Monday, August 30, 2010

Everybody these days require some bits of entertainment just to keep their sanity. These entertainments most commonly cover from many regular (watching TV, listening to the radio, playing musical instruments) to non-regular types (goin' pimping, killing, sadomasochistic activities) though the latter, as today's law rules out, are legally forbidden for practice regardless of the number of people who find them to be pretty interesting to be carried out. The needs for entertainment usually vary from one another based on one's personality.

Other than being avidly excited about music, from which some years back I happened to sell my soul to the devil for neverending lifetime musical entertainment supply, I also happened to like to watch drama series that the mainstream medias today are practically having quite an uncontrolled spillover in showing them minute after another.

Despite my huge admiration towards love and romance and the likes, I must state that I literally have found that most of the drama series depicting the mentioned ideas to be not only cheesy but as well dramatically unnerving, for, as I formerly observed, there were too many scenes where the audience was brought to experience states of events where commonly in the real world do not occur much, hence bringing the illusion of false hopes. For example lets take a look at Grey's Anatomy. I choose not to point out the wrongs in the fairly celebrated drama series especially by female audience and end up offending them, where in this case I have been clearly informed that swimming in the middle of the Pacific with a dozen of hungry Great Whites catching up on you from behind is way, way easier than to dealing with a mob of angry females. Nevertheless I am pretty sure that most of us know how Grey's Anatomy affect the cultural beliefs today, especially in the hearts of hopeless women, ergo the huge amount of disappointments later experienced by the mentioned group prior to having the beliefs first introduced to them by none other than the epically produced drama series Grey's Anatomy.

I have watched quite frankly a huge number of drama series since my undergraduate years, for I found that sitting in front of the computer screen watching these series while having almost endless supplies of hot coffee, cigarettes and cookies all day long was way too irresistible to not to pursue with - a terrible mistake that caused me to repay the lost days by now having to offer not only my soul to the expanding world of academias but as well enslave myself as an offering to hungry academicians who never miss a chance to criticize me, academically. But from these mountain worth of series, I only found two of them to be wonderfully entertaining to me.

They are House M.D. and The Big Bang Theories. But we're not talking about House today, that grumpy, sarcastic old bastard but sincerely way too entertaining to resist.

Smart's the new sexy?

Dr. Sheldon Cooper, or Shelly, has been for long my only favorite character in the series, and of course Penny (You kidding? Who wouldn't like Penny anyway?). Possessing an IQ of 187, Sheldon entered the University of Texas at the age of eleven and left at the age of fourteen, graduating summa cum laude. He began his doctoral work at the age of fourteen, won the Stevenson Award at the age of fourteen and a half (youngest winner ever), worked as a visiting professor at a foreign university when he was fifteen, and later completed his doctoral work at the age of sixteen. He has a master and two PhD's in theoretical physics.

Dr. Sheldon Cooper

According to Wikipedia:

Sheldon is distinctive for his overtly intellectual personality: he is calculating and cynical, he exhibits a strict adherence to routine, a lack of understanding of irony, sarcasm and humor, a habit of constantly expressing admiration for his superior intellect (which is sometimes found offensive by the other characters), and a complete lack of humility; these characteristics are the main sources of his character's humor and the center of a number of episodes. He has been described as the show's breakout character.

Riemann Zeta Functions, random virtual particles in quantum mechanics, String Theory and Born-Oppenheimer Approximation doodling around to no end.

Now this guy, he does not only amuse me for having such inexcusably high IQ, he also possesses quite a humorous amount of wit, not to mention his staggering amount of sarcasm and sharp insults whenever he gets his mouth open. Not that I look forward to be such creepily outstanding guy, intelligence wise per se, but I admire the beauty of his knowledge. Imagine, that impressive amount of knowledge in just one head quite the similar size with mine. On the part that we both share the same career - research - though we travel in totally different ways of researching - he is theoretical while I am experimental - I enjoy the fact that he somewhat supplies me with amusing jokes of science and technology, much to my surprise could at times be applied to my full understanding in science itself. 

Dr Sheldon Cooper; now that man's a real bomb.

Let's end this with one of Dr Cooper's best quote to Penny on whether or not she should go out with Leonard (his roommate):

"Anyway, in 1935 Erwin Schrodinger, in an attempt to explain the Copenhagen interpretation of Quantum Physics, he proposed an experiment where a cat is placed in a box with a sealed vial of poison that will break open at a random time.Now, since no one knows when or if the poison has been released, until the box is opened, the cat can be thought as both alive and dead.
Just like Schrodinger's cat, your potential relationship with Leonard right now can be thought of as both good and bad. It is only by opening the box that you will find out which it is." 

Sunday, August 29, 2010

"Hello doctor! I'm here for my cunt examination! Ahahahahahahahahahaahahaahha"

I'm a winner, I'm a loser. I am sometimes in between. I'm as bad it can get. And good as it can be. Sometimes I'm a million colors. Sometimes I'm black and white. I am all extremes. Try figure me out you never can. There's so many things I am. I am special - lack of tissue cell. I am wonderful. And powerful. Unstoppable. Sometimes I'm miserable. Sometimes I'm pitiful. But that's so typical of all the things I am. I'm someone filled with self-belief. And haunted by self-doubt. I've got nothing figured out. I like to be by myself. I hate to be alone. I'm up and I am down. But that's part of the thrill. Part of the plan. Part of all of the things I am. I'm a million contradictions. Sometimes I make no sense. Sometimes I'm perfect. Sometimes I'm a mess. 

Sometimes I'm not sure who I am.

I have a great deal of affection towards sunset.

I cannot say that I am pretty much a day person. As far as I could easily observe, I am fairly comfortable at night. I function better at night; my mind is at its sharpest and clearest when the surrounding is dark, here meaning I don't need to pay extra attention to details around me, hence my ability to be more focused on things I at the time am currently up to.

But of course, night will not land until the sun sets in. And this moment is p
articularly my favorite, second to my most favorite night time. I admire sunset a lot, and I have spent quite a staggering amount of hours sitting on the dead soil of the earth doing nothing but to stare at the beauty that showed as our solar center star descended towards the horizon. 

I would like to share some of the photos I took back in the days that gave quite an impact in my life. Remember, every picture has its stories. But bear in mind too that knowing this as a fact is one thing, to interpret and fully understand the story it tells is another.

So here goes.

* * *


The picture above was taken on a tripod at UTP main lake during one beautiful sunset. The model was me myself. This happened to be my favorite spot for years until I found another spot somewhere along the way. It was fairly isolated and hidden from public view - a perfect place to spend a quiet evening at. 

The Bridge

This picture was taken at a bridge at the main lake. Another good place to sit down, enjoy the sunset and the evening breeze while feeding the many freshwater fishes below it. But during when the semester is open, this place is fairly infested with lovebirds and noisy packs of chit-chatters. 


 Another look at the sunset from behind the massive main lake.


One of my most favorite image of all time, this was one of the very first few picture I took using my Panasonic Lumix. Overlooking the wide open sky with very dramatic spreads of clouds, this picture became an icon of me for quite sometime until when I finally abandon my photo page website sometime back in the days.

One Tree Hill

The one tree hill, literally. This was my favorite spot of all time until the area it was located within was closed for public This tree grew at the middle and the top of a tiny hill somewhere within driving distance from UTP. I used to spend my time alone and with close friends at this place in the afternoon till evening. The tree was shady and the breeze is strong up there. I wonder if it's still there.

Cotton Candy

 Taken from under the tree at one tree hill. See that cotton candy over there? Lovely, isn't it? That's the evening cloud we're looking at. Strange that it looks like that in the image.

Take Me God

Also taken at the One Tree Hill, the image titled 'Take Me God' presents Bhai as the model. This image was very dramatic to me for it resembles more or less myself when I was at the very edge of life - where the ground was shaky, the surrounding was dark to see and the sky was damn too cloudy - that the only thing in my head was to ask for God to bring me back home where I came from,  there came a hand pulling me away from the ledge and redirected me here. 

Strangely enough, the owner of the hand that pulled me back, was God Himself. 

Friday, August 27, 2010

It was a rather warm tropical night in Barbarillos, Wangsa Maju.

I was sitting at a darker end of the premise. With a cup of steaming hot coffee on the table and a lighted cigarette, I was patiently waiting for a very dear darling of mine. I was halfway doing my cigarette when she suddenly popped at the front entrance of the cozy outlet.

"Hello," she said.

She didn't change much since the last time I met her. Still with her pretty hairdo and her sensual smiles, she was still the very much the person I keep dearly in my heart for a very long time now. She placed her tote on an empty chair next to her and took her seat, facing directly at me. And then she pulled that smile again while her fair-skinned fingers played with her long, straight hair. I tapped my cigarette ash into the ashtray and smiled back. 

"Hello, Fiza."

* * *

Today, it has been a year, or so, since I first knew Fiza.

Sazfiza Falak, or better known as Fiza Falak, is the closest darling o' mine that has never failed to amuse me with her neverending wonderful stories. Yes, for those who are still speculating, she is the sister of the nationwide popular Sazzy Falak, so quit it already.

Quite different from Sazzy, Fiza has this thing that so far I still could not properly understand that keeps luring me back to her every now and then when we first knew each other through my blog long ago. Probably it was her charms and still. Fiza is the type of person who is not only warm but very friendly as well, at least to me perhaps. I don't know. But what I know is that Fiza has never turned me down with anything.

Except when she canceled one meetup because of some errands. Pfftt.

The common interests we share are football and coffee. She is an avid Manchester United fan, and so am I. She drinks coffee like nobody's business, and so do I. The first time we met, I was, you know, controlling my intake of coffee just so that I won't get too hyped up, especially because it was around 2.30am in the morning and I had myself lost in Bukit Damansara to find her residence and helped to sneak her out while her parents were sleeping. She ended up making me look like a freaking amateur on coffee. I sincerely looked seriously bad.

A fan who took it way too seriously.

From that first meeting, our relationship grew so well that both of us remain friends (*cough*) until today, though she once bit my arms and left her tooth print that until today puzzled my mom of how did I get such provocative marks, and after that made me scratch her back because she 'couldn't quite reach it'. Ha :D

I had never met such a lady myself, especially when it comes to her cheesiness and her coolness, her playfulness and her naughtiness. Her essence of beauty is of course very astonishing - her exceptionally fair skin and her beautiful hair and her stunning lips and whatnot - these traits made her not only an authentically pretty lady but as well a walking time bomb. Or a water heater - she melts many quite frankly easily.

Being a lady she is, she has natural tendencies to show her motherly talent. She loves kids much to a point that it is not impossible for her to go around playing witch just to kidnap some kids and take them home for herself. 

Even until today, whenever I am back in KL, she will be one of the very few first person that pop in my mind that I should spend some very good quality time with, because I knew she will never bring me down in one way or another. 

Another possible victim. 

As to conclude, Fiza is a very special darling of mine. She has been very supportive during my early days of sorrows, and she helped me through. She gave me the strength I thought I could never will acquire, and she gave me the reason why to stand up and face life at its best. She guided me with her words, with her softness, with her feminine side, and her sensuous smiles. 

She will always be my only and only Bushuk ;)

* * *


This is for you, Bushuk. Thanks for everything you gave me; your supports, your smiles, your laughters, all the hopes that matter, your advices, your faiths in me and your warmth for me. Thank you so much!

Miss you, love you, whatever. XOXO.

p/s: sorry for taking your pictures without your consent. This is for my arms you bit! :D

Thursday, August 26, 2010

I said Hallelujah today in front of the many typical spectators, where here the word typical reflects the type of people who are not only clueless but are also clueless that they are, in fact, clueless. I was singing Rufus Wainwright's Hallelujah.

And as a result, I successfully sparked a very heated argument.

Being someone who respects and enjoys arguments, I was actually looking forward for them clueless people to start bashing me up verbally, especially by coming out with numerous verses in the Koran and in the end sentenced me to eternal summer in hell which, as expected, they did. They called me an unbeliever, an infidel, a kaffir. 

Let's see where this word Hallelujah comes from.

According to Wikipedia;

Hallelujah, Halleluyah and the Latin form Alleluia are transliterations of the Hebrew word הַלְּלוּיָהּ (Standard Halleluya, Tiberian Halləlûyāh) meaning "Praise (הַלְּלוּ) Yahweh (from the first two letters of the Tetragrammaton יהוה) (יָהּ)" and is similar to the Arabic phrase Alhamdulillah, used by Muslims and by Arabic-speaking Jews and Christians. Hallelujah is found primarily in the book of Psalms. The word is used in Judaism as part of the Hallel prayers, and in Christian prayer, particularly in the Catholic Mass. It has been accepted into the English language and has a similar pronunciation in many other languages.

This of course confirm two things: one is that the word Hallelujah is indeed a Jewish word, and that it is widely used in Christian and Jewish prayers. Literally means praise, it carries similar meaning with the Muslim version of the same phrase - Alhamdulillah.

But does saying it makes a Muslim an unbeliever?

People of different races have their own way in expressing their thankfulness towards God, or whatever they take as their Creator, except the atheist, for atheist only believes in nothing and nothing at all when it comes to religion. Nevertheless, the practice of expressing gratitudes towards God has been carried out in entirely too many ways; by praying, praising, offering, killing animals, killing human, getting killed and et cetera. The more extravagant the way the practices are carried out, the more gratitudes is shown, or so it has been thought and taught.

For instance, if you are feeling thankful to God in the smallest degree, you might just slaughter a chicken perhaps in Muslim belief. But if you are feeling too thankful, you might as well just slaughter all the fat polka-dot dairy cows in the whole New Zealand just to show how thankful you are.

But what really matters is whether or not you are really that thankful. As I see it, one can slaughter as many cows as one desires, but to what ending? The purest of thanks is when you thank unconditionally. It is in your heart, of course. You can turn the whole farm into an instant mass slaughter house but if in your heart the gratitudes you have are not that pure, it will carry no meanings at all.

In a more familiar word, it is termed ikhlas.

Same goes for the word Hallelujah, or in some other cases the word 'bye' (so it is said that it literally means 'under the blessings of the Pope') and other Christian/Jewish/Buddhist etc related words. What makes me an unbeliever by uttering the word Hallelujah? What was it in my heart when I spoke the word, did anyone know? What if, maybe, that I uttered the word to express my gratitudes using that word, and nothing else but? Does that make me a kaffir as well? Is it that simple, really?

Talking about kaffir, how easy it is to tell that someone is really one? Talking about heaven and hell, what makes one is entitled to going to any? How do you tell that he or she will go to hell instead of heaven, and the opposite as well?

What gives you the godly power to entitle one to be sent to heaven and hell? Don't we have a God who actually carries out that duty? So why bother being so supreme and play God in a way?

Who are YOU to make such decision?

Think about it.

p/s: I have a Hindu friend who cries out "Jesus H. Christ!" whenever he is amused, and a Christian friend who yells out loud happily "Alhamdulillah" whenever good things happen to him. So, what these make of them?

I don't get it.

At times, we are often mesmerized by the many drama series these days that cover quite large fields of professional careers; medicine, law, law enforcers, military and many others. But have you, yes you people who drive the engineering world today, that there is, as far as I can remember, not even one drama series was directed to depict the daily epics of engineers?

So, who's the new intern again?

On medicine, there are House M.D., Scrubs, and even Grey's Anatomy. On law, there are Law and Order, The West Wing (though kind of political) and L.A. Law. On military there is The Band of Brothers. On law enforcers, there are too many - CSI, Police Story, Criminal Minds, Dexter, and many more. The closest to engineering that I can sense is The Big Bang Theory and perhaps 24, and also Prison Break. 

For local audience, I think Phua Chu Kang could be the closest to engineering, though there is way too little reference on his daily construction work. Plus, he is only a constructor taikor, not an engineer at all in the first place. 

Drain, wall, wires all okay. Jamban got problem, but still can use la, only no water!

So I asked myself why; why there is no such thing on engineering and engineers? Are we not the romantic type? Are we not people? 

Sure, we do have dedicated channels for us engineers in the mainstream media. To name one, say, Discovery Channel. In that channel, we often being served with partially-insane engineers who enjoy driving monster machines, build things up and blow things up. Those documentaries show how difficult an engineer's tasks are, and what kind of stuffs we do just so that the world becomes better each day. 

But what puzzles me is why not these engineers be commemorated as romantic heroes and heroins in epic drama series? So doctors work hard to fight against troublesome diseases in human, so did us - we knock every problem in the smallest of circuit in a microscopic microchip to fixing a kickass-big turbine in super-monstrous-out-of-your-mind big hydroelectric dams. So the law people fight against crime-setters, so did us - we fight cavities and steam erosions and even nuclear disasters everyday. I mean hey, we have our own stuffs to tell too.

But then again, what is there to tell anyway should there be one drama series of such kind one day?

Mom, look what we built!

Let's give this guy Joe a role. Joe is a mechanical engineer whose responsibility is to maintain an offshore production rig facility, 400 nautical-miles off the coast of East Peninsular Malaysia. Situated on top of the carbon-rich Malay Basin, he stays on the rig to make sure that the piping works, production flow, control systems, ventilation system, power generation system and other auxiliary systems are working perfectly in order to maintain production demands each day.

Goddamnit, Joe! I left you for five minutes and this happened! Even a Post-It note makes a better engineer than you do!

So, Joe has a fiancee 500 miles away from him, from which he contacts regularly using the satellite phone or via live conference facility to ease his loneliness. There are troubles each day - broken pipes, failed machines, pipe overpressure, production halt, hot work complications, and even a possible blowout. He uses his specialty and his men to troubleshoot these problems, and at most times he succeeds in doing so, from which his heroism will attract a lot of female executive engineers back onshore and this causes staggering catfights in between those women, his fiancee included. This boosts his ego and the journey continues.

So how would Joe handle all these? Will Joe ever gonna survive the harsh sea conditions? Will his love life continues in smooth sailing? Will he ever go crack like House did?


Fine. No engineer drama series.

* * *

By doing so, you will get a laser-guided security system, home-based monitoring equipment, Tesla Coils automatic armament battery frontier battle guns, remote sensing GPS system with 0.20m accuracy, structure stability fixtures, climate control system, high-end ventilation system, automated fire-prevention system, memory material-made bed and pillows, fully acoustic and sound proof bed chamber and a pleasant, cute and heartwarming pink alarm clock that gives out the sound of a nuclear explosion rather than the usual ringing bell for more sensational and dramatic effect. 

Friday, August 20, 2010

I have a watch.


I used to have a watch that looked exactly like this picture below:

Tag Hueur Mercedez Benz SLR Special Stopwatch Chronograph 17-Calibre Automatic

But prior to the gasification works I discussed earlier in previous blog post, it was very unfortunate that the watch's bracelet rod went off accidentally causing the watch to fall into the gasifier heart and reactor's combustion chamber right away that at the time was operating at full capacity, bearing the temperature up to 1000 degree Celsius.

So this happened:

That is what's left of the unfortunate watch of mine. Previously nicknamed 'Black Beauty', never I thought it will retire from service in this kind of bizarre and ill-fated ending. Nevertheless I will keep the charred skeleton of it in safe, for it was my most beloved watch and it carried a lot of good and well celebrated moments of my life together with its charred remain.

Rest in peace, Black Beauty. I miss you a lot. And I always will.

"Caused some stirrings in you again now did I, darling?"

I did notice, somewhat, that lately certain words of mine have caused certain degree of stirring in some people.

In this case, mostly females.

It is probably have been more than properly understood to the many of you that I have been using some terms of endearment in addressing, also, the many of you. These terms, most commonly 'darling', among any others, have been actively utilized by none other than me when addressing most females (and somewhat, to no possible explanations, males too) in my Twitter and Facebook as to engage in ongoing conversations with them.

Of Anglo-Saxon origin, the term 'darling' shows the ethically affectionate way of addressing someone one is pleased with. For me, I see most of the people I meet as utterly pleasing, until of course they choose to screw the whole concept up by doing something that is in full disagreement with me, from which from the moment thereon they will be mostly addressed as different variant of female canines and varieties of feedlot swines. Never mind the canines and swines; the real matter here is the terms of endearment that I have been using widely.

Never did I realize that the usage of the words have created warmth, envy and jealousy that soon resulted in turmoils of feelings both to the receivers and the ones observing. The terms have caused certain parties to experience certain amount of affections towards me, while the rest rose to be battle-ready for many reasons, one being that they were jealous with each other. Pretty much sounded as if it is too good to be true, but it happened.

Strangely not to Autumn, somewhat. 

The real reason why I address people with the words 'darling, honey, babe, sweetheart' and the likes is simple - it is just a habit of mine. I picked up the habit from the many French and English pieces of written arts and motion pictures where the people casually address one another with terms of endearment to show affection - from the simplest type to beyond love - and I find it pleasing for me to do so as it cuts the gap in between me and the other persons to almost none in the shortest of time possible. This of course for sure allows a better way of communication and release the unnecessary 'strangeness, awkward feelings' often experienced in both communicating parties. 

Therefore, unless properly informed, one that I have been continuously addressed as 'darling, honey, babe, sweetheart' and the likes can now stop the speculation whether or not I am attracted to any of you to a point that mutual feelings grow inevitably at an alarming rate. If I did, like I previously mentioned, thou will be properly notified. I am not the type who give hints out, anyway. 

I hope this totally undesirable and completely disturbing misunderstanding will no longer occur in the future.

Occay sayangs?

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Two years.

Two bloody years until I managed to get this thing working. Imagine, after streaks of endless days and sleepless nights, going through piles and piles of literatures, designing and redesigning the reactors in CAD drawings, continuously failing experiments that never seem to show not even the simplest mercy, months of hardships and damaged mind and heart, I finally am here, where I am successful  at producing synthesis gas - flammable gas consisting of mainly Carbon Monoxide and Hydrogen - from incomplete combustion of oil palm fronds (OPF).

Currently the first to utilize OPF as its main feedstock, the gasifier was the work of my own hands. From design works all the way to fabrication, and then to installation and commissioning and finally to operation phase, I have been with it the whole time. Nothing excited me so much other than to see that the gasifier has finally able to produce synthesis gas at a constant rate after numerous frustrating moments of tweaking, resetting and recalibration. Yesterday at precisely 6.19PM, the gasifier started to produce the gas at a constant rate to overboard where production went almost out of control.

This memorable event did not only commemorate the success of our very own UTP Biomass Gasification Team (OPF) in being able to finally gasifying OPF but also marked a change in the history of UTP Alternative and Renewable Energy Research by being the only research team in the nation and also in the world, formally, to have been using OPF as main feedstock for gas production, and is successful at it.

The events are shown in the following set of videos. The gas, after proper cleaning and refining, is ready to be fed into any internal combustion engine (both spark ignition and compression ignition, or petrol and diesel engines) and consumed as fuel.

Another history written. And I am happy as ever.

The blue flame indicates the existence of hydrogen.

Stable flare achieved.

Just how useless smoke is actually combustible.

This was when the gasifier went out of control and we had to flare all the richly-produced gas.

Super flare, baby.

Another good look at the flare. See how beautiful the flame is.

Monday, August 16, 2010

This entry has no picture that could clearly explain what this entry is all about. Therefore, I will try my very best to come out with very detailed writing in order for the readers to easily visualize things as close as possible to what I could remember. 

And this story includes yet another fascinating event where my balls were once again threatened against their will.

At precisely around 8.00pm yesterday, Miss Neyra Shazeyra and Miss Juliet Anna were stranded in Medan Kidd's intra-state bus station in quite a heavy rain after finding out that they could not get back to Seri Iskandar due to the uninformed change in the bus schedule. Knowing that I could definitely not reject a call for help, they sent me a number of SOS in terms of phone text messages in order to bait my attention to attend to their cries for rescue. 

Let's skip the part where I took bath in a rush that I left the bath before the water drops from the shower were able to land on me. 

Driving in such heavy rain was not a difficulty to me for the windscreen wipers on Natalia, that is a name I recently gave to my Honda to add an effect of affection on her, were quite brand new. Natalia manages to cut travel on the high speed lane at a constant speed of 100km/h unless there were obstacles in front. I kept a distance of n-feet from any vehicle in front of me, where n is any number from the numeric system that directly represents my current speed. That means, if I was travelling at 100km/h, the gap between me and the car/motorbike/lorry/bus/motorboat/Boeing in front of me was kept at 100 feet. This will ensure that I have ample distance to apply on the brake and make a safe stop/escape from any trouble should the car in front changes its speed in a sudden. 

With this maneuver, I was able to get to Medan Kidd in around half and hour. 

After picking the stranded ladies up, who at the time looked so tired and bored and somewhat excited when they saw me, I decided to go to Tesco in order to grab some stuffs and bite something up, for the only thing I had consumed during breakfast earlier was a very decent cup of homemade black coffee and a stick of Virginian tobacco cigarette. This decision resulted to me getting back into the main road that heads towards the center of town, a road that led me to the front of the town's railway station.

As I was getting there, my speed was around 80km/h for that there was no car in front of me. The weather was clear and the rain had stopped. I was very steady at behind the wheel and was very alert to my environment, and I could assure all of you that the road was at its safest condition to travel on except for the wet surface that decreased the efficiency of the tires to grip perfectly. The road, as it was, was very safe.

Until it happened.

As I reached the crossroad just before the train station, out of nowhere came a car - a black Proton Iswara Aeroback - crossing at a perpendicular angle to me from my right, trying to get into the road that leads to the train station on my left, whereby I was already at the time reaching the center of the crossroad. Seeing this, I slammed on the brake, pressed on the horn and maneuvered the steering just so that Natalia won't swerve or roll or rotate or do other various types of impressive acrobatics ever seen made by a car at the cost of its passengers. Natalia missed the goddamn car by merely inches, less than two feet (24 inches), I'd say. Tires were screeching and Natalia went out of course at a small angle causing the car to swerve at a very awkward way but somehow was the reason why it could escape the head-on collision. 

I checked for the cars behind me and saw that two of them went out of course as well as to avoid from hitting Natalia's bottom, which I reckon has to be very rude for Natalia is a girl, and to hit on a girl's bottom is a very rude thing to do unless permitted to. I pressed on the gas, gave a left signal and stopped the vehicle at the side of the road before checking on the car's condition and the passengers' too. Other than being shocked a quarter-way to death and froze in motion, the ladies appeared to be alright. As for me, I was so terrorized that one of my balls actually dropped to the floor of the car and went missing even until now.

I wanted to wait for that idiotic driver to come out at the exit of the train station's compound so that I could stop and bash the hell out of him/her/it but I found it to be utterly unnecessary despite his/her/its driving could kill us some seconds back. I definitely knew that if I went out of the car that moment, things will turn to be very, very ugly and I of course did not want that to happen, for I was wearing my favorite shirt and I was afraid it will get dirty. Plus, I saw one of the avoiding cars behind me just now took a rushing emergency corner into the train station's road, which I assumed was in the pursuit to find that mother-effing car and settle the unfinished business on behalf of me and other innocent drivers. So I drove back into the main lane and made my move.

You could call me a coward if that helps you sleep at night. 

The ladies went way too quiet for some time and later I found out that they were laughing, burping, having hiccups and snorting while in conversations - an indication of a post-incident trauma that caused them to go crack in order to stabilize their shattered emotions and whatnot back to an acceptable level. This continued even until I sent one of the girl back to her colleague's house, a place we all spent an hour or so to find because the colleague kept on telling us to go 'straight, don't corner corner, and nothing but straight only' in order to find her house. We ended up at dead end, a large drain, some smaller drains, someone's house, a football field, a road divider, a restaurant, some pedestrians, a sleeping dog, a cemetery and other small things that made travelling straight to be largely impossible, hence the time taken to find her house. 

Overall, I'd say that sometimes when accident happens, it is mostly because of the mere stupidity of some drivers who could either be the results from too much in-breeding going on in the family that caused them to only be able to acquire IQs of only two-digit numbers, or have brains made up from clays and spaghettis, or simply are so unbelievably dumb that even a tag team of a retarded dung beetle and a dead cockroach could outsmart them in a game of Tic-Tac-Toe. 

Though still shocked from the unfortunate occurrence, I thank you Lord for letting me be in one piece still and not in pieces like smashed jigsaw puzzles, for letting me and the two ladies alive amidst our sins to Thee. I thank the guardian angels and luck as well, and I thank the ability of my rather empty mind to actually think up of something real quick (that goes back to Thee o' Lord) and I thank Natalia for being able to brave up to quite a near-miss disaster and for saving us today; quite a show of courage shown by a 13-year old car. Thank you all of you, thank you, thank you.

When the sun comes up, remind me to retrieve my missing ball from under the seat later.

On the day I was born the nurses all gathered 'round, 
And they gazed in wide wonder at the joy they had found, 
The head nurse spoke up and she said, "leave this one alone" 
She could tell right away that I was bad to the bone, 

I broke a thousand hearts before I met you, 
I'll break a thousand more baby before I am through, 
I wanna be yours pretty baby, yours and yours alone, 
I'm here to tell ya honey, that I'm bad to the bone, 

I make a rich woman beg I'll make a good woman steal, 
I'll make an old woman blush and make a young woman squeal, 
I wanna be yours pretty baby, yours and yours alone 
I'm here to tell ya honey, that I'm bad to the bone 

And when I walk the streets Kings and Queens step aside, 
Every woman I meet they all stay satisfied, 
I wanna tell ya pretty baby well you see I make my own, 
I'm here to tell ya honey that I'm bad to the bone, 

Bad to the bone 
Bad to the bone 

- George Thorogood

Sunday, August 15, 2010

Someone once asked me.

"Dear sir," she said. "How does it feel being a Physics tutor?"

I looked at her and instead of answering her, I proposed some other questions. "Which experiences would you want to closely understand?" I asked her. "Is it about the sleepless nights spent on marking the tutorials and assignments, or is it the day hours spent on refreshing my Physics knowledge, or the time spent on other things that are directly related to Physics teaching?"

She smiled at me, and then she said, "all of them."

* * *

This post is dedicated to all the students in my Physics 1 tutorial classes for the session June - August 2010. Thank you for making our class the most happening and the most entertaining. Your classes surely are the best I have ever had since I first started my part-time career as an engineering tutor. You had fun, I had fun, we all had. God bless all of you, and good luck with life and studies. Perhaps we will meet again one fine day. And at that day please make sure you make me proud of ya. Godspeed, and so long, students.

This is how it looks like when you are looked up to to educate these hungry young minds. These are the boys from the Wednesday session - the group that cheered on me after the loss of Germany to Netherlands in the recent World Cup. Naughty buggers.

The Wednesday class. I describe this class as fun and entertaining, warm and friendly. Look at the boys at the most back row. 

This is the Thursday class. Started at 8am every Thursday morning, it took many capable men and women to drag me off the bed so that I can get up and teach these fellas. The two clowns at the front on their knees were the loudest in class. 

That's me at the middle.

Ainul, my assisting junior technician. 

Ms Lyza, my assisting senior technician.

The happy faces.

Sabrina Majid portraiture.

The girls.

Young master Bhai and me. This guy maintains the mood of the class at the highest happiness level at all time. Turns out to be one of the brightest student as well.

Sabrina and her tutorials.

Me and the Chinese Opera Gang :p and with Sunshine there too :D

Me and Rachel. Rachel is an equivalent sample that shares somewhat similar traits with Young master Bhai. She just kept the class going with laughters! :D

Again, Sabrina, with me. Strange, strange.

* * *

"All of them?" I asked her again.

"Yes," she replied. "All of them."

I looked at her and smiled. "Two words," I said while I showed her my punch with my index and middle fingers rising. "I need only two words to fully explain what I feel about it. About my life as a tutor, about my classes, my students, my jobs and everything else Physics."

"And the words are...?"
"Fuckin' awesome."