Over a spilled latte

I had a fun night out. Nothing to do with fine dining or partying or great movies. Fun is purely subjective. Some people thinks golf is fun. Some people thinks reading Agatha Christie is fun. Some people thinks sex is fun (who doesn’t?). But I had my fair share of fun night.

The plan was to meet Serena and Javad who wanted to have beef noodles at Petaling Street. I arrived late. Since I don’t know the exact restaurant of the infamous (or rather pretty famous) beef noodles, Javad said wait in front of Hong Leong Bank at the intersection of Petaling Street. As I saw him walk towards me, I went to him and as usual, he hugged and lifted me off the ground. This is really literally sweeping me off my feet. He was carrying me for a few feet until we heard weird cheering from the hawkers around. Obviously weird to see a hooded boyish girl being lifted by a tall Iranian guy in the middle of Petaling Street. Some people are just jealous. ;P Well, I don’t blame them. Maybe if they had some experience of being lifted up like that, they’d understand the child-like joy I get from it. šŸ˜‰

Although I didn’t eat the beef noodles, the soup tasted quite okay. I mean, my mom cook soups every week. So if it’s as close as my mom’s cooking, it should be okay. After that we went for some longan drinks and my chestnuts. Yes. MY chestnuts. Only a nut with a chest-rack can say that with pure conviction and confidence. šŸ˜‰ Before that we were talking about public phones so we wanted to test the theory whether public phone still exists and works in this mobile era. We found one and what do you know, it works! I have used public phones a couple of times for the past one year. I have no doubt saying that life circumstances will lead you to go back to your roots, or even time-travel to a backdatedĀ necessities such as public phones, pens and papers, postcards and snailmails. Those are the practices I still preserve in my life though. I wouldn’t preach (not that I’m preaching right now) or believe in something I wouldn’t do. I still write and receive postcards. And I do mail my love letters, handwritten love letters in a handmade envelope with a self-licked stamp on it. YES.

After Petaling Street, we head to Bangsar for coffee. Javad was going on and on about this G3 place so we decided to go there. G3 Bangsar impressed me much, a very laidback place for coffee and cakes and a good company. The friendly waiters and the laidbackĀ ambianceĀ is pretty comforting. Very nice for brunches or tea time with a good conversation (highly recommended on the conversation bit).

Then we got to talk about life and what goes around it. It’s nice. A very well traveled Chinese girl, a highly inquisitive Iranian guy and then ME. Neither well-traveled nor highly inquisitive (curiosity of a 12 year-old does not qualify to being inquisitive). We talk about pies, scones (or maybe not scones), big cookies, traveling, meditating, religion, languages, Farsi (I NEED TO LEARN THIS), and death.

I told Javad, that what I learn to believe about death, is how the passer-on (the dead) will finally get their peaceful rest, and how lucky they are compared to us, struggling in our everyday life, not knowing when we will die, how we will die. Then he asked me, “If I were to tell you, you’ll die tomorrow, what would you feel?”

Here’s my answer;

My only concerns are my debts. My PTPTN debts. My car loan. My Maxis debt. Monetary. Those are my responsibilities. I’ll be sad to know that I have left a burden on my parents to clear my debts for me. On the positive side, I’m quite satisfied with what I’ve done in life, what I’ve achieved (it being small and incomparable to many), the people I’ve met in my lifetime, and the love I gave. Another concern is the fact that I die before my parents bother me. Being raised as a Muslim, one thing I totally believe in is that our prayers for those who passed on will be something they would carry in their afterlife, wherever or whatever that is. And I can’t bear the thought of dying before being able to do that for my parents. If I die before my parents, who would pray for them? I mean, yes, my siblings, but who else. And I wanted to be that person. Who sends out those prayers for my parents.

Listening to myself, it dawns to me that I don’t have much worry for myself, except that my worries for others. Maybe that’s the hippie in me. I remember one thing from a sermon on TV during one of the Maal Hijrah show. Yes, oddly enough I actually listened and paid attention. The ustad was talking about the meaning of Khalifah. Pembimbing. Guider of mankind. We’re all guiders in life. We guide others. How we guide them is subjective. The fact that we’re sent down to living is to have an impact in the life of others is amazing. The scale of selfishness to selflessness is pretty wide, but with just one purpose. We’re either guiding by reminding, sharing, or holding their hands throughout our lives. We can do all that by either being their loved ones or even enemies. Seriously, Mitch Albom wrote a whole damn book about it. The Five People You Meet In Heaven. We never know how our actions have an impact in the lives of people we have never even met. But that’s the universe coinciding with this theory. I can go on and on with this psychoanalisis bullshit of mine. But why am I refering it to bullshit? Because I do, give a shit about it. šŸ™‚

Every year, we reach a new age, or landmark of our physical age through our birthdays. Some whine saying birthday sucks, a reminder that they’re getting old and probably dying. I tend to reflect on every single of my birthdays and think about the little achievements I’ve made. Maybe just to fool myself that I’ve done good for myself. But why am I so positive about life? It boggles myself even. There are times when I whine, rant and complaint, yes. But why not. A true Libran who justifies her own thoughts and behaviour, I’m fully utilising my emotional medium as a human being. Who live life with constant negativity and pessimism? Who live life with constant positivity and optimism? There’s a balance to it. Some uses the word moderation. Some goes back to humility.

We do as much as we can in this life. We don’t know about a next life, or an afterlife. Nobody knows. We believe. We have faith. As how we believe in God, in divine powers, in Mother Nature. As how we have faith in trust, in love, in nothingness.

As I let you ponder with all these nonsensical thoughts of mine, I go take Mother Nature’s call.

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