A familiar stranger

I have been feeling a little melancholy these past few days. Perhaps age is catching up with me unannounced. Or perhaps it is simply the sudden realization of it. But was it really sudden?

Maybe I have sensed it all along—quietly lingering at the edges of consciousness, teasing me each time I stand before a mirror, or whenever someone calls me aunty.

Can one truly sense oneself growing old? Many people I know claim they never noticed it happening. I am one of them. There seems to be a curious tension between physical awareness and subconscious denial. The body leaves its small reminders, yet the mind continues to inhabit an earlier version of itself, refusing to fully acknowledge the passage of time.

The body leaves its quiet clues, but the mind remains stubbornly unchanged. Perhaps that is the strange thing about ageing: it happens in plain sight, yet somehow escapes our notice until one day we catch a glimpse of it reflected back at us. Not as a shock, but as a familiar stranger we have been meeting all along.

I remember Lebui, Silly Man of Kayan Lung

(A Memory of Storytelling on the Awa)

Te' nah Lebui, says Mok Ya,

Her eyes glowing,

Was it with glee?

O Lebui!

That silly man of Kayan lung.

Children sat enchanted,

As the evening skies bore witness,

On the verandah-awa,

Where memories softly linger,

O Lebui, that naivety of a man!

As far as that river goes,

Lebui and his silly lore,

Mok Ya voice lingers,

Though many years have passed,

A time when she told the story,

of Lebui, that silly man of Kayan lung.

Wan, R (May 26, 2026)

Horizon

Liyana, Tuscan 2025

                                   

I stood at the horizon of life’s turning,

Searching the distance for where my path may cease.

Behind me lie roads of unspoken stories,

Their echoes painting the colors of memory.

Ahead, the valleys open like pages,

Unwritten, waiting for footsteps and dreams.

                                                                                                                Wan, R (Oct 12, 2025)

 

Piasau Boat Club, Miri 2024

Reminiscing, Tuscan Oct 2025

                                                 

The color of hope

Maybe in heaven

this hollow that haunts her yesterdays

is only the ache of desires left undone.

(Where are your promises?) 

Like velvet kisses, 

brushed on soft skin, 

lingering, caressing. 

Like spring’s first blossoms after the long cold of winter, 

do they rise from dreams? 

Twinges of pain, 

the quiet shade of hope, 

become her only faithful friend. 

Maybe, in heaven, 

not here. 

(Wan, R., Aug 2025 Chatgpt edit from Wan, R., May 26, 2020)

Tekna' Aren Jok

This is one of my favorite tekna' sung by Mo' Aren (Aren Jok). This, and other tekna' songs are available at my Kayanlanguage website here https://kayanlanguage.wixsite.com/kayan/audio

Ku coba ungkap tabir ini Kisah antara kau dan aku Terpisahkan oleh ruang dan waktu Menyudutkanmu meninggalkanku Ku merasa tlah kehilangan Cintamu yang tlah lama hilang Kau pergi jauh karena salahku Yang tak pernah menganggap kamu ada Asmara memisahkan kita Mengingatkanku pada dirimu Gelora mengingatkanku Bahwa cintamu tlah merasuk jantungku Sejujurnya ku tak bisa Hidup tanpa ada kamu aku gila Seandainya kamu bisa Mengulang kembali lagi cinta kita Takkan ku sia-siakan kamu lagi Asmara memisahkan kita Mengingatkanku pada dirimu Gelora mengingatkanku Bahwa cintamu tlah merasuk jantungku Sejujurnya ku tak bisa Hidup tanpa ada kamu aku gila Seandainya kamu bisa Mengulang kembali lagi cinta kita Sejujurnya ku tak bisa Hidup tanpa ada kamu aku gila Takkan ku sia-siakan kamu lagi. (2x)

Let me lay here

Let me lay,

Here amongst the grass,

Emerald dews water me,

let me grow as wild.

Your softness calms me,

Your strength inspires me,

And amongst strangers,

As I hold my tears tight,

Your loyalty to me

Give me respite.

(Wan, R. 2022)

Stay curious

 

💕💗

Do not grow old,

no matter how long you live.

Never cease,

to stand like curious children,

before the Great Mystery

to which we were born.

(Albert Einstein, 1879-1955)

                    💗💕                                                                         

Melancholy

There's this aching inside me

From where all the years roll back memories

They weren't kind, nor were they cruel

Just fragments of time, poignant and full.

Looking pensively at the sky

wherefore the meaning of all those years gone by

care I remember them lest they disappear or fade

into clouds of blue ambers, softly unmade.

(Wan, R. 2024)

Friday, December 6, 2024

2024

I did not want (to go into) the new year

Afraid all the unfinished dreams,

Will again, knock

on my heart's door.

Would it be fair, I asked

That, the reminders of yesteryears' sorrow,

are the unwelcome guests,

That, I sadly can't deny.

Let my feet take speed,

Let they never waver,

Let their path be set.

(Wan, R. 2024)

Rephrase by ChatGPT :)

I hesitated to step into the new year, Fearing that all the dreams left undone Would once more come knocking At the door of my heart.

I wondered if it was fair, That the reminders of past sorrows Remain as unwelcome guests, Whom I sadly cannot dismiss.

May my feet quicken their pace, May they never falter.

Hope

Can she find peace

In the little things

Morning till dawn

Flickering hope disappears.

She will not surrender 

Into the depth of her despair

Like the rustle of night wind

Her face ruptures in joy.

Hope will lead her home

To fields of glitter

Her arms open to receive 

Her agony no more!

(Wan, R. 2023)

Time lapse

The past sometimes is

Like a lost summer breeze,

Seductive in its abyss, yet

It is in that moment,

When the mind colludes with blank spaces

Ripping through the hollow of yesteryear

- Wherefore??

 

How many years have passed? I

struggle to remember a time in my youth,

Traversing paddy mountains

Greeting elders toiling on days end,

Planting for their children and their children children,

A future stretching beyond,

in as far as the eyes can see

in as far as the river flows.

 

I remember the beat of hope,

I had carried them over these mountains,

I hear them as lingering memories,

Over this field, that valley of flowing rivers,

Stringing mine to those of my ancestors of yore.

 

Children stomped this valley aplenty

They roamed free, carelessly

Through jungle path thick with hopes,

The forest schooled them,

Their little feet hurried, 

Their gaze to the sky that shelters them,

Far ahead was their destiny.

Through these valleys,

Within these mountains,

Memories are kept alive,

Hopes planted

For one day the children will return,

To trod again the path that led them 

there, and here

Because this now and then,

Belong to them,

Only for them.

Time passes.

(Wan, R. 2023)

A reward for patience

 November 24, 2022

This should be a day worth noting. 

I don't particularly want to talk about politics, but today is the day when the 10th Prime Minister of Malaysia was endorsed by the YDPA. 

Is it a great day?

Will it be a new beginning?

Is it a destiny?

or a calamity?

 

I will come back in 5 years' time.

for now, let the mist of hope caresses tired skins

wrinkled in their wait.

let them soak,

in wake of prolonged promises.

a new dawn they say,

let their hearts soar in songs,

for the sounds of mirth,

heard over a million whispers,

is their reward for patience.

 

unrelated picture, but this is a great dish to remember by :)

 

The moon is above me

For how long does it bears me down

    These rings of doubt,

    That I wear ever so divine?

Like subtle breeze over cold mornings

    Nah! my tears are not of despair,

My yesterdays are never my present

The future is certain,

    as certain as the moon is above me,

    as certain as the moon is above me! 

(Wan, R. 2022)

 

 

 

 

 

                       

 

     

     

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

me you

 One day in a far distant future

i will look back

at these circles of moments that weaved my past

a destiny imprinted over sands of time.

 

in this dry hollow night

i whisper silent promises

a vow to keep

to my future self (in that far distant future):

I'll be the morning breeze

free

to roam

the circumference of the earth,

I'll be curious

to taste

the flavor of love and deception.

I'll be brave

to feel joy,

I'll be ready

to suffer pain.

For, neither is joy for the fainthearted

nor pain for those who can endure.

here now, a wish for that version of me (in that faraway future),

i hope you will look back kindly

i have tried to live you well

i had not known any other way

But fate had thrown me you,

i didn't know any other,

so i lived you and me

.

Wan, R (2021, 13/11/2021)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Melancholy

When her time comes

should it come,

you'll hear it chimes in a far distance 

a melancholy,

an ache that persists

her wanderings.

For many a time has

she looked up at the sky,

yearning

if such whispers of a heart

her heart,

would ruse

the stars to shine

sometime, only for her.

When her time comes,

Should it come,

You'll hear 

it rustles in the wind:

The tenderness of pain,

The caress of regrets,

The sweetness of longings.

She would be the better

for she knows the path,

only she alone

can shield her

heart.

(Wan, R., 2021)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

if i run

do i run fast enough?

should i

run?

for many have walked

a similar path

their steps never falter

where mine might.

yet this destiny,

a desire

undefined

is somewhere out there

perhaps,

if i run

fast enough

this destiny

will wait. 

(Wan, R. 01012021)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It didn't, in fact, finished today. The corrections were all done in May, but it went through some internal processes that took a while to get through. Also, because of the movement control order with the Covid-19 situation, a lot of adjustment works were fighting for my attention. The corrections were just among layers of numerous things that demand time and space each day.

I learnt over time, that patience is the most reliable friend. One couldn't hope things to fall into place just by wishing it. Or just for praying hard for it.

It needs works. Focus. Sacrifice.

Hence, every day, a little bit each time. Not a whole paragraph. Sometimes, just a sentence. Or just a thought, think things through.

When one is patient, one gets the works done.

After almost 7 years, I know.

PhD
January 2014 - June 2020.

Maybe in heaven

this hallow that visits her yesterdays,
are like the throes of unfulfilled desires.
(wherefore thou promises?)
like the color of velvet kisses,
on soft skin
caressing.

like spring seasons,
of cold winter;
do they blossom from dreams.

twinges of pain,
like the color of hope,
will be her trusted friend.
Maybe,
in heaven,
not here.

(Wan, R. May 26, 2020)


 

For how long will she sits?

And there she sat
A battered soul of a thousand tears
Alone
Her heart beating upon the emptiness that engulfs her

Yet there she still sat
She yearned those distant memories
Her innocence lost
Rolled in years of forgotten dreams

For how long
Will she would have sat
There
All alone?

Wan, R (2020)