Followers

Mighty Jacksparrow is an Earth-based sub-intergalactic blogger who enjoys writing and in the same time entertaining his ever-amusing will-kill-to-read fans with sensationally hilarious and at times dramatic musings. This blog offers endless ideas and results; they might be charming most of the times but could be offending in some others. Therefore, it is always noble to remind that if you enjoy the pieces, carry on reading, but if they upset you, do quietly leave like the evening breeze and not like exploding diarrhea, which exactly what you will look like if you ever lose it on me. Enjoy! :D

Friday, January 30, 2009

The Quantum of Solace

"What does it means anyway?"

"What?"

"Quantum of solace?"

"Ouh..."

Quantum of solace means a lot to me, actually, because I hold this phrase as the pillar of my character. The meaning is simple - quantum is a physical unit of measurement for quantity, commonly known as extremely small, beyond microscopic, while solace is peace. So quantum of solace means an extremely small quantity of peace.

For Bond's case, he needs a quantum of solace to forget Vesper Lynd, his very first love whom he met during his first double-o mission in Casino Royale, who then committed suicide after she betrayed Bond, for that her love and her causing had both brought her such unbearable guilt where death was the only solution.

The love for Vesper was the reason that shaped Bond into what he is today - cold blooded, vengeful, secretive, but is quite a womanizer. Yet, no matter how many women he had slept with, none of them compares to Vesper, even his wife whom he married later on.

* * *

As for me, I'd never really wanted anything in life other than peace, even just for a bit.

Sure, sometimes greed got to me like everybody else had.

But what's more important to me than everything else is just peacefulness. Nothing is more rewarding than that, and I believe that was and still is the reason why I could keep on moving forward. Keep pushing forward no matter what lies ahead.

As long as I am calm, and staying calm, I am very sure that I could grip life by the neck. But sometimes I got myself swept away too. And when I was there, I've had always reminded myself of my ever favorite quote by Rocky, played by Sylvester Stallone:

"I'd hold you up to say to your mother, "this kid's gonna be the best kid in the world. This kid's gonna be somebody better than anybody I ever knew." And you grew up good and wonderful. It was great just watching you, every day was like a privilige. Then the time come for you to be your own man and take on the world, and you did. But somewhere along the line, you changed.

You stopped being you. You let people stick a finger in your face and tell you you're no good. And when things got hard, you started looking for something to blame, like a big shadow. Let me tell you something you already know. The world ain't all sunshine and rainbows. It's a very mean and nasty place and I don't care how tough you are it will beat you to your knees and keep you there permanently if you let it. You, me, or nobody is gonna hit as hard as life. But it ain't about how hard ya hit. It's about how hard you can get it and keep moving forward. How much you can take and keep moving forward. That's how winning is done!

Now if you know what you're worth then go out and get what you're worth. But ya gotta be willing to take the hits, and not pointing fingers saying you ain't where you wanna be because of him, or her, or anybody! Cowards do that and that ain't you! You're better than that! I'm always gonna love you no matter what. No matter what happens. You're my son and you're my blood. You're the best thing in my life. But until you start believing in yourself, ya ain't gonna have a life. Don't forget to visit your mother. "

Rocky Balboa

And immediately, I'll get my quantum of solace.

Kerana dalam hidup ini,
tiada apa lagi yang dicari,
bukan wang ringgit bukan pari-pari,
cukuplah sekadar ketenangan hati.

Berbulu & Perihal Pekerja Murai

Aku sedikit berbulu hari ini.

No. Bukan berbulu yang itu. Hati aku ini yang berbulu.

Hari ini dua tiga orang datang komplen-komplen. Mula-mula aku dengar saja-lah. Tapi lama-lama naik berbulu la kan.

Dulu masa sedang belajar, kau orang semua mahu kerja. Ah belajar ini susah-lah, pening kepala-lah, penat-lah, buang masa-lah, banyak masalah-lah, apa-lah. Kau orang mau kerja. Mau buat duit kononnya. Nah, sekarang kau orang sudah bergelar graduan dan sedang bekerja, perbuatan yang kau orang sering idam-idamkan selama ini. Gaji ribu-ribu.

Tapi kau orang tak pernah tutup mulut.

Sekarang kau orang kata, ah kerja ini susah-lah, pening kepala-lah, penat-lah, buang masa-lah, banyak masalah-lah, apa-lah.

Apa yang kau orang mau sebenarnya?

* * *

Aku dulu pernah buat internship di MMHE. Malaysia Marine & Heavy Engineering di Pasir Gudang ini adalah satu kompeni Melayu yang kerjanya membina dan membaiki kapal, pelantar minyak dan tangki-tangki besar. Pendek kata, construction & engineering la, macam dalam Discovery Channel tu.

Aku kerja pukul 8 pagi sampai pukul 5 petang. Elaun RM250 sebulan. Tempoh masa kerja, lapan bulan.

Empat bulan pertama, aku diletakkan di Engineering & Construction Division, bahagian Commercial & Estimating. Kerja aku senang: katakan Carigali nak buka satu field dan perlukan platform/pelantar baru, dia akan buka tender dan MMHE akan participate tender tersebut. Nanti Carigali akan hantar dokumen-dokumen dia, dan kerja aku adalah buka P&ID (Piping & Instrument Diagram), kira ada berapa banyak instruments dan berapa banyak piping items, tengok sama ada tally atau tidak dengan jumlah yang Carigali bagi, cari harga barang, lepas tu estimate berapa harga platform tu dan hantar balik pada Carigali.

Ala senang je kot, setakat nak kira-kira barang. Yep, dokumen dia pun sedikit saja. Ada-lah dalam 20 buku, seribu muka surat setiap satu.

Pernah sekali, aku balik pukul 3 pagi semata nak siapkan dokumen yang esok paginya kena sampai di basement Tower 1 KLCC.

Lepas 4 bulan, aku kena transfer ke PMT. Project Management Team untuk Angel Project. Kali ini aku buat pelantar.

Masa itu engineer kurang, at least dalam Piping Department tempat aku ditugaskan. Jadi kami budak-budak internship ini terpaksa-lah memegang tanggungjawab sebagai engineer. Kena sign borang, superseed drawings, berkejar ke warehouse, patah balik ke workshop, berlari jumpa client, patah balik ke warehouse, meeting pulak lagi, macam-macam.

Sejak hari itu aku selalunya akan jumpa rumah balik pada pukul 12 tengah malam.

Senang kan kerja aku? RM250 sebulan elaun, tak kira berapa banyak kerja pun aku buat.

* * *

Aku bercerita ni bukan sebab aku nak mendabik dada. Tidak. Aku bercerita supaya kau orang nampak kenapa kau orang tak happy masa bekerja.

Kenapa ya tak happy?

1. Kau kerja kerana duit. Memang-lah bekerja kerana duit, tapi kau sudah sampai tahap yang memikirkan segala yang kau buat perlu dibayar setimpalnya. Kalau tak dibayar, kau tak mahu buat. Well, memang logik. Memang masuk akal. Buat-lah macam itu sampai kau retire nanti.

Jangan lupa, orang yang kasi kau gaji sedang bermain mata-mata. Kalau dia nampak kau buat lebih kerja, tak mustahil dia akan kasi gaji lebih. Ini kerja lebih sikit pun dah buat muka lesung batu, boleh pulak mintak gaji naik. Kalau dia betul-betul perah kau lain cerita-lah.

2. Kau menyampah dengan kerja kau. Habis tu kenapa kerja? Oh sebab duit. Jadi kau rela sakit hati buat kerja untuk gaji, daripada digajikan sebab kau buat benda yang kau suka? Oh sebab kerja kau susah. Kau nak kerja senang-senang. Di opis title kau apa? CEO?

Mula-mula kerja memang-lah susah sikit, kawan. Ini duit nak tapi kerja tak mau, apahal? Kalau kau genius lain cerita la.

3. Kau benci bos kau. Sebab dia selalu marah kau? Kau tak pernah terfikir ke kenapa dia selalu marah kau?

Jangan lawan bos sebarang-sebarang. Kau mungkin boleh buat dia sakit hati, tapi dia bila-bila masa boleh terajang kau keluar pintu opis buat selamanya. Tapi jangan pulak kau bodek bos. Itu carik penyakit namanya.

4. Kau rasa gaji kau kecil.

Ke spending kau yang besar? Baru dua bulan kerja kau dah beli kereta baru apahal?

Nasihat aku pada kau orang yang terasa:

1. Ikhlas. Kalau bos mintak buat kerja lebih, buat saja. Jangan nak tarik-tarik muka. Sekali dia suruh, dua kali dia suruh, masuk tiga kali Insya Allah ada habuan untuk kau sedang menanti. Bos aku dulu pernah bawa aku makan free entah berapa kali sebab tolong dia tanpa banyak soal. Kita mungkin tak dapat gaji buat kerja lebih, tapi kita dapat habuan lain.

2. Jangan menipu. Kalau bos tanya dah siap ke belum kerja yang dia bagi, cakap terus terang. Kalau dah siap, cakap siap. Kalau belum, cakap belum. Jangan kalau belum buat langsung tapi kau kata dah separuh siap. Nanti kalau dia mintak nak tengok apa yang kau kata dah separuh siap tu, sekali kau tak dapat tunjuk sebab memang belum buat pun lagi. Ha, itu memang wajar-lah kena maki.

3. Jangan mengulor. Kau dibayar bukan untuk mengulor. Kalau kau mengulor, tu duit haram tu namanya. Itu pasal hati kau tak tenteram. Paham? Ini time orang buat kerja, kau tidur, kau main internet. Bila time evaluate prestasi, gaji kau tak naik, kau marah-marah. Apahal? Kalau memang tak ada kerja tak apa-lah.

4. Jangan nak memandai-mandai. Kalau tak tau, tanya. Jangan nak tunjuk pandai. Time bos bercakap time meeting, jangan nak angkat tangan kata dia salah walaupun memang betul pun dia salah. Kalau nak tegur dia salah pun, tegur la masa dia dah keluar dari meeting. Bukan depan-depan orang ramai. Itu memang saje carik nahas la kan.

5. Jangan banyak komplen. Kalau baru masuk kerja tak sampai setahun dah nak komplen itu komplen ini, baik kau berhenti je sebelum kau mati sakit jantung nanti. Kalau tak suka bekerja, berhenti. Ini kau komplen-komplen, besok pagi nak punch card nampak muka kau jugak lagi.

6. Cari ketenangan dalam bekerja. Masa aku di MMHE dulu, setiap pukul 6 aku akan pergi ke tepi laut di shiplift (dermaga darat) dan lepak kat situ minum nescafe dan hisap rokok. Angin laut yang masin dan kelibat Singapore dalam 1000 meter dari tempat aku lepak boleh buat aku tenang. Kapal lalu lalang buat aku tenang. Burung gagak berak tepi longkang buat aku tenang.

Kau kena bertenang dalam bekerja. Kalau tak ada laut di tempat kau, kau tengok-lah darat. Di KLCC mesti dapat nampak sekitar Kuala Lumpur. Tengok-lah orang lalu-lalang contohnya. Kalau kau di pelantar, kau tengok-lah api flare yang menyambar tu walaupun dah sejuta kali pun kau tengok. Find something interesting.

Kalau kau kerja bawah tanah pun, kau masih boleh cari ketenangan. Takkan benda macam ni pun aku nak ajar?

Between Dirty Greasy Hands and Clean White Coats Part V

Previously on Between Dirty Greasy Hands and Clean White Coats: Still haunted by Nad's leaving, he was bedazzled with a lot of difficulties to pursue with his dream to become someone savvy in medicine. He later abandoned his study in knowing human anatomy and continued his pursuit in something else, until he realized into what he had then became. But then it was already too late - he stranded at a point of no return. His destiny became a question: Will he end the way Nad did?

* * *

A hundred fifty-two over a hundred and twenty eight. In numerical form it looks like this: 152/128.

Not quite something medical practitioners would love to deal with when they check someone's blood pressure. Especially in a 21 years old man.

"So what's the problem, really?"

She didn't even look at me when she uttered the question.Her eyes were anchored at the form she was filling in. The room was cold due to the air conditioning system, or because they had to lower down the temperature in order to preserve the body covered by white bed sheet on a bed next to mine. The clock on the wall showed 3 a.m. in the morning, and lying on a bed in a chilly room with a lady doctor on your right and a dead body at the end of your feet was not something I really enjoyed doing, not in a very long time.

A panel on the wall read 'Emergency'. Who took me here anyway? Oh yes. I blacked out.

I looked at the body at the end of my bed. There were some blood stains on the sheet that covered the body. I assume she died on the road. Why she? Well men don't have such obvious growth of lumps on their chest, do they now?

"Hmm?"

This time she was looking at me. The table lamp behind her shone onto her back, creating such effect like when you stand behind a spotlight, making edges of your body shine but your body stays in silhouette. Her clean white coat added to the effect even more dramatically.

"I don't know. I just fell." I hoped my reply will satisfy her. I was not into medical chat, at least not with a cold dead body at the end of my feet.

"Look here," she said while showing me the form she was putting her attention into just now. "152/128. Do you know what that means?"

No I don't. I do not know how to read a blood pressure index and compare it to the normal human BP. What am I, an infant?

But being egoistical won't do as much here, so I succumbed into her game by simply saying 'no'. She later explained all the sunshine and rainbows on BP reading while I listened to hear carefully just to make sure she knew what she was talking about. By observing her, I could estimate that the lady had either just made it out fresh from med school, or had just finished her housemanship. She seemed stiff and awkward, and a little bit grumpy too. Perhaps it was due to her changes of hormones, or just because of a jerky boyfriend.

"Your BP peaked. Your eyes were sore when you got in. What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Probably I was just too tired."

"You're BP was suicidal. What's the problem? You're having hypertension."

"Hm."

"You are young. How could your BP peaked this high?"

Maybe I was breaking down. Or I was having a goddamn heart attack. Or a carpal tunnel syndrome. Or a systolic cardiac event. Or probably I was just in labor. What's wrong with you, woman? Do I look like someone who wanted to talk about my problem? I'm having a headache here, would pressing me on will do me the favor?

I looked at her in silence. In a way or another she was quite a beautiful woman. Long hair tied into a simple pony tail with its end lying on her right chest, straight nose, a bit cheeky, long chin and pretty eyes - those feature got to me fast enough, but I should remember what happened when I last dated a medical student. She noticed that I was staring at her so I looked away, in pain. She let out a small sigh.

And then she stood up from her chair and walked out the door into the next room, leaving me with once her patient and not anymore. The solid wooden door closed slowly, making a small thud when it hit the door frame.

I pulled myself up and tried to sit on my legs. The headache was still there but my eyes were alright. My legs were cold and painful but I didn't really bother to know why. The smell of antiseptics and meds were killing me already. Let's just hope the lady in front of me didn't die because of the smell, nor she will wake up and tell me how she died. The air conditioning unit rattled on and off, making the atmosphere inside the room became more and more horrifying.

I looked behind me and there were some bottles and sheets, nothing else. There was an old, curiously looking cupboard at the end of the room behind me, and a pair of mops. At the other end there was another mobile steel cart.

BAMMM!

I turned around in a flash, shrieked like a girl who lost her doll in a mud pool, and jumped like someone who gets the paddle shocks, nearly falling down from the bed. It was the door just now, with the lady doctor trying to hold it with her leg. A steel pail fell off when the door hit it just now, hence the noise. In her hands were two cup of drinks.

You smart ass. I almost shit myself.

She walked to me and handed me a cup from her right hand.

"Scared?"

No. Not at all. Why don't you do it again? Show it to me one more time, doc.

She smiled and then pulled a wheelchair next to her table close to the bed. She asked me to sit on the wheelchair and I did. As I made myself comfortable, she patted on my shoulder and pushed the chair towards the door and out. It was brighter outside in the waiting hall than the attending room, and I felt much better. The hall was empty but for two people who were sitting at the end of the sitting row. Both I knew very well - they were my next door neighbor and my roommate - and both were sleeping soundly like a baby.

She stopped the wheelchair by the counter and handed me my wallet and a bag of medicines with written instruction sheets. She then walked to the end of the corner to wake the two sleeping beauties. Since there was more light in the hall, I could see her clearly this time. Around 170cm tall she was, with a slim figure. She wore a pair of dark colored jeans and a blue t-shirt under her coat. She wore a black colored pair of comfortable shoes, and she walked calmly but confident.

As soon as the two woke up, they greeted me and fetched me up with their car up front at the emergency department porch. The doctor lady sent me off to the porch and left me with my roommate while the neighbor boy went to get his car. I didn't even bother to thank her but my roommate did. I didn't know why I was all too grumpy that night. I didn't like her. More specific, I didn't like doctors. Not at all, not anymore.

Probably Nad's case did change me a lot.

When we left the hospital compound, I saw her standing by the counter. She smiled a bit and waved goodbye, which I didn't reply any of them back. I gripped the medicine bag tightly and let out a small sigh. Then I took out the instruction paper from the bag and start reading it, just for the sake of filling my own time since my roommate had gone back to sleep in the front seat while the neighbor boy was enjoying the slow music from the radio.

The instruction ended with 'If the problem persists, please refer back to us."

But there's another thing. There was this small piece of post-it note attached at the signature of the attending doctor. On top of it was written in red ink, 'Sorry if I was too nosy'. What crap? Why did she even bother to say sorry? How could a practitioner got too emotionally attached to the patients? I pulled off the post-it note in disgust to take a look at the signature and stamp, and with the help of the street light I managed to read them off in a glance.

Dr. Nurul Nadiah Bt. Mohd. Hussein
(MBBS Manipal)
Pegawai Perubatan
(signature, 'Nad')

Nad? God, You've gotta be kidding.

Thursday, January 29, 2009

Emo

I'm not in a good mood.

So please expect bitter post(s) from me starting this moment onward.

thank you.


p/s: please, somebody, anybody, make me happy.

Thursday, January 22, 2009

Between Dirty Greasy Hands and Clean White Coats Part IV

Previous Episode: Nad's death became a tipping point for him, this time for him to fall to either of the sides but to stay on his stands. Emotion began to brew as he faced the saddening news only by himself, together with the dreams he always had trouble with. Will Nad's death changes everything?

* * *

She's gone. And I still couldn't believe it.

I cramped myself inside the small room of mine, hugging my legs at one corner of the room. It was a dark night, and it was raining heavily outside. Nothing lit the room but my old table lamp. Papers and books everywhere, lying on the cold, white marble floor. The cut on my arm finally stopped bleeding. Not far from me were shattered glass from a mug that I hit into a million pieces earlier due to the extremity I had in mind. The wall where I leaned onto was chilly, but I did not really care. I rested my head on it, trying to take my mind off by glazing off into something. My eyes were all swollen and painful every time I blinked, but I never bother to entertain the irritation. And then I saw the computer.

The monitor screen was on, showing off a custom screensaver with dozens of Nad's pictures one after another, continuously. She seemed to be so natural, and she seemed to be so much alive. The way she smiled, the way she looked into the camera when the pictures were taken were as if she was looking at me. Those shiny brown eyes were always full of dreams and hopes. There were then pictures of her in her robe and coat, the clean white coat that I had always wanted to wear instead of my coverall. But I could never will. My hands were dirty. They were greasy.

"They were not greasy, sayang. I'll help you clean them out. You will feel better."

I really wish you were here, Nad.

I wonder how was she doing. She was all alone down there. Would she be fine? It was raining outside. Would she be alright? Sure it was very cold. It is damn dark, and it was sure damn crampy there, six feet down under. Would there be someone to hug her through the night? What if she cries? Would she be able to contact me? Would she miss me? Well I know I did.

And I wepy again that night. For the last time.

Days went by slowly after that, and finally I was in my fourth year in engineering studies. I became somebody else. I didn't talk as much, and I spent most of my time in my small room. I abandoned my studies in medicine, but I never throw the books and journals away. I kept them in two boxes, sealed peacefully. I never open them at all, and I soon forgot about them.

I started to focus into my engineering studies. I started to familiarize myself with engineering terms, and I spent most of my time calculating and predicting. I resorted myself into studying economics and philosophy. I tried hard to distract myself from remembering the catastrophic lost, even when it cost me my only dream. Sure, I never forget Nad in any way, but I did not want to remember her either. So I got myself busy on other things, pushing myself to the limit.

But then I got too busy.

I became a manic. I started losing vast amounts of sleeps. I read twice as more as I did before, sometimes three times. I sometimes skipped my meals, and I smoked heavily. I stayed awake when most of the people in the campus were sleeping, and when they were awake I stayed awake too. All I did was reading and speculating, rationalizing every information that I obtained from the books I read, mostly philosophy. Worst, I started to skip my classes, and I became socially isolated from the outer world.

But I forgot all about Nad. I got what I wanted.

One day when I was reading, I realized that the sentences on the pages of the book were all blurred. I blinked a few times but it didn't change a thing. So I took a look into the mirror on my wardrobe, soon to see that there were bloodshots in my left eye. It was red, and the blood vessels were as if they were embossed from the eye surface. And slowly I took a look again at myself, this time a close one.

I was messy. Long, unmanaged hair. Oily face. Beard all over. My lips were dark and dead. Look at those wrinkles. Look at that sad looking face. I ran my fingers on my face. I ran them along my hard, messy hair. Slowly I realized how spoilt I became. And how ridiculous I look like. What changed me so badly? Was it you Nad?

As I stood in front of the mirror looking into myself, I felt something in my head. It was this pin-and-needle pain poking into my brain. It hurt a little at first, but it grew gradually into a terrible one. I could not feel my legs, and I started to sweat a bit. And I saw how horrified my face was in the mirror. I was pale all over.

I walked out from my room slowly on my numb feet trying to call for help but I couldn't make a sound. I lost vision from my left eye already, and probably soon my right eye. I leaned against the wall and pushed myself forward along the corridor to the nearest room next to mine but I was losing energy fast. I felt so damn tired to walk for even a few more steps. Soon I found myself sitting on my own legs, panting for breath. Sweat flowed into my eyes. It hurt a bit.

Didn't they say that when your life is about to end, your memories flash in front of you?

I pulled up my head and I saw somebody looking and calling at me but I didn't recognize who. Everything was so blurry. The vision went on as if it was in slow motion. I could hear beautiful music. It was rather dramatic than tragic. Slowly the voice faded away and my eyelids were shut. And I curved my lips a little.

Fuck. Is this it? Is this it Nad?

I blacked out.

Wednesday, January 21, 2009

Between Dirty Greasy Hands and Clean White Coats Part III

Previously: He starts all over again on his medicine study and things get out of hand when the love for medicine gradually changes to magical love towards female medical students. Inspired for one, he travels far to undergo his own rehab process in order to deal with his confidence issue, critically compromising his alter-ego who dramatically turns out to be his own self.

* * *

As the medicine study steadily went on well, this developing interests towards young ladies in clean white coats with stethoscopes around their necks troubled me greatly. I could never be able to resist the fancy thoughts of actually being with one, and this had been going on for weeks. As the study turned out to be more and more difficult than the way I personally thought it could ever be since I did not have any proper medicine foundations nor handsomely planned chapter study, I finally suggested to myself that i needed help on it or this thing will never go on.

Which in the end turned out to be a stepping stone for me to get to know a lady from the medical stream.

So this Syarifah Nadiah was from a local institute studying medicine at the time I contacted her via Friendster messaging system. She was not in my friends list (found her by accident) and we have never met each other in person but she was somehow very pleasant and gentle with her words. The way she looked like however, I would not be likely to say she’s gorgeous but anyone with hazelnut-color eyes, long wavy hair and cherry red lips stunned most men just like the way she did me, especially when she wore the clean white coat and her hair softly brushing the coat’s collar. She was indeed an eye candy.

Lets call her Nad.

I started off smoothly in order not to reveal either any of my interests towards medicine or towards her. With carefully arranged words, I sent my electronic notes over to her to draw a bit of her attention. My question was simple: 'How do you deal with flu and fever?'

And within a few hours I received a notification from Friendster via Yahoo Messenger Live Alert informing that a new message had just arrived. And obviously it was from Nad. I was not much of an optimist back then so I checked the message without any hope whatsoever. To me, this could be just another rejection, or some simple 'start to read you moron' types of reply.

The message was somehow very surprising. Apart from the facts on viral flu and common cold that were properly written in simple words and not in the usual technical language, she even asked whether I had them and told me to take care of myself if I did. The fact that she cared differed hers from other replies I received from numerous future doctors; some pasted facts probably copied from a website, some did not even bother to reply, some replied as if they did not want to but they have to in the name of medicine and being nice, and one of them even replied me with ‘Google it’ as the answer for my call.

It is always in the nature of human where they get intimidated with something. This time it was me towards kindness, humility and pretty decent medical student. Further asked why of such reply in order to satisfy my curiosity, she totally cleared it up in a sentence.

"That is how a doctor shall behave. Nice, tolerant, kind, informative, and cute."

And so my hungry heart which was then desperate for a specific knowledge and as well the need of a company after so long of intense spouse deprivation, I proceeded to get to know her better. And everything she did made my love sprouted rapidly, rooting into my veins like dye does to a cup of water. The sensational feelings when i read her messages and the signs of acute syndrome while waiting for her reply clearly explained my state of behavior that time. I was love sick. It was madness, going on for nearly three months.

Oh I had never felt better.

We started to chat and later talked on the phone. We laughed and we listened to each other. Sometimes we texted each other until one of us fell asleep. Sometimes we woke each other up and changed good morning. Sometimes we checked each other during class time and at other times too. Sometime we miss-called each other and hung up when the call was answered. Sometimes we even kissed each other; I sent her the word ‘lips’ over the phone and she replied with ‘on cheeks on nose and on my forehead, do it now or you’ll be dead!"

But I sensed that there was something wrong with this lady.

She constantly refused to talk about her future and avoided any conversation about it. Neither too on family, love, relationships and many other personal things even though we were already working for a relationship to come. Having my curiosity buckled up fast, I further bombarded her with questions related to the topics, only to find her getting upset with me. Surprisingly she never left me at all, but continuously feeding me with endless information I needed, sometimes even stuffs that I did not.

But we argued a lot on the phone on the same issue most of the time.

It was only on the fourth month that I finally, somehow, lost it and asked her of why she hid a lot of things from me. I explained what I felt for her even. Looking at my conditions, she finally gave up. Well she did confirm that she felt the same I did towards her, but she claimed she could not be with me.

"At least not in this life."

What crap. I was mad at her. In my mind was all negative. I could not see clearly. Naughty thoughts linger upon me like hyenas on fresh carcasses. And now, my only confidence issue got to me real good.

"Why? Is that because I am just an engineering student?"

"I didn’t.."

"Because you get disgusted to know that I am an engineering student and afraid your friends and parents compared me to more appalling male doctors, is that what you mean?"

"No..I did not say that.."

"Because you will be ashamed of me, because my intelligence can never exceed yours, because.."

"Because I’m dying." And immediately she hung up.

All of these times I have never been so surprised. How terrible of me treating her that way. How guilty I felt, covering myself in the shroud of shame and disgust. Few days went passed and things became very awkward. Both of us did not message each other anymore. Perhaps maybe she was still upset with me or I was just being a proud coward. Days went by having me desperately waiting for her call or her messages but none ever reached me.

Slowly I turned into a beast one could only imagine; I got grumpy and I became disoriented for my mind was full of thoughts on her. Of her messages. Of our stories. Of our conversations. Of our love.

Never could resist anymore I took the humble way by contacting her via her number, and soon after a few tones her voice softly spoke into my cold ear. It was comfortably warming.

"I'm sorry."

Pause. Then the reply,

"You better be."

And just like that she forgave me. And we started all over again. We soon talked again and we laughed again, forgetting whatever that happened the past few days. We forgave and we forgot.

But the story between Nad and me did not last long. We never made into a relationship and we did not break up either. No matter how joyful it was when I had Nad back then, still I had to remind myself of a fact from which I cried to myself every time when I thought of it.

Nadiah passed away on the 15th of July, 2005 at the age of 19, after nearly 2 weeks from her operation and was only a week plus shy to her 20th birthday. She was suffering from an ovarian cancer, and her body system finally shut down due to complications after the surgery she had in order to remove the cancerous tissues. I was informed by her mom that she died peacefully in her sleep, not exactly what you doctors categorize as sleep since she was in a coma state. Pronounced dead at 6 something am, during when the muazzins was performing the call for Subuh or Fajr prayer on that Friday morning.

All these times she had been hiding this from me.

I do not want to further explain how I felt back then but I guess it is alright to say that i was pretty much fucked up with her sudden, uninformed leaving. She only told me that she was to leave to visit her grandparents in England (she was half Caucasian) and will be away for some time. Even when she earlier stated that she had this cardiac problems and insisted to believe that she will not live long, which of course ended up with me scolding her by saying so, never in my mind to expect that she left this fast, this early.

It was not cardiac problem at all.

Before her ‘leave to England‘ she told me that she will message me once she had the time to when she gets there in Heathrow. But I guessed it was either she never had the time, yet, or because there was no communication device whatsoever, yet, in ‘Heathrow’. At least those were the reasons I believed why the message had never reached me till today.

Her parents and siblings cancelled her Friendster and Myspace account before shifting to England on Spring 2005. I never knew where she was buried, and I lost contact with the family members since then.

Rest in Peace;
Syarifah Nadiah Syed Mazlan
21 July 1985 - 15 July 2005
A friend, an inspiration, a lover, a memory.

Between Dirty Greasy Hands and Clean White Coats Part II

Previous Episode: He finds it hard to move on when a lady med student left a deep scar on his only belief that he can be as sharp as a doctor can be, medically speaking. Sore and hurt, he halted his walk to glory, seeing that there is nothing left to prove and everything is a mess.

* * *

Moving on without getting bumped into anything related to medicine was kind of hard. It was hard not to perform physical examinations on everyone I met. It took me a few months before I could forget all about the study on medicine, but never the lines of words from that lady med student. The pain was so terrible, equivalent to that of when surgeons start to open up your gum using scalpels for root canal surgery, without a single dose of anesthetic.

So i moved on soon after that. By that time I was already in my third year in UTP, and it was the examination weeks. Wanting to have myself completely away from medicine, my faith was never that kind to let me go.

I woke up one morning only to sense that something was terribly wrong with my body. I was shivering, which meant I was having hypothermia. My heartbeat rate increased and I was experiencing slightly fluctuating headaches. Signs of a fever, probably a mild one. So i ate up a few paracetamol pills and admitted myself for bed rest until the temperature stabilizes, in which my hypothalamus failed greatly to.

Two days after, my fever was still with me, putting me in a condition where I shivered and lost my appetite. My mouth became so dried that I could barely swallow my own spit. I started to do some differentials but I did not have the critical information for one. So I went to three board certified doctors in three clinics; one suggested normal fever, one prescribed me with more paracetamol and antibiotics, and another one ruled out Dengue fever as the dengue detector device proved my blood to be negative for carrying dengue virus. I finally ended up with bottles of painkillers and antibiotics, an MC for viral fever and an empty wallet.

A week went on and I was getting worst. I still shivered at a higher rate of muscle movements. None of the medicines worked and I stopped eating completely already. It was on the 8th day that I finally decided to go to Pantai Puteri Hospital in Ipoh for the fourth opinion; the opinion that changed my life wholly. Had my friends accompanying me, we drove all the way 42km to Ipoh from UTP on a rainy night.

"Hey, that’s Pantai Puteri," said one of them.

"Lets climb up and replace the ‘I’ in the word Pantai to ‘T’ and see what happens next. Ha ha ha ha!"

(My friends in their early twenties were always very pleasing.)

Sorry brothers, but I was dying already. After having myself registered, I was called into the examination room and attended by a rather good-looking male Malay doctor. He proceeded with everything a doctor will do at the initial period; basic questions, temperature check, auscultation and blood pressure check. It was not until he read the millimeter mercury gauge when he started to make that face doctors usually make when they measure their patients temperature appear to be at 50 degree Celsius, or when they see the patient starts to turn blue completely.

He excused himself and went out the room, leaving me in total confusion, shivering like a polar bear in a nitrogen-cooled refrigerator. The headache I was having was so unbearable that I was about to perform myself a trans-orbital lobotomy using whatever I could find on his table for that I was already going psychotic until he appeared again with a pleasantly-looking nurse which I quickly assume was newly in service.

"I am afraid you cannot leave tonight sir. We need to admit you tonight. You got dengue fever."

What?!

My differentials were all right since the very beginning. Three doctors misdiagnosed, and finally the fourth one did not. I was told to sit on a wheelchair, and the nurse applied the upper side of my left hand with antiseptics and nervously inserted a needle with removable cap to plug in IV drips tubes into one of the blood vessels in my hand. She was so nervous she accidentally popped the cap open and my blood oozed out onto her properly-ironed pink and white uniform and all over the floor. She shrieked a little as i looked in complete horror, nearly crying and about to go psychotic again until she applied the cap back on thus eliminated the possibility of me bleeding to death from an IV drip pin module.

I’m sorry about the blood on your uniform, sweetheart, and my heart will always bleed for you. Now, please, bring me up to my room so that I can calm down a bit from the breaking stunt you attempted on me just now before you start on the second, whatever it might be next.

I got myself a single room for the next five days. The room was big enough for six patients. There was a large cabinet with drawers and a television in it, a window with Ipoh town view, a toilet and a shower, a set of settee and a bed of course. I had 2 attending doctors, one old Chinese specialist and one young and new Indian doctor, both male. My platelet count was less than 35,000 and my haematocrit was totally a mess.

The days were so boring that I started to move around the blocks, pulling along my IV drip bag hanger with me. I chatted with a number of nurses, doctors and even patients. At night I read my own chart and predicted changes that might happen during the next update.

At every 10pm and 6am everyday a nurse the size of a grizzly bear attended me for pills and a glass or so of hot Milo drink. She was in and out a nice, gentle lady despite her size. The Indian male doctor came at 8am and later at 6pm everyday to perform routine blood collection, and while he was at it we usually chat like usual buddies.

"So how’s your day, mate?" I asked him out of the blue.

"Like usual la. Nothing much. Boring day la cha."

"Uh huh?"

He applied my arm with some iodine and alcohol. Then he continued,

"Last time when I was in general hospital, it was always busy you know."

"Is it?"

"Ya la cha. There was one time la I attended a heart attack patient. Came in an ambulance. ’twas Hectic."

"MI? So what you did? Angio, ECG? How’s his echo like? His CK?"

"Cannot proceed la cha. He died la. Eh how you learned all these la macha?"

That was how he knew that my story. All about my attempts to study medicine despite my real study in engineering. He got interested and he usually came to my room chatting with me when he had nothing to do. On the last day, the day I was discharged he told me to proceed with my study and do not let anyone stop me.

"It’s your thing la cha. Who knows one day you will save a life too."

I took his advice and I started all over again, this time with musculoskeletal system. I started to give a lot of attention again into my long lost ambition field - Obstetric & Gynecology. No, please, do not get me wrong. I did not see O&G in a sexual way but I saw it as beautiful, mysterious and interesting. Slowly I gained back my confidence, and I never have looked back anymore.

Up till today I have encountered many who consulted me for advice. Well, if I could help, I would. So far the most interesting real case I have ever encountered was Menorraghea in a 21 years old female.

And then another dilemma; I started to develop interest towards female medical students. I started to admire. and in a way getting my way closer to these female future doctors from various medical institutes, in a hope for a relationship.

But as usual the past haunts me until today. No matter how hard i try to sweep away the feelings and the truth that I am an engineering student, I could never ever get away from it. And this prevented me so bad from getting my way into attracting any of the medical students I met physically and virtually. When I started talking to them, I have to admit that I get uneasy and nervous, worrying about their perspectives towards me. The way they look at me, picturing me in dirty coverall clouded with dirt, hydraulic oils, metal dusts and wax, holding a big spanner in my smelly leather-gloves protected hand and a crumpled bunch of blueprint plans in another. Covered in sweat under the hot sun, with my hard hat on and my goggle protecting my view from the contradicting conditions of those clean, white coats.

Because I’m just an engineer.

Zahirah Yang Nakal

Saya telah dikenakan oleh Cik Zahirah Lesung Pipit yang sekarang belajar di Bangalore, India.



TAG 1

7 Ciri Perempuan Idaman Saya

  • Hidung lurus mancung, bermuka ketat, gigi yang putih bersusun dan berkulit putih mulus
  • Lebih muda
  • Smart, intelligent jugak
  • Sabar dan loyal jugak
  • Independent but partially still dependent to me. Otherwise aku jadi useless. Mana boleh!
  • Tak kisah sangat (bukan tak kisah langsung) aku kerja sampai lewat malam dan hisap rokok macam bakar rumah
  • very warm personality and worth the relationship


7 Perempuan yang pernah saya minati

  • cikgu matematik sekolah rendah ( x minat dah kat dia sebab dia kawen time darjah 2)
  • budak sebelah meja yang duduk sama-sama dari tingkatan 1 sampai 3 ( x minat dah sebab tak tau ada kat mana sekarang)
  • kakak jual waffle kat Giant (pun dah lenyap)
  • bos member masa internship. chun ok. (dah kawen. sigh)
  • budak pompuan jumpa masa perkhemahan tentera di Terendak dulu (sekarang jadi army intelligence. nak mampus?)
  • kakak kedai kek kat KL (tiba2 ada cincin dekat jari lepas sebulan)
  • junior kat UTP (em..dia ni slow sikit. Pentium 1 agaknya)


7 perasaan sekiranya keluar dengan orang yang diminati

  • rasa macam power. ha ha ha
  • anxious. sekejap cek seluar. sekejap betulkan kolar. sekejap lap muka. sekejap bersihkan shoulder.
  • tenang beb. rilek je.
  • terasa jadi the alpha dog pun ada
  • tiba-tiba terasa energetic walaupun baru habis jogging 3 kilometer
  • terasa macam jadi Napoleon pun ada sikit-sikit
  • takut. sebab selalu kena cubit.


7 tempat istimewa yang ingin dilawati bersama orang yang tersayang

  • Mekah-Madinah-Kaherah-Kabul
  • 3-days-2-nights Star Cruise vacation
  • Gunung Kinabalu-Genting-Fraser
  • Long journey Train trip
  • London
  • Sipadan-Perhentian-Kapas-Tioman

7 barangan/sesuatu istimewa yang mungkin dihadiahkan buat orang tersayang

  • cincin belah rotan sepasang, cincin batu 2 pasang
  • kereta comel molek buat dia pakai jalan-jalan
  • sehelai evening dress warna krim
  • skuter warna pink
  • piggyback ride
  • kaseh sayang~~
  • baby. boleh tak? hee

7 Lagu yang anda nyanyikan untuk orang tersayang

  • Ben Harper - Waiting On An Angel (done)
  • Peterpan - Tak Bisakah (done)
  • The Script - The Man Who Can't Be Moved (err..tunggu dulu)
  • Eric Clapton - Tears In Heaven (blom)
  • Flop Poppy - Cinta (done)
  • Krisdayanti - Menghitung Hari (done)
  • Son By Four - A Puro Dolor (blom)

TAG 2
1. Take a recent CUTE photo of yourself.
2. Don't change anything, edit or whatever.
3. Post that photo.
4. Post this instructions with the photo.
5. Tag 10 people to do this.


Gambar nak pergi symposium postgraduate

Saya tag semua di dalam list blog saya. That includes you, Tun Mahathir! Ha ha ha x)

Inspiration: How I See It

Recently I posted an entry with the title 'Selamat Tinggal Dunia'. Those who have seen it but cannot recall, it was the post with a suicidal Elmo picture. Yes, yes, the red fluffy thing hung by a rope at its neck.

Those who followed my other blog which is my Friendster Blog may recall that I once posted the same entry long ago, precisely sometime in 2004. It was a picture with dark background, enchanted with various sizes of talk bubbles saying this and that, wanting me to attend to them at once. At the middle of the picture is a teddy bear holding a razorblade, with its head detached from the body. Basically it committed suicide due to the extension of building pressure. It could not take it anymore.

Two different posts, same message.

But there was this one lady who came to me saying that I copied the art. This refers to the Elmo post, minus the Elmo. Yes, I admitted that I was inspired with her entry, hence the posting I did in my own blog. I could not find the post I did before in my Friendster Blog because I once deleted the blog and started over again without saving the entries.

She contacted me with warm greetings and everything, and she mentioned about the post. I admitted and I said sorry, which then resulted into a solution - "Lets turn this into a start of a friendship," she said. I insisted to remove the blog entry because as an engineer we were all thought about work ethics in very detail. And of course plagiarism is not an acceptable mistake.

"It's okay. Leave it there. Just credit it to me," she replied. And I did.

* * *

I woke up this morning to see that she posted an entry with a title that shocked me. I might be brutal-looking and I did a lot of shits already and all but I would never put an omen onto somebody, a curse of killing (even when I don't mean to kill them). Especially over a post.

I feel upset and discontented. I have been with copyright issues even more terrible than this. My photographs were used over the internet without permission, even my style of photography was copied directly without me knowing. My poems and short stories were taken and republished without any credits to me.

But I never actually went all upside down. In fact I was happy because I know that people out there is appreciating my work. I inspire them.

Probably we are just as different.

* * *

To you who I have had wronged;

I am sorry for using the concept you created. I am pretty sure I have lost you a million dollar contract with Prentice Hall book producers already. Or probably your seat next to John Grisham over the New York bestsellers award.

Maybe you forget why you do not receive as much. Maybe you forget that you do not give as much. Maybe you forget that is why.

I followed you blog because you are a good writer. But too bad I did not know the character.

Anyway Between Dirty Greasy Hands and Clean White Coats is a short story I wrote back then during my final year. It is nothing related to anybody here, especially you. You can have the URL of the original post here: Friendster Blog

Now let's quit the drama and move on. Next post would be the second episode.


Between Dirty Greasy Hands and Clean White Coats

I have always been this prejudiced against medical students.

In case you wonderful students of medicine are now starting to lose your temper on me, I suggest you to calm down and finish reading the whole article. You are taught to read lengthy documents and journals after all.

I have been with engineering for six years now and probably for the next few decades. It would be nasty of me to say that I do not love the engineering field now, but I did feel so when I was in the first and second year of engineering program here in UTP, which technically was three to four years back.

I am always fancied by medicine. Back in the secondary school I scored my biology paper like an expert when almost the whole class averagely scored between the range of numbers usually depicted as ‘any number that explains the age of human from infant years to mid life crisis’. My score usually started from ‘mid life crisis to death due to very old age.’

I underwent my biology lesson personally with one notorious biology teacher ever in MRSM Jasin until he was replaced by somehow a younger lady teacher soon after we ended form four. This teacher, the much older notorious one, was a man of wonderful ideas. Under his supervision I started to study blood cultures, skin pigment, cells structure and other profound studies related to that of deeper biology none be taught in the syllabus of higher secondary school biology class.

When he left while we were about to start our form five and had himself replaced with the lady teacher, I found her entirely useless for my study of human body. She was a wonderful teacher indeed; young, fresh from teaching school, and relevantly educated to the standard of being a Biology teacher. That was where the problem lies; she was only entitled her life to teach whatever it was in our syllabus but nothing beyond.

So I had to study medicine by myself. Oftentimes seen in the library during morning break, lunch hour and prep hours, I dug through piles of medical-related journals, documents, books, notes, graphical representations and other materials I took to be relevant to feed my curiosity in medical wonders. I made my own black book of knowledge where I jotted down endless notes about biology and medicine but somehow I lost the book some years later.

In Jasin there was this room with an exhibition part of it made from glass as its wall so people could take a look a whatever the put inside it. There were jars of preserved carcasses of animals; rabbits, mice, insects, snakes and other things as well. But the only thing that always made me curious was this fetus; a 5 weeks old human fetus in formalin liquid stored in a small bottle about an inch and a half tall. Every day I spent my evening time looking continuously at it wondering about its past stories; why was he not developing, reasons he was aborted, what was going on et cetera.

When I was at home while my mom prepared the chicken freshly bought off the market shelf, I took its organs and started my own procedures on the heart, the liver and the lungs.

There were this time when my uncle was hosting a wedding and two goats were slaughtered for the feast when I was caught red handed trying to open up one of the stolen goat’s head with a hammer, a wood drill and a pipe saw in a way of conducting my own necropsy procedure. Well I did not need to go sterile since the ‘patient’ was already pronounced dead the time I got the head, and I was trying to drill into the 'patient’s’ skull before opening them up using the crown cut method. Plus it was just a goat. I was already inspecting the Dura Mater and about to proceed with the saw when my patient’s head was dispossessed from me by the slaughter house crew, only to see the head ended up on a pile of smoldering coal to be ‘appropriately processed for delicacy purposes‘.

Earlier on I was suggesting Y-shaped incision procedure on the freshly murdered carcass, only to be chased away by the way too regular to be large and casually brutal local slaughter crew guy who continued with vertical cut instead and later seized my patient’s head from me to feed his own belly. From that moment onward I saw him as my potential T-shaped incision experiment material and also the best test item for testicle removal via dismemberment procedure.

Later in the years when I registered in UTP as a student under the Bachelor (Honor) Degree of Mechanical Engineering program, I could have never forgive myself for not pursuing my study in medicine. I was previously offered for a matriculation program and later a few offer from various medical schools that were willing to accept me as their future medical practitioner. But the obligations, too many of them, prevented me to further proceed.

A series of complete frustration clouded my days as I saw many of my friends, no offense but some of them did not even have a strong foundation of biology and chemistry back at school but were somehow accepted to be into the medical schools all around the entire globe. Yes, a few of you were geniuses which I did not really have doubts in, which is, good. Yes, good, I guess. Even more frustrating was when I heard some of the people who were handpicked for the medical program screwed pretty bad and failed to proceed entirely due to ridiculous self-expressionism, out-of-control behavior and culture shock, having them expelled for good from their respective medical schools.

Wholly disappointed I have taken aback quite badly for some time until I took an effort to study medicine by myself. I started downloading endless number of journals and articles about medicine off the net and studied them at night. I went to the huge library we have here in UTP and started reading on basic anatomy and clinical procedures while my friends were studying metallurgy and laboratory procedures. I flipped pages on medical handbook over and over while my friends flipped their ‘Rules of Thumb for Mechanical Engineers’ handbook.

And I started to make friends with medical students. And that's when things started to grind my gears.

Constantly seen as totally below the average class to being a medical student, I often received many disappointing treatments from various med students I have communicated with. Many, though not all, saw me as incompetent, knowledge-wise empty, and never to excel with medicine facts.

I still remember the day when this one time I was chatting with a dearly young girl, not even 20 that time, on cardiac problems. She got it wrong on the catheterize procedure, and as I was correcting her, she cut me off and said to me the for ever remembered line of prejudice:

"What do you know anyway. You’re just an engineer. You can only fix machines. Why bother about human body? We both know why you ended up being an engineering student and I on the other hand med student. Because you were never able to reach our level."

An engineer. Just an engineer.

I did not let out even a single word nor I executed a full scale catastrophic attack on her by showering her endlessly with my wonderful vocabulary of curses and swear words. Instead I sat down on the bed leaning against the wall with my legs fully straightened, holding my book I bought using my pocket money at a secondhand bookstore, entitled The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Anatomy and Physiology.

As I flipped the front page I could still see the fading handwriting that anyone could barely read. It says, ‘To whoever this book ends up with, I wish you well and I hope you will keep this book next to your heart. Take a good care of it, and I hope one day you will become a good doctor. Signed, M.F.S, MBBS Manipal.

I hugged it next to my chest and I my heart cried silently inside (I lived alone back then so it was OK to sit alone in despair without having my pride slashed into pieces) on my bed inside my dark room, none of the lights but the study lamp was on.

Maybe I am an idiot anyway.


p/s: keep feeding your egoistical facade. maybe it helps that way.

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Let's Put It This Way

Whoever who sent me messages using Yahoo Messenger at any time yesterday and today, my apologies if you did not receive any reply from me.

As usual UTP internet connection was, and still, saddening. Very, very disappointing to know that the state of the network still owns its bad reputation despite every effort to maintain and improvise the system into something remarkable and worth an appraisal or two.

As for Farah, I did send you lines of replies, only to be greeted later by the famous 'you are no longer connected to the network' notification. So I am so sorry for that, really.

Add me at Gtalk instead alright, people?

Tuesday, January 13, 2009

It Comes, Now & Feeling Matthew.

Less than seven days to my birthday.

I do not know whether I should be happy or otherwise.

In fact I feel a little scared.

The questions of commitment. The questions of making fortunes. The implications of unwilling responsibility. The advancement of unfruitful plans. The halts of unfinished business.

The quest of being successful gets to me hard this time.

Maybe I am just too afraid of the future.

Mathematically, my life will be as successful. Flourishing fortunes, highest distinctions in academic, major technology holder in alternative energy and power engineering, et cetera. Everything is taken into account, and the algorithm fits perfectly. If I follow my 5-year plan carefully, everything will be fine.

But as always, life is never an ideal system. Too many affecting factors, too many random variables, too many unexpectedness. And every mathematician knows that any number, prime or not, even or odd, as long as it is multiplied with a factor value of other than 1, the result will be ultimately different.

And this differences in results could mean a disaster in the making. Don't get me started on the Risk Factor Calculation by means of proximate probability methods.

It is scary. Very.

* * *

So it's my birthday.

I wonder how it will turn out this time.

Will I get any present this time? Of designer label items, la viva collections of authentic accessories that cost hundreds of dollars like some kids get from their parents and friends?

Will I ever be thrown a surprise party? With cakes, candles and hugs, friends and kegs all over and around?

Will I ever get sincere birthday wishes? From people around who actually care rather than wishing me because they need to, or because they have any other discreet agenda that in the end will put me into the position of being the only victim?

I do not put much hope anyway. And I do not ask much.

All I wanted is just happiness. Stop taking painkillers. Stop being in stressful conditions. Stop losing confidence over and over. Stop running around providing people with their needs and get nothing in return, not even a token of appreciation. Stop chasing the lights.

I hate the lights. I hate the lights.
Matthew Paulina, I am thinking of it. The game. I want to play the game. The game of a table a razor blade, two chairs and an empty room.

Only this time, the rules say I win.

* * *


Butterfingers
- Faculties of Mind -

It's gonna be a fifty-fifty treatment
You'd be in and never outdoor
You'd be king long lost forgotten

It's gonna take a while i once remembered
There were lies i used to tell her
Hidden secrets make it rotten

On and on the days go on
And on and on for what i made wrong
Fall this time the times are useless
Have you been through wonderful minds?

Shout out loud the ants are coming
There's a thought that ever was
Once again and not forever

On and on the days go on
And on and on for what i made wrong
Fall this time the times are useless
Have you been through wonderful minds?

All the things you do you would do know
All the things you said you would say now
All the dreams come true in the meanlum

Have you been through wonderful minds?


p/s: saksikan Butterfingers Sesi Istana Budaya pada 17-18 Januari 2009. Long live royalbutterfingers.

Welcome back, Students! & The Tale of a Research Engineer.


The semester will start in less than a week now. Welcome back, students, to the academia of engineering for this current semester, January 2009 session.

"Do you have what it takes to go in there?"


This semester I will be teaching 2 subjects, and assist 3 others.

I will be teaching Physics I and Chemistry II, both using the empirical method of teaching, by means of physical experiments and observations. Which means I am seeing more than 20 headcounts in each of my classes. Four slots totaling roughly 80 students with plus-minus ten percent contingency.

I already have 3 FYP students - final year students that are running their one year duration Final Year Project - from last semester under my co-supervision, and I am expected to get another one or two more. My tasks are to supply them with adequate knowledge prior to their technology in interests, assist them with the engineering works and provide them my expertise in the energy field.

I will as well assist the ETP committee as the Document Master, some sort of book keeper who handles the data of more than 400 students who enrolled into Engineering Team Project subject this semester.

Other than that, I was asked personally by Dr Rohani to assist her in Human Resource Management, also as the Document Master. I may be called to assist her in monitoring tests too.

Today I was officially enrolled into a Research Team from Chemical Engineering Department to assist them with briquetting - a method to densify loose particles of matter - and am expected to start work immediately to prepare the briquettes by February since the team is participating in a national and international exhibitions.

Moving along, I am now still pushing the limit in order to prepare for a symposium which was scheduled to be on this Friday. I will be presenting my works so far in front of two senior lecturers - both are PhD holder, both are foreign - from Mechanical Engineering Department. One of them is Prof. Dr. Vijay R. Raghavan, the smartest guy in Mechanical Engineering Department, and as well as the most feared for his ability to notice even the slightest mistake in the project concepts.

I am seeing my biomass gasifier - a reactor that burns biomass under controlled oxyygen environment to produce flammable hydrogen and carbon monoxide gases to be used as both spark-ignition and compression engine fuel - to be finalized by the end of the month so that the construction can commence shortly after the starts of February. In April, it should have been ready for experimentations et cetera.

* * *

Some of my known associates oftenly teasing me for doing master's degree, when they have been travelling the globe into many engineering facilities, including plants and oilrigs. Sure, they make a lot of money (and high payment in tax too) while I do not (but my payment is tax-free).

But what I hardly accept was when they started to poke me by saying that working in laboratories was out of challenge and was no engineering at all. Being an egoistical man with virtues, my answer was:

"Sure. The difference between us is that your work is more challenging because you need to follow certain procedures precisely in order to ensure that the work is done as expected. This involves a lot of hardwork - you need to be extra careful, you need to read the procedures over and over, and you need to follow whatever the procedures instruct you to - and this will always burn you out and make your life miserable and depressed. And these kinds of procedures,"

(with cynical smile)

" I make them in the lab."

Trust No One

It is always amusing to know that I write better when I am stressed up.

A few unfortunate occasions today led me into believing that Fox Mulder was right.


"You know you should trust no one."


But there is one thing, the only thing I have always wanted to do all this while. All this time. Since I was exposed to science, and still am.


I just want to.



So make me.

Friday, January 09, 2009

Coke dan Botol di Buntut

"Anney. Neslo tarik unne, pere gelas aaa. Sapade, roti kosong unne," kata aku pada pekerja bangsa India tu.

Suasana kedai mamak yang nyaman. Tengok kiri tengok kanan. Tak ada orang. Masih awal pagi. Tapi masih sudah suntuk untuk bersiap sebelum masuk kerja pukul lapan.

Datang dua orang merpati sejoli. Duduk di meja sebelah. Jantan hensem. Perempuannya, hm, boleh-lah. Pakai skirt ketat paras lutut dengan jaket executive. Orang korporat agaknya. Yang jantan pakai sama macam aku. Baju putih, seluar hitam, neck tie. Cuma yang bezanya neck tie aku ada dalam poket dan lengan baju aku dilipat.

"Teh panas?" Muncul seorang mamak bersama segelas teh panas, sebotol Coke dan segelas besar Neslo tarik bertanyakan aku.

"Ille, ille. Neslo tarik." Dan terhidanglah Neslo itu di depan mata aku bersama roti canai yang tiba sekali.

Teh panas dan Coke itu ke meja sebelah. Pagi-pagi buta dah minum Coke perempuan ni. Senggugut nanti baru kau tau.

Aku mula makan dan minum. Sebab lapar, tiga kali suap saja dah habis roti canai tadi. Sambil bersandar aku nyalakan rokok di bibir. Dari jelingan mata aku, terlihat jantan tadi sedang menghembus nafas dari mulut ke bibir gelas teh panasnya. Dan perempuan itu mula-lah.

"Eh you. Tak elok tau tiup air guna mulut."

"Panas sangat la."


"Iya la. Sabar la sikit. Tiup pakai surat khabar ke apa ke. Tapi jangan pakai mulut."


"Kenapa?"


"Nanti nafas you akan form a layer of carbonic acid dekat air tu. Nafas you kan ada karbon dioksida. Takkan you nak minum asid?"



"Ini bukan sakit perut lagi dah yang. Ini dah lain macam dah ni."


Terus lelaki itu letakkan gelasnya ke meja. Bijak. Genius. Berjaya buat lelaki tersebut berfikir tentang fakta kimia pada pukul 7.40 pagi di barisan meja kedai mamak.

Tapi yang aku hairan, perempuan itu boleh pula minum Coke yang dah tentu berasid sebab ada kola. And the punch line? Coke is a goddamn carbonated drink! Don't you know why they call it carbonated?! Have ever wondered why Mentos reacts with Coke to release vast amount of gases around, you smart dear?!



In. Your. Face.


Ahahahahaha LOL

Wednesday, January 07, 2009

Jangan Tamak

Semua orang nak duit, kan?

Tapi macam-macam alasan. Tak tau-lah, malas-lah, tak ada masa-lah, banyak masalah-lah, apa-lah. Fine.

Anda student. Apa anda boleh buat untuk mula cari duit?

1. Akaun ASB.
Buka simpanan dengan RM100. Bulan-bulan masukkan RM50. Hujung tahun anda akan ada ((RM50 x 11) + (RM100)) = RM 650. Anda untung dari segi dividen dan bonus, tahun ini 8.75 peratus.

2. Akaun Fixed Deposit
Buka simpanan dengan RM50 untuk jangkamasa 3 atau 6 atau 12 bulan. Maknanya dalam masa 3 bulan (katakan anda nak simpan untuk jangkamasa 3 bulan) ini, duit anda akan digunapakai oleh pihak bank untuk perniagaan mereka, dan lepas 3 bulan mereka akan kasi balik duit pada anda. Kira anda beri pinjaman pada mereka-lah! Masukkan bulan-bulan RM50. Anda untung 2 hingga 6 peratus.

3. Mula berniaga kecil-kecilan
Budak universiti mesti ada keperluan. Apa keperluan yang mereka perlukan? Fikir-fikirkan. Tapi saya bagi senario ini:

Kawan-kawan kampus perlukan keropok untuk makan malam-malam. Anda beli keropok secara bundle, RM0.70 sebungkus kalau beli 50 bungkus. Modal RM0.70 x 50 = RM35.00. Anda jual RM1.00 setiap bungkus. Anda untung RM0.30 setiap bungkus. Total profit anda adalah RM0.30 x 50 = RM15.00.

Itu kalau anda jual benda yang untung 30 sen. Kalau untung RM1.00 satu item? Kalau RM5.00 satu item?

Tapi jangan tamak. Orang kita ini cepat tamak. Bulan ini jual RM1.00 sebungkus keropok. Mentang-mentang permintaan banyak, bulan depan naikkan harga RM1.20 sebungkus. Mana orang tak lari? Lepas tu salahkan member lain yang jual keropok pada harga RM1.10 sebungkus. Apahal?

Belajar target profit. Katakan anda nak kumpul RM60.00. So anda jual keropok 4 bulan saja. Jangan tamak. Target profit RM60.00 tapi nak shoot sampai RM120.00 sedangkan masa tak ada. Agak-agak dah capai target, stop. Buat benda lain pulak.

Paham?

Korang Rasa Aku Cheap Ke?

.
Dulu aku tak pernah kisah pasal duit. Bukan sebab aku banyak duit tapi sebab aku rasa aku boleh hidup dengan hanya berbekalkan apa yang ada.

Aku belanja apalah sangat.

Kasut-kasut aku terdiri daripada kasut Reebok putih yang aku beli masa first year dulu (tahun 2003), kasut hitam DC (2006), kasut putih Vans (2008), Nike Air imitation (2004), basketball shoes jenama Line7 (dah bertampal-tampal), running shoes jenama Power (bapak bagi sebab dia tak muat) dan kasut kulit hitam (2002 pakai masa form 5).

Minyak wangi aku pun cuma sekali je yang beli paling mahal. Azzaro Chrome, dekat RM240 sebotol masa tu (tahun 2007). Sampai hari ni pakai baru setengah botol. Jimat beb. Lain-lain cuma perfume imitation murah, dan minyak wangi Avon sebab mak aku dulu dealer Avon.

Jam tangan cuma pernah beli sekali pakai duit sendiri. Jam Polo. Pakai 4 tahun sebelum terjatuh dalam dry dock masa internship. Lepas tu bapak aku kasi jam yang dia dapat sempena hadiah pencen dari jabatan sebab dia tak muat pakai jugak. Dah 3 tahun pakai. Pernah jugak beli jam Vincci imitation. 2 bulan pakai, dia bunuh diri.

Komputer yang aku pakai sekarang pun sejak aku first year sampai sekarang tak bertukar ganti.

Baju-baju aku semua beli di Jusco atau Tesco. Baju putih plain pakai dengan jeans beli masa discount. Jeans-jeans aku sekarang semua dah berumur lebih 2 tahun. No. Actually semua seluar aku dah berumur lebih 2 tahun. Tapi aku selesa pakai dan aku tak nampak apa sebab kenapa aku kena beli baru.

Aku cuma banyak berbelanja pada buku-buku. Majalah. Reader's Digest. National Geographic. Etc.

Aku potong rambut pun di kedai mamak. Dulu ada jugak mak aku bawak pergi saloon yang ada amoi seksi pakai seluar pendek dalam kedai aircond potong rambut aku yang kadang-kadang tergesel peha dekat lengan.

Aku makan apalah sangat. Kasi aku nasik dengan telur goreng mata kerbau dan kicap manis, aku dah hidup.

Kenapa aku hidup sampai macam tu sekali?

* * *

Aku kenang mak bapak aku.

Aku tau diorang kena sara adik aku yang belum lepas universiti lagi. Walaupun aku tau yang mak bapak aku tu bukanlah miskin sangat tapi apalah salahnya kalau aku bantu diorang dari segi kewangan dengan tidak membuatkan mereka menggunakan wang ringgit semata nak enjoykan hidup aku.

Aku pun pernah marah mak aku sebab belikan baju Monsiuer Nicole yang dekat RM300 lebih. Nak buat apa beli mahal-mahal? Sebab ada designer label, macam tu? No sorry. Aku tak reti nak pakai benda macam tu, dan aku akan rasa tak sedap sebab benda tu dibeli bukan menggunakan duit hasil kerja aku sendiri.

Jaket-jaket yang mak aku pernah belikan untuk aku dulu, aku kasi kat adik aku. Ada jenama Sub dan Camel Active. Biarlah dia pakai. Aku pakai jaket universiti je pun.

Duit diorang boleh digunakan pada benda lain lagi. Aku tak perlu designer label items semua tu. Aku boleh beli sendiri. Lagi puas.

Orang yang mengajar aku hidup macam ni adalah seorang kawan lama. Dia anak orang kaya. Kiranya kau, kau dan kau memang tak ada match la dengan dia. Tapi dia hidup cukup simple. Mak ayah dia nak bawak dia bercuti oversea, dia mati-mati tolak sebab dia nak pergi pakai duit sendiri. Designer labels semua tak ada. Sekarang dia kerja hari-hari sebab nak kumpul duit beli rumah. Last I heard, duit ASB dia dah RM120,000, duit yang dia kumpul sejak kecil plus duit scholar Petronas dan duit kerja dia.

Bila ditanya kenapa dia hidup macam tu, jawapan dia simple saja:

"Aku taknak bebankan mak ayah aku sebab mak ayah tak akan pernah kata 'No' pada kita anak-anak. Dah sampai masa untuk kita jadi matang dan belajar untuk kata 'No' instead."

Hei kau kawan lama, tabik kaki naik ke dahi beb!

So. Korang rasa aku cheap ke? Apa pendapat matang korang?

Wish List 2009

Life has been very difficult lately that I finally decided to pamper myself first thing first in order to fix some major leakage in my own emotional tank. Some may say, that difficulties help a lot in coloring one's canvas, but for me a little too much of those will hit me hard, so hard that I start to lose grip in most things. Oftenly I forget that I need to count my blessings, but how does one define blessing?

For me blessing is just torment in disguise.

But I could take some torment in order to feel how it feels to be rich and famous. So let's take a look at what I wish to have this year:

1. A Silver cuffling and tie pin set by Alfred Dunhill

2. An analogue-digital chronograph engineer edition precision watch by Caterpillar

3. A fine, body cut dark colored suit by G2000

4. A posh black colored leather shoes with wooden base by Salvatore Ferragamo

5. An LG Prada II black edition mobile phone by LG

6. A bottle of Must de Cartier Pour Homme Eau de Toilette Spray by Cartier

7. A Ruthenium Havana sunglasses by Valentino

8. A white colored cotton turtleneck shirt by Versace

9. A summer collection body fit white colored jacket by Louis Vuitton

10. A metallic black M6 serie coupe by BMW

11. A first class cabin return ticket to Gold Coast Australia in a Boieng 747 Jumbo Jet via KLIA - Changi International - Brisbane route by Malaysia Airline

12. A fifteen thousand acres of fresh logging site in the whole Borneo green bay to be exploited into a minimum seven hundred and fifteen million Ringgit by a kickass politician

13. A kick in the face so hard that it knocks me down into a three-day coma only to wake up and realize that all the 12 things listed above are only items derived from my extremely excited imagination which was brought up due to the vast amount of hatred I had towards rich people.



Rich people suck. Boo.



p/s: just let me be childish for once. bless you all. rich people suck. boo

Tuesday, January 06, 2009

Yo Obama! You've Gotta Read THIS, Man

"Siot la lu Obama! Aku tikam kau dengan keris ni karang!"

From the main table of the Perdana Leadership Foundation, Putrajaya, taken digitally from chedet.com;


Dear Mr. President,

I did not vote for you in the Presidential Election because I am Malaysian.

But I consider myself one of your constituents because what you do or say will affect me and my country as well.

I welcome your promise to change. Certainly your country, the United States of America need a lot of changes.

That is because America and Americans have become the best hated people in the world. Even Europeans dislike your arrogance. Yet you were once admired and liked because you freed a lot of countries from conquest and subjugation.

It is the custom on New Year's day for people to make resolutions. You must have listed your good resolutions already. But may I politely suggest that you also resolve to do the following in pursuit of Change.

1) Stop killing people. The United States is too fond of killing people in order to achieve its objectives. You call it war, but today's wars are not about professional soldiers fighting and killing each other. It is about killing people, ordinary innocent people by the hundreds of thousands. Whole countries will be devastated.

War is primitive, the cavemen's way of dealing with a problem. Stop your arms build up and your planning for future wars.

2) Stop indiscriminate support of Israeli killers with your money and your weapons. The planes and the bombs killing the people of Gaza are from you.

3) Stop applying sanctions against countries which cannot do the same against you.
In Iraq your sanctions killed 500,000 children through depriving them of medicine and food. Others were born deformed.

What have you achieved with this cruelty? Nothing except the hatred of the victims and right-thinking people.

4) Stop your scientists and researchers from inventing new and more diabolical weapons to kill more people more efficiently.

5) Stop your arms manufacturers from producing them. Stop your sales of arms to the world. It is blood money that you earn. It is un-Christian.

6) Stop trying to democratize all the countries of the world. Democracy may work for the United States but it does not always work for other countries.

Don't kill people because they are not democratic. Your crusade to democratize countries has killed more people than the authoritarian Governments which you overthrew. And you have not succeeded anyway.

7) Stop the casinos which you call financial institutions. Stop hedge funds, derivatives and currency trading. Stop banks from lending non-existent money by the billions.

Regulate and supervise your banks. Jail the miscreants who made profits from abusing the system.

8) Sign the Kyoto Protocol and other international agreements.

9) Show respect for the United Nations.

I have many other resolutions for change which I think you should consider and undertake.
But I think you have enough on your plate for this 2009th year of the Christian Era.
If you can do only a few of what I suggest you will be remembered by the world as a great leader. Then the United States will again be the most admired nation. Your embassies will be able to take down the high fences and razor-wire coils that surround them.

May I wish you a Happy New Year and a great Presidency.

Yours Sincerely,

Dr Mahathir bin Mohamad
(Former Prime Minister of Malaysia)

And again Che Det saves the day. Seems like the former Prime Minister still care not only for his nation but others as well. Good job, very well done.

But where the hell is our current Prime Minister anyway?


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