Free counter and web stats Zubaidah Arshad: In The Memory of F Kamal

12.9.09

In The Memory of F Kamal

I felt immobilized. Like staring into one hell of the scariest figment of imagination came alive. Or like when your super massive big secrets came to surface of everyone's day-to-day talk. Or when you were about to die. Or else when you have died and you afraid that it would be eternal, you wailed to come back home.

I felt immobilized. Where the solid body shaped figure that used to be the static entity in my eyes slowly dispersed like a bubble being blown hard in the air. It sailed curvaceously like a harmonious sound from the reverberations of the strings of an old guitar that being salvaged from a burning home. The color of the bubble so enchanting it reflected vivaciously by the sun.

Now I am, staring into an empty space which its owner used to stretch a smiley face on me. A cute smiley face of someone I adored so much. A comforting look I've longed to see or at least a comforting look that could steer me away from this mess.

Two weeks of less-than-enough laughters, two weeks of heavenly world, two weeks between you and me.

Now you're gone. I am going to miss your presence, your smell, your sweet talks to me, our virgin date, our very first kiss.

And your eyes.

Good luck F. This letter of dismay shall not leave you in emotional depression.

I love you

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