Amschely Dreams

1 I remember you, with whom I sat on the shore. You, whose eyes burned the beholder in sin, yet none pleasanter to drown in. As the sunset painted the sky amber, the spark inside your eyes flickered, and I saw your cheeks crimsoned, and your sun-lit golden skin gleamed. 2 I remember you, with whom I sat on the shore. You, whose smile trapped the beholder offshore. For a stranger from a foreign land, yours was a smile far too familiar. 3 I remember you, with whom I sat on the shore. You, whose touches lulled the touched with affinity. Like a pilgrim returning to their homeland, were your fingertips trailing across my skin. Like soothing waves washing over the sand, were your moist lips enclosing upon mine.  4 When your lips brushed against mine, whispered you, “Every person is an ocean.” Just as I saw myself in deep waters, was I engulfed with feelings so peculiar. Even then I knew the oceans at the Gulf of Alaska envied us. 2021, Jan 4.

I remember us on the shore, watching the waves roll, and people on their surfboards challenge the high tides.   I remember us on the shore, watching the birds fly where the sun was slowly leaving its throne, and the bleeding sky met the comforting blue sea.   I remember us on the shore, listening to the calming sounds of waves crashing into rocks, of waves washing over the shore, though the music was loud, all I could hear was my heartbeat, within me was chaos because like the waves you were drowning me.   I remember us on the shore, and the fire of life flickering in your ocean blue eyes and your lips curving into a smile, the same smile I had seen the first time we had ever met back when without stopping we’d crossed paths, and I too remember on that autumn day, under the sun-painted dusk sky, along the gentle winds and the fluttering amber leaves, your auburn hair had danced beneath your russet beani...

    “Seseorang akan mengetuk pintumu dengan begitu percaya diri. Ketukan itu mengalunkan lagu yang begitu familiar, namun usang di telingamu. Ketika ketukan itu berulang kali menyambarmu yang meringkuk di kasurmu dan menyelimutimu dengan kepingan-kepingan kenangan berkilauan seperti lampu berkelap-kelip dalam sebuah upacara suci dinamakan mengingat, kamu akan mati suri sebentar saja, sebelum bangkit. Ketukan itu akan menghantam dinding-dinding rumahmu dan meleburkannya ke tanah, kemudian meninggalkanmu tanpa perlindungan. Ketukan itu membawakanmu begitu banyak buah berair yang menghilangkan dahaga, namun entah bagaimana membuatmu lebih lapar dan lebih haus dari sebelumnya. Ketukan itu membagikan kepadamu seribu semut-semut yang menggigiti sekujur tubuhmu, tapi entah bagaimana rasanya tidak apa-apa."      Siapakah gerangan di balik ketukan terkutuk itu? Apakah gerangan kutukan ketukan itu? Tidak ada yang tahu kecuali dirimu sendiri. Meskipun beribu ketukan m...

I love how casually Muslims talk about death, even when they are gathered for a celebration, and how they still find death unifying, how they still laugh and smile, but cry at the same time, at the memories and unsung visions, and how they still can feel content in life though they are under the very thick air of doom. I love how, with all the strength left in them, they reach out to their loved ones, neighbors, friends, teachers, and even those strangers to them, to ask for prayers as they depart for Home, “Please forgive me, and help me with your prayers.” But, I know better, they are scared. I guess we all are, because I am.   1431 Hijri years ago, someone passed away in his bed and in that deathbed, he cried, “ Ya Ummati, Ya Ummati, ” in the hopes that his sakaratul-mawt would get ours easier, but is it?   Even if it is easier for the soon-to-be corpse, it isn’t for their closest ones, for their mother and fat...