Terfaktab

Bila manusia mahu menjadi Tuhan, Segala apa yang tidak disukai dijatuhkan hukuman. Rupa paras bukankah satu kurnia? Mengubahnya dengan sengaja bukankah mengundang dosa? Bila melihatkan orang menilai manusia lain dengan bangsa, agama --- seringkali terfikir, apakah dalam hidup mereka, mereka sendiri tidak pernah dinilai sedemikian rupa. Adakah dengan membezakan setiap orang dan mengganggap mereka semua adalah jahat, itu menjadikan hidup anda lebih baik? Entahlah. Padahal benda begini sudah dipupuk sejak dari kecil. Kita diajar melayan setiap orang sama rata, tidak mengira siapa pun mereka. Apa latar belakang mereka dan sebagainya. Adakah kalau kita sakit dan pergi ke pusat perubatan yang di mana pengamal perubatannya tidak sama bangsa dan agama dengan kita, kita akan dihalau pergi begitu sahaja? Sesuatu untuk difikirkan barangkali. Begitu juga dengan orang yang melihat warna kulit, saiz tubuh badan dengan pandangan hina dan mengagungkan warna...

It was silent. Well, the mamak was noisy, as always; but the two of us were silent. It is the aftermath, the day after the election. After staying up late counting votes and waking up even later than usual, this is all they could muster-a silent lunch date in a mamak halfway from both homes. A compromise of sort. “Mau apa cik?” Asked the waitress. “Megi goreng.” Said he. Damn, I wanted that first! “Megi goreng too.” I mimicked. The waitress smiled and repeated the order. “Megi goreng dua. Ok.” And between the long silence of waiting for the food, we started talking. “So they won.” He said. “But lose some hot seats.” I repeated. “How’s your place?” He asked. “The YB I voted won. How’s yours?” “Lost. But, heh...I guess I'm alright." Silent again. The month started normally. Until the election date was announced that is. And slowly, little by little, our talks of movies and dates and future plans began to drown under the jargon of political science. As the days ...

A long time ago, in a place far away, there lived a troll. He is small, hunched and dark as a deathly night. His eyes are piercing, his brows are forever frowning, and he has a face that made white knights crinkle their noses in disgust. He speaks rarely; but when it does his voice seeps like a poison, hateful and unrelenting. He was never particularly sad, nor was he particularly happy. It’s just that maybe misery was his best friend and happiness is his best enemy. It is both source of entertainment for him and also source of despair. Companions? He had few, or none at all. He despises company, mistrusts friendship. Whosoever extends their arms, even so slightly, would get a bite back from the ferocious troll. He guarded the old bridge in the huge, enchanted forest; and whoever pass by that tickles his fancy—looked either weak or gullible, he will attack mercilessly, ruthlessly until they ran home, tails tucked between their legs. From the innocent little children to the ch...