

1st day (Nov 7th).
A night when firefly perch in the palm of my hand.
2nd day (Nov 8th).
Aunt’s kitchen in the morning.
3rd day (9th Nov)
5th day (11th Nov)
My nephew (Athaya and Gathan ) : The beatitude of childhood, lollipop and having a secret game.
6th day (12th Nov)
Freya my imaginary violin’s classmate.
Last day (13th Nov)
Haldora’s secret place.
Aku pun berada di senja itu
Kulihat ia diujung geladak memandang langit senja yang berkilauan
Aku tahu apa yang ia pikirkan,
…senja, laksana seorang penyihir yang mempesona
Mengubah riak gelombang menjadi mutiara-mutiara berkilau
Membuat Burung-burung camar terbang berputar diatasnya.
…senja, bagai panggung opera masquerade atau broadway
Terhampar mahligai tirai merah yang megah
Menjerat hati yg bersenandung ratap pilu.
Sejenak ketika peluit uap kapal meraung
Berbahagialah ia dan aku sang penumpang
Mengetahui rindu terobati
Pertanda kapal telah mencapai pantai
Senja telah ia lihat
Dan senja pun telah mengerdipkan warna merah emas menyala kepadaku
Andai….
Bisa kami rangkul didada langit senja yang berkilauan itu,
Seperti halnya butiran-butiran pasir
yang merembes disela jari-jemari ini.
This morning I went to Ciwaruga’s village ( Parongpong –
I think flower is a definite form of beauty.
Good morning flowers!
It was definitely surprising me having met with Andrea Hirata, my truly favorite writer in
Maxi’s Resto
Starbucks Coffee –
Fashion Pasta
Sushigroove –
Newspaper –
Café Terminus
Shin Men –
Gianni’s Tjihampelas
You can fly away
Fly like a bird
Across the sky
Above the clouds so high
Moon and the stars
Light up the sky
You visit a place in a timeless dimension
where all of your fears are at bay
Sun sets low across the bay
A beautiful light
Closes the day
You can visit anytime
It's always there
Just close your eyes
(on top of the world)
“Half the fun of the travel is the esthetic of lostness. - Ray Bradbury”
Uptown, the street's in a calming way
And outside is warm as a bed with a maid
And I find it's all our waves and raves
That makes the days go on this way
I heard the sad sound of words
Spoken from a beak of a wise old bird
Uptown, the streets are kept afloat
Our ground never leaves me alone
He means well, saying,
I've got stories of wine, superb
And of course my childhood, forks and knives
And a hospital bed, where I turned my life over and over again.
"Beirut – Forks and Knives (La Fête)"