I hated the song Sejarah Mungkin Berulang. Nevertheless, I was still singing that song when I went for karaoke last week. Adik was looking at my distressed face when he decided to treat me with an hour of pleasure. I had a chance to scream my lungs out. For some odd reason, I chose this "tangkap leleh" song over several of my favourite songs. Well, it was not that odd, actually. My cracked voice could hit the note for that song instead of others. I just couldn't bring out the Rossa in me because I sound more like Tomok:P
This is a confession of frustration. Last year, I was working as a barista. The small amount I earned for living was not enough to cover my expenses to go to Stadium Bukit Jalil. The ticket price was RM20 but with Tanker as my mode of transportation, it was impossible for me to go to the stadium without hurting my pocket. I had badly wanted to take the LRT but I was not sure of the schedule. I was afraid that I might got stuck near the stadium. Sleeping in the stadium with the watermelons on my chest was not a good idea. AT ALL.
Throughout the misty eyes, I screamed when we won the game. I laughed at the times when I thought that I was an unlucky person who did not managed to see all those stupid and hilarious things that the Kelantanese fans were doing. I was breathing a clean air; without any smoke from the fire crackers or burning chairs.
I didn't go to the match.
This year, Sejarah Telah Berulang. The match was between Kelantan and Negeri Sembilan. AGAIN. The day Negri won over Johor FC, my brothers have declared that they won't allow me to go to the match. I was heart-broken (and still is). The mamak stall was where I was heading to last weekend (but I ended up sleeping in my aunt's house). I desperately wanted to laugh after turbulence after turbulence in my life!
My predicament was caused by the ticket price this year. How did you expect me to support six family members with RM30 as the price per ticket? Fuel? Toll? It was too outrageous! Regardless, money was not the major concern. My brothers were more worried about my safety. They said, "Your watermelons look like durians now. We just don't want these Kelantanese guys to disturb you. They disturbed our friends last year and they only had nasi lemak 50 sen. Not our sister this year. No."
And I nearly cried.
That problem was not just when I wanted to go to the stadium to watch football. I'm not Kim Kardashian - that one spot called nasi lemak is not for public view nor exhibition! Talk about nasty comments I have received before - in school, at the office, at home, or even when I went for Quran recital:(
I stared at my profile picture in Facebook. The picture of me wearing colourful afro wigs. I painted my face with Negri flag colour when we met Kedah during Piala FA. No, I could't do it again.
Nasi Lemak 50 sen? Not me!
My nasi lemak is at indifinite figure.
Nasi, timun, kacang, ikan bilis, sambal sotong, udang petai...paru...rendang ayam...telur mata...the list can be very..very...very...long. Maybe I should call them Nasi Lemak Watermelon!
It is too costly to be criticised.
Alhamdulillah! Anugerah Allah...
But what makes people so indecent these days?