Penat

I had the longest weekend ever.



My morning overslumber was cut short. Me and the siblings headed off to Arwah Ayah's grave for the occasional visit as early as 8 in the a.m. Things looked pretty at the graveyard as the municipal council workers were busy clearing the place off overgrown wild shrubs and unattended bunch of trees. It gave the place a facelift. A much needed one if I should say so. We left as soon as we're done reciting the Yasin, but something in me is still there. Maybe a mountain of regret or perhaps a sea of doubts or probably a sky of grief. I know I've never been the good son I am obliged to be. I've been blessed with so many wonderful findings in my life that not even one of it reminded me to be thankful of it. To be thankful to Him. Day by day I seem to be neglecting what was once my only faith. My pillar of devotion. Forgive me, Ayah.

I sent my Jagmaster a fortnight ago to Amir for servicing. He gave me a great discount but I still have to fork out RM55 for it. Then I left it at Music Walk for a few hours for string replacement. That's another RM30. Geez.

Azhar, Bono and Bob arrived at my place around 1 and we zipped to KLIA instantly. Mimi's leaving for Dublin. Naturally I wanted to get something for her as a token of good luck, but I came empty handed. She on the other hand, gave me my advance birthday present. A cool cocoa-grey-striped shirt. I was speechless. Maybe the whole airport wondered why this boy looked like he had a hanger in his mouth. I was so ecstatic. Thanks Dids! I'm working on something for you. It'll be in your mailbox soon god-willing.

Bono and me were in disbelief as we saw Mimi dissapeared from our sight as she made her way through the immigration counter. It's difficult to accept the fact that she's gone. No more random SMSes, no more William's, no more Mango's, no more Salmon Steak's, no more movies. Well, at least for a year. So you go work your ass off and do us proud ya hear?! Heh.



Hmm. Someone better tell me for good that the expressway is not a speedway. Not. A. Speedway. Normally by average it'll take you 30-45 minutes to get to USJ from KLIA but somehow I did it in 15.

The only reason I pulled that stunt was that we were behind schedule for the band's recording session. So that also explains why I splurged a wad of my cash on the guitar without hesitance. It was Azhar's idea for us to make a live recording of the new songs. He thinks that it should be put up at the band's Myspace page. I thought it was a brilliant move on his part since we can treat it as a pre-production phase before we hit the studio again late this year for a proper EP. It took us 2 hours just to lay down the basic guitar-bass-drums part alone. Tiring as hell. Shah and Azhar were done with theirs in less than an hour.

The Overture Of Dollah Tiger & Mat Chicago is missing something. Maybe it really need vocals. We're seriously considering Syamil for that guest slot. His grindcore days are far from over. He still has the chops for it. Eversince the day we wrote Aviation Spirit, I had my own qualms about it not being 'Telephony Delivery' enough. But after a few adjustments and a clever improvisation from Azhar, it turned out to be our biggest sounding song to date. Slightly majestic, sparsely euphoric. I've always had a soft spot for Faux Fiancee Foe Pt. 2. Not because I came up with it, not because it was my first string section composition but what striked my fancy was how it was shaped to be the breathtaking beast it is. Each and everyone had their mark on it. But that song took me, Bob and Adib countless of takes to call it a wrap. The 'grindcore' part proved to be too off-kilter for our own good. I think in the end we chose to go ahead with the 1st take. Too much of not enough? Maybe.

Although overall we did well -considering the last time we played/practiced was at/for JamAsia- I've got to hand the 'men of the match' award to Shah and Azhar. Shah was magnificent with his acute sense of handling the inticrate duties of audio effects. His timing was impeccable, his application was sufficient and his instinct was right on the dollar. Azhar's playing has expanded greatly and it'll be interesting to see his future maenderings. I'm happy to say that the band's first ever (unofficial) pre-production went mighty fine.



Then came Sunday.

I turned 21.


Ibu felt that it was the best time to hold a birthday bash-cum-open house. I felt weird. I can't really remember when was the last time my birthday was celebrated with people other than my parents and siblings. I felt even weirder when Ibu told me to go and get the birthday cake from Secret Recipe myself. So much for a surprise. I had to act surprised when the time came for the ceremonial cake-cutting Kodak moment. Actually, I got 2 cakes. Thanks to Auntie Ani. She always make a point to bring something to the table even when we're running out of table space. God bless her. Akak, Pojam, Li, Azhar, Bob, Izzat and Adam made my day. Awesome company. My nieces and nephew were running around the house like it was their birthday. But then again, everyday is a birthday to them. Heh.

Nonetheless, the whole event was superb. A convergence of friends and families? What more could I possibly ask for? I couldn't even be bothered about gifts in any form by then.


But a Proton Wira?


Damn son, a 6-year old 2nd hand it may be (an under-utilised company car to boot) but it still serves the purpose. I was more than thankful. My worries were put to rest. Walking back home from campus during Ramadhan is a big no-no. After I'm done packing, I had to leave for Perak soon before it gets dark. It was my first PLUS highway journey so I had to take every necessary precaution hence leaving early.

Someone must really, really remind me that the highway is really, really not a speedway. I reached the Gopeng exit in an hour and 15 minutes. Ayah don't seem to be joyful about it. But then again I seriously think he's responsible for rubbing the speedy needy flu on me.




So maybe you had a longer, more meaningful weekend than me but nothing can beat what I got out of it. No, not the Wira. Not the neat shirt nor the satisfying recording session. Not even the barrage of birthday wishes from unexpected acquaintences.



I have the best, most understanding and most loving parents one could ever, ever ask for.

Now beat that.