Gold

It's my graduation, earlier today.

Later tonight, I had my Flickr account reactivated, and thus stumbled upon old photos, mostly dating from the year 2007 up til 2009.

It's 2011, now. All that I came out from my mouth as I went through the photos was just, wow.

We have come a long way. A way so long, even three years ago seem so far away. So many changes have happened, so many paths took different destinations. For many of us in those photographs, it's a new life now, with a new beginning. In the midst of the angst, we're hopeful.

I miss those moments. And, let's move on.

Congratulations, friends.

XVI

Just one of the nights that I feel distant.

Why is it so hard to come out with a full set of writing, nowadays? Or is this full enough?

Nocturnal: I

I will miss you forever, and ever, Jerusalem.

Ambiguous

I must say, I don't have the keen interest all built up for Hari Raya this year. When I say this, this term, I must meant the hype and the chaos, puns intended, surrounding it. The very essence of Hari Raya is, of course, untouchable, unchangeable, and it is the essence that is the only part that I hold respectful, and meaningful -- but not the whole euphoria.

I might be accused for being unorthodox, but then I'm always accused of all things. People who ask 'why--?' over this matter, or over my opinions on other matters similar, for me are unsurprising. My stand is this, and it is simple: I don't believe in things I don't understand. Be it understood, or will be understood -- it won't matter: as long as it is not comprehendible, then it is.

I did say, however, that I do appreciate the core element of the whole celebration. Yes, I do, and why not? Love, victory, happiness: who would ignore these, replace these for anything? It is the clumsy celebration that I'm against, and I wish to skip. Victory is not for those who didn't fight, love is not for those who didn't love, and happiness, is still expensive.

Label me with all labels you want, call me heretical, grim. But of this I am sure: sweetness can't be differentiated without the sour.

11 months to go until the next Ramadan.

To:

It's my last day in Makkah, today. The feeling is.. static, contemplative, nowhere at the zenith of feelings. However this, I must say: We are beautiful, and it's amazing how we can go on and live without realising that, in fact, believing in quite the opposite. We are beautiful, and we're living in beauty, though some might argue, it's not everlasting.

I'm set for Amman later today and Jerusalem tomorrow. Wish us a safe entry into the Palestinian Territories. And Selamat Hari Raya.

It was a Ramadan to be missed, dearly.

Bracket G

It's hard when you have secrets that you yourself forgot.

It's hard, and it's scary.

Mirror

They say, sketches are often reflections of ourselves.

What if, the sketches are a part of us,
the part that has been taken away, often for the good, often for the world to see and appreciate?

Schaulager, by Herzog & de Meuron, Basel, Switzerland; June 2010. Charcoal on paper.

Textures & Details: Solo

Once a mighty Javanese empire, the Sultanate of Mataram was divided by their colonial masters -- the Dutch -- giving birth to two smaller monarchies. One; Yogyakarta, strived and struggled to be mighty: loud in modern Indonesian politics, having acquiring the special region status, thus strong in influence and power. The other, Surakarta -- or Solo -- took a much silent path, from perhaps a regrettable past, into a possible future.

Solo seems untouched, unlike its much popular and favoured bigger sister, Yogyakarta. Both cities are related, and in many sense, close neighbours. And both are at the beating heart of the Javanese culture, nestled in the middle of the densely-populated Java, going about their lives while being concentrated to the main node: the important institution of the kraton. Intricate, gentle, subtle, exquisite: these make up the details and textures of the fine characteristics of the Javanese cultural context, and of course, the content.

With Solo, things go closer to authentic.

Afternoon walk.

Motorists pass by the roads penetrating through the compound of the kraton, namely the Kraton Surakarta Hadiningrat, the seat of the Javanese monarchy now headed by Pakubuwono XIII.


One of the gates leading to the alleys serving the houses, usually belonging to the servants and workers of the kraton.

A statue of Hanuman, a prominent monkey figure in Hindu-Buddha folklore, stands guarding one of the gates of the palace compounds.

One of the prominent blue doors of the alleyways, locally known as gang.

Youngsters take a walk in the southern alun-alun, a public square, within the kraton compounds. Successfully crossing the two banyan trees blindfolded, as legends told, signifies a pure heart.

Mobile food vendor selling bakso bakar, grilled meatballs -- a dish famous throughout Indonesia.

Transport. Income. Shelter.

On a journey to freedom.

Photos are from January - February trip to Java, Indonesia.