i am of the old school. the school of the black hearts and boyish camaraderie.
to me, harakah is more than just about publishing newspapers and books, providing jobs, making money, scoring political points and so on, so forth. she, more importantly, is about living and institutionalizing the ideals of humankind.
as of now, i think, harakah has lost her way, and i am not in the position to effectively help her retrace her steps. by resigning, i hope that harakah will find somebody better to assist her relive those ideals again, if she so wish.
1st february, 2011, is an important date to me since it is the date of my coming of age. the age of the blackened hearts and elderly solatium.
one heart, one end. hurrah, hurrah.
one heart, one day. hu, hu, hu.
2 comments:
Pencuri
more than that, my dear old school even PAS seems to lost her way in the complexity maze of political intrigues, which ironically rides on the back of high ideas.
Aaah, we of the old school are the last bastion of gentlemanship in bidding goodbyes - especially to our lovers. Yes? If it's time to bade goodbye - we do it without malice.
As you may recall old friend, my last anthology of poems entitled KamusKu KomikMu & Kad Kredit Kita Bersama, a self-published collection more than ten years ago were overloaded with goodbyes to lovers, friends and foes.
If you can't recall the singer, you can still recall the tune, and the name ... , Marja!
So at ease dear friend - for that one final piece of sacred words binding ever so eloquently yet making inroads to the very deepest of place where the heart retreats.
Lets all lover beware!
Old schools never dies; they don't even fade away; they stay but on a different plane
I wish I was born much earlier so that I'd be there to photograph the soul journey of the old schools. It'd be priceless, says the Mastercard advert.
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