone. He became a little bit worried. He still decided to wait, and that’s when it occurred to him to call her house. Still no answer, but that made him think that she was already out.<br /><br />It was two o’clock; Evie still wasn’t there. Rafar began to feel deflated. He sighed. He thought maybe he had been stood up. He didn’t know to feel angry or disappointed. But the urge to see her was too strong. He told himself he would wait. Five minutes. No, ten. Make it thirty. He kept calling both house and cell phone. Still no answer.<br /><br />At half past two Rafar thought he should just head home. But as a last resort, he decided to place a call to her parents: his ex-mother and father in law.<br /><br />“Hello, Mrs. Nadzrah?” he said as he identified the soft-spoken lady on the phone.<br /><br />“Hello, yes. Who is this?”<br /><br />“It’s me, Rafar.”<br /><br />“Ohh Rafar, Ya Allah, I'm sorry, I didn’t recognize you. It’s been so long.”<br /><br />Rafar felt pangs of guilt at that statement. “It’s okay Mrs. Nadzrah –“<br /><br />“Oh, just call me Ibu, it’s alright.”<br /><br />“Okay, uhm, Ibu, I just would like to ask, is Evie over at your house?”<br /><br />“Evie? No, she’s not. Why?”<br /><br />“Well… she asked me to see her today, but I’ve been waiting since one o’clock and she’s still not here. I tried calling her house and cell, but no answer.”<br /><br />“Really?” Mrs. Nadzrah said; she suddenly sounded worried. “Well, I'm sorry, but she didn’t tell me if she was going anywhere. She did mention that she wanted to see you this week though. I'm glad she got to you. This is quite unlike her to not show up.”<br /><br />“Yes, it quite is. Look, sorry I bothered you Mrs. – I mean, Ibu. But if you could…”<br /><br />“Of course, I’ll let you know if I hear from her. And I think I’ll try calling her as well. I'm a little worried. You take care. It was nice to hear from you again, Rafar. Come on over for dinner someday.”<br /><br />“Okay, thanks Ibu,” Rafar said. He found it slightly amusing that his ex-mother in law would be so nice. But that didn’t matter at the moment. Right now he was wondering where in the world was Evie Nadia? He began calling her mobile phone again. Still no answer. He began calling their old friends.<br /><br />“Evie? No I haven’t seen her for a while. Really? Well I’ll try to call her,” said Marina. “I haven’t seen her; I'm in Bali at the moment, sorry Rafar,” said Juliza. Rafar made a few more calls, including to her office, but nobody knew where Evie was. After what was probably the hundredth call to her cell phone, Evie’s mobile diverted him to her voicemail. Her phone had probably run out of juice. It was three o’clock. If Evie would show up at all, she’d be two hours late, and it’s not like her to be that late.<br /><br />Okay, something’s happened, he thought. He left Solaris and sped to Ampang, to the Sri Kenanga apartments, the home they once shared. He parked his car outside and quickly told the security guards he was here to see a friend. They mostly ignored him anyway. Rafar noticed her white Volkswagen was still in the parking lot; that couldn’t be good. He paced his way to their old apartment, taking three steps at a time on the stairs. When he reached the door, he found it overwhelmingly familiar, down to the shoe cabinet beside it. It was a door he used to come home to. Rafar knocked.<br /><br />“Evie? Evie, are you home?”<br /><br />Nothing. He knocked again. “Evie? It’s me, Rafar. Are you home?” He realized that was a stupid question but he was feeling worried. He called the house and heard the telephone ringing. Still, no answer. He knocked again, this time harder, and raised the volume of his voice.<br /><br />“EVIE?”<br /><br />A door opened, but it was the next-door neighbor. It was a woman, in her fifties. She was wearing a t-shirt and pants, and had probably been cooking, judging by the oil-stains on her cloth. She squinted at Rafar. He knew her, of course; he used to live here after all, and he was slightly surprised his former neighbor was still there.<br /><br />“Kak Mira,” he said. He realized he was panting from climbing up the stairs.<br /><br />“Rafar? Ya Allah, it’s been so long. I thought.. you know,” the older woman said.<br /><br />“Yes, well, it’s complicated. Kak Mira, have you seen or heard Evie leave the house today?”<br /><br />“No, why? Is something wrong?”<br /><br />“I, I don’t know. I was supposed to meet her two hours ago but she didn’t show up. I tried calling but no answer, and none of her friends or her parents knows where she is. So I thought… well, I came here. Her car is still downstairs.”<br /><br />“Really? Wait, let me try.”<br /><br />Rafar thought what was the point? But he let Kak Mira knock and call Evie’s name. As expected, no answer. They tried again, calling and knocking on the door alternately. One of Kak Mira’s children, a boy of about 10, came to see what the fuss was about. Rafar remembered the kid; he was four when he last saw him, and the child didn’t know who he was.<br /><br />“Where could she be? You didn’t hear her leave?” Rafar asked again.<br /><br />“No, I'm sorry, I didn’t. Is there any reason to be worried? You look worried,” Kak Mira said.<br /><br />“I don’t know. Her car is still down there. And she’s not answering both phones. I know Evie; she’s not the kind to show up late. I don’t know, I'm worried. But if I could hear from her right now, it’ll be a Godsend.”<br /><br />“Well, don’t you used to have a spare key? But I guess you gave it back to her.”<br /><br />“Wait, what did you say?”<br /><br />Kak Mira looked like she said something wrong. “I said, don’t you have a spare key?”<br /><br />Rafar went blank for a moment. He remembered when they were still married, they had four sets of keys for the house; one was hers, one was his, one was kept in a key cupboard labeled ‘SPARES’… and the other one was stashed secretly behind…<br /><br />He squatted down, moving so fast it startled Kak Mira. He began pulling the locked shoe cabinet beside the doorway.<br /><br />“What are you doing?” Kak Mira asked. As he pulled the cabinet, which was heavy (he forgot how heavy it was with Evie’s loads of shoes inside it), he explained.<br /><br />“We always kept a spare key outside, hidden, just in case,” he said. He managed to open a six-inch gap between the cabinet and the wall. He felt around with his hands; he hoped it was still there… and… bingo! His fingers touched upon a hard cold object beneath a smooth layer of cellophane. He pried it off and showed it to Kak Mira, who raised her eyebrows.<br /><br />“We taped it to the back of the cabinet,” he said. Kak Mira motioned for him to open the door, and Rafar nodded. His hands were trembling as he tried to insert the key into the lock; he fumbled twice, but finally managed to jam it in. He turned, and heard the satisfying clunk! of the mechanism releasing. Rafar opened the door and stepped in. Kak Mira followed.<br /><br /><br />------------------------------<br /><br /><br /><u><span style="font-weight: bold;">Saturday, 3.19PM</span></u><br /><br /><u>Muhammad Rafar</u><br />As I stepped into the apartment, an immense feeling of familiarity and nostalgia swept over me. This was the first time I set foot into its walls for four long years. And now, as I look at every corner, every angle of its walls, I see us together. For a moment I just stood there still. It felt surreal.<br /><br />The apartment was pretty much the same as it was when I left four years ago. Some of the decorations have changed, and a lot of the stuff that was mine was of course no longer there. But the furniture was the same; the TV was the same, and the colors of the walls were all like it was years ago. The only things that were new was a very Zen, Japanese style lamp in corner; on a small table beside the sofa, Evie had put framed pictures of her and her family and friends. I felt slightly hurt that there wasn’t a picture of me.<br /><br />“It’s quiet. Sounds like she’s not home?” Kak Mira said, interrupting my thoughts but reminding me why I was here.<br /><br />“Let me have a look,” I said. I stepped softly, putting my hands on the familiar furniture. I came to the dinner table; I glanced right, towards the kitchen. The windows were closed and I could hear no activity. I swept my gaze from right to left: my old ‘media room’ was empty; the guest room in front of me was empty save for some huge teddy bears Evie kept there. When my gaze came to the left, it was our old bedroom. The door was open. I stepped towards it and a sickly sweet smell rose to my nose; I looked down and saw what looked like a dried puddle of vomit; immediately my fears were raised.<br /><br />“Evie?” I called out and walked into the bedroom. My eyes scanned the oh-so-familiar room. There was nothing but then I realized I was looking too high up. As I looked down on the floor, I saw her. She lay still on the carpet, her cell phone lying a few inches from her right hand; her left was on her stomach. She was dressed in a t-shirt that was slightly raised, exposing her belly, which looked slightly swollen, and a pair of shorts.<br /><br />“Evie!!” I shouted and immediately went to her side; I lifted her into my arms and felt her body was hot; then I saw her chest rise and that at least told me she was alive. “Evie? Ya Allah, what happened? <span style="font-style: italic;">Kak Mira!</span>!”<br /><br />The elder woman appeared at the door and put a hand to her mouth. I told her to call an ambulance and she nodded, rushing to make the call. I sat on the floor, feeling helpless, not knowing what to do. “Evie? Are you alright?” I said as I cradled her head in my arms. She looked so lifeless, like she was drained of life. I held, not realizing I had begun to cry, worried to death.<br /><br />“Rafar…” a weak voice called out my name. I looked at her face; her eyes were slightly open. Her body was sweating and feverish, and she was slightly trembling. I caressed her hair (I realized it was styled differently; in other circumstances, she would have looked gorgeous).<br /><br />“Rafar, you came…” she said, her voice feeble and strained.<br /><br />“Shh.. Of course I came… It’s okay; I’ve called for help. Hang in there, you’ll be alright.”<br /><br />Kak Mira came in and told me the ambulance was on its way. Then she rushed out and came back with a blanket and a cool, moist towel. She made me wipe Evie’s forehead with it.<br /><br />“Rafar…” Evie said, but I put a finger to her lips.<br /><br />“Shh.. Save your energy. You’ll need it.”<br /><br />Evie gave the slightest hint of a smile, but then she grimaced again and her hand went to her stomach. “It... It hurts…” she said. I could only watch in pain. In truth I thought I couldn’t. This was worse than seeing her cry after our divorce.<br /><br />“Hush, Evie, you’ll be alright. Have patience,” I said. Without thinking, I kissed her forehead. “I'm here.”<br /><br />About ten minutes later the emergency medical transponders arrived. They put Evie on board a stretcher and I followed suit in the ambulance. The nearest hospital was Gleneagles, about 5 minutes away. As we rode there, Evie lay motionless. The medical guys had put in an IV for her. One of them had put his hands on his stomach and mouthed <span style="font-style: italic;">‘appendix’ </span>to me. I had nodded. I felt less worried; appendicitis was very treatable… but how long had she been lying there on the floor? Did it happen after our phone call?<br /><br />I pushed these thoughts out of my head as we arrived at the hospital. A grey haired male doctor came by us; he assessed the situation in what I thought was lighting speed. I followed as they took Evie into surgery. All along, I held her hands and kept looking at her, telling her she’ll be alright.<br /><br />“Rafar…” she said in her weakened state. The rumbles of the gurney’s wheels were drowning out her voice. I bent in closer while still keeping my feet on the move.<br /><br />“Yes? Shh, you shouldn’t speak,” I said.<br /><br />“Rafar… I…” she said. She had been given anesthetics, and she was losing consciousness. I held her hand tighter, but her own grip was loosing. “Hang in there, Baby,” I said.<br /><br />“You… you called me Baby…”<br /><br />I smiled at her, if only to alleviate some worry. “I guess I did…”<br /><br />“Sir, we have to take her inside the OR now,” said a grim nurse beside me. I looked at her; she must have seen the worry on my face, as her expression softened. “We’ll take care of her, Sir. Don’t worry.”<br /><br />I nodded, reluctantly. “Rafar…” Evie called my name again. She looked paler and weaker by the minute as the drugs kicked in.<br /><br />“Yes, Evie?”<br /><br />Then, somehow, <span style="font-style: italic;">she smiled</span>. She stretched her lips, and in that instant I saw the girl I fell in love with eleven years ago and the woman I married, and the woman I was still madly in love with. She smiled, and just before she went through the doors of which I could not follow, Evie said,<br /><br />“Wait… Promise me… Promise… wait for me. Wait for me… Wait…”<br /><br />And then the doors closed; but I had already made the promise.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I will wait for her.</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><div style="font-style: italic; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:85%;">There's a time for everyone if they only learn<br />That the twisting kaleidoscope moves us all in turn<br />There's a rhyme and reason to the wild outdoors<br />When the heart of this star-crossed voyager beats in time with yours<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />----------------<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">to be...... concluded......</span><br /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7420985887871930530.post-62583482680782063672009-03-13T07:30:00.000-07:002009-03-28T14:38:04.425-07:00Evie Nadia III: There Will Be No Regret<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">--------------</span></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">hello.</span></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">episode 20 Part One will follow shortly after.</span></span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><u>do tell me if you've read this at the cbox</u></span><br />comment forms are temporarily disabled<br /></span></span><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">:)</span></span> <span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><br />- edwan</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">----------------</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2ZDT0DNqehY3ZK4Uk1p_avl9ikE5WvAnuMuZJEiaeNzIJkOrBMXHT7G6QUQngm0omrTLWEm5pAxLRiX0b3xTpHEf2sq7p09-AhgaJh1P-I792CfOt-YvuirTHFLyPcv1eCMN4On80gwU/s1600-h/Love.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 260px; height: 346px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2ZDT0DNqehY3ZK4Uk1p_avl9ikE5WvAnuMuZJEiaeNzIJkOrBMXHT7G6QUQngm0omrTLWEm5pAxLRiX0b3xTpHEf2sq7p09-AhgaJh1P-I792CfOt-YvuirTHFLyPcv1eCMN4On80gwU/s400/Love.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311752167247378578" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><u>Saturday</u></span><br /><br />Sunlight fell on her face; Evie roused from sleep. She turned, placing the palms of her hand beneath her, on her stomach. The stomach cramps and pains were getting worse. She rarely got bad period pains; in fact she couldn’t remember the last bad one. She grumbled and woke up, not feeling too well in her tummy. She took a swig of water from a bottle she always kept bedside, and that seemed to comfort her stomach a little.<br /><br />Evie stretched and yawned, her hair messed up and all over the place. As she sat, slightly drowsy, on the bed, she did some breathing exercises to get some oxygen up and running in her bloodstream. She had things to do; and she meant to do them as soon as possible.<br /><br />Her eyes fell on the ring and the wedding album. Immediately she got up and went to her dressing table, where she kept her jewelry box. She fished around in there and came out with a thin, black leather string with a clasp. She removed the original pendant (a brushed steel medallion with a tribal motif on; where did she get that? She could not remember) and threaded the leather through her wedding ring, creating a makeshift necklace. Pleased with herself, she put it on around her neck and checked the mirror to see how it looked.<br /><br />The ring rested just below the middle of her clavicles, above her bosoms. The black string contrasted starkly against her skin, and seemed to be a very youthful accessory for someone her age. But she had already decided she would not wear the ring; not yet anyway. At the same time she didn’t just want to leave it on top of a shelf or chuck it in her jewelry box (which contained mostly costume jewelry; she wasn’t a big fan of precious stones and metal). So hanging the ring on her neck was an ideal compromise.<br /><br />Evie showered and made herself breakfast:<span style="font-style: italic;"> two chicken frankfurters, baked beans, two soft-boiled eggs, three pieces of toast and a pear, with hot tea. </span>As she ate she planned her day; at the same time her hand kept touching the ring hanging below her neck.<br /><br />Would Adam be free today? She needed to talk to him. But it was Saturday, not the best of times for someone working in a restaurant; it was highly unlikely that he would have the time to spare. And she didn’t want to talk about anything unless he really had the time, because this has to count.<br /><br />What was Rafar doing? But no, no, no. She can’t see Rafar. Not now. Not yet.<br /><br />She decided that she would visit her parents in Shah Alam and take them to lunch; she wanted to tell them what she was planning. She wanted to tell them what she wanted in her life. So she called her parents’ house, and her father, Mr. Hakimi picked up. He was delighted as ever to hear Evie was coming over.<br /><br />“I'm buying lunch today, okay Ayah? Tell Ibu alright,” she said.<br /><br />Her father agreed and actually shouted over the phone to her Ibu, who sounded a bit further away. Evie heard a murmured ‘Okay okay’. Later as the clock struck noon, she was already in her parents’ house, waiting for them to get ready. The day was hot and sunny and humid; ‘cuaca rimas’ as she likes to call it. Evie dressed in a loose and comfortable white short sleeve button down shirt and jeans with flip-flops. She waited in the living room, talking with her mother. Her father was getting ready.<br /><br />“How have you been dear?” Mrs. Nadzrah asked. “You look better. Less tired.”<br /><br />“I'm alright, Ibu. Been getting stomach cramps and pains for a few days now, but otherwise I'm fine,” Evie said.<br /><br />“Stomach cramps? You should go to a doctor.”<br /><br />“Ibu, I'm okay, I think it’s my menses, don’t worry alright?”<br /><br />Mrs. Nadzrah nodded. Evie thumbed through a copy of Anjung Seri that was on the coffee table.<br /><br />“By the way I heard about your… predicament. Ayah told me,” her mother said. She adjusted her tudung.<br /><br />“Ayah really can’t keep a secret huh?” Evie said, joking.<br /><br />“Even if he did I’d have pried it from him anyway,” Mrs. Nadzrah said, smiling. “But you do look much better dear. I'm glad. And what’s that on your neck?”<br /><br />“Hm? Oh. It’s… well,” Evie pulled it out. “I didn’t want to leave it around. But I also don’t want to wear it… yet.”<br /><br />Mrs. Nadzrah raised her eyebrows when Evie showed her. She turned to her daughter. “Don’t want to wear it yet?”<br /><br />Evie smiled. “We’ll talk about it over lunch. Ayah’s ready.”<br /><br />“Yes I am, and I am hungry as a… as a what dear?” Mr. Hakimi said to Mrs., Nadzrah as he came down the stairs. Evie’s mother said dryly.<br /><br />“As an old man?”<br /><br />Evie laughed and the three of them left the house, riding in Evie’s car. Evie brought them to a dim sum restaurant at Shah Alam Mall, near Shah Alam’s city center. Despite her big breakfast she was already hungry, and the steaming bamboo containers contained delicious morsels of Chinese delicacies for her to ravage. They talked as they ate, though it was sometime before Evie herself began to talk; the food was too good to ignore.<br /><br />Mrs. Nadzrah asked her what has brought the sudden change in demeanor. “I'm guessing it has something to do with that little thing around your neck?”<br /><br />“What’s around her neck?” asked Mr. Hakimi, chewing on a wonton dumpling. Evie showed him. “Isn’t that your wedding ring? Why are you wearing it there?”<br /><br />Evie rolled her eyes and playfully scolded her father for not remembering what she already told him. But she gave a brief recap anyway. “Anyway a few days ago I checked my mail and it was there. No stamps too. He must have dropped it himself.”<br /><br />“Interesting,” Mrs. Nadzrah said. “And?”<br /><br />Evie sipped some hot tea. Her father eyed her quietly, no doubt recalling the conversation he had with her. “Don’t push the girl, let her tell in her own time,” he said to Mrs. Nadzrah. “I'm sure she’s made the right decision.”<br /><br />“I know, I was just curious. It’s just been so long since I’ve seen you really happy,” Mrs. Nadzrah said and touched her daughter’s hand.<br /><br />Evie Nadia waved a hand. “It’s alright, I was going to tell you two anyway. So, uhm, I think I…”<br /><br />Evie told her parents over their dim sum lunch. Upon receiving the news, her parents seemed glad; but most obviously, Evie felt there was a wave of relief coming off their expressions. They must have been thinking of her happiness. Evie felt touched; thirty years on and they still haven’t stopped caring.<br /><br /><br />“But it’s funny huh, how things turn out?” Evie said. “I never saw this coming, Ayah, Ibu.”<br /><br />“Well of course you didn’t dear,” her mother said. “Nobody can anyway. What’s important is that you’re clear about what you want. You’re taking a step forwards.”<br /><br />“Yes, of course,” her father chided in. “Remember what I told you, Evie. It’s your decision. And I trust your judgment.”<br /><br />“I just don’t want to be in one spot anymore. I want to be happy. I think I deserve to be.” Evie said.<br /><br />“And as long as you’re happy, my girl, then we’re happy,” said Mrs. Nadzrah. Evie saw she was almost crying, but she hid it well. Her father, though, suddenly seemed too preoccupied with ordering dessert rather than saying anything to Evie. Mrs. Nadzrah elbowed him in the ribs.<br /><br />“What?” There’s nothing left for me to say. She’s a smart girl. She’s my daughter after all,” he said. Then he turned to Evie, with a tender and fond look in his eyes. “But yes, I'm glad. Like your Ibu said, we’ll always pray for your happiness dear.”<br /><br />“Thank Ayah. Thanks Ibu. I needed to hear that.”<br /><br />All three of them ended up ordering dessert; Evie was feeling more cheered up every second. After lunch they walked around the small shopping centre. Mr. Hakimi, much to Evie’s amusement, suddenly decided to get a haircut even thought there was nothing much to cut. “It looks bushy,” he said. Evie found it funny and didn’t bother hiding it. Her father told her to shoo away and help her mother shop or something. She saw her mother checking out scarves, engrossed in what was probably bargaining with the awkward teenage girl manning the stall. Evie made her way to a mobile phone kiosk and in a spur of the moment decision, decided to shell out for one of the latest handsets.<br /><br />Afterwards they went back home and the three of them talked in the living room. Outside it was still hot and sticky so Evie was relieved to be in the cool living room of her parents’ house. Later Mrs. Nadzrah fell asleep on the sofa. Her father was lying on the marble floor, head resting on cushion, and soon he too fell asleep. Evie flipped through magazines for a few minutes, enjoying the serenity of the moment. She gazed lovingly at her parents; silently grateful to God for this life she was living in. She ticked off a box in a mental checklist; parents, done.<br /><br />She thought about the person she needed to talk to next. But first she fell asleep on the sofa.<br /><br /><br />--------------------<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><u>Tuesday</u></span><br /><br />On the previous Friday Evie had taken home some of her work and she spent the rest of her weekend and Sunday doing it. On Monday she took the work back to her office; they were already three quarters of the way done, and on Monday she forced herself to finish them and not procrastinate. The last piece of work was done by quarter to six o’clock. She felt triumphant. Now she could arrange a meeting with him to talk.<br /><br />But first she got her hair done; before going home yesterday she dropped by her favorite salon and asked for a wash and a haircut. Today, she has a new ‘do. Her hair is now slightly shorter, just shoulder length, but it had that layered look and now she sported short bangs that she thought would make her eyes stand out. She was mightily pleased with the new look; her receptionist, Alya, immediately proclaimed she wanted the same look, which Evie found flattering. She felt pleased.<br /><br />When she came into her office and saw that her workload was not so heavy, it made her very happy for no reason. There was still a lot to do, of course, but most of it was trivial stuff she could do with her eyes closed and her hands tied behind her back. What this meant was that she could have a clearer mind to talk to him. And the thought made her slightly nervous. But she was adamant; this must be done, in all fairness.<br /><br />She drew in a deep breath and picked up the phone. It took only one ring for him to pick up; he must have been eager for her call.<br /><br />“Hey,” he said over the phone. Evie sensed his joy and felt a tiny bit guilty.<br /><br />“Hey Adam,” she said. “Are you free sometime this week? Can we talk?”<br /><br />“This week? Yeah, yeah. Sure, anytime. You name it”<br /><br />Evie sensed the sudden up swell of wariness in his tone. She had to make this easy. “Okay. How abo--, ouff..”<br /><br />“Evie? Evie, what’s wrong? Are you okay? Evie?”<br /><br />Evie winced; she held one hand to her tummy. “I'm okay, sorry.”<br /><br />“You sure? Did you hurt yourself? Do you want me to come over?”<br /><br />“What? No, no. I'm fine. It’s that time of the month, I think.”<br /><br />“Oh, okay… Well, if you need anything…”<br /><br />“I'm alright, thanks. So,uh, as I was saying, what about tonight? Are you free tonight, or does Luna need its boss?”<br /><br />“Tonight’s great. Where and when?”<br /><br />Evie thought for a few seconds. Where should they go? Preferably someplace nice. She got it. “Do you know Tamarind Springs in Ampang?”<br /><br />“Know it? Lady, I worked there once. Yeah, that sounds great.”<br /><br />“Okay, that’s good. I’ll make the reservation. Eight o clock?”<br /><br />“Eight it is; I’ll pick you up. It’s along the way anyway.”<br /><br />“Uhm, I think I’ll go myself, if you don’t mind.”<br /><br />“Oh.”<br /><br />Silence. Then he said, “Well, eight o’clock then. See you.”<br /><br />“See you Adam Amirulkhair.”<br /><br />Evie hung up. It was time for her and Adam to really have the talk. In essence she already knew what she wanted, but all the same she wanted to see Adam again. It was only fair. She would not want to go down as the bad person.<br /><br />She breezed through the rest of that day’s work; when lunchtime came she ordered pizza and shared it with Alya. The young receptionist kept praising her new hairstyle and Evie found it cutely irritating after awhile. The whole day she kept looking at the clock, and it seemed like the more she looked, the slower time seemed to pass. To help make it easier she brought forward work that wasn’t due and set out completing them; finally, at six o’clock, she packed her belongings and went home, where she allowed herself a short, 20 minute nap before showering and getting ready.<br /><br />At half past seven she drove to Tamarind Springs, a nice Vietnamese-Cambodian restaurant in Ampang. She reached there at ten to eight, and when she pulled into the parking lot she glimpsed Adam’s black NSX. So he’s here, she thought. Very nice of him to be early. Evie made her way to the entrance where she found Adam waiting; he had a small bouquet of roses and held it out to her.<br /><br />“I didn’t have time to get a bigger bunch or nicer ones,” he said. Evie accepted them.<br /><br />“You didn’t have to, Adam,” she said.<br /><br />“It’s okay… Its just flowers. And I love your new haircut,” he said and winked. They were led to a table by the hostess and sat themselves. The hostess handed them their menus.<br /><br />“So,” Adam said as he opened the menu card. “How have you been?”<br /><br />“I'm.. I'm alright,” she said.<br /><br />“Just the time of the month yea?”<br /><br />“Yea.. eheh.”<br /><br />Evie thought Adam was being really careful. The flowers were nice, but they also seemed like an afterthought. It was like he already knew what she was going to say, and had bought the flowers as a coupon to win her over. Evie felt sad. She decided to talk more general stuff and have dinner first. Adam tried to steer the conversation into ‘the talk’, and he kept injecting his words with praise and niceties for Evie. When their dinner arrived they ate in relative silence; there weren’t that many people in the restaurant.<br /><br />“Evie,” Adam said, softly.<br /><br />“Yes?”<br /><br />“I thought you said you wanted to talk?”<br /><br />Evie nodded. “I do.”<br /><br />He waited. Evie wiped her mouth with a napkin. She felt nervous all of a sudden. But her resolve was strong. It was now or never; she would say it today, come hell or high water. “Adam…”<br /><br />“Yes, Evie?”<br /><br />“I want to say that of all the men I’ve ever dated in my years as a singleton, I think… no, I believe you’re the sweetest, nicest, handsomest and the most interesting. You’re funny, smart, you dress nice. Your charming, with your winking and your cooking. Adam, you stand out among them so clearly that it’s a wonder I haven’t met you before. Plus you drive a sports car. I'm surprised some Mak Datin hasn’t made you her toy-boy yet.”<br /><br />They both laughed a little; it was a lame joke, but it eased some of the dread. Evie took a deep breath.<br /><br />“Adam, do you really love me?”<br /><br />“What?”<br /><br />“I ask; do you really love me?”<br /><br />“Why, yes, sure,” he held Evie’s hand. “I do love you.”<br /><br />“Say it to me, like you said it before. Like the first time you said it.”<br /><br />“Why?”<br /><br />“Please, I need to know something.”<br /><br />Adam paused; he seemed perplexed, and he stared at Evie for a moment, unsure. “Alright,” he said and this time he took a deep breath. “Evie Nadia, I love you. I really do.”<br /><br />As his voice formed those words Evie Nadia closed her eyes; in the brief darkness she tried to catch the words and see if they had pierced. She tried to glimpse if those words would stir her soul or send her heart into crazed palpitations. She heard Adam say her name, but it was vague and distant. He loves me, she thought in a split second of time. But I…<br /><br />“Evie?”<br /><br />She opened her eyes and saw Adam was still holding her hand. “Evie, did you hear me?” Adam said.<br /><br />“I heard you Adam,” she said. He waited to see if she would say something else, but Evie seemed quiet at the moment.<br /><br />“Evie,” he sighed. “I know you’ve had a lot on your mind. But I need to know. I need to know how you feel and I need to know where we are.”<br /><br />He was right, Evie thought. He needed to know where they were. It would be unfair and cruel for her to keep him in the dark about this. Honesty was the least she could do. She has made her choice. And now she would tell Adam.<br /><br />“Adam,” she said, gently, her voice caressing. He looked at her with hopeful eyes. “Adam, when I said you’re one of the most amazing men I’ve gone out with… I really meant it. And I think perhaps I'm forever indebted to you, because in the briefest of times you showed me how my life needn’t be lonely and alone. You showed me I still had much to live for.”<br /><br />“What are you saying, Babe?” he asked, but his face and the tremble of his voice showed he already knew the truth.<br /><br />Evie felt tears welling behind her eyes. She couldn’t help it. “I do love you Adam, but I'm sorry I have to say that I don’t love you in the same way you love me. I'm sorry. I needed to tell you this because I don’t want to give you false hope or half-truths. You deserve to be told the truth and only the truth.”<br /><br />Adam looked down on the table. Evie couldn’t read his expression. But she spoke.<br /><br />“I can’t be the woman you want me to be. I'm sorry.”<br /><br />They both became quiet. It was awkward; very awkward. Evie managed to keep her tears in check, and she had to concede that telling that to Adam, effectively breaking his heart, left a nasty taste in her mouth. This feeling was heightened by his silence.<br /><br />“Adam,” Evie said. “Adam, say something.”<br /><br />He looked up at her, his face defeated. But he managed to smile. “What is there to say?”<br /><br />“I just wanted… no, I was hoping you’d understand…”<br /><br />“Understand?” he said, his voice sounding, for the first time since they met, tired. “I think I do. It’s quite simple to be honest: Your heart doesn’t belong to me…”<br /><br />“Adam, I'm sorry.”<br /><br />“Sorry for what?”<br /><br />“Well, if you think I’ve been leading you on, or giving you wrong impressions.”<br /><br />He rubbed his face. “No, don’t. Please. You don’t have to apologize.”<br /><br />“What?”<br /><br />“I mean it. <span style="font-style: italic;">Don’t apologize</span>,” Adam said, this time leaning closer to her. He toyed with her fingers again. “Let me tell you something, okay?”<br /><br />“Alright…”<br /><br />“When I asked you about him last time, I knew your decision was made. It was in the way you talked about him; your voice had wavered but there was this… vitality in your eyes. I think I saw the path you’d take. I was hoping to try, to get another go, but secretly… well, secretly I knew it was all but over. I knew I had lost.”<br /><br />Evie was speechless. Adam’s words were tinged with a pale blue sadness. He spoke again.<br /><br />“But I don’t want you to apologize, because there is nothing to be sorry for. What you’re doing is admirable you know… A lot of us think about ‘taking the risk’ but few ever go through with it. Evie, do you want to be happy?”<br /><br />Evie nodded. “I do…”<br /><br />“And I want you to be happy. I'd rather you be happy with someone else than to be regretful your entire life with me... Nothing should stop you from this. Not me. Not anyone. So you don’t have to be sorry…”<br /><br />“But… aren’t you hurt? Shouldn’t I be sorry for that, at the very least?”<br /><br />“I am hurt,” he said, laughing a little. “But… I guess you mean more to me right now than my own feelings? How’s that? Is that romantic or corny? Haha… but seriously, don’t worry about it. I’ll be… Well, I’ll be alright I guess. I’ll move on. What about you?”<br /><br />“Me?” Evie said, caught off guard.<br /><br />“Yeah, you. What next?”<br /><br />“I… well, I'm not sure yet.”<br /><br />“You haven’t told him?” Adam asked and laughed when Evie put her hands to her face and shook her head. “Well, I feel a bit special now, haha.”<br /><br />“I'm not ready yet. I will though. Soon.”<br /><br />Evie suddenly seemed to drift off in her own world, and her lips were curled softly at the corners. Adam snickered. “You really do love him that much, do you?”<br /><br />“I… I do…” she said and blushed. Adam leaned back in his seat, his face content but undoubtedly sad. They continued talking; Adam said he wanted to know more about the other guy so Evie told him, although reluctantly out of fear she’d only cause Adam more hurt. But he insisted hard, so Evie told him snippets of her former life, choosing her words carefully. Then the talk moved on to lighter matter. Luna was apparently doing great so far in its maiden year of operation; Evie’s firm just won a contract to do advertising for a major telecommunications company and she was part of the team. Finally they decided to call it a night. Evie paid the bill; she said it was the least she could do. Adam joked that if so, he was going to call her often asking her to buy him dinner. They walked out of the restaurant together.<br /><br />“So…” Adam said.<br /><br />“Yes?” Evie said. She stood in front of him and it occurred to her how tall he was; at 5’5”, she only came up to his shoulders. Even Rafar was slightly shorter than Adam. She looked at him.<br /><br />“Will I see you around after this?” he asked.<br /><br />“Hm,” Evie bit her lip. “I hope so. We’re still friends, right?”<br /><br />“Yeah. Yeah, I guess so. Back to square one. Hi, I'm Adam. Ehehe…”<br /><br />“Evie Nadia Hakimi. Haha…”<br /><br />Adam shuffled his feet. Evie looked to her sides. This was weird.<br /><br />“Well,” Adam said, rubbing his neck. “See you soon.”<br /><br />Evie stepped closer and embraced him. At first he seemed surprised, then Evie felt his hands rest gently on her shoulders. “Thank you Adam.”<br /><br />“I’ll still love you, if that’s okay,” he said as they broke the embrace. He looked sad again. Evie nodded her consent. They stepped away from each other. He offered to walk Evie to her car, and opened the door for her.<br /><br />“Goodbye Adam Amirulkhair,” she said as she stepped in. Evie started her engine and pulled out of the parking lot. Before she drove away however, Adam tapped her window. She rolled it down. He leaned on the windowsill.<br /><br />“You know, if ever you change your mind…” he said.<br /><br />Evie thought of saying something but she didn’t. She smiled instead, and just before she drove off, she looked at Adam. And she winked.<br /><br /><br />-----------------------<br /><br /><br />The first thing she did when she arrived home that night was to cry: she cried for breaking Adam’s heart. She needed to let it out. When she finished, she felt an enormous burden lift off her shoulders. It was hard to be cruel to be kind. She prayed she would never have to do that again.<br /><br />When she had asked Adam to say ‘I love you’ like he did the first time, it was not because she was setting him up to put him down. Rather, she wanted him to say it to see how she felt like. Would she reciprocate that love automatically, showing her that she was wrong and that her true devotions lay with this charming chef?<br /><br />The answer came immediately; at the very moment Adam ended his sentence. And it was simple: her love wasn’t for Adam. She did not feel the electric pulses racing through her body when he said it. She did not feel choked up when he had said it. She did love him… but it wasn’t in the way she expected she would, or the way he wanted her to. And when she confirmed this truth in her heart, she became surer. Her resolve turned to concrete.<br /><br />This was it.<br /><br />This was the beginning of the moment where she would seal all her past sadness in an airtight jar and throw it all away. She walked around the apartment, placing her fingers on the furniture. Though most of the Rafar stuff had long been put away, there was a touch of him in everything in the house. Evie began to think about him under the same roof again, sharing her living room again, sharing her bed again. Sharing lives again.<br /><br />She was excited. From this point henceforth, there will be no regret. All she wanted was to face tomorrow, and she wanted to face tomorrow with the one she loved and truly loves with a burning and eternal fire. All that was left was to tell him.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Muhammad Rafar.</span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /></span></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Maybe a greater thing will happen,</span></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Maybe all will see,</span></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Maybe our love will catch like fire,</span></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">as it burns through me.</span></span><br /></div></div><br /><br />--------------<br /><br />Episode 20 coming on Monday, 17/3/2009<br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);">it's almost over.</span><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7420985887871930530.post-79218418503518794902009-03-10T16:38:00.000-07:002009-03-14T06:10:45.752-07:00Here In This Perfect Dark<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:78%;">--------<br />hello.<br />episode 19 will follow shortly after; give and take 3 days</span>.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">leave feedback<br />:)<br />- edwan<br /><br />p/s: how soon do you want the ending?<br /><br />----------</span><span style="text-decoration: underline;"></span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3WIMix56YSLH__OISzCE20ICZmlZdGFrdUDAlZfz-m3dyf2Adp4A3LEJVW5xNMYHyUpFXDw_t4vbnVOShWuBgnP1FKBrZPO9V_w4SxmAX9H7AtVJ42mtMmzkBX_udLCLARVLkbxmNN9w/s1600-h/KLnite.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 215px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3WIMix56YSLH__OISzCE20ICZmlZdGFrdUDAlZfz-m3dyf2Adp4A3LEJVW5xNMYHyUpFXDw_t4vbnVOShWuBgnP1FKBrZPO9V_w4SxmAX9H7AtVJ42mtMmzkBX_udLCLARVLkbxmNN9w/s400/KLnite.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311336658116275362" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="text-decoration: underline;"></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Of all the gifts bestowed upon us humans, foresight is not one of them. None can truly see what the future holds, and none can really guess more than a few minutes ahead of their time. Some have cursed this apparent deficiency; you hear it all too often when someone says,</span> “If only I could tell” <span style="font-style: italic;">or in its more disguised form:</span> “If only I knew.”<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">But there lies the hidden beauty of not knowing: if we knew things beforehand, would life be as meaningful as it is? After all, it is the journey we take is what makes the answers we receive at the other end more fulfilling. Foresight would have taken away the anticipation and the hopes and more importantly, our will to seek the truth.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">And is that not what we all seek? Truth? Truth that would put our fears at ease? Truth is why we endure life.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">And after all we go through, when the truth finally unveils itself from the clouds and fog of our hearts and mind, we would finally be able to find courage to face it; a courage that by all means was probably there all along.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"></span><span style="font-weight: bold;"> Veritas vos liberabit: “And the truth shall set you free…”</span><br /><br /><br />------------<br /><br /><br />He stood there in front of his bathroom mirror, cheeks and chin lathered with shaving foam. He washed his razor beneath a slow, steady stream of warm water; bringing the blade up to his face, he cut straight, swift strokes through the foam, each swipe revealing a smoother patch of skin; he left only a small, roughly square patch beneath his chin. He washed his face with cold water and dried it with a towel.<br /><br />Muhammad Rafar looked at his own reflection.<br /><br />He looked weary although he promised to take care of himself to Evie weeks ago; he still wasn’t eating or resting properly. At times he allowed himself to be consumed with work, spending hours either in his studio, out in the field, or in front of a computer. That, coupled with his relative disregard for himself lately, contributed greatly to his weary look.<br /><br />A few days back as he was cleaning out his jeans, he found an object in one of the pockets; he had forgotten it was there. He took it out and saw it was a ring. The very same wedding ring he had put on Evie’s finger with his own hands, six years ago. He had held the small gold band in his hand, studying it, examining it.<br /><br />The metal was still shiny and the diamond sparkled like the brightest star. He had tried to put it on, but it was tiny: it barely got through the mid-section of his ring finger. Rafar thought of how small Evie’s hands are.<br /><br />He had put the ring on a bedside stand, and often before he went to sleep, he would look at it. He would pick it up, fiddle with it in his hands and put it back down. Sometimes he caressed it; a very Gollum-like behavior he found quite amusing (if somewhat disturbing). The difference was that his ‘precious’ wasn’t the ring itself; it was the owner.<br /><br />Then one day he bought an envelope and wrote a note; he put the ring in the envelope along with the note, and drove to the apartment he had once shared with Evie. He dropped it in her mailbox. He wasn’t really sure what would happen, but the truth was looking at the ring was too much of a reminder of her. And these days, he was reminded enough of his mistakes. Besides, the ring was rightfully hers. It was a gift, a symbol of his love to her before, Rafar thought. And so it should be until the end of days, lest he never see her again.<br /><br />He had told himself to drop the ring and forget about it. But now he finds himself wondering what Evie was thinking when she received it. Part of him was worried Evie hasn’t noticed the envelope at all, or that some mail-stealing jerk had stolen it and it was now lost. But something also told him that, yes, Evie found the ring. And she kept it.<br /><br />Rafar was at odds with what to do. He knows he shouldn’t be blatant and fight for it, because that would over-complicate Evie’s life. Anyway he had tried this before and got rebuked, hard. It wasn't something he wanted to happen again; he had been pretentious before and he did not want to repeat the mistake. He also did not want to do anything that would make her drift away even further. All he wanted was to be with her again. But he did not have the means to do it.<br /><br />Not right now anyway.<br /><br />The whole <span style="font-style: italic;">‘makan tak kenyang, mandi tak basah, tidur tak lena’ </span>thing was wearing thin on him. He hated feeling so empty. He felt this was punishment. The day he realized he was still deeply in love with Evie Nadia and wanted her back was a day that was both terrible and liberating. Terrible in the sense that he felt like a jerk and a fool for his abandoning her years ago; liberating in the fact that he realized now what was missing in his life all along. He was very sure Evie would complete him, just as she had years ago, despite his foolishness.<br /><br />But after being openly rejected by Evie Nadia months before, Rafar’s hopes were waning and torn. At the back of his mind he still thinks that after all this he will eventually end up with her again, but that part was unthinking, hopeful and idealistic. It was the part that still believes in love stories. His more rational mind was telling him to cut this shit and move on; just move on.<br /><br />But it’s so hard. <span style="font-style: italic;">Of course it is.</span><br />I don’t think I can do it. <span style="font-style: italic;">Why can’t you?</span><br />Because I love her. <span style="font-style: italic;">But you had your chance and you blew it.</span><br />But she loves me. <span style="font-style: italic;">Love doesn’t mean being together.</span><br />I can’t move on. <span style="font-style: italic;">Yes you can.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">BUT I DON'T WANT TO</span>.<br /><br />And that was the conversation that played on an infinite loop in his mind. Resigned to the fact, Rafar let it play. He didn’t want to move on. He was too old to be chasing tail. So he tells himself that even if loving and yearning for Evie means he’d live a miserable, empty and unfulfilled life… so be it.<br /><br />Now, as the city lights of Kuala Lumpur began to switch on and bathe the streets in it’s harsh but lovely neon glow, Rafar sits at home, nursing a cup of hot green tea. He wasn’t much of a tea person; but his coffee habit was causing him headaches and he was too tired to even <span style="font-style: italic;">have</span> headaches. He wondered where Evie was; what she was doing. She’s been calling recently, which he thought she did because she was worried for his health. Secretly he wishes that the calls were a beacon of hope; something for him to hold on to.<br /><br />He wanted to see her badly. But he chose not to intrude in her life. If she wanted to see him, let her be the one to initiate it. Enough with the surprise appearances and calls. He has already made his feelings clear. She has yet to say anything, and as every little candle he lights for her in his heart blows out, he thinks she will never say anything. He felt dismayed and lost, an empty, almost pathetic shell of his former self. His life seemed to have evaporated overnight, because of his one love for this one woman. Isn't it just grand what love can do?<br /><br />Rafar stretched his neck, rubbing it and carried his tea to his reclining psychiatrists’ chair in the balcony. A playful memory jogs into his mind.<br /><br /><blockquote><span style="font-style: italic;">"I'm free tonight. Do you want to do something? Go out maybe?" he had said. I" don’t want to go out tonight," she had said. She had had a misty look in her eyes. She wrapped her arms around his waist and kissed him. "I want to stay home. I want you. Make love to me."<br /><br /></span></blockquote>But as easily as that memory had come, it vanished. He found himself lying on the sofa, his arm thrown across his forehead.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I wonder where you are,</span> he thought. <span style="font-style: italic;">What are you doing? I wonder if you are thinking of me? Do you feel my thoughts calling out to you, wishing for your touch?</span><br /><br /><br />-----------<br /><br /><br />Not too far away from where he was, Evie was sitting on her bed, her back against the headboard, dressed in comfortable cotton pyjamas. Her cheeks had a slight glow to them and there was a hint of a smile on her lips. She was fiddling with her wedding ring in her hands; since the day she received it, she had alternated between putting it on and taking it off to examine and play with it. When it was on her finger, she’d glance admiringly at the polished gold band and the sparkling diamond. It looked ‘right’ on her. She felt like she’s never taken it off at all.<br /><br />Beside her on the bed was a photo-album of their wedding. Sometime after their divorce, Evie had climbed on a chair and stowed that album away in the highest shelf in her home ‘office’ (which had once been Rafar’s so called ‘media room’) and refused to even acknowledge it was there. But the day after she had put her ring back on, she found herself standing on top of the same chair to reach for it. It had a fine layer of dust on it, which she carefully wiped away with a moist cloth. She had taken the large album and carried it to bed with her.<br /><br />She spent hours poring over the photographs. How happy they looked back then! The smiles on their faces had been as bright as the sun. There was a close up photograph of her hands folded together and the wedding ring visible. She kept comparing the photo to her hands; but of course they looked the same. She thought they looked bonier back then, but her hands haven't aged visibly yet. They were the same urchins' hands, petite and fragile looking.<br /><br />Over these past few days Evie has been slowly regaining her self. She felt as fine as paint, apart from the occasional stomach cramps, which she was sure was PMS. Other than that, she felt slightly brighter and in control.<br /><br />Evie did not fully understand how the human mind or heart works. She did not understand, for instance, how she suddenly feels more focused and driven when just a few weeks ago she cried herself to sleep due to feelings of confusion and guilt. She was not sure how she suddenly realized where her true wants and desires really lie, although she has yet to say it out loud. She did not know how her heart was suddenly so sure and so certain regarding this point of her life. She did not know how she knew that this was to be a pivotal moment for her; she just <span style="font-style: italic;">knew.</span><br /><br />All of it just happened, seemingly overnight, brought forth by a tiny circle of metal that seemed to symbolize everything for her.<br /><br />Since that day she had that little chat with her father, she somewhat gained a new perspective on things. Like she’s mentioned before; for once, she saw not through the tear-clogged eyes of a confused woman, but instead she saw herself through the eyes of another 'Evie', one that was stronger and unhampered by fear and guilt; it was like she was sitting on the outside looking in.<br /><br />Through this new perspective Evie saw that it all looked like a corny soap opera, the kind with bad cinematography and tense, dramatic dialogue that were interspersed with equally dramatic music. But here’s the thing: all of a sudden, everything made sense to her.<br /><br />Not many people are gifted with a sudden moment of clarity; that is probably the reason why so many of us choose to ponder and mope for days on end about our lives, instead of choosing to act and step into tomorrow rather than be dragged into it. But now Evie was one of the lucky few; and when she had that epiphany, it became so painfully obvious to her that it looked ridiculous.<br /><br />In a sudden flash of inspiration, she understood everything.<br /><br />She understood why some loves remain undying. She understood why we forgive the people we love even when they’ve hurt us. She understood why it is so hard to move past certain things whilst others get thrown away like one throws away the cellophane wrapper from a pack of chewing gum. And although it might be construed as overly dramatic to say so, Evie supposed she understood now what true love really means.<br /><br />It’s <span style="font-weight: bold;">truth</span>; the meaning of true love is about being true to the one you love, but above it all, it is about being <span style="font-style: italic;">true to herself</span>, to what she wants to achieve and have. Sometimes, to be truly happy, you have to put yourself above others. <span style="font-style: italic;">Sometimes it's okay to be selfish.</span><br /><br />Because surely she’ll never forgive herself if one day, in the future, she realizes that she had given up the one she truly loves?<br /><br />And with the realization of that truth, she accepted. She accepted her past and she forgave it; this time she truly forgave Rafar and most importantly, she forgave herself. She accepted that life is full of setbacks and cruel twists of Fate, but that was no reason to be angry and resent her own luck. All she had to do was to take the best out of it, not the worst.<br /><br />Evie sighed on her bed, still toying around with her ring.<br /><br />She will have things to attend to in the next few days. It is time.. She thought of someone else for a brief moment; it threw her mood of a little, but it was necessary. Curiously, Evie did not feel afraid, and there was only the smallest bit of guilt. He should understand, Evie thought. She was confident he would understand.<br /><br />The fears of the future were almost completely gone now from within her heart. In its place was a belief that tomorrow is full hope and promise; this tomorrow was fueled by nothing else but love, and it will be unconquerable.<br /><br />Evie Nadia Hakimi took the photo album beside her and put it on the little bedside table. She placed the ring carefully on top. She went outside to her balcony and stared into the city lights of Kuala Lumpur. They were mesmerizing. A cool breeze ruffled her hair and she wrapped her arm around herself. A crystal clear memory gently inserted itself into her thoughts.<br /><br /><blockquote><span style="font-style: italic;">"Wake up, my lovely wife," he had said. She had rubbed her eyes and opened them to see her husband gazing a loving gaze at her. "Good morning my husband," she had said and reached up to kiss him. It was the morning after their wedding. They were in the bridal chamber at her old house. "I can’t believe we’re married," they had told each other in unison.<br /><br /></span></blockquote>The memory was a fond one; Evie smiled and she felt hot in her cheeks. She knew she was blushing; she remembered how Rafar used to tease her because of how often her face would turn red, even if there was no reason. She wondered where he was; that night where was Rafar? Where was Wiseguy?<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">What are you up to? </span>She thought, as she looked across the horizon into the city lights of Kuala Lumpur.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Are you still missing me, even right now; and are you thinking of me like you say you do? Do you know that I feel your beating heart, and that I love you?</span><br /><br /><br />----------------<br /><br /><br />As the night draws deeper, Kuala Lumpur slowly falls asleep. The lights stay on, but skies are now almost pitch black, dotted sporadically by celestial objects that refuse to give in to the diminshed light.<br /><br />Here, in this perfect dark, there is nothing but love and desire. Evie and Rafar yawn and the two of them retire to their bedrooms, separated by no more than 20 miles; both were aware of each other’s presence beneath this blanket of darkness. Both wondered what the other was thinking about.<br /><br />But neither knew that a million candles were to be set aflame for them; and neither could guess how when that happens, there will be no darkness.<br /><br />Just their love and desire.<br /><br /><br /><br /></div><br />--------<br /><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: right; color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: left;"><blockquote><span style="font-size:85%;">this is a short episode; the previous one was unnecessarily long.<br />but almost everything that needs to be said has been said.<br /><br />it's almost... there.</span><br /></blockquote></div><br /><br /><br /><br />-----------------<br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7420985887871930530.post-65734800937976984982009-03-06T21:29:00.000-08:002009-03-09T16:32:19.450-07:00It Is Time<div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:78%;">-----------</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">please leave feedback,<br />good or bad i don't mind, i won't take offence,<br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;">thank you</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br />:)</span></span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:78%;" >- Edwan</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">---------------</span>---------------------</span><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg5jwmLsHr-CsihR3wvwFvCa1uwqEPcpI-9cMkaDReJr08KX6ybFdYaNmm-KesqMFSUW77pEbzrr0_J7RxYdhUP-vvyCjeX5sIcWU7mEYg3ZEYTqXyGwNTTT93w1OX_6fYA6aLR2Nj6x4/s1600-h/envelopes.gif"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 318px; height: 249px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg5jwmLsHr-CsihR3wvwFvCa1uwqEPcpI-9cMkaDReJr08KX6ybFdYaNmm-KesqMFSUW77pEbzrr0_J7RxYdhUP-vvyCjeX5sIcWU7mEYg3ZEYTqXyGwNTTT93w1OX_6fYA6aLR2Nj6x4/s400/envelopes.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310685039149974194" border="0" /></a><br />It’s been a week since she slept over at her parent’s house. The little talk she had had with her father was a comforting one for Evie. It put things into perspective. She’s been feeling better as well, other than the fact that lately she’s been hit with sudden stomach cramps or pains. But some painkillers sort of dispelled it, so that was fine. What was important was that she was feeling better overall. She was thinking with both her head and her heart, and not either one, and though she thought she was nowhere nearer to finding what it is her heart desired, she was positive she was on her way.<br /><br />Except for the fact she has not seen both Adam and Rafar. Adam has been calling her regularly, and they’ve talked over the phone, even though Evie kept their conversations general and light, never going deeper than she thought she needed to. She sensed that Adam was slightly hurt the way she turned down every attempt at romance he swung her way. She did, however, admire him for trying. It was sweet.<br /><br />Rafar, on the other hand, had been quiet for weeks. But when she called him (which she found odd: she hasn’t been calling Rafar for… years!) he always answered the phone, so she knew that he was around… and she hoped he was alright. He always sounded tired over the phone. One day Evie almost asked him why he hasn’t been calling her, but then realized how that might have looked. As with Adam, she could not afford to light a fire beneath Rafar. She thought the two of them has already laid our their cards… and though both of them never spoke it (at least, not Rafar… Adam was clearly trying to woo her back), she felt that they were waiting for her to come up with her hand.<br /><br />She had her cards, but she hid it well, and she was neither going to put down a bet nor raise the stakes.<br /><br />She was at work one morning when her receptionist, Alya, punched through a call for her.<br /><br />“There’s a man here to see you. Mr. Adam Amirulkhair, he says?”<br /><br />Evie sighed. “Can you take him to my office dear?”<br /><br />“Sure thing Miss Evie.”<br /><br />Evie straightened her hair, which had grown longer and was now brushing the middle of her shoulder blades when let down. She adjusted her blouse and moistened her lips just as Alya, the pretty young receptionist, knocked and opened the door and led Adam in. Alya looked flushed; Adam must have been flirting with her. She left them alone in the room.<br /><br />“Hi,” he said. He was clean shaved and dressed casually. Evie smiled at him.<br /><br />“Hi,” she said. “Have a seat,” she motioned to the chair in front of her desk. Adam took the seat and for a moment they just stared at each other. A slight awkwardness saturated the air. Both of them cleared their throats.<br /><br />“So,” Evie said.<br /><br />“So,” he replied.<br /><br />“Have you come here today at my esteemed firm to discuss some advertising for Luna? Mind you, we charge a fortune.”<br /><br />Evie said this cheerfully, trying to break the awkwardness. It was odd for her to feel that way, considering that just about a month ago she was smitten and charmed by the handsome man in front of her. They were dating after all.<br /><br />“Luna’s fine, they have the handsomest chef in Malaysia to advertise for them,” he said, grinning. He clasped his hands in front of him. “I came to see you. I haven’t seen you in… two weeks? That’s way too long. You’re coming to lunch with me later. I won’t take no for an answer.”<br /><br />“Well…”<br /><br />Adam leaned forward on her desk. “Please? I miss you. It feels like I haven’t seen you in years.” He touched her hand and gently caressed it. “Don’t you miss me too? I promise I won’t wink anymore if you come to lunch with me.”<br /><br />Evie thought it over. Finally she agreed. “Alright, I will. Place and time?”<br /><br />Adam punched the air in triumph. “Yes! She’s coming to lunch with me!”<br /><br />“Adam,” Evie said, slightly amused. “Where and when?”<br /><br />“Wa-Raku Japanese, half-past twelve. You know that place? I can always pick you up.”<br /><br />“Wa-Raku… at Jalan Stonor? Yeah sure, I was there with my boss and clients once. I’ll drive there myself, I have some errands to do.” This was only half true; the other truth was that she wanted to be alone before the date.<br /><br />“Alright, sure. My friend’s working there, so we should get a good deal,” Adam said. He stood up to leave. “So I’ll see you at half-twelve.”<br /><br />“You came all the way from Bangsar to ask me to lunch?” Evie asked. He shrugged.<br /><br />“I had a feeling you’d say no if I just asked over the phone. So it was time to pull out the puppy dog eyes.”<br /><br />Evie felt a slight twinge of shame at that because she knew it was true. They smiled at each other.<br /><br />“Hey, Babe?”<br /><br />“Yes?”<br /><br />“I really missed you, you know?”<br /><br />And she did know. It was there, written in his eyes and carried on his voice.<br /><br />“I know,” she said. She saw a small light go out in one of his eyes. She knew he was hoping she’d say she missed him too. And the truth was she did; but like she thought before, she can’t light a fire beneath him. “We’ll talk okay? Now go, I have work, and don’t hit on Alya, she’s like a sister to me.”<br /><br />Adam smiled. And winked at her.<br /><br /><br />--------------------<br /><br /><br />After Adam left Evie went back to her work. She thought about what to say to Adam later during lunch, because surely now she had to say something. It would be cruel of her to turn Adam down every time he steered their interaction towards something romantic. She felt bad enough for avoiding ‘the talk’; ‘the talk’ was supposed to have happened two weeks ago on the day Adam said he was in love with her. It was now probably past it’s ‘best before’ date. Evie had this inkling of a thought that Adam thinks she was not convinced that he was in love; as a result, he seemed to be trying hard to please her and to convince her, which was making it ever more difficult for her.<br /><br />Maybe if this had happened a week or a few weeks before that day this Wiseguy showed up and cried and unearthed her own suppressed emotions, she would have happily accepted Adam into her life and made her way up from there. But this was life, and of course life has to be more complicated than that. And like her father said, it was no use mulling over the ‘what ifs’ and the ‘what could have been’. Time, and life, moved in only one direction: forwards. The past is the past.<br /><br />What did her heart say? Evie had an idea but it was not fully formed yet.<br /><br />But she knew she had to speak to Adam about this. It was only fair for him.<br /><br />When the clock struck noon Evie packed her handbag and left the office. She told Alya she might be a little late coming back as she had a matter to attend to. Evie drove to Jalan Stonor in her white Golf, which was a short distance away, and just as she arrived at the restaurant and parked her car, Adam’s black NSX pulled in the parking slot behind her. It was a cool day; the grey clouds above were signaling rain, and there was a heavy hint of ozone in the air. Evie was pretty sure that pretty soon the skies would play host to streaks of lightning and rumbling thunder.<br /><br />“Perfect timing! Are you Japanese? You’re very punctual,” Adam said as he got out of the car. He came up to her and took her hand. She let him. “Shall we?”<br /><br />They went into the restaurant and were led to their table; it was the kind of restaurant Evie loved. The décor was very minimalistic, modern-Zen style, but it thankfully avoided looking austere and sterile. It was an elegant restaurant. She felt comfortable. As they ordered their food, the skies opened and it began to rain. In the right instances it could have made the atmosphere more romantic; but today Evie felt it was more appropriate for something less than that.<br /><br />“I'm so happy to see you again,” Adam said. “You look gorgeous, as always. Have you done something to your hair?”<br /><br />Evie rolled her eyes. “Adam, it’s only been, like, two weeks.”<br /><br />“You have no idea how long that two weeks felt to me. Especially since on our last date you uh… well, you weren’t feeling very well. It’s okay though, at least now we’re here.”<br /><br />“I'm sorry… I’ve just been busy and a little stressed out from work… and some other things. But I'm getting better now. I'm sorry for not seeing you for so long.”<br /><br />“It’s fine dear, it really is. Like I said, I'm just very pleased to see you again.”<br /><br />Again he caressed her hands, tenderly and full of affection. They looked into each other’s eyes, both of them trying to unlock each other’s emotions. Except to Evie, Adam’s feelings were making no attempt at being secret. She saw her own reflection in his eyes, and knew that was probably all he was seeing at the moment. They shared a quiet moment, both of them suddenly unsure of what to say. A first date all over again.<br /><br />“Have you any idea how amazing you are to me?” he said suddenly.<br /><br />“Adam, I –“<br /><br />“You are,” he leaned closer. He squeezed her hands, gently. “I lov- “<br /><br />Just then the waitress arrived with their drinks; Evie was glad for the interruption, while Adam looked mildly annoyed. When the waitress left, they both looked at each other laughed.<br /><br />“Where were we?” Adam said.<br /><br />“We were… nowhere, I guess?” Evie said. She made a wide, dumb grin.<br /><br />Adam smiled back. He took a deep breath. “I love you Evie.”<br /><br />Evie was momentarily taken aback by those words. He said it so casually and yet with genuine intent. This was going to be quite a conversation she would initiate. She was quiet, unsure how to respond. Adam was still holding her hands.<br /><br />“Evie?”<br /><br />She realized she must have looked lost in her thoughts. Evie sighed. “Adam…”<br /><br />He looked wary. She could see he swallowed. Her own throat felt dry and itchy all of a sudden. Before they could say anything further their food arrived. Again, Evie felt glad for the interruption but knew they had to talk. She could not put this off any longer. They ate, quietly, neither of them saying much, both of them wondering where the following conversation would lead to. For the first time since she dated him, Evie saw Adam was visibly uneasy. She suddenly lost her appetite (which was to her, a very rare occurrence). She felt a faint, stabbing ache in her stomach, but did her best to ignore and dull it away. She poked what was left of her lunch and saw that Adam was still eating, and his eyes were wary and alert, but he was quiet. Evie thought she should talk now before things got more awkward between them. It was jarring enough to both of them to suddenly lose grasp on the chemistry evident between them before. Evie pushed her plate aside.<br /><br />“Adam, dear,” she said.<br /><br />“Hm?” he said, wiping his mouth.<br /><br />“We need to talk…” She hated the way she sounded: feeble. But she couldn’t help it. How was she supposed to sound like anyway? Assertive and strong? This wasn’t one of those moments. Adam pushed his plate aside and looked at her. When he spoke he sounded careful.<br /><br />“Okay,” he said. “Sure. What do you want to talk about?”<br /><br />Evie leaned back on her chair. “About us… about you and me.”<br /><br />“Oh boy.” Adam rubbed his hands together. “Okay… what about us?”<br /><br />“Uhm,” Evie said. How to start? “I think I’ve been deflecting your… well, I’ve been deflecting the things you’ve been saying. And it’s bad of me to do so, and I'm sorry...”<br /><br />She continued.<br /><br />“Adam, before I say anything further, I think you have something you want to ask and say to me, right? Please, tell me now.”<br /><br />“Evie, I…” he looked around him, as if asking for help. “Alright. I’ve been feeling this strange vibe coming off you since the day I first said I loved you. And after that day I hardly ever saw you, so I was beginning to think I scared you off or something. If so, I'm sorry, but I also want to say I’ve never been surer about my feelings. I do love you; you’re this amazing, wonderful woman and I thought we had great chemistry. But now it’s changed, suddenly, and I can’t figure out why.”<br /><br />Evie nodded quietly, biting her lower lip.<br /><br />“Funny how things can change so suddenly huh?” Adam said, sighing. “I want to be with you Evie. I think we have so much to promise each other. I thought you were feeling the same way…”<br /><br />He looked at her. “Do you…?”<br /><br />Evie shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She edged closer to the table and held his hands. “Adam, something happened that day you told me you love me.”<br /><br />“What?”<br /><br />“First I want you to know that I did enjoy the time I spent with you. And I do appreciate what you’re telling me. I really do. And we wouldn’t be having this conversation if this something didn’t happen the other day.”<br /><br />“So… what happened?”<br /><br />Evie took a deep breath and told him how Rafar re-appeared in her life, and of the day Rafar showed up at her building looking thin and sickly. This was the first time Evie told Adam Rafar’s name; before this he only knew of him as her ‘ex-husband’. As she told him, Adam studied her intently. He looked worried.<br /><br />“And that night, I met with you and you suddenly say that you love me; it was too much for the day. I short-circuited, I guess. And ever since then my emotions have been swirling and swirling but they never settle down. That’s why I’ve been avoiding the things you say, because I don’t want to raise your hopes only to end up crushing them. And believe me, it hurts me to do this to you because if there is one thing I can say for certain, it’s that I care for you. I really do,” Evie said. “I just feel… caught, you know?”<br /><br />Adam sighed. “I guess I do…”<br /><br />“He is my ex-husband. There was a reason I married him in the first place. And I'm surprised myself that after all these years; I still have feelings for him. And it hurt me, it hurt me deeply than I ever thought I would be hurt when I saw him in that state; it hurt me even more than when we separated,” Evie said. “I'm sorry I'm telling you this now, Adam, but I think it’s only fair for you to know. I don’t want to leave you in the dark and lead you on…”<br /><br />Adam nodded. To Evie’s surprise, he asked, “Tell me more about your husband.”<br /><br />“What? Why?” she asked back, puzzled.<br /><br />“I don’t know… Curious, I guess.”<br /><br />“Well,” Evie said. “We met when we were nineteen… dated for awhile and got married six years ago. After two years… well you know.”<br /><br />“What’s he like?”<br /><br />“He’s…” Evie thought. She thought of Rafar; of his qualities. “He’s quiet; no, reserved is more the word I guess. But he has this way with words. You know Chandler from FRIENDS? He’s like that, but not as loud or obnoxious. He’s calm, soft spoken… if you didn’t know him you’d probably say he was the brooding type. And he has this constant bed-head that makes him look messy…”<br /><br />The more she thought of Rafar, the more she felt like she wanted to see him, to see how he was. So she stopped. “I'm sorry, I can’t.”<br /><br />Adam nodded. “Alright…”<br /><br />Silence.<br /><br />“So what happens now?” Adam asked.<br /><br />“I don’t know Adam…”<br /><br />“Do you… do you still love him?”<br /><br />Evie thought quickly, her mind racing. Should she lie? Could she lie? She decided to avoid the question, feeling shameful and cowardly in doing so.<br /><br />“Can I please keep it to myself for now?”<br /><br />“I'm sorry.”<br /><br />“No, it’s not you. It’s me. I shouldn’t be feeling this way in the first place.”<br /><br />“It’s alright. I understand.”<br /><br />“I'm sorry. I know this is hard for you, too. But I don’t want to be rash and plunge into this. I don’t want to take a path only to discover one day that I'm not entirely happy with the choices I made. I don’t want to regret, Adam. I just want to be sure.”<br /><br />“This won’t change the fact I still love you, you know?”<br /><br />“I know…”<br /><br />“Can you please tell me anything I could do to win you over?” Adam said, smiling. He was trying to lighten the mood, but Evie saw in his eyes that he was hiding hurt and worry.<br /><br />“I can’t. It’d be cheating,” she said.<br /><br />“Eheh, yeah, I guess it would be.” He chuckled and looked down on his hands. They both sighed and checked their watches. It was time to go. Evie thought for now there was nothing left to be said. She was glad she managed to tell Adam, but she also felt horrible. She knew how disappointed he must have felt, when it seemed there was much promise between them. But this was for the better.<br /><br />They paid the bill and left the restaurant. Outside, the rain had subsided and bits on sunshine were poking through the clouds. Adam walked Evie to her car. They did not hold hands.<br /><br />“Will I see you soon?” he asked as he opened the door to Evie’s white Golf.<br /><br />“Maybe,” she said.<br /><br />“I'm looking forward to it already.”<br /><br />“Don’t.”<br /><br />“Can’t help it.”<br /><br />She smiled at him and felt pangs of sadness.<br /><br />“I love you Babe,” he said. “I really do.”<br /><br />“I believe you,” she said, and that was at least true. Adam lingered, probably still hoping for something at least. But Evie did not say anything. She sucked on her teeth.<br /><br />“Well, I’ll call you okay?” he said.<br /><br />“Okay.”<br /><br />Evie entered her car and watched Adam walk back to his on her rear view mirror. His footsteps looked heavy, and he was looking around as if lost. It was the walk of someone on the verge of defeat. Just before he got into the car, he turned around to look at her. Evie stared at the reflection and lifted a hand. He waved back, got into the car and drove away, honking at her as he exited the car park. Evie followed suit soon afterwards, and headed back to her office.<br /><br /><br />-----------------<br /><br /><br />When she went home that night she felt awful, and not just because of her stomach pains (she though her period must be due). Though the lunch with Adam did not go as bad as she expected, it was still a painful ordeal to sit through. But at least she managed to tell him why she has been avoiding any attempt at romance. That was a start, at least. And she was glad that Adam had taken it quite well. She knew he suspected her true feelings; why else would she hide it from him anyway. But she admired the way he had not let that bring him down.<br /><br />Dear, sweet Adam. She wished things were easier for the both of them. It was already unfair for him to be dragged by her own tide of emotions; by telling how she was feeling she hoped she was making it clear that she can’t give him an answer. Not yet anyway. But she had this sneaking suspicion it won’t be too long before she could.<br /><br />Now, alone at home, she just wanted to relax for a moment.<br /><br />She thought about calling Rafar but decided against it. One at a time, one at a time, she repeated to herself. She did find it perplexing that Rafar hasn’t said much since that day; unlike Adam who was still playing his cards, Rafar had just put down his bet. Evie thought it must be because he thinks there is no hope; knowing Rafar, Evie was sure that, while he does obviously wishes to get back together with her, he also thinks he has nothing left to offer. It was a “here’s my heart, take it” thing to him, like that day in the rain so very long ago, at the beginning of their relationship. More and more Evie found herself thinking of Rafar. The things they did and the memories they shared. Whose to say it was never meant to be? She did not know.<br /><br />What she knew for certain was that she still loved him, although even that was bringing her some inner conflict. Part of her thinks that she shouldn’t; that Rafar had had his shot at her love, and that was it. The other part is the part that has the names ‘MUHAMMAD RAFAR’ carved forever into it, and is beating strong and proud, a love undying through the years.<br /><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2008/08/and-ten.html"><br />Had she not said so herself? That in one way or the other, she would always love her Wiseguy</a>?<br /><br />Evie mumbled to herself as she made her dinner; flat rice noodles with chicken soup and soy sauce. Her stomach still ached but she took some off-the-shelf painkillers and that seemed to be working. She sat down at her dinner table, which could seat four, but those three extra chairs only ever found use when she had guests or her parents over. As she sat down to her meal, she browsed through the jumble of letters that had earlier been sticking out of her mailbox.<br /><br />Bills. Bank letters. Office stuff. Volkswagen newsletters. Tesco and Giant brochures. Yada-yada-yada. But then one envelope caught her attention; it was un-stamped, and only had her name written on it in neat bold letters. The handwriting she knew all too well. The envelope was small, and there was a circular bulge in it. She carefully opened it and shook the contents out. A metallic object and a folded sheet of paper fell out.<br /><br />It was her wedding ring. <a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2009/01/evie-nadia-takes-off-her-wedding-ring.html">She remembered the day she took it off and left it with Rafar</a>. Evie frowned. She examined the envelope again; seeing as it was unstamped, she knew then that Rafar had dropped it off by hand. Evie unfolded the piece of paper that had come with the ring. It was a hand-written note. All it said was:<br /><br /><blockquote style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-size:85%;">This was yours to keep. Still is.<br /><br />Yours,<br />Rafar<br />P/s: is it okay if I still believe in that better tomorrow?</span></blockquote><br /><br />Evie studied the note carefully. Though the words were few, they seemed to say so much. She noticed how he did not say ‘I love you’ or ‘with love’; instead he had put there ‘Yours’, which meant so much more than the sum of it’s letters. It was a statement, wasn’t it?<br /><br />Evie put the note back in the envelope and picked up her ring. She had almost forgotten about it. Even the pale band of skin where it used to be had somewhat returned to a normal color. Evie fiddled the gold band, studying it. She glanced around her apartment; an apartment she used to share with Rafar.<br /><br />There was little there now that spoke of him; she had re-decorated after the divorce and had hid away or discarded the things that reminded her of him back then because it had been too painful. But now the lack of any evidence that he ever lived there only amplified his presence. The apartment seemed to be holding his soul and spirit within its walls.<br /><br />Or maybe it was her? As she looked around she reminisced about the times when he was still here; Rafar at the dinner table, cleaning his camera gear. Rafar in the kitchen, cooking her breakfast. The two of them watching TV while sharing a tub of ice cream. She saw herself cuddling up to Rafar. She saw Rafar’s often amusing (and usually very successful) attempts at seducing her.<br /><br />The memories were… pleasant. Evie was surprised. This was new for her; usually the memories of them together would hurt but now, suddenly, they didn’t. It was like getting a visit from an old and much loved friend. Evie shook her head and snapped out of it. She couldn’t and didn’t want to get caught up. She wanted to be sure… of what, exactly? She already knew how she felt towards Rafar, even if right now she wasn’t saying it out loud.<br /><br />She felt her stomach ache again, and that brought her back to reality. Feeling a bit queasy she washed up her dishes and took some medication. She decided to retire early that night.<br /><br />Before she closed her bedroom door, she threw a sweeping look at her apartment again. In one quick second, it all crystallized for her.<br /><br />And absently, without even realizing it, she put her ring back on.<br /><br /><br />--------<br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: right; color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">sorry this is quite messy i think</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">- edwan</span><br /></span></div><br />-----<br /><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7420985887871930530.post-51756717276687515462009-03-01T14:51:00.000-08:002009-03-01T15:20:48.400-08:00The Man She Loves The Most<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:78%;">----------</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">leave feedback</span><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">:)</span><br /><br />-----------<br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAuVrUv9rUscwpXMMSbaJmUyg2mjifSMSkabuFs3S3jVF8-77fo-nvuHwxF4_qKPmHtKLsVF9S31u0mMeYxFFkYdx0mmSXvJOWl3zgi39VGZu6U9cYHegOFIKjxfwcfnMieWoNy9nzt-E/s1600-h/hug.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 283px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAuVrUv9rUscwpXMMSbaJmUyg2mjifSMSkabuFs3S3jVF8-77fo-nvuHwxF4_qKPmHtKLsVF9S31u0mMeYxFFkYdx0mmSXvJOWl3zgi39VGZu6U9cYHegOFIKjxfwcfnMieWoNy9nzt-E/s400/hug.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308355818923888754" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">There comes a point in the lives of everyone when they are made to face a difficult decision. These decisions will force you to make choices that could potentially alter and re-write the very pages onto which your lives have been written on. These decisions will impact you in every possible way; your minds, body and soul; your beliefs and dreams. Your tomorrows will never be the same, all because of one decision, a singe choice they’ve made. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">And the thing about making these decisions is that none of you would actually know just how you’ve been affected; not until you are on the other side, and the choice has already been made. And this is where a lot of people stumble when making decisions: the prospect of the unknown, of what could be, or, to some, of what might have been had they done otherwise, is, at times even more terrifying than making the decision itself. But to the brave who make the decisions and face whatever it brings for them, the results could prove to be tremendously gratifying… or horribly crippling.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">But this is life. There is no ‘undo’ button, and you can’t turn back time to rectify whatever mistakes or errors in judgment you have made. Life does not wait for yesterday to catch up. Instead, life is a constant battle between the present and the future. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">For here, at the very edge of existence, is where things really matter; because it is the things we do and the decisions we make in the present that will shape our tomorrows, for better or for worse. How you face tomorrow, then, is up to you. Because life is not about what was or what could have been. It is about what you do with the time you have, and what happens next. The person who stays in one place, pondering his or her yesterdays and wondering about the things that could have been, is the person who is wasting the time given to them, and it is them that have most to regret in the future.</span><br /><br /><br />--------------------<br /><br /><br />Evie Nadia woke up when she heard a knocking on the door. She stretched her limbs and squeezed her eyes. She felt thoroughly relaxed, but where was she?<br /><br />“Evie, come let’s have breakfast,” said a voice at the door. It only took Evie nanoseconds to register the voice as belonging to her mother’s, Mrs. Nadzrah. Next she realized she had spent the night at her parent’s house, so that was where she was. Evie got up, a bit groggy, but she felt better. She opened the door. Her mother was outside, wearing a t-shirt and trousers, with a scarf tied loosely around her head. Mrs. Nadzrah eyed her daughter, whose hair was all wild and messy.<br /><br />“Wake up. It’s ten in the morning. Brush your teeth and wash your face, then come down for breakfast. I bought you Nasi Kerabu from the Pasar Tani.”<br /><br />Mrs. Nadzrah then left Evie alone. Evie yawned and again stretched her limbs. She brushed her teeth and washed her face, and straightened her hair. She trotted down the stairs and saw her father, Mr. Hakimi at the table, reading the Sunday papers. He saw her come down the stairs and pushed a seat next to him, inviting her down. Evie smiled at her Ayah. Then her mother came carrying a pot of coffee, and set it down on the table. There were three packs of what Evie thought were nasi lemak as well as her own nasi kerabu. Her meal was already unpacked and lying on a plate; cutlery had been set down beside her plate. She suspected it must have been her father who did that. She joined her parents at the table.<br /><br />“Morning Ayah, Ibu,” she said. “Ummm, nasi kerabu. Did you open it for me? Just like the old days. Ayah, I can open my own meals, okay?”<br /><br />Her father did not look up from the broadsheets. “No matter how old you get you’re never too old to be my only child. If I can pamper you to death, I will.”<br /><br />Mrs. Nadzrah rolled her eyes and mouthed to Evie, ‘<span style="font-style: italic;">Softie’</span>, but Evie blushed a little and felt her heart fill with love for her parents. “Even now that I'm thirty?”<br /><br />“Even until you’re a hundred, provided I'm still around,” Mr. Hakimi said, and he smiled at Evie. “Now come, let’s makan. We went to the pasar without you. I thought you’d want to tag along, but your Ibu said you wanted to sleep.”<br /><br />“Eh, you’re blaming me now?” Mrs. Nadzrah said. “I said she looked tired, and you were the one who said <span style="font-style: italic;">‘let her rest at home’</span>. Ohh, so you’re the good guy now?”<br /><br />“Mestilah. I'm always the good guy.”<br /><br />Mrs. Nadzrah pinched her husband on the shoulder and he cringed in pain. Evie laughed at her parents. They were both fifty-seven years old and were as happy as ever. Evie thought that perhaps the only thing they were sad about in their lives was the fact that they were not blessed with more children. Like Evie and Rafar, they had met in their college days; like Evie and Rafar, they were also separated for a while as both went on to pursue their studies. Unlike Evie and Rafar, they had stayed together and made a family.<br /><br />Evie hungrily ate her nasi kerabu, followed by three curry puffs, two pieces of kuih lapis, one piece of kuih bingka, a slice of wholemeal bread with peanut butter and a banana. She washed this down with two cups of coffee, a small cup of orange juice, and a tall glass of water. Mrs. Nadzrah shook her head, always amazed at her daughter’s appetite. Evie leaned back on her chair and rubbed her stomach. She belched, quietly, at the back of her hand.<br /><br />“Excuse me,” Evie said. Her father smiled and munched on a curry puff as he read the papers. Mrs. Nadzrah was sipping coffee. She asked Evie,<br /><br />“Are you going back straight away? Working tomorrow?”<br /><br />Evie thought for a moment and shook her head. “I am working tomorrow. But I thought I’ll stay another night, if that’s alright?”<br /><br />This time Mr. Hakimi looked up. “Of course it is. Why would you ask permission to stay at your own home?”<br /><br />“Ayah,” Evie said, smiling in gratitude. “Are you two doing anything today?”<br /><br />“Nothing much,” her mother answered. “I'm baking cookies later. You want to help? And help as in help, not help eating the cookie dough, like you usually do!”<br /><br />“Sure! Haha! I’d love to! Is Ayah helping as well?”<br /><br />Mr. Hakimi grunted. “No. Your mother won’t let me. Says I’ll ruin the dough. Anyway I'm meeting a friend for lunch today.”<br /><br />Evie left the table and let her parents talk. She went upstairs and took a cold shower; it made her feel slightly dizzy but she needed it after the heavy meal. She went to her parent’s bedroom, which had a balcony and stepped outside. The sun was shining and the skies were blue. It was shaping up to be a lovely day. Bukit Jelutong was quiet, calm and peaceful. As she stood at the balcony, a very young man passed by below on the street. Evie recognized him as one of the neighbors’ kids; he had to be no more than eighteen years old. And yet the kid looked up and whistled at her! Evie smiled despite herself and waved back, and much to her amusement, Evie saw the kid’s face blush red, even in the sunlight, and he quickened his steps and broke into a run.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Boy, I bet you don’t get much attention from girls, do you?</span> Evie thought and laughed. She surveyed the street; it was nearing afternoon. On a Sunday such as this, things seemed pretty lazy. People either stayed home, had late lunches or lazed around, or they were at one of the hundreds of shopping centers in the Klang Valley. Evie felt relaxed. She felt more relaxed this morning than in the past few weeks. Last night she did not dream, nor did she wake up with a damp pillow. For the first time since a few weeks, last night she had slept soundly and well. Evie thought she would tell her mother about her current predicament. About how, at this moment, she thinks she’s being faced with a decision that she hoped would not cause anyone any hurt, as impossible as that may sound.<br /><br />“I’ll tell Ibu later when we’re making cookies,” she said out loud, unaware she had spoken.<br /><br />“Tell Ibu what?”<br /><br />Evie turned around, surprised and embarrassed when she realized she had spoken her thoughts out loud. It was her father, carrying his pipe (which he liked to hold and put in his mouth; but he had stopped smoking sometime ago). He joined Evie at the balcony and put a hand on her shoulder.<br /><br />“Can you tell your Ayah too?”<br /><br />Evie looked at him, gazing into his thoughtful, caring eyes. He should know as well, of course. It was just that Evie thought about telling her mother first, because she felt a woman-to-woman would be more appropriate. But this was her father after all, right? Of all the men in the world, who better to listen to her?<br /><br />“Come on, girl. You can tell your Ayah,” he said, smiling gently with a pipe in the corner of his lips. “Ibu just went out to the shops to get her cookie stuff.”<br /><br />“Aren’t you supposed to go out?” Evie asked.<br /><br />“Well, yes, but you’re more important. You’re troubled aren’t you dear?”<br /><br />Evie nodded. “I guess I am. Am I that easy to read?”<br /><br />“When you’ve lived with someone for more than twenty years, they become like well worn, well read and well loved books. I am talking about you, of course. Not your mother. Twenty seven years and I still don’t understand her,” he smiled.<br /><br />Evie laughed at the joke. Mr. Hakimi spoke again.<br /><br />“Now, come on. You can tell your old man.”<br /><br />Evie sighed. “Where do I begin…”<br /><br />She recounted her recent experiences, from the day she met Rafar again (her father visibly frowned upon hearing the name) at Juliza’s wedding some months ago, and how she had met and had been going out with Adam, the fun and charming chef who loved to wink, and how suddenly Rafar had had epiphanies about their relationship, all the way up to the day he showed up at her building and broke down in tears, and Adam’s proclaimed love for her.<br /><br />Evie broke down in tears again, feeling the confusion and weight settling on her chest. She hated crying over this, but that was the only way of letting the feeling go. She felt like a clichéd, weak damsel in distress, the stock-character of almost every romance story she’s ever read. She hated it.<br /><br />“And now… well, I don’t know. I feel like I'm on a tightrope. I just know they want to be with me, but I don't know what to say to either of them,” she finished, her eyes red and watery. Mr. Hakimi pulled out a handkerchief as if by magic and handed it to her. Evie wiped her eyes. Mr. Hakimi was quiet when Evie told her story. He nodded thoughtfully.<br /><br />“I have to admit this is rather awkward for me,” he said and smiled. Evie smiled back and mouthed ‘it’s okay and sorry’. Her father looked at her warmly. “Hmm, let’s go have a seat, it’s getting hot out here.”<br /><br />They stepped back in the room and sat on the bed. Evie leaned on her father’s shoulder, much like she did for so many years as a child.<br /><br />“I don’t know what to do, Ayah,” she said.<br /><br />“Did they say they want to be with you?” he asked.<br /><br />“No. Not yet anyway. Well, Rafar said it before, but I rejected him outright. I was angry. And Adam hasn’t said anything, you know, ‘formal’ yet, but what else do you expect when someone says to you ‘I love you’?”<br /><br />Mr. Hakimi rubbed his chin and switched his pipe from one corner to the other. “True, true. This is most unexpected. It’s like one of those dramas your mother loves to watch on television.”<br /><br />“Ayah…”<br /><br />“Well, you know what I mean. Rafar, huh?”<br /><br />“Uh-huh.”<br /><br />“You know, I always knew he’d regret divorcing you.”<br /><br />“Ayah-"<br /><br />“No, no, I don’t mean it in a hostile way. And maybe I'm biased. But I knew the day he divorced you that he would one day wake up and regret it. Who wouldn’t?”<br /><br />Evie smiled. “That’s very flattering, Ayah…”<br /><br />“And it’s true, too,” he said. He sighed. “He was a good boy, that Rafar. I liked him a lot. Clever. Polite. Knows his way around elders. It broke my heart when you two got divorced.”<br /><br />Evie was quiet.<br /><br />“And suddenly today you tell me he breaks down crying in front of you,” he said.<br /><br />“It’s so strange, right?” Evie said.<br /><br />“Well maybe not. Like I said, any man would have regretted it.”<br /><br />Father and daughter were both quiet for a moment.<br /><br />“What about this other boy?” her father said. “This Adam Amirulkhair? He seems like a nice lad.”<br /><br />Evie sighed. “He is. He’s sweet and caring and… oh you know. I was already dating him and I was already sort of hoping that we’d, you know, get steady. I was counting on it, in fact. But then…”<br /><br />“Rafar.”<br /><br />“Yes, Rafar.”<br /><br />Mr. Hakimi stroked his chin. “Well… do you like him?”<br /><br />“Who?”<br /><br />“Adam.”<br /><br />“Yes, I do,” Evie bit her lip. “I like him a lot. I think I may even love him a little, for what he’s brought me and what he seems to promise for me.”<br /><br />“Promise? What do you mean?”<br /><br />“Ayah, you should have seen his eyes when he told me he loved me. They were so… sincere. And when I couldn’t say anything back you should have seen how hurt they looked. I saw then how he loved me and how in his eyes he had this… promise. I knew he could make me happy after what I’ve been through with Rafar...”<br /><br />Mr. Hakimi began to understand. “And it would have been easy if not for the fact you realized that you’re still <span style="font-style: italic;">very much in love with Rafar,</span> your ex-husband.”<br /><br />Evie nodded and her eyes began to water again. She began sobbing like a little girl. “Ayah, I still love him so much. For four years I tried to get over him, tried to convince myself to move on. And I thought I had succeeded when I met Adam. Then Rafar comes sauntering into my life again. But how can I deny the way Rafar cried at me, Ayah? How can I deny that I’m still in love with him?”<br /><br />“Hmh, there, there, don’t cry. Big girls don’t cry,” Mr. Hakimi said and held his daughter.<br /><br />“Now I don’t know what to do; I'm unsure of myself. I feel like I'm being unfair to Adam, and it feels like I'm cheating on him. I also feel like I'm torturing Rafar’s very own heart and soul by letting him be like that,” Evie said. “I wish I could turn back time…”<br /><br />‘What was that?” Mr. Hakimi asked.<br /><br />“I said,” Evie sobbed. “I wish I could turn back time so that none of this would have happened. I wish I never met the two of them.”<br /><br />Mr. Hakimi raised Evie’s shoulders and looked her in the eye. “You do not wish that.”<br /><br />“And why not?” Evie said.<br /><br />“Because you don’t mean it. And because by saying so it shows you’re angry at Fate. And who decides our Fate? It’s God, right? We have no right to be angry with God. Instead, all the things he puts in our way are meant to test our will and resolve, even if, at first glance, it seems trivial, like most romances are, such as this.”<br /><br />Evie blinked, shedding fresh tears. Mr. Hakimi took a deep breath and put his pipe on the bed. “Now let me tell you a story. Your mother knows it, because it was the right thing to do, telling her. But you’ve never heard this story before.”<br /><br />“Okay,” Evie said.<br /><br />“You know how your mother and I went to further our studies at different countries, of course.”<br /><br />Evie nodded.<br /><br />“What you don’t know is something happened to me back then. Something that, at the time, I thought should not have happened to me.”<br /><br />“What was it, Ayah?”<br /><br />“I fell in love with another woman.”<br /><br />Evie wiped her eyes and frowned. “You did?”<br /><br />Mr. Hakimi nodded. “I did. She was a batch-mate of mine. Her name was Suraya. Tall, fair, friendly. We started out as friends, of course. She was a friend of a friend, but over at our place, us Malaysians tended to stick together. So I saw her often, and pretty soon we hung out a lot.<br /><br />Now at this time I was still corresponding with your Ibu, of course. We sent each other letters and posted them everyday, though they’d arrive a week or two late. That was the day before internet, of course.”<br /><br />Mr. Hakimi smiled at Evie and Evie smiled back. He continued.<br /><br />“But despite having friends over there, I got lonely. Emotionally lonely. Your mother’s letters meant the world to me, but I yearned to see her and to feel her close to me. At the same time, I began to see Suraya a lot. At first we hung out along with some friends. But then peculiarly, the ‘friends’ began to drop out and we began to spend more and more time together, just the two of us. And it happened quite suddenly. Sure, the distance and time apart from your mother played a huge factor, and one day I woke up in my cheap rented room and realized I had developed romantic feelings for Suraya.”<br /><br />“What did you do then?” Evie asked, curious.<br /><br />“Well I freaked out! It felt so wrong… and yet, at the time, right. To be honest I was not quite sure. The feelings were there. And yet at the same time, I was still writing love letters to your mother and missing her deeply. I felt, for lack of a better word, like a jerk. Since Suraya knew I had a girlfriend, I thought I was the only one. <span style="font-style: italic;">Syok sendiri</span>, so they said. But then one day she confessed her feelings to me too! Needless to say, we began dating.”<br /><br />Evie looked at her father, who was shaking his head. His eyes were lost in his memories. He continued.<br /><br />“It was the strangest time of my life. And I did nothing to stop it. I was in love with two women who loved me back. I felt terrible and wonderful at the same time. And always I would sleep troubled by bad dreams and bad thoughts. After a few months, one day I felt that I could not take it anymore… I was lying to your mother. So I bought an IDD card and called her half-way across the globe, and told her everything.”<br /><br />“What did she say?” Evie asked.<br /><br />“At first, nothing. She just cried over the phone. And I remember the sound of her crying made me weak in the knees. I tried to comfort her and sooth her, even though I was the one at wrong. We talked and we cried at the same time. I would run out of money and had to rush out to get more calling cards. We talked for days, trying to figure it out. At the same time I was also telling Suraya that I had to figure it out. And she was trying to make me choose her!<br /><br />This went on for weeks, maybe a month or so, I can’t remember for sure. Then one day as I was talking to your Ibu, I asked her: ‘Sayang, I don’t know what to do. I'm sorry I'm hurting you, and I'm sorry this happened. I wish I had not fallen for Suraya. I wish I could turn back time and not spend time with her, and just be faithful to you. Nadz, what should I do?’”<br /><br />Evie nodded, listening intently. “What did Ibu say then?”<br /><br />“She said this: <span style="font-style: italic;">‘Kimi, I cannot tell you what to do. I cannot force you to choose me. I cannot force you to leave her. I cannot tell what is going to happen to you, nor can I tell you to think about how things might have been if you had not fallen for this Suraya girl. What I can tell you, however, is that this is your decision to make. And whatever it is, you are the one who has to be brave and take the risk. You are the one who must decide what you want in your life, because right now, the power to shape your life is in your hands. And whatever it is, later on, you cannot have any regret. We live for the future, not yesterday. If yesterday is a mistake, then today or tomorrow is where and when we learn from it. That is why it is not good to think about how you wish things happened differently, because it does not matter, it's in the past, and by doing so you’re saying that you’re upset with the path God laid out for you. What you can do is to follow your heart, take the risk, make your decision, and pray and hope that your tomorrows are going to be alright.</span>’”<br /><br />Evie’s father was quiet. His eyes seemed to mist over. Evie laid her cheek on his shoulder. “And then what happened, Ayah?”<br /><br />“Well,” he said, clearing his throat. “What your mother said made me think: she was correct. What was the use of me moping around, feeling self-pity at a predicament of my own doing, and thinking about doing the impossible: that is, changing the past. I thought long and hard about what your mother said. About taking a risk and moving forwards, not just staying put and wishing for yesterday to come around again so you could do things differently. I thought long and hard. I followed my heart.”<br /><br />“And where did your heart lead you?” Evie asked. This time Mr. Hakimi smiled.<br /><br />“You already know,” he said. “My heart belonged to Nadzrah, your Ibu. I cleared things between Suraya, and one day I told your mother I loved her and that all I wanted was her. She forgave me, a fact I am eternally grateful for. To cut a long story short, later then we both came home and got married. Then something happened that justified my love for your Ibu, and the decision I made.”<br /><br />“What was that?”<br /><br />Mr. Hakimi touched Evie’s hand. “<span style="font-style: italic;">We had you</span>. That was when I knew that I would not swap my life for anything in the world. Not even a chance to turn back time and do things differently, to see what could have been.”<br /><br />“You see,” he said. “Everything that happened, is happening, or will happen is because of a reason. We might not see what the reason is straight away. But that does not mean we have to fear it. Life is about taking risks. Because we won’t know what’s on the other side if we don’t get there.”<br /><br />Evie smiled and squeezed her father’s hands. He put a hand to her cheek. “Don’t be afraid of what life throws your way. Face it, head on, even when you think you’re powerless. Because the fact is, you’re not. You have strength. You can take all the time you need. Nobody can tell you otherwise. You have the power to decide what you want from life. Because…”<br /><br />Evie nodded. “It is my life…”<br /><br />Her father smiled. Evie sighed. She felt better. A lot better, in fact, than when she first reached her the day before. She was nowhere nearer to getting on with what to do with her current situation, but now she’s put it in perspective. Now she was seeing it like she was an observer rather than the one in the situation. In doing so, she felt she would eventually have a better grasp on the situation. And hopefully, she will come upon an idea of what to make of it, despite her fear of tomorrow or hurting someone she cared for.<br /><br />But there was something else she wanted to find out. “Ayah,” she said. “What happened to Suraya then, after all that?”<br /><br />“Hm? Well,” her father said, and Evie detected a hint of sadness in his voice. “She passed away from cancer a few years ago; we went to the funeral, your mother and I.”<br /><br />“But was she happy after you two ended it.. and uh, before she died?”<br /><br />Her father looked at her. “A few years after we ended it, she married a nice businessman who went on to become a Dato’. They had 5 children. She died peacefully, a millionaire and in the company of her husband and children. So I suppose it’s safe to say that, yes, she was happy.”<br /><br />They smiled at each other.<br /><br />“Thank you, Ayah,” Evie said. Her father smiled, kissed her brow and shoo-ed her away.<br /><br />“I want to use the loo. The nasi kerabu is getting to me,” he said.<br /><br />Evie laughed and left her father to do his business. She went to her own room. Her steps felt lighter, her mood felt lighter. Yes, she was still upset about her predicament, but her father’s tale comforted her. And he was right.<br /><br />She can’t afford to mope about how things were or how things might have been. What she can do – no, has to do, is to have courage, and to be strong, and to just tread the waters Fate has thrown her way, no matter how deep or how strong the currents are.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />----<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: right; font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"><span style="font-size:85%;">'catalyst' episode.<br /><br />epiphanies.<br /></span></div><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7420985887871930530.post-43230547520754470182009-02-26T12:13:00.000-08:002009-02-26T12:54:23.915-08:00Evie Nadia II: These Photographs, A Note In The Dark<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >----</span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >leave feedback!</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >:)</span><br /><br />------<br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5cWNAJsuNBq3r4unaTCNlrZBf4Bzs9tMtK_WKp_ZtqhQrPjwt3Iw-L0n1eIvxXhhlsDsMJNYGYMjDtL_apunpTlEyCQcFSpH6YgEuHGxlcRlmprdKMkc_WAk0J_06Vg2A692d5PbgQyA/s1600-h/oh.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5cWNAJsuNBq3r4unaTCNlrZBf4Bzs9tMtK_WKp_ZtqhQrPjwt3Iw-L0n1eIvxXhhlsDsMJNYGYMjDtL_apunpTlEyCQcFSpH6YgEuHGxlcRlmprdKMkc_WAk0J_06Vg2A692d5PbgQyA/s320/oh.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307202430782065890" border="0" /></a><br />When she was growing up, and all the way through her college days, Evie’s family had lived in the area of Wangsa Maju, just outside Kuala Lumpur. It was a busy place, with good connections to the city centre and beyond. After she married Rafar and moved to the apartment at Jalan Ampang, Evie’s parents decided to step away from the busyness of the Wangsa Maju area and moved somewhere quieter.<br /><br />They settled in a double-story link house in the quiet, somewhat upscale neighborhood known as Bukit Jelutong, which was part of Shah Alam. Evie’s father, Mr. Hakimi Ubaidillah, was a lecturer who has since retired and made a small fortune as a consultant. Her mother, Mrs. Nadzrah Abdul Nadzri, was a lecturer as well, now retired. Nowadays she passed her time selling cookies to her friends and acquaintances.<br /><br />It was to their house that Evie found herself driving one late afternoon. She had called in advance, and asked if she could stay the night. Her father, eager as always to have his only child home, of course said yes. Evie was grateful. She knew they kept a room just for her at their house; an ‘Evie’ room.<br /><br />“No matter where you go you can always find home with your Ayah and Ibu,” Mr. Hakimi said when they had first moved in there. The room was, much to Evie’s amusement, pretty much the same as her old room from before she got married, before she grew up. It was still painted a soft shade of pink, and the Ikea bed and furniture were still irritatingly cute and girly. The funny thing was that the decorations and equipment were the choice of her father; perhaps it was true then, that daughters, in one way or the other, never stop being daddy’s little girls.<br /><br />Her parents are, to her, the most perfect human beings ever. Her father was straight, sharp and seemed tough, but only Evie knew how gentle and kind the man was, especially with her. Evie’s mother was likewise; tender and kind hearted, and funny to boot, although Evie did and will always remember her mother as the more <span style="font-style: italic;">‘garang’</span> of the two. They were like yin and yang, duality. She was their only child; when she was about nine years old, however, she learned from them that she should have had an older brother named Ezra, but he was born prematurely and did not survive.<br /><br />Evie loved her parents to death. <span style="font-style: italic;">As it should be, </span>she thought. And her love for her Ayah and Ibu was never clearer than when Rafar divorced her. She remembered how supportive they were, and how they did not become petty and hate Rafar or condemn him. Mr. Hakimi was very displeased, of course; but he also did not deny Fate. Her father was a source of great strength that time, and her mother the greatest comfort.<br /><br />It was them who had helped Evie through the divorce; they had lent a shoulder to cry on, ears to talk to and a home to come back to. Her father had offered her to come stay with them, but Evie thought she should be independent. She did, however, promise to visit often.<br /><br />And she kept that promise; she visited them at least a couple of times a month, driving from Kuala Lumpur to Shah Alam, as she is doing now. In her white Golf she brought a change of clothes, though she knew the cabinet in her room was well stacked. She also brought a chocolate cheesecake for her father. As she pulled in the driveway of their house she saw her father tending to his orchid garden. It was somewhat his passion lately: he kept orchids of different kinds and colors.<br /><br />Evie killed the engine and stepped out; she was dressed casually in a pink t-shirt and comfortable, billowy white pants.<br /><br />“Ayah,” she called out, smiling in the late afternoon sun. “Isn’t it too early to start tending to your flower-patch?”<br /><br />Her father slipped off the gardening gloves he had on; he was dressed in a comical mix of a Pagoda t-shirt, denim shorts and a cheap rubber slippes, with a wide brimmed straw hat perched on his head. His face was deep and thoughtful, but the eyebrows made him look kindly. His eyes were the same bright eyes Evie had.<br /><br />“First of all, it’s an orchid garden, not a flower patch,” he said as he walked towards his daughter. “Secondly, why are you so <span style="font-style: italic;">sibuk</span> as to what I do as a hobby?”<br /><br />“Oh please,” Evie said. “Admit it: you were waiting for me, isn’t that right? Miss your daughter much?”<br /><br />Her father made a grim face and nodded. “Just a little bit. How are you honey?”<br /><br />Evie salam-ed her father and kissed his cheeks. “I'm okay. I brought chocolate cheesecake. Your favorite.”<br /><br />“Wah, good, good. Now go inside before you burn your skin.” This was a joke he always mentioned to her because of her fair skin, even if it was no longer funny. “Your mother is cooking dinner.”<br /><br />He went back to tending his orchids as Evie took the cake and her bag inside. She shouted “HAH!!!” and surprised her mother who was in the kitchen, and got scolded as a result.<br /><br />Evie laughed and apologized and <span style="font-style: italic;">salam-ed</span> and hugged and kissed her mother, who was still babbling. Her mother was cooking her favorites: Asam Pedas Ikan Pari, fried chicken, stir-fried vegetables with oyster sauce, sambal belachan and cool, fresh cucumbers. Evie offered to help and her mother told her to prepare the chicken.<br /><br />“So,” said Mrs. Nadzrah as the two of them prepared the food. “How have you been dear? Busy?”<br /><br />Evie nodded as she cut the chicken into small pieces. “A little.”<br /><br />“Are you alright? You look tired. Are you worried about something? Haven’t you had enough sleep? Have you been eating well? Are you ill?”<br /><br />“Ibu, I'm fine,” Evie said. Her mother looked at her and raised an eyebrow. “I'm a bit stressed with work, is all.”<br /><br />“Ah,” said Mrs. Nadzrah. “Alright. How’s it going with Adam?”<br /><br />Evie paused for a moment. Her eyes seemed to drift away. When she had first started going out with Adam, she had told her mother about it. And when it seemed that things were going great with him, her mother said she was thankful that Evie was seeing people and that this ‘Adam boy’ seems like a really nice guy.<br /><br />Mrs. Nadzrah has always been worried about Evie; ever since the divorce she has been trying to make Evie at least date again, and though Evie has done so to an extent, this Adam fellow seemed the most promising, and more importantly, Evie was always happy when she talked about him. Mrs. Nadzrah sensed her daughter liked the man, a lot.<br /><br />“Evie?”<br /><br />Evie snapped out of her momentary trance. “Hm?”<br /><br />“I asked you, how are things with Adam?”<br /><br />“Oh. Oh, they’re okay...” Evie trailed off. She did not feel like divulging the subject, at least not yet. “So what have you and Ayah been up to?”<br /><br />Mrs. Nadzrah accepted the rebuke and the change of subject, thought she suspected Evie was troubled. But soon mother and daughter were chatting away about what was new and what was rumored; typical, harmless, amusing mother-daughter talk. Mrs. Nadzrah complained about Mr. Hakimi, and Evie would defend her Ayah. Mrs. Nadzrah would then say how much of a daddy’s girl Evie is, and Evie would say she learned from the best: Ibu. And so they went on talking and cooking, until Evie excused herself to take a shower before dinner.<br /><br />Evie stepped inside her room and closed the door behind her. As always whenever she slept over at her parent’s, she scanned the room; aside from its layout, it was almost exactly like it was so long ago. Even her old, almost decade old pink Sony laptop was on her desk. She felt like a giddy nineteen-year old being in such a <span style="font-style: italic;">youthful</span> room.<br /><br />But a quick glance to the dressing table mirror dispelled any such thoughts; the woman in the mirror was clearly older; the eyes still bright but no longer sparkling and eager. It was a woman who, at thirty, has learned quite a lot. Evie took a shower and afterwards spent about half an hour lying wrapped in a towel on the single bed with its purple sheets. Then she flipped open her old laptop. It was slow and a bit ‘wheezy’, but she was just curious to see if her old pictures were still in there…<br /><br />They were. All (Evie glanced at the stats below the window) 3356 pictures. She opened the folders one by one: Family, Friends, and Stuff. And then she came upon her once most cherished folder: ‘Sugar+Wiseguy’. She hovered the cursor above that folder, thinking over in her head if she should open it and look at the photos. Finally she just sighed and closed the lid of laptop (which creaked, much to her annoyance). She got dressed and performed her prayers. When she got out of her room she saw her mother and father praying, so she went down to see most of the lauk was already on the table. In her house, dinner was always taken early. It was already evening, and the sun was setting on the far horizon.<br /><br />Evie strolled around inside the house; it was all so familiar from her younger days. The sofa set was still the same as it was since years ago, although it had been reupholstered. The curtains were the same, and the dinner table and chairs were the same as well. What was new to their household was an aquarium with colorful tropical fish. But the carpets, the decorations, even the pictures hanging on the walls were all familiar. They spelled out, in loud, colorful and comfortable letters to Evie: <span style="font-style: italic;">H-O-M-E.</span> Later her parents came down and Evie helped her mother serve dinner.<br /><br />They ate together, and for a ridiculously childish reason and inside joke, Mr. Hakimi forced Evie to read the doa makan before they dug in. Evie laughed the moment she finished, and her father was grinning. He spooned Evie her rice and offered to serve her the lauk on the table.<br /><br />“Ayah! Thank you so much but I'm not nine years old!” Evie said. But her father insisted. It occurred to her then just how much he missed having her around, and Evie made a mental note to her self to visit more often than the usual once or twice a week. She supposed her parents were bored with no one else in the house. The three of them had their dinner, and Evie thought nothing tasted better than her own mother’s cooking.<br /><br />She ate a lot; her belly felt like bursting, although to an outside observer, there was barely a discernible change in her physique. After dinner she took out the chocolate cheesecake and cut out a large portion for her father and mother, and only a little bit for her self. Normally she would have had a bit more, but tonight was one of those rare occasions when she refused sweets.<br /><br />They talked a bit more and had some tea, and then Evie’s father said he wanted to catch a football game on television, and her mother wanted to watch some television.<br /><br />“Evie, get some rest. Go to bed early and sleep. You look very tired, Yang,” her mother said. As Mrs. Nadzrah got up she put a hand on her daughter’s shoulder and squeezed. Evie smiled and nodded. For a while she sat there nursing her rapidly cooling cup of tea. Her mother had noticed how tired she looked, thanks (or no thanks) to her lack of sleep and her tons of work. So she decided that tonight she would heed her mother’s advice and get adequate rest. So she went up to her room, closed the door, turned off the lights and lay down on her bed.<br /><br />Except she could not sleep. She kept thinking about Rafar and Adam. Their images came alternating in her thoughts; the recent ones with Adam, and the more mellowed, aged but no less wonderful ones of the times she had with Rafar. She felt it odd that ever since the day Rafar broke down in tears in front of her, she no longer thought about the bad times. That is to say, she no longer thought about the divorce and the bitterness that had ensued. No; instead now, only the sweetest memories came snowballing in her head.<br /><br />She turned on the bedside lamp and grabbed her old laptop. She was slightly amazed it was still working at all. She turned it on and immediately opened her pictures folder, and the folder titled ‘Sugar+Wiseguy’. There were about 1600 pictures in that folder. Most were of her and Rafar together, in various sweet and memorable situations.<br /><br />For example, there was one picture, taken using a cell phone at the time they just began dating, that showed the two of making faces into the camera. Evie smiled at the photograph, and part of her was amazed that the picture was about ten years old. She clicked on another thumbnail, bringing up another photograph. This time it was a photograph of Rafar, again taken using a cell phone. In that picture he was looking straight into the camera, his smile lazy and relaxed, his dark eyes calm and shaded beneath the messy crop of hair.<br /><br />Evie made a mental comparison of the Rafar in this picture and the one she had seen some weeks ago: in ten years he has not changed at all. Not by much anyway. Evie tried to place this smiling young man in the picture with the crying, thin man she saw; they did not correlate. Despite the obvious similarities, to Evie it was as if she was looking at two entirely different people.<br /><br />She sighed and browsed through more photographs, including the one photograph that had sent Rafar on his study trip to Japan, the same one that had convinced Evie eleven years ago that <a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2007/12/sugar-goes-online.html">Rafar was truly in love with her</a>. It was the portrait of her. Evie studied it, and just as she could not parallel the Rafar of old with the current one, she found herself detached from the image, despite it was her, just eleven years younger.<br /><br />In that beautifully taken picture, her hair was longer and she wore spectacles; her face was thinner, the cheekbones more prominent. Evie found it hard to believe that was her at all. But when she clicked on to the next photograph, she knew just how far along she’s come from those days when she was young and full of ambition.<br /><br />This next photograph was of the two of them during their first anniversary; Evie remembered it well. They were at a fancy restaurant and Rafar had propped his camera on a mini tripod (that he had comically forced Evie to carry inside her handbag) in front of them to take the picture. In it, he was sat slightly behind her. Though the picture did not show it, Evie remembered Rafar had one arm around her waist. They put their cheeks together in that photograph and both of them smiled at the camera, their faces full of joy and of promise.<br /><br />Evie sighed. She felt a thickening in her throat and realized she was about to cry. She browsed through more photographs: Rafar and Evie holding hands; Rafar wearing a silly novelty hat; Rafar and Evie sharing a banana split; Evie with her eyes crossed; Evie with her chin on Rafar’s shoulder; all these pictures opened the floodgates and Evie began to weep, out of both, sadness and happiness for those memories. Evie clicked through more photographs. She did not know if this would count as self-torture.<br /><br />She came upon a set of pictures that were uploaded about a month and a half before their divorce. How happy they looked, so blissfully unaware of what their future held for them back then. She browsed through that set, and came across the last picture they ever took together. It was a portrait of them in black and white; in it, Rafar’s gaze was cast downwards, and the shadows and light brought out his features; Evie was kissing his cheek, her eyes closed. Evie remembered that Rafar said he wanted to print that out and frame it.<br /><br />It never came to pass.<br /><br />She cursed her luck. Why, of all times, must this happen now? Why did this not happen maybe a few months earlier, or perhaps two years ago, when she was in a less compromised situation? Maybe she would feel less confused. But now two men were clearly very much in love with her. Was it a choice she would have to make? She did not feel like making any despite the fact she knew that the day would come when she will simply have to, by hook or by crook. But she could not bear to think which one would she hurt when that day comes.<br /><br />She also had her self to think about, because above all, she wanted to be happy. But happiness it seems comes at a price. And who would think that it could be so complicated… and yet so simple. Evie probed the depths of heart, trying to dig out a clue as to where her true feelings lie. She found no answer. Instead she just found more questions to ask.<br /><br />Evie closed the lid of the laptop and cried. The last time she felt this vulnerable was four years ago when Rafar divorced her. She had wept and mourned. She thought Rafar was cruel and heartless, leaving her like that. At one point she even thought she would hate him for life. But now she realized that she has never hated the man for what he did. She was angry and hurt, yes. But she has never hated Rafar. Not once. She remembered after the divorce she had spent day after day just wishing, praying for him to return to her. She had missed him terribly, painfully that time.<br /><br />As, much to her surprise, she found herself now: missing Rafar. For the first time in a few years she was admitting to herself that she missed being in his arms; she missed the touch of lips on hers, and the way he would wake her up in the mornings with a kiss to her cheek...<br /><br />Evie took out a small notepad from her bag and a pencil. She began to write a note, though she never intended anyone to ever see it:<br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">(please click image to view the note)</span><br /></span></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO-4JF9AYMASG2ud81My2PI3O9HeZUYiepGfn9tth7S2srzMfM48QE_AuMgJg1pOv2wyCXJ5Jfe6tX_jkHQ0O0JxleKLAQRD5bniswTCaVEdurNasCUoqOWgiVHwiaI2Vn_JCF1U1IBno/s1600-h/notacinta.bmp"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 367px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO-4JF9AYMASG2ud81My2PI3O9HeZUYiepGfn9tth7S2srzMfM48QE_AuMgJg1pOv2wyCXJ5Jfe6tX_jkHQ0O0JxleKLAQRD5bniswTCaVEdurNasCUoqOWgiVHwiaI2Vn_JCF1U1IBno/s400/notacinta.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307205940372364866" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" ><br />(please click image to view the note)</span><br /><br /><br />--------<br /><br /><span style="font-size: 78%; color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"><span style="font-style: italic;" class="story_comment">Your voice was the soundtrack of my summer</span></span><br /><span style="font-size: 78%; color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"><span style="font-style: italic;" class="story_comment">Do you know you're unlike any other?</span></span><br /><span style="font-size: 78%; color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"><span style="font-style: italic;" class="story_comment">You'll always be my thunder, and I said</span></span><br /><span style="font-size: 78%; color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"><span style="font-style: italic;" class="story_comment"></span></span><br /><span style="font-size: 78%; color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"><span style="font-style: italic;" class="story_comment">Your eyes are the brightest of all the colors</span></span><br /><span style="font-size: 78%; color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"><span style="font-style: italic;" class="story_comment">I don't wanna ever love another</span></span><br /><span style="font-size: 78%; color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"><span style="font-style: italic;" class="story_comment">You'll always be my thunder</span></span><br /><span style="font-size: 78%; color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"><span style="font-style: italic;" class="story_comment"></span></span><br /><span style="font-size: 78%; color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"><span style="font-style: italic;" class="story_comment">So bring on the rain, And bring on the thunder</span></span><br /><br />----------<br /></div><br /><br /><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7420985887871930530.post-91888782518563256532009-02-22T14:16:00.000-08:002009-02-23T11:36:08.268-08:00Evie. Rafar. Adam.<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:78%;">------------</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">please leave feedback,<br />i'd appreciate it.<br />:)<br /></span><br />------------<br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgRlArEsCiXmlL9H6xnHkXo0_zs1-RTm_mmd9Sj_5TDFtvusZWFqH-7zsTgaVvsyzUZes54E-z9M0Yat52ce_F7v87YtTFaHFonLs4IG4NTZPR3HtqII-CDMc2D4kvrt5rWmXZXEt_pp8/s1600-h/lovestory.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgRlArEsCiXmlL9H6xnHkXo0_zs1-RTm_mmd9Sj_5TDFtvusZWFqH-7zsTgaVvsyzUZes54E-z9M0Yat52ce_F7v87YtTFaHFonLs4IG4NTZPR3HtqII-CDMc2D4kvrt5rWmXZXEt_pp8/s320/lovestory.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305749294446308562" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><u>Evie</u></span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: right; font-style: italic;"><br />Where do I begin?<br />To tell a story of how great a love can be,<br />The sweet love story that is older than the sea,<br />The simple truth about the love you bring to me.<br />Where do I start?<br /></div><br /><br />Evie was at her office, and she was not feeling too good.<br /><br />She felt terrible in fact; she felt this physical sickness that made her head hurt and her stomach churn; she felt this emotional pain in the well of her heart that pierced through her like a jagged knife; she felt a dull mental throbbing of a matter pressing inside her thoughts.<br /><br />Perhaps she could explain the physical pain; she has not slept particularly well this past week. During nights she would toss and turn, and she would wake up sweating despite the cool air-conditioning. Often her pillow would be wet to the touch, suggesting she had wept during her sleep. She knew she did, anyway. This unrest, coupled with a sudden heavy workload at her office, was straining her. She had little appetite this past week, and that was unusual for her, a well know big eater. Her receptionist, a demure girl named Alya, who Evie was close to and already thought of as a younger sister, had noticed how tired she looked and asked her if she was okay.<br /><br />“It’s just a lot of work Alya, I'm alright,” Evie lied.<br /><br />“Are you sure Kak Evie? You look awful, sorry to say so. Is there anything I can do to help?” Alya had asked.<br /><br />Evie had put a hand on her shoulder, smiled and said, “It’s alright, and call me Evie. I feel old when you call me Kak.” Alya had left her looking not quite satisfied, but Evie did not want to trouble the girl with her own affairs. It was her battle to fight. Evie sat at her desk, barely concentrating on the job at hand. She took a big gulp of coffee that was already cold.<br /><br />Now if the unrest and loss of appetite accounted for her physical wear, the mental and emotional aches she was experiencing were of another matter entirely. She knew the matter at hand, yet she did not know. She was not sure, but she was already so certain. See? She was not even making sense to herself. In her head she went over the same inferences, hypotheses and conclusions, trying to foresee all possible scenarios and predict any outcome. But still she got nowhere. Still her mind and emotions were swirling in a perpetual storm, cloudy and murky and showing no signs of settling down.<br /><br />But was it not simple enough? Rafar had broken down in front of her a week ago, telling her just how much he missed her, and Evie was sure he was going to say that he still loves her. And, to make matters more interesting, that very same day Rafar went all sincere and teary eyed with her, Adam decided it was high time to proclaim how he felt towards her; indeed, his saying of the three words ‘I love you’ was no surprise to Evie, in fact prior to that day she was anticipating it. And yet, when the time finally came, she was at lost for words, and she was only able to feign sickness. The fact that sincerity and honesty and just pure simple love had radiated off Adam’s words somehow made it more complicated.<br /><br />Here she was, feeling like she was on a tightrope with both ends on fire above a million mile deep gorge, and the only way to save herself was to reach for one of the ends in time before they burned through. But which end to grab on to? She did not know.<br /><br />Evie worked on autonomy, doing things without thinking. She was angry with herself for feeling so perplexed and confused. She was angry because she thought she was past the past; she thought she had moved on, strong and full of the will to forget a time she was hurt and vulnerable. But suddenly, in an hour-long conversation saturated with tears, her convictions were shaken.<br /><br />Rafar, her once eternal lover and ex-husband, was clearly still desperately in love with her, and how convenient was it that he came to realize this at the very moment Evie thought her life was finally heading in a good forward direction? And then there was Adam; fun, charming, sweet Adam who is now in love with her as well; how unfair would this be to him, after all the time they’ve spent getting to know each other? Hell, Evie herself was so sure their relationship was blossoming into something else. Evie had counted on it, had bet on it, had waited for it. She wanted to love him, but suddenly she was unsure.<br /><br />This past week she has not seen Adam; she was busy, no lie there, but she also thought she would be better off if she did not see him this week. It was selfish of her, but in truth she could not bear to see Adam’s face light up with hope each time he saw her and took her hands in his. She did not want to diminish the expectation he clearly kept. She thought if he did not expect anything, then it would be more unlikely for her to hurt him.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Why am I feeling this? Just because he shows up crying on your doorstep? Evie, get a grip! </span>But she knew it was something more than that. She could not deny how special Rafar was to her… and also how special Adam has become to her. One she had loved and died for, the other she wanted to love and live for.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">What is going on with me? It’s not like I’ve been faced with a choice, right? Rafar did not say anything. Adam just said he loved me. Am I at some sort of crossroad? Do I have to decide? Do I have to make a choice? </span>No, maybe she didn’t. On the other hand, why else would Adam tell her how he felt? And why else would Rafar suddenly turn up and profess just how much he longed for her, and that was it, wasn’t it: he longed for her?<br /><br />Evie felt the very foundations she had tried to re-build her life on were shaken. Her heart and head felt so confused, so upended. What happened to her resolve and her desire to live again after her separation from Rafar? She thought she had promised herself she would no longer be ‘Sugar’, but she would be ‘Evie Nadia’. But now she could not fathom what she was supposed to do.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Rafar. Adam. Adam. Rafar. What do you two want from me?!!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">AND WHY IS THIS MESSING ME UP! I SHOULDN’T FEEL THIS WAY! </span>Evie yelled in her mind. She glanced at the clock on her desk and saw it was fifteen minutes to five; she decided to call it a day and just leave.<br /><br /><br />-------------------<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><u>Rafar</u></span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: right; font-style: italic;"><br /><div style="text-align: right;">Like a summer rain,<br />That cools the pavement with a patent leather shine,<br />You came into my life and made the living fine.<br />And gave new meaning to this empty world of mine,<br />You fill my heart…<br /></div></div><br /><br />“Alright… and… we’re done!” Rafar said as he fired of the last shot of the day. He was in the studio, doing a magazine fashion spread. The model in front of him was a tall Punjabi girl with the clearest grey eyes and the body of a Greek goddess. But Rafar had barely noticed her beauty, and he had directed the shoot with clinical detachment, his mood objective and passionless.<br /><br />About an hour and a half later he left the studio with his gear and headed straight to a nasi campur restaurant. There he had rice with stir-fried bean sprouts, chicken curry, half a salted egg and some sambal, washing it all down with a glass of soya milk. But the taste of the food was like the photo shoot; detached, meaningless, empty.<br /><br />It was just a necessity, just another thing to do on, just part of his routine. Life, for him, had become just that.<br /><br />He would wake up before dawn, and after Subuh prayers he would drive to his studio or lab or whatever location he had to be at for the day. Then he would do whatever it was he was commissioned to do; a magazine spread, an advertisement, a wedding, an award ceremony.<br /><br />It was all the same thing. Arrive, prepare, shoot, leave. When he got hungry, like just now, he had a meal. If he was tired he asked for a fifteen-minute break where he would just sit down and shut his eyes. At the end of the day, he would go home, just like he was doing now, shower afresh, watch some television or read a book or more likely do post-processing, and go to bed as early as he could, which, unfortunately for him, was almost always about 0200. Then he would wake up again and repeat the entire process the next day.<br /><br />If Evie was distracted from work, Rafar seemed, to his clients anyway, focused. But only he knew that it was not focus, but just the fact he’s been doing it for so long. He felt robotic, programmed to do the same job well over and over again.<br /><br />Robots, however, did not waste away like he had. Despite eating regular meals, something was definitely wrong with his metabolism. He’s lost a lot of weight this past few months. His jeans had gone down two sizes, and his clothes hung looser on his frame. People had pointed it out, of course. Evie had pointed it out. He had promised Evie he would take care of himself, but why should he? He did not know how. Evie knew. If Evie were with him, she would take care of him.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I miss her! </span>Rafar thought as he sat slumped on his sofa, his chin almost to his chest. He felt pathetic. He felt like he was a character in some awful romance story published in an online serial, who was dying because he could not have the one he truly loved. How melodramatic. He also felt like a stupid jerk. His current predicament was his own doing. He had no one to blame but him self. Maybe he deserved to be miserable after all.<br /><br />Last week he was struck by a bout of longing and yearning so strong he decided to try his luck and just show up at Evie’s office building. She was, of course. And he had made her listen to him, even if he thought she had done so more out of sympathy for his pitiful state rather than a genuine concern. But it was okay; the important thing was she had listened. In truth Rafar was himself unsure what he would say to her that day. He had ended up breaking down like a sissy. To his surprise Evie, too, had cried with him.<br /><br />Rafar had tried to say he loved her when a phone interrupted their conversation. And then he had noticed a look of concern cross her face when she had looked at her phone, and he knew Evie was seeing someone else. His heart had faltered, but he did not say. What could he say anyway? She was not his. Not anymore. But when Evie had hugged him as they bid goodbye Rafar felt a fire ignite within him.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I want her again,</span> Rafar thought. <span style="font-style: italic;">If only she could see I want her, and I have wanted her all this time, and that I will not make the same mistake I did before. Maybe then…</span><br /><br />Perhaps there is hope? But he would not be betting on hope. Hope was brittle. It could easily be broken with even the slightest misplaced touch. He had already made the foolish mistake of being pretentious and assuming before. He did not want to make another mistake that would lead him further away from having Evie again.<br /><br /><br />------------------------<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><u>Adam</u></span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: right; font-style: italic;"><br />You fill my heart with very special things,<br />With angel songs and wild imaginings.<br />You fill my soul with so much love,<br />That everywhere I go I'm never lonely,<br />With you along who could be lonely?<br />I reach for your hand; it’s always there…<br /></div><br /><br />He has not seen Evie for a week now. She told him she was swamped with work, and also that she was a bit under the weather, and Adam had no reason to doubt her. Still, he wanted to see her so badly.<br /><br />But alas, he too, had work to do. After all, a restaurant was not going to run by itself. Luna at Bangsar was enjoying a good start, with good customers coming in to dine and so far, feedback has been positive. Adam had been worried; it was his first time opening a restaurant. But half a year on, he was confident Luna would be a success.<br /><br />He had spent years dedicated to his career, culminating in Luna. Most of that dedication stemmed from the fact he lost a beautiful fiancé to illness some time ago, so he had buried himself in work as a way of mourning. He thought the day he saw Luna make him a wealthy man would be the day he can put his mourning to rest.<br /><br />Until, of course, that fateful day when a simply lovely woman had showed up at his restaurant. Though he has never told Evie this, he was stunned the first time he clapped his eyes on her. At the time he could almost hear the gears of Fate grinding, turning luck in his favor. When Evie had left the restaurant, Adam knew he just had to see her again.<br /><br />So he had put on a thick face and surprised her with coffee right at her office building. Thank God for business cards. Much to his delight, he and Evie had hit if off almost immediately. She was charming and sweet, funny without being overtly so. It was as if she was tailor made for him. Adam thought Evie was the most beautiful woman he has ever seen, or ever would see. He did not care that she had been married once; that was the past.<br /><br />When his fiancé passed away, some part of him was convinced he would not love again. But with Evie, that conviction began to erode and falter bit by bit, as sure as a river that runs through the mountains, cutting paths into the earth. Maybe, what, three, four months? Maybe it was a little quick to be falling in love, but damn it if he was not sure about it. In fact he felt so sure about it. There was this purity he felt between them; words unspoken. Adam was almost sure that Evie was simply waiting for him too say those three sacred words.<br /><br />He thought he had timed it well. After that incredibly romantic, unreal moment they had shared on the beach, he knew for sure how he felt. And he was 100% certain she felt the same way and was just waiting for him to be the gentleman and say it first. So he did. He had imagined Evie’s eyes would water and she would hold him close and whisper the same words he said.<br /><br />Instead, the night he said it, she had claimed she was not feeling too well. On the upside, she had hugged him, had kissed his cheek even, but Adam knew then that something was amiss. Why else would she suddenly avoid the issue?<br /><br />Adam sighed. He was in his office at the restaurant; it was evening and his staff was busy preparing for dinner service. He felt like calling Evie but decided against it. He had already called earlier today, and indeed she sounded unwell and tired, her voice strained and weak.<br /><br />“Hey, I miss you,” he had said earlier. Silence greeted him for a few seconds.<br /><br />“I miss you too Adam…” Evie said.<br /><br />“When can I see you?”<br /><br />“Soon. I'm sorry, I'm just swamped with work and I'm kinda not well. I’ll call you, okay?”<br /><br />Adam had said okay and unconsciously he had waited for the call; but it never came. He told himself not to be foolish and expect her to call straight away.<br /><br />So he went to work. If Evie was distracted and Rafar was focused, Adam was as passionate as ever at his restaurant. He was a hands-on sort of boss, bustling about in the kitchen, helping staff, scolding staff, making sure everything was running smoothly. When, after lunch service, he received positive feedback and compliments from the guests, he had felt incredibly proud. He thanked and congratulated his team of chefs and he retired to his office.<br /><br />There he made calls and checked his finances and statements and stock inventory. He printed out a working timetable, setting shifts and planning menus. He was engrossed in it, paying meticulous attention to detail to every aspect of his business. He wanted Luna to be not just financially successful for him, but also emotionally and mentally gratifying. He wanted it to be a beacon, a shining symbol of his hard work.<br /><br />And now that he was on his way, he could only think that he wanted to share this with somebody, and he wanted that somebody to be Evie Nadia Hakimi.<br /><br />As sure and as certain as the sun brings day and the moon brings forth night, Adam was in love with Evie Nadia.<br /><br /><br />--------------------<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><u>Evie/Rafar/Adam</u></span><br /><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-style: italic;">How long does it last?</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Can love be measured by the hours in a day?</span><br /></div><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /></span>Later in the day.<br /><br />Now Evie was home, having showered and changed into more comfortable clothes, and she was lying down on her sofa. She had just taken some painkillers and drank a whole bottle of water. She felt tired. When she had reached home she thought of calling Adam. Or maybe Rafar. Adam, actually. But how was Rafar doing?<br /><br />In the end she called neither of them, though she expected Adam to drop her a line later. She thought of Adam. He deserved to know something at least, did he not? Evie thought it was unfair if she kept quiet about her conflicting emotions. If Adam loved her, then the least she could do is to tell him to give her a bit of time to think. Evie wanted to give him a chance. She also knew if she were to go ahead with Adam, she wanted herself to have a clear conscience. She did not want to start being serious with someone if she herself was not so sure about what she really felt.<br /><br />Again the thought angered her. This was not supposed to be difficult. Things were going wonderfully between Adam and her until Rafar showed up looking like he just got off a sinking ship; and the sight of her ex-husband looking so in need of care and attention had broke through whatever barrier she had put up in her heart.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">What should I do?</span> Evie asked herself.<br /><br />Meanwhile, in another part of Kuala Lumpur, Rafar sat in front of his iMac, importing the photographs he had taken today. Again, he was on autopilot: he was barely aware of what he was doing despite the fact that, to an outsider, he seemed precise and sure of his actions.<br /><br />Rafar thought of calling Evie, but then he thought: what for? He supposed Evie was out somewhere with a new friend, and he did not want to interfere anymore.<br /><br />He was in a bad mood. He felt like a drunk, drowning in the bottle and singing odes to a dead memory. He hated being alone in his apartment at times like this because the memory of Evie Nadia popped up everywhere he looked.<br /><br />In his mind, a memory of the best times he had spent with her played on an infinite loop. The memories came to him like an old video recording, with scratch lines and grain, the camera angles jittery and unstable, and there was no sound, and it seemed like it was speeded up. He saw himself not through his own eyes, but through the eyes of an outsider who knew what he had just let go, like a child looking tearfully at an old toy Mother decided was too dirty to keep anymore.<br /><br />Oh my God, will you STOP dwelling on your mistakes, you miserable excuse for a man! He thought. But although he tried he could not. And he did not want to. Because to him, right now in one of his darkest hours, all he ever wanted was the past, and what the past had brought him.<br /><br />“I want Evie back with me,” he said out loud to himself.<br /><br />In Bangsar, unfortunately, or fortunately, depending on how you look at it, the dinner service at Luna tonight was running slowly. Adam decided to leave the kitchen and made his sous-chef run the show for the night. He changed into his regular clothes and left Bangsar. On his drive home he rang Evie on her phone.<br /><br />“Hello baby,” he said when she answered.<br /><br />“Hello, hi.”<br /><br />Adam listened, trying to detect if she was still ill, but to no avail. “Hey, how are you feeling?”<br /><br />A silence. “I'm okay I guess. I just took some Panadol and was lying down, being a potato.”<br /><br />“Oh, I'm sorry I bothered you…”<br /><br />“It’s alright. Are you at home?”<br /><br />“I'm on the way. I thought I wanted to see you tonight, but you’re not too good are you? That’s fine then.”<br /><br />“Uhuh…”<br /><br />Silence. Then she said, “Adam, I'm sorry.”<br /><br />Adam tried to keep his voice neutral. “What for?”<br /><br />“Well,” Evie said on the line. “I’ve just been too swamped and tired and not feeling too good, and it’s been a week since we last saw each other, and-“<br /><br />Adam cut her off. “Hey, baby, it’s alright, it’s alright. It’s not your fault, so you don’t have to apologize, okay?”<br /><br />“Uhm.. Okay. I promise I’ll see you as soon as I get better or my workload lightens up; whichever comes first. We’ll have dinner, maybe a movie?”<br /><br />“That sounds great. Listen, I'm driving actually. I’ll call you back?”<br /><br />“Sure. Take care Adam.”<br /><br />“Evie?”<br /><br />“Yes?”<br /><br />“… Nothing. I miss seeing you is all.”<br /><br />There was another silence on the line. Adam did not like it, but what could he do?<br /><br />“I miss you too Adam. I really do,” Evie said. Then they said their goodbyes and hung up.<br /><br /><br />----------------------<br /><br /><br />As soon as Adam hung up the phone Evie bit her lip and suddenly burst into tears. It was an odd defense mechanism that was triggered whenever she felt overwhelmed: she would just break down crying. She suddenly felt so wrong about her mixed emotions. She felt that this was happening too quickly. How can she go from being so sure of what she wanted to being suddenly conflicted? Was it really going to come down between a choice between Adam and Rafar? She was not sure. Right now she felt like she did not want to know. Evie felt weak and foolish. She felt like she was giving something uncertain to both Adam and Rafar.<br /><br />Rafar had finished importing the photos and sat at his desk, leaning back on his chair. He gazed into empty space, his mind distant and adrift. He thought maybe he should go out, have some fun. But where on earth would he go? Who would he meet? It did not matter. He would still be thinking of Evie. He could not escape from it now. His longing for her grew bigger and bigger with each passing moment. All he could think of, and all he wished for right now, was for Evie to have him back and love him like she used to. All he yearned for at the moment was to be with her, to make love to her, and for all this to be forgiven if not forgotten. But yearning was a dangerous thing; it made one hope for something that might never ever be attained again.<br /><br />Adam reached home and thought of calling Evie again. He could not help it. He reached for his phone, dialed the number but immediately pressed the end button before the call got through. He should not appear so desperate. He was disappointed, of course. Maybe he should have gone a bit a slower, and waited for a better time to say he was in love with Evie. Maybe by saying it he seemed too eager and made her scared. After all, she had been married before, and her husband had left her, right? So maybe that was it: she was just scared. Well if so, Adam thought, then I'm going to show her that she need not be scared. I will love her until the end of my time on this world. I will promise her that. And I will keep it.<br /><br />These three people, in different places around Kuala Lumpur, sat alone in their houses, pondering their situations. One of was unsure of her own present; another was yearning for something he let go in the past and fears he lost, and the other was adamant that he will build a wonderful future. As these three people sat by themselves, they were unaware that at one almost precise moment, all three of them spoke the same sentence out loud:<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">“I want to be with you.”</span><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;"><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I have no answers now but this much I can say,</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I know I’ll need you until the stars all burn away;</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">And you’ll be there…<br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><br />---------------</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></div><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-size:85%;" ><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></span><div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(153, 153, 153);"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><blockquote><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-size:85%;" ><span style="font-style: italic;">the verses are from the song 'Where Do I Begin?' as sung by Shirley Bassey, and slightly modified. the song is from the movie 'Love Story', a huge influence on Talking With An Alternate You.</span></span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"></span><br /></blockquote></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-size:85%;" ><br />--------<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">this took me three hours to write, wth.</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">it's a bit messy. sorry.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">- edwan</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">------</span><br /></span></div><span style="color: rgb(153, 153, 153);font-size:85%;" ><br /></span><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7420985887871930530.post-9687810026467804282009-02-16T17:30:00.000-08:002009-02-18T21:36:05.749-08:00Over Coffee/Briefly At KLCC<span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >---------</span></span><br /></div><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" ><br /></span></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" ><blockquote><div style="text-align: left;">to all readers; please leave feedback regarding this particular episode if you could: it's valuable and i would greatly appreciate it.<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;">- edwan</div></blockquote></span></span></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">-----------------<br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCG0VB3M1I5XGuaTSkaeOoQnQMLFSNrfpgekLE9mwW-y7RMnIFgndzKfNmw99ouX8ExBUec8JMDdukqBAgJOki9YyNCohmnjQDDvYoXwf9W-Ali4tPuKQ1c-OwvVPgSO3hlApNYLGdB3I/s1600-h/coffeeklcc.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 251px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCG0VB3M1I5XGuaTSkaeOoQnQMLFSNrfpgekLE9mwW-y7RMnIFgndzKfNmw99ouX8ExBUec8JMDdukqBAgJOki9YyNCohmnjQDDvYoXwf9W-Ali4tPuKQ1c-OwvVPgSO3hlApNYLGdB3I/s400/coffeeklcc.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303579232036633346" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5rOzXCT2QMAvLtI2Roz2Dd_gILEp_KWQTYkHd-b_Sd1gl8zbKmPTsSaGldXvGKka_9SpXIE48F1ovZYG66NRuUa3g9FhqrrVWNaJf-F98W3gQs1ES6wFJPvkkVsq3vQyhMz1zXr5txSg/s1600-h/40001562_26524325bb_o.jpg"></a><div style="text-align: justify;">She sat there drinking a smoothie, her eyes fixated on Rafar. He looked undernourished, thin and just plain tired. There were dark circles beneath his eyes that even the plastic rimmed glasses he wore could not hide. <span style="font-style: italic;">How long has it been since they last met? Was it two or three months? How could he have gone from healthy to this? He must have been starving himself, Evie wondered.</span><br /><br />“I know how I look,” he said gently when he noticed that she was staring at him.<br /><br />“No, it’s not… oh what the hell, yes it is. You look awful,” Evie said, not bothering to hide what she thought.<br /><br />He took a swig of his coffee. They were at the café down at the office building Evie worked at. The very same café Adam had waited for her at the first time he chatted her up. How different are the circumstances; if it was a cheerful and charming new friend before, now it is her thin and ill looking ex-husband. Despite her recent disassociation from him, Evie’s heart could not help but reach out. She felt like she wanted to hold him in her arms and ask him what’s wrong and tell him things were going to be alright, though she did not say it out loud. At the same time she was vaguely uneasy. Mixed emotions were perhaps the best way of describing how she felt right now.<br /><br />“Oh wow, I can’t believe you said that. I was sort of hoping for ‘Oh Rafar, you look fine’,” Rafar said smiling. Even his smile looked tired and ghostly, like it was a blurry, out of focus photograph.<br /><br />“We’ve never hid what we mean behind fallacy. No bullshit, right?” she said.<br /><br />“I guess not.”<br /><br />“Have you been working too much? You haven’t been eating well have you? Are you ill?”<br /><br />Evie realized she sounded just like she did back then every time Rafar was not feeling well, when they were still together. Despite what had happened between them, she could not deny she still cared for him. Seeing him looking like this, was, to put it into words, breaking her heart. Suddenly, without thinking, and to her own surprise, she took his hand in hers. Rafar did not say anything, but he did not pull back his hand either.<br /><br />“Rafar…”<br /><br />Rafar leaned forward in his chair. His eyes cast downwards, almost as if he was looking into the own deep pools of his soul and emotions, like drawing water from a well. It seemed to cost him a lot of effort as well. His lips stammered, and Evie could see his temples pulsing. Evie was worried. She thought Rafar was sick; a morbid part of her mine was thinking that Rafar was here to tell her he was dying of some terminal illness.<br /><br />“Are you sick? Please tell me if you are,” Evie said, the worry obvious in her voice.<br /><br />He smiled and shook his head. “No, don’t worry. I'm not ill…”<br /><br />“But you look-“<br /><br />“Awful, yea I know. But it’s not because of illness. I guess I’ve just been working a lot and haven’t had much to eat or rest,” he said. “At least I'm slimmer, right?”<br /><br />He ended that sentence with a smile that did not reach his eyes. Instead it was strained and forced, a smile of irony. Evie tightened her hand around his. She felt terrible to see him so devoid of life and vitality. Granted, he was never the kind to go frolicking with stardust in his hair anyway, but at least he was always healthy. Now he looked like a wraith. <span style="font-style: italic;">And in just three months? What would happen if this goes on? He’d waste away!</span> Evie thought.<br /><br />He had said he came to talk. Now that he has said he was not ill or dying (much to her relief), Evie guessed there was only one thing that he would want to talk about. She knew he wanted to talk about them, their relationship. She would indulge him today. It was not wrong to do so anyway. But first she had to get something out of the way.<br /><br />“Rafar, I'm sorry the last time we met I just stormed off, angry at you. I should have been more, uh, diplomatic I guess.”<br /><br />He stifled a short laugh. “It’s fine. You were right to be angry anyway.”<br /><br />“You said you wanted to talk about something?” Evie said, her voice caressing, encouraging.<br /><br />“I do. I did. But now I don’t know if it’s such a good idea. I don’t know. Maybe,” he said. “I don’t know.”<br /><br />“Well... I'm here. So come on, let’s talk. I promise I won’t get angry. I’ll try anyway,” she smiled. “We can talk.”<br /><br />Rafar raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure? I mean, do you have the time? I'm not bothering you or anything?”<br /><br />Evie briefly thought about her date with Adam, but she supposed she could listen for a moment. “No, I don’t have anything to do; not right now anyway. So come on, let’s talk.”<br /><br />“Okay,” he said. “Okay.”<br /><br />Evie smiled at him. This was the first time she had seen Rafar look nervous and slightly stammering since the day he had first hinted at her that he loved her, many years ago, on that night he had come up to her at a café in front of their old college, ‘apologizing’ for being a ‘bad husband’. Has it really been that long? She thought uneasily.<br /><br />“Well, to start, I’ll say again that I'm not sick, and I'm not dying, so please don’t have that worried look on your face. You’re not as pretty when you look worried.”<br /><br />“Okay, but I can’t help it when you look like something the cat dragged in.”<br /><br />“Eheh. Cat’s don’t bring in <span style="font-style: italic;">Wiseguys</span>.”<br /><br />Smiles from both of them. Silence.<br /><br />“Evie…”<br /><br />“Yes?”<br /><br />To her utmost surprise she saw tears welling beneath his eyes. Then as quickly as they had appeared, he took off his ‘Weezer’ glasses and wiped his eyes. But they came yet again.<br /><br />“Oh damn,” he said softly under his breath. Evie waited, her heart aching.<br /><br />“Evie…”<br /><br />“Yes, Rafar?”<br /><br />He looked at her.<br /><br />“Evie, I miss you.”<br /><br />Silence.<br /><br />“Evie, I miss you. I think I miss you so much. <span style="font-style: italic;">Saya rindu awak</span>,” he said. Evie was quiet. She just stared at him, her gaze not moving away from the tears forming fat droplets beneath his eyelids. She hoped nobody would see him like this, vulnerable and open. Luckily there was nobody much at the café this time anyway. He continued.<br /><br />“I think I miss you so much that I can’t help but think of you every time I'm awake. And when I think of you it hurts me, deeply, inside, and it puts me off doing anything good for myself.”<br /><br />One tear dropped from his eye. It formed a clear streak that shone beneath the light of the café. Evie fought the urge to reach out and wipe it away.<br /><br />“I know I don’t look so good right now,” he said. “And certainly you think I look weak, maybe pathetic even. But I guess I don’t care. I’ve never felt so… honest, ever. So if people see me like this today, I don’t actually give a shit.”<br /><br />Evie nodded. She bit her lower lip as another tear fell from his eyes. The teardrop was rounded, pearly and it glided across his cheek before disappearing beneath his chin. He wiped it away this time.<br /><br />“When I'm at work or doing work I guess I'm fine. But it’s those in betweens that really tear me apart. Ever since lately I’ve been reminded of you every time I do even the littlest of things. Like, I was making coffee and I remembered how you used to like it: one teaspoon coffee and 4 teaspoons sugar with milk.”<br /><br />He sniffed back a sob and smiled, sadly. “I know, it’s silly isn’t it? I feel like a girl, haha…”<br /><br />Evie did not say anything. She just let him talk as yet another tear dropped onto his cheek.<br /><br />“I never thought that clichés could be so true. You know, the old ‘<span style="font-style: italic;">mandi tak basah, tidur tak lena and makan tak kenyang thing</span>?’ Well look at me now.<br /><br />Ever since that lunch at Raju’s, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I mean, when I went home I told myself ‘Rafar, you fool, it’s over, now just get on with your fricking life’, I thought. But I couldn’t. Can’t.<br /><br />I guess it’s a guilt complex? I don’t know. But ever since that day I thought about you, and how you’ve always been there for me, how you’ve always loved me. And I’d always remember the day I saw you crying alone after we divorced. And when I think of that I’ll always cry, because I knew I could have been there for you but I wasn’t. I knew I could have come back for you but I didn’t. I knew we’d probably have made it work if only I had come back and tried, but I didn’t.<br /><br />What I did however was run away. I decided to run away from the best thing that’s ever happened in my life. I ran away from you.”<br /><br />Now Evie could not help but shed tears herself. She wiped them away with a tissue. She no longer cared if people were looking. She has never seen Rafar like this, so open, vulnerable and honest. Not even the day they were married. Or the first time they made love, which, unbeknownst to Rafar, she too, sometimes dreamed of. Right now, if truth were made of gold and diamonds, Rafar would be a billionaire.<br /><br />“I was rummaging through my old stuff,” he said. “And I found a card; it was the card I gave you during our first wedding anniversary. Do you remember what it said?”<br /><br />Evie nodded, and when she spoke her voice was whispered in a feeble attempt to hide her emotions. <span style="font-style: italic;">“Forever starts today my love</span>.”<br /><br />“Right, eheh,” Rafar said. “And I think we went to Pangkor a few days later didn’t we? Our gift to each other?”<br /><br />Evie nodded again and wiped her eyes, now red and slightly swollen. Rafar’s tears had somewhat stopped, but his eyes, too, were reddened and slightly puffy. It made his face look even more tired.<br /><br />“I'm sorry if this makes you uncomfortable, but do you remember we spent our first night at Pangkor in bed, doing nothing but making love?”<br /><br />“I do,” Evie said.<br /><br />Rafar gazed downwards. “These past few months I feel like I’ve been living in a dream, a dream that is forcing me to re-live all our best memories, and I even dream of the funny ones. Like, remember the time we went cycling at Titiwangsa and somehow I lost control of my bike and went straight into the lake?”<br /><br />Evie laughed through her tears. “I remember! Thank god it was shallow where you fell.”<br /><br />“And the time we were talking and you said that when you were younger, you thought that James Bond was the King of England?”<br /><br />“You teased me for days after that!”<br /><br />They laughed together, and the sound of their laughter together was a wonderfully familiar but sadly distant sound, like an audio recording from decades ago, re-mastered for modern formats: it was still the same, but it did not seem quite ‘there’. Evie wiped her eyes. Rafar was suddenly quiet. She herself did not know what to say as of yet. They reminisced for a moment, both of them clearly trying to lift the mood of the situation, but both of them failing miserably.<br /><br />“I think, “ he said. “This is my penance for leaving you, for all the times I could have been there for you. This is a twist of fate; that I should live my days remembering the past and wasting away like this… Nothing feels good anymore. I wake up, work, go home, and work. And in those in betweens all I could think of is you, Evie Nadia.<br /><br />How you’ve changed! I thought you could never be as beautiful as you already were, but you’ve proved me wrong. And you’re successful, smart. How could I have ever thought of leaving you, even I can’t say for sure right now. Maybe I was just stupid. Selfish. Selfishly stupid.”<br /><br />Evie bit her lower lip again. Rafar’s voice was breaking up. The wells of tears formed in his eyes again. A tiny <span style="font-style: italic;">plop! </span>As one little teardrop fell on his cheek.<br /><br />“But what use is pondering over my mistakes, opening doors of yesterday and weeping over deeds long done though never forgotten. I’ve made my mistakes, so now I have to live with the knowledge of them. Until I die, I guess. Which by the look of things, could be soon? Eheh eheh…”<br /><br />“Don’t say that!” Evie scolded, her brows furrowing.<br /><br />“I'm sorry.”<br /><br />Silence.<br /><br />“Evie…”<br /><br />“Yes?”<br /><br />“I'm not ever sure if that was what I came to talk to you about… I guess I just needed to see you because,” his squeezed and his lips were twisted in a grimace as pure, unbridled sadness tore at his face. He looked away from her, trying to hide his pain. Evie’s own eyes watered again just looking at this. Evie knew he thought he was pathetic. It radiated in dull, heavy waves off of him, and that broke her heart even more. He took a deep breath and looked at her again, his eyes shiny with tears. A few other people were looking at them, or pretending not to look.<br /><br />“I needed to see you because I missed you, I missed you so much.”<br /><br />Evie grabbed his hand. “Rafar,<span style="font-style: italic;"> janganlah macam ni</span>…”<br /><br />“I'm sorry. This… this is a weak moment for me, though I guess that’s obvious…”<br /><br />Evie could not say anything. She could only cry.<br /><br />“Evie…”<br /><br />“Yes?”<br /><br />“I don’t know what it’s worth right now… But Evie, I lo-“<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">BUZZ!</span> Her mobile phone suddenly rang. She said ‘Sorry’ and fished it out of her handbag and looked to see a text message. It was from Adam:<br /><br />‘Babe, I'm on my way home. I booked tix for the movie ☺ see you in an hour?’<br /><br />“Oh cripes,” she said as she remembered her date with Adam. She looked at her watch and realized she had been talking with Rafar for about an hour or so. She still needed to get home to freshen up and change. Despite this tender moment with Rafar, she thought it would be mean of her if she blew off Adam. She wiped her face, drying her eyes. She noticed Rafar was doing the same.<br /><br />“Rafar, dear, I'm sorry, but I think I have to go…”<br /><br />He nodded. “It’s alright, I think I’ve taken too much of your time anyway…”<br /><br />“It’s okay… it was… it was lovely to talk to you. Were you about to say something before my phone rang? Sorry.”<br /><br />Rafar pondered for a moment, then shook his head. “No.”<br /><br />“Sure?”<br /><br />He nodded.<br /><br />“Okay. Sorry. I'm sorry I have to go.”<br /><br />He waved a hand, nodding his head. They got up and Evie asked how he came here. He said he came by car, and he was parked at the building opposite. For a moment they stood there, awkward, both of them unsure how to say goodbye. Then Evie thought the hell with it and hugged Rafar; he gently put his hands on her waist and she could feel his breath on her neck.<br /><br />“I’ll see you,” she said as they broke the hug. “And please, eat properly and take care of yourself? Please? For me?”<br /><br />“Okay,” he nodded slowly. “I will. For you.”<br /><br />They said goodbye and Evie watched him leave the building. She was hoping for him to turn around and wave but he did not, so she rushed to her car and sped back home, where she took a shower. She looked at herself in the mirror and decided her eyes were not so puffy. She got dressed and put on her best smile, just in time as Adam rang her phone to tell her he had arrived down at her apartment. Adam was bright and cheery as usual, and his eyes widened when he saw her. With Adam, Evie thought, it was like he’s seeing you for the first time every time he sees you.<br /><br />They drove to KLCC in Adam’s sleek black Honda NSX. The movie was a period-piece drama, and afterwards they had dinner at a posh Indian restaurant. Evie enjoyed the date, and she enjoyed being with Adam. They were holding hands now when they walked, though they have yet to say how their emotions out loud. But for all this, Evie felt she was distracted throughout the date, like there was something nagging her mind, like the thought of you leaving something on the stove or forgetting to lock the door before you went to bed. Adam must have noticed this as they were strolling hand in hand at the park after dinner.<br /><br />“Hey, sweetness, are you alright?” he asked, politely.<br /><br />“Evie?”<br /><br />She glanced up at his eyes and shook her head. A band of hair fell on her face, and she pushed it behind her ear. “I'm alright. Just a little tired I guess…”<br /><br />“Do you wanna go home? Get some rest?” he asked, the concern in his voice sincere.<br /><br />“No, no. I'm fine, really. Come on, let’s walk.”<br /><br />She hooked an arm around his and slightly leaned her head on his shoulder as they walked. They were now on the bridge above the fountain-pool. He stopped and they looked across the still water, to the main square beneath the Twin Towers. He leaned his arms on the railing. Evie did the same beside him, her eyes distant, disconnected from her thoughts.<br /><br />“Hey Evie,” he said suddenly and held her hand.<br /><br />“Hm?”<br /><br />“Do you think things are going cool between us?”<br /><br />“What? What do you mean?”<br /><br />He shook his head. “Sorry, that didn’t come out right. I mean, are you happy? Being with me, spending time with me?”<br /><br />Evie smiled and said, “Yes, of course. Isn’t it obvious already? We are holding hands.”<br /><br />“Yeah,” he said. “But we haven’t really talked about us.”<br /><br />Adam turned to face her and took both of her hands in his.<br /><br />“I think that since we started seeing each other, I’ve never felt happier. I'm being honest. I miss you when we’re not with each other and I think about you a lot these days.”<br /><br />Evie’s heart seemed to stop; this was the second time today someone was telling her they missed her and thought about her often. But…<br /><br />“Okay, sure, though this holding hands thing is a dead give-away,” Adam continued. “But I’ll say it anyway.”<br /><br />Evie bit her lower lip for perhaps the hundredth time today. Adam looked into her face, his own face eager and full of affection.<br /><br />“Evie, I… I'm crazy about you. From the first day we met. You’re the most amazing, most smart, most beautiful woman I’ve known. I… I…”<br /><br />He took a deep breath. “Evie Nadia, I love you.”<br /><br />Evie looked into his eyes. She wanted to say something but couldn’t. Was this not the moment she had been waiting for with Adam? Was this not what she was hoping her relationship with Adam would lead to? Is this not the crux of her life, a turning point for her to rebuild her own castle in the sky and never see it fall?<br /><br />It was. It was all that, she could not lie. And yet… and yet…<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2007/12/sugar-goes-online.html">Photographs at FlickR.</a> The stolen glances. 11 years ago. He was standing in the rain. “Sugar, I love you,” he had said, and then <a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2008/01/unexpectances-deja-vu-and-something.html">they were running together in the rain.</a> “I always knew! I knew you love me!” she had said as they ran. <a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2008/04/interludes-to-prelude-to-goodbye-teka.html">Funny riddles</a>. <a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2008/04/interludes-to-prelude-to-goodbye-oh-hum.html">Spontaneous trips</a>. The sight of him leaving for a year. “<a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2008/05/goodbye.html">I’ll miss you always, and I guess I'll be talking with an alternate you,</a>” he wrote in a letter. The engagement. Their wedding. The passion when they had made love. Their anniversary. ‘Forever starts today.’ The subtle scent of Calvin Klein Be. Lying on his chest at night, talking until dawn. The touch of his hands on her body. The taste of his lips. The day he left her. And this afternoon, the sincerity in his tears.</span><br /><br />“Evie?” Adam said. She was startled. Evie realized she must have been lost in her thoughts.<br /><br />“Evie, I, uh, I don’t mean to sound like a dumbass, but I guess you could say something as well?” Adam asked. He had an apologetic look on his face.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Dear, sweet Adam</span>. Evie put a hand to his face, and caressed his cheek. She looked into his eyes and saw nothing but sincerity there; she believed him when he had said he loves her. She wanted to say it too, because, to an extent, it was true… But…<br /><br />“Adam, I…” she said. He looked at her, his face hopeful. Evie struggled with her words.<br /><br />“Adam I don’t feel so well…” she managed to say in the end. She saw a flash of disappointment in his face, but he covered it well. She turned her look away, not wanting to see the hurt.<br /><br />“You’re not well? You wanna go home?” he asked, putting an arm across her shoulders. She nodded.<br /><br />“Yes, I think I ate something that disagreed with me. I'm sorry…”<br /><br />He shook his head. “It’s okay. Alright, come, let’s get you back home.”<br /><br />They drove back to her apartment, and Adam insisted that he walk her back all the way to her door. They stood there for a moment. He had his hands in his pockets.<br /><br />“You’re going to be okay?” he asked. Evie nodded.<br /><br />“I'm sorry for tonight. I suddenly don’t feel too good,” she said.<br /><br />“It’s alright. You do look a bit tired. Well,” he smiled. “There’s always next time right?”<br /><br />“Right,” Evie said and smiled back. She knew he wanted to say ‘<span style="font-style: italic;">I love you’</span> to her again; she could see it in his eyes and the way he looked at her and the tone of his voice. She felt so sorry she could not say it back, though it was her that had been waiting for that moment to happen. But now… she just felt confused. Something happened today that she did not expect nor had any dream of figuring out as soon as she thought she could. She felt she needed time to mull things over.<br /><br />Suddenly things felt like they were going too fast.<br /><br />“Well, goodnight Babe,” he said. There was sad tone to his voice that Evie felt so sorry for.<br /><br />“Adam,” she said… and then she held her arms out and embraced him. He hugged her back, and Evie felt him smell her hair. She let it be. As they broke the hug she kissed him on the cheek, a tender kiss, filled with an emotion she was not fully sure of and could not even say out loud.<br /><br />“Goodnight,” she said. Adam’s face was red, and she thought he was at least a bit happier now. He waved goodbye and went down the elevator as Evie closed the door behind her. She changed, brushed her teeth and washed her face and immediately went to bed.<br /><br />And yet she could not fall asleep for hours.<br /><br />Adam.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Rafar.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Adam.</span><br /><br />Rafar.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Adam… Rafar…</span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">------<br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: right; font-style: italic;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /><br />tiba saatnya kita saling bicara</span>,<br /><span style="font-size:85%;"> tentang perasaan yang kian menyiksa</span>...<br /><br /><br />-----<br /></div><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span> </div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7420985887871930530.post-4983912459618430962009-02-14T12:27:00.000-08:002009-02-16T13:00:23.588-08:00Valentine's Day<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span></span><blockquote style="font-style: italic;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size:78%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">hold on:</span></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size:78%;">do note this is a<span style="font-weight: bold;"> 'special' Valentine's Day episode,</span> and not part of the official Season 4 continuity, although it is canonical. this one story takes place about 6 years ago, during Evie and Rafar's first year of marriage. perhaps it shows what it was like before.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">hope you like it</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:78%;">- Edwan</span><br /></div><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:78%;">----------------------------</span></div></div></blockquote><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHNzE-rHhaji2VV0d_zGY8n9wBXFYyFaCqYfAsh2xYuuczY8KMOZjv9h0GyR5ucCIxJBfy9WFdBIHZzyghlVknJ9Uu7Xu8wjL_oTjPmOjX-W0Q1P2iWQ2Pz8sAzQ5Qgr3FOYU9zaNKWkA/s1600-h/vdayspecial.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 242px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHNzE-rHhaji2VV0d_zGY8n9wBXFYyFaCqYfAsh2xYuuczY8KMOZjv9h0GyR5ucCIxJBfy9WFdBIHZzyghlVknJ9Uu7Xu8wjL_oTjPmOjX-W0Q1P2iWQ2Pz8sAzQ5Qgr3FOYU9zaNKWkA/s400/vdayspecial.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5302463834186015330" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><u><span style="font-weight: bold;">Six Years Ago</span></u></span><br /></div><br />Evie Nadia roused from slumber when she felt the soft touch of lips on her cheek, and the slight tickle of hair on her skin. She slowly opened her eyes, and squeezed the gum out of them and yawned. She looked up to see Rafar's face above her, a short, subtle smile on his lips. Evie lay down, her face a bit dazed from sleep. Rafar was sitting beside her on the bed.<br /><br />"Good morning," he said. Then he bent down and kissed her lips. Evie raised her arms and put them around his neck, beckoning him to kiss her again. He laughed.<br /><br />"Oit. That will have to wait, I have to go to work now."<br /><br />Evie frowned. "Already? What time is it?"<br /><br />"It's seven o'clock Sayang. I have to be on site in forty-five minutes."<br /><br />He kissed her on the forehead and left the room, presumably to get his stuff. He had a photoshoot today, and it would probably take him all day long, maybe until after dusk. Evie wished she could come with him, but she knew she'd probably get in his way of work. Anyway, the shoot was likely to be long, boring and hot.<br /><br />But she was slightly upset about something. Today was the fourteenth of February. Ever since they dated they would go out on the fourteenth of February. Dinner, movie, walk in the park. Something, anyway. They've done that for the past five years. It was sort of ironic that, now, in their first year of marriage, Rafar had to work today.<br /><br />Evie stretched her limbs and got off the bed. She was dressed in a pink baby-tee and boxer shorts; his boxer shorts. She went to the living room where Rafar was already putting on his shoes.<br /><br />"I can't believe you have to work today," Evie said, and she stuck out her lower lip.<br /><br />"Well," Rafar said while tying his laces. "Don't feel too bad. Anyway, I'm your husband, isn't it my responsibility to work so I can provide?"<br /><br />"But on Valentine's Day!"<br /><br />"Haha, yes, on Valentine's Day as well. Come rain or high-water, haha. Now come here," he said as he stood up. Evie walked towards him and he put his hands on her waist. In turn, she hung her hands around his neck. Rafar kissed her.<br /><br />"If all goes well, I'll be finished before Maghrib. Maybe we can go out later, if I'm not too tired, hm? Okay?"<br /><br />Evie feigned disinterest. She looked aside. Rafar tried again.<br /><br />"Dinner? Movie?"<br /><br />This time she looked back at him and grinned. "Heee.."<br /><br />"Right, so that's settled. Look, I gotta go," he said. He gave her a quick peck on the cheek, gathered his stuff and went down the stairs of their apartment building. "I'll call you before I come back okay?"<br /><br />Evie nodded and waved her husband goodbye. For a moment she stood there, leaning in the doorway. Then she closed the door and took a long shower before making breakfast and reading the newspapers. She skimmed through the headlines, and eventually settled in the 'About Town' section. Of course, she looked through hundreds of promotions for Valentine's Day. Sushi, 3-course dinner, Table For Two, etcetera.<br /><br />Evie grabbed a pen and circled some restaurants. Later she'd try calling, though she knew that all those places were likely fully booked. The only reason she had not booked a place was because she knew Rafar had to work today. They had known it for weeks beforehand. Still, she could always try her luck.<br /><br />After breakfast Evie wanted to watch some television but all the shows were boring, so in the end she made herself a cup of hot chocolate with those tiny white marshmallows and sat on the sofa listening to music. Outside, the cacophany of noises that signaled another day for Kuala Lumpur had already begun; blaring horns, engines, shouts, the occasional police siren.<br /><br />As she sipped her chocolate she thought of her life. She was so happy. Ever since they had started dating five years ago, Evie knew she would end up with Rafar as his wife. She had counted on it, and had bet her entire life to get where she is right now. When Rafar's family had come to her house asking for her hand in marriage, she felt like she wanted to scream and cry in delight at the same time. And of course her family had said yes because she had said yes.<br /><br />They had gotten engaged, and about a year after that they got married. The journey was not all smooth sailing; at first they tended to disagree about minor details, and sometimes the things they wanted to do encountered set-backs. For instance, Evie had originally wanted to give guests small boxes containing chocolate truffles with Rafar and her names on them, but somehow the caterer had misplaced her initial order and only managed to deliver less than a quarter of her desired amount so she ended up giving regular sweets, and about two nights prior to the ceremony, the pelamin at her venue collapsed after someone had dropped a televison (yes! a televison!) on it.<br /><br />But Rafar and her had waded through the often stressful process of planning the wedding; in fact, a year earlier they had pooled their savings together to purchase this apartment they were now living in. And the wedding, of course, had gone beautifully. She truly did feel like a queen during the ceremonies.<br /><br />Without realizing it, Evie was smiling by herself. Her heart was filled, almost overflowing with her love for Rafar. Sweet, lovely Rafar. She knew they would be together <span style="font-style: italic;">forever</span>. She felt it in her blood, and saw it in his eyes.<br /><br />At about quarter past ten, Evie began calling the places she had picked out from the newspapers. Much to her (albeit expected) disappointment, most of them were fully booked, or could only offer her a table at a time when Rafar and herself could not make it. When she finally hung up on the last place she had picked, Evie sighed, her shoulders slumping. She blew a strand of hair that had fallen on her forehead and pushed her glasses up her nose.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">What should I do? Today should be special!</span><br /><br />She tossed aside the newspaper and switched on the television again. She settled on a cooking show, and that's when it dawned on her: <span style="font-style: italic;">I should make a Valentine's dinner; if we can't go, then we'll let dinner come to us! Besides, I have all day long!</span><br /><br />Suddenly excited at the prospect, she went to get her laptop and began searching for recipes that were not too difficult to make, and ones where she could easily get ingredients. She surfed for about an hour or so, taking notes and bookmarking pages. Finally she settled on three-course meal that seemed easy enough; she listed the ingredients and printed the recipes, and got dressed to go out shopping.<br /><br />Evie had decided to make gazpacho soup, steak with vegetables, and strawberry and chocolate mousse. She even made a note to herself to purchase a bottle of that non-alcoholic, sparkling grape juice. With her list of ingredients and a determined mind, Evie went to KLCC to go to the Cold Storage supermarket there.<br /><br />She never was the domestic type, so she did feel a little embarassed when she somehow got 'lost' in the supermarket, looking for stuff. But eventually she managed to purchase all of the things on her list. Feeling rather pleased with herself, Evie decided to stroll around Suria KLCC before going back home. <span style="font-style: italic;">Maybe I should get a gift?</span> she thought. So she went into Isetan and various shops, looking for something to get for Rafar.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Chocolates? No, he doesn't like sweets. A card? That's kinda lame.</span><br /><br />Then she stopped in front of a La Senza lingerie outlet. She stood for a few minutes in front of the shop. They had some sort of Valentine's Day sale. <span style="font-style: italic;">Hmmmm, </span>Evie thought.<span style="font-style: italic;"> Maybe...</span><br /><br />Half an hour later she walked out, slight grin on her face, and a La Senza bag in one hand.<br /><br />As soon as she got home she placed the dinner ingredients at the kitchen. Then she decided to spruce up the house a moment, cleaning and decorating it with romantic stuff she ransacked from her collection of knick-knacks. Evie prepared the table, draping a pink chiffon band over it, and placed scented candles and a plastic flower (that wasn't pretty enough for her, but it was all she had).<br /><br />After that was done she went to the room to try on her new lingerie, and was satisfied with what she saw, and hoped Rafar was going to love it as well. She changed back into her regular clothes and glanced at a clock. <span style="font-style: italic;">Hm, I have plenty of time before dinner,</span> she thought.<br /><br />She made herself a light lunch and a drink and watched television to pass the time. Evie had already planned this out in her head: she had a rough plan of when to start cooking, to lay out the table, and when to get dressed to surprise Rafar. She thought she would wear a nice, cherry red knee length evening dress tonight. She had even loaded the hi-fi with a cd to play later on, full of their favorite love songs.<br /><br />Evie yawned and again glanced at the clock. Plenty of time, I need a nap. As she laid herself down on the sofa for a quick nap, she had a smile on her face. Tonight will be the best Valentine's ever.<br /><br />------<br /><br />She woke up when the telephone rang; a bit dazed, she fumbled for the handset and dropped it. She cursed quietly and picked it up.<br /><br />"Hello?"<br /><br />"Hi Evie." It was Rafar. "You're napping yea? Sorry. But I'll be home in about an hour, then we can go out."<br /><br />"An hour?" she asked, confused. Was the shoot over?<br /><br />"Yeah. We're wrapping up here. See you back home alright? Love you," Rafar said and hung up. Evie looked oddly at the handset. An hour? Then she glanced at the clock and saw it was already quarter to seven o'clock.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Crap! I overslept! Oh my God!</span><br /><br />She rushed to the kitchen and suddenly forgot her recipes so she rushed back to the living room and grabbed them. Evie cursed herself for not setting an alarm of some sorts, and she felt spears of panic piercing her heart. She only had an hour or so to cook! How was she going to surprise Rafar! She moved quickly in the kitchen, but had to pause often to glance at the recipes. Finally annoyed she just chucked them aside and just followed her intuition. She blanched the tomatoes for the soup, and at the same time tried to make the chocolate and strawberry mousse. At one point she spilled a quart of cream that she had already measured out and she felt like screaming.<br /><br />As she was peeling the blanched tomatoes she smelled something burning and saw the pan she intended to use to cook the steaks was smoking. She yelled "No! No!" and threw the pan into the sink, where it sizzled upon touching cold water. She put on a fresh pan and decided to cut some vegetables to go with the steaks; <span style="font-style: italic;">but wait, what about the mousse? Have I washed and cut the strawberries? Is my blender ready? Do the steaks need marinade? How should I cook the vegetables? And the soup? Shouldn't gazpacho be served cold? And the sparkling juice was warm because it was standing beside the stove! Wait, the table was set but what about the plates? Cutlery?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">No!</span> Evie screamed in her head. <span style="font-style: italic;">No! No! No!</span><br /><br />--------<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">One Hour Fifteen Minutes Later...</span><br /><br />"Assalamualaikum," Rafar said as he opened the door and stepped in. He was shouldering a bag, heavy with lenses and cameras. He closed the door behind him. "Evie? You there? I'm home Sayang."<br /><br />The house was quite silent<span style="font-style: italic;">. Where was she? </span>Rafar thought.<br /><br />He placed the camera bag on the floor and pulled off his socks. He peered around.<br /><br />"Evie? Evie, honey?"<br /><br />Rafar saw the dinner table; it was decorated with adorable motifs. He particularly liked the chiffon band across the table. But nothing was laid on there. From the kitchen he heard the ting-ting of cutlery on glass, and he smelled a mixture of aromas: herbs, spices, chocolate, fruit.<br /><br />Rafar entered the kitchen and raised his eyebrows. The sink was full of dishes; on the stove were a few pans and a pot that had something which looked like tomato soup. The counter-tops were littered with various foods: there was a plate of very dry looking meat, a colander of strawberries, a chopping board with half-cut French beans and carrots, a jar of sugar, a jar of salt, a pepper grinder, some potatoes, a bowl of egg whites and a loaf of Ciabatta bread.<br /><br />Evie was sitting cross-legged on the floor, her back leaning on the cabinet. She was in a white t-shirt and shorts, stained with tomatoes, chocolate, oil. A bowl of melted chocolate was in one hand, and in the other a metal spoon. Her hands were stained, and she had a sour expression on her face. She had a faint chocolate stain on her cheek, and her lips were covered in the gooey melted cocoa. Beside her, he could see the green leaves from several strawberries. She looked up to him.<br /><br />"I wanted to surprise you with a romantic, home-made dinner," she said flatly. "But I fell asleep and did not have enough time to prepare everything before you got home."<br /><br />Rafar tucked his hands into his pockets. He wanted to laugh but knew it would upset her. "So," he said, raising his eyebrows. "What's for dinner?"<br /><br />"If you like steak that tastes like charcoal and feels like rubber, it's on the counter top above me. Soup that looks like tomato but tastes like water is on the stove. But I'm sorry, no dessert. There's not enough chocolate because I've been eating it. With strawberries." She belched, gently, onto the back of her hand. "Now I <span style="font-style: italic;">sudah kembung</span>."<br /><br />Rafar whistled, looking at the mess. "Well..."<br /><br />Suddenly Evie cried. Rafar sat down on the floor beside her, and put an arm around her shoulders.<br /><br />"What's wrong Sayang?" he asked.<br /><br />"Everything! This was supposed to be the best Valentine's!" Evie said through tears. Rafar could not help but smile, but Evie did not see it. When she looked up towards him, he wiped the chocolate stain off her cheek and wiped aside the tears.<br /><br />"I'm sorry," she said. "I just wanted this year's Valentine's to be special. It is our first V-day as a married couple, you know."<br /><br />Rafar nodded, smiling. "Well," he said. "It already is special."<br /><br />Evie wiped her eyes. "How? I messed up!"<br /><br />"Like you said: it's our first one as a married couple. It's not just this one day that we need to be extra romantic and loving and special. Things are beautiful everyday now that I'm with you. And it will always be beautiful. And even if the steaks look like coal and feel like rubber, I love you anyway."<br /><br />Evie laughed, a sudden, clear and clean sound through her sobs. "Really?"<br /><br />"Of course!" he said. "Now come, let's go out to dinner. We can clean up when we get back."<br /><br />"I already called the nice places. They're fully booked."<br /><br />Rafar nodded thoughtfully. "So how about McDonalds? Burgers, fries and chocolate shakes and looking at the stars?"<br /><br />Evie wiped her cheeks and smiled. "That sounds like the best, nicest, most romantic dinner ever, Rafar."<br /><br />"I love you," Rafar said and kissed her on the lips, deeply. Her lips tasted like chocolate. "Now have a shower and we can go out, okay?"<br /><br />They got up and Evie went for a shower. Rafar laughed as he looked at the messy kitchen. Still, in his heart, he felt deeply flattered and touched. He went to their bedroom to change clothes. He opened the door to their wardrobe and saw something that piqued his interest.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Well, this is nice</span>, he thought.<br /><br />As Evie showered she washed off the chocolate stains that had somehow got in her hair. She was still upset things did not go according to how she wanted to, but at least Rafar was okay with it. And she managed to laugh at herself a bit when she thought of how silly she must have looked, sitting on the floor, eating melted chocolate. Then she heard Rafar call her name, his voice a bit muffled through the bathroom door.<br /><br />"Yes?" she said, raising her voice a little. Rafar said something but she couldn't hear properly. So she opened the door just a bit and poked her head out. "Yes?"<br /><br />"Are you really hungry right now? McDonald's has a 24-hour drive thru right?" Rafar said. He was standing behind the door of their shared wardrobe, partially obscured from Evie's view.<br /><br />"Yes, they do," Evie said, wiping water off her face. "Why? Do you have something else you want to do first?"<br /><br />Rafar closed the wardrobe door and held out the new lingerie set Evie had purchased earlier. She had almost forgotten about it. Rafar eyed the lacy garments curiously.<br /><br />"Yeah," Rafar said, smiling. There was a naughty look in his eyes. "I do."<br /><br />Evie blushed.<br /><br />Maybe tonight was going to be perfect after all.<br /><br /><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">------<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">The best plans of Men and Mice often go astray.</span><br /><br /><br />-------<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></span></span><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Happy 14/2 to all who celebrate</span> </span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><br />:)</span></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"> </span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">- Muhammad Edwan Shaharir</span></span><br /></div><br />------<br /><br /><br /></div><br /><br /><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7420985887871930530.post-20373665895215523082009-02-12T01:03:00.000-08:002009-02-12T01:11:29.240-08:00Surprise<div style="text-align: right;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">-------<br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMom8RcWHpi1PpbaYI5Fu9yOTNg5xhC6PUABqlHfg5BcSOEUrhcBHDwXDper7airkfNaEkmA91WGNJWrAhZxrylblkjAvcJy1Q9EWsQIx-YxtM6tF696ZFH-Tq-gQwgmOYDvUsY9GCU5E/s1600-h/textingevie.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 353px; height: 353px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMom8RcWHpi1PpbaYI5Fu9yOTNg5xhC6PUABqlHfg5BcSOEUrhcBHDwXDper7airkfNaEkmA91WGNJWrAhZxrylblkjAvcJy1Q9EWsQIx-YxtM6tF696ZFH-Tq-gQwgmOYDvUsY9GCU5E/s400/textingevie.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301834231663535922" border="0" /></a><br />It was past eight o’clock when Adam finally dropped Evie off at her apartment. Their goodbye was curt, short and sweet: he had taken her hand in his and gently caressed her fingers. And all he said was “I’ll see you.” Evie had felt the heat rise in her cheeks and she just knew she was blushing; all of a sudden she was thankful that it was dim enough so the rouge wouldn’t show. Then Adam had winked and drove off.<br /><br />After they had watched the sunset together, they had gone to a public restroom (which was thankfully lighted and more importantly clean) to change. Afterwards they had a light early dinner at a warong. For the first time they were not speaking much over a meal; they were quiet, both of them not wanting to say much, both of them knowing that too much words would have ruined the moment. Then they had walked back to the car hand in hand and Adam drove them back to Kuala Lumpur.<br /><br />The drive home was a relatively quiet one as well. Suddenly both of them seemed to be avoiding eye contact, but not out of discomfort. Evie, for one, knew she was suddenly shy to look him in the face. She felt ridiculous. She felt the way she felt the day many years ago when she had fallen in love for the first time. And Adam seemed a bit nervous whilst driving, like he was taking an exam under the uncomfortable stare of a grumpy JPJ officer. Evie felt like they were getting to know each other all over again; as in, really get to know each other. The flirting and the pick-up lines were all a pretense to this moment in time.<br /><br />Both of them had prodded and tested each others’ waters, trying to seek a way to start a conversation that would flow naturally, but both of them found it suddenly hard. Evie thought she was being corny and felt lame, and Adam was suddenly out of lines. And yet, in a way, it was not at all inappropriate. Maybe what Evie felt was correct after all: nothing much needed to be said; it was perfect as it is.<br /><br />She knew, though, that sooner or later, they both would need to have ‘the talk’, because clearly something new was blossoming between them, something unchained by telephone calls or text messages or winking. Something purer and deeper had been stirred in both of their hearts today, at that moment their hands linked together and she had leaned her head on his shoulder, both of them watching the sunset.<br /><br />It was like a scene from a movie. The kind where people would boo and criticize out loud but secretly watch over and over again because, despite the corniness and the cheesiness, they felt good watching it, and they felt good watching it because it gave them some hope and belief that yes, life can be as beautiful as it is in fairy tales and Hollywood scripts.<br /><br />To Evie, it had felt exactly like that. Maybe once upon a time she would have thought that the very notion of a moment such as the one she had only existed in fantasy. But having experienced it for herself, she must say its every bit as romantic and beautiful as the movies suggest it is. Even better, she thought, I was in it.<br /><br />Upon entering her home she immediately stripped off her clothes and had a long hot shower. She dried off and dressed and crashed herself on the bed with a book in hand (‘The Historian’ by Elizabeth Kostova). She read a few chapters, lying on her stomach with her feet dangling in the air. Then she felt distracted and chucked the book away and lay down staring at the ceiling.<br /><br />Evie sighed, and in her mind she kept picturing that moment on the beach over and over again; sometimes it was in slow motion but more often it was like she saw herself through the eyes of another person. And every time she thought of the way his hand had closed around hers, and the way he had gently pulled her close, her cheeks would flush with pleasure and she would feel giddy.<br /><br />I haven’t felt this way since I was nineteen years old, Evie thought. Indeed, the last time she had felt giddy and exasperated about a boy (though Adam was not technically a boy) was when she first realized she was falling in love with Rafar, eleven years ago. Eleven years ago, that’s such a long time, Evie thought. She put an arm across her forehead and stared at the ceiling. Inside her head, a little monologue was going on:<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">But am I actually falling in love, or is this just infatuation with someone new, someone who’s bringing new things in my life? God that sounded weird… He’s so sweet, so wonderful to be around with. He treats me the way I want to be and he makes me feel… why, worth my weight in gold.<br /><br />It’s not everyday I find someone like that. Indeed I’d probably never find someone like Adam ever again... And that moment at the beach… that was wonderful! It’s almost as if he read my mind. I loved it… I loved the way his hands felt, and I loved being able to put my head on his shoulder like I did.<br /><br />He’s so different from all those jerks I unfortunately dated before I met him. Remind me to thank the Dragon Lady; if it weren’t for her I never would have met Adam!<br /><br />Adam… he’s in love with me. I can see it, feel it. But… what about my self? Am I already in love with him as he is with me?</span><br /><br />Evie ignored the question for now and turned onto her side on the bed and grabbed her cell phone. She opened the file manager and looked through the pictures she had taken with him. She did not realize she had a smile on her face as she did so. Some part of her again felt like a nineteen year old; but hey, what the hell, I’ll cling on to the best parts of youth for as long as I can, she thought. She browsed through the 100-plus pictures and remembered everything about what happened in them.<br /><br />For instance, there was one which showed Adam frowning, his eyes closed and his face twisted; that was when he had put too much wasabi in his soy sauce dip when they went for sushi. Another showed the two of them smiling into the camera with tired and sweaty faces; that was when Adam had invited her to play futsal with his friends. Evie browsed through more pictures when a text message came in from Adam.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">“I had a great day ;D”</span><br /><br />Evie smiled. She quickly replied.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">“Me too. But why was yours great? :P”</span><br /><br />A minute later:<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">“Lets just say it involved the sun and a very pretty girl in a red tank top who was too afraid to swim further than I did. ;)”</span><br /><br />Like a little girl, Evie hugged the phone to her chest and felt her cheeks flush; she shook her feet in the air and squeezed her eyes, all while a huge grin was carved on her lips. She tapped the keys on her phone.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">“Really? Mine was great because of this guy who happens to be the sweetest. Maybe because he also drives a black sports car? :P”</span><br /><br />Buzz. <span style="font-style: italic;">“I bet he’s very good looking too ;D”</span><br /><br />Tip-tap.<span style="font-style: italic;"> “Ok la, not bad, kinda cute, a bit annoying”</span><br /><br />Buzz. <span style="font-style: italic;">“ ;( “</span><br /><br />Tip-tap. <span style="font-style: italic;">“Aww, just kidding. He is good looking ;)”</span><br /><br />Buzz. <span style="font-style: italic;">“Fell for the Guilt-trip? :P”</span><br /><br />Tip-tap. <span style="font-style: italic;">“No! I was being honest :) “</span><br /><br />And then the replies stopped for a moment, to Evie’s mild disappointment. She put the phone aside and tried to read her book again. After an hour or so she fell asleep, the book open on her chest, the bedroom light still on. She slept for a few hours, and only woke up when she heard her phone ringing the intro riff to ‘We Are One Tonight’. She glanced at the time and saw it was five past eleven. She pressed the ‘answer’ key.<br /><br />“Hey…” she said, a bit groggily.<br /><br />“Oh you’re asleep? I'm sorry.” It was Adam. Evie squeezed her eyes and stretched her body.<br /><br />“It’s okay, hi, what’s up?”<br /><br />“Nothing. Just thought I’d call you.”<br /><br />Evie smiled. “Do you miss me already? <span style="font-style: italic;">Kangen yea</span>?”<br /><br />A snicker over the line. “Yes, actually. <span style="font-style: italic;">Kangen</span>. I did miss you.”<br /><br />They were both quiet for a while, letting that sentence sink in. Evie hugged her bolster.<br /><br />“I missed you too…” she said. Then their conversation began to flow more openly. Evie noted Adam was still a bit careful in the way he said things. She, too, was still trying to figure out what was happening between them at the moment. She sensed transcendence; there was a current of change in the rivers of her emotions, a current she felt like diving into and letting it drift her away to the shores of Paradise. But Evie wanted to play it slow.<br /><br />Most of all, she wanted to be sure. Some part of her wanted him to say the words first. The L word. Evie thought that only then would she be able to ascertain how she really, truly felt about Adam. The truth was she already knew how he felt; but she wanted to hear it from him anyway. She wanted this to happen ‘officially’. At the same time she did not want to hear it over the phone, so she chose her words very carefully as they talked, always skimming the surface but never really plunging in.<br /><br />They ended up talking for about an hour or so. When they said their goodbyes, it was with a simple and sweet “Goodnight and sweet dreams. I’ll see you.”<br /><br />Evie plugged her phone into the charger seeing as it was nearly drained. She got up to switch off the lights. Tomorrow was Monday after all, a working day. She slipped into her blankets but just before she went to bed she grabbed her phone again and changed her wallpaper to a picture of her and Adam together. She smiled and lay down, and sleep came fast. She dreamed of Adam that night.<br /><br />The next morning was bright and beautiful. She woke up with a smile on her lips and a song in her heart when she saw a text message in her inbox:<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">“Morning Honey, I miss you already :x – Adam The Hensem One”</span><br /><br />Evie was exceptionally cheerful as she drove to work; she bought packets of nasi lemak and gave them to her officemates, and she sat down at a coffee table eating and gossiping with her receptionist, Alya. Her workload was coincidentally light, so she breezed her way through most of it. During lunchtime she and Alya went for a small shopping spree, and again bought goodies for the office to share. Even her boss remarked how bright and chirpy she was on that day.<br /><br />At five o’clock she called Adam and they agreed to meet each other that night, at, oh, say KLCC and watch a movie? Then she packed her stuff and said bye-byes to her colleagues and went down to drive home, freshen up and get ready for another date. As she descended in the elevator she could not help but smile, and some of the people in the lift gave her an odd look. But she did not care if she looked like the Cheshire cat. She reached the building lobby and was searching for her car keys when a man suddenly stepped up beside her. She gave a small yelp of surprise.<br /><br />Evie looked at the man; he was thin and gaunt, the cheeks sallow and the whites of his eyes had thin streaks of red. His clothes hung loose on his body. The subtle scent of Calvin Klein Be encircled him. Evie knew him. How could she not?<br /><br />“Rafar,” Evie said.<br /><br />“Hi Evie,” Rafar smiled weakly, the smile never reaching his eyes. “Can we please talk?”<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">(to be continued, of course)</span><br /><br /><br /><br />----<br /><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7420985887871930530.post-86680502274438432862009-02-06T17:57:00.000-08:002009-02-07T17:39:40.936-08:00The Beach<div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: center;">---<br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTqt02vlij5UoWG_T7-g4AOI1lmXAEadgHm4LBbCJjhnCr6_2BRloiSr2GJXT2-_tk9LMeKn1ewO6KNN7ryFvzMVnG-7Ic_1Q75-LtOPu1zhnTAxKgEULNhyfFeeORUikMhcqKsvc1aEM/s1600-h/sunsetbeach.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTqt02vlij5UoWG_T7-g4AOI1lmXAEadgHm4LBbCJjhnCr6_2BRloiSr2GJXT2-_tk9LMeKn1ewO6KNN7ryFvzMVnG-7Ic_1Q75-LtOPu1zhnTAxKgEULNhyfFeeORUikMhcqKsvc1aEM/s400/sunsetbeach.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5299874070029059250" border="0" /></a><br />Evie’s dreams of late have been calm and quiet. She dreamed of vistas that overlooked a rocky cliff, the sandstone and limestone eroded by massive sweeps of time and saltwater, and a blue, blue sea that stretched beyond the scope of her eyes. Always in these dreams a cool ocean breeze, salty but cleansing, would ruffle her hair and cause her eyes to blink in rapid succession. But the overall feeling was always of freedom, and her heart would soar until it reached the stars, from where she would look down upon a world that was not the earth, but her own life. And at the end of the dream, she’d float gently back to the world, back to daylight and consciousness, back to traffic jams in Kuala Lumpur and expensive roti canai and nasi lemak.<br /><br />But she would always wake up to these dreams refreshed and smiling. Sometimes she would wake up and half imagine finding starlight in her hair… okay, it did not really go that far, but there was always a sense of joy, of gladness that she was waking up alive. Life was too beautiful for her at the moment, like it has never been for quite awhile. So even if waking up feeling fresh and happy and smiley would seem small in the scope of bigger things to come, she was going to enjoy it all the same.<br /><br />That was how she woke up this morning. Happy. And she was even happier when Adam came to pick her up for lunch. He insisted on driving and paying the bills. She did not mind. Maybe those were very traditional things to do on behalf of a man, but she’s already dated cheapskates and someone who forced her to board a KTM train because his car was in the workshop and he had refused, REFUSED, that Evie drive him. <span style="font-style: italic;">Thank God that’s over</span>, Evie thought as she sat in the passenger seat of the sleek black Honda NSX; it was perhaps an eight year old car, but it was well kept and clean. Adam drove very smoothly, his wrist flicking the transmission by second nature. Evie enjoyed watching him drive; she imagined she would probably enjoy watching him cook as well. His movements were precise, like a well-oiled machine, and yet to Evie they were also delicate and graceful; it was as if his whole body and mind was perfectly in-tune.<br /><br />She has been seeing Adam for about a few months now; more often ever since that day at Raju’s with Rafar a few weeks back. She had gone home that night feeling a sense of occasion. Removing her wedding ring was like removing a huge boulder off her chest. At first it was odd, perhaps because she was already so used to having it on. When she looked at the strip of skin on her finger, which was paler, she would have a funny feeling inside her, and yet she has already disassociated the strip of skin with her ring. She would look at it like it was an old, healed scar, which, in a way, it probably was. That night she slept more soundly than she’s ever had for a long time; and she never did feel the ghosts that Rafar claimed he felt.<br /><br />For the record Evie found Adam more and more irresistible the more time she spent with him. He was so much more different than Rafar; a bit old fashioned, perhaps, but only in his demeanor and in the way he treats her. But then again, is being a gentleman an old fashioned thing? Is opening the car door for her lame, or insisting that she have a seat before he did at a restaurant a bad thing? Evie thought not; maybe it was odd in today’s world because things are just so… different. Of course they would be; what is chivalry and being a gentleman today when men think of women as meaningless pursuits? When everyone seems so preoccupied with chasing a relationship with careers and money, of course someone who seemed genuinely nice and interested and polite and sweet to her would be an oddity.<br /><br />Yes, sometimes she did wonder if Adam was faking it but she just could not see any reason for him to do so. He would listen to her talk with genuine interest, even when Evie herself thought she was being boring. And there was this delicious, delectable sweetness in his voice when he asked her questions she did not expect her to ask, or when he would simply tell her stories about his own life. Evie found his stories fascinating to listen to, perhaps because Adam had such a privileged childhood and yet was as humble as apple pie. That humility, coupled with his generally chirpy and infectiously happy attitude to almost everything, was a one-two, knockout, you’re out to her.<br /><br />Of course he was also very good looking, but Evie did not hold it against him. Ah, clichés: Looks don’t matter, personality does. But with someone like Adam, she supposed she did not mind the best of both worlds.<br /><br />As he drove beside her, he was quiet, only turning to her to smile and, of course, wink, from time to time. He mostly winked just to annoy her. Evie looked outside her window as the scenery passed by in a blur. Earlier this morning Adam had asked her if she would like a spur-of-the-moment trip down to the beach at Port Dickson. She had said yes immediately. She had not been to a beach in years. In fact the last time she went to a beach was maybe just after she got married to Rafar. Evie loved the beach, and when she thought of her dreams of late, she felt even happier. She had packed spare clothes and some snacks in her big handbag. Adam sped down the highway, totally in control as he weaved between slower cars. They talked about general stuff in the car. They saved their nicer conversations when his hands were freer.<br /><br />Evie once asked Adam his ‘history’ of women. Adam had told her he had had a fiancé a few years before; around the time Evie and Rafar had divorced, in fact. Evie had asked what happened, and Adam had just pointed upwards and said ‘Cancer’. Evie had felt bad about it, but Adam had smiled and shrugged it off. “Sure, it was sad. I didn’t get to see her go, you know. But I loved her back then and she had loved me, and I believe she would have wanted me to be happy. So here I am. Happy.”<br /><br />Evie had not said it out loud, but the smile Adam had given her made her own heart blossom. On her part, she never brought up the topic of past flames herself. She explained she was a divorcee on their third date. He had asked her a few questions, and his eyes had kept falling to the ring on her hand. She had answered patiently and he was satisfied. Much to her relief, there was no awkwardness or a sense of ‘missing’ afterwards. As a matter of fact they got along more and more. Evie fondly remembered how hard he tried to please her and amuse her on their first few dates, when all she wanted and was satisfied for was him spending those moments with her. Evie remembered she felt like a giddy schoolgirl, waiting for his telephone calls and IMs and e-mails.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Adam, I like you, </span>Evie thought as they arrived in Port Dickson. They found a nice stretch of beach that was not too crowded and got out of their cars. Evie was wearing a plain dark red tank top with a sarong and sandals, and she had brought a wide brimmed hat. The day was warm, and being so close to a beach, she welcomed the ocean breeze. She already felt excited. Adam was in a t-shirt and shorts, and, much to her amusement, a pair of white Crocs. She loved Crocs! And they looked sort of adorable on Adam.<br /><br />“Walk on the beach?” Adam said, as he put on a pair of Ray-ban Aviators.<br /><br />“Of course!” Evie said. She too put on her big sunglasses. Adam extended a hand outwards. After you, the gesture said. Evie smiled and took the offer. They walked towards the beach, side by side, close together but not touching. Often the tips of their fingers would brush, but both of them pretended not to notice, and they always looked away when that happened. They walked down to the beach, and Evie stumbled on her first step when the sand shifted beneath her foot; she would have fallen rolling down if Adam had not caught her by the waist.<br /><br />“Whoa! I know you’re eager but watch your step!” Adam grinned. He had an arm around her waist, supporting her. Evie looked at him and for one concrete moment it seemed an invisible force, a bolt of electricity, passed between their eyes. Then Evie steadied herself and that feeling was gone. She felt mildly disappointed. She laughed.<br /><br />“Actually, I was testing the ground so you would not have made the mistake. I look out for you see?” she said with a smug look in her face. Adam raised an eyebrow.<br /><br />‘Riiiighht, of course you are.”<br /><br />Evie stuck out her tongue. “Thanks anyway. You may walk safely now.”<br /><br />They walked to the edge of the water. Evie’s face brightened visibly as she let her eyes admire the view. She was really glad Port Dickson has been cleaned up after that state of rut in the 1990s. It looked like a proper beach now, if not quite Pulau Redang or Hawaii. She was glad enough. She dug her feet in the warm sand. It was like being in a spa. She squatted down and let the waves, gentle at the edge, splash at her hands. A little crab popped out of a waterlogged hole and hurriedly scuttled across her hands, surprised. Evie laughed.<br /><br />“What’s so funny?” Adam said beside her. He too, had squatted down and was tracing his fingers in the wet sand.<br /><br />“Nothing, it’s just… I feel great. I feel great.” Evie looked at him and flashed her best smile. She did indeed feel great. It was late afternoon, a beautiful day, and a perfect day to be out at a beach. The sky was blue and the sun thankfully bright but not blazing; the ocean breeze caressed her body. It was a weekend, but the part of the beach they were at was not crowded at all. Evie felt a bit of regret she did not bring swimming clothes. She would have loved to be in the water. As soon as she thought that she was splashed with salty water as Adam suddenly rushed into the sea. He had taken off his shirt and left his Crocs beside her. Evie was surprised, and then saw Adam already waist deep in the water. She stood up and put her hands on her hips.<br /><br />“No fair!”<br /><br />Adam laughed as he let his body fall into the sea. “On the beach, all is equal. If you want to stay dry, stay dry. But why would you want to if you’re at a beach?”<br /><br />Evie stood at the water’s edge for a moment. Then she took off her hat and took Adam’s t-shirt and sandals and placed them, along with her bag, higher up the beach, near a stump of driftwood. She skipped to the water’s edge; took a deep breath.<span style="font-style: italic;"> Well, at least I have spare clothes!</span><br /><br />She ran into the water and as soon as it was deep enough she dived; she swam a few yards and popped out, throwing her head back. She wiped her face and saw Adam staring at her, slack-jawed.<br /><br />“What?” she said.<br /><br />“Wow,” Adam said, shaking his head. “That was hot.”<br /><br />Evie laughed and splashed water on him. He splashed her back, and they played around like kids in the warm, shallow sea. The sounds of their laughter echoed through the air, and Evie felt as if she was on top of the world, all her worries gone and dissolved in the salty water. She felt exhilarated, excited. She felt alive, full of joy and full of tomorrow. Adam decided to play games, and they were trying to one-up one another at silly contests like who could hold their breath longer (Adam – 44 seconds, Evie – 1 minute 8 seconds) or who could swim the furthest out (Adam won; Evie was afraid to swim in deeper water). After having their fun, they swam the short distance back to shore and sat at the water’s edge, both of them smiling and laughing. The breeze made her feel cool all over.<br /><br />“That was fun,” Adam said. Evie smiled, one that reached all the way to her eyes. Adam looked at her thoughtfully. Their eyes locked again, and again something electric passed through them. More words, but unspoken. Adam opened his mouth to say something, but shut it just as quickly. Then he looked away, out into the horizon. Evie was suddenly aware of how skimpy she looked, in a wet tank top and a sarong that clung to her legs. She turned to Adam to say that she wanted to get her dry clothes, but Adam was already up.<br /><br />“Stay, I have towels in the car. I’ll get them,” he said. Evie said she’d wait near where she put their stuff. She sat there, sand clinging to her feet. She took out a small compact and looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair was wet but she thought she had never looked happier. Why, even the dark circles under her eyes were a bit faded now. Her cheeks were full of vitality and color. <span style="font-style: italic;">Or maybe that’s just me, </span>she thought.<br /><br />She thought about those brief but electric moments every time she locked eyes with Adam. Something was definitely there. Those words unspoken between them were probably important words, words they both needed to hear and speak to one another. Without realizing it she had begun to fiddle with her ring finger, rubbing the spot where a band of precious metal and stone had once sat proudly.<br /><br />Has he noticed I have it off? She wondered. Yes, Evie liked Adam… only now she was considering the possibility that she might actually be harboring actual feelings for him. They’ve spent a lot of time these past few months and weeks. They never ran out of things to talk about, and they both listen to each other with true interest. On his part, Adam did not seem like he was just chasing her tail. Especially given how his eyes always seemed to look deeply in her heart.<br /><br />Evie knew he liked her. Evie was even confident that he, too, had real feelings for her. After all, he was the one who made the first move, right? This was different. This is different. He’s not like the others before, Evie thought. He’s not constantly staring at my buttocks or my neckline, nor is he always trying to figure out ways to physically touch me. Adam is just… different. Sweet. Funny. Spontaneous! That unexpected swim was a perfect example. She thought of all the sweet things he’s said and done. The flowers he gave. The dinners. The way he always pulls out her chair for her, and holds open doors. How he is always polite and listening. How he makes her laugh at his jokes. He pushed all the right buttons. But she knew he was holding something back, and she knew he was unsure to proceed because she had once been married, then divorced, and was still wearing her ring.<br /><br />But not anymore. Evie thought deep. Suddenly she felt excited. Her heart was in revolution. She thought confidently that Adam and her have passed the <span style="font-style: italic;">‘kenal-kenal’</span> stage. Furthermore, she misses him when they haven’t seen each other in awhile. She misses talking to him and seeing him whenever they’re both too busy. How long has it been since she last felt that way? Not since Rafar...or that TUDM pilot. She wanted to feel that sense of longing again. She’s been alone, though not always lonely, for long enough. In Adam she felt she’s found a keeper. Men like that don’t come along every often. What did her receptionist, Alya, tell her? ‘All the good men are married and/or gay’. He’s not gay, Evie thought bemusedly, and he’s not married. I’d be foolish to let this one be just another ‘date’.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I want this to happen, </span>her heart said. <span style="font-style: italic;"> I deserve this.</span> Suddenly Evie felt nineteen years old again. At least at heart. She felt excitable. She turned her head around and saw Adam walking towards her with a towel wrapped around his shoulders, and another one in his hands. He looked incredibly sexy without his shirt. Evie blushed, feeling slightly stupid and naughty at the same time. Well she was a regular woman after all.<br /><br />“Here you go Evie,” Adam said as he handed her the towel and sat down beside her. He tousled his hair with the towel. “You have dry clothes? I have some spare in the car.”<br /><br />“Thank you,” Evie said and wrapped the towel around her shoulders. “But I have spare clothes of my own. I don’t want to wear your sweaty man clothes!”<br /><br />“Excuse me, they aren’t sweaty. And I’d bet you’d look adorable in man clothes.”<br /><br />Evie smiled and she blushed for no reason. She felt terribly girly. “Well, I would look nice in anything, Adam Amirulkhair.”<br /><br />“Wow, you said my full name. Are you angry? Usually full name usage is reserved for moments of anger.”<br /><br />“No, haha.” Evie looked at him again. “Come on, let’s go for that beach walk we initially planned to do, before you so suddenly decided to go all aquatic on me.” She stood up and brushed the sand off her butt. Adam got up after her. He put his t-shirt back on and slung the towel over one shoulder.<br /><br />“Shall we?” he said, smiling, again extending an arm out. Ladies first. Evie bowed her head down slightly, and she felt a warm glow reach her cheeks. He followed slightly behind her as they made their way back to the shoreline and walked parallel to the sea. They walked slowly, quietly, neither of them saying much. They fell into a comfortable silence besides each other. Again, often their fingers brushed against each other. The last time she had touched his hand on purpose was the day they first met; and it was a handshake, hardly romantic. They continued walking, both content with the silence. Evie stole glances at Adam. Perhaps it was because, finally after years, she now had her guard down, her heart open, and she felt totally smitten looking at him beside her.<br /><br />Their hands brushed again. And again. Her left hand against his right. The hand she once wore her ring on. This time she brushed her hand on purpose, to see if he’d notice there was no ring there. But still Adam did not seem to take note. He just walked, with a curious smile on his lips.<br /><br />“What?” Evie said. Adam shook his head and turned to her.<br /><br />“Nothing.”<br /><br />He ran a hand through his damp hair. They continued walking in silence. The sun had already moved through the sky, settling lower. It cast a beautiful glow, changing the blues into violets, pinks and a deep, warm orange. The sea turned golden and seemed to dance with every wave. They walked as the sun burned deeper orange all the way out at the horizon; finally Adam stopped, still quiet, and turned back the way they came from.<br /><br />Evie slowed down a few steps behind him. She was slightly disappointed. Maybe she had been expecting too much. She sighed, content for the day but dissatisfied. After how the day had gone she was expecting something special.<br /><br />Well you expect too much Evie, she thought. What happened to going slow? She shook her head slowly, and pulled the towel around her shoulders tighter. Evie quickened her footsteps and walked alongside Adam again. He looked at her, his eyes deep and thoughtful. Evie smiled at him. On the beach, the children playing in the sea and sand were getting changed back. Picnic baskets and mats were closed and rolled. The sun was setting.<br /><br />Evie paused, and walked towards the water. She stopped short of the waves, and looked at the sunset, squinting her eyes a little. A sudden gust of breeze blew her hair, and it flew behind her. The towel too, was blown off. Evie stood still, looking at the sun setting behind the horizon. And then…<br /><br />And then the gentle touch of fingers. Those fingers wrapped around hers. She clasped the hand, feeling a sudden release of emotion in her heart. The hand was soft, the skin smooth and warm. Evie glanced at her hand, and looked up to see Adam beside her. He, too, was looking at their hands, linked together for the first time, her small hands in his, and they fit like a glove. In the glow of the setting sun Evie thought Adam looked perfect, the balance of light and shadows highlighting every feature and hiding every flaw he had, if any. And if she could have read his mind, she would have seen that at that very moment Adam thought she is the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.<br /><br />They turned their gazes away from each other, but still held hands.<br /><br />Evie shifted closer to Adam, and leaned her head on his shoulder; both of them watching the sun disappear. Adam slipped an arm across her waist, and pulled her closer. She let him. She sighed, contently. Adam started to say something but Evie <span style="font-style: italic;">shh-ed </span>him.<br /><br />No words were needed. It was perfect as it is.<br /><br />--------<br /><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7420985887871930530.post-634565710809115672009-02-03T16:55:00.000-08:002009-02-03T19:30:55.887-08:00The Memory of A Dream<div style="text-align: center;">-----<span style="text-decoration: underline;"></span><br /><span style="text-decoration: underline;"></span></div><span style="text-decoration: underline;"><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOCVWr7HaV-UH9R853zHeUcVdvbMFWZt3uBm6nfwReTjtttjav9USRCp3o-uFQe3S6UcRLDOSAibCLnxdh_Yyxpcpww77CgkTP0tovwy8mMqvYwhDxO2agyrlDMwG28Giq7LhOsvYfvBU/s1600-h/pelamin+mimpi.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 288px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOCVWr7HaV-UH9R853zHeUcVdvbMFWZt3uBm6nfwReTjtttjav9USRCp3o-uFQe3S6UcRLDOSAibCLnxdh_Yyxpcpww77CgkTP0tovwy8mMqvYwhDxO2agyrlDMwG28Giq7LhOsvYfvBU/s400/pelamin+mimpi.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298745039142290130" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">He woke up in the middle of the night, his body covered in sweat. Sitting up on his bed, he scanned his eyes around the darkened room. Rafar sighed. He got up and fixed himself a coffee, dressed in only his boxer shorts. It has been awfully hot in Kuala Lumpur recently, and he did not have air conditioning. Hard to believe, maybe, but he was one of those rare kinds who enjoyed the comforting whir of a ceiling fan, and the captivating, hypnotic spinning of blades.<br /><br />He walked to his balcony, a stumbling, almost drunken gait, and opened the sliding doors. A breeze, warm yet somehow refreshing, blew into the living room, ruffling his messed up hair. Rafar took a long swig of the hot and bitter coffee. He made it strong, and it burned his throat going in. He did not seem to notice however. He gazed into the horizon.<br /><br />His neighbourhood had gone quiet a few hours earlier. All he could see in the streets below were occasional cars, mostly taxis, and some night owls walking the street. There was a couple making out behind a tree., making grunting noises. The sounds did not bother Rafar as much, however. To him, it was just another sound; like the creak his bed made, or the singing of crickets and the occasional crash of a bat with poor judgment into a window. It simply did not register. His mind was elsewhere.<br /><br />On the balcony was a reclined sofa, the kind psychiatrists used. The leather upholstery was already faded and stretched, with a few rips and tears. This sofa was his chill-out-chair, so to speak. Often he would spend his quieter evenings on it, listening to his MP3 player or watching television from the balcony. He did not read many books (though by the battered and dog eared copies of various Fantasy novels on the bookshelf, you could say he was more of a specialist reader) but when he did, he read it on the reclined sofa. The sofa was more often used at times like this: when he could not sleep and just needed some quiet, which a bed or a bedroom somehow did not provide for him. He supposed it was also because of sentimental value; he had spent many hours on that sofa with Evie, her head on his chest, and their fingers would twirl and dance together as they talked. That was years ago of course.<br /><br />He sat on the sofa, his back straight. He drank his coffee and finished it despite the fact it was still quite hot. For a moment he just sat quietly, hands clasped in front of his face, and stared into empty space, his eyes glassy and devoid of any real emotion. Then his eyes seemed to mist over, as if a sudden cloud of memory and thought was stirred in the deep pools of his thought, and he exhaled. It was a warm night, and the atmosphere seemed lazy and thick, the atmosphere of sleep and slumber. Which it was; dawn was still a few hours away. But Rafar no longer felt sleepy, thanks to the coffee. He just felt…<br /><br />Felt what, exactly? He did not know. It has been days since he saw Evie. Weeks since he saw Farihin. And he has been haunted by a recurring dream that he has no idea to classify if it was bad or good. Yet he has dreamed of it too often lately, and he always wakes up at a precise moment. Rafar sighed.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Do dreams really tell you something, or are they just buried memories mashed up? But how could I dream of something that happened years ago and remember every vivid detail? Why do I keep dreaming this lately? I don’t know,</span> he thought. He dreamed of the day he got married to Evie Nadia.<br /><br />..........<br /><br />.......<span style="font-style: italic;">S</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">....Sl</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">..Slo</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Slow</span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">---------------------------------<br /></div><br />"Slowly now, you don't want to hurt her finger," said Rafar's mother as he took Evie's hand to put on her wedding ring.<br /><br />Her hand was slightly trembling as he slipped the finger on. Rafar saw that Evie was looking at the act with eyes that were eager yet also unbelieving. Then the ring was on and they looked at each other and smiled. Evie’s eyes shone. She was not wearing glasses that day; instead she wore temporary contact lenses instead. Then she bent over and salam-ed and kissed his hand, and he leaned forward and kissed her forehead. From the corners of his eyes he could see the smiling faces of friends and family around them, some of them in tears of joy. Most of the older women had their hands clasped as if accepting a victory. The men were busy nodding their approval with wide grins on their faces, even if their arms were crossed like a steadfast sentry. Camera flashes popped everywhere.<br /><br />The Nikah and wedding, held by Evie’s side of the family first, was being held at a place called Kampung Pengantin, which was formerly an old bungalow lot, now converted into a place that catered almost exclusively to weddings. They provided changing rooms and an open hall with a stage, and provided the catering as well. It was situated just off Jalan Ampang.<br /><br />The Nikah ceremony that had went on about half an hour earlier was done, smoothly. Mr. Hakimi himself was the one who officiated it, and he had had tears in his eyes as he said the words that effectively let go of his one and only child, his beautiful daughter, to the man she loved. Evie had been sat behind Rafar, and she was fighting back tears herself. Her mother, and his mother, sat by her side, giving her support. Then he had put on the ring, and they salam-ed their parents and their closest relatives. It was still before noon, and now the guests to the Nikah were invited for a brunch at the hall nearby. Evie and Rafar lingered in the room for a moment as a photographer (Rafar’s friend) took pictures of them being husband and wife for the first time. They wore white for the Nikah ceremony, and Rafar thought Evie looked so beautiful, her face blossoming with life and happiness, he almost wept with joy. He felt the same way, on his part.<br /><br />The two of them lingered for a moment as the guests begin eating. They talked to a few friends and relatives. Finally Rafar’s older brother left the Nikah room, leaving the two of them alone for a moment. He wrapped his hand around Evie’s, and it folded around hers like a glove. She looked up at him.<br /><br />“Husband,” she said, the smile on her lips reaching her eyes, and she crinkled her nose in amusement. Rafar always thought she had the cutest nose, which reminded her of ‘Sam’ from the old TV show ‘Bewitched’. Rafar pulled her closer to him.<br /><br />“Wife,” he said. “I can’t believe we’re married. It’s… it’s unreal.”<br /><br />“Are you having second thoughts? Because if you are,” Evie said as she craned her neck to look at a clock on the wall. “You’re going to make me a widow after just 32 minutes of getting married.”<br /><br />“I'm not going to make you a widow. Besides, to make you a widow, wouldn’t I have to be dead instead of divorcing you?”<br /><br />Evie squinted her eyes as him. “Oh my God what are we talking about? We’re married! Let’s go eat dear, I'm starving.” They walked hand in hand to the buffet, and Rafar felt an unbelievable and unexpected sense of pleasure and pride as admiring eyes followed them wherever they went. They went to sit at the table with their parents and they talked long and good, all of them enjoying the moment. The bersanding ceremony was schedule at evening.<br /><br />Afterwards their parents and families went back first. Rafar and Evie stayed behind at Kampung Pengantin as they needed time to get ready. The color theme of the wedding was all white as well; this was Evie’s choice. Initially they dressed in separate rooms, but then were brought into one room for the make up and other cosmetic enhancements. Rafar felt a bit uncomfortable, mostly because the person doing his make up was a gay fruit called ‘Sofia’ but whose real name was Sufian. Evie giggled looking at Rafar, who was always awkward around men with that extra ‘flamboyance’. But as he had foundation and mascara (<span style="font-style: italic;">mascara!!</span>) applied to him he stole glances at his bride. While he thought Evie looked good enough as she is, he had to admit the lady doing Evie’s make up knew her job; he watched slowly as Evie was transformed from a pretty girl into a beautiful, almost Elven-like being. For a moment he was reminded of the mythical princesses of the countless fantasy books he’s read, all of them impossibly gorgeous. And now here was one sitting but a few feet away from him.<br /><br />He held out his hand, she took it.<br /><br />Soon afterwards Evie was fully dressed and ready. She stood in front of a mirror, and twirled around to look at herself. Rafar, all dressed up in a suave white songket number, admired his wife. Her wedding dress was a white kebaya, with sheer sleeves and a slim, fitting blouse. The sarong she wore fit her shape and clung to her, accentuating her long legs. A shining tiara rested on her hair.<br /><br />“How do I look?” Evie asked him. Her eyes had a trace amount of insecurity in them. Rafar looked at her top to bottom, his hand on the fake keris in his sampin. His eyes finally rested on the gold necklace on Evie’s neck; the pendant hung just above her bosom, a deep red crystal embedded within, the red like blood upon the snow of her skin.<br /><br />“You look amazing,” Rafar said. Evie smiled. The make up artists took pictures of them both, and they laughed and joked for a moment.<br /><br />Then they were ready; it was after Maghrib now and the guests were all there, already enjoying the buffet and the music. Evie and Rafar had been escorted outside for their entrance, and were now waiting for the <span style="font-style: italic;">kompang</span> to begin. They stood side by side. Rafar’s brother, Razif, was his <span style="font-style: italic;">pengapit</span>, whilst Evie’s was Juliza. Their parade was joined by family members from both sides, uncles and aunts and cousins, some wielding cameras and some content with mobile phones. Again Rafar and Evie linked hands. Then the kompang boys started their beat. It was time to move.<br /><br />“Ready sayang?” Rafar said.<br /><br />Evie looked at him and raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Are you?”<br /><br />They were given a cue and started their ‘march’. They walked slowly, in rhythm with the music. Three flower girls, little cousins of both of them, sprinkled rose petals at their feet. They passed by a covered passageway, the garden rack above them creeping with orchids that had fat white and purple flowers. The night was cool and the atmosphere exciting. Again the flashes from a thousand cameras burst in the air. All the guests had momentarily stopped what they were doing and were looking at the bride and groom make their way to the <span style="font-style: italic;">pelamin </span>for the <span style="font-style: italic;">bersanding </span>ceremony.<br /><br />“I feel like I have a thousand eyes on me,” Evie said.<br /><br />“That’s because you do have a thousand eyes on you dear. We are the King and Queen of The Day you know. Your subjects are watching you.”<br /><br />Finally they reached the <span style="font-style: italic;">pelamin</span> and took their seats. Rafar felt a little awkward being the center of attention. But hey, it was his wedding after all. The ceremony soon commenced; the folk who did the <span style="font-style: italic;">merenjis</span> for them were their parents, their grandparents and the elder uncles and aunts as well as their guest of honor, a friend of Evie’s father. Afterwards Rafar and Evie were led to their dining table for the customary Makan Beradab. Evie’s appetite was still the same: she ate with as much relish at the bride and groom’s table as she would have at any other table. The difference was this time she kept her head bowed a little. They posed for a photograph of the two spooning each other food. In fact they posed for tons of photographs. Rafar, of course, had done weddings many times before behind a lens. This was the first (and at the time, only) wedding where he was not the photographer for a change.<br /><br />After dinner they cut the wedding cake, a lovely three tier confection with luscious icing and creamy, edible decorations. After that, Rafar and Evie stood on stage as Rafar sang Elton John’s <span style="font-style: italic;">‘Can You Feel The Love Tonight’</span> to her, which was her favorite love song. Evie visibly cried at the end of her number, and her mascara stained her eyes. Juliza had to hand her tissues to wipe it away, much to the amusement of the guests. They mingled with their friends and family, accepting hugs and hand shakes and pats on the back and countless wishes of a happy life until they have grandchildren and an endless stream of congratulations. By the end of the night Rafar began to feel a bit overwhelmed, and from the look on Evie’s face, he knew that she, too, was tired. It had been a long, but happy day.<br /><br />Later that night after the ceremony they had gone back to Evie’s house, where her mother and aunt had so tastefully decorated their room, the first room they’d spend the night together in. They changed into more comfortable clothes; Rafar changed into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, and Evie put on a shirt but kept her sarong. Curiously they changed separately, both of them unsure and still shy. Her extended family was at the house, having late night coffee and snacks. It was gift opening time. They had received loads of gifts and fat white envelopes no doubt stuffed with money. Rafar and Evie sat in the center of the living room as her – no,<span style="font-style: italic;"> our, </span>Rafar reminded himself – family members gathered around them, again with cameras. Rafar wondered if the batteries would run out. They unwrapped the presents, which ranged from the usual IKEA lamps, chinaware and crockery to some stranger gifts, such as a hydroponic vegetable garden set. They had had a good laugh at that one, even more so because it was from an anonymous person.<br /><br />Soon it got late and everyone decided to retire. Rafar began to feel a little nervous as he and Evie went to their room. He closed the door and locked it behind them. Dim, warm bedside lamps lit the room. The bed had been decorated for their wedding, and it had some sort of lace curtain <span style="font-size:78%;">(Rafar did not know what to call it; surely you don’t call it a mosquito net) </span>above it. The sheets were cream colored and luxurious, a gift from a wealthy spinster aunt. Rafar stood by the door, unsure for a moment. Evie sat on the bed quietly.<br /><br />They were both quiet, but it was not an awkward silence. Rather, it was anticipatory, full of hope and desire. There was a sweet tension in the air. Rafar sat beside Evie on the bed and took her hand in his. Her hands were slightly trembling and he realized that his, too, were shaking. Evie turned to face him and their faces slowly drew closer until their lips met. At first the touch was light, the kiss tender and soft, but then it turned into something deeper as he wrapped his arms around Evie. Their clothes dropped to the floor one by one, and together they climbed in between the sheets, hand in hand, their lips hardly parting. As they joined Rafar felt him self melting into a world so dreamy and beautiful, he hardly believed he was in it. Her perfume filled the air. The feel of her skin, silky smooth and soft, was a sensation that would stick with him for days on end. As he lay on top of Evie, as gentle as he could, he looked at her face., and he could never again recall just how how much in love with her he was. Her eyes were closed and her breathing was deep; she looked angelic. Rafar kissed her and their hands clasped together and Rafar looked at her hand and saw the wedding ring there, and the ring seemed to be a symbolize everything to him; a love so true, so strong, a love that would never<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">never</span>.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">neve</span>..<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">nev</span>...<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">ne</span>....<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">n...</span>...<br /><br />...........<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">-------------------------<br /></div><br />Rafar snapped out of his thoughts. He cast an eye to the clock in his living room and saw he had been idle for maybe an hour or so. It was still dark, still quiet. He thought of the dream again, if he could even call it a dream. Was it not more like a memory? A kernel of memory carved forever in his mind?<br /><br />It always ended there; the moment he looked at the ring on Evie’s hand, and when he woke up, the dream, or rather the dream of a memory of a dream, would fade and dissolve into his consciousness, just like a kitchen towel absorbs a spill on a table. And yet the dream lingered in his mind, and he kept trying to make something of it, to extract some deeper meaning, but he just did not know what, and that frustrated him.<br /><br />He lay down on his psychiatrists’ chair in the balcony, his eyes glazed and staring into thin air. He sighed. Some part of his heart accepted that perhaps this was his punishment for leaving Evie Nadia; to forever relive a beautiful moment in time, a moment unlikely to ever happen again, until Fate deems he has paid for his sin.<br /><br />-----<br /><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7420985887871930530.post-22682589741380141672009-02-01T20:16:00.000-08:002009-02-01T20:46:04.881-08:00Muhammad Rafar II<div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div>----<br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiijl3HCNUgvUIEtaE4wxqefPtkzUAOS7i_LhGXt38j98yKO40DMwZel7y9FkpP4TBcwn0uXcXwY-WzMI8AGrgwwKojowJwWtpR-558IaG56Y53Si2HoxYHEE1r7PWqn3eEcF3lzNsGmPM/s1600-h/_44128104_hitb-ap203.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 146px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiijl3HCNUgvUIEtaE4wxqefPtkzUAOS7i_LhGXt38j98yKO40DMwZel7y9FkpP4TBcwn0uXcXwY-WzMI8AGrgwwKojowJwWtpR-558IaG56Y53Si2HoxYHEE1r7PWqn3eEcF3lzNsGmPM/s400/_44128104_hitb-ap203.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298049230405750514" border="0" /></a><br />Rafar tossed his keys on the coffee table and stripped his socks off. He went to his fridge and opened a can of Coke, and downed three big gulps, grimacing at the fizzy sensation that hurt his throat. Carrying the can, he went and slumped himself on the sofa, turned on the television and surfed channels, eventually settling on Animal Planet. But he did not actually watch it; rather he threw his head backwards and stared at the ceiling.<br /><br />He slumped further into the sofa, almost sinking. He fished out his mobile phone out of his pocket and checked to see: nothing. No messages no missed calls. For the first time since a few years, Rafar felt like crap. Today’s lunch with Evie had turned out far worse than he had expected. And Evie’s words kept ringing in his ears. It stung all the more because he knew that she was right.<br /><br />Where was he when she needed him all those years ago? Where did he really go four years ago when he left her with so little reason other than ‘<span style="font-style: italic;">irreconcilable differences’</span>? He had no answers to that. He was selfish back then. Evie was right. And he was selfish today as well, because he did think that Evie would say ‘yes’ when he had told her he wanted her back. All he ever thought about was his own feelings, his own hopes and wants.<br /><br />It was perplexing, to say the least, because he remembered being head over heels in love with Evie Nadia during college. How he had made a fool out of himself one particular day, confessing his love and ‘apologizing’ over something that was nothing more than a dream. And yet… and yet the dream did eventually come true, against his expectations. And what did he do?<br /><br />He threw it all away.<br /><br />Rafar chugged back the can of Coke. He always thought that if he were not a Muslim, it would almost certainly be a can of beer instead. But there was something similar about a Coke and a beer; he supposed it was the sense of satisfaction one got when one downs it. It was a funny thought, and not an entirely nice one as well. He crushed the can, and regretted it as a few drops of Coke spilled on his shirt. He cursed, and went to the kitchen to throw the can away. While washing his hands at the sink (and dabbing cold water on the Coke stain), Rafar looked out the window of his apartment, just outside Kuala Lumpur. He had a nice view of the skyline from his balcony.<br /><br />It was late afternoon now, the air thick and heavy with humidity. He could already hear the laughter and shouts of eager children at the nearby playground. He decided to take a shower, and maybe a nap afterwards. The lunch at Raju’s was getting to his head; the spices were making him drowsy.<br /><br />Beneath the cold running water he let his thoughts run free. He was disappointed over the conversation he had had with Evie over lunch, though he felt he deserved that sort of reaction. When he had arrived he saw Evie interacting with a toddler; she was dressed in all white and looked absolutely <span style="font-style: italic;">gorgeous. </span>Gone was the skinny, bespectacled and ‘not quite there’ woman he had dated and married. In her place was a woman, graceful, benign and… majestic? Yes, he thought. Majestic.<br /><br />For the past four years since they separated, he had never made an attempt to contact her. But damn it if he did not think of her often. He did. Often on those quite nights when he was still alone, he thought of Evie, and he thought if she was all right, or was she sulking and crying over their loss?<br /><br />But what had prevented him from just saying hello, or attempting to at least mend a broken not if not totally fix it? He did not know. Male ego perhaps, or this secret, unconscious desire to prove to Evie that yes, divorcing her was a right move for him.<br /><br />In truth, in the first year of their separation, he had missed her. But he was too much of a fool to admit so. Okay. Fine, it was ego. He sighed as he washed his face with Biore For Men. It was ego that prevented him from contacting Evie. What was his problem? Was he so desperate to prove that yes, he did need to be alone? If so, then he was no different from the legions of males who had egos bigger than their heads. After all, it was not that hard to say hi or hello, wasn’t it? But then again, that would have been a bad thing for her. It would have been emotionally hard for Evie.<br /><br />He had loved Evie like he had loved no other before her. When she too, had confessed that she loved him back in the rain many years ago, he felt that the world was his for the taking, and nothing could have stood in their way. Love, it seemed, conquered all. So two years into their subsequent marriage, he suddenly found himself literally freaking out when he realized it was not what he wanted. It happened almost overnight: one day he woke up, looked at Evie's sultry form beside him and thought: I should not be here.<br /><br />He had then spent days, pondering it over in his head and heart. The love was still there, he could not deny, but the passion and the heart for it was suddenly gone. It was as if his heart was a well that had dried out in the middle of the night, leaving nothing but an empty pail.<br /><br />Rafar thought there was something missing. After two years of marriage, he suddenly felt he was not where he was supposed to be. He suddenly felt cowardly and incapable of giving Evie that happiness. Maybe it’s just a phase, he had thought initially. But that feeling of not belonging grew stronger until he could no longer deny it. Those days, he felt aloof and distant, like was seeing his very own life through another pair of eyes. It was like he was sitting at a computer, jotting down another person’s life on Microsoft Word, writing his own fiction. And more and more it just felt like he was not there; like he was disembodied.<br /><br />The fact that Evie seemed oblivious to his growing disenchantment further added to his sense of ‘not there’. But what was it really? The closest answer he considered was that he had reached the top without challenge. That he had gotten everything he ever wanted without gratification. He felt he did not earn that happiness; rather it had been given to him on a silver platter.<br /><br />Maybe it was a stupid thing to think, he thought as the cold water ran through his hair and trickled down his well-kept body. But that was the reality of his emotions at the time. Another man would have given anything and everything to have his life back then: a steady, well paying job; a nice house, a beautiful wife he bedded almost every night. But that was not enough, somehow, for him. He did not see his blood, sweat and tears go into that. He wanted more. He needed more. The growing dissatisfaction finally got hold of him. He told Evie his feelings, much to her dismay and hurt. Sometimes he wished it was another woman, an affair. That, at least, would have been easier to explain. But all he managed to tell Evie was that ‘there was something missing’.<br /><br />Yes, they had talked about it. She had cried over it; sobbing until her eyes were red and her throat went dry. In the end she had said she would let him go, if that was what he wanted. He had told her it was, and so she did. She had let him go. Evie was the one who was sacrificed for his own sake. On the day they officially separated, they did not even speak to say goodbye to each other. He knew Evie did not have the heart to do so; but he just did not want to. Rafar then just faded; one day he was there… the next, he was gone.<br /><br />Now, in retrospect, Rafar realized that was the most selfish act he had ever done.<br /><br />But at the time he had not let that bring him down. Despite the fact that he <span style="font-style: italic;">did </span>miss his ex-wife, he buried it in the furthest corner of his mind with work. He drowned himself in a sea of jobs and projects. He got to know the right people and mingled with the right crowds. Pretty soon he made a name for himself in the photography arena, and combined with his talented skills, it was not long before he was renowned amongst the A list of Kuala Lumpur.<br /><br />One year after the divorce, Rafar got into his stride. He no longer thought as much about the divorce, or about Evie. His career was building up greatly, and he was in the right crowds. Women? There were plenty, and he was not sorry to say he dated during that time period, though never seriously and always for fun. Three years of being a single man gave him plenty of time to have fun, if he could call it that. Like Evie, there was always an element missing from those flings. Unlike Evie, Rafar actually could not care less. He was content.<br /><br />But some three years ago, he bumped into Evie at Pavilion KL and suddenly had felt this huge urge to ask her out, but he did not muster enough courage at the time to do so. That meeting, for a few short minutes, had suddenly, inexplicably conjured a swirling cloud of emotions inside him. But it had only lasted that few short minutes, and soon enough, he resigned to the fact he probably was not going to see her again. So he went on with his job, and met a few girls here and there. Once an upcoming young starlet had fondled his crotch during a dinner, obviously intoxicated.<br /><br />Rafar was into photography because he loved it, however, and not because he got to work with celebrities and have his fifteen minutes of fame. He was not looking for a relationship at all when he met Farihin at KL Fashion Week. But they had hit if off immediately. Only recently did he admit to himself he was attracted to Farihin because she was almost exactly like Evie was when he had fallen in love with her. They had the same bright, electric energy coming off in waves from their smiles, their laughter, and the way their eyes seemed to shine when they got excited. He enjoyed Farihin’s company; she was young and he supposed being with him would also give her a boost in her career. After all he knew the right people to help her on her way.<br /><br />Farihin, on her part, seemed to be infatuated with him. He did not know if she actually loved him (though breaking up with her proved she did) at the time, but he knew that her company was the kind he had secretly missed since his separation from Evie Nadia. Farihin even looked somewhat similar, but maybe this was just a way of him justifying himself.<br /><br />The truth was, in a year long relationship with Farihin, he did not love her. Yes, he was attracted, deeply, but he did not feel the same emotions in his heart the way he had felt for Evie Nadia years ago. Farihin did not give him a rush of blood to his head when she told him “I love you Rafar” like Evie did. Farihin <span style="font-style: italic;">kissed him</span> once; it was in his car when he was dropping her off at home. She had kissed him on the lips, suddenly, and though the average man would have loved for that to happen, the only thought that had run through Rafar’s head at the time was that they shouldn’t be kissing; she was not his wife, and most of all, at that exact moment, he had thought how sweeter and warmer Evie’s lips had felt on his. It was a strange and foreign experience to him.<br /><br />Rafar turned off the tap, suddenly realizing he had stood under the shower long enough that the skin of his fingers were shriveled and cold. He dried himself with a towel and dressed; outside the sun was glowing deep orange, nearing dusk. The sound of children at the playground had lessened. The day was taking a bow. He fixed himself a light snack and settled in front of the television again. He felt a ghost on his shoulder; a phantom sensation of someone resting her head on his shoulder. He told Evie that during lunch, earlier. That he had fallen in love with a ghost, that Farihin was nothing more than another Evie, and alternate Evie.<br /><br />He felt a sudden, deep welling of shame. He<span style="font-style: italic;"> was </span>selfish. He had broken off with Farihin all because he thought he could have Evie back. The only saving grace was that Farihin did not take it too hard, though who was he to tell? For all he knew, Farihin was crying her heart out somewhere. That thought made him feel worse. He could almost feel his heart sinking in a pit of self-loathing.<br /><br />It was terribly unfair to Farihin. She was a victim of his own selfishness. just the same as Evie was years ago. This time it was Farihin that was sacrificed all because Rafar thought he wanted something else. Who knew if he would actually end up happy with Farihin instead? Now there was no way of knowing. He doubted Farihin would accept him back after this. He did not want to anyway; it was enough to assume Evie would accept him. He did not want to hold the same assumptions for Farihin.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Can’t I do anything for someone other than myself? </span> he thought.<br /><br />Now he’s let a pretty young girl go, and lost the beautiful woman he was once with. His head felt fuzzy and confused, and Rafar lay down on his sofa, listening to someone on the TV babble about how polar bears have black skin beneath their white fur.<br /><br />He thought about calling Evie but figured she probably would not want to speak with him. His eyes fell upon a tiny object on the coffee table, an object he had placed there. Evie’s ring. He picked it up, studying it. He remembered the day he had put it on her lovely finger, after the Nikah ceremony. A strong memory flooded him. He thought of their first night together, how they shared their first, true kiss, and how they had come together, skin on skin. He remembered being lost in each other’s love, melting into a world that belonged to just the two of them. Most of all he remembered reaching for her hand and seeing that ring on her finger, and thinking how lucky and grateful he was to have her.<br /><br />Rafar fiddled with the ring in his hands before putting it back down again. He felt foolish, stupid and angry with himself. Maybe he got what he deserved. He did not even think if maybe Evie was seeing someone else. He felt irritated with himself again, and tried to shake of the thought. He tried to take a nap, but all that came to mind was the image of Evie, standing in the sunlight, dressed in all white with a pink bandanna holding up her hair.<br /><br />He missed her. Always had, maybe. It’s just that it took him four years to fully realize how much.<br /><br />--------<br /><br /><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7420985887871930530.post-19607139183933507192009-01-30T19:39:00.000-08:002009-01-30T21:25:21.502-08:00She Felt Stronger<div style="text-align: center;">-------<br /><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTCCyfBe4OTQJaWc27BonbFe9OL5MymhKFpqmhkk6Uktwff4W-Vt8Ng7YHftJw6Fl10pvExw89ioPtLMUfELgOiZlY2zeL0RApQXmNVLD2263TVCSPXDVHJDSs49ykvH8ZmKSJR1oKcDY/s1600-h/ring.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 303px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTCCyfBe4OTQJaWc27BonbFe9OL5MymhKFpqmhkk6Uktwff4W-Vt8Ng7YHftJw6Fl10pvExw89ioPtLMUfELgOiZlY2zeL0RApQXmNVLD2263TVCSPXDVHJDSs49ykvH8ZmKSJR1oKcDY/s400/ring.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5297303363267836706" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />Evie Nadia loved Sundays.<br /><br />Sundays were her own personal ‘me’ days, where she spent her time doing things she liked. For instance when she woke up this morning she had turned on the TV and made a big pancake breakfast, complete with whipped cream and strawberries and syrup. She ate it while she watched all manners of Sunday morning TV shows: girly stuff, news, sitcom reruns and even cartoons. Then she sat cross-legged on her sofa and read the newspaper. While she did that, she wondered what should she be doing this afternoon. She had already planned to drop by her parents’ house in Wangsa Maju for dinner, but she also did not want to be sitting idle at home doing nothing.<br /><br />Maybe she should go shopping? She could use a pair of new shoes (girls could always use a pair of new shoes), or maybe do some grocery shopping at Cold Storage or Tesco’s. Is the car dirty? She thought, trying to picture her white VW Golf covered in grime, but knew she had just washed it a few days ago in fact. She made a note to herself to get her dad a chocolate cheesecake, his favorite, from Secret Recipe before she left for their house. Evie also thought she wanted to ask if Adam would go out with her; but then she remembered it was a Sunday and he would be busy at the restaurant.<br /><br />The thought of Adam brought a faint blush to her cheeks. She had been seeing him often now for the past three months or so. She liked him. She could tell he was into her as well, but Evie was not letting herself rush into this, of course. She supposed there was a little bit of romance going on there; she felt it and she was sure he did, too, in the way their conversation lingered in the air before trailing off in a comfortable (yet awkward) silence, and the way at times they were so careful with their words, both of them only dipping their toes in the water to check the temperature and current.<br /><br />She had forgotten what it was like to be in love, but she was sure it was probably not far off. She was not in love with Adam… not yet, anyway, but she knew she possibly well could be, on her way and that would be something beautiful. But right now, all Evie wanted was to have a good time with the charming and funny chef. In truth she was still afraid and a bit too proud to admit she liked him a lot. Maybe that was a bit old fashioned, as old fashioned as winking, but she would like it if Adam would be the first to initiate something bigger, and maybe actually ask her to be his girlfriend. <span style="font-style: italic;">God, I haven’t been someone’s girlfriend since, ever. </span>Three months seems okay enough, she thought. Again that made her feel like a schoolgirl. But what were crushes and love if not timeless and ageless?<br /><br />Last week during dinner she noticed Adam kept looking at the ring on her left hand; her wedding ring. She had already told him she had been married once, and he seemed okay with it. But now she wondered now if the ring was what kept Adam from taking things to another level. When they had walked later on his hand kept brushing hers; she wanted to hold his, and she knew, just knew, Adam wanted to hold her hands too. Maybe someday later then.<br /><br />Still undecided on what to do to pass her time before going to her parents’, Evie grabbed her cordless house phone to call Adam. She missed him, although she was not yet fully aware of the fact. Just as she dialed the numbers, however, her cell phone rang from inside the room. Evie got up and stubbed her toe on the chair; she cursed out loud and grimaced, and hobbled to her bedside. She grabbed her phone and crashed herself on the bed, with one hand rubbing her toe. Evie glanced at the caller ID and frowned. It was not a number she recognized; usually that meant work, and the thought of work on a Sunday dampened her spirits a little. She pressed the ‘accept’ key.<br /><br />“Hello?” she said.<br /><br />“Evie?” said the voice on the other line. Evie raised her eyebrows.<br /><br />“Rafar?”<br /><br />------------<br /><br />Two hours later she was at Raju’s Banana Leaf restaurant in Petaling Jaya, standing in front of the deep fryers the restaurant had. On a normal occasion she would be excited to come by there and take her pick from the various seafood and meats available. But today she was not particularly interested. She moved away from the deep fryers as she couldn’t stand the heat, and got annoyed at herself for standing in front of there in the first place. The waiters eyed her admiringly; it was a hot, sunny day, and Evie had put on a white t-shirt and comfy, airy white pants. She held her hair up with a pink bandana and had her big sunglasses on. Standing in the sunlight, she shone like a beacon.<br /><br />Where is he? She thought; she did not know if her impatience had to do with the heat, or the fact she had agreed to meet him here. Evie recalled the telephone conversation earlier.<br /><br />“Hi… Yes, it’s me. Do you have a moment?” Rafar had said.<br /><br />“Uh, yeah,” Evie said, her eyebrows furrowed. “What’s going on? Where did you get this number, by the way?”<br /><br />There was a silence.<br /><br />“I asked Juliza.”<br /><br />“Oh okay… so… what’s up?” Evie said. Her toe still hurt, but the pain was subsiding.<br /><br />“Evie, I… Well… Listen, are you free for lunch?”<br /><br />“Uh…”<br /><br />“Please?”<br /><br />Evie sighed and closed her eyes. “What’s going on Rafar?”<br /><br />“I just need to see you. Just for lunch. Today.”<br /><br />Evie glanced at her bedside clock. “What time?” she asked. Rafar told her half past one, at Raju’s in Petaling Jaya. Evie considered if she should agree and go, or if she should make an excuse and do her own thing. She must have been quiet for sometime.<br /><br />“Evie? You there?” Rafar said.<br /><br />“Yes, sorry…”<br /><br />“Will you come? It’s my treat. Please?”<br /><br />Evie had rolled her eyes and agreed. Rafar told her to be there half-past-one and wait for him. Evie wondered if he would come with his girlfriend. What’s her name? Farihin? Yes, that was it. She also wondered why, out of a sudden, did he call her up and ask her out to lunch. There must be something important then. Maybe he was getting married? Anyway, she had agreed and it was too late to back-out. She texted Adam saying she was going out for lunch. Adam had replied ten minutes late, with a smiley face:<span style="font-style: italic;"> ‘:( wish I w</span>as <span style="font-style: italic;">there</span>.’<br /><br />So here she was at Raju’s, except it was almost 2pm and the sun was absolutely searing, and still no sign of Rafar. Evie waited another ten minutes; well aware the waiters of the restaurant were looking at her. A Chinese family passed by her, and their toddler, maybe no more than two years old, suddenly came to her and tugged at her pants. Evie smiled and squatted, saying hi and caressed the toddler’s cheek. She loved babies. The toddler smiled at her and touched her face, as if examining her. Evie giggled. How innocent! Then the child’s mother came by and smiled at Evie, saying her son was a bit too friendly with strangers. Evie gently pinched the baby’s cheek and they went away. When she stood up she saw Rafar standing in front of her. Her smile faded.<br /><br />“You’re late,” she said. “I’ve been waiting half an hour.”<br /><br />Rafar shrugged, a gesture she had deemed adorable long ago, but today seemed to annoy her a bit. Was he always like this last time? Carefree; care-less? Then she told herself that she was just irritated out of spite. After all, she did agree to come her by herself. She let her feelings calm down. She should not be antagonistic.<br /><br />“Come, let’s take a seat. I'm starving.” Rafar said.<br /><br />They had their lunch in silence, neither of them talking much, except the general ‘Oh, how’s work, how’s life, how are your parents’ doing?’ question and answer session. Evie felt a bit disconcerted to realize the man she had nothing much to say to was the man she had loved so desperately years ago, the man she had talked to everything about and kept no secrets from. It was even stranger considering the fact that she always thought she had so many things to ask him and tell him after their divorce. But now she had run out of words; or maybe she just did not need to know the answers to those buried questions anymore. The image of Adam lingered in the back of her mind, and she kept comparing him and Rafar. Finally she told herself to stop that.<br /><br />They finished and had their ‘plates’ taken away. They had frequented this place often when they dated, and after they got married. When they went for a seat, both of them went straight away to ‘their’ table: the table they always sat at back in the day. It was subconscious, probably, but Evie had the feeling both of them were aware of that. Maybe they should have chosen another spot, one with no such memories or sentiments attached to it. But too late for that now. Evie thought Rafar would bring Farihin, but she was not surprised to see he did not.<br /><br />“So why the sudden generosity, Rafar?” Evie said, realizing she had almost called him Wiseguy. “To what do I owe you this favor?”<br /><br />“You owe me nothing,” he said. “It is I that owe you something… or some things. Well, I just thought it would be nice to see you…”<br /><br />Evie cocked an eyebrow at him. He fidgeted in his seat. Their table was beneath a shady tree, and it seemed a few degrees cooler than before.<br /><br />“I also wanted to apologize…” he said.<br /><br />“For what?”<br /><br />“The last time we met I was terribly inconsiderate of your feelings. That was a bad thing. So for that, I'm sorry.”<br /><br />“And you’re buying me off with a banana-leaf lunch? That’s real classy.” Evie said, smiling and sipping her sweet lassi.<br /><br />“Ehehe, well, that’s not totally it…” Rafar said and bowed his head down. He had his hands clasped together in front of him on the table, like was handcuffed. Evie waited. When it seemed that he was not going to say anything, Evie asked him how were things with Farihin. Rafar looked at her thoughtfully, and nodded.<br /><br />“So?” Evie said, leaning a bit forward.<br /><br />“I'm not seeing her anymore,” he answered. “We broke up about a month ago…”<br /><br />“Oh... I'm sorry…”<br /><br />“Don’t be… I was the one who broke up with her.”<br /><br />“That is what you’re good at anyway.” Evie said. She meant it in good humor, and was surprised at herself for being able to make that joke. But maybe it came off too harsh.<br /><br />“Well, you know…” he said. He looked her in the eyes. “Sometimes things just don’t work out the way you plan it to.”<br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><br />Touché</span>.<br /><br />“So how did she take it?”<br /><br />“Quite well actually. We talked about it. At first it seemed like she would cry; and she did, but just a little. But we hugged and said farewell. She did not seem that crippled about it, so to speak.”<br /><br />“Oh. Good for her then. If I may ask..?”<br /><br />“Sure.”<br /><br />“Why?”<br /><br />Rafar stared at his own clasped hands. Evie studied the man; for the first time since she knew him, he looked unsure or afraid. Evie propped her chin on one hand and gazed at Rafar, trying to figure out what he was about to say. He had his head down, and his eyes betrayed the swirling thoughts inside his mind. Finally he looked up.<br /><br />“It was because of you,” he said. Evie’s elbow slipped. She sat straight up in her chair, and she squinted a little.<br /><br />“What?” she said, thinking she heard him wrong. This time Rafar leaned forward on the table.<br /><br />“It was because of you.”<br /><br />“I heard you first time before Wiseguy, that <span style="font-style: italic;">‘what’ </span>constitutes a <span style="font-style: italic;">‘what in the world do you mean by that?’</span> ‘what’.” She was feeling a bit angry now. What the hell was this? Rafar looked away to his sides, like he was confessing a crime. He bit his lips and cracked his knuckles. Evie leaned back in her chair, and crossed her arms in front of her. She too, bit her lower lip, her heart beating a bit faster.<br /><br />“Evie, I never really told you why we… we separated. All the court and all the people know it was on the grounds of ‘irreconcilable differences’, and that was enough back then as an explanation.”<br /><br />Evie suddenly felt a real stab of anger. “Oh sure, that was enough.”<br /><br />“Look… I divorced you because I suddenly felt I was unhappy, and incomplete. Like I told you last time, I felt it would be both unfair for me and for you if I had stayed on; I would be lying to myself and I would be lying to you. I had to get away, and seek a better answer.”<br /><br />Evie bit her lip but did not say anything. Rafar went on.<br /><br />“I know you felt it was terribly unfair for you. And I guess I was a jerk for leaving it at that; I mean, for just leaving after we made it clear. I know I never made an attempt to apologize, or to say hi, or to just be friends with you. But I also knew that that was not what you wanted at the time. And back then, our wants and needs were too different to set aside. So I… I let you go.”<br /><br />Evie mumbled under breath. “Tell me something I don’t know.”<br /><br />“Okay. What you don’t know is how guilty I felt the day we divorced; how heart-wrenching it was when I saw you crying by yourself, and how terrible it felt to know I had wronged you. But I could not have done it any other way. I have to admit when we separated, I felt like an enormous burden was lifted off my shoulders; not just the burden to me, but for you as well. Can you honestly say that you would rather have had me stay even if it meant that we were fooling ourselves?”<br /><br />Evie stared at him.<br /><br />“Evie, we spent years apart after that. Remember when we met that day at Pavilion sometime after Hari Raya a few years back? God knew how much I wanted to ask you out. But I don’t remember what stopped me: my own ego, or maybe I thought you hated me and would have said no anyway. And then last year I met Farihin.”<br /><br />“What. Is. Your. Point. Rafar?” Evie said. She refused to look at him, instead glancing sideways. She saw the toddler who had greeted her and waved, trying to hide her apparent discomfort.<br /><br />“It was not Farihin that I fell for, Evie. It was a ghost. A ghost of you. A memory of you, a shadow, call it what you want, but after seeing you again the other day, I realized then that when I fell for Farihin, all I was falling for was another you. An alternate you.”<br /><br />Evie rolled her eyes. She’s heard <span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">that</span> before. She tapped her feet on the table stand. She felt like she wanted to be somewhere else. Anywhere but here.<br /><br />“I missed you. That was the biggest thing I realized. Seeing you at Juliza’s wedding, you took my breath away. I almost kicked myself in the nuts when I realized what a beautiful and amazing woman I had let go…” Rafar said. He sighed and looked down on his hands again. “I’ve made many mistakes in my life. Letting you go was the worst.”<br /><br />Evie turned her gaze on him. Her lips were puckered up, angry. She stared hard the Rafar, but he did not notice. When he looked up Evie turned her gaze away. She did not want to look him in the face, in the eyes. Not right now.<br /><br />“Evie… it’s been four years. I know now where I stand, and where I should have stood. I’ve always loved you. Always. I know in some way or the other you feel the same way. Evie, I want you back. I want to be with you again. I want you back.”<br /><br />That did it. She turned her gaze on Rafar, hard and piercing. She leaned forward and spoke in a clear but low voice.<br /><br />“You called me here for this?” she said. He nodded, clearly surprised at the cold fury in her voice.<br /><br />“You call me up here and have your little speech. It’s all so nice and what-not with your falling in love with ghosts and your ‘alternate yous’, you make it sound so romantic and chivalrous, like this was a Nicholas Sparks novel, and that everything will end with a happy ever after, just like a fairy tale. You come up with all that after leaving me because of 'irreconcilable differences' years ago, like it was some sort of a little mistake. How do you think it’s supposed to make me feel? What did you expect me to say?<br /><br />You talk about making a mistake and how you’re sorry for it and oh how you want me back. What do you take me for Rafar? I can’t believe you’re saying this. Where were you when I really needed you back then? Where were you when I cried myself to sleep on so many nights, just WISHING you’d suddenly knock on the bedroom door and tell me it was all just a bad dream? Where were you back then? Looking for that something to complete you?”<br /><br />Rafar was quiet; stunned.<br /><br />“You know what?” Evie said. “When I saw you at Juliza’s wedding I felt a mixture of emotions; sadness, anger, love, envy. But when we talked and went for coffee I truly realized how things have moved on between us. I guess maybe if that had happened two years earlier I would have gone back crying and wishing you were there with me. But I was proud when I realized I did not. I was a bit proud to realize you had no answer when I asked you what was it you wanted; I was proud because I saw that I had actually gotten over grieving the end of us. It was a huge moment for me.<br /><br />Now suddenly you say 'I want you back', as if it's the simplest, most natural thing in the world. Be honest with me, Rafar: you thought I would immediately say ‘yes’ and that ‘I missed you all this time’ and come back into your arms straight away didn’t you?”<br /><br />Rafar nodded, but slowly, unsure of himself. Evie shook her head.<br /><br />“So pretentious! But you’re right: things don’t always turn out the way you want it to. Spare me the speech next time,” Evie said. And then more softly.<br /><br />“I'm sorry if I'm being brash, or rude. But you can’t just expect me to forget the pain you’ve caused me. Yes, you must have felt it too, but why didn’t you do anything about it back then? Is it my fault then, that I respected your wishes to be left alone?<br /><br />If so, I'm sorry. I really am. But I'm not that crying woman you saw at the Syariah court anymore Rafar. I'm not.”<br /><br />She held up her left hand, and took off her wedding ring. She placed it on the table. His eyes followed her hand as she pushed it towards him.<br /><br />“I'm just Evie Nadia, and I want to live my life the way I choose it.” With that, Evie got up. Rafar still sat there quiet.<br /><br />“Thank you so much for lunch. And it is good to see you. I can’t deny that. But I think you’re just being selfish. I'm sorry. Goodbye Rafar. I'll see you around sometime. Maybe.”<br /><br />Evie left.<br /><br />--------<br /><br />As she drove she calmed down. She glanced at the clock in the car and saw she had plenty of time left before going to her parents’ house. Besides, she needed to get her father a chocolate cheesecake as well. She decided to head back to her apartment and have a shower and a change of clothes; plus, the lunch at Raju’s had made her drowsy. She thought a nap would be nice.<br /><br />When she reached home about half and hour later she had her shower and her change of clothes. Outside the sun was still hot and shining. Evie went to her living room and opened the sliding door and the windows; a gentle breeze made its way in. She lay down on the sofa, slowly feeling sleep get to her. But just before she fell asleep, she raised her left hand and glanced at the ring; except the ring was no longer there, she had left it with Rafar earlier, and now all that was left was a strip of skin that was even lighter in tone compared to her already very fair skin.<br /><br />She drew a deep breath; her hand felt lighter, although that was surely just in her mind. More importantly, she felt that taking of the ring was a symbolic and significant act to do. Why she had waited so long, she did not know. Perhaps she was afraid.<br /><br />But now that she took it off, Evie felt only one feeling surge through her body, filling her heart with warmth.<br /><br />She felt stronger.<br /><br />-------<br /><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7420985887871930530.post-67894089760584469282009-01-28T13:25:00.001-08:002009-01-28T17:17:13.330-08:00Interlude: Evie Nadia Sketches<div style="text-align: center;">---<br /></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8Z2uBaMwanfgIPgzipQ0pOCgvJb60RnCzXf0XgGef211LIINWmklYdYJsUVcctZ9M30zBH2K5TzlicNk_ewt8Xlw9klVMZWp1lA5qSNpLVfnxVnEpzNLmA7oiZZT6QraaWxsc7d0XL5wj/s1600-h/evie+bordered.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 351px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8Z2uBaMwanfgIPgzipQ0pOCgvJb60RnCzXf0XgGef211LIINWmklYdYJsUVcctZ9M30zBH2K5TzlicNk_ewt8Xlw9klVMZWp1lA5qSNpLVfnxVnEpzNLmA7oiZZT6QraaWxsc7d0XL5wj/s400/evie+bordered.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5296456514958714450" border="0" /></a>Evie Nadia Hakimi, as she is currently<br /><br />more at <a href="http://edwan.blogspot.com/2009/01/evie-nadia-sketches.html">Incense+Peppermints</a><br /></div><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-size:85%;" ><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /></span></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 102);font-size:85%;" ><span style="font-style: italic;">pictures drawn using a Wacom Bamboo One Digital Graphics Tablet.<br /><br />--------<br /></span></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7420985887871930530.post-62029807844778255402009-01-25T20:56:00.000-08:002009-01-23T11:32:48.283-08:00Evie and Adam, Then<div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div>-------<br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhauRuqJcEJuuLnta1J0KlNOVAkDaKOw5krHA7ZEXMhpFbEjAmeHkHxQh7YvnwE2kucQXe-srVNE9BUpguI12hZbrMFsAxLmjwY2S830qSWkSntpL7sFUGm1I1Vysuch7V_dzlURju3w-A/s1600-h/98524017XZyIxd_fs.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhauRuqJcEJuuLnta1J0KlNOVAkDaKOw5krHA7ZEXMhpFbEjAmeHkHxQh7YvnwE2kucQXe-srVNE9BUpguI12hZbrMFsAxLmjwY2S830qSWkSntpL7sFUGm1I1Vysuch7V_dzlURju3w-A/s400/98524017XZyIxd_fs.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294350098998717970" border="0" /></a><br />She had met the guy a few weeks back at a restaurant, where she was having lunch with some clients. And today is the day to tell the story.<br /><br />Evie Nadia strolled beneath the streetlights of Jalan Bukit Bintang. She had always been partial to this place. Despite the relatively early hour, Bukit Bintang was bustling with people. She loved the atmosphere, the sense of occasion that seemed to radiate from the heart of the road. She loved the shopping malls, from Sungei Wang Plaza where she could find the tackiest knick-knacks, to the ridiculously upscale Starhill Gallery. Her sense always seemed to go on overload whenever she came by this busy shopping district; and she loved it.<br /><br />Beside her, the man who had picked her up from her apartment and taken her to dinner casually walked with his hands in his pockets. Evie sensed that he was a bit nervous, as if he was not so sure of what to talk about. Sometimes he would open his mouth to say something, only to close it again and smile bashfully at her. Evie, on her part, just liked to see him so obviously try. She found it adorable. She did not have much to say herself, and for the moment, she let her eyes be dazzled by the neon lights littering the street, turning it into a grounded Milky Way. There was, however, a curious little smile carved on her lips.<br /><br />The two of them walked in silence, and for a moment they were content. The man seemed to sense the futility or rather the silliness of attempting small talk right now, and had settled into a comfortable silence beside Evie. Evie clasped her handbag with both hands in front of her, her head slightly bowed down, her eyes shaded. For some reason she felt like a fourteen year old on her first date. It was the shy yet sweet awkwardness of it that made her feel that way.<br /><br />-------------<br /><br />A few weeks ago Evie had lunch with a client at a new and classy restaurant at Bangsar. The food, simple yet beautifully presented, was exquisite. Evie was there with her client to discuss a new advertising project. The client, a Datin in her 40’s, was so stereotypical of a ‘Datin’ that Evie thought she was almost a parody of herself. Evie loathed her, in fact, but she was an important client to the advertising firm she worked at, and said firm had asked her to be the Datin’s personal liaison for the project she was currently commissioning. Of course, Evie had to pay for the lunch, which, as she had expected, was priced just like the food: ‘exotic’ and ‘exquisite’ are two words to describe it. When she had looked at the bill she knew instantly that it was not a place she would frequent.<br /><br />Despite the great food, Evie was a lady of simpler tastes: her favorite meal would consist of rice and beef rendang with sambal belachan and ulam, or maybe a crabstick and mayonnaise sandwich. But a Datin would require Datin-class food, so there she was. She put her credit card on the bill folder, but much to her annoyance, their waitress was nowhere to be seen. In fact, there were no waitresses at all, not even the pretty Indian hostess who had seated her and the Datin.<br /><br />Evie had finally excused herself from the Datin and picked up the bill with her card to bring to the front, expecting to see one member of service staff there. Instead there was a tall man, in a black chef’s jacket and faded Levi’s standing over the register, thumbing through what looked like a diary, the kind a secretary uses. The man had his back to her.<br /><br />“Excuse me, I need to pay the bill”, Evie said. Much to her amusement, the man turned around quickly, surprised. He had not noticed Evie coming up behind him.<br /><br />“I'm sorry, you startled me”, he said.<br /><br />“Oh, then I'm the one who should be sorry then”, Evie apologized. “Could you happen to see if you can get me someone to handle my bill?” Evie handed the man the bill with her credit card, which he took. The man studied the bill for a moment.<br /><br />“Isn’t your waitress there to assist you?”<br /><br />Evie shook her head. “No, it seems they’re… missing…”<br /><br />The man gave a laugh. “Alright then. Okay. I’ll take care of your bill for you. Please, have a seat. Would you like a drink? It’s on the house. Take it as a gesture of apology for the missing waitresses”<br /><br />Evie smiled and refused. “It’s okay. Maybe the waitresses went for a drink or something”<br /><br />“Indeed. I should have a word with them about taking sudden breaks when there are customers seated waiting to be served. Why don’t you have a seat, Miss, while I take care of your bill here”<br /><br />“It’s alright, I’ll wait. I don’t mind. I’d prefer to wait here than to sit in front of a dragon lady”. The man raised his eyebrows, uncomprehending. Evie raised a hand, indicating ‘never mind’. The man smiled at her, a curiously charming smile that was also infectious. She could not help but smile back. As the man began to process her bill, she looked at him. He was a head taller than her, with broad shoulders that the loose fitting chef jacket could not hide. He was good looking, and to Evie, looked more suited to be some sort of bohemian traveler than a chef. He had a shaggy head of hair, straight and dark brown, and a prominent five o’clock shadow. He spoke in a polite and smooth way. In fact, the guy reminded her of George Clooney. Minus the grey hair and dimpled chin, of course.<br /><br />“There you go… sign here please”, the man said as he handed her the receipt and a pen. Evie signed the bill and handed the pen back to him, smiling (rather foolishly, she thought) as she did so. The man smiled back at her. “Thank you for your custom”<br /><br />Evie rummaged in her handbag, looking for her purse to store the credit card. “Do chefs always do bills here?”<br /><br />“Oh, only me”, the man said.<br /><br />“And why is that?”<br /><br />The man rubbed his neck. “Well, because your waitress is missing. And because I know how. And because it’s my place anyway”<br /><br />Evie looked up. “You’re the owner?”<br /><br />The man smiled broadly, clearly proud. He extended his hand. “Hi, I'm Adam. And yeah, this restaurant right here is my pride and joy”<br /><br />Evie shook his hand, expecting it to be rough from all the kitchen work. Instead his hand was soft as silk; almost as soft as hers! He must have noticed the slightly surprised expression on her face.<br /><br />“I know. Girly hands huh? But I assure you; I do cook in this kitchen. Well, maybe not all the time. But often enough” he said. Evie laughed, which she did not expect to do.<br /><br />“Nice to meet you Chef Adam”<br /><br />“Oh God, please no. Just Adam would do”<br /><br />“Ehehe. All right then. Adam it is. Your food was lovely by the way. I have to get back to the dragon at my table. She needs to be driven back to her lair, unfortunately” Evie said while motioning with her head to the direction of the Datin. She felt that she wanted to stay here and chat. There was just something so… charming about Adam. That was the best way she could put it into words.<br /><br />“Of course. Here’s my card. Hope you’d come again. Give me a call and I’ll see to it you get the best seat in the house”, Adam said and handed her a black business card with white lettering. On it was written the name of the restaurant (‘Luna’), his name (‘Adam Amirulkhair’) and a phone number. Evie fished her own card out of her purse and gave it to him as well.<br /><br />“Hi Evie… pleasure to meet you”, he said as he eyed the card. Evie smiled and excused herself, and much to her amusement, Adam winked at her. <span style="font-style: italic;">God, who does that these days! </span>Evie thought. She went back to her table where the Datin was waiting, feeling curiously cheerful for no reason. Even the thought of driving back to her office with the Datin beside her did not seem so bad anymore. Hell, she even bought the Datin a frappe afterwards.<br /><br />A few days after that lunch, Evie got a call just as she was about to leave her office. It was Adam. She was surprised, but pleasantly so. He sounded just as charming over the phone as he was in real life. He asked her where she was; she replied she was in her office, about to go back home.<br /><br />“Hey, listen… if you’re free-ish one of these days, would you like to go for maybe a cup of coffee with me?” he said. Evie was again surprised, this time at the straightforward request.<br /><br />“Coffee?” was all she managed to say, but damn if she wasn’t grinning from ear to ear.<br /><br />“Was that too direct? I'm sorry…” Adam said over phone, sounding disappointed. Evie was quiet for a moment. Then she laughed into the handset.<br /><br />“It was! But it’s okay… Ehehe. Shouldn’t you be hitting on your waitresses or something instead of a customer?”<br /><br />“I can’t. You see, I draw a line between professional and personal relationships”<br /><br />“Right. So is there a familiar line between customer and patron then?”<br /><br />“Maybe. But we’re not talking about booking a table for two or catering a function here right?”<br /><br />Evie had to smile. She could even imagine Adam smiling at the end of the line. It was a conversation of hidden smiles. Adam sounded hopeful. Evie gave in. She had nothing to lose.<br /><br />“Actually I'm free right now. Where’s your favorite coffee shop?” she said.<br /><br />“It’s the one right below your office building” Adam said and hung up. Evie’s jaw went slack for a moment, not believing the guy. But sure enough, when she went down from her office to the coffee shop on the ground floor, there he was, with two coffees in hand. He was wearing a light blue polo shirt with jeans, and he had Adidas sneakers on.<br /><br />“You look like a latte girl, so that’s what I got you. You look great, by the way”, Adam said as he handed Evie the polystyrene cup. He grinned, clearly happy with himself for this trick. She was dressed in a black blazer over a white blouse, with black trousers. Evie felt happy despite her self, and welcomed the coffee. They took a seat, with Adam sitting opposite her. For a few minutes they just sat there, staring at each other over the rims of their coffee cups. Evie felt awkward and nervous but excited at the same time.<br /><br />When was the last time she felt excited about things likr this? Guys tried to pick her up all the time. What makes Adam any different?<span style="font-style: italic;"> Because,</span> she told herself, <span style="font-style: italic;">he did not come up with some crazy pick up line</span>; because he had simply called her up and asked her for coffee, with no pretense; because he had this aura of confidence in him, that she found herself admiring.<br /><br />They sat there staring at each other, and then both of them started to speak at the same time. They laughed, and gradually they began to talk. He told her about life as a chef, and how at times, it was nowhere near as glamourous as people like Gordon Ramsay or Tony Bourdain seem to suggest. He spoke clearly and smoothly, attaching amusing and funny tags to his words. Evie, too, spoke about her career, telling an interested (she did not know if he was genuinely interested or just pretending to be, but she did not care; she was feeling butterflies in her stomach as Adam looked at her while she spoke. She noticed his eyes. Dark, and deep, belying an intelligence he did not really advertise, pun intended) Adam the knitty gritty of the advertising business. They talked for well over two hours when she finally noticed the sun had set and her coffee was unfinished. Suddenly both of them fell quiet.<br /><br />“So”, Adam said finally. “I guess I better make a move then. Can I drive you home? Where do you live?”<br /><br />“Oh, it’s alright, I stay at Sri Kenanga, near Jalan Ampang. But I'm driving myself”, Evie said whilst holding up the keys to her Vee-Dubya.<br /><br />“Oh okay”, Adam said. Evie detected a small hint of disappointment, but for now she let it be. She had had fun talking to him. They both stood up.<br /><br />“I'm headed that way”, Evie said, motioning to the elevators that would take her to the basement parking lot. Adam nodded, his lips clenched.<br /><br />“I'm parked outside. Hopefully they didn’t clamp my wheels” he joked. “Hey… don’t suppose I could have your number can I? You know, just in case…”<br /><br />Evie crossed her arms in front of her and raised one eyebrow. “In case of what’”<br /><br />Adam shrugged. “You’d like to go for another coffee, maybe?”<br /><br />Evie eyed the good-looking man in front of her. He’s earned it, she thought. “It’s zero one two, two six four, seven triple six”.<br /><br />Adam fumbled with his handset and repeated after her as he keyed in the digits on his phone. Satisfied, he winked at Evie and said “I’ll see you then, Evie”<br /><br />“Most people don’t do that anymore”, Evie said.<br /><br />“Do what?”<br /><br />“Wink”<br /><br />“Well I'm not most people”, he said. He raised a hand and waved goodbye, and whistled as he walked out of the building. When he reached the exit he turned back, looked at Evie and winked again. Evie had to put a hand to her mouth, covering the wide grin she wore. She went home that night feeling very cheerful, just like on the day she had first met him. After a couple of hours upon her reaching home, as she was about to settle in front of the TV to maybe watch a movie or maybe play The Sims, her mobile phone buzzed, and unsurprisingly it was Adam. She ended up talking with him on the phone for more than two hours, and she felt like schoolgirl afterwards.<br /><br />She agreed to a proper date when Adam asked her (“Evie… would you like to go to dinner with me? Maybe this weekend? It won’t be at my restaurant, I promise”), and their conversation that night ranged from the silly (“Do you think cows would keel over if they were asked to solve a math problem?”) to the mundane (“I think oil prices are gonna go up again soon”) to the downright sweet (“You have the prettiest smile, seriously…”).<br /><br />For the first time since a while, Evie slept that night with a smile on her face.<br /><br />And that was a few weeks ago. They had gone on that date, and yes, Adam kept his promise of not bringing her to his own restaurant. Instead they had gone to a noisy char kuey teow stall in Shah Alam, which Evie had absolutely enjoyed. After that date he had called her that night and again they had talked on the phone for hours. It was silly to think of, but that was what happened. And more often lately they both would text each other just to say hi and to chat. They saw each other almost everyday then, even if for just a few hours. Adam wasn’t like the other guys who had hit on her or took her on (thankfully) short lived dates. He wasn’t interested in trying to score with her; he seemed genuinely interested in getting to know her. And Evie loved the fact he took her to a char kuey teow place instead of a cheesy candlelit dinner in a fancy restaurant. She was a romantic, certainly, but she was thrilled by the spontaneity of that date.<br /><br />This feels different, she had told herself earlier as she was preparing for tonight. And it was; for one, she was interested to see where this was going. She liked Adam. She liked him a lot. He was funny, goofy at times, charming and spontaneous. He was unlike quiet and brooding and sarcastic Rafar, and that was a thought she immediately pushed away. Adam was… different.<br /><br />Tonight’s date was set because, in his words, “Hey I miss seeing you. Wanna go for dinner?”. They had dinner at Piccolo Mondo Pizza, and the conversation was lighter than usual. It was not that they had run out of things to talk about; rather, they both felt that tonight was night more suited to a quiet time together, as unlikely as that may sound in Bukit Bintang. When he had come to pick her up earlier he had given her a bouquet of flowers. They were beautiful. It was the first romantic gesture he had made, and Evie knew then their relationship was slowly changing direction. Even more tellingly, tonight he was quieter than usual, like he was trying to say something that was more sincere but did not know how. <span style="font-style: italic;">It’s only been about five weeks,</span> Evie told herself. <span style="font-style: italic;">Let’s not rush this</span>.<br /><br />As she thought that she looked at Adam walking beside her, both of them bathed in the neon glow of the streetlights of Jalan Bukit Bintang. Adam looked back, and they smiled at each other (they always smiled at each other, it was like their smiles were saying words unspoken). They had not said a word for sometime now. Evie was just letting herself soak in the atmosphere, and beside Adam, she felt comfortable and safe. She felt warm, a feeling that she thought was long lost from her heart. Of course, it was way too early to tell anything. But all the same, she welcomed that feeling.<br /><br />This is different, she says to her own heart. That would suffice for now. She was content to be walking side by side with Adam. His quiet gave Evie a chance to study him more closely. She liked what she saw. Unconsciously she began fingering the ring on her left hand. The ring she always wore. She did not know if Adam had noticed the ring, but he’s a smart guy. He knew that she wasn’t married or anything anyway. But often Evie worried if the ring was too symbolic of something. Maybe it was time she took it off. It’s been six years anyway.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Maybe I will then</span>, she said to herself, <span style="font-style: italic;">because this is different.</span><br /><br />--------<br /><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7420985887871930530.post-3031439968540045592009-01-20T06:00:00.000-08:002009-01-22T17:32:28.617-08:00Muhammad Rafar<div style="text-align: center;">--<span style="text-decoration: underline;"></span>--<br /><span style="text-decoration: underline;"></span></div><span style="text-decoration: underline;"><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk7zIzb0OyLtnzKM5yzgYCoM7bHviLznmr0LY3rJKcGC8lRw69-snEtds6oUYwSwT2NoczsAqnGX3QYOix2wsB4_r1lNDm47htHivj_vCX3N3TEOexKUSxM27XCw3-DyMKYn9mkNrCtvM/s1600-h/DSC00029.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk7zIzb0OyLtnzKM5yzgYCoM7bHviLznmr0LY3rJKcGC8lRw69-snEtds6oUYwSwT2NoczsAqnGX3QYOix2wsB4_r1lNDm47htHivj_vCX3N3TEOexKUSxM27XCw3-DyMKYn9mkNrCtvM/s400/DSC00029.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293168951831414466" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">At half past seven in the morning Muhammad Rafar reached home, his body slick with sweat from his daily morning jog, his t-shirt sticking to his skin. He ran up the stairs to his fourth floor apartment, and before going inside he took some time to do cooling down exercises. After a few deep breaths he went inside. He wiped off some of the sweat and made his breakfast: toast with scrambled eggs, an apple and black coffee. He ate the breakfast whilst reading The Star he had picked up en route home.<br /><br />When he finished he switched on the television but almost immediately turned it off; sometimes he wonders why he bought a TV when he watches so little of it. Rafar peeled of his exercise clothes and went for a shower.<br /><br />He jogged an hour everyday. He liked the quiet hours he spent to himself in the mornings. Jogging sort of gave him time to think. The running had begun when he divorced Evie Nadia the same four years ago. Subconsciously he thought the running was more than just exercise: it was a way of leaving everything behind. Now he stood beneath the cool spray of his shower, his eyes closed, and he let the water wash himself clean. He also felt that showers were symbolic, just as much as he probably thought that running was a way of getting away from the past. Every time he emerged from those morning showers, it was as if he was reborn, ready to set foot in the world again.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Foolish thoughts from a foolish man</span>, he thought as he killed the stream of water. He dried his body and checked out his reflection in the bathroom mirror: no need for a shave yet. He washed his face all the same, and brushed his teeth thrice. It was a peculiar habit of his, almost bordering on the obsessive compulsive. Evie used to say that one day his gums will cease to exist.<br /><br />He dried himself completely, and put on a fresh t-shirt and his favorite shorts. He was a handsome man, but not in the classical sense. His face was slightly rounded, but his chin was squared. His eyes were black, and his nose straight to the tip. His lips are thin. He sported a clean-shaven look now because his girlfriend likes it that way, and he recently started wearing glasses, and though he tells people that it’s merely for aesthetics, the truth was that his eyesight had deteriorated a bit, maybe due to the amount of time he spent in front of a computer monitor. He did not have a ripped body, or a chiseled face. Rafar was tall and slender. He had lost some weight due to the jogging, and sometimes, in certain articles of clothing, he looked gaunt, like he had more bones than muscle. He always has a bed-head, his hair messy and un-kept, but by no means did he look like a vagrant. His looks simply reflected, and hid, his personality: he looked casual, carefree and relaxed.<br /><br />Despite it being a weekday, he did not have to go anywhere yet. Technically he worked for a studio, of course, but nowadays he did more freelance work. This morning he intended to stay in front of his iMac and work on the hundreds of photos that he was paid to work on. Before that he made himself another coffee, no sugar, bitter than a blackboard (not that he had tasted a blackboard, of course, but he always imagined if he were to do so, it’d taste bitter).<br /><br />He started working on this morning’s batch of images. He supposed the general public would have no idea that professional digital photography involved just as much post-processing as film. Rafar knew this of course; back in his college days he had taken a full year long course in Japan to learn it. It was a trip he never regretted going on. His skills had then developed until he was able to make a living doing his hobby. He had it good. How many people can say that, anyway? Armed with a camera and tripod and lenses and light-guns and a keen eye, his hobby had helped him pay for the apartment he lived in and the car he drove.<br /><br />This morning the pictures were of the family of a prominent local politician as part of a feature in a woman’s magazine. He had taken perhaps 200-plus photos, but after carefully selecting and deleting the ones he thought were no good, he suddenly felt bored. He saved the good pictures and closed the application. It could wait anyway. He checked his mobile phone that was on the desk and saw one text message. It was from Farihin, his girlfriend. The message asked him to meet her up for lunch later in the afternoon. He replied a quick ‘OK’ and put the phone back down.<br /><br />He had met Farihin a year ago at during KL Fashion Week him. The pretty lady in ‘grunge’ attire had caught his eye immediately. At first he thought she was an event manager or something, seeing that she was energetic and seemed constantly busy… but then he saw the camera and camera bag slung across her shoulders. After that day’s shooting, he actually went looking for her. Rafar found her sitting on the floor, leaning on a pillar. He had said hi and sat down beside her, much to Farihin’s amusement. They talked, exchanging views and having a look at each other’s pictures and equipment (he was using Canon, she was using Sony). Rafar had then asked for her number, which, to his surprise, she gave without hesitation.<br /><br />Rafar had been charmed. Farihin certainly was very pretty. She had skin the color of honey and her lips were shaped like a cupid’s bow, sensuous and curvy. She was talkative and funny. He supposed it was safe to say he had instantly liked her. The fact that she too took pictures was a bonus for him. It was, after all, the fact that had led him to her. He had spend the days after last year’s KL Fashion Week texting and talking to Farihin, and found himself slowly but surely falling in love with the girl. As luck would have it, Farihin had developed feelings for him too. After more or less two months of talking and texting and exchanging subtle hints of attraction, Rafar asked her to be his girlfriend, and she had said yes. It was pretty straight forward.<br /><br />At first it was strange for him because Farihin is the first girl he’s ever loved since he divorced Evie Nadia. And that is not to say he did not love his ex-wife; in fact, they had spent some wonderful times together. Beautiful, compassionate and understanding Evie Nadia. In the days since the divorce, he had only ever seen her twice: <a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2008/10/selamat-hari-raya-maaf-zahir-batin.html">once three years ago just after Eid</a>, and of course, at Juliza’s wedding. In truth he had not expected to see her at the wedding. Stupid, he knew, but he somehow had had a hunch that Evie would not come. When he was proven wrong, he had taken a few moments to think about how he would react. In the end he decided to just go along and talk. He had avoided talking to her initially. But when he had seen Evie walk out the hall and stand by the windows, he just thought it would be nice to say hello again. After all, there was nothing that said they could not be friends. So he had gone up to her and tried to strike a conversation, which, he thought, had gone on fine. Evie had even agreed to go for a drink with him.<br /><br />He actually had a selfish reason as to why he had asked Evie to go out with him for coffee. He wanted to know everything about her. He wanted to know what she has been doing, what’s new in her life. He knew that she was working at a renowned advertising firm. He had, in fact, done a job for the very same firm she works at, doing product shots. Secretly he also wanted to know if she had anyone in her life. And now in retrospect he felt ashamed to himself to admit that he was actually glad that Evie had not remarried or even dated. Then he had slipped his tongue and had let that feeling known, even if he had said it out loud as a ‘joke’. Evie had rightfully gotten angry and stormed off. That was five weeks ago. He did not even get to ask for her number. Not that she would have given it, perhaps.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">That was dumb</span>, he thought, sipping his coffee. He remembered five weeks ago at how stunned he was to see Evie again after four years. She had changed a lot. She looked healthier, <span style="font-style: italic;">glowing,</span> her complexion full of vitality. And dear God, she was <span style="font-weight: bold;">gorgeous</span>. She looked thirty, but a stunningly beautiful thirty. The last time he had seen her prior to that she was still wearing glasses, and was still skinny. But in four years… wow, Rafar thought. He was sure that if he told some of his friends about this, they’d roast him, telling him how stupid he was to have let her go. And he knew they would be right. But that was the past, and it was his decision. Things are different now. He thought that maybe Evie hated him for what he did. He never really gave her a real reason. He knew that had hurt her a lot more than if he had said he was cheating.<br /><br />Rafar’s memories now floated to four years ago, on the day they officially split at the Syariah Court. He remembered how stoic and emotionless he had been, as if he was just waiting in line at a post office. Evie had been silent during that event. But one particular memory that had never been erased from his mind of that day was when he saw Evie sitting on a bench inside the building; he was already on his way out. He saw Evie sitting alone, a scarf loosely wrapped around her hair. She had her face in her hands and by the hitching movements of her shoulders he knew she was crying, sobbing. He could hear her, in fact. Then he saw her parent’s arrive and he remembered that Evie had thrown herself into her mother’s arms. He remembered he had glimpsed his ex-wife’s beautiful face twisted in sadness, her eyes red and watery. There was no such indication of the cheerful, spunky and pretty girl he had dated and married. It was if he that person had died within Evie. At that moment, he knew how terribly he had hurt the woman he had once promised to love endlessly.<br /><br />Rafar wiped his eyes. He had not realized he was crying at the thought. He had never taken the time to say hi, or to apologize to Evie Nadia. In that four years he did not even make an effort to be friends. He had simply assumed that time will heal her wounds or make her forget. He had moved out of their apartment as quickly and as silently as he could, taking his stuff bit by bit, always coming during Evie’s office hours so he would not have to see her. One day, just like that, he was gone from her life. Rafar immediately focused on his career, almost demonically even. Still, the persistent questions remained. What was it that he wanted? What was it that he deemed missing in his life, so much so he divorced his wife? He always thought that he could justify the split by saying that it would be unfair for Evie if he cannot make her happy. But now that excuse seems just that: an excuse. He had never given her a real concrete reason.<br /><br />But his life had gone on. After the official split he just looked forward and rarely looked back. He built his career with a solid foundation and had found success. Then he realized he had everything he had ever wanted but someone to share it with. When Farihin came into his view, he had been instantly attracted. <span style="font-style: italic;">She is a great girl</span>, he told himself. And she is: smart, funny. He did not have to describe it in more detail, he just knew. Farihin made him happy, and is that not what life is about? Being happy and content?<br /><br />Sitting alone now at his work-desk, Rafar leaned back in his chair and nodded. Yes, he was happy. Maybe he had been cruel and selfish in the past, but he also knows that maybe his life would have turned out differently if he had stayed with Evie. Maybe he would not be happy, and would have felt incomplete. Yes, he told himself, things do happen for a reason after all. He knows that he can build an entire life with Farihin. They were young and good looking and successful. Just because he divorced his first wife does not mean he can’t have another life, right? Besides, Evie looks like she has things going good for her anyway. She did say it after all, that she healed and was doing fine until he showed up again.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">So maybe</span>, he thought, <span style="font-style: italic;">I don’t need to bother Evie. Maybe we’re destined to be apart now. She seemed certain I would screw up her life if I entered it again. So yeah, maybe what was done is done, and there’s nothing we can do to turn back the clock or rebuild the bridges that were burned.</span><br /><br />Rafar leaned further back on his chair, stretching his arms and legs, cracking his knuckles. He sighed, blowing air out of his lungs. He wondered why Evie had implied that he would screw up her life if he came back into the picture. But was it not obvious? She still, in a way no matter how small, loved him. But does he still love her? He thought of Farihin, his current girlfriend. He loved Farihin very much, and that was true, not some bullshit his own feelings generated to comfort himself. He loved Farihin because, as he mentioned to Evie the other day, and as he constantly reminds himself, Farihin is smart, and funny, and energetic, and spunky. In fact, he loved Farihin because… why, because Farihin is almost exactly like Evie Nadia was years ago, of course, who was he kidding?<br /><br />Life, it seems, is full of irony.<br /><br />-------<br /><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7420985887871930530.post-73943794308099773732009-01-17T07:49:00.000-08:002009-01-17T15:57:10.716-08:00Evie Nadia<div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: center;">----<br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUQpVJ9Cl-pMktrWQ8LjrOdL32ZgTTalmGpgJpGQxSEQlDGjIewesoV-hOL1SscXzRJ5N5HWDLVGL1ZIl83wjRlvd9h-chNRjHrGMZHsS4pzQFM7y_RGG8UpM8pBUwGJLZfO_Jsn3OmSk/s1600-h/Picture+1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 297px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUQpVJ9Cl-pMktrWQ8LjrOdL32ZgTTalmGpgJpGQxSEQlDGjIewesoV-hOL1SscXzRJ5N5HWDLVGL1ZIl83wjRlvd9h-chNRjHrGMZHsS4pzQFM7y_RGG8UpM8pBUwGJLZfO_Jsn3OmSk/s320/Picture+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292334351528805682" border="0" /></a><br />Evie Nadia stood in front of her mirror, clad in a loosely wrapped towel, fresh from her hot shower. The perfume of shampoo and conditioner, along with a seemingly endless array of skincare and beauty products clung to her body. In any other circumstances, it might have been choking. But if there were anybody else in the room with her, they would probably say she smelled lovely.<br /><br />She put her hands on her hips, and lifted one shoulder in a provocative, catwalk model pose. She pouted her lips, and then simply broke out into a small laugh, which inadvertently caused the towel to drop; even though she was alone, she instantly grabbed it, and a faint blush tinged her cheeks. She shook her head at her own blonde moment, feeling silly and childish.<br /><br />Looking into the mirror was, she supposed, one of her vices. She was the kind of person who would check if she looked okay every time she passed by a window and a large sheet of glass; in fact, any reflective surface would do.<br /><br />She took a deep breath; and this time, she let the towel drop. For a moment she just stared at the body God had given her. It was in these private moments she asserted her gratitude for the gift of beauty that had been bestowed upon her. Of course she still had her insecurities: for instance, she thinks her ears are too big and stick out too much, and that her collarbones are too prominent which makes her upper chest and neck look bony, and that her eyebrows have too much of 'kink' in them. But she knew enough to take care of what she has, and to an outside observer, what she has is<span style="font-style: italic;"> beautiful.</span><br /><br />Her face was almost arrow shaped; severe to some, delicate to others. The browns of her eyes were a rich caramel, and contrasted greatly with her naturally pink lips. The bridge of her nose was straight, but the tip was slight upturned. Jodie Foster's nose, Juliza, her best friend, had said once. She even had that 'v' on the tip of the nose.<br /><br />She had always been slim, almost waif-like; but recently she had put on some weight and her figure looked fuller than before, healthier. Her small round breasts perched nicely on her chest, firm and taut, and her hips were broad but not prominently so, the buttocks in almost perfect proportion to her chest. Her belly<span style="font-style: italic;"> (not as flat as before, but still flat enough) </span>was a smooth surface, the skin pale yet flawless. She had a birthmark on her right hip, just above the bone. Her limbs were long and tapered, coltish and athletic.<br /><br />Evie glanced at herself; she was thankful. A few years back she was skinnier, and looked somewhat undernourished. Ironic then, how life changes you physically, she thought. After a few minutes she felt satisfied with her own image and self-confidence. She picked up the towel, wrapped it around herself and sat down in front of her dressing table. Her make up set was arranged neatly; lipstick, foundation, eyeliner, mascara and the lot. Evie looked at her bedside clock: 1705. She had plenty of time.<br /><br />For tonight she had a date. It has been 5 weeks since she met Rafar again; <span style="font-style: italic;">t</span><span style="font-style: italic;">hat had ended well</span>, she thought as she began applying her make up. She had left that day feeling angry with herself for agreeing to go for a drink. She had been angry with herself for even talking to Rafar. What was she expecting anyway? She did not know, and at this point, no longer cared.<br /><br />Tonight however, was different. Tonight was a night she had been looking forward to. She wanted to see the guy again, which, for her, was unusual. She rarely went on second dates with the people she meets, because usually they turn out to be jerks, but mostly because she would find herself losing interest halfway through a date. But tonight... and for that matter the past few weeks or so, she felt different. For the first time since Ezra The TUDM pilot, probably, she was excited at the prospect of a date.<br /><br />After her divorce with Rafar and the subsequent rebuilding of her life, her mother had encouraged her to go on dates, mostly because she (her mother) wanted her to be happy and socialize, and, who knew, maybe even find a replacement for Rafar. So yes, Evie had gone on dates, but never seriously. Sometimes she wondered if it was herself, in fact, that was apprehensive to the idea of dating after her relationship with Rafar ended so bitterly. Maybe she did not want anyone else to taint the good memories. But within time that feeling had slowly faded, and she realized she needed to move on.<br /><br />Dating again was a logical step forward.<br /><br />Tonight's date felt different, somehow. She thought it was because of the incident with Rafar the other day. Thinking positively, she felt that the afternoon spent with Rafar having coffee was somewhat a catalyst for her; a sign that yes, she was ready to move on completely. If all goes well, she thought as she applied a subtle shade of mascara to her long eyelashes, I might even learn to love this guy. She knew for sure she liked him. She liked him a lot. They met at a nice restaurant a few weeks back when she had lunch with a client. But that was a story she would tell another day.<br /><br />Evie finished applying make up and walked gingerly to her wardrobe. She put on her bra and panties whilst making a decision on what to wear. She had laid out some clothes on the bed. Should she go casual and pick the soft pink cardigan she could wear over a white tube and combine it with her favorite faded Levi's? Or maybe the baby blue button-down shirt to go with a long, flowing white skirt? Perhaps the lavender dress would do, though admittedly that would show too much leg. Evie loved soft colors. It belied her cheerful and sometimes electric personality, though even that had softened over the years. She remembered her college days, and the early times during her marriage. Was that not what Rafar liked about her? That outwardly she looked carefree and ditzy but she was - no, still is, - smart, intelligent and witty?<br /><br />Eventually she settled for a compromise; she chose to wear the pink cardigan and tube, but with the long flowing skirt. She put that on, and went back to her dressing table to do her hair. She thought of letting it hang free, but then decided against it as her hair might get in her face; so she tied her hair into a ponytail using a ribbon. She had not put on too much make-up; she always liked to look natural rather than tart-ed up. Evie stood up again, adjusting her clothes and her hair. She smiled. She thought she looked a bit younger than her thirty years, but that was all right. As a final touch, she dabbed some perfume on herself.<br /><br />Her bedside clock showed 1740. Another twenty minutes before he calls, she thought. I could have a drink. So she made herself a mug of tea with honey, and sat in the living room of her apartment. She sipped her drink, but her eyes wandered all over her home. She was proud. Since Rafar's departure, she had slowly turned the apartment into her own image. It was a three bedroom suite, just off Jalan Ampang. She had decorated it herself, to her exact tastes. It wasn't a big house, but she lived alone after all. She chose to live alone.<br /><br />The apartment was clean, cozy and welcoming. On the walls were pictures of flowers she had drawn herself, and of her family and closest friends. She had a nice widescreen television, with ASTRO connected to it and even a Playstation Two as she loved playing games <span style="font-style: italic;">(Harvest Moon and The Sims!)</span> in her free time. Beside the TV was a stereo system, and more pictures, even of her with her car,which was easily one of her biggest pride and joys: a white Volkswagen Golf she bought brand new last year when she realized she could afford it. She was making good money. A BMW was not out of the question but she just felt it was too excessive. Evie Nadia Hakimi, Advertising Exec; young, beautiful, successful. She was comfortable, and content. Maybe she could go on like this forever... but where's the fun in that, right?<br /><br />At almost precisely 1800, her cell phone rang. The ringing tone was the intro riff from Switchfoot's 'We Are One Tonight', her favorite song. She looked at the Called ID and could not help but feel happy; she even blushed. Yay, she thought, and felt even more embarrassed. In truth it has been a long time since she felt this excited about something. So maybe she could allow herself this teenaged moment. She pressed the green button.<br /><br />"Hi you", she said.<br /><br />"Hi you", the voice at the other end said. "I've just arrived, waiting downstairs. Are you ready?"<br /><br />"Yes, I'll see you in three minutes"<br /><br />"Can't wait", the voice said.<br /><br />Evie put her drink on the coffee table and went to her mirror for a last minute check; she looked fine. She grabbed her handbag, keys and phone and went out. Just before she locked her door, she took one glance at her apartment. It's my home, she thought. She smiled, again. The coffee 'date' with Rafar five weeks ago was now a faded memory, like an old stain the bleach couldn't quite get out. It just did not matter anymore. Today, she felt happy. She felt happier today than she's ever been for four years.<br /><br />Evie locked her door and took the elevator down. She walked the 60 meters or so towards a sleek black Honda, where a gentleman in a button down white shirt and faded blue jeans was waiting by the passenger-side door. He held a bouquet of roses and carnations in one hand, and he smiled when he saw Evie coming towards him. Evie could have sworn her face had gone red when she saw the flowers.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I wonder what those are for</span>? she asked herself. <span style="font-style: italic;">Never mind, they look lovely</span>. Tonight, all she wanted to do was have a nice time, and to come back home happy.<br /><br />Life, indeed, is full of surprises.<br /><br />--------<br /><br /><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7420985887871930530.post-21621887008839089842009-01-12T16:26:00.000-08:002009-02-02T05:29:12.427-08:00Afterwards We Went For Coffee<div style="text-align: center;">-------<span style="text-decoration: underline;"></span><br /><span style="text-decoration: underline;"></span></div><span style="text-decoration: underline;"><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5rOzXCT2QMAvLtI2Roz2Dd_gILEp_KWQTYkHd-b_Sd1gl8zbKmPTsSaGldXvGKka_9SpXIE48F1ovZYG66NRuUa3g9FhqrrVWNaJf-F98W3gQs1ES6wFJPvkkVsq3vQyhMz1zXr5txSg/s1600-h/40001562_26524325bb_o.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 292px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5rOzXCT2QMAvLtI2Roz2Dd_gILEp_KWQTYkHd-b_Sd1gl8zbKmPTsSaGldXvGKka_9SpXIE48F1ovZYG66NRuUa3g9FhqrrVWNaJf-F98W3gQs1ES6wFJPvkkVsq3vQyhMz1zXr5txSg/s400/40001562_26524325bb_o.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290591814555261218" border="0" /></a><br />They were at a Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf outlet.<br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />Evie sunk herself in the comfy chair, gently stirring a mug of coffee. She had managed to change into a pair of Levi's but kept her kebaya top on; she thought it looked nice, a fusion of East and West. She knew for certain that the guy manning the counter had given her more than a second glance when she and Rafar had walked in; in fact she could tell the guy was still checking her out.<br /><br />She let it be. Rafar sat in front of her, currently on the phone ("Sorry, excuse me, I gotta take this"), his one free hand fiddling with a packet of sugar. Evie took this moment to look at him, while he was distracted.<br /><br />Evie didn't know if she was feeling upset or just surprised at the revelation that Rafar was seeing another person. Part of her felt a twinge of jealousy; he was, after all, her <span style="font-style: italic;">ex-husband.</span> He was someone she had lived with, had made love with, had shared her most intimate secrets with and likewise. She supposed it was only human to feel a tiny bit of envy.<br /><br />At the same time she reminded herself constantly that she should not have been surprised at all. Rafar was young, and good looking and successful. Plus, he had that appeal of working in a glamorous job, often rubbing shoulders with celebrities and the like. In fact, she should have expected him to be dating someone. Maybe it was just her feelings that decided to rewind 4 years back.<br /><br />It did not matter anyway.<br /><br />Rafar finished his brief phone call and put his cell phone on the table. "Work. Follows me around"<br /><br />Evie said nothing, taking a sip of her drink instead, her eyes peering over the rim of the mug. Rafar leaned back and stretched his legs; he cracked his knuckles and took a swig from his mug of coffee as well.<br /><br />"Still taking it bitter?” Evie said. Rafar nodded.<br /><br />"Bitter as ever. How about yours? Or do you just want me to cut off your leg now?"<br /><br />They laughed. For a moment Evie felt, and she was sure Rafar did too, awkward. They were like long lost friends - no, lovers -, forced into a situation they did not expect. She thought about the things she could talk about. After all, was that not the reason both of them were here? To talk? But nobody said it was going to be easy. In the end Evie started by asking him an obvious question.<br /><br />"So tell me about Farihin"<br /><br />"Farihin?"<br /><br />Evie rolled her eyes. "Farihin, your current squeeeeeezee”<br /><br />"Well", Rafar cleared his throat, as if the bitter coffee he was having suddenly stung. "For starters, she's younger than we are; 25 this year. I met her about a year ago during KL Fashion Week; she's another photographer. Young, perky; she was like a pack of Smarties: colorful and sweet"<br /><br />Evie nodded, smiling her approval. "What does she look like? Any pictures?"<br /><br />Rafar handed her his cell phone; the screensaver was a picture of him and Farihin. Evie studied the girl; she had short brown hair, skin the color of light honey, and wore glasses. Her smile was shaped like a cupid's bow: curvy, almost sensuous.<br /><br />"She's gorgeous", Evie said, handing Rafar back the phone. He took it back and stuck it in his pocket.<br /><br />"Thanks... she is.” he said, and sort of trailed off. He seemed to stare off into blank space, which Evie found amusing.<br /><br />"And.?” Evie said, grinning, coaxing him. Rafar snapped out of his momentary trance, and blushed just the tiniest bit. He shook his head, smiling in spite of himself.<br /><br />"And I guess she's amazing, you could say. We’ve had great times thus far"<br /><br />Evie began asking Rafar more questions about his new love, and Rafar obliged. As he told them about himself and Farihin, Evie felt the rift that had come between them grow further and further apart. She supposed she was happy for him. She wanted to be. But she also realized she was asking<span style="font-style: italic;"> herself</span> if she was really happy. <span style="font-style: italic;">Was she where she wanted to be?</span><br /><br />Their talk turned to their jobs, a welcome change of subject as Evie suddenly felt she had had enough of listening to Rafar talk about his new girlfriend, even if she was the one kept asking. Perhaps people passing by would think of them as friends, having a chat, without any idea of the history between them. That was okay, Evie thought. It seems much more appropriate that way.<br /><br />The chatter slowly winded down. They looked at each other, smiling, both of them feeling glad for this moment, and yet, though they did not know, both of them feeling a bit sad. Here was something they had lost years ago. Now it was very different indeed. Rafar sank back in his chair, his face thoughtful.<br /><br />"What about you?” Rafar asked.<br /><br />"I already told you about me" she replied.<br /><br />"You told me you were not seeing anybody"<br /><br />"Yes"<br /><br />"<span style="font-style: italic;">And?</span>"<br /><br />"And what? I'm not seeing anyone"<br /><br />"Why?"<br /><br />"Because...”<br /><br />Because of what? Evie suddenly realized she had no idea, no definitive reason as to why she was not seeing anyone. Yes, people have asked her out, and yes, she had gone out with those people on occasions.<br /><br />Half of the time, they turned out to be shallow pricks that could not take their eyes off her chest when they had dinner, or whose hands kept brushing the wrong way during a movie. The other half? Evie dismissed them as too old, too chauvinistic <span style="font-size:85%;">(one of them, an obviously rich and young Malay golfer named Sharif, had told Evie that <span style="font-style: italic;">"pretty ladies like you shouldn't bother with politics, that's a man's job" </span>when she talked about the current political climate; Evie was instantly appalled and angry at herself because he had seemed so nice and sweet before that she agreed to go out with him)</span>, or just plain horny.<br /><br />"I don't know" she finally said to Rafar. "I guess there was nobody I fancied"<br /><br />Rafar cocked an eyebrow at her. "Seriously?"<br /><br />"Well there was one, this guy, named Ezra; he was a TUDM Pilot. We kept in contact for a while, and saw each other often. He was sweet and handsome. But...”<br /><br />"But what?"<br /><br />Evie took another sip of coffee and shook her head. "I just wasn't ready"<br /><br />"Wow", Rafar leaned forward a bit in his seat and smiled. "I guess nobody came close to me huh? I have to admit it feels kinda <span style="font-style: italic;">great </span>to be the best you ever had..."<br /><br />Evie froze, her jaw slightly open; she couldn't believe he had said that, and she knew Rafar regretted it as soon as he said it. He rubbed his face with the palm of his hands and took a deep breath.<br /><br />"Look, I'm sorry, that was uncalled for” he said, but Evie was already getting up from the chair to leave. She felt a burning anger in her heart, a fire that was maybe ignited four years ago. She got up to leave.<br /><br />"Evie, stay”<br /><br />"And what?” she said. "Listen to you come up with another quip like that? You think you're such a <span style="font-style: italic;">wise guy</span>. Or are you so fulfilled and happy right now that you didn't give thought that it was <span style="font-style: italic;">you who left me four years ago?"</span><br /><br />Rafar sat quiet. Evie blew a strand of hair that had fallen on her nose.<br /><br />"You know what, I don't even know why I agreed to come for a drink with you. Maybe it was because I still cared for you, or maybe because I just wanted a <span style="font-style: italic;">goddamn</span> coffee with six sugars in it. Either way, I'm not like you, talking to me as if nothing happened"<br /><br />She held out her left hand in front of Rafar and showed him her ring finger. On it was a simple gold band with a sparkling white diamond on it: her wedding ring, which she had never taken off.<br /><br />"I still wear your ring,” she said. "When you left me I had to rebuild my life from scratch, and just when I thought I had finally got there, you come sauntering in with your <span style="font-style: italic;">oh so </span>casual good looks and your wise guy remarks. What do you want? Why did you ask me to come for a coffee with you?"<br /><br />Rafar just sat silent; he was clearly embarrassed. A few of the other patrons were staring at them, although Evie was not speaking loudly. In fact, she was speaking very calmly despite the cold anger in her eyes. It was a voice and tone Rafar knew all too well.<br /><br />"You know what? Forget it. I don't think we should see each other ever again. It's just...”, Evie said, looking for a perfect word. "It's just too much for me. I'm glad you're happy now. <span style="font-style: italic;">I really am.</span> Farihin looks like a great girl. So go on, I'm past all this. Four years ago we went separate ways. Maybe it's better to keep it that way"<br /><br />Evie walked towards the exit and stomped<span style="font-size:85%;"> (not literally, of course)</span> her way back to her car. Outside it was a hot and sunny afternoon in Kuala Lumpur. She put on her sunglasses and searched her handbag for her car keys. A group of men who walked past her whistled their appreciation as she walked by.<br /><br />"Evie", she could hear Rafar call out from behind her. She kept on walking.<br /><br />"Evie, stop, please"<br /><br />Evie just walked, ignoring him.<br /><br />"Evie, please, stop”<br /><br />Evie paused in her steps. She took off her sunnies and turned around. She walked towards Rafar and stopped right in front of him. Evie stared into his eyes, the eyes of the man she had once loved, and probably will love in one way or the other until she dies. She sighed.<br /><br />"Rafar... when you left me four years ago I thought I could never have gone on with my life. Every bit of me felt that it was bound to you. And that when you left, a part of me was torn away, abruptly, from myself. But then I realized it wasn't you who tore me apart"<br /><br />It was I, me, myself. I realized then I was in charge of my own life, and I was not bound to you. When I realized that, I felt.. I felt free. I felt better. I began to heal. And that's the way it has been for four years. Then you show up, so nonchalantly, and ask me out for a drink, and think that we can joke about it now"<br /><br />Evie paused.<br /><br />"What do you want, Rafar?"<br /><br />Rafar just stood there, silent. Evie shook her head. She turned away.<br /><br />------<br /><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7420985887871930530.post-60442926100751152262009-01-07T10:24:00.000-08:002009-01-17T16:50:45.014-08:00We Talked By The Window<div style="text-align: center;">---<br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-OXmy3TV6IfkyknVjVcNAYcejH8R3YGY6d4lrF9bDY6yDur3M3NLbK1rt9qEbumEm5w8M7TFz5OStY8_LmH7WPqI1XZ9bsRTRQYS_t3Y6igNY93t8-US6YO17K8sufE-Rr4gd-sG4iNg/s1600-h/window.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-OXmy3TV6IfkyknVjVcNAYcejH8R3YGY6d4lrF9bDY6yDur3M3NLbK1rt9qEbumEm5w8M7TFz5OStY8_LmH7WPqI1XZ9bsRTRQYS_t3Y6igNY93t8-US6YO17K8sufE-Rr4gd-sG4iNg/s400/window.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288637928518471042" border="0" /></a><br />Evie stepped out of the wedding hall, which was situated on the twelfth floor of the building. The exterior of the hall was an open space, where some guests were lingering. It was surrounded by full-length glass windows, giving an airy, open feel to it.<br /><br />Evie glanced down at her kebaya, now a bit ruffled along the edges. Inside, Marina and the others had decided to mingle with the other wedding guests, along with the bride and groom. Rafar had left their table to take photos prior to that. Evie had tagged along, and then felt a little suffocated by the crowds. Hence, she made her way outside for a moment.<br /><br />She walked towards the windows, which offered a panoramic view of Kuala Lumpur. From twelve stories high, the people on the streets below looked like little ants marching towards whatever colony they belonged to. She glanced at her wristwatch, a Fossil with leather straps, and decided she would go inside for perhaps another thirty minutes and then head home.<br /><br />Rafar's appearance at the wedding should not have come as a surprise to her. He was Juliza's friend too, she reminded herself. And yet, when he showed up at their table, so casual, so relaxed, Evie could not help but feel a twinge of surprise. Had she really moved on so much, she thought, that she did not expect to see him at all? She pondered over the question.<br /><br />A small part of her also felt insulted, though she reminded herself that it was foolish to feel that way. But all the same she felt a bit annoyed because Rafar barely seemed to have acknowledged her at the table. Sure, he had thrown a look or two her way, and had smiled, but he did not even say hello, despite talking with the other guests at the table casually.<br /><br />Still, she was glad she did not suddenly have an emotional fit caused by his appearance. Evie sighed, suddenly wanting to be anywhere but here. She looked out the window with the palms of her hands on the glass, like a child.<br /><br />"You can't see Sri Kenanga from here, if that's what you're looking for"<br /><br />Evie turned her head around, her hands still on the glass. The moment she did, a camera flash burst. It was Rafar, who obviously had the camera ready, just waiting for her to turn her head back. He lowered the camera from his face, and grinned. Evie suddenly felt embarrassed, her cheeks flushed hot. Rafar checked out the LCD on his camera and raised his eyebrows.<br /><br />"You know Evie; you could have been a model. I mean, wow", he said. Evie turned to face him, brushing a few strands of hair that had fallen on her face. She did not know what to say.<br /><br />Rafar shouldered his camera and put his hands inside his pockets. Evie took a moment to study him. Same old same old Rafar.<br /><br />"When did you stop wearing glasses?” he asked her, stepping closer. Evie crossed her arms across her breasts and turned quickly away.<br /><br />"For a while", she answered curtly.<br /><br />"Contacts?"<br /><br />"No"<br /><br />"LASIK?"<br /><br />"Yes"<br /><br />"Oh"<br /><br />Rafar stood by her, joining her in looking out the window. Out of the corners of her eyes, she could see that Rafar was looking at her. She refused to look back.<br /><br />"You look great, anyway", Rafar said. "Lovely."<br /><br />Evie still stood silent. She wasn't being cold on purpose; it was just that she genuinely had no idea what to say, but she was trying to mask it by pretending to be uninterested. In truth, she desperately wanted to know what he had been up to.<br /><br />"So, I heard you got one hell of a raise at the ad firm", Rafar said again. This time he leaned his back on the window. He pushed his plastic rimmed glasses up his nose. "That's good. Means you must be sitting pretty comfortably in your nest"<br /><br />"What's that supposed to mean? You don't look all too shabby yourself", Evie said, a little harder than she wanted to.<br /><br />"I don't? That is the first time I've ever heard you say that I don't look messy or shabby for once. Thanks. I’m touched"<br /><br />Evie glanced at him briefly. "Haha very funny. You're such a wise guy"<br /><br />"Of course I am. Or was, anyway", he said, smiling. He came closer until their shoulders touched. At this distance, Evie could smell the hint of perfume he was wearing: cK Be, she thought. Still the same.<br /><br />Evie decided to soften her stance a little.<br /><br />"So how have you been? You're wearing glasses now. I told you all that time staring at a PC screen would ruin your eyes", she said.<br /><br />"Yeah. I'll tell you a secret though: they're not prescriptions. I just wear them to look cool", he said, and that made her smile.<br /><br />"But anyway, I've been taking pictures, what else. I also lecture part time at UiTM, a visiting speaker thingy for photography they invited me to do", he said. Evie smiled. She knew he was a well-known name in the local photography circuits. Just last month he did a high profile magazine photo shoot involving the Perak Royal Family. She felt that he was doing what he had always wanted to do. She was happy for him.<br /><br />There was suddenly an awkward silence between them. Evie felt uncomfortable.<br /><br />"So...” she said, trying to break the silence.<br /><br />"So...” Rafar said. He was still standing very close to her. "How have you been Evie?"<br /><br />Evie turned to look at him; their faces close enough that if she were to move her lips 6 inches forward, they would kiss. She remembered the feel of his lips on her. She remembered the taste. At these thoughts she quickly snapped her head away.<br /><br />"I've been alright,” she said.<br /><br />"How's work?"<br /><br />"Plenty"<br /><br />Rafar stifled a laugh. "How are your mom and dad?"<br /><br />"Healthy"<br /><br />"Have you been anywhere lately?"<br /><br />"No"<br /><br />"How's the apartment"<br /><br />"Okay"<br /><br />"..... Can you only say one word at a time now?"<br /><br />"Yes"<br /><br />Rafar nodded. They were both silent again for a moment.<br /><br />"Are you seeing anyone at the moment..?” he asked. Evie turned to look at him again. Perhaps she was over-analyzing the question. But she turned to look at Rafar to see if she could read what answer he was expecting. Yes? No? Would it matter? Then thinking she had taken too long, she just answered as curtly as she can.<br /><br />"No", she said.<br /><br />"No?” he asked.<br /><br />"No"<br /><br />"Well I'm surprised. I would have thought someone as beautiful as you would have tons of men groveling at your feet. Are you sure you're not seeing anyone?"<br /><br />Evie raised an eyebrow. "Yes I'm sure. I've dated. Just not seriously. But don't think I'm a career driven bitch who scares men away "<br /><br />Rafar laughed, rubbing the side of his neck. "I did not say nor did I imply that"<br /><br />"But people would tend to think that; me, 30, single, working". Evie suddenly felt odd to be telling this to him.<br /><br />"But I'm not most people. And I know you...", Rafar said, looking into her eyes. They became quiet again.<br /><br />"You want to start heading back inside?” Rafar said.<br /><br />"Give me a few more minutes. The crowds are making me dizzy. Whoosh!” Evie said, laughing weakly, and making a swoosh! motion over her head. Rafar nodded thoughtfully. He waited for her. Evie took a few deep breaths, and drank some water from the bottle she always carried around in her handbag.<br /><br />"Come, let's go back in", she said, stepping away from the windows.<br /><br />"Hey Evie...” Rafar said. Evie stopped. She waited.<br /><br />"What are you doing after this?” he asked. Evie thought of an excuse, but could not come up with any. So she came clean.<br /><br />"Nothing... why?"<br /><br />"Would you like to go out for a drink..? With me? Just me?"<br /><br />Evie stared at her ex-husband. Was he asking her out? After all these years? She did not know what to say but--<br /><br />"Yeah... Yeah, sure, that seems nice", she said, and she cursed herself in her head for agreeing to the offer before she could think it through properly. But secretly she also felt a wee bit excited. Rafar's expression brightened. He ran a hand through his hair.<br /><br />"That's great. Come, let's go back in", he said, extending a hand in front of him. After you, he mouthed. Evie smiled and they both began walking back inside. They walked close together, his hand occasionally brushing hers. It felt like a wonderfully familiar sensation to her. She suddenly felt stupid. She felt nineteen again. A disappointed thought ran through her mind: maybe she had not really moved on at all. But she dismissed it, and she would allow this moment to transpire.<br /><br />"Hey Rafar", she said, suddenly feeling cheerful. "Are you seeing anybody?”<br /><br />"Yes I am", Rafar said casually, in a matter-of-fact tone. "Her name is Farihin; we worked together on several shoots, then I guess we kinda hit if off. She couldn't make it today though, or I would have brought her along"<br /><br />"Oh", Evie said.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Oh.</span><br /><br /><br />----<br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7420985887871930530.post-3964130685782411052008-12-28T14:08:00.000-08:002009-01-17T16:47:10.972-08:00At Juliza's Wedding<div style="text-align: justify;"><div style="text-align: center;">---<br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU6bvn_AhJE_PyJ8tvlt1Ubu49cqUJK4f-3vAeAL-H5SswTmVpGiMxR3HUwAJDxD11S8ueJCT3UadqWWbn80-pu8DB-uF7Az7EfjQuxwhLvBZaGSXGB8p-XNVBsPHNRlbvjz_8O6ojA9Y/s1600-h/meja+kenduri.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 249px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU6bvn_AhJE_PyJ8tvlt1Ubu49cqUJK4f-3vAeAL-H5SswTmVpGiMxR3HUwAJDxD11S8ueJCT3UadqWWbn80-pu8DB-uF7Az7EfjQuxwhLvBZaGSXGB8p-XNVBsPHNRlbvjz_8O6ojA9Y/s400/meja+kenduri.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284992120519206370" border="0" /></a><br />The hall was crowded with people; relatives greeting guests, guests talking to each other, tired parents chasing after their little children. The aroma of kenduri food wafted through the air: ayam masak merah, gulai daging, acar rampai, nasi minyak, dalca sayur. Clichéd wedding music and love songs were barely audible through the loudspeakers that littered the hall.<br /><br />Evie Nadia sat at her table, finding the atmosphere festive but also slightly nauseating. She felt the beginnings of a headache pulse in her temples. But she was happy to be here.<br /><br />She had arrived a few moments too late, thus she missed the bride and groom's entrance and the merenjis ceremony. She felt bad about it, but could only blame herself for not taking into account Kuala Lumpur traffic. But she managed to wave her hand and wink to a clearly excited Juliza as the bride and groom made their way for the Makan Beradab session.<br /><br />Evie felt so happy for her friend; but a small part of her ached looking at Juliza walk down the aisle; I was there once, she thought. Then she pushed the thought away. She looked at the faces around her table.<br /><br />Marina, a.k.a Bubblegum, was the same as ever: cheerful, funny and bright, a persona that belied her reputation in the KL legal circles as a determined, fiercely intelligent and concise attorney. Marina had greeted her enthusiastically when they met, hugging her tightly. As it turned out, she and Harith, a.k.a Lucky (who was now an editor for a major broadsheet newspaper), had gotten married last year, an event Evie had missed.<br /><br />"We tried to get in touch with you so many times! But even Juliza did not have your number. We feel foolish to not have contacted your old family home!” Marina said.<br /><br />"It's alright", Evie replied, "I'm the one who should be sorry. I should have kept in touch"<br /><br />Marina smiled and made Evie sit beside her. Harith was still the same guy. Also at the table were old familiar faces; even an ex-boyfriend of Evie's, Syafiq. Syafiq was known as Arrows a long time ago; they had dated briefly. Syafiq had married a nice teacher 4 years back; they now had 2 bouncing little boys. There were other college friends as well.<br /><br />The talk was good, and the food delicious. Evie noted how none of them brought up one particular subject, which curiously both disappointed and relieved her.<br /><br />"You guys!” a voice shrieked.<br /><br />Juliza came rushing to their table with a gleaming smile. She was dressed in a lovely turquoise wedding dress, and the expression on her face was one of utter joy. A few steps behind her, Aliff quickened his pace to catch up with his bride.<br /><br />Evie, Marina and the others all stood up to greet their friend. Juliza was especially happy to see Evie there. She hugged her fiercely, with a faint hint of tears in her eyes. Evie realized then how little effort she had made to keep in touch with her old best friend. She felt guilty and selfish.<br /><br />Juliza must have noted a change in Evie's face, as suddenly she said, "I knew you would come".<br /><br />Aliff caught up with the gang and shook hands all around. The group talked and laughed for a few minutes, all of them clearly enjoying the moment. They took pictures, with Harith using a big SLR camera.<br /><br />Oh, Evie thought when she saw the camera. She was reminded of something. Stop it, she told herself. Then Juliza and Aliff had to make rounds to meet and greet the other guests, who must have numbered by the hundreds. The group sat back down.<br /><br />"So Evie..." someone said. It was Syafiq, whose wife Aleeya was feeding small spoonfuls of jelly to their 3 year old son. "What have you been up to?"<br /><br />Evie smiled. "Oh you know. Work. And work. And oh yeah... work!"<br /><br />The table laughed. Harith asked her where she made a living.<br /><br />"I'm at an ad agency off Jalan Sultan Ismail. Been there since 3 years ago I think. It's a good job. With great benefits, haha!” Evie said playfully while pointing out the platinum necklace with a pink diamond heart pendant on her neck.<br /><br />"Syafiq told me you were his girlfriend once", said Aleeya, but in a friendly manner. "So I came because I had to see the girl named Evie"<br /><br />"Oh he told you? She's not a girl anymore, thankfully. And oh my God, Syafiq you're lucky your wife here is so understanding", Evie said.<br /><br />"Yeah, if it was me I wouldn't have even entertained the notion of Harith meeting an ex-girlfriend!” Marina added, bringing more laughter to the table.<br /><br />"If I actually had an ex-girlfriend, that is", Harith said, cracking the group up again.<br /><br />"Syafiq and I were just friends, isn't it right Syafiq?” Evie said to Syafiq who suddenly blushed, much to the laughter of the group, and Aleeya, who smiled, clearly amused. Their two little boys were busy inspecting the many flower bouquets around their table.<br /><br />And then Aleeya asked her the question she hoped she would not have to answer today.<br /><br />"So what about you? Anyone special in your life right now?"<br /><br />Evie shut her eyes softly for a split-second, but it felt like millennia to her. She sighed inwards; of course, Aleeya would have no idea of her past wedding and divorce. Evie herself had buried it inside her heart for a long time now.<br /><br />People often ask her that: "So, are you seeing anyone?” From snotty married men who thought they were still prime, to clients not knowing the boundaries of professionalism, to young fresh college graduates who obviously thought they were God's gift to women.<br /><br />Evie usually ignored those questions, or answered in a tone that meant "you're crossing the line: stop". It did not matter to her. All those people wanted were to get in her pants.<br /><br />I haven't seen anyone since I got divorced four years ago, Evie answered in her head. She was about to give Aleeya a less depressing version of her answer when a man casually walked up to their table.<br /><br />"Hello everyone", the man said, nonchalantly. He was holding a plate with rice and lauk in one hand, a glass of rose syrup in the other, and a digital SLR camera hung from one shoulder. All of the people at the table turned to look at him, Evie included.<br /><br />Muhammad Rafar, dressed comfortably in a black batik shirt and slacks, stood beside their table holding his meal. He wore plastic rimmed glasses, and his hair was now shorter, but it still had that scruffy look, although the scent of hair cream meant he had made an attempt to manage it.<br /><br />"You! Haha. Come on! Have a seat!” Harith, his old best friend, greeted.<br /><br />"Ya Allah, I never thought I'd see you here!” said Marina. Syafiq waved and said hi, introducing his wife as he did so. Rafar apologized for not being able to shake hands with anybody since he was holding his plate and glass.<br /><br />"Oh God, then will you just put it down and eat already!” Marina scolded.<br /><br />He smiled at his old friends, and seemed to be indifferent to the fact that Evie was there.<br /><br />"I can sit here can I?” he said as he put down his plate and glass and took a seat right next to Evie, whose mind seemed to be stunned for a moment. Rafar immediately tucked into his food.<br /><br />"This is delicious", Rafar said as he chewed; he did not seem to pay any attention to the fact that Evie Nadia was beside him. But maybe that was just appropriate, Evie thought finally. We wouldn't want any awkwardness at the table.<br /><br />Rafar talked with Marina and Harith and the others at table as he had his food. Evie unconsciously shifted her seat so she would not be so close to him beside her. As Rafar ate beside her, she made an attempt to join in the conversation at the table. Still, she also found herself stealing glances at Rafar.<br /><br />A thousand questions raced through her mind: What is he doing now? Is he married? With kids? Or is he dating somebody? He looks like he's lost weight; is he okay? Is he okay that I'm sitting beside him? Does he even remember me? Do I look different without my glasses?<br /><br />"Oh man, this is just, like, ten years ago", Rafar suddenly said. He laughed, and the others joined in.<br /><br />Evie stared at the man sitting beside her.<br /><br />Wiseguy, she thought.<br /><br />----<br /><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">(to be continued..)</span><br /><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7420985887871930530.post-48096459007886050202008-12-25T13:42:00.000-08:002008-12-26T05:57:31.681-08:00Four Years Later<div style="text-align: center;">-----<br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs35pieRDeHc61SoW91Zg19Rp2yWhxQZY629hgpjesl5E3HI-YmdyEKUO-z_N1RWXB-IKRs4dqdnH-U9NbkTnT3r_h8SB33eRTXDYpKMxKI3duaH8q2FGzN88BOHkYElGXXB-uG4380RU/s200/kebaya.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283858919902323106" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2007/12/sugar.html"></a>The girl - no, woman - clad in her underwear, <a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2007/12/sugar.html">looked at herself in the mirror</a>, as she often did, a remnant habit from days long gone. She squinted her eyes, scrutinizing her body, touching it here and there. With a careless swing of her head, she threw back her long raven hair. She turned her body sideways, glancing up and down.<br /><br />Her figure was fuller than before, rounder in the correct places. She had put on a few pounds, but not in the bad way, and her body still had the tone and nuance of someone in her prime. She stuck her chest out, again an old undying habit, and tilted her head.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I look fine</span>, she thought. In fact, her slight chubbiness was only obvious because she was a skinny waif before. By no means was she even close to fat. A nutritionist and doctor would call her 'healthy'.<br /><br />But the biggest change from before were in the lines of her face. The most obvious difference from days of yesteryear was that she no longer wore glasses; corrective eye surgery had taken care of that. Sadly, she thought that the surgery had also taken away some of the gleam in her eye. She knew it was probably something else, but it just seemed that way to her.<br /><br />Her eyes were darker, and she had somehow<span style="font-style: italic;">(much to her annoyance) </span>developed dark circles under her eyes, which she now concealed with make-up. She looked wiser, quieter, no longer the spunky and cheery nineteen year old eleven years ago. She stared into the mirror for a moment, and began pulling faces, almost desperately trying to summon herself from the past.<br /><br />Finally she just smiled and sighed. <span style="font-style: italic;">I'm not nineteen anymore</span>, she thought.<span style="font-style: italic;"> I'm thirty.</span><br /><br />That thought comforted her as well. She felt that stepping into the age of thirty somehow validated her existence. Funny, sure, but she really did feel that way. Four years ago at the still early age of twenty-six, <a href="http://alternateyou.blogspot.com/2008/08/seven.html">she almost crumbled into depression from a divorce.</a> It had been too early. But in her sadness she found that life went on, and life would leave her behind if she did not buckle up and hitch a ride.<br /><br />She told herself to get on with it, to acknowledge her past but not dwell on it. Put simply, she needed to move on. Part of that process was losing her glasses; a seemingly trivial thing, but the act was significant to her. A milestone. A step towards moving on.<br /><br />So she did. Four years ago she started working really hard, and it paid off. She now lives quite handsomely on her own, and although she still stayed in the same cozy apartment, an apartment she once shared with another, the house no longer felt 'empty' to her. She had made it her own sanctuary.<br /><br />She no longer looked nineteen or twenty-six, but that was alright. She was still beautiful, and an outsider or an admirer would say she was like aging like a fine wine, with grace and becoming better. Her age brought to her a beauty she never had: the beauty of grace and wisdom. She was wiser. Stronger.<br /><br />She paused in front of the mirror, and adjusted the undies. Finally comfortable, she turned away and began dressing up in a cream kebaya, with matching sarong. She had a wedding to attend today, the wedding of a dear friend. A friend, again it seemed, from many years ago.<br /><br />Juliza Mahyuddin, her oldest and best friend, but one she hasn't seen in ages since college, was getting married today. Juliza was getting married to her college sweetheart. It was surprising it took them so long, she thought of her friend. But she was happy all the same.<br /><br />She finished dressing up and putting on light make up, and as she made her way downstairs to get her car, Evie Nadia Hakimi had a thousand thoughts swirling in her head. She was a bit excited at the prospect of seeing old friends.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Juliza.. I used to call you Tingles, </span>she thought as she was driving. <span style="font-style: italic;">And Aliff, your boyfriend now husband? Redfoot was it? Yeah. I wonder if the rest will be there. Marina; what was her nickname.. yeah, Bubblegum! Ehehe.. and Lucky..</span><br /><br />As she reached a traffic light junction her thoughts paused. She put on a pair of designer sunnies, taken from her overhead compartment. Before the lights turned green she took a quick look at herself in the mirror; for a split second, and with the glasses on<span style="font-style: italic;">(even if they were sunnies),</span> she saw herself as that nineteen year old from days gone by again.<br /><br />The lights turned green, and she stepped on the gas.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Years ago, </span>Evie thought.<span style="font-style: italic;"> They used to call me Sugar.</span><br /><br /><br /><br />---<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">(to be continued)</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7420985887871930530.post-66422837558308881152008-10-24T10:01:00.001-07:002008-10-24T10:01:43.776-07:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaCYHUlv_DBpbD3cOOCAmKeVh-zHH2GxQ_hrUjScdCdLy1PXJ6-5Mqc4OURvA-hLNfRjg5d1WjsLqgzAb80DmNnwM6KJx0KLCoAPXjt0D1hyphenhyphenKn-wadpXMv9ADy30BMhwkuhQNesJ-G0ZQ/s1600-h/untitled.bmp"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 388px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaCYHUlv_DBpbD3cOOCAmKeVh-zHH2GxQ_hrUjScdCdLy1PXJ6-5Mqc4OURvA-hLNfRjg5d1WjsLqgzAb80DmNnwM6KJx0KLCoAPXjt0D1hyphenhyphenKn-wadpXMv9ADy30BMhwkuhQNesJ-G0ZQ/s400/untitled.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5260766694852835250" border="0" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1