New

I do not know if this is a comeback. Curve balls were not thrown. How could there be a comeback home run?


I used to be in a room. Sealed. Completely separated away from other colleagues. Some people may call it as an asylum. I call it paradise. No office gossips. No one talking about what to cook this evening. Or whether should they try the new recipe they read in a magazine last night. No eyes watching.


It was only the air conditioner. The random subject we laugh about with my supervisor and partner. Well, there is of course the repetition of Sinatra's My Way ringing in the background.


Now it's a whole new world. Open cubicles. Few divisions in one non bordered area. Superior to my right. The big boss gunning from behind that small little window. It makes me paranoid.


At home, a newborn has arrived. Let's call him Baby G. The cuter smaller version of my younger brother. The same headshape. The same temper. The only thing that I am grateful is he didn't inherit his father's thunderous voice. All he knows now is his feeding time. He doesn't get it on time, he will start pulling his pacifier and let the world know that he wants to eat.


That moment alone, reminds me of Yunus, who gets hungry in every clubbing nights we had together. He definitely let the world know about that.


"Aku lapar!"


It's scary even now that the familiar voice rings in my head. And I thought Hungry Ghost Festival just went by without warning.