Be My Guest!

this entree is written by my guest writer. read here to know why he has to write an entree for me. and he goes by the name PutraSyah. Thanks for the entree. its a good one too! hehe.. so keep on writing ya... =) wokeh, enjoy the entree...while i go and make my morning coffee... =)

[Untitled]
By: Putrasyah

I would like to start this page by saying “I am so sorry… Terribly sorry” to the owner of this blogsite. We made a bet about a month ago, and I had promised her that I would post my story by July 1st. I am terrible in keeping promises. My life is full of unexpected things or events. Sometimes, I feel afraid to make promises. Afraid I would break them. But what I fear most is: losing other people’s trust in me. So Eqin… Here’s my story to you. I hope you’ll like it.

Sitting on my bed, I was asked to write a story to be posted on this blog website. Where to begin? Personally, I can’t contain the variety of feelings losing to Germany which all should be treasured as unique jewels. So, with a computer on my lap, a glass of Dr. Siemer’s Multivitamin Nectar in a wine glass, and the stereo playing Siti Nurhaliza’s CD, the writing begins.

Earlier this morning, I woke up and rush into the bathroom. Nothing else in my mind except for the football games and … Bruxelles! Yeah, that’s right! Me and my family are going to Bruxelles, België. Just another short family getaway. At first, I thought Bruxelles is just another typical “European City”. But I was mistaken. There is something about Bruxelles which makes it different, in a good sense off course, than any other European cities which I have been. The buildings are well organized and their antique architectures are well preserved. No wonder Bruxelles is the European Capital.

However, by concurring the bet between me and Eqin, I’ve ambitiously tried to slay a dragon. Whether with mountains of prayers, or long hours of screaming and cheering for Sweden, the Germans would have still made it to quarter final.

Losing Sweden over Germany means a little to me since I am not such a big fans of Sweden. The only reason I wanted this yellow-blue team to enter quarter final is because they are the only Scandinavian country that qualified to the second round.

After diving into the deep end of the first round which filled with “fishes” of men, the Swedish are still breathing. While they started “swimming” against the current – the obstacles or barriers – hopefully they’re now swimming with it. The first round has passed. It has made them somehow stronger, solid and full of confidence.

Cheering and screaming at the top my lungs are only devoted to the “Oranje”. The Orange. They have played the game magnificently for the first round. Edwin Van Der Sar, Robin Van Persie, Arjen Robben, Ruud Van Nistelrooij, Giovanni Van Bronckhorst, Mark Van Bommel, and Wesley Sneijder – YOU ARE MY HEROES. I remembered the spokesman on TV said the other day, “Today the sky is Orange” for the game between Netherlands and Ivory Coast. I like the sound of it. Seeing half of the stadium in orange with the aid of sun shining down on them make them somehow seems countless. I thought to myself, the sun is on our side. The sun too was cheering for our victory. Hope she will keep on shining the shine of our glory to remind the world of our victory.

With seven points in hand, we proceeded to the second round. This time we will fight against Portugal. Before the game started, I looked outside my bedroom window. It was still raining. It has been raining since early this morning. I thought of the sun. Wondering where she might have gone to. Is she lost somewhere in the abundance of clouds? I prayed for her presence. Prayed that she would be here and shine that glory of ours. And she did. But, it was not long. She stops shining today. The sun does not want to stay. She closes herself behind the grey clouds. Somehow she betrays us. She betrays me. Maybe she has her own reason not to cheer for us. Maybe she is sick today and needed a rest. Maybe she felt betrayed. Why? Is it because her favorite player Ruud Van Nistelrooij was not on the game? Maybe the sun felt betrayed since the team dressed in cloud-and-sky outfit today. Maybe…just maybe. Whatever the reason, she must know that we will always be orange. No matter what color we reflected.

Time forces the game to make choices, which defined them as two groups we now known as losers and gainers. The ones that proceed to quarter finals, while the other packed up their bags and took the first flight back to their homeland. Standing once again on the soil of their ancestors. That’s the nature of the world. The Ying Yang. Some part of the world would call it karma. Like the one in Alicia Keys’ song“…What goes around comes around, what goes up must come down…” These are inseparable nevertheless what actions are taken. Every action has its consequences. Even GWB knows that!

Finally, when the referee blows his whistle, the game was officially ended. The “purple fishes” were moving ups and downs forming wave-like scenery. I felt like screaming and tearing me from this place, from the fact that Holland had just lost to Portugal, rise up like gases from a soda can and float away. Mix into this chill summer night and dissolve somewhere high where nobody could trace me. But, that was me being Ally McBeal. The truth is: my legs are still bound to the ground. There won’t be any floating away. There will not be any miracle tonight.

I pressed the palms of my both hands on my face with hope that it was just a dream. Just another dream that plays around in my head. Soon, I will wake up and start my daily routine. I was wrong. It wasn’t a dream. I open my eyes again and I know what I need: a hot shower.

After a long hot shower, I got myself prepared for the bed. As I lay in bed, switching off the side lamp, I look out through my bedroom window. It’s the same window which I have waited for the sun to show up. The night was starless. I hardly saw any stars that night. All the images about missing the goals when there were chances keep “popping” in my head. There was silence. No other sounds my ears could have traced other than the sound of my own breath. The night and the stars somehow mourn on our lost to Portugal. Lost our only ticket to the quarter final. Tonight, the whole Netherlands sleeps in silence. The mourning state has just initiated!

When I woke up the next day, the stereo was turned off. I looked around to see if there was anybody in my room. Perhaps my mother could have been here earlier. I rolled over to my right and I saw a slice of sky was peeking through the curtains of my window. I wondered whether today will be better than yesterday. I got up and headed directly to the bathroom. Doing like most men would do every morning – p**, brush teeth, wash face and fix hair from “out-of-bed” look to “drop-dead-gorgeous” look. Starting a new day with a new history just marked last night: Holland lost to Portugal in Second Round. Huhu…!!!

I went to Amstelveen Centrum later that day. As I passed through the hallway in “de Bijenkorf” I saw the Oranje decorations were still hanging on trees, the dummy still wearing an orange shirt written “Hup..! HOLLAND Hup..!!”, and a lot of other Oranje Merchandise were still on for sale. “Poor Holland… Poor Holland…” was all I could say. The sun was still hidden and the sky remains grey. It supposed to be summer at this moment. Everybody could have show off with their fancy summer dress, tops or bottoms, gone for picnic in the park, or sun bathing on the beach while playing volleyball topless – but yet… everybody was still wearing their long coats, or heavy and thick jackets. Summer has always been my favorite time of the year. That’s why I love staying in Malaysia during winter. Malaysia is like a Summerland to me.

I left Holland to Malaysia on 28th of June 2006. I felt kinda strange that day. I felt like I’ve left something. When I checked back my list, everything is with me. Later, I know what that feeling was. I’m gonna miss Holland. Misses the people I’ve known, misses my room in the attic, misses the way the Dutches speak, misses the smell and the taste of Döner in Museumplein, misses cycling around in Amstelveen (and got lost) alone, misses my favourite creek which I name it “San Kong Creek” near the Rathuis in Amstelveen and everything that has been part of my life in Holland. I don’t know when will my next time I shall step my foot on the Dutch’s soil ever again.

[1,496 words]