(Originally written on 17 January 2009)
Have you ever had that perfect moment you cherish a lifetime?
I could name a few: one evening at Weston Park in Sheffield where I laid my body flat on the lush field, the daffodils moved timidly along with the spring breeze, the smell of freshly-cut grass wafted through my nostrils; that sweltering hot day, back when I was a child, playing hide and seek with my friends down at grandma’s orchard, monitor lizards and leeches never bothered me at all; the sound of waves helplessly crashing itself along the shores of Batu Buruk, a melody of water so haunting I could never forget the intensity.
And tonight adds to that long list of perfect moments I have been so blessed to keep in the deepest corner of my heart. Few lines scribbled on the Moleskine, too, would help jog the brain whenever needed. Janda Baik has never been foreign to me but we are hardly best buddies either, until recently.
Here on the grass of Zaini’s Guesthouse, I lay on the matt we spread around us, not far from the barbeque pit. Low cloud eases itself to the east, paving way for the thousands of stars in the sky to shine on us. The faint sound of Chal’s voice, singing rhymes to little Amin and Ammar, punctures the still of the night. Midnight wind caresses my bare face; my nose twitches a little to fight the cold breeze.
When I close my eyes, I hear gushes of water running against the slippery stones and pebbles of the surrounding waterfalls, crickets holding a shouting match and the lone voice of seruling from the chalet atop the hill.
Nights like this would inspire me until the birth of dawn in the sky. I wish I could hide in here forever, to romance the words away, to read until I turn blue in the face or to just lay still in the sweet embrace of nature.
Tell me, my friends, have you ever had moments like this? Goodnight wherever you are.
Postscript: I snapped the photo above from the spot where I wrote this, and I tragically lost the Moleskine. My heart bleeds until now.