Thursday, July 21, 2016

Remnant of Yesterdays


Parts of Dungun coastal line are slowly pushed inland by ferocious sea as days gone by. They took them away, leaving a little behind. We hardly see spinifex grass nowadays, the thorny vegetation that steals the look of sea urchin, which once detached, would roll along the sandy dunes for children to chase after. That alarms nearby crabs to scurry themselves sideways into their holes until they hear footsteps' pitter-patter fade away behind the rough note of roaring waves surging towards the sodden footprints. In December, the sea gets its full power from the moon, and becomes so short tempered that it always wants to go against the land in full force, destroying everything within its reach. The severely destroyed seaside road along Teluk Lipat beach once became the shameful evidence of land's (and the human's too) defeat in the worst war of nature in modern Dungun history, now that children can no more chasing after spinifex grass and annoy crabs' daily business. Local authority has placed concrete structures that supposedly fix the destroyed area. We cannot foresee the future of our beach as the sea has a mind of its own. Many Decembers past, it has probably become better at adapting to the changes, and the concrete waves breaker are only shooing the waves away to other area instead. What left now as the remnant of yesterdays are short beach line of Sura Tengah and its next door neighbour, Sura Hujung that holds the door to the realm of elves and jungle spirit of eerie Bukit Bauk. Recently in July, I stopped by Sura Tengah beach in one Dungun afternoon, only to look at the calm sea and speak with it and the mind wondered when this beauty will last, before I could bring along my beautiful missus in her sheer cotton t-shirt and kain batik jawa.

12 comments:

  1. Dear Pok Deng, I saw your blog as I passed through Kak Teh's. Decided to check it out and promptly fell into this wonderful rabbit hole of old fashioned eloquence and rhythm. You write like an old soul, Pok Deng. Thank you for such delight.

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    1. Dear Ma'am,

      Thank you for your compliment. Hope you read my old posts. And you write good stuff too!

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  2. Dear Pok Deng, I can't wait for the weekend to come by to read the rest of your blog. It's hard to find blogs with salt of the earth kind of stories like yours these days. I hope that you will continue writing for a long time. Regards.

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  3. 2 years in Sura Tengah before moving out to the Middle East. Probably one of the best chapters in my life.

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  4. 2 years in Sura Tengah before moving out to the Middle East. Probably one of the best chapters in my life.

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    1. I wonder, does Liam enjoy khepok lekor?

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    2. Never brought him any kepok before, but I bet he loves it. Did I tell somewhere in the blog that he's here as well in the Middle East, working 15km away from me?

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  5. I know it's cliche; you both can gaze at the same moon at the same time.

    Maybe not near the oil rig where the stars are too shy to show themselves. Probably somewhere in the middle of a desert, accompanied by local Bedouins who are now probably boiling water at a bonfire for making chai while the camels laying their belly on the warm sand, and you over there lying your back on a piece of Arab rug, occasionally brushing grits off your hair. I wonder how the desert's night air smells like? Is is like burning metal, or is it like rotten wood? I don't know. Does Liam know you are in the desert thinking about him?

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    1. Where is the 'like' button when you need it the most?
      He knows I'm here, we exchanged looks once or twice during some boring gatherings, but that was all - a quick look - and we pretended we didn't know each other.

      There was a time that I had a thought that maybe Liam and I were destined to be together. I stopped making any contact with him a year or two before I moved to the Middle East, and yet, fate brought us here together.

      Can I say that I miss him? No. But Liam makes a good story. He will linger in my blog space for a while.

      Anyway, Middle East smells like Dungun. And it smells like Cameron Highland in winter.

      :)

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    2. Haven't figured out to put a 'like' button at the bottom of my post.

      Probably it was like physiological response stimulated by the G-force when a fighter jet takes a sudden turn -- when you have a glimpse of a person you know so well in a crowded place. Must have been his stubble that reminded you of the colourful past, I suppose. Must have been so heavy your feet were to walk over to him to say hi. Must have been fire at the pit your belly too.

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    3. Nope. There was no fire. I had only what Ganu people call 'luga'.

      Lol. Happy Friday Pokdeng

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