Sunday, December 16, 2012

rendang in the making

Rendang in the making ;-) by cheryna_27
Rendang in the making ;-), a photo by cheryna_27 on Flickr.



Hello all beautiful people out there!

I know it has been a while since I have updated my blog properly and it has been ages since the last time I have visited your blog. Frankly, I am honoured with your presence despite my lack of visits so thank you to those who were here in this time of business.

I have been busy - with work, with life and with love.

Besides having an unscheduled work (which I thought would never happened again at this stage but it did), I have fell sick for quite number of times by end of this year. Perhaps it was the weather but there are unexpected circumstances as well when the challenges actually came from the imperfection of health:P

Nevertheless, I am welcoming you to this blog. I'm sorry again if your visits here are purposely to get my comments in yours as that might not be the thing that I can do at this moment. I will, however, try my level best but a guarantee is not something I can promise:)

For your information #entrybahasamelayusaya have already reached its fourth chapter and I have already created a label for it - in case you would like to read it. Some might think that you were actually reading a novel.

Indeed, it was something I wrote 2 years ago and has never been published. There were people who asked whether this was a true story or just a fiction. Well, I can't tell you exactly the percentage of the authenticity, but I can assure you that part of those stories exactly happened with twitch of edits to ensure no parties will be hurt and my professionalism will still be protected and maintained at all times.

Sadly, I am going to postpone my next posting on #entrybahasamelayusaya for 2 reasons:

1. To ensure that my blog is fully protected from copycats who might want to make this as their story - regardless their quality. Honestly, this is one of the reasons why I have shifted from writing in Malay to writing in English instead. Bad experience has taught me that some people thought they were original without even realising that they were actually living someone else's life:p

2. To give way to my Journal Cinta which will be scheduled throughout the whole week. This is something that I personally want to log in this blog regardless the response.

Therefore, should you be reading this blog, I would like to seek for your kind assistance:

1. If anyone has a clue on how to protect a blog from being copied, pls e-mail me/tweet me at:

cheryna_27@yahoo.com (e-mail) or @cheryna27 (Twitter)

This is to ensure that my blog won't be copied again or any ideas are not simply going to be pulled out of here without mercy (like suddenly someone is a barista without me knowing that the stories were acutely similar).

2. The entry for Journal Cinta will be about Cinta and most likely football - it's going to be a personal journal of my experience throughout the entire tournament.

Therefore, it will be much appreciated if you are not a fan of football and not really a fan of a woman in a stadium to provide me some space to breath. I am also a human who needs to learn how to love something which needs to be loved like a hobby. Please..please...please...I have been in a bit of patience recently - When I was writing in English, some people say that I did not appreciate my own language but when I did write in Malay, some just did not read it and jumped into conclusion:)

It's kind of emotional - this post is, and thousands of apology from the bottom of my heart if there is any offense. Your support and care will never be forgotten and I'm looking forward to give something in return. Insya-Allah:)

Until then...take care and have a good year ahead:)

Love,
cHiSHa cHeRyNa PiRes
posting a blog like cooking rendang
might not be frequent and different - as long as people get the taste:)
16122012, Seremban, Negeri Sembilan

Wednesday, December 12, 2012

entry bahasa melayu saya #4

Farid Kamil

Farid Helmi bin Ariffin.

Aku hanya terdiam selepas Farid meninggalkan bilik itu. Terpaku. Sumpah aku tidak percaya. Kepala masih berpusing mengingati apa yang baru berlaku sebentar tadi. Aku meletakkan tapak tangan ke pipi yang masih panas. Tak perlu cermin, aku sudah tahu bagaimana rupaku. Sudah pasti tidak perlukan blusher merah jambu seperti yang dikenakan oleh Ana. Rasanya Lancome pun tidak mengeluarkan rona warna di pipiku kali ini!

Punggung yang terasa berat (atau sememangnya berat?) dihenyak ke kerusi. Bibir masih bisu. Entah kenapa rasa jari telunjuk Farid seakan masih melekat di situ. Tidak. Rupa aku pasti teruk. Sebelum aku masuk untuk menemuduga tadi, aku sudah siap-siap mengenakan gincu berwarna merah. Biarpun ada jaminan dari Mac yang gincu itu pasti tidak akan melekat dan comot, tetapi aku pasti sisa jari runcing Farid ada di situ. Eh, perlukah aku curiga dengan jenama seperti Mac selepas menghabiskan duit untuk sebatang pewarna bibir?

Keluhan berat aku lepaskan.

"Teja!" suara garau itu datang entah dari mana. Jantung tiba-tiba terhenti. Aku melompat bangun dari kerusi dan mula memandang sekeliling.

Muaz. Dengan. Pandangan. Yang. Tajam. 

Aku menundukkan pandangan. Bencinya. Waktu ini aku tidak mahu melihat Muaz dengan wajah itu. Waktu ini aku hanya fikirkan Qairyn dan bagaimana hendak menemuinya. Waktu ini aku hanya boleh menghitung jumlah jam sebelum sembilan malam. Perlukah aku lari awal dari itu atau membiarkan saja apa yang bakal berlaku? 

Aku perlukan Qairyn! Terlalu perlukan dia sehingga aku rasa sesak melihat wajah Muaz. 

"Ada meeting pukul tiga setengah. I nak you gantikan I," suaranya tegas. Aaaaaahhh...bila masa pula sebaliknya?

Aku mengangguk lemah. Bukan tidak biasa. Muaz memang seorang yang malas hendak ke mesyuarat bila dia ada hal peribadi. Beg laptop sudah digalas. Raut wajahnya agak relax dan memerah seperti udang dibakar. Pasti dia baru bercakap dalam telefon sebentar tadi. Pasti teman wanitanya yang bekerja sebagai seorang doktor itu baru sahaja menelefon hendak mengajak dia ke mana-mana.

"I got some personal matters to attend..." itu sahaja yang masuk ke dalam telingaku. Selebihnya umpama angin, biarpun suara Muaz boleh dikatakan macho juga. Itu kata eksekutif-eksekutif muda yang menggilai Muaz di pejabat ini. Maklumlah, lelaki berkulit cerah, biarpun pada hakikatnya biasa-biasa saja nampak menarik bagi sesetengah perempuan. 

Yang pasti bukan aku. Aku tidak sekali menganggap Muaz itu kacak sampai air kopinya pun perlu aku bawakan.

Tapi...

Farid juga cerah orangnya. Aku masih ingat dulu bagaimana aku tidak tahu langsung yang Farid itu adalah Farid. Aku sangkakan Farid berbangsa lain kerana wajahnya tidak langsung persis lelaki Melayu terakhir seperti Remy Ishak atau ahli politik Khairy Jamaluddin. Malah, aku boleh katakan wajah Farid lebih Cina dari wajah suami orang pujaan Malaya, Aaron Aziz yang dengar khabarnya bukan Melayu tulen itu. 

Entahlah. Aku tak ambil pusing sangat pun dengan Aaron Aziz sebab...

"Teja! Dengar tak?!" sergahan Muaz tiba-tiba meletupkan awan-awan bayangan Remy Ishak, Khairy Jamaluddin mahupun Aaron Aziz di sekitar minda. Tapi, awan bayangan wajah Farid masih kelihatan.

Aku terpinga-pinga melihat wajah ketat Muaz. Tapi tidak lama. Belum sempat Muaz membuka mulut, suara Ne-Yo berkumandang dari telefon bimbitnya. Muaz mengangkat tangan menyuruh aku duduk sambil tangannya sebelah lagi memegang telefon di telinga.

"Hello B...I sampai sekejap je lagi. Don't worry, sayang," suara garau yang mengherdik aku mula bertukar menjadi suara sang ulat bulu. 

"Ye sayang...jangan risau. KLCC kan belakang office I je. Kejap lagi kita tengok Coach, okay?" nadanya begitu berlemak, bermadu, berkrim disukai ramai suara Muaz bin Johar waktu itu. Menyampahnya aku!!! 

Farid dulu langsung tak pernah nak mengada-ngada begitu. Tapi aku cair juga. Aaaahh...kenapa semua benda yang Muaz buat aku bezakan dengan Farid ni? Oh ya. Awan bayangan Farid masih berlegar di kepala. Pop! Cepat-cepat aku gelengkan kepala untuk membuang awan itu. Tapi gagal. Minda masih melihat senyum sinis Farid sebentar tadi.

"You pergi meeting tu, Teja. Lepas tu nanti balik meeting hantar I minutes. Kalau kena buat deck for proposal buat. Jangan you lambat," keras betul amaran Muaz sebaik saja dia beralih dari telefon bimbitnya. Aku baru hendak membuka mulut mengatakan aku perlu pulang awal apabila Muaz mengeluarkan dompetnya.

Sekeping wang berjumlah RM50 dicampak di atas meja.

"Pergi dinner lepas siap semua kerja. And please. As usual, tutup mulut. Orang tanya, kata I jumpa top candidate dekat luar" katanya sebelum berlalu. Bunyi hempasan pintu menyakitkan telinga. 

Aku memandang kosong ke arah helaian kertas yang dicampak dengan murah oleh Muaz. 

Apa dia ingat RM50 boleh beli sebatang pewarna bibir tidak melekat dari Mac? Silky Girl bolehlah.

"Q...aku nak jumpa kau. Please? 5:30 p.m? Sharp? Pasal Orkid. Farid is back."

*****

"Apa jawapan kau nak bagi dekat mak kau ni? Tentang Dhia ni sah-sah kau missed dah," tanya Qairyn sambil mengunyah sayur-sayuran di dalam sandwichnya.

Aku cuba membuat perkara yang sama dengan Spicy Italian di depan mata. Bukan satu perkara yang senang. Sandwich di Subway memang sesuatu yang digemari sampai hendak dijadikan makanan ruji.Tetapi bukan hari ini, waktu otak sedang sarat.

"Aku boleh cakap aku ada meeting lambat tadi. Ganti Muaz," jawab aku perlahan.

Cepat-cepat Qairyn menghirup Ice Lemon Teanya. Matanya mula mengecil memandang aku. Maklumlah, kalau sudah allergic dengan Muaz, sampai bila pun dia akan begitu. Pantang disebut!

Kemudian dia menjongket bahu sambil berkata, "Nasib baik Subway petang ni. Aku dah agak kau akan sebut nama si bahalul tu."

"That is work, Q. You know me..." senyuman hambar aku berikan. Walaupun daun salad itu bukanlah rangup sangat dan sudah diracik-racik, kunyahan di mulut Qairyn sama ganasnya sewaktu dia makan kentang goreng di McDonald's tempoh hari. Gara-gara aku sebut nama Muaz, gigi Qairyn yang terpaksa bekerja keras.

"So...Farid datang..." Qairyn tidak menghabiskan ayatnya. Aku cepat-cepat mengangguk.

"Mana dia tahu pasal Orkid?" Aku menjongket bahu.

"Selain aku...siapa tahu?"

Aku memandang ke arah Qairyn. Entah bagaimana aku hendak membuka peti ini semula. Sudah bertahun aku tutup dengan baik. Walau apa pun yang terjadi, hanya Qairyn sahaja yang ada kunci pendua peti ini. Tak pernah ku berikan pada orang lain yang sudah tentunya aku tak percaya.

"Sepatutnya tak ada," jawabku ringkas.

Qairyn memandang wajahku. Lama. Dia menghabiskan kunyahan terakhir sebelum matanya redup memandang mataku.

"Kau sayang Farid lagi, Ja?" lembut suaranya.

Aku menggeleng cepat.

"Ja, boleh jangan tipu aku?" 

Bahuku jatuh. Berat benar rasanya beban yang aku tanggung sejak jam 12 tadi.

"Nak nangis, aku ada ni..." pujuk Qairyn.

Aku memandang wajahnya sambil menggeleng. Masih bisu.

"Kau kuat kan?" 

Aku memandang dia dengan penuh tanda tanya. Kening lebat ini dikerutkan. Tidak percayakah Qairyn pada aku?

"Kalau kau kuat, jumpa Farid."

Aku seperti tidak percaya apa yang aku dengar. Qairyn suruh aku jumpa Farid? Sejak bila Qairyn berlembut pasal Farid? Tak pernah langsung! Macam mana Qairyn membela aku mengenai Muaz, macam tu juga perihalnya bila aku putus hubungan dengan Farid dulu. 

Ini apa?

"The man needs to talk, Ja," sambungnya.

"Sejak bila pulak kau defend Farid?" agak tinggi juga suaraku waktu bertanyakan soalan itu kepada Qairyn. Tetapi dia masih tenang.

"Aku defend kau," jawab Qairyn selamba.

"Kau tahu kalau aku jumpa Farid, cerita aku tak akan habis. Dia yang mulakan, Q. Kau ingat tak? Dia yang kata taknak tengok lagi muka aku?" Membara rasanya memandang riak Qairyn yang tenang setenang-tenangnya bila berbicara pasal Farid. Rehat betul giginya dari mengunyah apa-apa. 

Qairyn hanya terdiam dan merenung aku lama. 

Tanpa aku sangka, dia meletakkan iPhone 4S di telinga dan dengan yakin berkata,"Farid. Subway. Avenue K. Datang sekarang."

Waktu itu lutut aku terasa lemah. Qairyn hanya memandang aku dengan wajah tenang. Aku bingkas bangun dari tempat duduk.

"Kalau kau sayangkan aku, kau duduk sini balik Ja. Aku tak pernah minta apa-apa dari kau," katanya.

Aku memandang wajahnya dengan hati yang luka. Aku tidak faham agenda Qairyn. Sekarang aku terasa seperti bukan hanya aku seorang yang berahsia. Rahsia Qairyn rupanya lebih besar dari yang disangka!

Tiba-tiba Qairyn menguntum senyum. Terasa hangat bahu kiriku. Aku berpaling untuk melihat punca kehangatan itu.

Farid tersenyum bangga ke arah Qairyn sambil melepaskan tangannya dari bahuku.

Biar betik?

continue #entrybahasamelayusaya or not?

Mum's workstation is mine!!! by cheryna_27
Talent is GOD given. Be humble. Fame is man-given. Be grateful. Conceit is self-given. Be careful.


#entrybahasamelayusaya was a delayed project by Chisha Cheryna Pires.

How do you see it so far,folks?

Do I need to continue?
If yes, I need to know how to protect my post ;-)

Tuesday, December 11, 2012

entry bahasa melayu saya #3

Nora Danish

“Jangan lupa balik awal esok. Tentang Dhia dah nak masuk episod akhir!” suara ibu kedengaran sangat ceria di hujung talian.

Aku ketawa kecil. Secara jujurnya, sejak ia mula ditayangkan aku tidak pernah sekalipun berada di hadapan kaca televisyen. Mana tidaknya, pukul 7:00 malam adalah waktu terbaik untuk aku fokus kepada kerja. 

Iyalah, waktu itu Muaz dan boss-boss semua dah balik, jadi dapatlah aku membuntangkan mata menghadap nombor-nombor dalam Mircosoft Excel.  Tidaklah kena kacau.

Selepas meyakinkan ibu bahawa aku akan pulang ke rumah sebelum drama itu bermula, aku terus meletakkan telefon. Tugas di hadapan aku amati perlahan-lahan.

Gadis itu comel orangnya. Raut wajahnya mirip Nora Danish. Sepit rambut plastik yang dikenakannya berwarna shocking pink, senada dengan gaun yang dipakainya.  Kasut, tas tangan dan gincunya juga dalam nada warna yang sama. Aku tersenyum kecil. Cukup pandai dia menggayakan warna. Kalau dia ditugaskan menjadi guru di sekolah, mesti dia boleh jadi popular macam Cikgu Habsah di sekolah aku dulu. Selalunya cikgu-cikgu popular ni pandai bergaya. Kasut mesti matching dengan handbag, baju mesti matching dengan tudung. Itu pasal Cikgu Habsah dulu boleh menang Anugerah Guru Paling Popular, hasil undian semua pelajar di sekolah. Sapu bersih!

Agak-agaknya, kalau aku ambil dia kerja di Communicate Berhad, boleh ke dia menang anugerah?

Pen Hello Kitty berwarna pink di tangannya dimainkan perlahan-lahan. Dia masih tersenyum malu. Aku menantikan jawapannya sejak sebelum menjawab panggilan ibu tadi. Sudah masuk lima ke sepuluh minit, dia masih belum menjawab.

“Ana, I’m waiting for your answer,” sapaku sambil tersenyum.

Dia mengangkat wajah sambil tersengih. Haaii…memang comel. Nasib baik aku yang menemuduga hari ini. Kalau dapat Muaz, sah-sah terus lulus.

“Mmmm...Puan, boleh Ana cakap Bahasa Melayu tak? Ana ni orang kampung. Mak Ana cakap, kalau kita tak tahu, kita kena mengaku, “dia menjawab dengan muka yang tulus.

“Okay...okay...boleh cakap Melayu, “ aku menjawab serius. Sebetulnya markah penguasaan bahasa Ana sudah ditolak dari tadi. Sebagai sebuah syarikat berbilang kaum, semua pekerja digalakkan untuk menguasai kedua-dua bahasa – Bahasa Melayu dan Bahasa Inggeris bagi memudahkan komunikasi dengan semua pihak. Namanya pun bekerja dengan syarikat telekomunikasi.

“Puan tanya tadi, bagaimana Ana mengatasi stress? Macam ni, Puan: Kalau Ana stress, Ana selalunya akan cari satu kawasan yang lapang, macam air terjun ke, kemudian Ana akan jerit kuat-kuat. Bila semua yang terbuku di hati dah diluahkan, Ana sambung balik kerja,” ujarnya dengan ton suara yang paling ceria dan wajah yang paling manis.

“Tapi kan, kita bekerja dalam suasana di pejabat. Mana nak cari kawasan luas untuk menjerit?” aku bertanya.

“Eeerrrr…Puan, kalau kita tak boleh menjerit kuat-kuat, kita menjeritlah dalam hati. Dalam toilet ke?” Ana menjawab dengan pipi yang memerah. Atau itu mungkin blusher merah jambunya, aku kurang pasti.

“Awak nak menjerit dalam toilet?”

“Yelah. Sekejap saja. Siapa yang tahu?”

“Dah pergi toilet dekat office ni? Rasa-rasanya boleh menjerit ke?” Aku menduga Ana. Kali ini, dia perlu memberikan aku jawapan yang munasabah.

“Errr…belum lagi, Puan,” jawab Ana tersipu-sipu.  Dia menggaru kepalanya yang tidak gatal sambil membetulkan sepit rambut merah jambunya. Secara tidak sengaja, aku ternampak hiasan di atas klip rambut Ana - seekor kucing berwarna putih tersenyum dengan comel. Eh, sepit rambut pun ada Hello Kitty?

“Ana, apa perkara yang paling anda suka dalam dunia ni?” Aku cuba bertanya dengan ramah. Kali ini aku harap Ana dapat memberikan jawapan yang agak matang. Sebabnya, jika dia terus-terusan memberikan jawapan sebegini, maka tamatlah sessi temuduga aku pagi ini. Cukuplah. Banyak lagi kerja lain.

“Macam mana tu, Puan?” dia bertanya balik kepada aku.

“Ana ceritalah, apa yang Ana paling suka. Warna kegemaran Ana, hobi Ana, cita-cita…apa-apa aje.”

“Oooo…macam tu. Ok, macam ni. Anak paling suka warna pink sebab warna pink melambangkan kewanitaan dan cinta yang baru berputik. Lepas tu, Ana suka Hello Kitty sebab ia sentiasa membuat Ana riang. Cita-cita Ana pula ialah untuk menjadikan dunia satu tempat yang gembira,” ujarnya sambil tersenyum girang.

Entah kenapa aku seperti menantikan dia berkata, “Kita enjoy!” di hujung kata-katanya tadi. Aku rasa, selain dari bakal menjadi Pekerja Paling Popular di pejabat, Ana juga ada bakat untuk jadi pelakon tiru gaya atau dalam bahasa orang putihnya, impersonator.  Gaya Ana menerangkan tentang dirinya tadi sebiji macam pelakon Nora Danish. Boleh buat persembahan untuk annual dinner nanti, hati kecilku semakin nakal mengusik.

That’s interesting, Ana. Lagi satu saya nak tanya, siapa pelakon kegemaran Ana?” aku cuba menyembunyikan rasa ingin tahuku dengan membuat muka selamba.

“Siapa? Tentulah Nora Danish!“ Girang benar nampaknya dia.

“So, mesti minat Ana Lu’lu? Puteri?” aku meneka.

“Mestilah, Puan. Sebenarnya itulah watak-watak kegemaran Ana. Sentiasa ceria dan berfikiran positif,” jawabnya bersungguh-sungguh.

“Kalau macam tu, mesti awak minat Tentang Dhia juga?” aku meneka lagi walaupun sudah tahu jawapannya.

“Eh, mestilah Puan! Ana sedih sangat bila Zikir curiga dengan Dhia. Ada ke patut? Kalau macam tu baik Dhia kahwin dengan Azmi je!” Panjang betul jawapan Ana. Kalau tadi bila aku bertanya tentang kerja dia hanya menjawab sepatah-sepatah, kini bila aku ‘buka’ sedikit pasal Nora Danish, jawapannya terus berpatah-patah!

“So, malam esok Ana depan tv lah ye?” Aku harap Ana faham yang dia masih lagi dalam temuduga.

“Mestilah, Puan. Puan macam mana, minat Dhia ke?” Yang ditemuduga bertanya yang menemuduga.

“Taklah. Saya peminat Melly, isteri Azmi. Yang jadi Cikgu Zakiah dalam cerita Juvana tu. Kan nama saya pun Zakiah?”

*****

Selepas menemuduga kembar lain emak dan lain bapa kepada Nora Danish, aku nampaknya harus menemuduga enam orang calon lagi. Macam-macam ragam dapat aku lihat. Ada calon yang datang dengan memakai selipar Jepun, ada tak tahu apa itu transkrip, dan ada pula yang menjawab semua soalan dengan “Entah”. 

Sudahlah begitu, terlalu ramai pula yang tidak tahu berbahasa Melayu dengan betul ataupun tidak cuba langsung untuk berbahasa Inggeris. Malah, seorang calon dengan selamba dan beraninya bertanya kepada aku sama ada aku sudah berkahwin ataupun belum.

Temuduga zaman dahulu tidak sama dengan zaman sekarang. Tidak seperti dulu, penemuduga lebih tercabar dari mencabar. Jika zaman dahulu penemuduga selalunya berperawakan garang, tegas dan lebih autokratik, penemuduga zaman sekarang lebih berfikiran terbuka dan peramah. Maklumlah, sungguhpun bilangan graduan menganggur agak tinggi di negara ini, tapi anak-anak sekarang lebih demand dan kurang segan silu untuk berkata-kata sungguhpun ketika mereka sedang ditemuduga.

Aku selalu berkongsi dengan rakan-rakanku tentang perasaan aku ketika menemuduga. Tidak seperti dalam novel atau filem, sebenarnya orang yang menemuduga lebih gementar perasaannya. Apa tidaknya, dalam masa setengah hari atau sehari, masa boleh dibazirkan begitu sahaja. Adakalanya temuduga lebih mengusutkan fikiran. Macam apa yang berlaku pada aku sekarang ini. Seharian menemuduga, tapi tiada satu pun calon yang sesuai.

Ketika aku sedang sibuk mencongak markah yang perlu ditulis di dalam borang temuduga, pelayan tetamu datang menjengah.

“Dah habis ke Kak?” dia bertanya.

Interview semua dah lepas. Akak tengah kira markah ni, Shima. Ada orang nak pakai bilik ke?”  aku bertanya sambil mengerling ke arah jam tanganku. Baru pukul 12 tengah hari. Selalunya orang akan sibuk menempah bilik untuk mesyuarat selepas makan tengah hari.

“Tak, kak. Ni…Shima nak bagi tahu. Ada seorang lelaki kat luar tu nak jumpa akak. Tapi, tadi akak tengah interview budak-budak tu, jadi Shima cakap, akak tak mahu diganggu,” wajah Shima kelihatan serius. Dalam masa yang sama, nampak agak serba salah.

“Lama ke dia tunggu?” Aku bertanya.

“Lama. Sejak budak Nora Danish tadi tu sampailah calon yang ketujuh,” jawab Shima sambil tersenyum simpul. Seolah-olah ada rahsia di sebalik senyumannya.

“Laaaaa…kau pun perasan ke, Shima? Akak ingatkan akak seorang je yang perasan muka dia macam Nora Danish!” Aku tergelak. Shima tergelak sama.

“Akak ni…mana boleh Shima tak perasan! Budak tu bawa handbag Hello Kitty datang interview. Shima bayangkan dia nak bekerja dengan akak. Tukar bilik jadi warna merah jambulah bilik akak lepas ni!” Shima ketawa terkekek-kekek. Aku hanya tersengih tapi mata masih memandang borang temuduga.

“Tapi budak tu lain dari yang lain tau. Shima tahu tak cerita yang Reese Witherspoon berlakon tu? Legally Blonde? Budak tu macam dalam Legally Blonde lah. Semuanya warna pink.  Tapi apa yang kita tak perasan, orang macam ni sebenarnya unik dan daring.”  Aku cuba untuk tidak mensensasikan cerita Ana kepada Shima. Biarlah temuduga tadi kekal menjadi sulit.

“Akak ni…mana Shima tengok cerita orang putih. Lainlah kalau akak suruh Shima tengok Ombak Rindu, mestilah Shima tahu,” jawab Shima jujur.

“Eleh, kau tu tengok Ombak Rindu pun sebab Aaron Aziz kan? Pigi dah…” aku mengusik. Shima tersenyum nakal sambil menjeling.

“Tu, dekat luar tu…akak punya Farid Kamil tengah tunggu. Lama sangat dia tunggu tau, kak. Sabar pulak tu. Jeles Shima. Kalau Aaron tunggu Shima macam si Farid Kamil tu tunggu akak, alangkah bestnya. Akak nak Shima panggil dia masuk dalam ni ke?” soal Shima sebelum aku mengusik dia dengan lebih rancak.

Aku mengangguk sambil tanganku lincah mengira markah.  Tidak lama kemudian kedengaran pintu diketuk.

“Masuk,” aku melantangkan sedikit suara untuk didengar sampai keluar. Tujuh belas per tiga puluh untuk Ana Nora Danish. Hmmm…tak lepas. Tapi lebih baik dari calon-calon yang lain. Aku menghela nafas sambil mataku terus menuju ke pintu.

Susuk tubuh itu sangat ku kenali. Cara berjalan itu juga tidak asing untukku. Aku memandang ke arah tangan yang memegang tombol pintu sebelum mencari wajah empunya diri. Terlalu familiar rasanya.
Sehinggalah empunya diri bergerak ke arahku dan haruman wangian dan tubuhnya menusuk hidungku, aku sudah tahu siapa dia.

 “Hello my ex. How are you?”

*****

Senyumannya masih sama seperti dua tahun yang lepas. Tapi itu memang assetnya sejak dulu. Semua orang tahu dia suka tersenyum dan aku tidak. Kata orang, opposite attraction itu salah satu sebab orang jatuh cinta. Yeke? Entahlah.  Melihatkan dia di depan mata aku sekarang ini, aku sudah tidak pasti lagi dari mana cerita kami bermula.

Yang pasti, di saat ini dia sedang tersenyum. Dan aku tidak. Apa lagi yang boleh diharapkan selepas dua tahun? Kan tadi dia panggil aku ex dia?

“Farid.”

“Teja Zakiah,” lesung pipit menghiasi pipi kirinya. Bibir nipisnya serasi dengan sepasang mata kecil yang nakal itu. Tak sangka, selepas dua tahun, aku dapat lagi melihat ciptaan Tuhan yang pernah aku puja satu masa dulu.

Dulu. Aku ingatkan diriku serta-merta. Mesti ada sebab dia datang ke sini. Takkan suka-suka?

“Apa you buat kat sini?” Aku bertanya straight-to-the-point. Senang.

“Jumpa you.” Jawapannya straight-to-the-point juga.

“Tipu.”

“Tak tipu.”

“Tipu!” Suaraku agak tinggi.

“Ssshhh…kenapa nak jerit ni? Ja, I’m sorry kalau I mengganggu kerja you. But yes, I datang cari you,” Farid memandang tepat ke arah anak mataku. Aku tunduk. Benci menghadap pandangan itu. Lidahku terus kelu.

Aku tahu, setiap kali kami berbicara tentang sesuatu, aku mesti kalah. Hari ini, aku kalah lagi. Walaupun baru satu soalan aku tanyakan padanya, aku telah merasa tidak mahu bertanya apa-apa lagi. Kalau boleh aku hanya mahu dia pergi dari sini. Pergi, dan jangan kembali lagi.

“You janji dengan diri you, you tak nak tengok muka I. Ni apa?” Aku bertanya juga. Tapi nadaku tidak seperti tadi. Ku rendahkan sedikit dek memikirkan bilik mesyuarat yang terletak di sebelah bilik ini.

“I datang cari you, Ja. Itu je. Dan kalau boleh lepas ni, I nak minta masa you untuk kita bincang tentang kita,” katanya.

“Kita? Kan dah tak ada?” Intonasi mencabarku memanah telinganya. Aku memang sengaja mahu dia sakit hati dan pergi.

Tetapi tidak. Dia hanya tersenyum memandangku dan berkata, “Dah tak ada tapi masih ada urusan lagi, kan Ja?”

“Urusan apa lagi? I dah pulang semua dekat you. You dah ambil semua!” Suaraku naik semula.

Farid hanya terdiam dan perlahan-lahan datang menghampiriku. Semakin hampir dia kepadaku, semakin aku melangkah ke belakang. Sehinggalah suhu sejuk dinding melanggar belakangku, baru aku berhenti. Dengan perlahan juga Farid mengangkat jari telunjuknya dan membawa jari itu ke bibirku.

“Ssshhhh…nanti orang dengar.  Baik you ataupun I tak mahu siapa pun tahu.So, keep your tone down, darling. Tthis conversation is just for the two of us. Nobody is supposed to hear,” bisiknya perlahan. Aku dapat merasa hembusan nafasnya di pipiku. Bau Dunhill Desire semakin merebak masuk ke dalam rongga hidungku.

“Farid…jangan dekat-dekat macam ni. Please…ini office I. Nanti orang lain nampak,” aku melembutkan suaraku. Aku sedar tubuh Farid hanya beberapa jengkal dari tubuhku.  Dan jari telunjuknya masih berada di bibirku.

“Pukul berapa you free malam ni?” Farid tidak mempedulikan rayuanku tadi.

“I kerja…”

“I jemput you dekat office pukul 9 malam ni,” katanya sebelum sempat aku menghabiskan ayat.

“Farid…there’s nothing to discuss anymore…”

“There is,” dalam ketenangannya ada ketegasan.

“Apa lagi, Farid? Dahlah…cukup…” Aku menolak tubuhnya yang makin rapat ke tubuhku.

Dan serentak dengan itu juga aku terdengar suara berdehem berdekatan dengan pintu.

Muaz!

“Ehem…Teja? Kata interview candidate untuk jawatan assistant you. Yang ini ke?” seperti biasa Muaz mengeluarkan nada sinisnya. Aku terkaku di situ.

Tapi Farid tidak. Dia terus pergi menghulurkan tangannya kepada Muaz.

“Farid.” Pendek sahaja cara dia memperkenalkan diri.

“Muaz. Teja’s boss,” jawab Muaz serius sambil menyambut tangan Farid. Sebelum menutup pintu, Muaz sempat memandang tajam ke arahku. Telinganya merah. Habislah aku nanti.

Tapi sebelum machine gun Muaz tiba, aku perlu berdepan dengan Farid yang kelihatan tenang dengan segala situasi di dalam bilik ini.

Please. I nak jumpa you malam ni. We’ll talk about Orkid,” katanya sebelum berlalu.

Aku terasa seperti ada bom yang menghempap kepalaku di saat itu. Besar. Seperti bom di Hiroshima. 

Qairyn!!!

Wednesday, December 05, 2012

bulu kaki siapa paling panjang?

We are here  ;-) by cheryna_27
We are here ;-), a photo by cheryna_27 on Flickr.

“There was brotherhood between people who had fed from the same breast, a kinship that even time could not break. - Amir” 


Oh Malaysia,
Kita Bersaudara,
Oh Malaysia,
Satukan Jiwamu,
Selamanya Harimau Malaya,
Selagi Kita Bernyawa,
Oh Malaysia,
Kau Kebanggaanku.


Love,
cHiSHa cHeRyNa PiRes
writing while chanting
Malaysia vs. Singapore AFF Suzuki Cup 2012
credit to Ultras Malaya
25112012, Stadium Nasional Bukit Jalil

Monday, December 03, 2012

cinta, bila hati berdetik

...as i dream of our love by .:Amanda Michelle:.
...as i dream of our love, a photo by .:Amanda Michelle:. on Flickr.

"Sha?"
"Hmmm."
"Kau ada boy friend?"
"Ada."
"Ada?!!!"
"Ada."
"Tak cerita pon."
"Buat apa?"
"Dia budak mana?"
"Sibuklah. Buat apa kau nak tau?"
"Ceritalah, Sha."
"Tak payah."
"Sha?"
"Hmmm."
"Kau panggil dia Cinta ye?"
"Haah."
"Romantiknya kau."
"Biasalah. Dah cinta."
"Kau cinta dia?"
"Sangat."
"Sampai mana?"
"Sampai aku sanggup ikut dia mana-mana."
"Sha?"
"Hmmmmmmm...apa lagi?!!!"
"Kau tak takut nak bercinta ye?"
"Tak."
"Bahaya, Sha."
"Cinta aku ni tak bahaya. Cuma sakitnya datang dari orang lain."
"Mak ayah kau ke?"
"Diorang galakkan."
"Habis."

Silent.

"Sha?"

Snore.



I have always believed that falling in love was one of the things which was hard, difficult and took time to develop. Sometimes I even wonder whether love was something that I was not capable of; knowing the level of commitment and sacrifice which I had to make. There were times when I described love as something far like the stars in the sky. Sometimes I thought that love was just shadows to be chased.

Either way, I knew that for the past few years of living in this world, I have tried to fly and chase. Falling and failing have been translated into stories in life; it was hurtful, colourful and vengeful - yet I still survive.

It was not as if that I have never been in love before. 
It was just that I felt that love was something not only meant to be for lovers. I have always been in love with my family. I was quite firm when it came to my love towards my job. But there were times when I wonder whether those were the only love I have ever known. 

Until one fine day when someone whom I considered a stranger told me:
"Come to AFF. You will have more to write! This time, it will be different."

I laughed. Frankly, I laughed so hard until I thought that I wanted to cry.

I have no issues of people calling me a paranoid. It was never easy for me to determine a gesture which was sincere or serious. My perception have always been so sceptical and cynical until I drew this virtual boundaries between myself and several people in this world. 

Being a woman was not easy. Football was considered as a game played by the male; regardless how many times the women played in World Cup or Olympics. Therefore, I rarely talked about it with those who only knew on how to belittle my thoughts.

Rather than being hurt, I would rather stay away. "Tak terhegeh-hegeh" was how the elderly put it in words.

So, when a man, whom I presumed as normal, suggested that I should go to the stadium and watch a football, I found it hilarious. I started to search for the signs of hidden agendas. I found several, but for some reason I ignored it.

I learned about this person by acknowledging the part that he was a good man despite what he claimed to be. Sometimes I wonder whether he realised that he got so much kindness in him that I begun to admire. Several times when I noticed that he tried too hard to be someone unfavourable to goodness without even sensing that he only showed his good character more and more.

Perhaps, that was the reason why it was difficult for me to let him go. I have always been approached nastily when it came to football. Aside from my brothers and best friends who understood about my passion on football, nobody ever told me to come to football matches. I have been bruised and tortured despite my knowledge about the game. I have been bullied with lack of facts and male ego. I have been threatened to let go of my passion.

So, despite the hidden agenda, as I presumed, there was no other reason for someone to ask me to got to a football match; moreover a tournament. But should I be negative all the way?

I let myself out of my shell and tried to get to know a person. I learned to be more open about football. I forced myself to cut down the ego by showing the real side of me - at least when it came to football. It has been hidden there somewhere. I let it go at home with my family; but never with someone else. Not since my best friend, Mr. Ketupat got married. 

But surprisingly, I did not even realised that I was technically cured. Each day, I looked forward to talk to him. When I felt that things were too full in my chest, I blurted it out. I remember there was a day when I felt that life was caving in and I nearly broke into tears due to uncontrollable anger. Someone actually yelled "Perempuan tak layak tengok tiket bola aku ni!" in front of everyone and made me looked like a fool.

I kept things bottled up inside until I talked to him. It felt like getting warm hugs from my brothers who were miles away from home. It was like having my parents' ignorance of other people's unconstructive comments. It was like having my best friend, Mr. Ketupat again in life - saying, "Aku kenal kau." When things went bad, it never occurred to me that a stranger made it all comfortable again.

But there was one thing that this stranger managed to do: 
He brought love back in my life.

Hola!!! Don't jump into conclusion folks! He might have that special spot in my heart right now but it was not what you think :)

The love that I was telling you was my Cinta - the name I called football when I was 13. 

That was when I was holding on to the belief that Liverpool would win a trophy one day. That was the time when Zami Mohd Noor was my greatest hero ever and I had his shrine in my room. That was when Pires became second name after Cheryna. That was when I learned that Gianluca Pagliuca was out of the reach. Most importantly, that was the time when my parents allowed me to be a teenage girl yet nurtured the love towards the game. As a young girl, I had never been stopped from watching a football match. I have never been criticised of having boobs and vagina, for football's sake!

Dear folks, I have forgotten the name Cinta until I met this person. 
I called football Cinta when my friends were busy with their boyfriends or crush. I had none. I was too busy breaking the hostel's rules and spent time with my best buddies. We never talked about any boys. So, when some girls talked about their boyfriend, I was having Zami's picture under my pillow and broke into the TV room to watch late news :)

So, you may want to guess the feeling that I have at this moment, folks.

Like a thirteen year old girl, I am currently in love again. With my Cinta. With the passion that I swore would never end. My heart beats faster, my adrenaline's pumping, my mouth smiling. I have forgotten that this love was what made me strong. That was when I was 13. At the age of 30, it is still there, getting stronger.

It takes a stranger to make you realise that you have been in love for a lifetime.
Love which is not necessarily to a human.
When you are in love, you care less about negativity.


p/s: Missing JLo concert was just fine :)


Tuesday, November 27, 2012

entry bahasa melayu saya #2


Bell pepper
Lada Benggala
Tun Teja Ratna Benggala. Benggala. Aku melurutkan keningku yang tebal berkali-kali. Benggala? Lada Benggala aku tahulah. Lada yang tembam-tembam tu...Ooops. Salah perkataan. Buat masa ini aku tidak mahu menggunakan perkataan seperti itu. Buat menyakitkan hati!

Aku menilik jam di sebelah kiri lengan. 8:30 malam. Sebentar lagi rakan-rakanku akan “berjumpa” Tom Cruise. Aku boleh membayangkan bagaimana reaksi mereka selepas keluar panggung. 

Seperti perempuan normal yang lain, mereka akan membandingkan wajah Tom Cruise dalam Mission Impossible, MI2, MI3 dan yang terbaru, MI4. Memanglah kalau difikirkan logiknya akal, wajah Tom Cruise sekarang tak akan “sejambu” wajahnya di zaman kami bersekolah dulu. Kalau diikutkan, ketinggian Tom Cruise juga akan tetap sama. Apa yang penting sebenarnya adalah waktu untuk bersama rakan-rakan. Tom Cruise hanya satu medium untuk mencetuskan suasana, mengingati kenangan lama dan mencipta kenangan baru.

Bukan mudah untuk mendapatkan semua rakan-rakan berada di tempat yang sama dalam masa serentak. Dalam usia yang menginjak ke 30-an ini, kebanyakan rakan-rakanku sudah berkahwin. Kalau dibuat reunion sekalipun, kami perlu fikirkan tempat untuk kanak-kanak. Tahun ini sahaja sudah empat orang rakan-rakan aku menambah bilangan anak. Bukan yang kedua atau ketiga, malah ada yang sudah menambah ke anak yang ke-empat!

Lantas kesempatan yang diberikan oleh para suami yang sporting itulah digunakan sebaik mungkin. Bukannya selalu. Hanya sekali dalam sebulan. Itupun jika tidak ada yang sarat mengandung, dalam pantang ataupun anak menyusu badan. Kalau tidak, anak diutamakan dulu. Nasib kami baik sebab kali ini, tidak ada yang masuk dalam kategori itu.

Cuma satu kategori ditambah:
Kategori Sarat Mengandung Dengan Kerja, Berpantang Tidur dan Menyusukan Boss yang Kebudak-budakan.

Yang termasuk dalam kategori itu cuma seorang: Aku.

Lagi difikirkan, lagilah menyakitkan. Sedari tadi aku hendak menangis sebenarnya. Tetapi prinsip mengatasi segala-galanya. Aku cukup faham dengan perangai Muaz. Taktik pulang awal selepas sessi “perbincangan” tadi hanyalah untuk menyakitkan hatiku. Meskipun Muaz tahu yang aku tetap akan mendapatkan tandatangannya sebelum penetapan akhir gaji setiausaha baru itu, dia tidak akan lupa untuk menyakitkan hatiku. Analisis dan cadangan aku perlu dirombak semula – kali ini dengan mengetengahkan “bakat-bakat tersembunyi” Fira. 

Di dalam hatiku hanya berdoa, tiada siapa yang tahu tentang pertimbangan mengarut ini. Kalau tidak sudah pasti gamat pejabat ini nanti.

Sedang aku hampir menyiapkan tugasan, tiba-tiba telefonku berbunyi:

“Hai beb! Buat kerja lagi ke?” suara ceria Qairyn menyapa telinga. Aku terus tersenyum.

“Hai…Eh, bukan kau orang patut tengok Tom Cruise ke? Apa kes?” aku dengan segera melihat ke arah jam tangan. 9:00 malam. Wayang sepatutnya bermula sejam yang lalu.

Guess what? Tak jadi! Anak demam, suami outstation, bibik balik Indon…macam-macam alasanlah! At last tinggal aku je. Sekarang aku tak tahu nak buat apa dah. Bosan!” Gerutunya di hujung talian. Aku menghela nafas lega sambil tersenyum. Bukanlah aku suka rakan-rakanku tidak datang, tapi sekurang-kurangnya aku tidak menangis sendirian di dalam pejabat.

So?” Aku meniru gaya sinis Muaz siang tadi. Aku rasa Qairyn dapat merasainya.

“Eeewwww…kau jangan nak jadi macam boss kau si Muaz bodoh tu ye! Sudah. Pack your things, aku jemput kau dekat office. Kita pergi jalan-jalan cari makan,” dia mengomel tanpa henti. Omelan itulah yang meluruskan kening tebalku yang bertaut sejak Muaz pulang petang tadi.

Aku ketawa kecil. Tetikus berlari ke ikon bawah sebelah kiri, dan….shut down.

*****

“Muaz cakap macam tu dekat engkau?!” Qairyn menunjukkan wajah tegang. Aku tersenyum melihat gelagatnya. Dia memang selalu emosi apabila aku bercerita tentang Muaz. Walhal secara realitinya mereka tidak kenal antara satu sama lain. Sungguhpun begitu, reaksi Qairyn selalunya tidak disangka-sangka.

Yup!  That’s Muaz…” kataku sambil menjungkit bahu.

“Tapi…tapi…kau boleh saman dia! Pergi pejabat buruh, beb. Do something!” hidungnya kembang kempis.

Aku ketawa kuat.

“Beb! Aku tak buat lawaklah. He harassed you! Humiliated you! Dia tak gentle, beb. Lelaki budiman tak buat macam tu. Serius tak jantan!” Nada Qairyn malam ini agak berlainan.

Memang selalu dia marahkan Muaz bila aku terpaksa bekerja macam orang gila, tapi tidaklah sampai sepanjang malam dia bersuara soprano. Aku rasa fun fries McDonald’s di depan kami betul-betul digunakan untuk melampiaskan kegeramannya pada Muaz. Kumamannya betul-betul ganas!

“Kau lupa aku kerja apa, ye Q?” aku bertanya sambil tersengih nakal.

“Dia tu ular! Kau tahu tak ular? Kulit putih tapi hati hitam! Kalau ular letak sebelah dia, kau bunuh dia dulu!” Sekumpulan remaja berbangsa Afrika memandang Qairyn dengan wajah tanda tanya. Aku rasa, kalau mereka betul-betul faham Bahasa Melayu, sudah lama Qairyn ada teman sparring baru. Minta-mintalah mereka tak faham.

“Q, kau tahu tak Pak Arang sebelah kita ni dari tadi mengusha suara soprano kau tu? Cakap slow-slow sikit, boleh?”  Aku memberi amaran sambil mengetap gigi. Takut jika suara soprano aku pula kedengaran.

“Aaahhh…kalau boleh aku hantar dia orang ni semua pergi belasah Muaz, lagi bagus!” Qairyn meningkah sambil meneguk Coca Cola saiz besar. Aku tersengih. Dek terlalu marah, Qairyn lupa tentang pelan dietnya yang telah diusahkan sejak enam bulan lalu.

“Jangan sebab Muaz kau lupa diet kau…” aku mengangkat kening dan menjuihkan bibir ke arah makanan di depan kami.

Qairyn terlopong.

“Alamaaaaakkk….” Wajah kesalnya timbul.

“Cik Qairyn, awak tu nak berkahwin tiga bulan lagi. Cuba jangan lupa…” sengihku melebar apabila dia menolak fun fries itu ke tepi.

“Huuuu…macam mana ni? Habislah! Besok dah kena jogging extra tiga round. Ini semua Mu…”

“Kau berhenti marah Muaz tu. Tak guna. Nanti kau tak sedar, fun fries pula masuk mulut,” kataku sambil menggenggam tangannya.

“Tapi beb…” dia memandang wajahku geram.

“Tak berbaloi kalau kau gemuk time wedding hanya sebab marahkan Muaz. Dengar cakap aku,” aku terus menggenggam tangannya erat.

“Jantan tu dah melampau! Kau patut buat something, Ja. Kau tak buat, nanti dia akan melebih kenakan kau. Aku tahu, Ja, dia dengkikan kau. Dia yang bodoh, tapi kau je yang kena terima bala…” sayu kedengaran suara Qairyn di telingaku.

“Q, kan aku dah cakap. Kerja aku memang macam ni. Orang, kalau tak puas hati boleh mengadu ke HR. Tapi orang HR pula nak mengadu pada siapa, Q? Kalau kami bersuara, kami dilabel anti pengurusan sedangkan kami sendiri bawah pengurusan. Kalau sakit hati dengan pekerja pun tak boleh juga. Kami kena sentiasa bersedia mendengar. Hakikatnya, siapa nak dengar suara kami ni, Q?” Aku terus menggenggam tangan Qairyn.

“Sampai bila, Ja? Kau hari-hari bermalam dekat pejabat. Kalau aku tak jemput tadi, mesti kau dah tidur sana. Mana life kau, Ja? Dulu kau tak macam ni,” Aku tak boleh mengenepikan nasihat dan omelan Qairyn. Walaupun kebanyakkan masa aku berundur secara halus dari perbualan kami mengenai diriku, tetapi aku harus memberi rasa hormat kepada perasaan ambil beratnya terhadapku pada hari ini.

“Qairyn sayang…kau tahu kan, kenapa aku kerja keras? Semua bergantung pada aku sekarang. Ingat tu…” aku memegang bahunya lembut.

“Bukan sebab nak lupakan kisah lama ke, Ja? Cinta lama?” sayup suara Qairyn bertanya soalan itu
.
Aku tidak ingat sama ada soalan Qairyn aku jawab ataupun tidak.


Monday, November 26, 2012

Puisi Satu Petang #KanvasPutih

Puisi Satu Petang #KanvasPutih by cheryna_27
Puisi Satu Petang #KanvasPutih, a photo by cheryna_27 on Flickr.
#KanvasPutih

Kanvas Putih aku
Ada bunga warna ungu
Ada tulis nama aku
Ada simpan hati itu
Bukan untuk cari seteru

Kanvas Putih aku
Mata sepet bukan tak buka
Cerita sedih cerita duka
Tapi bukan menambah luka
Ubat rahsia sebalik cerita

Kanvas Putih aku
Kongsi senyum rasa gembira
Senyum kulum seribu rasa
Senyum manis umpama gula
Senyum tawar bukan tak rela
Senyum pahit bukan tak suka
Perlu selinap makna ku kata

Kanvas Putih aku
Ada kenangan untuk ingatan
Bukan makna tidak ke depan
Bukan pula hidup berangan
Tapi itu semua pelajaran
Untuk aku juga kalian
Yang baik diikut yang buruk jangan
Yang cantik diamat yang nista dilumat
Walau bukan kata hikmat

Kanvas Putih aku
Bukan tinta keramat
Bukan azimat sendat
Cuma hidang untuk yang minat
Cuma naskhah buat yang hormat
Cuma sindiran buat yang benci amat
Tapi semuanya letak di niat

Kanvas Putih aku
Untuk yang tersayang
Untuk si bayang
Untuk yang bengang
Untuk yang miang
Untuk yang mengganyang
Istimewa untuk yang mengenang

Kanvas Putih aku
Bukan sekadar berlagu Ungu
Cinta Dalam Hati dan Demi Waktu
Tapi mungkin merahnya Rasa
Warna warni Pelangi Senja
Atau jambunya Penghujung Cinta

Kanvas Putih aku
Milik Cheryna
Dia bukan mencari arjuna
Atau berkicau lagakkan nama pena
Tapi cinta Tuhan di atas sana
Dikejar direbut bagai pawana


Love,
cHiSHa cHeRyNa PiRes
writing a puisi at last!
Special Dedication to SyaraMohammad and Buku Jalanan Seremban
24112012, Lebuhraya Utara Selatan.

Saturday, November 24, 2012

betina mulut puaka

Bakal dikucup dgn gincu merah ;-) by cheryna_27


Today...

Let's talk about the old blog posts and the recent tweets in Twitter, folks...




"Zaman stadium merdeka mana ada puaka betina di stadium.. "

I dedicated this post to my parents; whom I knew in my opinion were the best people to portrait a love story in the stadium. As a Manchester United fan who got married to a Liverpool fan; they were rivals.

So they decided to channel their love towards football in the stadium and all four of us were the result of their dates. They taught us to support our own state. Our own country. 

They brought us to places where no parents would want to bring their children at that time. They dressed us with football attires. 

It has never occured to me that after 30 years of living in this world, somebody would come out with such tweet. When my parents brought us to watch football at Stadium Merdeka, little did I knew about the names being called. 

Perhaps, at that time, nobody called her names like this. 
Perhaps, the boy who tweeted this has never met my mother in Stadium Merdeka. 
Or perhaps, his own mother had never watched football like mine did. 
Perhaps, our backgrounds were different after all.


"#LelakikeStadium sebab mereka bukan kaki disco"

In this post I have illustrated how supportive my parents were towards supporting local football and Zami Mohd Noor was my favourite footballer. 

Perhaps, this person has forgotten that Zami was one of those boys who were caught because of going to disco in the era of 90s while presenting the country. He was also called, a "Disco Boy" back then. I believe that the person who tweet the statement above might have forgotten the history. Well, our media was not good in keeping archives. So, I understand where he was coming from. Even if I said that out loud, he would have said that a lady knew nothing. Nothing at all. 

Perhaps he would made fun of me, don't you think?

Perhaps he could not recalled Zami as Zami was not playing for Kuala Lumpur; but for Negeri Sembilan. Perhaps our teams were different after all. The states were different. The teams were different.

Who would have thought that I'm travelling three states a day? :)

Perhaps he have forgotten that we were in the same country; embracing the same culture, regardless the gender.


Blog post: 13 Oktober 1982 

"Mohon kepada wanita yang masih juga berani dan ingin bergomol di dalam curva supaya menghalalkan tangan ini supaya meraba anda!ultras kan!"

I dedicated this post to Ultras Malaya and did mentioned, "Ultras Malaya was born by males who, from my own perspective, believed in "greatness comes from madness". I have never mentioned female as the founders.

I have never said anything bad about them because they were good people, at least to me. Based on my experience, I have never been touched in an inappropriate manner before. In fact, I was helped when my scarf fell down or when I lost sight of my brother in a huge crowd of Malaysian fans during Singapore vs. Malaysia, where the crowd was unforgettable compared to other games).

I had also said this, "I was just one unnoticeable female in a huge crowd of males;yet I was proud."

Perhaps, the person who tweet this did not understand that there was a minority of female who could stand the smoke, the male sweat, the noise and the fear of not wearing wedges to football matches. If they have the training for more than 20 years, well, they could not be bothered about all that. 

Perhaps, he didn't know that I always had my brothers, my brothers' friends, my friends around me who would be able to protect me as long as I did nothing wrong. 

Perhaps, he did not even realised that I knew where to stand in the crowd. Definitely when my boobs were about to be protected. 

Perhaps, he just did not know that I watched football not since yesterday but since I was four (which I could remember).

Perhaps, he just didn't know me at all :)

Or perhaps, he would love to send the message to his friends who brought their girlfriends there. He could not stand the temptation of two globes called breasts.

Perhaps, he was just helpless.


"Bak kata rakan aku yg lagi satu ni,kaum hawa yg pompang citer pasal ultras ni nak jadi TWEETFAMOUS..attention seeker ler tu.nak no tel boleh"

Perhaps he just knew that type of women and he grouped all women as one :)




"berapa kali ko nak ulang wahai pompuan.aku dah boring dengan presentation ko tu.jgn cakap je,sila bagi black and white." 

I dedicated this post to all girls. This post was taken from personal experience. I have never counted the number of matches of Malaysia playing against Singapore, frankly :) 

And...this picture is showing the tickets for the match tomorrow :) 

I was sick for several days since last week and have been on MC for a while.
Forgive me for my lack of visits to your blog:) 

I woke up early this morning with only few bucks in my hand. I knew the ticket would be a bit expensive for a huge family like us but this would be our "vacation" so why not? 

So, I took the train from Seremban at 9:30 and reached Stadium Nasional Bukit Jalil around 10 am. My mission was to have this. 

Guess what folks? I cried. 

I had a runny nose, coughed like nobody's business and made an attempt to ensure that my temperature went below the level. I knew I was sick. I knew the doctor would want to see me again. But this was what I called love, folks. This was what I called passion. 

Perhaps, tweets were thoughtless.
We should just ignore them when we knew deep down who we were and what made us the person we are today.

Support Harimau Malaya!

Love,
cHiSHa cHeRyNa PiRes
writing with AFF Suzuki Cup 2012 tickets and a black t-shirt under her pillow tonight
24112012

Friday, November 23, 2012

pasal sirih junjung pun kepoh

Sirih Junjung
"You're not a good person because you like doing what's right. You are one because you do what's right even though you don't like it"

Few years ago, when I was still working two jobs in a day, I had this dream:
To love and to be loved.

Perhaps it was true that Hindi movies were made with happy ending so that the manual labours were not going to burn the cinema. They endured too much and pain and sadness in their lives until they refused to have that in a movie. A story in the film was their escape; and that escape required free mind and smiles and grins and...HOPE.

As a normal girl at the age of 20s, I have set my dreams and hope. So, I planned my wedding in my head.

This was my post back then in this beloved blog called Love is a Four Letter Word:
My family spread a huge tikar mengkuang under cherry blossom (sakura) trees. Then on top of the tikar mengkuang, there is a guy wearing white baju Melayu sitting on bantal nikah, shaking the Tok Imam's hand while vowing, "Aku terima nikahnya Chisha Cheryna Pires dengan mas kahwinnya RM200 tunai..." Then the flowers fall on everyone's laps; hiding the tears from parents' faces...

Then, there will be a fat bride (that'll be me!) in a purplish white baju kurung sitting together with the families on the tikar mengkuang. She smile broadly while the falling flowers creates extra accessories to the brides tudung as they fall on her head...hmmm...nice...

It is such a simple ceremony with lesser than 20 guests.

Simple kan?

I had never dreamed better than that. All I wanted was an outdoor wedding. Somewhere under a tree, with a little bit flowers here and there. Of course I dreamed of cherry blossom wisteria, and hydrangea just like in the Japanese anime. I was engrossed with Fruit Basket back then :)

But even when I wrote that post three years ago, I knew that there would be a reality.

When I reached 20, I told my mother that I would be finding my own partner. But she would be free to choose a partner for me (provided that she knew that there would be compatibility and chemistry). I believed that parents' blessing was everything.

When I reached 25, I discussed with my mother about my wedding plans. I had someone asking for my hand at that time, and we were confident that we could make it. So, the plan was an akad nikah, hantaran of 7 returned with 9, a wang hantaran of RM7,777.77, and 200 guests. The ceremony should take place at Masjid Negeri, Seremban which was also just in front of Seremban Lake Garden. I imagined my family picture under a tree with flower petals; even though it might not be a cherry blossom tree. 

Back then, nobody questioned about the plan of a small ceremony. In fact, they suggested for more brilliant ideas.

"Kalau kakak kahwin nanti, nak bagi telur jelah. Apple pon best. Sebiji seorang cukup," my mother immitated me. My aunties were around.

"Haaa...bagus jugak. Traditional macam tu, kan kakak," my eldest aunty told me.

"Kalau jadi, kahwin, aunty...jodoh tak tau lagi. Tapi tulah...ingat nak buat simple macam dulu-dulu, pakai tisu," I answered.

"Eh, kau biar betul kakak? Orang dah tak buat dah macam tu. Kedekut betul!" my other aunty exclaimed.

"Orang tak buat la nak buat ni. Nak buat style tradisional telur dalam tisu ikat macam gula2 or bakul tu," I smiled.

"Tapi tisu nanti koyaklah kakak," the other aunty said.

"Pakai serviette yang kotak2 ke, style English flowers tu kan cantik?" I said with a grin.

They nodded approvingly. There I was, smiling with my wedding plans.

Unfortunately, folks, things were not going according to plans. Aye, I bought my bras with him. Aye, families were happy to see us together. Aye, we were very much in love. But, Allah knew better. I would be telling you one day, about him and my crushed pelamin. But let's just say that it did not end up like a fairy tale.

Alhamdulillah, the family has been very understanding and nobody said hurful things.

"Lovely insight into your thoughts and dreams Sha...dreams are free so dream on. I will definitely do your wedding if and when you get married, insya-Allah. Now that I know what you like, I have ideas to share with you that will make your purple event beautiful. Why limit to one colour? That's old school. Do 2 or 3 even 5 shades of colours that will blend with purple. I have done tons if weddings with purple themes. But most of the time it is according to what my client wants. If you give me a free hand and let me create something unique and different for you...then I will give my best. Hehe."

I have number of aunties and neighbours and even my mother's friends to consider - so far they have been very supportive.

At the age of 30, I was ecstatic whenever friends were getting married. I took annual leave when cousins were going through their akad and made sure that they had the best ceremony ever. I never skipped a wedding, unless it was totally unavoidable. For me, a predicament did not stopped me from celebrating others.

I read about Kiera Sakura's wedding plans and it made me smile - she loved sakura. It was her wedding theme. Well, someone's dream came true even though mine crushed to ashes. I loved the way she wrote about her journey and the way she carried herself. No snobbish comments, no pessimistic vibes and narcissist statements. 

Perhaps, that was the reason why she was one of my adik sayangs in this blogging world :)

However, I was annoyed with some things that I found in Twitter:
"Kepala hantaran. Kepala hantaran tak sudah. Kepala apak hang. Nak sangat sirih junjung bagai - menjunjung adat katanya. Bazir tahu? Bazir."

It was just an engagement ceremony from what my friend told me but the engaged girl made hassle more that Diana Danielle ever did for her wedding! Well, at least Diana Danielle was cool and beautiful and I had the contradict impression towards the girl who tweet that about sirih junjung. I was told that she was pissed because it cost her RM80 to prepare sirih junjung when she could buy other things with the money. She had also proposed for 7 returned with 7 hantaran but it was rejected by the aunties.

Some aunties were difficult to handle - they complained too much. But age has taught me that your maturity and manners play the role. If they have been approached in better ways, their ideas were listened to, and you made them believed that your idea had a point, some might listened. Aye, some aunties tend to feel that they were right all the time - but if one believed in you, there was no way that your points would be defended.

Besides, I always believe that sarcasm won't resolve the issue. Especially when you can't handle the sarcastic remarks given by others :)

Besides, it would be nice to keep calm and save your mother some face, don't you think?

Takkan kita nak orang kata mak kita tak tahu jaga anak pula?
Kalau saudara kita bilang cilaka, musuh kita panggil apa pula?