Friday, July 12, 2019



One time, one student asked me this:

"Sir, how come there is no TV drama about engineers?"

Interesting question. 

Well we have seen many TV drama series involving several prominent professions. We have medical drama series such as House MD, Grey's Anatomy and Scrubs. We have political drama series such as The West Wing, Scandal and Veep. Suits and Law & Order depict the profession of lawyers. Heck, they even have drama series on criminals (Breaking Bad, Sherlock), ghosts (A Haunting, Sleepy Hollow) and supernatural stuffs (Supernatural, The X-Files). Even superheroes get their own series. 

So why not on engineers?

Well for one thing, the working life of engineers usually come with very less drama, if not none at all. Nobody ever came storming into the office and screamed in real horror, "come quick, the diesel engine is drying!" and then a couple of engineers swarming around the dying engine exhaustively trying to bring it back to life, saying "hang on, buddy, we're gonna save you! Stay away from the light damn it!" Can you imagine that happening?

Will you ever see your boss comforting a family of smaller petrol, Stirling and steam engines over the death of the previous diesel engine? Not gonna happen man. 

Despite the fact that every day we do different things, there seems to be no drama in what we do. Most of our operations are I/O, Yes/No, Go/No Go kind of thing. 

The power struggles in engineering societies are sometimes predictable. Whoever is better at the job (or performs the best ass licking) gets promoted. Nobody ain't killing anybody for the position of lead or resident engineer. So no drama there. 

Secondly, the range of work that engineers do is so wide that it will take a lot of TV episodes to cover them all. Sometimes we do so many things at once that we no longer know what exactly we're doing. One time we could be reviewing technical specs, then we'll be at the desktop designing something up, and then we could be running down a topside looking for a certain pipeline. There are too many specialisations. For a start, we have the common four fields: mechanical, civil, electrical & electronics, and chemical engineering. And then we have the hybrids and branches: mechatronics, aeronautics, aerospace, environment, petroleum, biomedical, architectural, automotive, structural, computer, robotics, material, industrial, manufacturing, nuclear, marine, agricultural and many others. 

And then there are the engineer ranks and positions (junior, senior, lead, resident, project,  consultant, professional etc.) and the positions & job specialisations (sales, design, static, rotating, piping, electrical & instrument, process, research, drilling, production, steel, testing, commissioning, maintenance, erection (?!) and others). 

Even our jobs confuse us, imagine what they do to drama producers. 

I think the closest we get to engineers in TV drama is The Big Bang Theory. 

And for that we thank you, Howard Wolowitz!


Engineer cum astronaut Howie










Tuesday, July 09, 2019


I get a lot of this question: don't you go to work? Especially from my gangster landlady who lives next door.

This is simply because I'm always at home. So it gives out the perception that I'm a jobless nut who slides on the mercy of my wife, who goes to work every day. Perhaps this is why my gangster landlady is concerned, in case she'll stop getting the rent one day.

Okay look. I'm a researcher. I work as a researcher and I get paid as a researcher.

Despite common beliefs, a researcher doesn't need to work in a laboratory, donning a white lab coat smeared with unknown substances while running around with Erlenmeyer flasks and hair apparently on fire. No, we don't do that. In fact that doesn't happen at all.

What people like me do is research, and research does not necessarily require a laboratory or even a work space. I have several work space at the university, but the thing is all of them are open type of work space. My work space is my shrine, and I like my work space filled with my private items.

Plus my boss is a real cool one. He's the type who gives out tasks and deadline and then won't bother about them until the deadlines come. "I don't care how or when you're gonna do it, but I'd expect the job is done when I need it." And that is why I still work with him for these 12 years. He just doesn't care as long as I deliver. And I'm the type who always deliver.

Now if I put my memorabilia and stuffs at my table at the university, chances are that I'm going to find it advertised in Mudah or eBay someday.

At home is where the real comfort is. I have my powerful desktop where most of my wonders are made (they don't give out PC to project-based researchers anymore at the university). I have my coffee machine. Rather fast internet. And I can wear shorts to work. I can always go to my garden or play with the cats whenever I'm stressed out.

So this is why I'm always at home. As long I deliver my work on time and everybody is happy, why not?



My little work space at home



Saturday, July 06, 2019


Sometime in May this year, I went to my second 30-day military course that, if successfully completed fulfilling all the specified requirements, will earn me the rank of lance corporal. 

To be honest, I was second guessing myself several times before deciding to go, given the fact that the experiences from my first course left me rather traumatised. These doubts rooted from several concerns, particularly my age - I would be surrounded by kids who are in their early twenties. I could foresee myself lying flat on the ground gasping for air like a suicidal Koi fish that just took a jump out of its pond after every morning PT (short for physical training). Secondly, the course were to be held during fasting month. 

"Oh, I'm so gonna be dead, for sure," I said to myself.

But in order to rank up, I can't miss the course. So after much contemplation and hesitation I submitted my registration and went for it. 

And I was right - out of 52 participants, there were only 3 who were above 30 years of age, myself included. Worse, the other two were quite physically fitter than I was. Well, there was no turning back anymore at that point, so the only way to go was forward.


The PTI in that all white jumpsuit with red cuff and collar

On the second day of the course (the first day was registration), we had our first morning PT. The PT instructor who took us for the first beating is a highly qualified military fitness instructor from the Royal Malay Regiment, and the word ruthless is considered still mild to describe him when in session. Being already privates, we were expected to perform better than cadets. It began at about 6.45 am and lasted for 45 minutes - the longest 45 minutes of my life this year. At least I thought so.  

I thought I saw Satan himself hovering above me, as I lied on my back panting at the end of the session. I couldn't feel my legs, hell, I couldn't even feel if I was alive anymore. To climb back to my 3rd-floor room was indeed a struggle, especially when both of my legs already refused to cooperate.

On the third day, the PT intensified. The sets and repetitions for various exercises - jumping jack, star jump, squat jump, push up, sit up, jumping push up, short sprint - increased double fold. Have you been in a situation where your physical fitness is pushed far beyond its limitation, that for the rest of the day all you joints feel like they're on fire? I had to crawl back to my 3rd floor room this time. 

On the fourth day, it got even worse. We were told to gear up in our military fatigue to undergo another type of PT - combat PT. It includes the same regime of exercise previously mentioned, but in addition of combat crawl, forward roll, side roll, fireman carry, pack strap carry, shoulder carry and cradle carry. For the carries, my partner was an almost 90-kg monster, and there I was, trying to hold myself from crapping my pants when carrying him back and forth. 

I wondered where they were gonna bury me. Hope it's not too far from the roadside, though. 

Shoulder carry. I'm the one squatting on the very left

Fireman carry. I'm the one second from the right

The PT continued on and the intensity increased every time. But after a while, since my body was getting used to the hardcore exercises, it wasn't so painful anymore and I began to get that euphoria, which could be equivalent to runner's high. The PTI, impressed with how we improved over time, was happy enough to let us have longer rest between sets. And the best thing about undergoing such PT is that I was able to shed off more than 10 kg of my energy reserve....or fat....in just a span of 30 days.

This was how I look like at the end of the course. Pretty lean, huh? Want to lose weight the quickest way, guaranteed? Join the army!


Friday, July 05, 2019


Well, hello.

It appears that it has been really a while since I last wrote anything in this blog. The last stamp date on my last post was some time in April 2015, so it has been more than four years that this blog was, well, there is no other word to describe it -- abandoned.

I could think of several reasons, but I guess the most significant one would be Facebook, where everyone can write freely and with absolute liberty (but of course, with predetermined but sometimes unforeseen consequences). I migrated to my Facebook account to share my thoughts, although most of them appeared in the form of micro blog posts.

But the content of my posts remained the same - sometimes thoughtful, sometimes delightful, but mostly hardly understandable, if not absolutely garbage. The latter was probably due to the amount of rubbish being shared on Facebook every day, that I sometimes got away and along with it.

Well, I have been planning to write again in here. It feels good to be back, really, given the fact that it took me some time and efforts to access the account since I have forgotten my credential and password.

This brings back a lot of memories, actually. Somewhat nostalgic. But then again I'm always hyper sentimental about things that mean a lot to me, this blog being one of them.

I guess this place needs some renovation so that it looks more up to date. I'll look into that soon, since the skills of beautifying this blog has since long gone. It will take a while, but it will definitely be done.

Wait, is there anybody still reading this blog anyway?


Wednesday, April 01, 2015

Ada orang tanya (baca: cuba hasut) saya berkenaan implementasi GST hari ini, dan adakah saya sudah bersedia menghadapi kenaikan harga.

Saya kata sudah. Habis saya nak kata apa lagi? Kalau kata tak sedia lagi, benda dah nak jadi. Jadi saya kata saya dah sedialah. Mau tak mau kena bayar juga. Dia tarik muka.

Dia kata, yalah kau orang kaya, duit banyak.

Saya kalau bukan fikir yang dia ini kawan saya sendiri, saya dah hempuk kepala dia dengan kerusi.

Sejak bila saya orang kaya. Saya tak kaya dan saya bukan anak orang kaya. Mak ayah saya pencen gomen. Saya tak ada kerja tetap serta masih belajar, dan bergantung hidup hanya kepada biasiswa pelajaran semata-mata. Kalau saya ada dapat projek engineering kecil-kecil, dapatlah saya duit saku sedikit. Kalau tidak, tak ada.

Saya sedar saya tak banyak duit, jadi saya pun kurangkan makan di luar. Kalau gula pasir dan gula perang di rumah, boleh tahan 3-4 minggu sepeket. Setin susu pekat tahan seminggu. Beras yang saya beli awal tahun hari tu 30kg, sampai ke hari ini berbaki. Nescafe, kopi, teh pun tahan lama.

Yang selalu habis, makanan kucing. Saya beli Tesco punya makanan kucing. Satu beg 3.5kg baru dalam RM25. Satu bulan satu beg, itupun kalau tak ramai warga kucing gelandangan dan separa kebuluran yang datang bertandang. Kalau tidak, 2 minggu dah habis.

Tuhan kata, Aku yang beri kamu rezeki. Nabi kata, bersedekahlah dan beri makan. Saya buat saja. Nabi kata apa yang kita syukuri dan kita sedekahkan akan kita dapat balik berkali ganda.

Pasal rezeki, insya Allah saya tak kusut. Kereta saya yang dah 15 tahun umurnya tu pun masih boleh berjalan jauh. Perbelanjaan saya teramat kecil, setanding dengan pendapatan saya yang sekelumit. Paling mahal pun rumah sewa sajalah.

Alhamdulillah isteri saya pun tak banyak songeh. Makan tak memilih. Apa dihidang atas meja, dia sapu. Dia lagi suka pergi kedai jual plastik dan barang pelik-pelik macam Daiso dan Mr DIY berbanding untuk ke shopping complex. Baju mekap dia, dia pandai cari diskaun.

Jadi hidup saya mudah, alhamdulillah. Hutang pun belum ada. Lagipun saya jenis yang kalau saya tak ada duit, saya tak berbelanja. Ada hikmah saya belum kerja lagi, jadi bank pun tak bagi saya pakai kad kredit. Mungkin kerana itu saya tak terasa sangat beban GST. Dan dengan adanya GST ini jugalah saya kini ada sebab nak berusaha kuat sedikit cari rezeki.

Kawan-kawan dah ada kereta besar, rumah besar, barang mahal-mahal. Saya cuma ada kebun kecil tempat saya bercucuk tanam bila lapang, seekor kucing kecil yang tempang kakinya, seorang isteri yang awesome dan tugas dan tanggungjawab yang saya minat buat di universiti.
Hidup sekadar mampu, beli apa yang perlu.

Percaya dengan yakin rezeki Tuhan yang bagi. Ada satu kali saya makan nasi lauk ayam di kedai mamak, dan ayam itu saya bagi pada seekor mak kucing yang dah sarat nak meletup sangat dah. Saya sempat gigit sikit saja ayam tu. Tak apalah, dah rezeki dia. Tiga hari berturut-turut selepas tu, ada saja saya dijamu makan. Orang belanja lah, makanan lebih mesyuarat lah, kenduri lah apa lah. Semuanya berlaukkan ayam. Satu sen pun saya tak keluar belanja.

Sama ada berkait dengan mak kucing tadi, wallahualam.

Sekiranya GST ini baik ataupun tidak untuk kita, kita pohon agar Tuhan permudahkan perjalanan hidup kita, agar kita tidak sesak dan pening kepala, semoga kita tidak lupa bersedekah, dan semoga kita sering dihujani dengan rezeki yang tidak disangka-sangka. Amiin.


Tuesday, March 31, 2015

Kita ini banyak sangat mesyuarat.

Minum pagi, mesyuarat kedai kopi. Masuk kerja, bos panggil mesyuarat. Keluar mesyuarat dah nak tengahari. Periksa emel, dapat peringatan tentang mesyuarat waktu petang. Karang lepas kerja, mesyuarat kedai kopi dengan kawan-kawan sampai ke malam. Baru nak tidur, dapat SMS daripada bos berkenaan mesyuarat esok pagi. Hujung minggu, mesyuarat parti/NGO/rukun tetangga/kelab dan sebagainya.

Ada kalanya, kita bermesyuarat hanya untuk memilih hari, masa dan tempat untuk mesyuarat akan datang.

Dan selalunya bila ada mesyuarat, ada lah makan-makan sikit. Itu pun nak kena buat mesyuarat lain untuk bincang apa jenis makanan dan siapa yang kena uruskan makan-makan semua tu.

Kadang-kadang bila kita tak ada mesyuarat, bila kita talipon kawan/kekasih, dia balas pula, "maaf, dalam mesyuarat".

Masa di tempat kerja paling banyak terbuang dalam mesyuarat. Kadang-kadang benda yang tak melibatkan kita pun, kita tetap dipanggil masuk mesyuarat. Paling sakit jiwa, bila orang yang kena ada dalam mesyuarat tu tak datang, maka terpaksalah tunda mesyuarat sampai ke mesyuarat yang akan datang.

Punya banyak mesyuarat, sampaikan kita kena tanya kawan kerja kita bila dia soal sesuatu yang dibincangkan dalam mesyuarat dengan, "mesyuarat yang mana satu?"

Sampaikan dalam mesyuarat pun, boleh ada mesyuarat kecil lain di kalangan puak-puak berlainan di dalam mesyuarat tersebut, yang mana satu pihak bermesyuarat berkenaan pihak satu lagi yang juga bermesyuarat berkenaan pihak pertama tadi, di dalam mesyuarat besar yang disertai dua pihak tersebut.

Dan ini setentunya akan mengundang ketegangan antara dua pihak atau lebih, yang mana isu ini hanya akan selesai apabila dibincangkan bersama di dalam satu sesi khas yang juga berbentuk mesyuarat.

Sudahlah. Cukup sampai sini saja dulu. Dah lewat ni. Saya ada mesyuarat.


Friday, March 27, 2015


The one thing that the education system of this country has achieved is to produce the so called highly qualified graduates with no spare for comments on entirely everything.

While it is acceptable to give out opinions on certain things, it is also customary to keep the mouth shut at times. Despite this otherwise very easy knowledge and skill, it seems that it has become common that many people will point out many others' mistakes in public in return for credits for being somewhat sharp, insightful and knowledgeable. 

Often times the posts in Twitter and Facebook and other forms of social media slam on a certain individual or a group, both in polite and impolite ways. It is not very difficult to scroll down the timeline and see someone posting something saying that a certain someone is at wrong (the writer with hopes to be seen as all time right) and the likes. 

Ranging from certain issues, from love spats to trivial and repeating events, the political posts are by far the worst. When you see a political post in your timeline, chances are that there will be vulgarities and a whole handful of bashing from one side to another and in reverse. Strangely enough, some of these come from individuals who are 'highly' educated.

Let me recall this one phrase I learned back in the days: no wise man would call other men stupid.

Bear in mind that being educated does not mean one can belittle others. After all, just how high is highly educated? I am at the highest point in the pillar of academics, and still I have doubts to call others as stupid, bodoh, dumb, bloody fool whatsoever. Because it occurs to me that, the more I learn the more empty I feel. There is no end and barrier in knowledge. When I think I have gained enough, there seems to be more to dig for. 

Therefore, those who easily throw the word bodoh to everyone else, in my opinion, must be the most educated person ever. Such a person must posses a highly genuine and sophisticated amount of excellent far-fetched knowledge that no other, or only a few others, have, therefore he can easily call others as stupid, because apparently he is by far more educated than others. 

That point discussed, our education system must be so successful that everyone is calling every others as stupid. And these people who confidently call others as stupid, with presumptions that they are by all means, presumptuously, more educated than others, are my idols. Oh such confidence, such arrogance! 

Well, they are my idols, at least until I read and listen to their (often times negligible) piece of mind. In the end they become the living proof of the phrase 'empty can rings the loudest, empty man speaks the most'.

The only thing we're missing in our education system, is teaching and enforcing basic manners. Please, educators (and parents, who mostly clean their hands by passing the educating responsibility to educators these days, let's not deny it), despite this not featured among the important academic syllabus, please do something about this. Nurture manners in our kids, and make this country not only highly educated but fascinatingly mannered. 

Act now, or it will be too late. 


Wednesday, March 11, 2015



I've always liked fire. I have the history of playing with fire (both literally and figuratively) since I was only a little boy. My master's and PhD studies are about fire -- combustion, technically. I have set a numerous things on fire, including myself for some reasons over the long, fiery years of my life. 

So one day I was lingering around the backyard and suddenly I had the urge to have an outdoor fire pit. This is pretty common. I've always had the most awesome and in the same the baddest ideas when I lingered around the backyard. One of these days if I linger a little bit longer there, it is possible that I might come up with a blue plan for a long distance artillery that automatically sets men in tight pants on fire.



Anyway, the fire pit I was thinking of looks like in the above image. But here's the thing: I'm renting this house so I can't pretty much build any permanent structure up. That explains why the observatory tower and swimming pool plans I had in mind were turned down long before they even get to the drawing board. For this pit, it has to be:
  • a temporary structure (so my land lady won't hack me down with saw for ruining her yard)
  • cheap (because I'm economical, like that)
  • able to serve its intended purpose as an outdoor fire pit.

So here's what I did.


* * *




First, I identified the suitable location for the fire pit. The place I chose below was next to a wall (my land lady's concrete fence for she lives next door, to be exact) and surrounded by my little curry tree and a lemon grass bush. The curry tree can stay but the lemon grass has to go.




Next, I cleared the land surface and levelled it with a plastic garden rake.




And then, I took some unused cement bricks at home and started laying them on the ground with a straight lumber to achieve a straight arrangement. For this fire pit, I decided to have a 3 x 3 brick configuration. 




And now the pit now took shape. Because I my perfectionist quality is bordering on psychotic, I needed to make sure that the geometry of the pit was within my requirement, so that involved with a lot of soil levelling, remeasuring, reconfiguring, relevelling and all those jumbled up not necessarily in that order. Just maddening, really.




Moving on. I removed all the bricks but before that I drew out the inner and outer outlines using the bricks as my guide. I didn't need the inner outline but I drew it anyway 'just to be sure'. Don't mind my obsession. The outline depicted the exact layout section to be removed, because I wanted a sunken fire pit instead of a raised fire pit. 




So you can now see how I dug up the area using a small hoe and a hand scoop. The entire yard is filled with sand (this was a mining place anyway) so digging wasn't that difficult. I started laying down the bricks and check for straight continuity and levelling.



There, all in. With the base ready, it's time to lay down the upper walls with more bricks. I didn't cement any of them together and wholly depend on the static friction at each touching surface of the brick to keep them in place and from falling apart.




First level.




Second level.




I took some of the sand that I dug up and filled it up in the voids around the structure. And then I raked them flat and level with the garden rake to give it a smooth finish.




There, the fire pit is complete. I found that solid wooden post at the bottom of the image lying somewhere around the corner of the house so I made it into a small bench.




I collected some woods and placed them in the pit and left them in the open under the sun for a few hours to keep them dry and smoke free when consumed in fire. 


* * *

So here are the results! Pretty neat, eh?
















I went to the hardware store and bought a small light bulb and some length of electrical wire and created an outdoor lamp post. Need a cover for the entire setup though but so far they look great in action. The rustic wall and the ambient added up to its majestic value.

Here is the entire cost of the project:

Cement bricks: RM 0.20 x 40 unit = RM 8.00
Light bulb + socket + 3 pin plug: RM 5.00
Wire: RM 5.00 (10 meter)
Manpower: 3 sticks of cigarette and a jug of cold Sunquick (negligible cost)

Total: RM 18.00. 

The happiness it gives me? Priceless.


Waktu pagi, buat kopi, buka FB.

Scroll, scroll, scroll.

Seperti biasa, kisah-kisah tipikal harian keluar di susur masa. Gambar orang jalan-jalan, gambar orang kemalangan, gambar orang kena tangkap, kisah pemakanan sihat dan larangan makan yang tidak tahu hujung pangkal, gambar orang jual produk mekap dan menguruskan badan, dan tak kurang status-status meroyan berkenaan pelbagai hal kecil dan besar (yang banyaknya hal-hal kecil yang tak berbaloi dibincangkan pun). 

Buka tabloid harian. Cerita-cerita hangat yang ada kalanya malu bila dibaca. Cerita onar golongan terkenal dan golongan biasa. Juga ada kisah perbalahan politik yang tidak berkesudahan. Macam-macam cerita.

Dan ramailah yang memberi komen. Lebih panas sesuatu topik yang dimuatnaik, lebih panaslah komen-komen yang tertera. 

Perkataan bodoh, bangang, macai, cabar-mencabar, pelbagai jenis carutan menghiasi ruangan komen. Yang mana setuju, yang mana tak setuju. Berbalah sama sendiri. Betapa mudahnya melemparkan kata-kata hinaan kepada orang lain, hanya kerana mereka tidak bersetuju dengan kita. Sakit mata.

Kata orang, orang yang bijak pandai tidak akan menggelar orang lain 'bodoh'.

Saya tidak pandai. Saya masih lagi belajar, mencari ilmu yang kadang jumpa kadang tidak. Terus-terang, jumlah ilmu yang saya hadap setiap hari buat saya takut. Betapa kecilnya kepala otak, betapa besarnya lautan pengetahuan. Lagi banyak saya belajar, lagi banyak yang saya tak tau. Terasa jahilnya. 

Jadi terlintas di hati saya, sedangkan saya yang kini merangkak ke tahap teratas aras akademik pun masih lagi takut-takut untuk menggelar orang lain bodoh, maka saya fikir mereka-mereka yang dengan mudah dan yakinnya menggelar orang lain dengan pelbagai gelaran mestilah lagi pandai, hebat, berinformasi, beradab sopan dan lebih berfikiran jauh, panjang dan tajam daripada saya.

Itu belum lagi mengambil kira orang yang dengan lantangnya mengatakan bahawa si polan dan si polan ini adalah ahli syurga manakala yang si polan dan si polan itu adalah ahli neraka. 

Dosa dan pahala kita, ramai yang tahu?

Lihat, betapa ramainya bijak pandai di FB. Pakar sains politik, pakar ekonomi, pakar kebajikan, pakar kejuruteraan (yang ramai dalam bidang automotif dan aeroangkasa serta avioniks kebelakangan ini), pakar undang-undang, pakar perubatan dan pelbagai lagi jenis pakar yang tinggi arasnya. 

Sayangnya, tak ramai yang ada kelulusan dan pengetahuan asas yang diperlukan untuk memberikan pendapat dalam bidang-bidang di atas dengan efektif dan berintegriti. Kalau bercakap tak ada inti, siapa mahu percaya? 

Lebih sayang lagi, semuanya bangsaku sendiri. 

Orang lain dah jauh ke depan, kita masih bergaduh di sini lagi.

Dan bila ada cerdik pandai kita yang memilih untuk menetap saja di luar negeri, kita gelar mereka pengkhianat, tidak kenang budi dan lupa daratan. Tapi kita tidak pernah nak tanya diri kita sendiri, mungkinkah kerana orang macam kita yang mereka ini sampai pergi membawa diri? Eh mana mungkin, bukankah rakyat negara ini lebih bijak pandai belaka?

Maaf sekiranya status ini mengguris hati siapa-siapa. Saya kini kan sedang cuba menghabiskan pengajian saya. Kenalah berfalsafah serba sedikit. 

Sudahnya, saya tengok saja gambar gerabak dan lokomotif keretapi. Depa bising-bising juga, tapi kerja jalan macam biasa. Daripada bising bergegar dunia, buka kepala isi pun tiada. 


Wednesday, February 25, 2015


So here's the thing.

My wife Lelia has been going for this Original Bootcamp series where a bunch of people sign up to undergo some twice-a-week high intensity physical training for three months at KLCC. It has been going on for almost two months plus now, where she trains on Tuesday and Thursday for an hour each in the evening every week. 

I fully support this activity.

For the fact that we both live separately at the moment due to work commitment, it is very possible for me to say that I have began to notice some very significant physical change on her each time we met. 

Before that, I believe it is necessary to tell you that Lelia was once a state hockey player during her younger days and she runs a lot. She is really into physical training and all these healthy habits, from which I suffered from every now and then, especially when she pulled me along when she needs to undergo her training or forced me to eat some punched out vegetable and fruit extracts that taste like moss juice. I did not physically suffer to begin with, but the pain was more on my pride. Seeing my wife running 5km made me feel as if I was the couch potato. So naturally, in order to preserve my male dominance and supremacy, I would run much further than that. You see, a man's hurt pride makes him do unbelievable things, that in the end will take toll back on him. In my case, I would normally lose a leg, lose my vision, or be visited by the death angel after I complete my run. But of course this doesn't stop me from competing with my athlete wife, albeit the fact that I am no longer the sportsman I once was. Long story short, my wife's physical ability hurts my pride and in order to avenge my pride I will end up hurting myself physically. Altogether it's a pretty messed up story.

But that's not the essence of this writing. 


* * * 


Here's the thing. Ever since Lelia has been attending the bootcamp, well it's easy to spot that she has put off a few pounds while gaining some pretty toned up muscles here and there. I could actually see the bumps on her muscular arms. But what is more unnerving is her leg. 

Lelia is an avid runner, so it's pretty expected that her legs would be all big and muscular, and they are. You see, a runner's legs are really toned up and in such a way, beautiful. They are solid, strong, springy, all those. They are just perfect. And now with this bootcamp thing, her Kayla movement thing, those squats and all other moves to curve up the perfect ass, it is much anticipated that the end result would be exciting to see. 

Recently I compared my thighs with those of Lelia's and to my own amusement they were bigger than mine, but not at all in a bad way. They were not only bigger but more muscular looking than mine. Imagine the hind legs of a fit and strong horse. Yes, that kind of legs. 

So it occurred to me that, God damn, if one of these legs kick me, intentionally or otherwise, it would send me right to kingdom come and back. It could turn me into a bowl of mashed potato in just three kicks. Or maybe it could kick me back into the future; a kick so hard, it ruptures the very fabric of space and time, hence acting as the only working time machine, thus promising a prominent expansion in the future of quantum physics. It could even kick an infant elephant right into adulthood. It could be used to maintain peace, or unleash a long episode of terror. It could start and end a war. Well exaggerated, I know, but you get the picture.

So from that moment on, I try hard not to cause trouble at home, or if I somewhat did, I try hard to stay out of the kicking distance from my wife. Not that she's going to kick me or anything, but the thought of it was frightening enough. Just overnight, I saw myself winning the Most Patient and Forgiving Husband award. 

But it's not her intentional kicking that scares me the most - it's the unintentional one. There was one time she (I thoroughly assumed) dreamt of swatting a fly and I got slapped so hard, my soul came out half way on the other end. Also it is worth to mention that one time she (again, I assumed) got into a boxing ring and punched me right below the diaphragm before resorting into a deep, snoring sleep later on, while I cried at the edge of the bed from the devastating pain. But despite all these unconscious bullying, I still like her though. 

Oh the fear, that one day when we are both asleep in the bed facing each other, and Lelia dreams of taking a game-changing and ultimately winning penalty in the game of soccer (she is now growing interests in the sport) and this gets translated into an actual physical movement. Oh, the fear!

Maybe it's time I put on a hard shell turtle suit and curl in it the next time I am in bed with her. Anyone's selling?


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Hey baby, sorry for opening up on your sleeping behaviour. I love you, please don't kick me.


Dat ass!