Great Man, You will always be miss

It's going to be five years since the last time you left us.
But everything about you just seems so unforgetable.
And every now and then, we continue to talk about you.
Each time we do, we miss you.

Everytime we are reminded about how, 'empty' the house without you, or how I was reminded of the long alley that lead to the small provision shop behind our house, or the way you greeted us warmly each time we banged on the metal door, how I wish you were still around.

Sometimes, I still wonder why did you left so fast that day.
And though I know the reason why, but, sometimes I wonder if I have not prayed hard enough.
Sincere enough.

It was such a pity that when you were alive, we hardly had a one on one time talk together.
And that time, I hardly went back to see you too.
The next thing I know, I got to wait for a very long time before we finally meet.

I wonder what do you think when you see us from up above?

Have you seen him? Your youngest grand son?

Everybody has grown up and I hope you are proud of us.

Hopefully by the time we meet, you will be able to recognize us still.
And yes, hopefully we will going to meet in the same place.
I'll do my part.

And if you are watching, do help me.

And well, maybe I never said this, and in fact, I can't really write it down here, but all I know the reason why Medan seems so dear to me, though I never really lived there for long, is because you used to be there. And the love and warm welcome that you had given to me had influenced me so much that Jalan Asia has becomes such a memorable place for me.

A place where I can always find myself at home whenever I go back to Medan.

Thank you for your love for us.

Great Man, you will always be miss.

Love and Peace,
Yu

The joy of Knitting

There is always something to look forward to whenever I went back to Medan.
Either it is about a celebration of some sort, or something to learn about.

And this year, I went back for both.

Not only am I able to spent some Chinese New Year celebration with my maternal family, going around visiting their homes, exchange greetings and blessings for this dragon year, I was also able to learn something that I have been wanting to learn all these while, and which my aunties are very good at---Knitting!

And though I will very much say that I am not a very artistic sort of person, but I do love needle craft, which to some extend is considered as a form of art too, except that it is in a form of fabric, thread and needles instead of paint oil, canvas and brushes. And to my surprise, I'm able to absorb the skills pretty quickly (and of course with the help of a good teacher too,my aunt) that in within 5 days of learning and practicing, now I'm able to knit myself a simple- pattern-shawl (HAPPY!)

Anyway, here is a picture of my first knit, which involves two forms of knitting skills, the knit stitch needle, and purl stitch needle :) Enjoy!















Aeromeal

I have always like the food on the aeroplane, although sometimes,well, it was not as appetising as the other.
Nevertheless, I continue to like it despite the fact that I have not been eating above the ground for so long---due to the short distance travelled.

I guess is because each time I ate it, it reminds me of the time when I was a little girl and I boarded the airplane for the first time--seeing the little cutesy cutleries and tray that was placed before me, it just makes me feel so happy. Even until now.

And usually, the food are good!
Like the Risoles  (Indonesian chicken pie) that I ate earlier on, or the simple bread and butter that I took when I boarded on Air France's business class one lucky day with my cousins, to the western food that was served by SIA on my trip to the US, and not forgetting the Haagen Dasz ice cream!

Delicious!

And I had great fun eating them all.

Been sometime since the last time I travelled, and fortunately, my Airplane table manners is still with me :)

Anyway, been a good experience so far--what's not right when one is serve with good food, good service, good flight, good weather, and finally, from my part, a "Good Night".

The time now is 2:11 a.m.
Gotta go...

Love and Peace,
Yuliana :)

To Love and Be Love (The Hardest Thing)

A fiction

Under the rain a woman collapsed to the ground as her world turned upside down.

With the little strength she has with her, she looked at the figure that was walking further and further way from her.
The figure was moving so slow, yet it seems so fast that underneath the heavy rain, it seems like a blurry image in her eyes.


She stared and continues to stare even after the figure already become a little thin line among the crowds.

With her thin wet hands she hid her face.


As she closed her eyes in between her tears, traces of memories of how good they were once before all these things happened came to mind.

“I love you” he had said many times.


Unfortunately, her heart which belongs to someone else, could not accept his feeling and this made her to make the hardest thing in life- to hurt the man who loves her.



They’ve met long before he met that other girl.
It was love at first sight for him.
And ever since then, he had spent using all his time, mind, efforts, strengths and even days thinking about her. Hoping he will meet her again.

Sadly, time was cruel.
They hardly met.
So he waited.
And he waited longer.
Until one day, after all the hopeless waits he decided to let her out of his mind.

But then she came back.
She recognizes him.
She called him by name.
They talked like an old friend.
They laughed like best friends.
And some people even think that they got together.

He knows in that instant that they will never part.

But he was wrong.

Despite her physical presence, her heart belongs to somewhere he can never reach.
So he tried to win it back.
But sadly it never went towards his direction.

He was not convinced.
He gave it another try.
Harder this time. And even more deeply he tried to go, into understanding the depth of her heart and yet what he found was nothing but a saddening truth.

Her heart had gone too far.

And to make it worst, it had found its resting place.
And it had lies itself comfortably in the heart of another man.

Broken and tired his heart rested behind his fatigue ribs.
The man’s breath took its turn to function, making him to breathe faster than he should.
Soon, the man found himself gasping as tears rolled down his cheeks.

From the distance, he looked at her.
The woman who broke his heart, but surprisingly, despite the hurtful event, he has not the heart to hate her.
He loved her too much to hate her.

So he decided to keep his love to himself.

Unfortunately his love continues to stir in its place.
Seeking for a challenge.
Looking for a competition.

The man tried to brush it aside and focus all his attention to the other girl whom he had met two years later.

Unfortunately, she was nothing like that girl.
Not even in the shades of her hair or a tint of her characters.
Then he began to battle with himself.
He knows his love still longs for that girl.
His heart still skips its beats for her.

In the end, he did the unthinkable.

Though his brain permits him to say, his heart and his tongue push the words forward to the tip of his tongue and soon to the centre of his lip. Making him to say the words he had almost forgotten how to say the day he decided to keep his love to himself.

“I love you.” He said for the seventh time (if he did not remember wrongly) when they met again one day.

The girl looked at him shocked before she changed her gaze with tenderness.
She smiled a gentle smile.

“Thank you.” She replied gently.

He looked at her without moving a muscle. “I really love you.” He continued.

Another smile.

“I love you very much.” He suggested.

The girl smiled and shrugged. “Thank you. But I can’t.” she said slowly.

“Why?” he demanded.

“You know the reason why.” she replied gently, cautiously.

He looked at her speechless.
“Look, I really thank you for loving me and I’m sorry, I ca…” before she could finish, he pulled her to his side and sealed her lip with his kiss.

He does not want her to continue.
He knows the reason.
Of course he does. And it makes the more reason why he does not want her to remind him with that fact on his face.

He pressed his lip closer, she feels so good that he does not want to let her go.
He pulled her in.
And soon, he found his hands holding onto her back and down to her waist as he pulled her even closer to him.
She tried to set herself free off his arms.

“Please…” she pleaded.
He grabbed her face and stared into her frightened eyes.
“Please…” she pleaded pushing him away.

He releases his fingers from her pale face.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered. “Are you okay?’ he asked trying to brush a hair from her face. She responded quickly with a hand “I can do it myself.” She said moving away from him.

She walked away from him without turning back.
In her rush she had forgotten to take her bag with her.
“Wait!” he called out rushing for her.
She pretended she did not hear him and quickened her pace.
“Fiona wait up!” he called out running faster. Then when she did not stop, he rushed forward and stood in front of her.

“What do you want from me?” Fiona asked irritated.
The man looked at her angered expression.
He was ashamed of himself.
“I’m sorry.” He apologized again.

She let out an exasperated sigh. “You are attached aren’t you?’ she asked licking her dried lips.
“Aren’t you?” She asked when he didn’t say a word.

He nodded.

“Then what’s that for?”
He could not give her an answer.
“What happen to you?” She asked then finding that there’s no reason for her to stay, she took her bag from him and began to walk away.

“I love you!” he shouted behind her. “I just want you to know that I love you. Even all these while, I still love you.”
“Do you ever think about what your girlfriend is gonna think if she knows that you are saying all these to me?” she asked screaming at him. “You are horrible, Darren.”
“Then tell me what can I do to forget about you?”
She stared at him speechless.

Then after a moment’s thought, “don’t ever look for me again.” She said coldly.

There was a tremble in her voice when she said those words.

She didn’t mean to hurt him but maybe it is for the better.

He stood motionless as she walked with her hands clutching tightly to her bag.
He waited for her turn around.
She didn’t.
He waited a little more.
But still she continued to walk forward.
Dejected and hurtful, he began to move his numb feet, still with his eyes fix on her back.

Then as his eyes went into a blur, he turned his back to where she was walking and began to walk.


In a distance she turned, walking back a little to the place she had just left a few minutes ago.
She stared as his figure moved slowly, lifelessly.
She raised a finger to her lip to prevent herself from making a sound that will make him turned back to see her.
And then in the middle of the rain that had poured as if it knows what had happened between them and let out its natural cry, she collapses on the ground and cried.

In between her tears she tried to search a glimpse of him which has become a thin line among the crowds and wished with all her heart that he will be alright.


Yuliana :)
16/Jan/2011

Closer (A letter to God)

Dear God,

It's been glad to know that when it gets harder, the closer we get together.
In fact, I've neer been more than happy to know that even in my weaknesses I am able to continue to worship You, to praise your name and to let well, probably...let my light shine before men.

It's been a great joy to know that my prayers been answered.
And with thanksgiving attitude, I am allowed to be rewarded with more blessings which make me stand in awe of You.

Furthermore, to know You are always there.
To watch my every step, to bless me with friends and colleague and seniors
And most of all...to let me experience what it means to interact, to solve problem, well...sometimes, things may not be perfect, but I'm glad that You've make me glad with the presence of everyone who is there to cheer me up.  :)

Thank You Lord.

Indeed, You are Worthy of Worship.
And that allow me to feel what it means to raise my voice up to that level, whereby, although it may be pretty hard to reach, but eventually, I am able to make it. :)

But all in all, I'm glad to know that despite the busy schedule, despite hectic hours, despite the fatigue and tiresome, we are getting closer day by day. :) And this by far is the best thing ever of all the experiences that I received.

Thank You Lord.

Yours Faithfully,
Yuliana :)

Water for Elephant

Circus.
Tents.
Perfomers.
Managerie.
Working Men.
Magenta.
Animal.
Elephant.
Sequin.
Marlena.
Jacob Jankowski.

These are some of the common words, and characters found in the book, Water for Elephant. A story filled with, passion, determination, kindness, thrill and forbidden love.

It was a story about a boy who after running away from his examination hall, found himself landing into one of the rarest train in town, as it is none other than, the Benzini Brother's most Spectacular Show Circus Train; and, desperate for a job and shelter, Jacob decided to remain in the train despite some of the 'political' thing that happened in the train, until he found the one thing that made his stay even more worthwhile--- The beautiful Marlena.

So what happened in the end when he found out that Marlena is married to one of the most vicious man on the train?
Well read on and find out more. :)


I should say that this is one of the most beautiful love story I've ever read so far. (Probably, after Ps. I Love You, Cecilia Ahern) And unlike the usual setting of two people meeting in town/ friends party/ high school etc. this one the setting takes place mostly on the train. And despite the fact that the story is about this two person, Jacob and Marlena, but the other characters and depiction is a must to read as well.

Description such as how working men struggles to set the tents up/ how Jacob and Kinko tries to hide the almost redlighted Camel behind the cot of their trunk etc. allows me to feel how difficult it is to survive in the circus, even though when it comes to performance, the whole things seems so beautiful and breathtaking. (perfomers in their sunday best, animals well groomed and trained, ready to act, excited crowds gathering around for the best seats.)

For a while I feel as if I've been to the circus, when the truth is--I've not.

Anyway, whatever it is, Sarah Gruen really did a great job in creating the whole 'lay out' of the setting and the era of that time. And I dare say that this is the first time I feel so worth it to be fined by the library, because the book is just so good that I just can't dumped it to the book drop before I read The End of it.

L&P
Yuliana :)

Home

"How long are you staying in Indonesia?...So GOOD!"
"I can't wait to go back."
"So good, you are able to go back...Home"

Above are some of the responses I got from fellow Indonesian friends (who are living in Singapore) when they learnt that I will be going home for one solid week previously.
I was a little puzzled actually to the way they responded, and I wondered why was it such a big deal for them when they learnt that I am going home.

My enquiries were answered one night when I was making my way back home with another Indonesian friend of mine who had just came to Singapore for a few months.
Unlike me who is fortunate enough to have my whole family living under one roof here in Singapore, these people has none. And the idea of going back home for them is just as thrilling as meeting their loved ones.

Home.
How often do we think aout how valuable it is to us?

Maybe just like me, who are always surrounded by my loved ones, we never realized how important it is to be at home.
But the feeling is different when it comes to those who are living alone in a foreign country, and it is no wonder why, when I said I am going back to Indonesia, all of them were looking at me with 'envy'.

But thanks to that, it allows me to comprehend what it means to be home.
Apart from that, it also enables me to understand why some Indonesians always say that living in Singapore is "not nice".
Or why some old people always prefers to die at home then in the hospital, because hospital is 'not nice'.

Well, maybe the idea of 'not nice' here is not that they dislike the country/the place they are stationed, no. Because those Indonesians living in Singapore that I talked to actually like the facilities and living condition here.
Or the old people, who were asked why they keep wanting to go home, when here in the hospital they will have nurses and doctors to attend to them twenty-seven.

But the reason why they said that is because, it is 'unplesant' to be alone.
It is 'uncomfortable' to be living in a place so alien to you with no one you love by your side.

It is no wonder why in his song, Michael Bubble repeat the words : "Let me go home" so many times and with such emotion that perhaps only a person who has been far away from home can understand.

From this experience, I also learnt about what it means to be independent-courageous-determine-willing as you continue to live your life here in this foreign land even when you feel like "I want to go home." despite being surrounded by a million people.

Fortunately, the good news is, just like how Bubble ended his song by saying "It'll all be alright, I'll be home tonight, I'm coming back home."  all of you my friends who have been living 'alone' all these while and have been looking forward to go home, will be making your way home soon too. :)

And though its a little pity that we could not spend Christmas together and it's a little too early for me to say
this, but I really wish that wherever you are, all of you out there are going to have a Blessed Merry Christmas out there :)


Love and Peace,
Yuliana :)

ps. YF-ers SEMANGAT!