Life As Seen In The Eyes Of A Sparrow

Update: Project Awesome

2012-01-26T16:10:00.002+08:00

Ah, alright.

Project Awesome is now handled with a couple of guys through a blog and twitter account. Here there are:

Project Awesome 2012 Blog

Project Awesome 2012 Twitter

Let's make this a happening one, people!

Project Awesome 2012

2012-01-26T11:51:00.001+08:00

Project Awesome!

2012-01-25T20:55:00.005+08:00

Hello everyone :D

Okay. A quick update. I was thinking about making a large collage of pictures of people holding up a piece of paper in which written on it "I'm Awesome!". So I asked my followers in Twitter and some of them gave positive answers. So I'm just gonna jot down some details about it here and let's make it real this time! :D

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Project Awesome! - What is it? / Apa Itu Project Awesome?

Project Awesome! is a project where I will collect photos of people holding a piece of paper with "I'm Awesome!" written on it and turn them into a large collage. The collage will be posted here in the blog.

Project Awesome adalah satu projek di mana gambar-gambar peserta projek ini akan dikumpulkan menjadi satu kolaj besar dan akan dipaparkan di blog ini. Peserta haruslah memegang sehelai kertas yang tertulis "I'm Awesome!" di atasnya.

Awesome! Why 'Project Awesome!'? / Kenapa Project Awesome?

Project Awesome is designated for unity and self esteem. We always look at other people and wish we could be them and in the same time it was our own self that we keep forgetting. We forget that we are awesome in our own way, never mind what other people say. So why not we make a still memory out of it? Why not be confident in ourselves and shout it out loud, "I'm Awesome!"?

Project Awesome adalah untuk perpaduan dan menambahkan rasa keyakinan diri. Kita selalu melihat kepada orang lain dan berharap agar kita menjadi seperti mereka, dan tanpa kita sedari kita telah melupakan diri kita sendiri. Kita lupa yang kita juga Awesome dalam gaya dan cara kita sendiri tanpa. Tak kisahlah apa pun orang kata kan? Jadi mengapa tidak kita yakin pada diri sendiri dan kata pada mereka, "I'm Awesome!"?

Sure! Who Can Participate? / Cantik! Siapa Boleh Masuk?

ALL OF YOU! This project is profit free and my intention is to collect as many photos as possible and form them into a collage in which I will show to the world that these people are the ones who know just how awesome they are. Anybody with a camera and internet connection can participate :D

SEMUA PUN BOLEH! Projek ini adalah percuma dan bukan untuk wang ringgit. Tujuannya adalah untuk mengumpulkan seberapa banyak gambar untuk kita tunjukkan kepada dunia mereka-mereka yang yakin kepada diri sendiri dan percaya kepada harga diri masing-masing dan berani berkata kepada dunia, "I'm Awesome!". Asalkan ada kamera dan liputan internet, anda layak!

Alright! So What Do We Do? / Terbaik! So Apa Nak Buat Ni?

Simple! First, write "I'm Awesome!" on a piece of paper, take a picture of yourself and send it to me! You can either:-

1. Email me at nazmizaidi [at] yahoo [dot] com
2. Twitpic them and mention me, @M_Jacksparrow in Twitter
3. Tag me in your picture in Facebook

Take the best picture you can! Be creative! Be decorative! Be happy! Be awesome! This is the best thing - You can send me as many pictures as you want!

Senang saja! Tulis "I'm Aweesome!" atas kertas kosong, pegang dan ambil gambar sendiri, dan hantar pada saya! Cara menghantar adalah melalui salah satu cara berikut:

1. Emel ke nazmizaidi [at] yahoo [dot] com
2. Twitpic dan mensi nama saya, @M_Jacksparrow di Twitter
3. Tag saya pada gambar tersebut di Facebook

Ambil gambar secantik dan sekreatif mana yang anda mau! Tunjuk yang anda sememangnya awesome! Dan ada lagi - anda boleh hantar seberapa banyak gambar yang anda suka!

Seriously Awesome, Bro! Any Rules? / Gila terbaik bro. Ada syarat tak?

Of course! In order to make this game a fun and clean one, there has to be some rules. The rules are:

1. The pic has to be from head to waist so that your face will be visibly clear in the collage. Don't be shy!

2. Make sure the writing is visible too! Refer to the pic below!

3. As long as there are (a) your face and (b) an A4/A3 size paper with "I'm Awesome" on it, you're up for the game!

4. You HAVE to let others know too! More participants, the better!

5. The pics have to reach me BEFORE 12.00am on 1st of February 2012. Then onward, I can start making the collage! :D

Mestilah! Untuk menjamin kebaikan projek ini, kenalah ada syarat sedikit! Syarat-syaratnya:

1. Gambar mestilah dari kepala ke pinggang. Jangan mengada-ngada nak malu. Kata awesome kan?
2. Pastikan tulisan "I'm Awesome!" adalah jelas. Lihat contoh gambar di bawah.
3. Asalkan ada (2) muka anda dan (b) kertas bersaiz A4/A3 bertulis "I'm Awesome!", anda layak masuk!
4. Anda KENA bagitau orang lain! Lagi ramai, lagi bagus!
5. Gambar anda perlu sampai pada saya SEBELUM 12.00am 1hb Februari 2012. Lepas tu saya dah nak cantumkan jadi kolaj! :D

Thanks people! Let's make this one an awesome one!

* * *

Template: I'm Awesome!

What An Awesome Gift

2012-01-21T22:29:00.003+08:00

6.15pm today.

The phone was ringing. I picked it up, and before I could even say anything, I heard her voice speaking through the tiny HTC:

"Get ready. I'll be there in twenty minutes time."

Then the call was ended.

Holy crap she's here.

* * *

Meet Hazirah, mid twenties, 170cm tall, never said anything about weight though, fit young lady, hotness level four-over-five. And this is how she looks like:

[Photo was removed because she had me at the end of a knife, saying

"it's either the photo goes, or you do."]

The one in red, of course. She's single by the way.

She came to UTP to hand me a piece of cake and a birthday gift. But only the birthday present was given this day because she ATE my cake because she was hungry on the way here. How very lovely, that act was. I felt loved instantly.

Nevertheless, this was what she brought me:

An artificial silk necktie from Polo Haus; a combination of three colors with almost suede-like finish on top. Freaking awesome. Feels so smooth and silky.

Doesn't wrinkle much, fits like a <s>condom</s> glove. I have to admit that I love this one very much. Well this gift made my day alright! Thanks Hazirah!

p/s: I feel so loved.

Long Live The Sparrows

2012-01-21T13:40:00.000+08:00

*Based on tweets received as per 1300 hour, 21st January 2012*

* * *

Thank you very much for all the wishes.

Long live the sparrows.

Coke and Cigar

2012-01-21T00:00:00.000+08:00

This, of course, is another auto-published entry.

At the time this entry is open to public, which as per the time this is written it is scheduled to be published precisely at 12.00am on January the twenty-first, which would be the day I will be celebrating my twenty-seventh birthday, I may not be in front of the computer by now, for I will be doing any of the following:

1. Having a chilled can of Coke and a tube cigar on the pool chair by the swimming pool with Le Roomie at the Clearwater Sanctuary Golf Resort, Batu Gajah, overlooking the clubhouse lake and the open night sky;

2. Having a chilled can of Coke and a tube cigar while lying next to a bonfire with Le Roomie on the sandy beach of Marina Bay, Lumut, overlooking the wide ocean and the open night sky;

3. Having a chilled can of Coke and a tube of cigar while sitting on the old, wooden bench with Le Roomie at the far end of the platform of the majestic Ipoh Railway Station, overlooking the parked and passing night trains and the open night sky;

4. Having a chilled can of Coke and a tube of cigar in the car with Le Roomie while listening to nice songs while traveling light towards unknown destination, overlooking the empty plains and forests at each side and the open night sky; or,

5. Having a chilled can of Coke and a tube of cigar on my chair in my office at the corner of the huge and dark laboratory with my feet on the table like a boss, all by myself, overlooking the entire laboratory floor and, through the window, the open night sky.

Most likely, if Le Roomie is going out with his wonderful girl again tonight, I will be doing number 5.

* * *

May I be a better man with better life this year, maybe a good wife and a bright future. Thanks in advance to all who are wishing me on my birthday, I appreciate all of them. May all my wishes and yours come true, and godspeed to all of us. May I be able to laugh and smile again, may my life be free from anymore pain.

Happy birthday, Jack. Cheers, damnit, cheers to that!

p/s: to me, you're the sweetest ever. Thanks for the call. I love you.

Tomorrow

2012-01-20T00:53:00.003+08:00

So tomorrow's my birthday.

27 years old this year.

Of course, just like most people, on the last day of the year before your age changes again, you get this mixed emotions in your head. Pretty emotional moment this is, if you ask me. So many things happened when I was, and still am, 26 years old. So many great achievements, yet so many heavy losses. And as we speak, it is 12.32am in the morning and since Le Roomie is currently out again with his babe, I am all by myself now, having a cup of coffee and a bit of pipe smoking, doing some bits of reminiscing.

If the plan went out as anticipated, tomorrow I should be engaged, and with all luck, married.

But of course, the plan didn't go the way many people and I anticipated. I cough up a little when it comes to this wedding issue actually, and that's the way I would want to put it. A bit of disappointment and a bit of relief. I don't know how exactly I feel about the whole event at this time. Not sure if things are getting better, or I just get used to it already. But in general it is somehow affecting me deep inside.

I, too, do not expect much for my birthday tomorrow.

I never had any birthday party thrown for me. Of course, there were some very good people other than my own parents who bought me things, particularly my exes. I used to get a Tamiya plastic model from one ex for my birthday, and I liked it very much. Another ex bought me a pack of Costa Rican coffee and a slice of cheesecake with a candle on it, and I liked that too. And another ex bought me a Sony digital picture frame for my birthday, and I liked that one as well. Of course, all these happened when I was in relationship with each of them, and now that I find myself single again, all I could say is that, "oh well".

Well, it's alright really.

Perhaps being 27 tomorrow will bring me hell of a luck. May my life be blessed with prosperity and wealth and love and health. May I be a successful man this year around too. Maybe there is light at the end of the tunnel. Eventually I'm gonna reach there one day. Maybe the light reach me first, I don't know. I just hope that things will be alright soon. The turmoil will soon fade away, leaving me in total serenity. Perhaps hope is a big word. Maybe I shouldn't hope at all. Maybe I'll appreciate things that way. Maybe I won't get hurt again. Maybe, I really don't know. Maybe I should just hope for tomorrow never come.

Thanks to all who wished me today.

I love you all.

Burning

2012-01-15T18:01:00.001+08:00

In myself, there is hell.

Hell.

In there my anger burns. Along with my disappointments, my frustrations, my despair, my sadness and my sorrows. My love, my hatred; mixed. Every day they burn in sky-grabbing fire, hot like always. Char after char of disappointment fuel the soaring flames. Broken dreams and shattered hopes remain witnesses. Ashes of never tomorrows laid upon the barren soil of my deserted plains of extreme emptiness.

Slowly it consumes me from within, turning me into one cold bastard that cares less about everything. About the suffering of others. About the love of others. About the existence of others, and as well, the totality of others too.

There were times when the fire burnt so intensely that some of the heat broke loose.

When that happened, I saw myself being somebody else. At rage. Extreme amount of energy came bursting out from inside. I became awfully quiet. Surrounded in silence. My rational dissipated in my own fiery emotions. And when that happened, especially these days, I had to channel the energy out to keep my sanity in check.

I had to drain the energy out before the monster in me gets unleashed.

So I ran. I went to the gym and started lifting weights. Pulling, pushing, punching, kicking. Bucketful of sweats remains a friend. Endless bandages and menthol creams for injured tendons and torn muscles. At times I physically bleed from all the accidents I got. My body was in pain, but I couldn't stop, I pushed over the limits. I pushed till it hurt, and I pushed it till it hurt no more.

The fire in me, it may never cease.

I ran till I drop. I lifted weights till I couldn't feel my fingers. Numb. Blue spots around my flesh. Even brushing my teeth in the morning was too painful. Every time I looked at myself in the mirror, I saw some other cuts and bruises appearing. Another swollen joint. Another pain to bear with. And I saw my eyes. They were once shining. What happened? My lips, why aren't they smiling no more? And I felt it. I felt my anger burning again, deep inside me. I felt my lips trembling. I felt my face heating up.

The monster was back again.

So I put on my running attire, and I ran again.

And the hell in me, they keep on burning.

Le Adventures of Despair

2012-01-15T13:46:00.000+08:00

Wishlist Quarterly 2012

2012-01-15T01:19:00.000+08:00

Money?

2012-01-14T23:49:00.001+08:00

One Level Up

2012-01-11T22:38:00.000+08:00

My scribbles on "The Navier-Stokes Equation for Three-Dimensional Planes
at Unsteady State Region".

I'm done with master's.

Looking back, I managed to complete the project in absolutely three years. Empirical, or commonly known as experimental research is one of the few things in scientific research that may consume a lot of time, especially when the project includes a lot of unknown parameters. The time span in experimental research involves a lot of expenses as well, being one of the most field avoided by researchers due to these two very costly expenditures nowadays.

My research involved a lot of unknown parameters since the fundamentals of it was almost unknown at the time I began the study; involving one of the most abundant biomass in Malaysia that no one actually conducted any particular research on it until in the recent years. These three years of research have been one of the best, if not the most painful, moments in my entire history, from which many experiences were gained, as well as countless losses.

But they were all worth it.

Now that I am done with it, it's time to move on with something else. At first, I wanted to get into the industry for a moment or two, mainly for the golden experiences they are offering in the biomass business these days. I received two offers previously, both oversea based, as a principal consultant and associate consultant respectively. The pay was very handsome if you ask me, but I gave a long thought about it and I made my decision earlier thane expected.

I'm going to pursue my Doctor of Philosophy degree, better known as PhD.

As we speak, I have started the preliminary studies on my current project, which also will involve a lot of biomass and fire, and the estimated time for this project to complete is three years from now. With all hopes, I would like to keep with the given timeline, from which I believe if my estimation is correct I will receive the highest achievement in academics at the age of 29 years old, and in the same time, being one of very few students who went for bachelor degree, master's degree and a PhD all in one go in UTP.

Insya Allah, it will be very nice to finally achieve something that I really want after all these years of study. With a PhD, it will obviously change the course of my life, although what I really look for is the wisdom behind it. Nevertheless I think that I have made the right choice, and given time and faith I am sure that I will overcome all the incoming obstacles and appear fashionably before the grand chancellor for my scroll sometime in 2014.

With what I have then, I would like to help others and the country with my expertise, and start building a family with better lifestyle. At least money wouldn't be an issue at that time. But to get there, there's a cost; my time, my money, my health, everything. But I assure you, for the sake of having my wife and kids smiling all day and sleep soundly at night, it worth all the sacrifices I make today.

Please pray for me, alright? :D

Love Wonderland

2012-01-09T22:01:00.004+08:00

Let me tell you one think I understand about love from all the experiences I had in the past years with or without my own willingness.

But first I need you to prepare your imagination.

Picture love as a wonderland. Like a theme park or some sort. The place that every man and woman crave to go and stay for long, especially after listening to those stories, or more like tales, told by those who have been there; the sort of stories one may imagine as magic and extremely pleasing. Those who have been there and back, they express their experiences in the most beautiful way, but sometimes too, in the most goriest fashion. Those who listen make their own mind at that very instant - to go there and stay, or stay here and never go - by judging from these stories about love wonderland.

Some of them, especially those who haven't been to love wonderland, or never been there again for a very long time, experience the urge within to go to the land of magic, the land where time stays still, for the sake of experiencing it, if not out of all damned curiosities.

And when they get there at the very entrance to Love Wonderland, they stand still and stare at the area with such awe in their faces. Palaces made from pure Belgian chocolate, sprinkled with fresh berry cuts and honey drops. Walkaways made from crunchy wafers and butterscotch fingers. Ponds, lakes and rivers filled with molten milk chocolate and caramel, the smell struck their noses like an arrow does to flesh.

Fruits everywhere, gigantic in size. Gingerbread men go about giving out fresh sweet potato buns. The clear blue sky snows sugar powder. Light breeze brings the sweet smell of hot cocoa and butter. Rich and extraordinary. And from where these awed people are standing, they could hear sounds from afar, of happiness and extreme joy, from those who are already within the perimeter of Love Wonderland. And they run. All the way there to where the sounds are created; in their hearts hopes arise, in their eyes, light alights.

This, of course, is their first mistake.

When they reach there, they forget about all the gory stories they heard about the place previously, mainly due to all the joyful things they are currently enjoying to no estimated limits, and this, of course, is their second mistake. They put their guards down because they are extremely comfortable in Love Wonderland, where joy and happiness are at supplied at unlimited regiments. As time goes by (not that they can feel it, since time does not pass in Love Wonderland), they make themselves weaker and vulnerable; open to all incoming attacks, and of course, get easily beaten after that.

After some time, out of all the sudden, the chocolates no longer taste as good. The gingerbread men are such a bore, the same with their meaningless sweet potato buns. Molten chocolate river and pond they just won't dry, and the sweet smelling air starts to irritatingly irritate. Suddenly, Love Wonderland loses its charm and wonder.

Some want to leave, some want to stay longer.

Now, there are only two ways to exit Love Wonderland; by willingly walk pass the mile long field of barbed wires, land mines and literally day and night bombing from heavy artillery bombardment, or, get thrown out from Love Wonderland and made to walk the same path, but for this one, unwillingly. There is no one who can walk out of Love Wonderland in one piece, unaffected. Very seldom one walks out of Love Wonderland without a single scar; most of the time, barely alive. And the only thing that make these men and women to keep walking the mile long field of doom is courage. Just courage. Courage for reality. For the real world. For healing.

Recovery time varies; some very short, some very long.

But as these people recover, they reminisce the times they had in Love Wonderland. Oh how good the chocolates were. The berry sprinkles all over. And those molten chocolate and caramel that never stopped flowing. And remember the smell? And those silly gingerbread men tossing sweet potato buns around, under the sugar-powder-snowing blue sky? What experiences they were really. As time goes by (this time, time goes by fast in their real world), they forgot about just how they had to bring themselves out from Love Wonderland previously. They forgot about just how Love Wonderland be the reason for their sufferings.

Another mistake.

As their scars heal, they secretly long again for that place. And as to add the joy to it, they share their stories with unsuspecting young chaps and damsels who have not been there to Love Wonderland, increasing their curiosities, and often, they forget to tell them the dark sides of the place. They fail to warn these hopeful young men and women about just how Love Wonderland can cure all life heartaches, and also be the only, if not all, reason to another, if not bigger, heartache.

And that, of course, is their biggest mistake.

Quick Steps to Serenity; The Islamic Way

2012-01-02T23:16:00.000+08:00

[This is an Islamic post]

I talked to one of my Twitter followers who was recently having some critical nervous breakdown and was clearly in need for some certain motivational heads up. But as much as words could say to lessen the burden within, there is nothing else more meaningful than having an inner peace. And inner peace is something one has to work for and may not be obtained from anybody else.

So as to share what I shared with her with the rest of my followers, these are the things you need to do by daily basis in order to obtain a sufficient dose of inner peace and calmness regardless in any kind of situation. The chances of them to work mainly depend on how much you believe it will, simple as that. For me, it works very fine, Alhamdulillah. Maybe you may want to try for yourself and see how they help you facing your daily challenges.

So here goes.

* * *

The road to obtain an inner peace isn't hard, but isn't as easy as well. These are the procedures:

1. Try hard not to miss to cite Subhanallah 33 times, Alhamdulillah 33 times, Allahuakbar 34 times and Laila ha illallah 41 times every time you're done with each of your daily prayers. Understand the meanings of these words while you cite them calmly one by one.

2. 15 minutes before the calling for Subuh and Maghrib prayers, cite this: Subhanalllah wabihamdih, Subhanallah wa azam and Astaghfirullah hal azim at least 100 times. Stop around 3 minutes before the adzan and put both your hands in a praying gesture (do'a, not solah) and ask for what you want. Stop when the adzan starts. Do this daily.

3. Every time in between the adzan and the iqamah and also every time right after you're done with your wudu', always pray for your wishes.

4. When you pray (do'a), say Alhamdulillah and the selawat first before you begin with your wishes, and complete your prayer with selawat and Alhamdulillah. Always pray for others first before praying for yourself.

5. Before you sleep while you are already lying in bed, read this in order: Al-Fatihah 1x, Qursi 1x, Al-Falaq 3x, An-Naas 3x, Al-Ikhlaas 3x, and Bismillahir rahmanir rahim 21x. Then make a prayer and wish for all the things you want, and at the end of the prayer, forgive all the people that have wronged you with all your heart no matter how awful their mistakes were. Do this every day.

6. When you're really in a ponged up situation, sleep early at night and wake up at around 1.30am. Take wudu' and do this in order: Sunnaat Tahajjud 2 raka'ahs, Sunnaat Taubah 2 raka'ahs, Sunnaat Hajaat 2 raka'ahs, Sunnaat Istikharah 2 raka'ahs (if necessary) and Sunnaat Witr 1 raka'ah. This is at the most minimum set. Ask as much as you want and cry as much as you want too. When you pray (do'a), always believe that Allah has heard you and He will take it from there.

7. Tasbih Nabi Yunus. Laa ilahailla anta, subhanaka inni kuntu minazzolimin. Cite that as many times as possible when you are feeling down or are in trouble. Help comes in no time. Worked every dang time for me.

And as a bonus:

1. Cite Ya Latiff 133 times every morning after Subuh prayer before your do'a. This is to ease all your troubles and to ensure that people around will be kind to you and you will be protected from anyone with bad intentions whole day long.

2. Cite Ya Batiin 3 times after that. This reveals some of Allah's secrets to you, and the secrets that people with bad intentions around keep from you. It's like some spy-intelligence kinda thing.

* * *

No matter who you are, if you believe in Him, He will always be with you at all time. That is one of many greatest things about Him; He helps you nevertheless, no matter what kind of ponged up motherponger you are.

Berharap pada orang, kau akan kecewa. Berharap pada Allah, kau akan gembira. Dan ingat juga, yang bila mana Allah mau tolong, tiada siapa boleh halang dan bila Allah mau halang, tiada siapa boleh tolong.

Sebar-sebarkan lah ya!

Rock Star

2012-01-02T16:36:00.005+08:00

A lady friend came today.

If you ask me, she is quite a decent girl alright. The sort of lady that one feels comfortably to hang out with. An exceptional feature would be her talkative characteristic that mainly depends on the audience's perception, to which some may take it formally interesting while some others may not. Nevertheless I find her company very much meaningful today although the time spent was clearly insufficient. And before we knew it it was almost time for her to catch her train.

On the way there however, there is this gray Gen2 that took over my car at the right lane and I noticed that one of the four ladies in there made a gesture with her mobile phone as if she was taking our pictures. Quite bewildered with what happened, I overtook the car again to make sure if it was me she was snapping. And the gesture happened again. That was when I realized that something fishy was going on. And the lady beside me was startled with the action.

Always keep your tire pressures at the most optimal in case for a chase like this.

In my mind that the lady beside me is not somebody to be taken lightly of. She comes from a respectable family and she has reputations. And with all it takes her reputations must be defended at all costs. In the chase to defend for this lady's honor, and to find out just what the hell is going on, I stepped on the gas and the medium-to-high speed chase began. And I recognized some of the faces in there.

So what now, a pictorial evidence showing that, oh, he just got his wedding canceled and now he's going out with some other chick already? Oh come on! What was I supposed to do then, sit down and cry all day?

The pursuit lasted for almost 15 minutes until we both stopped next to next at a traffic light and as I looked to my left I could see the driver and the passengers clearly, so I took some snaps of them as well. The snapper just now waved at me in an excited manner, to which I did not know why. The lady next to me was entirely clueless by then, and was holding back real badly.

When both of us parked our cars separately at the Batu Gajah train station, I went to the car and knocked on the window. The young lady in there opened the door, to which my first question to her was that why was she snapping my pictures, to which she innocently replied that she wasn't at all while trying to show me the pictures in her mobile. I told her to with all accord respect others and bid them good day and walked off to the station where the lady was waiting for me.

I thanked her for coming and sent her off after giving her a long hug. And she walked off with the brightest smile I ever saw this year.

Awesome.

* * *

Good thing was that we've got the plate number and some clear photos of them young ladies. Sent the pictures to a friend in Kuala Lumpur via the MMS service to run some checks and the car came out clean. So nothing to worry there but just in case something comes up after this at least we are primarily ahead of things. When I called the guy, the first thing he said was;

"Ha kenapa kau? Kena kejar paparazzi lagi ke?"

I LOL-ed. I feel like a rock star already. But I hope what them ladies did was just for fun and nothing serious. And if you girls are reading this, hey, I'm terribly sorry for crashing at your door just like that and for being rather serious (fierce?). But yeah, I don't enjoy getting my face snapped when I am not ready so, yeah, maybe next time we can take pictures together in a more civilized manner. More awesome that way.

And look what the lady who came for me gave! :

Smart ass? AWESOME!

Side of the Coin

2012-01-02T00:45:00.001+08:00

Interesting, just how some girls think.

You see, quite too on my own amusement, I would have been less than surprised to acknowledge just how some ladies around me came to think that I am being a complete flirt, if not a serious sex maniac. Often in my conversation I have used repeatably the terms darling, honey, sweetheart and all the sugarcoated words in addressing females who communicated with me whether in real life or not. This is a fact from which many of you have realized and took acknowledgement of it since the very beginning of time. Some took it neutrally, some others took it positively and the rest however, offensively.

The latter labelled me as 'gatal'.

Of course, in the norm of being females, some ladies who are educated enough will take my behavior as completely out of chivalry, if not excellent courtesy. This however may not apply to the less educated ones. Educated here means the sorts who could use their brains effectively and not necessarily are academically inclined. And educated here means those who are represented by their civilized and extremely courteous manners, if not being exceptionally sympathetic to others during their rainy days.

You see, it doesn't mean if I flirt with you, you could be one hell of a terrific lady. That is just silly, if you ask me. By right, I would have been able to rate a lady down to the littlest detail and of course, it won't be something that is very hard to do. I mean, do I look like someone who cannot tell just how attractive a lady is? But of course, by means of sheer courtesy I find that every lady has the right to feel extremely intact when it comes to self-confidence, and I often try to boost this by making the communication with them pretty dandy.

Which, of course, some took it wrongly.

I was initially informed about someone who recently labelled me as quite a pervert in one of the main social media network, and most informatively I found out that this person is someone who I know quite well. Five different individuals came up and informed me about the incident and two of them came up even with printscreens of it. Thanks very much to these good friends of mine who cared enough to stand for my highest level of defense. Of course, the subject in question here did this privately, which most cowards usually do.

Now that I have been informed, I flipped a coin to see which side I'd get in order to decide what I am going to do about it.

You see, if I flirt with you, it doesn't mean that you are sizzling, neither you are anywhere near being able to halt me from blinking my eyes for more than three seconds. Snap out of it. Look at the girls around me. Some of them are bombastic enough to blow an average Joe's mind. And you are as ugly as your thoughts are. Let's not deny it, that you are not really the brightest of the lot, so it is not surprising if something like this comes out from someone like you.

I know what you did, darling. And don't take this complimentary darling for real; I just said it just to light up the conversation. And I know that you will come out with more of this, opening up on all the things about me. Yes, you can bark about my failures and even my recent crisis in relationship and share them openly for a laugh or two just to satisfy your perverse psyche. Like a some sort of entertainment to brighten your otherwise unlit days.

But every action has its price, and we all pay for it in a way or another whether we like it or not. And if I were you, I'll watch my back real good, because if this attitude goes on someday at your weakest point in your life, someone will do similarly as you have done to others and it will be reiterated back to you when you least expected it, perhaps at even a greater value of dice. So be nice, and everyone will be nice to you. Don't take this as a planned bombardment but as a sheer courtesy of advice from someone who is more experienced than yourself.

Good thing I've got the lovely side of the coin - to forgive.

* * *

Just a complimentary reminder for you from a few very best friends that's all.

I forgave you.

They didn't.

Happy New Year

2012-01-01T02:02:00.004+08:00

[This is an auto-published post]

Happy new year everyone.

This post was written at 5.37pm on the last day the twelfth month of the eleventh year of the second millennium. If I calculate correctly, this post will be published exactly 2 hours after new year.

By now I am pretty sure that everyone has had their good times and is on the way home after the new year celebration, if not still celebrating. Whatever it is, I hope that everyone is happy and dandy just like new year is supposed to be. I can picture you all smiling already.

And at the time this post is published, I am currently doing some ninety on the freeway heading to nowhere. Well if you ask me, I don't really have any plan for the new year, so whatever that pops up into mind at this hour will definitely be a plan to follow.

Let's just hope it isn't going to be a foolish one.

* * *

And with that, again, happy new year everyone.

God bless us all.

Captain's log, 31st Dec 2011; 6.12pm.

Seriously

2011-12-31T12:07:00.000+08:00

Resolutions

2011-12-30T23:54:00.001+08:00

And so here we are again at the end of the year.

Big event alright.

And just like every other end of the year we do the same thing all over again. We wish for things to get better and may our souls be always in peace. And throughout the year when we see that things start not to go the way we wanted, we take a bow and wait until the end of the year again hoping for a new beginning. And then we have that mixed feelings and tingling sensations while waiting for the year to dramatically change during that often unnerving countdown moment.

All the damn time.

And so as to follow this well-celebrated tradition I would allow myself to cite a little prayer and hope for good things to start happening soon as the fastest hand on the clock hits the first second of 2012. Too many too hope and wish for, actually, but as I got to my realistic ground I soon started to remind myself to jot down something that I most probably will work out for next year. Or at least hope to happen if I give enough to what it takes.

A wedding isn't certainly in the plan.

So let us see what I have in store for 2012.

* * *

1. PhD, full speed ahead - I am done with master's degree now, and I have been given the opportunity to give my PhD a stern kickoff. I foresee that for PhD I would have been able to pull some strings of time since I am continuing on the same subject of research. With my knowledge in the matter it wouldn't be so aching to get it done on time, from which I previously aimed for at least two years and a half, three maximum.

I hope that I will be able to publish quality works as much as I am able to, and I would like to expand my range of contacts in the circle of biomass researchers and experts around the country, if not worldwide. By all chances I hope that by the end of next year my works in research will establish well enough to gain some attentions.

I'd like to make some real money too. Seeing myself so broke after the relationship ended that I literally ended up having to eat dry crackers with plain water three days straight, it is about time for me to watch my spending over the unnecessary.

2. Going places - It had been a real pleasure when I got to travel abroad to foreign lands in which I had encountered many memorable experiences worth telling. Previously I had been to Vietnam, Indonesia and China. This time around, let's hope for somewhere further. Now that my wedding plan got ponged up real nice and I shall see no more rubbish like that anytime soon, I am planning to spend the previously allocated cash for this travel matters.

My mother and I are planning to pay a visit to the Holy Land sometime in the summer next year. Perhaps we may drop by in Turkey for some sightseeing. And maybe we'll visit somewhere cold too. Australia sounds awesome by the way, or maybe the States. Let's see on that. Hopefully the visits will be able to bring some peace to mind and heart following what had happened to us.

3. Be awesome - I have realized just how many wonderful things I have missed along the way here and I have been given a second chance now to look around me again and start taking things with all seriousness and not for granted. I had led my life in such a lame fashion that it aches for me to look back at what I have done so far with it. And so I decided that it is about time for me to explore the hidden sides of life and be swell with it, for all it's worth. I wanna be awesome, and I wanna inspire others to be awesome too. That way, we'll appreciate people and things better and never again we will end up in sorrow and tears.

I had no idea my Twitter fans are so awesome. And for that, i dedicate this to all of you.

4. Be a better man - I'm gonna be 27 in less than a few weeks. It's about time I get serious with my life now. Time to catch up with some old bits. Time to start watching over my health. Time to get down to business and make the most of out it. Time to change some bad habits. Time to shape up a bit too. I missed my abs and my muscular arms. It has really been a while since I hit the gym. Good thing is that since the bitter ending of my otherwise a tender relationship I have been running and started my body-shaping regiment all over again; bad thing is that I have at least 10% more body fat to reduce, and it's going to be a real pain in the ass.

I want to write better too. It is nice to write again and although a bit of brushing up has to be done before I get back to my previous self in writing, I could easily express that my writing has improved since the very beginning. And to add more to that the amount of readers coming my way are excellently increasing. And I thank Thee for that, with all my pride and soul.

Perhaps I would love better too.

* * *

I don't want to plan much this time around.

To commemorate this year end celebration I would like to conclude here that my life has been awesome this one whole year albeit a series of miserable moments that I'd like not to remember. With all hopes I would like to see just how my life improves after this; building my ruined castle again brick by brick with or without you (you here does not refer to anybody). I would want to see that six months forward from today I will be looking back and say, "hey, I'm okay, I'm alright."

And it is not yet too early to say that too.

I mean, hey, I'm okay, I'm alright.

Happy New Year everyone, and have a ponging good one this time around.

If Only

2011-12-30T01:15:00.001+08:00

If only there are enough words to best express what I have inside for you.

Of all the many beautiful things that could happen, of all the vast love and care the world could ever offer, they all came from you. Being grateful is never enough, and being thankful is just way too little.

If only there are enough words. If only.

* * *

Laid upon my chest the flowers of my soul,
Years gone by but I did never get old,
No more tears I feel no more pain,
There goes finally all my endless rain,
How are you feeling, how do you do?
In my mind all I had at night was you,
Strange, just how I would feel this way, that
I couldn't anymore find a way to be sad,
So much love from you, too much kindness,
For a stranger like me, you're the finest,
Of all the beautiful things that could ever happen,
Rare is the occasion to find the path to heaven,
Your love embraced me; this feelings I can never forget, and
Of all the things I could ever wish for, of all wishes best be said,
Unify our feelings I will; and best hope this will never end.

The poem, it doesn't matter. Really.

Bloody Dream

2011-12-28T13:03:00.000+08:00

Strange.

This morning after I came back for a jog at around 5.45am, I sat on my chair for a while and fell asleep. I woke up minutes after that when the calling for morning prayer from the nearby musallah hit me awake. The time then was around 6.05am. So I have been sleeping for 15, 20 minutes flat.

I had the weirdest dream ever.

This was even weirder than that one time when I dreamed about my mother running after me with a frying pan and I ran straight ahead in all fear, or that another time when Maria Ozawa sprayed my face using a garden hose for no reasons at all. This time, I dreamed of a girl

She looked nothing familiar. But she surely looked awesome though. I couldn't recall where both of us were but the place was cold. Other details were so blurry. I remember I was lying down on a bed when I saw her coming and she sat right next to me. I was having some fever or something. She placed her hand gently on my forehead before placing it on my cheeks. It felt so warm.

"Wait," she said. "I won't be long more."

And then she stood up and walked to the door. I looked at her, terribly clueless. She then turned around and she smiled at me. Now this was the only expression she made that I can still clearly remember.

"Don't go anywhere," she told me. "I'll come back for you."

She walked into that door of darkness and disappeared. I suddenly felt so lonely. The longing. The missing. The biting coldness. The still emptiness. I felt a tear fell from my eyes. And that was when I woke up, and I pulled by head up from my arms.

Istighfar.

I saw a drop of warm liquid on the skin of my arm.

Pong.

* * *

I never really knew how to draw.

So I made this just so that I can preserve my memories of her from that short meeting. Strange. I still can remember her face clearly.

Bloody dream.

But whoever you are, damsel, God bless you. After all these time? Always.

p/s: You'll come back for me? Pong me sideways.

Smile Again, Please?

2011-12-28T03:26:00.000+08:00

I find myself sleepless again tonight.

A few things in mind, research mostly, some other unimportant things and this one last matter that currently bothers my mind at best. Imagine, of all the most exquisite things that I could have cared for, this one thing stays in my mind like nobody's business. By far it is the most unimportant thing, but now it suddenly wins the highest priority in which I would have given by right a vast amount of pong. Now pong here refers to the popular English word of fuck, in which |I would want to reduce the usage of it in my blog, therefore I replace the word with pong.

So this was what the pong happened to me.

* * *

Have you ever been stunned by the beauty of a lady?

I have. Like all the bloody time.

But today was different. You see, I have been quite active in Twitter lately, main reason was to fill my unoccupied time, other than to amplify my doubtful awesomeness and to create a wide network of awesome men and women (although women win the proportion by 20 women for every man in my Twitter list). Among the people in my Twitter list was this one quite, no, good looking lady whom, God forgive me for this, I liked to look at her face. Like almost every damn day I visited her just to click on her profile picture which she used to change in every 2 days or so.

But we never tweet each other at all.

I mean, come on, look at her. She's all that. The kind of woman that most men will fight for. Look at the way she smiles and the way she gives that extraordinary looks. Yes, true, I have confidence and all that, and as long as I follow the rules of engagement and the art of attraction pretty neatly, I could have topped all those clueless men in no time, at least to the best fives, but of course in me I had doubts, and these doubts prevented me from saying hi to her, not even once. Even she too never dropped a tweet to me, and that was as far as the relationship went. Pure electronics. But then sometime a week or two back, I noticed that her account suddenly disappeared.

And I was like, "what the pong?"

Never really did give a damn at first, my days went by smoothly. I made new friends in Twitter, recounted the old ones, and had wonderful times with them all. But in my mind I still thought about her. I wondered what happened; must be ponged up enough to cause her to disengage from her daily Twitter chore. But then again, however I see it, it was still my loss for not being able to establish a direct contact with her when she was around. Talking about some bitter regrets. If only I said hi to her. How I wish if she reappears just so that I can say hi to her or something. If she reappears again, I said to myself, I am so going to say hi to her to make up for my regretful past. And you know what? Today she did.

She reappeared right in my direct messaging box.

Oh pong.

* * *

"You've gotta help me."

You see, help is a strong word, darling. Before I am able to help you, I would want you to know that I require help myself, especially in dealing with my shaking legs and sweaty palms from this very surprising course of event. A miracle! Or maybe not. I don't know. But what I know was that she came right to me and asked for help, in which, "yes ma'am first officer Jacksparrow right at your service, ma'am."

Long story short, she's having some relationship problems. And she was expecting that I would be able to give her some advises. At first I was like, "mean woman, you have hurt me enough, GTFO" but of course, being a completely wet sponge when it comes to damsels in distress without taking account of my own frustrations, I decided to help her anyway, although I knew that I was going to get a punch right in the stomach again soon enough. Since Twitter only allow 140 characters in every reply, and I am the kind of guy who will write a thesis just to tell someone to close the door for me, I found it very difficult to communicate with her. So I asked for her number, and she gave it to me. But when I called her, she never picked it up.

I mean, what the pong la? Fine then If she didn't want to pick up the phone. Good luck with the ponging problem then, and that ponging guy, whoever the pong he was.

It was not until a few minutes following that last call to her that I received a call from someone who introduced herself to me as one of the gorgeous lady's friend. Pissed off, I answered her with a bit of resistance and somewhat disappointment. And what she told me next stunned me so badly that I had to hold my forehead in my right arm while resting it on the desk. I only hold my head in my hand like that in only three occasions: 1) while listening to endless whining from the office, 2) while listening to my mom's 1,001 advises in only a 5-minute session, and when I receive a call saying that someone just died. So if I did it this time, then it must be ponging important and shocking enough.

"She didn't answer your call because she can't hear you," the friend said. She had a pretty voice.

"Can't hear?" Wait, what?

"Nor talk. She's deaf and mute."

And so it hit me.

PONG!

* * *

You are still so beautiful.

I'm sorry I didn't know. But I do now, and I will do whatever it takes to make you happy again. Just so that I can come by your Twitter and stalk on your profile picture again. Please be happy. You can't hear me, and you can't reply me either, but for sure both of us can write and read.

So I did this for you:

But if that doesn't cheer you up still, I hope this will:

So yeah, I'd hope that things will be fine for you soon. I wish you all the best and hope that my advises work for you. Hope that you'll smile again. I missed that smiles. Thank you for being awesome all these whiles. And I want you to stay that way. Not for just a moment but for every damn day.

Smile for me, smile for me, and I'll smile with you.

p/s: pretty as hell, doesn't nag, doesn't need to hear my ramblings. The perfect one? Pong me sideways.

Fans

2011-12-28T00:13:00.002+08:00

Girls on Facebook

2011-12-27T13:02:00.002+08:00

Another Year

2011-12-25T20:05:00.001+08:00

Just a few more days till the end of the year.

And just like every other end of year we say goodbyes to the current and then anticipate for a new beginning as the new year slowly gets closer. New hopes appear, old ones resurface. Joyful feelings will cover our sorrows on that day, even when only for a short meaningful while. The squares will be filled with mixed crowds, all nervously waiting for the countdown to the new beginning. New dreams begin to bloom; nightmares die in agony. Many stories will be shared; many secrets ready to unfold. Like spring, the new year promises many fortunes to come to those in need.

It has been a long year.

Many things happened to me on this eleventh year of the second millennium. Strange, just when I think about it, that I was at the highest peak and the lowest pit of my life both at the same time. Too many things to remember, too many too to forget. Life comes flashing before my eyes like a movie without a sound. Still pictures all around. Some of these memories are easily erasable; some of them stick to me like super glue. Some of them are too easy to let go; some of them I would want to keep for myself, or, boy, I don't know what to do.

There could never be one single thing that could wholly express my feelings about this year, for they are mixed from one extreme to another. And these mixed feelings often contribute to my own state of confusion; about just how my life had started from one hopeful point and end up like this right here. But of course, life has its own method of having things its way without giving not even half a chance for you to assume a full control of it. Life is just a game where it ends when you die. If you are still alive, you've gotta keep playing. Worst, never with your own rules.

Nothing much can summarize my year this time around. But let's go through from the positive ones first.

I finally get my Masters of Science in Mechanical Engineering by Research after three years worth of effort. How very great. I too have been involved much in the political scenes where I have appeared before crowds and press as the SSLK UMNO Youth Information Chief. I've been in and out of the country too. My research papers started to be read and quoted internationally. Invitations came like nobody's business from various academicians and groups of interests. And now I am continuing with my PhD in Mechanical Engineering, and by the look of it I might be able to complete it just shy of a few months before I become 30 years old.

I could have never felt any better.

But on the other hand, there were also things that for all that mattered were very painful to endure. I have stood to see just how how my relationship was torn up to pieces before my very own eyes just weeks before things were to settle down for good. I have had myself on my knees from these unbelievable sights one after another. Had myself any idea of how badly it was to end, I would have never at all proceeded with it. Strange, just how I have strove this far only to see that things I wanted did not at all materialize. Nevertheless this entirely unfortunate event has to be faced with bravery and courage, and for all that happened I did not regret any of it, for every time spent on the entire affair was all well worth it.

At this point I am not very sure if being single is a good or a bad thing. But all I know is that I am now back to square one all over again, and chances are that things are going to be this way for some time until I am fully healed from these battle wounds from such an unforeseen defeat. Better a single defeat than a final one, I supposed. Or else, let's wait for miracles to happen.

All I hope is that my career in applied engineering research will be better in time. Perhaps my involvement in UMNO too will start to bear some anticipated results. Let us wish that I will be a alright again and perhaps even better in the near future. In one year time from now, I would want to read this post again and see just how much I have changed and just how many of my plans are fulfilled. Perhaps with what I have at the end of next year will be far much greater with less worries and heartaches.

I wanna be happier than I ever did too.

Let us all forgive and move on to yet another chapter in time, for better or worst doesn't matter, because we're already in the game and we're gonna face it together. Hey, we made it people, and we're gonna make yet another year, together.

You with me here?

p/s: And among every other hopes too, I hope that letter will finally reach you.

Evening Tears

2011-12-22T00:20:00.000+08:00

"So how's life?"

The rain was getting rather heavier than previously. A little soaked from the shower from heavens, I shivered a little inside my jacket. The air-conditioning unit was blowing at the most minimal, but somehow I still thought that the engineers in Perodua have had the most minimal setting to be arctic temperature. God knows what the maximum air-conditioning capacity was; I never went that far to try. The lady beside me sat comfortably albeit the frosting condition. In fact she didn't show any sign of coldness whatsoever. They said only angels and demons could warm themselves up from within; which one was her, I couldn't tell.

"Hello mister," she said to me. "I asked you a question."

"I know," I replied casually. I wasn't that deaf.

"So why didn't you answer me then?"

I turned my head to her and took a look straight into her eyes for a few joyful seconds before getting my vision back on to the wet road. That short glance sure did give her some hints. I waved at the guards as the car moved past the guard post and into the campus ground.

"You know what happened, young lady," I said without looking at her. "I do not have the capacity to express that my life is anyhow better, neither do I have the fundamental to say that my life isn't that blissful anyway."

She didn't reply. From the corner of my eyes I saw her turning around, her face was directed to me. Her wavy long hair was moved by the blowing air-conditioner. Her facial expression showed a bit of womanly concerns. There was not a word being spoken. Dead silence filled the air. Rather uncomfortable, I tried to make a conversation, but nothing came out from my dry throat and in between my dry lips. But I tried anyway.

"Where did you come from?" I asked her simply out of nothing at all.

"Makan with friends."

"Uh huh." Say something more, damn it, I lost words.

"Then when we stopped at Petronas just now, I saw you. Thought of saying hi."

If that was a hi, Rosy Cheeks, then how the hell you ended up sitting next to me now.

"Very well then," I replied. At that time the car was passing the white, floating mosque of UTP. "You still live in V1?"

She laughed a little, so I turned my head at her. My, how I missed those laughs. She covered her mouth with her palm, from which in between the fingers I could see those lovely white teeth showing. Her cheeks blushed cheerfully. Her bold eyes almost completely shut, showing just how much she was having, from me asking her if she was still living at her old block.

"You," she said in between chuckles. "V1 has become an all men territory, remember?"

And then I realized. Just how times flew all these while. It has been like two years since we last talked, since that unfortunate incident at the Old Town. Quite so suddenly all the bitter feelings resurfaced. What she did was completely way too awful to even think about. I couldn't even remember if I did forgive her. Maybe I did, that could be the reason why I let her enter the car just now. If I didn't, then how come I felt so damn comfortable having her next to me right now? I threw my face to her again.

She still looked the same, although with some observable changes. Her skin was a bit fairer than it was before, I could say that. The way she dressed showed some maturity; a pair of grey legging and a thick long-sleeved plain white tee that revealed some of her shoulder, and a hairband that kept her long hair together in a classic ponytail fashion. With good approximation i could say that that hair when released could reach the top of her belly. I could also tell that she has applied some moisturizing balm from that shiny look on her lips. She changed her watch to a rather elegant one this time - a silver body with a brown strap that looks somewhat expensive compared to her last one that looked rather kiddish. On other note was her earring; I had never seen her wearing anything like that before.

When did you grow up to be such a lady?

"I live in the same residential with you now," she said after a long pause. Probably she was being a bit taken aback from the look I gave her just now. Her blushing cheeks and running eyes confirmed that. Why, since when you grew so shy, dear you?

"Very well then," I said as I took a turn to her residential college. "Guess I'll just drop you down at the covered walkway or something."

"Now," she spoke in her softest voice. "That isn't very gentlemanly, is it?"

Damn it.

* * *

"Thank you for walking me back."

"No worries," I replied as my hands wiped off drops of water from the rain just now as we both ran from the car to the covered walkway. It got even colder to me, now that I no longer had my jacket since I gave her to cover her head and body from the rain, while I myself was soaked like a bone-dry sponge thrown into the Indian Ocean. I placed both of my hands into my jeans for warmth as we both walked towards her block, less than a hundred meter to go. I hope this would be a quick one since I was starting to feel that one of my fingers was about to catch some nasty frost bites from the freezing temperature. I couldn't stand coldness that much. Anymore colder than this and I could have sworn that I may just drop down and die from it.

She covered herself tight with the thick jacket, and as she moved her hair danced in silence. Not a sound was made other than from our footsteps and the tapping raindrops. It didn't take long for us to reach the entrance of her block, but to me the walk was almost forever. When we finally stopped, she turned around at me and tilted her head up for a bit. That eyebrows could have never been so lovely.

"I'm sorry I asked. I hope you will face it strongly." Her face showed her concerns. Or worries, I couldn't tell.

"It's alright, and I sure hope so."

Her eyes looked into mine deep, trying to dig for some comforting words or something darker, I didn't know. But I was sure that those eyes were getting a bit teary already. That eyebrows suddenly bent in sadness. And there we had it; a tear dropped out from her shiny eyes.

"What's wrong?" I never was so confused.

"Nothing," she said as she held her head down. "It has been so long."

"Sure it has." But why did you cry? Did you miss me?

"I never had the chance to say sorry before," she continued after a long pause. Her head was still looking at her feet. "I would want to, but I was so afraid."

Ah. So that was the reason for all these teary segment this rainy evening. I didn't say a word. Mixed feelings lingered upon. Another drop of tears fell, I saw it clearly. At this point I was so clueless than a little teenage girl choosing on her first brassiere. What do I say, what do I do? Do I stand here doing nothing, or do I just extend my hands to you?

"I'm sorry for all my faults. I really am," she said in her wet voice.

At this point I wasn't sure if what I was doing was right, but I proceeded anyway. Screw all these monsters of feelings, I said to myself. Yesterday's grudges will only hurt me worst, so it was about time to let it go. I placed my hand on her chin and pushed it up in the most gentle manner just so that I could look at her face clearly. That teary eyes, wet cheeks and trembling lips. My dear God, what has the world done to you, Rosy Cheeks? It hurt me to see you this way, you know? My thumb ran slowly on her soft skin, wiping her tears away. But she just won't stop crying, she even cried harder. Every time that bold eyes closed shut, more tears came out. Something broke inside me. I felt like slapping myself. Say something nice, damn it, something nice...

"Darling," I said in my softest voice. "I already forgave you long ago."

There, I said it.

"Come on, stop it already," I tried to comfort her from her miseries. "Don't cry anymore. You look so miserable this way."

She placed her hand gently on mine that then was resting on her face. It felt so warm as she gripped on my fingers. She nodded a few times fast and wiped her tears with her other hand. She gave out a smile, and I knew right away that that smile came out of relief. Suddenly all burdens were no longer there. All released. She was freed from her miseries from not being able to say things she wanted to for so long. For two bloody years. Her eyes looked at me, full with unknown meanings.

"Thank you."

* * *

When I reached my room, it was already past sunset.

I turned on the light and the room was alive again. I lit a cigarette and sat down at my chair, looking at the pouring rain outside. I had so many things in mind, but most of them was related to Rosy Cheeks. What just happened? There was no answer for that. Her face filled my mind. The sinful smoke filled the damp air. In a way, I felt better, despite the fact that I no longer have my jacket with me because she insisted to wash it first. My hands were so cold that I could bite my fingers off without feeling anything. I looked at my right hand for some time while my left one was holding the cigarette. For no reason, I pulled it close to my nose and I took a long breath.

It smelt of Rush.

Oh God.

Welcome Aboard

2011-12-21T09:35:00.001+08:00

Nothing is better than to spend some fine moments with a best friend.

A very best friend, Chubb, came yesterday. He just got back from the States following a three-week abroad assignment, and upon hearing the unfortunate news he took a train from Kuala Lumpur and all the way here after his 13-hour flight just so that he could pat me in the back like we used to do back in the old days every time each or any of us was going through our hardest moments in life. The amount of kindness he shown, priceless. But he couldn't stay long; work awaited him back in the city of sins, and he had to leave late in the evening later.

I drove him to the train station.

Along the way rain poured down like nobody's business. The road was filled with all sorts of vehicles that moved cautiously to avoid any collision whatsoever. We had long talks; the sort of talks that grown men have among themselves, deep and full of meaning. Rather emotional we were, for we have not met for so long and by the time we realized it, it was almost the time to say goodbye. Supposedly the best man of my wedding, he expressed himself in great detail and his hopes that things will be alright pretty damn soon; that all dusts will settle and everything goes back in perfect linearity. Points of view exchanged, wise words taken. The half-hour journey seemed so short.

As I walked him into the platform while having a stick of bitter cigarette during a rainy day, I saw some of the station crews having theirs at a sidewalk kiosk nearby. Familiar faces. They smiled and nodded at me, a simple gesture of respects taught by manly tradition. All around anxious passengers waited in patience. Around three minutes or so before the train arrived, and these last three minutes couldn't be anymore critical than they already were. These last three minutes could be the time when he'd tell me the words I wanted to hear. We stopped at the end of the station and I leaned against a big metal pole as Chubb searched for his ticket. He found it seconds later.

"This," he said as he showed it to me, "is a one way ticket."

I nodded in agreement.

"And this one way ticket takes me to only one destination. To get to another, I have to get another ticket."

I nodded again.

"You have had your ticket, Jack," he continued as he folded the paper and placed it safely in his pocket. "Your last ticket has expired now. This is your last destination. But it doesn't mean you have to end up here forever."

"I see what you mean, brother." I looked into his meaningful eyes.

Then some clinking sounds were heard. From afar we saw the train approaching the platform fast. He then looked again at me, and so did I to him.

"Get yourself a new ticket to a new place, brother. Don't stay here. There are new destinations in life to explore."

"And I can never thank you enough."

"Save it," he said to me as the the train entered the platform, braking down to a complete halt. The smell of burnt rubber stroke my nose. Hissing sound followed next. He stared at me for a little while.

"Till we meet again," he said.

He showed me his hand and I shook it tightly. We hugged and we patted each other in the back while we were. I could have sworn that both of us was holding our tears back. All the memories we had together since the past nine years flashed before our eyes fast. The fact that we grew up together so close to understand each other to the finest without having to have a single word spoken hit us that very moment. What I felt, he felt it too, and what he did, I did. We let go of each other and we stood facing one another in a very gentleman posture, mostly suggested to be practiced during which men were to say goodbyes. The train doors all opened in a synchronized fashion.

"Till do," I said. "Have a safe trip, man, goodbye and godspeed."

"Godspeed to you too, sir," he curved a bitter smile on his lips. "And goodbye."

He turned around and entered the coach and sat down after placing his bags securely at the top baggage compartment. The train only stopped for one and a half minute. The doors slammed shut, the horn was blown, and the train was back in motion again. Through the thick glass window I saw him looking away. Bitter goodbyes could never get any bitter. Probably he didn't want me to see his face the same way I didn't want him to see mine. He slowly disappeared as the train moved further away.

And I wept a little.

* * *

The journey back could have never been anymore lonelier.

Another cigarette lit. Sinful smoke filled the air inside the car, mixed with the ever so refreshing smell of the rain. Sundae (I named my car Sundae) dashed on the road fast as the lingering feelings troubled me to an unbearable point. So many things in mind left unspoken. So many words left unsaid. A complete numbness raged within. Every concrete slab I saw along the way looked at me as if they were saying, "come on, hit on us, it will be painful no more." Pain was such a painful word. In all extremes, pain could still never disappear. Suddenly there was a blinking light next to the odometer.

Low fuel.

Lucky enough I was about to enter UTP that very moment, so the nearest pump station was the one next to the campus ground. I parked my car at the usual place - pump no. 4 - and proceeded to the counter. I filled up the fuel quickly since it was still raining outside and I couldn't stand the weather. I looked around and there was only another car next to me that just arrived for the same purpose I was doing. A bunch of young ladies in there, I couldn't see clearly. Not that I bothered much. Once done, I placed the pump back at its holder and plugged in the fuel cap of my car, and secured the fuel inlet cover. I got into the car and closed the door quickly for I long for the pleasant warmth air in it. I was preparing for ignition when there was a few knocks on the window at the passenger side.

I looked to my left only to see a lady standing near, just her body and never her face at first. I rolled the window down and she slowly bent over to show her face. That shiny lips. And that familiar face. That eyes, that fringe. That very memorable smile, a pair of dimple showing. A rather neat row of teeth followed her unforgettable smile. And that cheeks. That cheeks.

"Can I share a ride with you?"

She stood there smiling at me while I froze into complete silence. I didn't know how my face looked like at that very point, but for all I knew it must shown glimpses of confusions. Many unanswered questions came shooting. What do I say, what do I do? Of all the people, must it be you? After a few more seconds I got a grip of myself again and I tried, hard, to smile back as my finger unlocked the car. Her face looked so mesmerizing. Oh how I missed you.

"Well why not," I said.

Welcome aboard, Rosy Cheeks.

See?

2011-12-18T20:40:00.001+08:00

I could have never felt so blessed.

Can't imagine just how so many people poured their loves on me just so that I could get better in no time following the series of unfortunate events that struck me hard weeks ago. Without these people, I could have gone nuts by now.

There's no way I could do to repay your kindness. But I am sure Allah will.

I've been better. As the picture above which was taken two days back shows, I am living myself well. Despite the fact that my daily sleeping time have reduced from 6 to 3 hours and that I have lost 10kg so far, I could have never been any better.

Thanks, loves, for your cares and attentions.

Given much time and faith, I am pretty sure that I will be up to sketch soon enough. With all your helps and kindness through this dark path of mine I currently am travelling on, it makes recovery speedier than anticipated. Your generosity will always be remembered, and I could have never really expressed just how thankful I am.

Thank you. I love you all.

See? I'm smiling.

Promises for Tomorrows

2011-12-18T09:15:00.001+08:00

Days gone by calmly. The weather has been very kind these days. Not being able to sleep anymore on a normal basis, I often found myself awake at wee odd hours, having nothing to do but to observe my surroundings. Sooner than I thought, I started to see just how things around me changed all these times without me noticing. How the trees around me grew so much, how the paint started to flake off my walls, how the things in my room have changed places. How I missed so much to notice all these little things. More disturbingly, just how I noticed a friend changed so much.

I took an effort to visit him after all these years.

I stared at him in silent. How I miss you, buddy. But those cold eyes looked back at me, dead. He looked so tired. For years I knew him, he was never this weatherbeaten. I looked at him with no expression at all, and no expression too was returned. I looked at just how his face have changed over time. He used to smile a lot. He used to laugh loudly, he cared for nothing. But in front of me now was a reflection of somebody else. Somebody new. Somebody I didn't know much just yet. Somebody I missed to notice all these while. I tried to smile. He didn't smile back.

Who are you? Why don't you smile?

Strange, just how a person can change so much in just split seconds. And I failed to notice this, just how lonely and miserable he is. He kept on throwing me empty responses, empty look. Not a word was spoken. A familiar face, how come no more familiar like before? What have the world done to you, I wondered. Seeing that tired and exhausted face, I died a little inside. Had I known how to help. Had I but known.

Those dead eyes kept on staring back. His brownish skin showed clear paleness. Dry and flaky lips stuck together, unmoved. They didn't make a smile, didn't scowl either. A straight face that made it harder to tell his true feelings. Like a mannequin. Like a madman. Like a dead man. What happened to you friend, what made you become like this? How come you are no longer the person I used to know?

Do you still know me? Do you still remember?

Do you remember the times we had? The laughs we shared? All the good times back in the days where we cared for nothing, together you and me? We used to spend time with each other so much until we took our own ways, for times I didn't remember, to places I didn't know, for reasons I don't understand. Separated, we made our way back again, why aren't you happy, old buddy? I smiled at you but why, why didn't you smile back at me? Where have gone the warm and firm handshakes, the pats in the back? What happened to the friendliness we had?

What did I do? Was it me or was it you?

Perhaps time changed us so much. Maybe we have went through too much. We became bitter, we lost our smiles. Our hearts were broken so many times over, no chances to recover at all. Perhaps we have seen so many terrible things that killed us from within. Perhaps we have seen just way too many shattered and forgotten dreams. Empty and broken promises. Perhaps we stopped to believe, we stopped to trust. The fears inside that we failed to realize. Perhaps the fire in us died so long ago, only remaining ashes left. Perhaps our spirits were slaughtered once, twice, many times, only to be revived again for yet another massacre. Perhaps we were so disappointed with life and the way things are going. We both went through all that, but we survived, right? We made to hell and back, right? Right?

But why didn't you smile back at me?

I had never seen you so beaten up this badly, old friend. You used to be so strong. So brave. You feared nothing. I only did leave you for a little while, and you became this? I'm sorry I didn't care much about you when I departed, while I was away. I'm sorry I never came back to say hi even for a while. The fact that I never visited. Perhaps we can make it better this time, old chap. We spent so much time together, both of us are back being single, perhaps this time we can make it better? I took a look at him, hoping for an answer. I hoped that he would believe what I said, I hope he would smile back at me. Come on, man, don't be so hard on me. Yesterday was just a nightmare, today it'd be better, tomorrow it better be. I give you my words for that. No more loneliness, no more empty promises. I curved him a smile, a most sincere one. Hopefully he'll smile back this time, for mercy I bid.

And finally the reflection in the mirror did.

And That Is All

2011-12-15T12:09:00.001+08:00

In every broken heart, there's always still some words left unspoken.

Now these words, if left unspoken and kept within, will progressively consume the soul of the owner of the broken heart. Therefore, for the best of self, one must decide to pour all of them out before more damages are done. In the hopes of my well being, I must let out of most of the things I previously kept within me, and by luck, I hope that what I am going to convey will ease myself in the pursuit for inner peace.

And I hope this will be the end of all suffering.

* * *

Autumn,

The past 495 days were the most wonderful time I had in my whole life. It was the longest and most serious relationship I have ever had, and nothing I could repay you for the kindness, love and care that you have shown to me beyond your every capability. All the times spent together, I truly enjoyed and remembered as our experiences and memories for all these days and nights. Bittersweet, doesn't matter. Every story has two sides of perspective, one or another. Every dream and hopes, every laugh and smile, I treasure them greatly. Every good moments shared together will be remembered, and so will the fights and arguments we had that in time brought us even more closer as days went by.

Feelings grew fonder when we were separated for a while, and even more stronger when we were together.

All the dates we went for, all the diners we went to, all spoken words and promises, I treasure them all. All the songs I sang for you, all the notes I wrote, the gifts, the flowers, all the hugs and kisses, and all the love I showered for you, they were all sincere and without prejudice. All the tears shed for you, they were all from my truest feelings, nothing left hidden. How lovely you were to me. And how I missed all our conversations.

I honestly miss you. How I missed your voice.

Life was very difficult when you left. With fading hopes, I woke up every morning and slept every night thinking of you. Emotions got the best of me, and drowned in my own fears and disappointments I buried myself deep in my own pit of sorrow begging for miracles to happen. Every minutes or so looking at the cold iron gate of home, hoping that you will, for every good or bad reason, appear there like you used to. Every second staring at the still and silent phone, hoping that it will ring with good news from you. And as much as hoping for rocks to form into butter, none of these happened.

I had only hopes.

Loneliness came blanketing. I don't know how you are doing. Maybe you have had moved on. Maybe you don't suffer at all. Perhaps feelings have faded. Perhaps feelings have changed. A real sad case to examine, knowing that we used to be so close, now that we are back as strangers to each other. Not even a last goodbye. Not even a single word of anything. Not even a single chance to look at you for the last time. As you drove away into the darkest night, I stood by myself watching you go, at a place where our love first bloomed, the same place where our love finally shattered. I didn't have the chance to wave at you.

You left so early. I had so much to say.

Mistakes were made, and we learned from them. Being a human myself, I could never be the perfect man you desperately wanted. Hours passed, thinking of what went wrong. Perhaps I didn't show how much I loved you. Perhaps I didn't let you know how much I valued your soothing presence. Perhaps I never did let you know just how much I love your smiles and the way you laugh. The way you looked at me and uttered those lovely words. Perhaps I never showed you how much I missed you through my stormy nights. Perhaps I wasn't being the man you ought me to be. Perhaps I wasn't the man you thought you'd marry.

Loneliness. Unloved. Perhaps our story was just a plain lie.

Strange, just how I am at the lowest part of my life when I am actually achieving in a lot of things. The dreams I shared with you, the futures we planned together, the life we wanted to have, none of them become a reality. The names of our sons and daughters that we never going to have. Around me the smell of you still lingers. Fresh as if it was from just last night. I could still feel the warmth of your skin, and your voice whispering into my cold ears. I could still hear you calling for me, and as I turn around, you are not there. Hoping for the impossibles, could never really hit me that well.

Hardest were the days without you.

But I can't be like this forever. I can take a few tears and pretend as if things are alright. Confused and lost, I have nothing else to lose. I've got to come to terms with the fact that you are no longer here, and that I am to walk this road alone again, carrying my hopes and dreams to unknown futures. I have loved you within my best capacity, and I have expressed myself so much by wanting to marry you. I have taken care of you sincerely with pride and responsibility. I have cared for you and your whole family, and all I wanted was just the best for us. Perhaps those were just not enough to satisfy. Perhaps I was so wrong I could no longer be right. Perhaps everything I did and anything I do now never really matter at all. Perhaps the love I had for you worth nothing of expense.

I still love you you know.

But I have to let you go. I have to let you go. Although I can still see you everywhere, I've got to move on. It hurts the most. Maybe there are better plans for us in the future. Maybe we'll meet again. Maybe we'll end up with somebody else. Maybe one day in a few years we'll look back again and wonder about each other. Maybe we'll never look back at all. Maybe we'll remember, maybe we'll just forget. Maybe we'll smile at what we have ever had. Maybe one of us will leave this world first, and all I've had for you are neverending prayers. Maybe we'll never move on. Maybe we will. Maybe we will never love again. Maybe we will. Uncertainties. Regrets. Sorrowful sorry. Come long miseries.

I wish you all the best in life and in whatever you do. I hope that you will finally find the man you really wanted to spend your whole life with. I hope that all of your dreams will come true, with or without me. I hope that you will take a good care of yourself. I hope that you will study hard and achieve what you work for. Thank you again for all the cherished memories. I had good times with you. All my smiles, laughs and tears, I regret nothing. I forgive you, and you know where to find me comes one day when you need me the most. But for now, Autumn, I'm letting you go. I have to let you go. I'm sorry, and I let you go. I never did leave you, but when you did leave me, I have no choice but to let you go.

Don't worry about me, I will be alright. I hope I will.

One day I will.

So Julie

2011-12-15T05:00:00.000+08:00

So Julie,
Now that we were wrong,
I'm sorry that it took so long.

So Julie, when you think of me,
Does it come to mind,
We're living in the same room,
In the same house,
On the same street,
In the same town?

So why don't you come and dance awhile?
So why don't you come and dance awhile?

Words

2011-12-14T18:59:00.000+08:00

"Because at the end of the day, there are just too many words in me that are left unspoken. And I ought you to know that these words I keep so closely in myself all these times are meant for you to fully understand, because in between these words there are dreams and hopes, wishes and blessings, love and sincerity, and in between these words too, there is me."

p/s: Please bear with me. These few days, if not weeks or months, this blog will be full with my saddening nonsense.

The Hardest Two Weeks

2011-12-14T18:32:00.000+08:00

Life is full with mysteries. To those who have lived long enough, they will realize that there were a lot of things that often went unexplained by means of logic and science. And often too these unexplained mysteries bore a lot of speculations; some were correct, some were not.

I have went missing for a period of two weeks.

Sometimes being honest with self is the hardest, while being honest to others in second hardest thing to do. After taking two long weeks to be honest with myself, I today take the courage to be honest with all of you who often come and visit this blog in a regular basis from time to time. And as I carefully arrange my words in order not to offend anyone nor myself, my mind runs like a failing clockwork. My sore eyes try hard to open, and my trembling fingers work their way to convey what I am going to say next.

Hardest were the last two weeks.

Love is a delicate matter. When two souls love each other, they start to float to up above the high clouds in happiness and joy. Life seems to be so easygoing and practically charming to deal with. Nothing seems to matter at all but love; love that completes one another and perfects the imperfections of each other.

But as love starts to fade, there comes the falling rain and thunder. There comes the windy storm and tormenting typhoon. Everything seems to be so wrong in order. Bit by bit the holding hands give away, and the two lovers are thrown away from one another, often so close, yet so far away. And the eternal flight ends immediately, as these two lovers fall fast from the sky and smash into the ground, deep into the deepest pits of sorrow. Alone by self in the dark.

Miserable best describes what I feel inside.

It has been two long weeks since I smiled widely. Since I was ever so bloody happy. Since I was so much in love. Since I was so at the peak of my life. Since perfection was perfectly perfect.

But now, nothing was more lonely than my late nights and my early mornings, and very much in between. Nothing was more empty than my heart now, if there is still any bit of it left, and nothing is more broken than my heart now, if there is still any other bit of it around. Gone were the days of everlasting love; the shared smiles, laughter and dreams. Gone were the warmth and the protective shrouds of shelter. Thunderstorms over my head, breaking grounds below my feet. The future seems so cloudy now; confused, uncertain, indecisive.

As much as I wept over what had happened, deep inside I know that there is nothing else that can be done to undo all these mess. Needless to say, there is still so much explanations to be done to a lot of people who are anticipating the incoming big day just a few more weeks from now. Whatever it is, what has to be done has to be done, and with a cold heart I walked from one person to another to inform that there will be no such thing anymore. And the receptions I received were mixed; some were shocked, some were sympathetic, some were neutral, some were supportive, while some other laughed. People being people. Being an imperfect man I am, I take all the blame and responsibilities from what happened.

I have to.

Looking at how my mom cried and how my dad reacted to the news, my almost-healed heart torn apart into so many pieces. If only those empty door gift boxes could cry too. The long lists of guests. The gloomy walls of despair and sorrows. And almost everything else. I have to be strong, because if I don't, I will only cause many other heartbreaks.

Never mind my heart. Never mind my heart anymore.

Had I a chance to turn back time, no matter how physically impossible, I would have had. I would have looked after our mistakes and mend them before they went beyond control. Had I a chance to love better, I would. Had I a chance to be a man that makes everything perfectly, I would have. Had I a chance to love again, I would have. Blame it on me, I take all of them with open arms and open hearts, and may I will be strong and patience in order to walk through yet another Allah's test to me. May my eyes one day stop weeping, and may one day my nightmares stop haunting. May the readers accept this as Allah's fate and please do not blame anybody else but myself. May all be well again, insya Allah.

You left so quickly. I had so much to say.

I am so very sorry my all dear friends, but there will be no wedding for me this time around.

p/s: I will remove all the posts once I am strong enough to face all these. In the mean time, they will stay as they are. Please kindly understand.

Happiness

2011-11-26T20:58:00.001+08:00

I woke up early this morning.

Didn't even remember what happened last night.

With the first cup of coffee as early as at 6.45am and a few bitter cigarettes, I started working. I started doing all the readings, the inspections, the calculations. Mathematics, conceptual engineering, philosophies, sciences, in pursuit of dreams.

Didn't even notice the sun rose.

Didn't even notice the sunset either.

Cloaked from everything, from the surrounding. Nothing else mattered. Nothing ever did. More coffee. More cigarettes. More thinking. In my mind was empty. Entire numbness. I was a robot. I was a machine. Numbers danced on changing empty papers. My eyes weren't alive anymore.

Bohr. Einstein. Planck. Eddington. Basu. Vijay.

The barrier of mind limits were broken.

I didn't want to feel. I didn't want to heal. I just wanted to remember. And be remembered.

I'm happier this way.

The clock is now showing 9.00pm.

And my hands are still scribbling.

Happiness. Would you stay longer?

Because all we wanted was just a bit more.

Problem?

2011-11-16T05:07:00.001+08:00

Checkmate

2011-11-16T04:06:00.001+08:00

Satu Perjuangan, Satu Harapan

2011-11-15T22:56:00.001+08:00

Assalamualaikum, Hello and Salam 1Malaysia,

It has been quite a while since I last wrote in an elaborated manner. Time has not been very kind to me, as I always saw myself struggling to keep up with it these days. Fortunately, today I have some extra time that I can wisely spend on updating this otherwise dusty blog.

It would be noticeable by now that I am an UMNO member.

My entrance into UMNO was only recently; I registered in 2009 under the Seri Setia Lembah Keramat (SSLK) branch. However, my involvement with the party has began since 2002 when I was in MRSM Jasin. In June that year, a very drastic change in UMNO had occurred where the nation saw how Dato' Seri Dr. Mahathir Mohamad, now carrying the title Tun, announced his resignation from all posts in Barisan Nasional (BN) and the party during its annual assembly. I, along with other surprised students, watched his announcement that was aired on the evening news when we were about to have our early dinner that day.

That day, some of us shed tears while watching the news. You can find the clips of this in the following video attachments:

News clip from TV3

As taken from spectators' seatings

My history with UMNO did not only start when Tun M announced his resignation. It started when I first got to know about the party movement from my own parents. My mother then worked in Kementerian Belia & Sukan (KBS), where as a child I used to roam the office floor, playing and meeting with a lot of now very prominent figures such as Dato' Seri Mohd Najib Razak (used to give me 50 cents for no reasons every time I met him), Tan Sri Annuar Musa and Dato' Abdul Ghani Othman, who then all were the ministers of KBS. One of my good friend there was Dato' Seri Dr. Ahmad Zahid Hamidi who then was the political secretary of Dato' Seri Najib Razak.

At home, both my parents introduced me with a lot of information on UMNO and the BN. Both being avid UMNO supporters guided me in knowing my roots and my journey in the future. This of course strengthen my foundation as a politically-savvy kid, but it was not until one day when I was accompanying my mother looking for furniture in Subang Parade when we came across a man, along with two of his bodyguards, whom my mother told me to shake and kiss his hand. He then put his hand on my little head and advised me to study hard. At that time, I have no idea of, or even if I did, I never realize his importance in my life. The identity of this man will be revealed later in this writing.

When I was in university starting 2003, I was exposed to many political news. In 2003, the sentiment against the BN government was still evidently showing, mostly due to the dismissal of Dato' Seri Anwar Ibrahim from the cabinet back in 1998 due to his sodomy case. Many knew that I came from an UMNO family, and I was not spared from the public bashing by the opposition supporters among the students. However I continued my journey in the open as an UMNO kid, facing mixed opinions from others, most of them were negative. After one point, I decided to stay low for my own safety.

Later in 2008 when the result of the general election was aired, I was in my room at the university watching the television, where one after another seat was lost to the opposition. The BN lost four states as a result to this. This major losses have caused many, including myself, to accept them in complete disbelief. I had been trashed by many opposition-supporting students whom all of them were Malays. I was in my final year at the time. In that year too, I met again with the man who placed his hand on my head when I was little and advised me to study hard. This time, we both shook hands before he handed me my degree in engineering as the chancellor of the university. The smile on his face I cannot forget, let alone the feelings in my heart at that time.

The Chancellor of Universiti Teknologi PETRONAS, taken at my graduation dinner, 2008.

In 2009, as the local political scene started to show a lot of critical changes, my awareness became significant enough to encourage me to enter the field. I handed in my membership form to Datuk Hj. Mohd. Kassim Othman, the SSLK branch head through my mother, the branch secretary of Pergerakan Wanita UMNO. At that point, my journey in politic made its first formal step.

My mother (first from left) as the Wanita UMNO SSLK secretary during a meeting

Even as a beginner, I had numerous supports from many people. I started to get involved with a lot of activities hosted by the branch and also by the residents to get to know people and offered help whenever necessary. I started to give out information on many things to clear out confusions and to gain back their confidence in the Barisan. And slowly the people started to realize just how the state administration has abused its power in governing the state, and they are willing to change by voting for the Barisan in the next coming election to again bring back order and balance to the state, other than to have a better administration.

My most active year is 2011, where I was involved in many activities both held by UMNO and residential committee. The following pictures and accompanying details explain:

With the Pemuda and Puteri members during Kem Jati Diri Pemuda dan Puteri UMNO SSLK
at Dusun Eco Resort on 23-24 July 2011.

While answering questions from the spectators after giving a speech
at Kem Jati Diri Pemuda dan Puteri UMNO SSLK

While attending Rumah Terbuka Hari Raya Aidilfitri anjuran Gabungan 8910 SSLK,
an NGO that supports UMNO movement at my home area. I am also a member in this NGO.

With Naib Ketua Pemuda UMNO Gombak (3rd from left), Ketua UMNO Cawangan SSLK and Bendahari Perkasa Selangor, Datuk Haji Mohd Kassim Othman (blue shirt), Ketua Penerangan UMNO Gombak, Ismail Ahmad (3rd from right) and Exco Gabungan 8910, Tuan Sallehuddin Mashor (2nd from right) during Acara Mengacau Dodol anjurang Gabungan 8910 SSLK.

With Datin Sharifah Salmah Syed Agil, Ketua Pergerakan Wanita UMNO Gombak during Acara Mengacau Dodol anjuran Gabungan 8910. This event involved 5 huge craters or kawahs of dodol and 50 participants. Each crater produced 50 to 60 kg of dodol to be donated to members and residents.

My latest involvement. Taken during I was giving a speech representing UMNO Gombak to spectators from UMNO Gombak and UMNO Baling in Persidangan Meja Bulat Perwira UMNO held in Kuala Kangsar on 11-13 November 2011.

With (from left) the Persidangan Meja Bulat Perwira UMNO program secretaria and an UMNO Veteran Pak Zawawi, an accompanying representative from UMNO SSLK who is also my psychological warfare specialist, Muhd Amin Sahak and Ketua Wira Perkasa Selangor, Mohd Nor Safar Mohd Darus.

At this current moment, I am the assistant secretary of Pusat Daerah Mengundi (PDM) DUN Hulu Klang for the upcoming PRU13. I also have been given the responsibility as the Ketua Penerangan Pemuda UMNO SSLK and an UMNO cybertrooper along with Muhd Amin in the last picture above to work on the psychological warfare for PRU13.

My involvement in UMNO aims at helping my generation to face the dog-eat-dog world by providing them with information and knowledge about Malaysia's political scene, other than to motivate the elderly to continue supporting the Barisan and the Youth. I am one of relatively very few Malays who are proceeding towards the world of higher academics by enrolling for a PhD. With my knowledge, I believe that I can be a good help towards the society by means of knowledge sharing, for I am aware that not many has the opportunity I've got.

The government has helped me since I was born, and it is time for me to return the favor by improving the system for a better tomorrow. Although UMNO is a party specifically for the Malays, I offer help to anyone who comes to me regardless of their race. In Malaysia today, BN aims for a united Malaysia, hence 1Malaysia, in order to strengthen the nation's integrity and well-being. In fact I have offered many academical assistance to Malays and non-Malays, international students included, with my expertise to ensure their brighter tomorrows. As also a Barisan Nasional supporter, I have the responsibility to help Malaysians, and not only Malays, as long as it is within my capacity and does not compromise any of the government policy and people's harmony.

My hopes are that Malaysians can live in peace despite our differences, and together we build a better Malaysia by doing something that matters to the country. We have seen so many people trying to destroy our nation, including our own people, and it is time for us to hold hands and make a change that leads to a long time harmony for the people and not only just for a small portion that may jeopardize the people as a whole. I don't believe that by changing the government as a whole will change anything. The oppositions cannot even control their own people nowadays, how can we give them the mandate to govern an entire nation? The existing government has been here for long as has since worked effectively. It only needs a few improvements here and there, and I am sure that by choosing for the Barisan, Malaysia will be ready for greater challenges of tomorrow.

Make a change. It starts today.

"BN PILIHAN GENERASI MUDA"

"SAYANGI SELANGOR, YAKINI BARISAN NASIONAL."

Eleven

2011-11-11T11:11:00.001+08:00

This post is published on the 11th second of the 11th minute of the 11th hour on the 11th day of the 11th month in the 11th year in the second millennium.

The Curious Case of The Bullet In The Head

2011-09-16T00:24:00.002+08:00

At the beginning of the day today I read about what happened to the cop who once shot an underage kid right in the head some time back. I am very much assured by my own instincts that most of you who read this introduction are well aware of the current matter.

Frankly enough, I am not fully informed about the case, so some of my arguments here could be misdirecting. So to the readers, I open the session should you think you want to contribute something in the discussion. Bear in mind that you may, or you may not, agree with all of the arguments here, and should you want to leave a comment or two, I dearly hope that you will keep to the common ethics and manner in the blogging world.

The discussion is based on my own way of thinking and may not be suitable to people who think otherwise. I have contemplated on the matter for some time and I did not write this ad hoc, but with a series of clear and thorough assessment of information I have access to regarding the matter.

The discussion here will follow a certain order of storytelling, and it might be quite extensive, so please feel free to read it if you find it interesting for your own study.

1. Event Chronology

According to the friend of the deceased [1] who was in the car with him during the night of event, he claimed that the deceased invited him out in a Proton Iswara driven by the deceased [2] to assist a friend with a punctured motorcycle tire [3]. The friend testified [3] that his father was not home at the time and that he "sneaked out at about midnight".

At a restaurant, the car [2] that the deceased drove grazed into another car, causing the deceased to get scared and decided to flee home to return the car to his sister and later meet his mother, even though the friend tried to convince him to stop and meet the car owner [3].

They fled the scene [3] only to later realize that they were pursued by a group of 3 to 5 motorcyclist [3] -- one of them was claimed to crash onto the back of the car [1] however denied by the accused [6]-- only to bump into a police car from which, the deceased, overtook[1]. The deceased was claimed to be driving well and fast at 100-120km/h by the key witness whose trip was the second with the deceased. This triggered the police patrol car to begin pursuing and instructed the car to slow down and stop at the side of the road, the cops testified in court, adding that the siren and beacon lights were turned on as well [4]. However the car did not show any sign to stop.

Another patrol car joined the pursuit and tried to overtake the deceased's car but to no avail, although they were travelling at around 140km/h [4]. The unfruitful attempt to stop the car led to the cops to open fire some 21-shots from MP5 sub-machine gun, some of which hit the car tire and later the deceased's head, leading to his sudden death. The deceased's friend managed to escape although claimed he was assaulted by a number of policemen [1] and was threatened to be shot at after the count of three [3].

The next day a police statement [1] was made, accusing of both offenders to be criminals. A nationwide shock hit the country when the young escapee appeared [1] to clear the issues. Later in court, the deceased's sister testified that the deceased did not have a driving license [5]. The police was claimed to have come up with several allegations about the deceased, including the deceased trying to ram into police car and that a long blade was found hidden under the car seat, which were denied by the family and friend of the deceased [5, 6, 7]. The police later cleared on the matter that the cop that was accused to murder the deceased should have not open fire [1] due to unconfirmed status of the subject in pursuit. It was only later that a specialist expressed his thought that the cops intention was only to immobilize the car [8].

2. My Theories

After reading the articles in the newspaper (I attach some of them from Star Online for a quicker reference) about the case, I did come up with a few theories based on the available information. My theories and opinions about the case were mainly about the two main subjects in the case: the chasing cops, and the deceased and his friend who got chased. I discuss them in the following subsections.

2.1 The Chased

I personally think that the case could end faster if the deceased stopped the car the night of the incident. He had received instructions from the cops to slow down and stop but hesitated to, although his friend advised him to. He instead tried to escape at high speed. This may be because the deceased was in panic after he:-

a) scratched a sport car (it was a Celica) and fled
b) chased by a gang of bikers from the Celica scene
c) took over a patrol car at high speed
d) drove a car without a license and parents/guardian permission

One of the bikers testified that the deceased was a skillful driver judging from the way he drove, although he also agreed that the deceased, from the same way he drove, may impose dangers to other traffic users [6].

2.2 The Chaser

Imagine if you are a cop driving on a quiet night when a car overtakes you at high speed and refuses to stop even though warning has been given and sirens and lights have been turned on: what would you do? Given the responsibility you have, you might chase the car down with curiosities growing in you. Your intention may be to make the car stop for further investigation, but with the accused car not stopping even when you are later accompanied by a second patrol car, you may think that you need to take the necessary measure to stop the car in question to:-

a) investigate the car and the people in it
b) eliminate the possibility that the accused car may harm other human beings
c) take necessary measure on crime, should the person(s) in car was a criminal

Although the police agreed that they should have not opened fire due to lack of evidence, the cops did, maybe due to these factors:-

a) thinning patience from the long chase
b) awareness that the car had to be stopped to prevent possible accidents or fleeing suspects
c) they thought, based from the driving skills, the suspect was a skillful driver that could possibly not be an underage teenager
d) the cops were trigger-happy cops.

2.3 How Things Went Wrong

The main things that should not happen but they did during the night of event where the teen was shot dead from a bullet in the head. The identified things are listed as the following:-

a) The deceased should not be driving without a license and permission by the owner of the vehicle
b) The cops should have not opened fire although his intention may to only immobilize the suspect's vehicle
c) the witnesses should have not come out with false facts about the incident i.e. (if true) the blade, the deceased reversing his car, the biker hitting the deceased's car.

Chronologically, the series of event can be recognized as the following:-

a) the deceased drove out without license and permission
b) the deceased brought a friend who sneaked out from home
c) the deceased grazed into a Toyota Celica and fled the accident
d) the deceased was chased by a gang of bikers
e) the deceased overtook a police car
f) the deceased did not stop the car when instructed and advised to
g) the deceased drove dangerously at high speed
h) the deceased was shot dead

It can be assessed that the deceased was under extreme pressure and due to his lack of information in dealing with such chain of events, he made one mistake after another that led to his own death, that the court later found to be a mistake done by the accused cop, causing the alleged a five-year sentence in jail, and his job and benefits.

3. My Opinions

Somewhat, I tried to trace down the root of the cause of event by looking at just how the event occurred, which by now most of you can see by now:- the decision made by the deceased to step out from home at midnight and drove around in a car without the owner's permission, and most importantly, without a license.

That is one fact that we have to face. He committed that mistake, and he was fated to die from that just one bullet - a mistake by the cop later found guilty.

Some says that the cop deserves the punishment for taking one unfortunate (I wouldn't say innocent) life. Now, as an ex-government servant, he is now to be imprisoned, and as a result lost his job and pension, future job prospect, has to be away from his wife and kids for five years, and worst, to face the society once released. And by looking at just how the majority portion of our society treats ex-criminals, if I were him, I rather die in prison.

Lets put it this way:

a) Lets say that the deceased was not an underage kid but an adult who, only later after the shooting, was found to be a criminal. Would the society blame the police for shooting him even when the police did not have any evidence that he was a criminal at the time of the shooting)? Would his death become a sensation like what happened to the deceased kid?

b) Lets say the deceased caused an accident to other traffic users or killed some passers-by during the high-speed chase. Would the society blame the police for not stopping the car during the pursuit? Would the society blame the deceased? Or would the society blame the legal guardian of the deceased? What happens to the dead traffic users or passers-by?

c) Lets say that the biker gangs managed to get their hands on the deceased and his friend and whacked the hell out of them. Who would be blamed here then? The cops for not being around? The biker gangs for whacking underage kids? The kids who were supposed to be at home and not sneaking out driving around without license? Or the guardians of the kids for not being able to control them?

d) Lets say you were the cops. As the chase was getting more dangerous and there was not any other way to stop the chased vehicle, and that the vehicle was imposing threats to traffic users, themselves and yourselves, and that you have had no idea where or when exactly the chase will stop, what would you do? You were full with adrenaline and you did not know if you were able to make it home to your family that night. You did not have a clear view of the person who was driving the chased car; was it an adult, an underage kid, a woman, a transvestite, a full-grown goat, or could it be a can of ashtray? You just want the chase to end before anything even worst happens. What would you do?

4. What Can We Learn

There are a lot of things we can learn from this case, as listed:

a) Eyes on your kids, eyes on your vehicles. Responsibility starts at home.
b) When you graze someone's car, stop to apologize to the owner and pay for the repair.
c) If you hit someone's car and you run away, you might be chased by a gang of bikers
d) If you take over patrol car at high speed, chances are you will be chased.
e) Listen to your friends. Sometimes, they are damn right.
f) If the cops want you to stop, you better shut up and just do as instructed or you're gonna get it
g) Before driving any vehicle, make sure you have the valid license for it
h) If you are a cop, you are not supposed to shoot at any car during high speed chase without strong evidences that you are chasing a criminal, even when the chased car could kill a hundred more innocent lives
i) If you don't stop when the cops tell you to, as previously stressed, you're gonna get it
j) An Iswara can still be driven with good control even when one of its tire is shot with a bullet
k) Don't sneak out from home driving someone's car without permission and license at midnight just to help some friends with punctured tires, because it is not worth the outcomes
l) If you are a teenager were to die in such unfortunate event, the cop who did it will get 5 in the hole, lost his job and his reputation for your death

Solitude 2.0

2011-08-26T13:10:00.000+08:00

This would be the third week I have been at home in Kuala Lumpur.

Come to think of it, this could be the longest period I've ever been at home since my undergraduate years, where usually the semester break may reach up to more than a month and a half long. Life after graduation saw me living by myself in UTP as I continued my study back in 2008, where I mostly spent my days in laboratories and the likes, very less likely at home.

And this three weeks could be the longest three weeks in my life.

Nothing much happened at home, really, other than me completing my thesis writing every sleepless night all by myself. Although I've tried to make my life here rather interesting, it seemed not to happen as I most anticipated. Following a few surprising failures, I started to think that maybe this place is not quite right for me to be at this current moment, or perhaps for long.

Maybe this isn't where I belong.

Perhaps I live better alone, no? Come to think of it again, my life in UTP wasn't all bad. No, it wasn't bad at all. Apart from the setback that I live all by myself, I feel freer there. Not to say that I am imprisoned here at home, but there are some things I usually did in UTP but I cannot simply do here i.e. blasting the speakers, reading all day long etc. Well I don't know. Perhaps I prefer living by myself better.

No people. No commitment. No worries. No need to please and be pleased. No need to lie and be lied upon. No need to communicate. Utter silence. No words. No smiles. No frowns. No love. No hate. Just stillness. Coldness. Long darkness. Unfulfilled. Empty. No good feelings. No bad feelings. Indifference. Endless coffee stream. Flaming cigarette burns. Tantric music in the background. No surprises. No promises. Nothing. Nothing at all. I can do whatever the hell I want without subjecting to anybody's criticisms nor sensitivity.

What is wrong with me? I don't know.

Maybe I think too much. Or maybe I worry too much. I lost my calmness. I lost content. Maybe I know too much. Maybe I tolerate too much. Maybe I care too much too. Well what do I know, what do I do? Everything seems to always be wrong to you. Maybe I don't deserve this. Well who knows? Maybe I deserve worst than what this life so far shows.

I miss my small, decent crib in UTP.

That place doesn't have much, anyway. But it has so far supplied me with generous happiness to ease my endless sorrow, and a wholesome of companion to fill my lonely days. Strange, just when a lot of people miss home, I miss my room. Perhaps to me, that room is home? Maybe it is. I hardly feel sick there. Let alone getting heartbroken. There's nothing else I crave for now than the love that place usually has in reserve for me. Because they said home is where the heart is.

Well, maybe it's about time to finally head home.

* * *

We have done a lot of growing up,
We were never meant to be together.

Without You by Hinder; Universal Records; 2008.

A Memo to Fans

2011-08-25T02:29:00.003+08:00

Hello everyone.

As you now may have realized, this blog's URL has been changed to its new domain. Although this change has been anticipated since the very beginning of this blog, the plan has been entirely neglected at all time mainly due to two things: the author was broke and the author was lazy.

But now finally it has changed.

Thanks to two people who reminded and helped me out with the change. Miss Devreny 'Dev' Disin came out with the idea that later reminded me about the long lost plan while Mr Shibli 'Shibble' Nuqman helped me out with the domain and the entire blog setting. Thanks a lot you two.

I hope that this blog will remain as educating, entertaining and amusing as ever, and I thank you all for the supports I have received so far. If not because of you loving fans (and curious foes), this blog will never receive much attentions like it did. Keep supporting and keep reading, alright? And keep up with the constructive criticisms and suggestions. Lets make this page better and better each day, me and you.

Love you all! XOXO!

Junk Money

2011-08-24T14:28:00.000+08:00

I have a lot to spend my money on but the thing is that I don't have that much money.

Quite a problem there.

Looking around myself, it has really been a while since I shopped for gadgets. Some of them really need to be replaced for their prime time has long gone.

I still use my old HTC Touch 3G that I bought using the cash I was able to stash up after a breakup years ago -- one of the time I felt so filthy rich -- until today. The phone has experienced some nominal damages although I really took care of it at all time. The wear and tear effects start to show, and perhaps the phone is only able to serve for no more than a year from now, perhaps 6 months max.

My camera is still the same old Panasonic Lumix FZ-18 that I bought sometime in 2008, I think, or maybe earlier than that. The camera is still good as new, but following a hard knock from an accidental drop sometime at the end of last year, it started to give signs of incompetence during assignments. From the look of it the camera can still last for long, although I really hope I could replace it with a latest version of Lumix sometime soon.

What else?

I still use the PC I had since 2003 but has since been upgraded from time to time. It is now running on Windows 7 and is very stable although at times I have pushed it to almost its limitations for heavy AutoCAD renderings and computer games. I would like to have a good laptop sometime soon, much to its mobility, since to carry a CPU and a monitor and the accessories all around are defenitely not practical to, although still possible. With a laptop, maybe I can be more of a workaholic since I am able to work almost everywhere.

I used to own some Mp3 players but they are all dead except for one which only turns on when a direct electricity supply is connected to it. I can say that that piece of junk is depending entirely on life support now. Maybe it's time to let go of all these old gadgets already.

But then again I love my junks.

So many stories of my life they all carry together with me. The fact that these gadgets were (and some are still) my best friends during my loneliest and hardest times in life makes it more difficult for me to let them go. Although these entirely distasteful session of memories can usually be passed on when there is drinking involved, I just couldn't bear the facts that, all these junks, are actually the fucking love of my life. They are my native histories.

They know what happened.

I am also in the need for a new watch if possible. But then again I need to save up for my future; the wedding, life after campus, for sustainable and maintainable lifestyle, for this and that. I can't just go out and spend my hard-earned money just like one lets out an explosive diarrhea during one rainy midsummer morning. I have so much other things to save for.

Some says that, "well, why don't you spend now and save up when you get your first salary?"

Frankly, if I follow that example, when my first salary pops in my account, the first thing that will cross my mind is the, 'well, why not spend now and save up the second salary?'. And it goes on. Whoever practices (and advises me) this, you have been a good stock for the capitalist world -- the same reason why you are forever poor and have so many debts to keep up with and so many spending to do right when you get cash in your hands.

I can just be selfish and (spoiled?) now and get myself all the shiny blings-blings and the fancy thangs of the new world and impress the people around me with all the good, brand-new things that will be out of fashion by the end of next week, and lose everything in the end.

Or maybe I can just save up now (although this sounds rather pathetic) and spend the cash later on when I am making more money. That way perhaps I can love my savings better, and I can have more time with all my old time junks that are definitely, frankly, irreplaceable.

Damn irreplaceable.

p/s: call me a cheapo, but we both know I'm richer than you are.

U Mad Bro?

2011-08-23T05:39:00.000+08:00

'Cause I Am the Mighty Jacksparrow

2011-08-04T21:45:00.001+08:00

It was around this time of the year when the nickname Mighty Jacksparrow first made its public appearance in the year 2003.

It has been some time since I promised many that I will one day unveil the real story behind the creation of the nickname that I have been using for a long eleven-year run; quite a time too long to make the name represents my being in the digital world.

It first started with the name Jack.

* * *

There was this girl.

She was hell of a girl, really, in the eyes of the 18 years old me. Back in the days when the internet was scarce and the cars were easily countable in the campus, my few friends and I used to spend the nights sitting by the drain located in front of our residential blocks, eyeing on young ladies making their way home from night classes. And so it happened that one day she walked across in front of us, and all chattering died in an instant, for what we just saw was entirely heartwarming. There a girl so pleasingly charming melted the hearts of us young men, and without a sound we all admired her from afar.

At the time, young and foolish as I was, I had troubles approaching women.

I was quite the opposite of what I am today; I was terribly shy and I often imagine that the day I converse with a girl will be the day Malaysia wins the World Cup. Some of these friends of mine, realizing that among all them I was the only one who paid real attention to the girl mentioned previously, placed a bet: if I could win the heart of that lady, then I shall be the shepherd of the group.

Poorly equipped and low in confidence, I gave it a try. Long story short, I ran back with my tail in between my legs and to add more insult to the injury, those friends of mine greeted me with none other than explosive laughter. But in the end they were all supportive; so supportive that they gave me the nickname 'Jack', as to remind us the day that I was rejected by the lady we all admired from afar.

"Well at least you have the balls for it, however small," they joked, followed by laughter all night long.

* * *

Everyone knows that Jack Sparrow is the star in Disney's Pirate of the Caribbean. Contrary to the common perception, I did not get the name from him. In fact, I only knew about Captain Jack Sparrow in 2005 when I first watched the movie. Pretty darn late for it, actually.

I used to spend my time watching one of the avian variety commonly known as the sparrow.

These sparrows, they used to give our cafe some heavy visits during lunch hour that within minutes after a table was emptied, they came and swarmed the entire table's perimeter and filled their guts with all the leftover food. For some certain reasons, I used to admire these birds greatly (yes, of all the other birds) because as human are entirely dumbfounded by other magnificent-looking birds, the sparrow seems not to receive quite the attention. I used to buy bread and pinched them into small pieces before throwing at those hungry sparrows, and within days the sparrows recognized me as the harmless, loyal provider.

Tim, one of the higher member of the Mutton Curry Gang, addressed me as 'captain' because at the time, I was the only one within the gang with a car. And by captain he meant an aviation pilot, not a marine captain, thanks to my then and still obsession with aviation technology. When others heard him calling me captain, they thought he referred me as Captain Jack Sparrow.

With all these coincidences collided, the name Sparrow became attached to me.

* * *

Year 2005.

A week after Raya, I was down with a very strange fever. This fever got me shivering at all time day and night, even when I was already under a thick blanket with the ceiling fan off. It was during our final examination period, and my friends had to drag me all the way to the examination hall to go for my papers.

Three doctors misdiagnosed me in the duration of eight days, all of them were in agreement that all I had was a common tropical fever. Little that they knew that I was at the time struggling with dengue fever that my friends and I only knew when we hit the door of the last doctor which was the Pantai Puteri Medical Center, Ipoh. We arrived at 8.15pm that night before my last paper, and I was admitted instantly because my conditions were pretty bad. There were only 30,000 platelets left in my blood out of the normally 150,000 to 450,000 platelets in a microliter of blood. Had it drop to lower than that, I would have been facing the grim reality that my chances of survival will be equal to a common housefly to survive through a heavy mist of Ridsect.

It took me five days to be able to recover fully. Pints of water were continuously supplied into my blood stream and I was bedridden all time. Loneliness bit me slowly during that time since I was warded in a single room with no other occupants. No one came to visit because I told my friends not to make it into a commotion, except for some very close friends of mine. It was not until the last night before I was discharged when a nurse knocked on my door and asked if she could make me a company.

She was a young Indian nurse that just went through some very sad moments in life. We spent the night talking and sharing stories until early morning when she excused herself to check on other patients. Before she left, I told her to be strong, and her reply was, "and you must be mighty".

And I became mighty.

* * *

The real reason why I did not open up about how the nickname Mighty Jacksparrow was created was merely because I could not face the public's view about the rejection I received from the girl I admired so much back then.

But as I came to term with it, I realized that if it was not because of that rejection, I may still be the shy, frightened boy who will never have what it takes to greet a girl with a simple, warm hello. Maybe I wouldn't be able to make some people to have had me at hello, and still. Maybe I will never grow up appreciating women nor will I perfect the art of communication with them. Had it not because of the rejection, I may still be the lame, nerdy me that every Tom, Dick and Harry could have made themselves into easily.

Mighty Jacksparrow reminds me of all the hardships I went through in life and the lessons I learnt from them, and most importantly, what the name made me into. Today I am an entirely a different person who has not even a difficulty to greet any man and woman whether in the digital or the real world. Today I am proud of what I am, and I can never feel any better than this. No regrets, just pride and dignity. I'm proud I did that mistake, and I'm proud I didn't hesitate.

Otherwise, if i didn't do it, who would've written you all the wonderful stories like I did?

p/s: happy 8th birthday, Mighty Jacksparrow.

Photography: Avian Varieties

2011-08-01T00:10:00.001+08:00

It really has been a while since I last did my photography.

Some of the lessons I learnt and the skills I once acquired have been lost, if not forgotten and rusting. A hobby I took since I was small, photography actually taught me a lot of things in life -- some of them cannot be learnt off books nor be heard about.

I'm slowly coming back to this old forgotten hobby just to make sure I keep my sanity at bay whenever life hits hard at times.

These pictures were taken at the KL Bird Park. I personally don't really like some of them for they lack of a lot of things -- color tone, lighting, composition, pose etc. -- but I share them here nevertheless.

Please click to enlarge. Enjoy.

* * *

The Freshmen of May Twenty-Eleven

2011-07-21T15:57:00.000+08:00

As usual, being all different I am, I love to do different things in the classes I teach. Today, we all had some photography sessions.

Here, I present the young people from which their futures lie in my hands. These are the people who are the reasons why I wake up every damn morning to go to teach and be happy every counted seconds.

Well, thank you, kids.

* * *

p/s: I was lazy on the editing LOL

You Angry Bird

2011-07-20T14:46:00.002+08:00

I'm planning for a photography session tomorrow with the kids in Fundamental Physics 1.

There are around 150 of them, so just for the fun of it I'm gonna snap some memorable pictures tomorrow and blog about it later. So I told them to dress up for tomorrow via my Facebook.

And then this happened; a reply from one of the students:

I can't wait.

You Can't Be Serious!

2011-07-19T10:27:00.005+08:00

A Hell's Angel biker was riding on the road one night when he accidentally knocked on something in his path. When he stopped and took a look at it, it was a genie's lamp. He rubbed it a few times and out came a genie.

"So tell me, mate," the genie said in a thick Aussie accent, "what is thy wish?".

The biker thought for a while and said, "well I've always wanted to ride along the coastal line of Seattle and then proceed to a bridge system that connects the mainland with Hawaii".

"Well you can't be serious, mate!" the genie replied in disbelief. "Do you know how many engineering calculations need to be done, the material costs, the project duration and massive work forces that need to be prepared? And the distance! It's almost impossible! Give me a second wish eh."

"Well alright," said the biker, a bit ashamed. "Well I've always wanted to know what a woman really wants."

The genie, while remained floated in the air, gave a long thought while rubbing his chin and raising his eyebrows for a couple of times. After a while he finally said something:

"So do you prefer a single lane, or a double lane bridge?"

* * *

"The great question that has never been answered, and which I have not yet been able to answer, despite my thirty years of research into the feminine soul, is 'What does a woman want?'"

From Sigmund Freud: Life and Work by Ernest Jones, 1953.

How Some People Got Hired

2011-07-17T00:03:00.002+08:00

*click to enlarge*

Listerine Revenge

2011-07-06T11:53:00.000+08:00

*click to enlarge*

Apa Benda Semua Ni?

2011-07-06T10:39:00.000+08:00

Macam-macam benda jadi sekarang.

Kadang-kadang bila aku duduk-duduk petang-petang sambil menghirup secawan kopi panas dan menyedut asap gulungan tembakau dan menghembusnya ke udara atas kepala, terlihatkanlah kepada aku yang asap itu tadi berpecah kepada beberapa bahagian yang kemudiannya hilang bersama angin yang bertiup. Seperti mana orang-orang masa ini berpecah kepada beberapa bahagian yang pada akhirnya semua tau akan ada yang naik ke atas dan akan ada yang jatuh ke bawah, tiada di tengah-tengah.

Kita terlalu mahukan sesuatu yang ada kalanya terjangkau di luar minda masing-masing. Kita terlalu banyak protes.

Rambut

Ambil contoh seorang perempuan ini yang mendaftar sebagai rekrut bomba baru-baru ini yang katanya (katanya) rambutnya dipotong sehingga botak. Masuk suratkhabar. Muka depan. Bapaknya bukan main lagi mengamuk. Lagaknya macam rambut anaknya itu tidak akan tumbuh lagi. Sampai menteri kena pohon ampun maaf, yang pada akhirnya ditolak mentah-mentah kerana bukan dibuat secara bersemuka. Bila dilihat semula kepala budak perempuan itu, tidak juga botak. Bukannya kepala itu dicukur pun, cuma dipotong hingga 6 mm. Ambil pembaris, tengok panjang mana itu 6 mm.

Katanya masa taklimat ada diberitahu yang rambut rekrut baru akan dipotong sehingga klip no. 2. Klip no. 2 memberikan potongan sehingga 5 mm. Rambut manusia tumbuh pada rata-ratanya 1.25 cm satu bulan, atau 12.5 mm sebulan. Jadi apa masalahnya? Bapaknya bukan main lagi terus bawa keluar dari pusat rekrut. Terus buat press statement. Sekarang, kerjanya tak dapat, orang kiri-kanan mengata. Menteri pun sudah naik angin, pertahankan tindakan memotong rambut tersebut.

Puas hati?

BERSIH 2.0

Kita punya pilihanraya katanya sistemnya tak telus. Penipu besar. Tak serupa bikin. Itu semua aku tak mahu sentuh. Nanti karang macam-macam bijak pandai masuk blog ini semata-mata nak menegakkan pandangan masing-masing.

Cuba lihat belakang rumah kita. Cuba lihat dalam rumah kita. Cuba lihat kenderaan kita. Cuba lihat sekeliling kita. Ada bersih? Longkang depan rumah tak ada sampah, tak ada tersumbat? Tong sampah kita bersih atau penuh dengan ulat? Kain baju kita dah dibasuh atau masih berhimpun bermesyuarat di sisi dinding? Hubungan kita dengan orang lain, bersihkah agaknya? Kita ini sendiri bersihkah orangnya?

Bersihkah kini ini sebenarnya?

Tandas awam kita, koridor kita, jalan kita, yang tukang bersihkan semuanya jarang sekali orang kita sendiri. Yang dodoikan anak kita tidur, yang memasak dan bersihkan rumah tatkala kita laki bini sibuk bekerja cari duit, rata-ratanya kita panggil bibik. Anak-anak pun lebih rapat dengan bibik daripada kita sendiri. Yang tukang buat rumah, yang tukang buat kerja-kerja kotor semuanya orang-orang luar. Iyalah, kita kan bangsa terhormat. Mana boleh sentuh bab kotor-kotor ni.

Kan bagus kalau tiap-tiap bulan 500,000 orang berkumpul bersihkan bandar dan sistem pengairan negara ini? Kerjanya volunteer juga. Baru nampak apa benda yang dibersihkan. Ada juga baiknya. Keluar juga peluh dari badan yang sepanjang masa duduk dalam bilik air-conditioned sambil perut memproses makanan-makanan berminyak dan mulut mengunyah tanpa henti. Hilang juga lemak-lemak yang terkumpul di badan.

Ini benda yang 4, 5 tahun sekali jadi disibukkan. Tayar-tayar lama, sampah sarap belakang rumah yang dah 4, 5 tahun ada dekat situ tak dipedulikan. Besok bila anak-anak padam kena denggi, siapa yang nak disalahkan?

Salahkan kerajaan.

Kelab Isteri Taat

Ini satu lagi benda.

Kononnya bini perlu jadi sex angel di rumah. Mungkin ada yang masih boleh jadi sex angel, tapi kepada yang jenis perutnya pun sudah sampai 40, 50 inci lilitannya, sex angel apa benda.

Kebanyakan lelaki dalam kepalanya bukan sekadar maukan seks saja. Ada banyak benda lain lagi yang nak difikirkan. Barang-barang dalam peti ais dah mula kosong, esok kena pergi pasar malam atau supermarket. Hutang kereta hujung bulan dah nak kena bayar. Atap rumah bocor, nanti hujung minggu kena panggil orang baiki. Di hall depan tu kalau letak karpet baru lawa juga kan? Anak-anak sudah mula besar, permintaan pun makin banyak. Mana nak cari duit? Kena kerja lebih sedikit-lah nampaknya. Mulut diam, kepala jalan, fikir fikir fikir.

Yang bininya, bila nampak lakinya diam saja, mulalah. Itu ini itu ini. Sudahlah kepala lakinya pusing, dia bikin satu rumah pusing. Bila laki sudah meradang, kalau tak di-PANG-nya bini, dia ambil kunci kereta cabut keluar sampai ke pagi. Bila jadi macam ni, yang disalahkan siapa? Tentulah si laki-laki. Bininya macam biasa. Itu protes ini protes. Ini salah itu tak betul. Bila disuruh buat sendiri, pandai pula diam. Tak sampai lima minit, melawan lagi. Gaduh. Cerai-berai. Anak-anak tengok saja. Besok dah besar, anak-anak pun ikut buat benda sama.

Taat.

Pada aku cukuplah sekadar isteri itu taat pada laki. Dengar kata-kata lakinya. Ada sebab di sebalik pemikiran lelaki yang pada perempuan mungkin tidak adil pada masa sekarang tapi untuk jangkamasa panjang sangat membantu. Kalau bininya taat, lakinya nak balik rumah lepas kerja pun tak ada nak pening-pening kepala. Lakinya balik saja, terus duduk rumah tak ada keluar-keluar lagi sebab rumahnya sendiri sudah aman.

Ini tidak. Balik rumah penat-penat dari ofis, rumahnya bersepah-sepah. Anak-anak entah ke mana pergi. Dapur kosong, nasinya tak ada. Bininya duduk pakai kain batik atas sofa tengok TV. Bila ditegur, melawan itu ini.

Kalau aku pun, aku patah balik ke kereta, start enjin, cabut pergi ofis balik.

p/s: kadang-kadang kita semua lupa siapa diri kita sendiri.

Solitude

2011-06-28T01:16:00.000+08:00

Sometimes all I ask for is solitude.

Away from everything. Everything I've got. Everything I've ever wanted. Withdraw myself from the world and into the state of nothingthness. Where everything doesn't matter. Where there is no sound and light coming after. No communication. No argument. No debate. No convincing. No ass-licking just to make some people happy. No toleration. Feeling neither good or bad. No love and no hate. Pure ignorance. Pure negligence. Empty. Still. No mask to hide true feelings. No smiling. No frowning. Just utter blankness. And that's all I ever ask for. Because I just want to feel better.

Is that so much to ask for?

Sugar

2011-06-13T10:56:00.000+08:00

I sit
In my desolate room
No lights no music
Just sit here
(whisper: "I've killed everyone")
I'm away forever

But I'm feeling better.

People Come, People Go

2011-05-27T01:49:00.000+08:00

Looking back at times, sometime I wonder how did I get here in the first place.

Twenty-six years of being alive so far, from which the clock is ticking as we speak to make it another complete year, I have seen so much, been into so much, hoped for so much, earned so much and lost so much. The mould that shapes me constantly change from all kinds of feedbacks I received from all my doings, changing me as a result into someone different each coming day. What I was yesterday, however identical, may not be exactly similar person as I am today.

My constantly-changing self has so far confirmed to be my only driving force that continues to push me forward to achieve what I have yet to. Sometimes my hopes were beyond the stars, sometimes they were right beneath my shoes. Despite my only self being the dominant being that strives to obtain things I have always wanted, things may still be the same now like ten years back if not for some very significant people I have got myself surrounded all these times.

Family members, friends, fans and foes; the people that have kicked me forward whenever I stopped and the people who have caught me whenever I was passing so fast. These people meant a lot, however negative they were to me, and I owe them a lot of credits for creating what today I believe to be my own adult, mature person.

If not because of the supports I received from my family members, I would have broke down so badly back then that at this present time I could have been a stray dog living a hell of a life by the street waiting to be hit by a passing car in the middle of the night.

If not because of the advices and care I received from my close friends, I would have not be so clearly focused, educated and critical as I am now. If not for them, I would have ended up a failing loser somewhere along the way when I was in my undergraduate studies back then. The supports I continue to receive from them even when this entry is written, and how could I not be more appreciative.

If not because of my fans who some do visit this site almost every day just to give a visit (or leave some traces in the Feedjit tracker) and read whatever things I wrote here, this blog could have died long ago, perhaps only in weeks after this writing effort of mine was started. I rejoice the warm feelings I get each time I see people coming to this site just to see what have been scripted and progressed to share them with the people they care about.

And now, the most important thing.

If not because of my enemies, I wouldn't have been projected so far above my anticipated barrier as I am comfortably sitting at today. If not because the hatred, the never-ending crushing critics and most disappointingly untrue rumors going around about myself being thrown irresponsibly all these times, I wouldn't have been quite a fighter. If not because of some friends turning foes in the end, I won't be able to identify my true buddies as I fought my way through. And as my father always told me, "you cannot make some friends without making some enemies (note: although this may sound similar to what the movie made for Facebook. com, my father has been telling me this since I was a child)", I began to see the truth when I saw unknown strangers, known acquaintances, and even lovers, became one of the strongest enemies I could have ever had in life. As much as I was utterly disappointed, I was satisfyingly grateful.

Therefore, dear readers, I hope that you do take a look back at times and relate what you are today to the people around you, however their existence status may be at the current time, do contemplate on the effects these people and time have affected you so far. And when you begin to see their contributions, however distinct, admit them and say your gratitudes even when you just do it to yourself, completely unexpressed.

And as you go through the same road today to destinations unknown, bear in mind that in time, there will be more of new people coming, and there will be some people leaving.

And maybe as we speak, it is already going on.

Status Air Paip Mentah Malaysia: Sejauh Mana Halalnya?

2011-05-23T18:47:00.000+08:00

Logo Rebutan Ramai

Kejap tadi aku ada lah terbaca satu artikel di Facebook.

Katanya makan ayam KFC itu hukumnya haram atas sebab pemprosesan yang dikatakan meragukan dan tidak menepati garis panduan yang ditetapkan oleh agama Islam. Sebelum ini kita sudah dikejutkan dengan berita yang setengah makanan dan minuman di kopitiam, Secret Recipe, TGI Fridays dan pelbagai lagi jenama kedai makanan segera dan eksklusif yang senang dijumpai di mana-mana sekitar negara dilabel sebagai haram dimakan.

Selepas satu, satu.

Sekiranya KFC sudah dilabel sebagai tidak memproses ayam sepertimana yang dikehendaki hukum syara', maka adalah tidak mustahil pihak McDonald, Burger King dan jenama-jenama makanan segera lain mula menggigit jari takut-takut mereka juga dilabelkan sebagai haram. Kedai-kedai lain yang bersangkut-paut dengan ayam, lembu dan pelbagai hidangan berkisarkan ternakan domestik juga mula berpeluh mendengar kejadian yang seumpama menimpa KFC tadi.

Bukan seringgit dua ringgit punya rugi kalau dilabel haram di negara ini. Hendak pula yang kaki sapu makanan-makanan segera ini hampir kebanyakannya pengguna beragama Islam.

Maka adakah dengan makan di kedai-kedai makanan berunsurkan hanya sayur-sayuran sudah memadai? Tidak juga. Sudah ada cerita kedai makan vegetarian menyediakan makanan-makanan yang dihidangkan dengan tambahan perisa berunsurkan babi. Sudah satu lagi masalah di situ.

Dalam sedikit masa lagi, tidak mustahil satu demi satu kedai-kedai makanan yang selama ini menjadi tempat mencekik untuk warga Islam mula diklasifikasikan sebagai haram. Persoalannya, adakah dengan melabelkan kedai-kedai ini sebagai haram dapat menjanjikan satu penyelesaian?

Orang kita selalunya penuh dengan alasan.

Jadi di sini saya selaku penulis ingin mengetengahkan soalan yang berikut: selama mana kedai-kedai makan ini telah beroperasi, tak pernah adakah regulasi yang mewajibkan adanya wakil-wakil jabatan agama untuk mengawasi jalan pemprosesan makanan di premis-premis tersebut? Mungkin dengan meletakkan seorang wakil jabatan agama di Warung Tomyam Mak Munah di hujung simpang merupakan satu tindakan yang agak tidak relevan dan amat ganjil sekali, tapi mungkin dengan meletakkan wakil-wakil jabatan agama di tempat-tempat penyembelihan awam dan swasta mungkin sekali dapat membantu mengawal pengeluaran ayam, lembu, kerbau, itik dan apa-apa lagi haiwan yang halal dimakan tapi akhirnya jadi haram kerana matinya bukan disembelih.

Bukan susah sangat kerjanya. Duduk saja. Matanya saja yang jalan. Tengok-tengokkan kalau sembelihannya betul, matinya betul, prosesnya pun betul. Meskipun terkenal dengan identiti bangsa pemalas, tapi takkanlah kerja sebegitu pun tak boleh dilakukan?

Jangan beritahu yang kononnya tak ada orang, tak ada tenaga kerja.

Kita masih mengeluarkan pelajar-pelajar dari sekolah-sekolah pondok, tahfiz dan bermacam lagi sekolah berunsurkan keagamaan Islam di seluruh tanah air. Apa salahnya tawaran kerja separuh mahir diberikan kepada pelajar-pelajar ini bila mereka besar kelak, ataupun kepada bekas pelajar yang sudah tentunya telah besar panjang sekarang? Daripada mereka membesar tak tentu pasal memberi ceramah dan propaganda politik, masuk tabligh yang latar belakang gurunya pun lain macam, belajar membuat bom jangka mahupun meletupkan premis-premis maksiat atas nama Islam, bukankah lebih baik sekiranya platform kawalan makanan halal ini diberikan kepada mereka? Sekurang-kurangnya pahala sudah tentu dapat, makanan umat Islam pun lebih terjaga. Gaji pun tetap, tak perlu ke hulu ke hilir minta bayaran ceramah mahupun derma.

Tenaga kerja pun tidak semestinya perlu menjadi seorang yang berkelulusan dari segi akademik agama. Cukuplah sekadar yang agamanya Islam dan boleh diharap menjaga syariat Islam apabila diamanahkan. Ini bukan kerja main-main. Kalau jenis yang mengular, MC sepanjang masa atau jenis yang tak boleh lekang dari Facebook atau/dan Twitter pada waktu kerja, itu boleh dipotong saja namanya dari senarai temuduga.

Apa salahnya buka satu institut pengajian untuk mendalami pengawalan barangan halal di Malaysia supaya anak-anak muda kita boleh masuk dan belajar cara-cara pengawalan dan pengawasan pengeluaran barangan halal di negara ini? Keluarnya nanti pun bukan kosong -- ada sijil, ada kelulusan akademik, berstatus pekerja separuh mahir, mahir dan professional. Okay apa.

Dengan ini, jalan penyelesaian yang lebih bermakna dapat diperoleh dan kedua-dua pihak dapat keuntungan yang dihajatkan. Bukankah ini lebih baik dari segi agama, sosial dan ekonomi? Malahan ini juga dapat menepis spekulasi-spekulasi liar yang mengatakan kedai si polan dan si polan itu tidak halal, sedangkan merekalah pengeluar makanan paling halal di kawasan tersebut.

Apa pendapat pembaca?

p/s: Jangan satu hari nanti sampai air paip mentah pun ada yang mengadu tidak halal. So far masih halal-lah tapi.

Those Who Do, Those Who Don't

2011-05-20T00:43:00.000+08:00

Hello.

[Before we begin, it is vital to note that this post repetitively uses the word 'fuck' and its derivations; those who might find this offensive, please stay away.]

It has really been a while since I last updated. A lot of things to be posted but the time I had wasn't just enough to permit such privilege. Nevertheless I tried to cheat the timekeeper and managed to type something here just so that the blog remains active despite my occasional disappearance.

This morning I tweeted something that somebody told me in my dream the night previously, and it goes like this:

"In life there are two types of people; those who fuck, and those who get fucked. Which one is you?"

Although the dream I had was still a bit too shady for me to fully remember, but I could recall that the person who told me this was, surprisingly, none other than my own self. Apart from me being too egoistical at times, dreaming about myself telling me myself things gave the impression that it was about time to give my ego a bit of slaps to tone down a little. All I could pull to explain this very strange situation is that I was talking to my own subconscious mind - represented in the form of myself - the main culprit behind all the writings herein lie in time as far as it goes all the way back since I first posted my first blog entry.

As to go back to the saying above, it could never be more thoughtful. Those who fuck appear to be the most dominant and often seen to practice their power on the rest of the party, also known as those who get fucked. It is not hard to see this in real life situation, where daily we easily see people fucking other people up for some certain reasons that are subject-dependent. In some cases people fuck other people up for good reasons, but most of the time for the bad ones.

In spite of any reason any of you choose to reason why you fuck other people up (or get fucked, similarly), it is wise to note that the pattern always shows that the practice moves in a circle. For instance, if you get fucked by someone today, you will most probably find somebody else to fuck with, and that person, similarly, will lose it on someone else. To date I am not sure whether the ends of the circle have kindly meet, unless it is proven that there is actually someone who cannot get fucked, hence he (or she, damn you feminine movement) is the biggest fucker among everybody else.

Sometimes, you don't need to be a villain in order to fuck other people up; you can actually strike against your enemy by fucking them up, provided that they fucked you up in the first place. So in this case, you could be both - the person who fucks, and the person who gets fucked. No matter where you choose to be, you'd still find yourself stranded somewhere in the middle of the cycle, where either way you have to fuck, or get fucked, whichever possible.

Of course there is a pro-and-con in being one of the biggest fuckers, and as well as being the biggest fucked-up. That, I leave to you to think about.

So here's the question again:

Which one is you?

I Need A Damn Job

2011-05-05T23:44:00.000+08:00

Alright.

For some certain reasons I know that some of you readers:

1. Are engineers,
2. Work in engineering companies,
3. Have family members/colleagues/lovers/friends/scandals/missus/pimps etc. who are engineers.

If it is not too much to ask, I would like to inquire some assistance in my job application. Should you have any information regarding any appropriate engineering job vacancies out there that include:

1. Engineering bidding & estimation (Mechanical & Electrical, Piping & Instruments)
2. Process piping fabrication (GRE/GRP, Duplex, SS, CS)
3. Offshore facilities (Drilling, production, mud control, monitoring
4. Process & production (oleochemicals, petroleum, wastewater)
5. Heavy engineering fabrication (pressure vessels, jackets, topsides, etc)
6. Energy Generation & Supply (turbines, power plants, alternative energy, hydroelectric)
7. Risk Assessment (inspection, prevention, reviews)

...and anything related to general Mechanical Engineering with specific fields of Petroleum and Renewable & Alternative Energy, please leave some info in the comment section. I thank you so much for your helps.

p/s: this one is real. Don't come out with funny job ideas like being a pirate, a pimp et cetera. thanks.

The Reverse of Love

2011-05-05T06:30:00.000+08:00

The reverse of love is not hate.

There comes a time in some couples' lives where the departure of one party leads to the destruction of another. This departure, often known as a breakup (divorce in some cases), may be voluntary but most of the time were done not in agreement of both party. And due to this departure, each of the lovers, now known to each other as each other's ex-lover, will usually experience mixed feelings. One of these mixed feelings is hatred.

Hatred is a deep and emotional extreme dislike, directed against a certain object or class of object [Wikipedia]. In this case, the object is the ex-lover, and the class of object has to be something associated to the ex-lover. At some point, the class of object could jump to the most extreme, and that is how some women hate men and some men hate women - both in the class of gender. It is not impossible for a heartbroken female to swear not to fall in love with men again, not even one of them, only after an experience or two with different men. And of course, the reverse too.

Aristotle saw hate as the desire to annihilate an object and is incurable by time. This intense feeling of hatred has the ability to grow and get more intense over a period of time, given that the feeling is supplied with necessary amplifications, and due to the fact that it is incurable by time, there shall be no end to it. One can hate one whole life.

That's their choice.

But there's a catch to hatred - it consumes energy and inner spiritual solace. No hating men are peaceful inside, and no men who is not peaceful inside, is peaceful outside. The cost of hatred, though varies, is mostly high. This includes the deterioration of self sanity and emotion, and even the physical health. At the end of the day, it can be concluded as a self destruction. The amount of hatred generated may also vary depending on the object the feeling is directed against, but nothing could be powerful like hatred directed against love.

People think that the reverse of love is hate.

They think that if yesterday they loved their lovers and today when their lovers fucked up (or they themselves fucked up) the lovers decide to leave. and ergo they think that today instead of loving their lovers, they will hate them (now ex-lovers). They think that by hating, they could match the amount of love that was once showered upon their exes. They see it as a way of taking a revenge. They think it worths it.

But does it?

By loving a person, one will make a room in their head to store memories about this beloved person to commemorate the importance of this person in one's life. We always remember about our lovers, they always stay in our heads. But should one day they leave, do they still deserve to stay in our heads? No. So how do we remove these allocated memories of them away? By hating? Well is it by hating?

No.

The reverse of love is not hate. It is indifference. To have no feelings at all towards the object one once loved. By hating an ex, it will only make the memories the ex carved in your head during when both of you were in a relationship to be imprinted even more clearer. This shows that everything that they do still matter to you. THEY still matter to you. Because you allow yourself to keep them in your head. If they don't matter to you, then you shall have no feelings for them anymore. Not even hate.

Nothing at all.

Slowly peace will come to you and all memories will be wiped away in time. You choose not to remember nor having any feeling towards the exes anymore, and this means you are not stranded from any affecting memories, however sweet, however bitter, however memorable. And you will grow into a better person.

When that happens, you are as free as Andy Dufresne:

"...who crawled through a river of shit, and came out clean on the other side."

So don't hate your exes, no matter how fucked up the things they did to you. And don't love them either. Just feel nothing. Nothing at all.

p/s: my first ex is getting married this Sunday. People ask me what do I feel about it. Well, nothing.

Reaching Out

2011-04-22T11:44:00.001+08:00

Lately I've been hard to reach
I've been too long on my own
Everybody has a private world
Where they can be alone

Are you calling me?
Are you trying to get through?
Are you reaching up for me?
Cause I'm reaching out for you.

"Reaching Out" taken from the album Return of The Champion by Queen + Paul Rodgers, Hollywood Records 2005.

Kerusi Terbang

2011-04-19T13:00:00.000+08:00

Sakit kepala.

Sejak dua tiga minggu ni banyak benda yang berjaya beri tamparan bapuk sedas dua atas kiri kanan pipi saya. Sakit, tak ada lah sakit mana. Satu, sebab tamparan-tamparan tu masih dalam kelas tamparan bapuk, dan kedua, tamparan-tamparan tersebut adalah lebih kepada tamparan yang mengejutkan (wake up slap?) saya dari serba sedikit lena yang aku alami sekian lama di dalam dunia kecil milik saya sendiri.

The bubble I live in.

Saya ingat saya boleh tahan hidup dalam dunia akademik. Memang boleh sebenarnya, asalkan saya hanya perlu belajar dan tak perlu mengajar. Mengajar dan belajar adalah dua benda berbeza. Bezanya antara dua benda ini adalah sejauh mana kurang ajarnya seseorang itu sebelum diklasifikasikan kepada salah satu daripada yang tersebut. Selalunya, orang yang kurang ajar terletak di bawah orang yang perlu belajar, tetapi orang yang mengajar belum tentu lagi tidak kurang ajar.

Sebagai contohnya, minggu lepas ketika saya mengajar di depan berlatarkan papan putih berkilat yang dicemari contengan-contengan berupa lakaran-lakaran dan persamaan-persamaan matematik, Tuhan sudah bagi saya nampak satu kes yang saya kira kurang ajar. Saya sedang bercakap di depan, dan nun di belakang kelas ada pula satu kumpulan budak-budak yang leka berborak. Saya tegur satu, dua kali, mereka diam dalam 5 saat sebelum mula berborak semula.

Itu namanya kurang ajar.

Tapi saya cool. Saya relax saja. Mula-mula saya rasa saya boleh tahan. Tapi disebabkan baran saya sudah tak dapat ditahan lagi, disebabkan radang saya sudah mula melimpah, saya pun meletup. Bila ada benda meletup, benda-benda lain di sekelilingnya akan menerima bala malapetaka bahana letupan tadi. Dan selalunya selepas satu-satu benda itu meletup, keadaan selepas itu akan menjadi sunyi sepi dan kaku. Dan seperti itu jugalah yang berlaku kepada keadaan kelas tempat saya mengajar.

Kalau orang kurang ajar dengan kita, kita dibenarkan untuk melawan dengan perbuatan kurang ajar pada intensiti yang sama atau lebih. Tapi disebabkan saya hidup dalam gaya hidup yang bersederhana, saya pun bersederhanalah dalam membalas balik. Orang kata bersedekah biar berpada-pada. Kalau ikut hati, ada yang kena lempar tembus dinding kaca tebal dari kelas di tingkat satu tu. Takpun ada kerusi yang terbang membabi-buta.

Panas beb.

Bercakap tentang soal panas, saya juga mula merasa panas hati terhadap beberapa kawan-kawan sekerja yang pada hemat saya tak boleh diharap. Ada satu masa, ketua penyelidik tempat saya bekerja meminta tolong untuk membeli mesin pemotong mata piring bulat. Disebabkan saya pada ketika itu sibuk dengan design work dan bermacam lagi benda gila yang putus-putus tiba, ketua penyelidik meminta bantuan salah seorang rakan kerja untuk tugas tersebut. Percaya atau tidak, beliau mengambil masa satu tahun untuk membuat pembelian, sedangkan status pembelian tersebut adalah urgent. Disebabkan saya sudah tidak tahan lagi melihat tayangan kemalasan beliau di depan mata selama setahun tersebut, saya pun start enjin kereta dan pergi ke kedai hardware di pekan sebelah.

Tak sampai sejam, saya balik dengan mesin tersebut ke makmal. Tak sampai setengah jam, mesin tersebut dah mula dipakai. Saya tengok muka rakan saya dan saya buat riak muka yang seakan menyindir. FAIL, kata saya. Adakah saya berlagak? Mungkin. Tapi saya berlagak bersebab. Cuba bayangkan apa perasaan kalau bini/laki anda ambil masa setahun untuk beli ikan kembung dalam 4 ekor buat goreng kunyit makan tengahari dari kedai runcit hujung simpang yang tak sampai lima minit pun berjalan kaki jauhnya?

Minggu lepas orang yang sama buat masalah lagi. Beliau disuruh beli troli. Mungkin sebab sudah kena sembur atas bawah kiri kanan depan belakang dengan kepala penyelidik, beliau cepat saja buat pembelian. Hairannya, bila troli tersebut nak tiba di perkarangan makmal, beliau talipon saya suruh datang.

"Can you come to the lab when the trolley arrives?" katanya.

"What for?" balas saya. Dia tak jawab.

Beli troli pun nak kena ada orang teman? Saya heran. Bukan sekali dua dia buat macam tu. Mana saya tak naik angin. Lainlah kalau ada boiler unit atau nuclear reactor nak masuk lab. Itu berbaloi jugalah pergi tengok. Ini troli. Troli. Paham tak troli? Saya ketuk kepala dia dengan troli tu baru dia tau.

Sudahlah buat drawing pun saya. Beli thermocouple yang dia sepatutnya buat pun saya kena cover. Design calculation pun saya. Experiment planning pun saya. Site survey pun saya buat. Kemas lab pun saya. Housekeeping pun saya. Update pun saya. Apa saya ni duduk senang lenang ke di ofis, tak buat apa-apa?

Ini satu lagi, hari Rabu pagi. Esok pagi lah kiranya. Dia ajak saya meeting sebab dia nak beli tong gas untuk kegunaan makmal. Saya pun hangin lah satu badan. Sudahlah itu kerja dia, dia nak seret saya sekali. Sudahlah hantar emel tengah malam buta. Mana saya boleh tahan. Mula-mula nak juga saya sembur dia dalam senaskah dua cacian, tapi on a second thought saya kata okay, saya datang. Dalam kepala saya ada benda lain berlegar dalam fikiran.

Tengoklah, mesti ada kerusi yang terbang esok.

Sleep: A God Damn Analytical Approach

2011-04-18T00:38:00.000+08:00

Assumptions

1. Average sleeping time = 8 hours
2. Lifespan = 70 years
3. 1 year = 365 days

Consider that one lives for 70 years;

70 years = 25,550 days

And consider that one sleeps 8 hours a day by average;

Time spent sleeping = 25,500 days x 8 hours = 204,400 hours

Converting into days;

204,400 hours / 24 hours per day = 8516.67 days

Converting into years;

8516.67 days/365 days per year = 23.3 years.

Therefore the percentage of life time spent on sleeping = 23.3/70 x 100 = 33.2857 %, or more or less 1/3 of total lifespan.

...God damn.

The Legend of The Middlefinger's Bear

2011-04-17T23:32:00.000+08:00

The bear went amok again.

"We've gotta do something, damn it," said one of the young lads in the group. There were more than fifty people there in that gathering that took place at the little town hall. They were the citizens of Middlefinger, a secluded small town quite a distance away from the capital of the Faraway Kingdom. They were gathering to discuss over one of the biggest challenges the town was facing; an even greater event since The Big Bra Bombard that took place some time back that caused the market price of bra worldwide to plummet due to excessive production of bra in Middlefinger, which was at the time the world's biggest bra producer, where all children, adult and oldies there were world-certified bra makers. The Big Bra Bombard refers to the event where the large bra production facility owned by the town was bombarded with rocks launched from catapults operated by angry mobs of bra makers from other sides of the world in a desperate race to gain back their controls over the worldwide bra market price.

To which they successfully did.

"Yeah, we have to do something," another young lad broke the silence that had since becoming to annoy many there but none had the guts to say something up, and what a relief somebody else did. "We have to kill the bear."

Surrounded by thick forests, the town of Middlefinger was, due to that, surrounded with many dangerous and deadly beasts. Among these and happened to be the most troublesome is The Bear. With a weight of almost a ton, The Bear always hit the city at night and threw big rocks into rooftops directly above the bedrooms, or more specifically the area directly above the belly of the people who slept in the bedrooms. This so far had caused many people to suffer from very terrible pain right at the lower part of their abdomens, whereby some others, due to the incorrectness of the trajectory calculations done by The Bear, had died when the rocks landed on their heads instead of their belly. And this had made many people angry.

"Kill The Bear!" the first lad screamed in anger, followed by many other angry people, since this had been the easiest way to make ad-hoc decisions in Middlefinger - by majority showmanship. "Kill The Bear! Kill The Bear!" they all screamed.

But native to everyone's perspective, when it comes to making decisions, there has to be someone who has to be the spoiler by placing a benefit of doubt in that decision. And this person for this event happened to be the Town Mayor, who also happened to be the most pessimistic fellow ever alive in Middlefinger.

"Well, sure, that's very" the Mayor said. "But who, among all you cowards, me included, would do it? Who'd kill The Bear?"

And so the town hall went quiet again, as fairly expected. It stayed like that for almost an hour until suddenly the hall's door was opened with pitching creaks, to which everyone looked at instantly. And there stood a tough-looking young man with a physical appearance so excitingly gorgeous that many women flushed in seconds when they looked at him. He dressed like a big-time hunter, and at the back of him hung a long-range big-bore twin-barrel rifle, strengthening the initial idea that he was indeed a big-time hunter.

"That's the guy!" screamed the first lad with his finger pointed at the hunter. "He's our guy! He'll kill The Bear and save this town from future miseries!" And so everyone else did the same thing to support the idea, except the Mayor who at the time spit at one of the hall's pillar to show his disapproval, for whatever reason that was.

Although in the mind of the hunter he did not have any damn idea of what was going on, he quickly decided to take the job, firstly because he heard the word 'kill', which happened to be his favorite job and past-time activity, and secondly because he heard the word 'The Bear', to which he assumed must be his next victim of his favorite job and past-time activity. And therefore, the idea 'to kill The Bear' pleased him very much. He nodded in style, showing his agreement in helping the citizens, and therefore put an end to their miseries, whatever their miseries were.

And the people of Middlefinger cheered in excitement.

* * *

The morning was foggy.

The hunter walked slowly into the forest with his rifle in hands, all locked and loaded. He paid a lot of attention to his surroundings and look for any sign of The Bear. Other than a few groups of young town lads raping some damsels, to which he did not do anything about because it was not a part of his job scope, he did not find anything so far. The day seemed not to be so productive, and it was only his first day on the job. He was quite frustrated and wanted to return to the town when he suddenly heard some noise from behind a small hill in front of him.

He threw himself onto the green moss on the forest floor and crawled towards the sound. From beneath those little shrubs he saw The Bear throwing pebbles at a circular board with a red dot in the middle, hung on a tree. The Bear was definitely perfecting its art of throwing to increase its throwing accuracy. What a damn luck, the Hunter thought. And so he aimed his rifle at The Bears head, unlocked the rifle and took a long breath before re-aiming, and after he was sure of all things he pulled the trigger.

The forest was shaken by the sound and smoke the gun made.

After the smoke settled, he looked for The Bear but found nothing. He was puzzled. He raised his head to find a clearer view, when suddenly his shirt was pulled from the back hard. Seconds later, he found himself hanging in the air by his shirt, and as he rotated he ended up looking into the eyes of The Bear. The Bear's ear was bleeding, indicating that the Hunter missed his target, and The Bear did not look very happy. Within seconds The Bear stripped the Hunter's clothes down to nothing, and by looking at the angry and somewhat lusty look on The Bear's face, the Hunter knew that he's screwed.

"Prepare, human," The Bear said. The Hunter was entirely surprised: first, The Bear could talk; second, he definitely was gonna get screwed, literally.

And the silent forest again by noises, this time long, painful screams.

* * *

The second morning.

The Hunter again walked into the forest with his rifle and a cane. His lower back was still burning in pain from the event yesterday, where he was sexually assaulted and raped by The Bear. And this pulsating pain from his lower back burned him in anger, and this time he swore he'll kill The Bear even with his bare hands. No one should know that he was raped. No one.

He went passed three groups of men each raping a lady, a female goat and an oak tree, and still didn't give a damn about them. In his mind was to kill The Bear. He checked his rifle every now and then to make sure that it was locked and loaded, as he walked slowly with the help of the cane until he reached at the place where he first saw The Bear, and where he was later raped by, well, The Bear.

He slowly approached the small hill, and as expected, The Bear was there, still throwing pebbles at the circular board. He did not wait long this time. He aimed his rifle straight to The Bear's neck, and tried hard not to move at all. As his confidence emerged, he unlocked the rifle and fired upon the beast, and the forest was again shaken by the sound and smoke the gun made.

When the smoke settled, the Hunter was sure that it was finally over. He stayed still for a while to make sure that there was nothing else moving, to make sure that The Bear was really dead. And he did not hear anything. The Bear was dead. It was finally dead. He let out a long relief. The long day was over.

It was not long until he was pulled hard from his back and hung in the air by his shirt again. He went pale as he rotated slowly to face The Bear, that at the time had another ear bleeding from the Hunter's shot. And The Bear did not look happy at all.

"Why you!" the Hunter tried to punch The Bear but the beast was merely being faster than him, catching his arm with his big paw and within seconds again the Hunter was stripped naked. The Hunter's face depicted the horror he was facing. All of a sudden, the pain in his ass started to remind him of something.

"Please," he said. "Please, no, I beg you, please."

"Prepare, human."

And the silent forest again by noises, this time longer, more painful screams.

* * *

Third time.

The Hunter navigated his way with two arm crutches through the forest. In all hardship he made his way while pulling a semi-sized bronze cannon on wheels, all armed and powdered. His plan this time was clear: he will shoot The Bear in pieces with the bombard, and he was pretty sure the bombard could, since the device was designed to bomb a hole through a thick castle wall with a single shot and destroy the whole structure with the second. The cannon was just the weapon he needed to kill the bugger who had raped him twice.

The pain in his ass pulsated hard.

He pulled the cannon with so much hardship. Fueled with determination and anger, he went all vendetta. He wanted his revenge. That bastard must die.

When he reached the place, passing all the same three groups of rapist doing a cow, a manatee and a freshwater fish, he settled his cannon and calculated the cannonball projection. He loaded the super-bomber detonating cannonball he bought for a fortune specifically for this job for more killing power. Once ready, supported by his crutches he fired the cannon and the forest shook so bad at least some small animals and trees died instantly from the shock.

Once the cannonball landed, it exploded with a bang so loud more animals and trees died. The detonation created a crater the size of a medium pond and sent everything flying in the air. After the explosion, things started to settle down, flying things landed, and one of these things was The Bear's target practice circular board that landed exactly in front of the Hunter.

The hunter shed a tear and said his gratitudes for the miseries of the small town of Middlefinger and his were finally over. There was no way anything could survive that explosion. He felt relieved and joyful.

But not for long.

When he turned around to walk back towards the town, he was suddenly pulled back hard by his shirt and hung in the air again. As he rotated in the air he found himself again eye-to-eye with The Bear, that at the time was covered with dusts.

Oh no, said the Hunter again in his heart. Don't tell me I missed again.

The Bear looked at him in confusion. The human hanging in its paw was the best hunter the world could ever offer, with such bravery, determination and strength to kill, with such firepower that could rattle a small city in a simple attack, but why did he missed his target so many times? As it tried to generate some very rational answers in its mind as the Hunter rotated in its paw, it could only come out with one very strong conclusion.

"Human," The Bear said, as he proceeded to undress the Hunter before it smiled at him and continued:

"You weren't really here to kill me, were you?"

Complain

2011-04-17T00:12:00.000+08:00

I kinda feel sorry for some people.

I am not currently new to social network websites people nowadays get indulged in. Apart from Friendster that I have left inactive for almost two years now, I am currently active in Twitter and Facebook. And apart from all joy of seeing all the lively updates these people whom I am connected to posted, I started to see some very clear patterns of what a smaller group of these people tended to do each time they updated their Facebook status or tweeted in Twitter.

They complained.

Well I don't mind people complaining about things, since I myself sometimes do in order to express certain disagreements I have with things I have issues with. Nevertheless I tried not to complain a lot since I figured that it did not only bring any solution to things but also made me look like a super-pampered baby princess. Well I don't want that. And then again, who does? Alas, I know some of these people in my Twitter and Facebook that do.

To complain moderately is considerable, but these hardcore people they do not only complain but swear, throw tantrums, go nuts over things and unknowingly destroy their public image. They don't complain moderately, or say, properly and politely. They just go all in, everything goes, all of them. Well, sure, you're the kind of punk who doesn't give a damn about what people think of you. Yes, fine enough. But come on, you seriously don't?

It's never wrong to complain. People will see that you are critical about things and they can safely draw your personality using these complains you lodged previously in their knowledge. But what would people think when you lodge like a FUCKLOAD of complains? Well, since you have so much time complaining, why don't you do something about it?

Sure, you didn't like your roommate singing in the middle of the night; why didn't you go to her, slap her in the face and slam it into your knee or something? That could deliver a point.

Sure, you didn't like the way your maid did your Milo in the morning; why didn't you just make the damn thing yourself? That could make a difference.

Sure, you didn't like the way you like her but didn't have the guts to tell her; why don't you grab some balls and do it like a man? That could end some bits of your misery.

Sure, you didn't like the way the BN won the election and how their candidates did their jobs; why didn't you go in as one of the opposing candidates and secure a winning streak? We all would like to see just how you execute the duties.

I am not sorry that you complained, neither that I would be sorry if you didn't. I am sorry that you complained excessively and not doing anything about it. Come on now, do something that matters. Unless you can do something about it, might as well just leave it aside, or complain a little and move on.

Because it's better to stop talking before people stop listening.

p/s: you really sure you don't care what people say about you?

Male Sistership Behaviors Nowadays

2011-04-12T15:47:00.000+08:00

I think that men these days are becoming physically soft.

Too soft.

It had been sincerely some times since I last met and saw real men at work. What exactly I mean by real men is any man who is tough enough to go through any physical stress and live through with it. And what I mean by physical stress is not necessarily running around in the middle of a war zone carrying a 14kg multipurpose machine gun on the shoulder while holding a Gurkha knife in between the teeth like Rambo did, or going to space to drill a damn hole up on a runaway asteroid like the boys in Armageddon did.

Even the tabletop fan stops spinning when Rambo is around, just so
that he sweats more. More sweat, more heroic.

What I mean by physical stress is the ability to carry out certain duties that require specific masculine powers and although women can do it, the jobs really belong to men. For instance: home fixing, mowing the lawn, protecting belongings and properties, heavy duty lifting works and all other physically-demanding errands from the surrounding. As much as these duties may be performed safely, someone could sometimes, as easily, get sweaty, tired, and more often, hurt.

Looking at the younger generation, they think twice to do all these.

"I don't want to do the cleaning works, I might get infected from germs."

"I don't want to fix the pipe. It's dirty and disgusting."

"I don't want to mow the lawn, it's hot and I might get sweaty."

"I don't want to carry the books upstairs, I might break my back."

Urgh, what are you, a girl?

Take a look at your pale, soft skin; have you ever been walking under the sun lately? Take a look at your baby-skin palm and smooth fingers; have you ever hold a damn wrench? Look at your fine body without even a single cut; do you know how it hurts when you get a cut? That muscles you build up at the gym surely look impressive; ever helped around the house with all your overloaded strength, or is it for appearance purposes only?

You're not a queer, are you?

I cannot stand men who complains about being dirtied up, tired and sweaty from doing errands that obviously expose them to such consequences. It's entirely normal to get cut from sharp edges while fixing a car engine; get burnt from accidentally touching a hot radiator pipe; get dirtied and oiled from point contacts on mechanical parts; get sweaty from the heat, the work and anything else related. Completely normal, completely expected.

Despite his devotion to handling the oil blowout, Jim does not realize about another problem
that awaits him at home when his wife soon looks at what majestic laundry disaster she has to handle.

You don't need to send the car all the way to the workshop just to get the radiator reserve water tank filled up. You can do it yourself. But believe it or not, I have seen this happened when I sent my car for regular service at a local automotive workshop. Came someone I knew later to the workshop while I was smoking at an end of the premise. When asked, he said he wanted to fill up his radiator water tank. And he happened to be a male Mechanical Engineering student of mine.

Wait, seriously?

I wish that some of the males can get their hands into practical works. There was one time at the open laboratory workshop when suddenly a machine broke down, causing broken primary coolant fluid line to shower the whole floor with smelly, gooey liquid. I was there operating on another machine, and there were a few others too. When that breakdown happened, only three persons attended the situation, me included, while the rest of them so-called future engineers stood aside with folding arms. We were very disappointed, really.

Hey, big shots, mind helping us out here for a bit? Or you rather stand there and watch? Why, worried that your Klein's shirt got messed up? Mama told you not to play with dirt?

There was one time last year when I was supposed to visit a palm oil plantation with this one guy from another academic institution to collect some in-situ biomass samples. We agreed to go to the plantation at around 9.00am. When the time came and we met up, he asked to reschedule because 'it is hot out there'. And I snapped right away.

The man is, literally, hot.

Hello? What the HELL are you talking about? Where do you think we live at, Siberia? Well of course it's hot out there! It has to be hot! We live near the equator, everyone knows that. What do you expect, we do the sample collection at night? Or in the rain perhaps?

But we went to the plantation despite his comments on the weather. And then came another complain: mosquitoes.

Eh, hello! You knew that we're going to a plantation. Of course one will expect the presence of mosquitoes, elephants, snakes, wild boars, maybe some wartime active bombs, all these kind of things. And why are you wearing shorts? What SHIT is this? You think, what, we're going to a funfair, is it? Now the mosquitoes bit you, what do you expect me to do? Call an ambulance? Turn the place into a desert with napalm air strikes and artillery bombing to kill all mosquito population?

You just imagine how I suffered that 4 hours with him.

But that's the thing. Some of these men are beginning to be so bloody soft that they cannot stand biting mosquitoes. I think that these men should spend more times outside than in front of their computers or comics or Wii or whatever activities best carried out indoors. A lot of things we can help out there, and apart from the fact that it brings goodness to physical health, it also helps to boost some morale points up.

Well at least that's what I think. How about you?

The Love for Saltwater

2011-04-10T13:51:00.000+08:00

Despite my love for the academic (note: the academic, not educating) and the spirit to continue my research in PhD level, I had a second thought.

This second thought I had was sometime few weeks back when I was fixing the production pipeline for my high temperature gas reactor. As I was sitting with my back leaning against the high wall of the newly-acquired laboratory and my hands were busy applying PTFE tape on some valve and pipe connections, it occurred to me just how wonderful it was during my days back in Malaysia Marine & Heavy Engineering, or simply MMHE.

I was assigned to two different departments but still under the same wing division that is Engineering & Construction (E&C). On the first day, I was given a set of top jacket and pant of matching color, a safety goggle, a safety cling-lock belt and a pair of safety boot.

For the first four months I spent my days in the Commercial Estimation Department, specifically in Mechanical & Piping Disciplines. My daily work revolved around checking P&ID, suppliers' quotations, Material Take-Offs (MTO) and reviewing PDMS drawings and meeting people, among every other job. I was kind of disliking it, since I have to work in an air-conditioned environment so I have to drink a lot, and God knows how much coffee I had in that four months. The office was located at the highest floor of the three-story building, and there was this balcony where I usually spent my morning with a stick of cigarette and a mug of coffee, enjoying the scenery overlooking the enormous fabrication yards and dry docks. Usually there will be one mat salleh accompanying, who also happened to be the boss of the Commercial Bidding Department next door. A nice guy, really.

KIKEH FPSO - the common sight seen from the balcony back then

During that period of four months I have been involved with a range of projects from variety of major companies. I have dealt with some rejuvenation projects at SSB platforms, ExxonMobil's Jerneh Development Project, PETRONAS's Puteri Cluster Project, Exmar's semi-submersible repair project and some related others like Abu Cluster and KIKEH. The work hour was 8.00am to 5.00pm but I usually stayed back until 8.00pm or further, and one time up till 3.30am in the morning to prepare the submission document to Petronas that has to reach the lobby of the Twin Tower by 8.00am on the same day. It was hell, really, but I soon began to like it.

I sort of like hellish situation.

For the following four months I was reassigned into the Angel Gas Project, a Project Management Team (PMT) based construction and fabrication project. With Woodside Australia being our client, we were to build a topside (the engineering term for the platform complex) within the given time frame. And again I was assigned to the Piping Discipline, but this time it was different. This time I dealt with real engineering world.

And so my used-to-be-so-clean uniform started changing color. There were oil stains, dirt, metal chips, welding ash, mud and other things, and I started to smell like a damn dried fish. I no longer stayed long in the office; I had to run around to the warehouse to check for materials, bring with myself forms, drawings and other documents to the fabrication yard, handled client and contractor meeting, and more. I usually stayed at work from 8.00am until 11.00pm everyday, and sometimes more.

Why would I be spending so much time at work? Because I like it.

I like the smell of saltwater lingering in the air, and the smell of burning metal after undergoing acetylene cut. I like the smell of rotting steel, the smell of thick grease and heavy oil in the air. I like the sea more than ever. The sight of faraway land across the Tebrau Channel - Singapore - made my day. That piece of flat land appeared adorable in the morning, in the afternoon, and at night. It appeared lovely during foggy morning and rainy evening. I usually went to the shore at the shiplift facility at the end of the yard and opened my jacket and sat there on the shoreline rocks enjoying a can or two of chilled coke while admiring the sunset from 6.00pm till 7.00pm every damn day. It was nice, really.

At night usually they did the dry-docking procedures. Sometimes when a ship needed a touch-up or a makeover, it was brought into the huge dry dock for marine repair works. The docking and tie-in jobs were done at night for the water line was stable and calmer, and because the work itself was pretty damn dangerous. Had yourself a snapped metal cable the size of your arm flying at you, and that's it - you're a dead man. But the most pleasant sight of all was when the ship entered (or left) the dry dock with gallant lightings and majestic horn. It was very beautiful.

My favorite Puteri Firus that docked twice in MMHE during my time

All in all, I missed the applied engineering world, best described as the heavy fabrication and construction industry. With my masters completing, I am now looking forward to be absorbed back into this lovely field of mine and I soon will be meddling back in oil and sweats again.

Oh the love. Please someone bring me back there?

p/s: I am currently applying for ME/Piping job.

Man 101: Make Him Stay

2011-04-04T09:49:00.000+08:00

Good morning, loves.

One dumb fella recently asked another dumb fella who is twice as dumb, that is me, about how to please a loved one. Hmm. Tricky one. Not that I could not come out with anything that I could make out of nothing at all just for the sake of providing the answer he needed; I was just being dumbfounded myself. I'm twice as dumb, remember?

So they said that,

Admire your man and you will earn his love; appreciate your woman and you will earn hers.

Albeit it sounds as easy, it is not. To admire and to appreciate are just words that describe humanly behavior towards something of interests, but how exactly both actions are done might require a little bit of explanation.

Since this very same question might have popped out in all of your beautiful minds whether or not caused by the statement of inquiry proposed to me by the dumb fella above, I might just follow through and carry out the explanation part of how exactly one can please one's loved one. And since that more than two-third majority - the same quantity of seats required to determine which party becomes the country's ruling government - of the readers of this blog are women, I have decided to only explain on how to please a man than to elaborate on pleasing both man and women. This is fairly justified by the fact that women these days might have lost the diva touch when it comes to handling men, therefore the needs for me to assist in providing the solutions for you hopeless females to think and act appropriately.

So how does a woman pleases her man?

* * *

Men are interesting creatures.

Men normally have the superior ability when compared to women in many aspects. They can perform physically and mentally better. They have a sense of competitions and dare to take even the most impossible challenges. But as often as they go, they appear to be useless when it comes to certain things, for example folding clothes and taking care of babies.

That is why we have women.

In order for balance to take place, men and women find themselves in pair so that each can take care of the other one's errands that he or she cannot carry out properly for themselves. Although many claim that they can take care of themselves well henceforth the needs to have a partner becomes irrelevant, we all cannot argue that no one can heroically handle loneliness, despite how much one love oneself and how one tries to have sex with oneself, however that supposes to happen, anyway.

The relationship between men and women rocks at times. It's like going to the toilet in the morning. Sometimes you get some very easy flow. Sometimes things get rocky. Sometimes it takes times. Sometimes nothing comes out at all. Sometimes you get explosive diarrhea. Sometimes, even worst, the explosive diarrhea happens even before you have the chance to open your pants or get to the toilet. To top everything else, you don't have time to go to the toilet when you need to the most.

Therefore, regular makeups and controls are necessary in order to keep the balance and order in the relationship. This includes give and take, tolerance, discipline, principles and integrity, among all worth mentioning. Should the balance is disturbed, the couple may find themselves in trouble; they might be looking at a huge rock rolling down a steep hill in front of them and soon both get killed because one person pulls the other to one side and vice versa, and none gives in.

Hence to women, and some gays maybe, the needs to please your men are vitally, critically important. And same goes to men as well; pleasing your women (or your gay partners, whichever applies) is dead important too.

Pleasing men is not as easy, for men come in different varieties.

But generally men like to be the top of everything. Nothing feels better than to be admired. Even though a man cannot be at the top of the world, at least being at the top of one's world is sufficient to boost his ego. You can never imagine how a very small compliment in the morning changes a man's whole day, especially if this compliment comes from a loved one. He might be a bowl of rotten shits at work, but a compliment on how he goes to work everyday from his wife gives him the drive to, despite how much he despise his workplace, how he hates his job, just because there is someone who believes in him he does nevertheless, and eventually make better things, miraculously.

Dearest women,

Show to the world just how he means to you. Write things up about him for people to see. Fill your Twitter, Facebook, your Tumbler, your blog and many more alternative to digital writing solutions with your thoughts about him. Show to the world that you belong to him, and he belongs to you. Because once a man does not feel belonged, he leaves, and most of the time, he does not come back. As long as you stay a home to him, no matter how much both of you argue and fight over things that it makes him leave, over time he will come back to you, just because home is where his heart is.

Be a home to him. Be his shelter.

Because despite all the masculinity, we men are afraid. We have frustrations. We have disappointments. We have regrets. We are uncertain. We are all insecure. No man is secure, no matter how secure he looks on the outside. This explains why rich men keep working for more money. We all cry. We all get lonely. Sometimes the loneliness is so painful that punching a wall might just help. We have all these. And not that the burden on our shoulders are not heavy enough for us to drag with us along the way, when you start to become just another rock in the bundle on our backs.

You don't see all these because most men wear masks of EGO.

If he doubts you, make him sure. Because that is all he wants. To be sure of you. That you are for real. You are not just a dancing doll. You are not just a visitor. You are not just an injured bird that soon flies away when you heal. You're not just another bloodsucker. He will constantly feel insecure just because losing you might mean to him as losing everything. This especially happens in unmarried couple, because the easiness of things to slip away is at a great probability. What if one day you leave? What if one day you stop loving him? He worries about that. Ergo, he needs constant reassuring. It'll be tiring, but it's gonna worth it if you love the man so much.

It's like your new Blackberry; you check for it every second or so in your pocket to make sure it's there, to a point that if the phone can talk, it'd be cursing at you for being so insecure. "Get a grip!" it'd say.

So show it to him. Show it to everyone else. Make him feels that he belongs to you. Romeo and Juliet wouldn't be so beautiful of a love story if no one knows about it. Perhaps it'd be an easy one. Perhaps none of them died for love, but from obesity and heart attack from becoming so fat and out of love. There's nothing beautiful there. There is no sense of belonging. Once the sense of belonging disappears, love disappears. And that's it, that's the end of love.

So don't be there.

As I said, you cannot imagine how a small compliment brightens a man's day ten times if it comes from a loved one. The amount of tricks to success he will pull from that will be unbelievable. This is why they said behind a successful man stands a successful woman. So make him worry less and sure more, and I am sure that things will work themselves out over times. Try that for a while and get back to me if it doesn't work. Then we'll work on something else. You can propose your questions to me at the comment section or my Facebook Fan Page.

Unless, of course, you don't love him that much.

* * *

Take on me, take me on,
I'll be gone, in a day or two.

'Take On Me' by A-Ha, taken from the album Hunting High and Low, 1985, Warner Bros. Records Norway.

Angel in Velvet

2011-03-29T13:59:00.001+08:00

And she comes to me without any word.

Stand before my eyes her entire body, covered with velvet cloth in grey, as I sit motionless, my eyes on her. Little do I move, or having the slightest need to, for my weatherbeaten self begins to deteriorate from punishing journey of all time. Tired and powerless, my body rests on that old patio chair; my hands lie quietly on its peeling armrests, my back lean against its hard wooden structure, my head tilts to one side. From my half-opened eyes, I could see her standing, her face darkens from shining bright light from the background. There is nothing else around but her, for everything around me is nothing but just an empty white room with white walls and white floor and ceiling and everything.

She pulls her gown upward, revealing a bit of her fair-skinned leg.

She starts walking around me, taking closer look at how exhausted I am. I feel cold inside, and when she comes closer I could feel the radiance of heat brushing against my skin from a distance, and disappears as she moves further. In my nose I smell the scents of thousand flowers, fresh morning meadows, cooling spring water. I close my eyes and inhale it deep into me, pushing my nose towards the sky, adoring the sensuality. I feel refreshed.

And then she stops behind me, placing her palms on both sides of my shoulder, rubbing out the pain gently; the radiating heat from her body slowly travels into me. She moves her fingers, I could feel her very soft skin, up to my neck and onto my cheeks and entire face. The intoxicating scent gets awfully real, awfully intimidating. She lets her palms pressed against the skin below my jaw, on my ears, caressing my head in the most lovable manner. She leans forward and her hair - her long, thick, wavy hair - falls onto my face as she pulls my face up to look at her; very little do I resist, for the smell of her hair warms me up even more pleasantly. I slowly grab the armrests with my naked hands, slowly taken aback by her sensual approach; my wondering mind slowly becomes so empty, the pain diverts away.

And her lips.

Her soft lips lands on my face, just a little away from my deafening ear. I could feel her warm breath brushing me as she moves her lips down along my neck line to my bare shoulder. Her moist lips leave a mysterious trail of love and affection. Softly she sinks her fingers into my hair, grabbing it, pulling it away from her face just so that my neck appears more approachable, for her to sink her plush cheeks and moist lips onto, while her hands still caressing my face, my shoulder, my chest. Never I open my eyes anymore, not because I am too tired, but for something tells me not to. Just sit and enjoy the show, her warm breath whispers, as she lets it travelling close to my helpless ear.

And then her arms fold around my neck pleasantly, as she presses her face against mine closely. And oh, the warmth and the joyful love I feel, nothing can really describe. The intoxicating scent of her body pushes me deeper into my own sensations, my own imaginations, my own dream. Barely I can breath from this killing scent, let alone from her tightening hug. But I feel just well damn better. Her tender motions make me slowly dying in her agonizing beauty.

And then she turns around and tenderly she sits on my lap. With her hands pushing against my chest she comes closer; the featherlight pressure from her palms grows as she does. In no time her face comes before mine, just as inch apart; my whole face warms up, so does my whole body, so does my weak heart. Her long hair, around my face creates a barrier, and from my closed eyes the white light disappears. Her hair shades everything as she lowers her face closer towards mine, I could feel her breath again wiping on my dry lips, drawing them into me makes me feel even more alive. Her sweet-smelling breath gives me power as it lightly travels into every vein in my weakened body.

I raise my arms and my hands find her by her velvet-covered waist. She is so warm, so pleasantly warm, giving a sense pleasantness, like a living fireplace during the worst of winter nights. I lay my arms across on her back, my fingers grab the velvet fabric tight, the moment gets more intense. Time seems to stop, the air no longer moves. With my eyes still closed I find her hair and caress it gently, sinking my fingers into, and brushing it as if I am brushing my fingers against priceless sheets of silk. Our beating hearts reach the same pace. I feel her silky skin on her neck, as she lets out a short sigh next to my ears.

Come on now, tell me that you love me.

Come on now, tell me that you desire me.

Come on now, tell me that you want me.

I opened my eyes to look at her beautiful eyes, and almost as instantly, she disappears into thin air. My hands hang unsupported, all the warmth dissipates away. All that is left is her intoxicating scent that is, too, slowly thinning in the ambient. Within a minute or two, she disappears completely into complete nothingness, leaving me still stranded on probably soon to be my death bed. And my body starts to rot again, as I slowly lose my breath, my whole body weakens more and more till I can no more feel any pain, even from those little peeling paints on the armrest that poke into my arms. Here comes the bright light again, and for the last time, I close my eyes. Tears come rolling down the corners of my eyes, not from the sadness nor the disappointment I am feeling, but from the unexpected visit of an angel in grey velvet, minutes before everything ends for real.

And soon, it does.

* * *

p/s: me and my sad imaginations.

Hikayat John Takde Kote

2011-03-29T11:42:00.000+08:00

[Ini entri pendek untuk orang yang panjang berfikir.]

Pandang kiri-kanan, lihat apa yang tak kena.

Mesti ada punya. Dan selalunya apabila ada benda yang tak kena di pandangan mata, mulalah mulut menggatal nak bersuara.

"Ini siapa punya seluar dalam campak atas lantai, tak reti nak campak dalam bekas baju kotor?"

"Ini siapa punya kerja kotorkan meja, pandai kotorkan tak reti nak lap balik?"

"Ini siapa punya anak merayau tak tentu hala, dah reti buat tak reti nak jaga?"

Bila dah mula bersuara sebegitu, kadang-kadang mulut ada sedikit lagi gatal nak bersuara lebih lagi. Alang-alang kata orang. Mulalah keluar benda-benda yang tak berapa sedap didengar.

"Ini siapa punya seluar dalam campak atas lantai, tak reti nak campak dalam bekas baju kotor? Bapak tak ajar ke?"

"Ini siapa punya kerja kotorkan meja, pandai kotorkan tak reti nak lap balik? Bapak tak ajar ke?"

"Ini siapa punya anak merayau tak tentu hala, dah reti buat tak reti nak jaga? Bapak tak ajar ke?"

Selalunya bila dah sampai ke tahap yang begini, jarang sekali ada yang menyahut, termasuklah sesiapa yang bersalah itu sendiri. Maka untuk mengekalkan momentum bebelan yang sudah mencapai tahap kedua, perlulah ada sedikit lagi tambahan terhadap bebelan yang sudah sedia ada tadi. Selalunya, tahap ketiga ini melibatkan tuduhan bersasar. Melulu atau tidak itu belakang kira, yang penting ada yang kena.

"Ini siapa punya seluar dalam campak atas lantai, tak reti nak campak dalam bekas baju kotor? Bapak tak ajar ke? Ini mesti si John punya kerja."

"Ini siapa punya kerja kotorkan meja, pandai kotorkan tak reti nak lap balik? Bapak tak ajar ke? Ini mesti si John punya kerja."

"Ini siapa punya anak merayau tak tentu hala, dah reti buat tak reti nak jaga? Bapak tak ajar ke? Ini mesti si John punya kerja."

Nak sedap lagi, tambah sedikit celaan terhadap tuduhan-tuduhan tadi, agar yang tertuduh dapat berikan perhatian yang sewajarnya.

"Ini siapa punya seluar dalam campak atas lantai, tak reti nak campak dalam bekas baju kotor? Bapak tak ajar ke? Ini mesti si John anak haram tu punya kerja. Kau dengan bapak kau sama je la John."

"Ini siapa punya kerja kotorkan meja, pandai kotorkan tak reti nak lap balik? Bapak tak ajar ke? Ini mesti si John anak haram tu punya kerja. Kau dengan mak kau sama je la John."

"Ini siapa punya anak merayau tak tentu hala, dah reti buat tak reti nak jaga? Bapak tak ajar ke? Ini mesti si John anak haram tu punya kerja. Kau dengan keturunan kau sama je la John."

Kalau masih tak dapat perhatian daripada yang teetuduh, lemparkan lagi sedikit kata-kata provokasi yang mampu menaikkan darah sang tertuduh.

"Ini siapa punya seluar dalam campak atas lantai, tak reti nak campak dalam bekas baju kotor? Bapak tak ajar ke? Ini mesti si John anak haram tu punya kerja. Kau dengan bapak kau sama je la John. Wei John pukimak, kau dengar tak ni?"

"Ini siapa punya kerja kotorkan meja, pandai kotorkan tak reti nak lap balik? Bapak tak ajar ke? Ini mesti si John anak haram tu punya kerja. Kau dengan mak kau sama je la John. Wei John lancau mak lu, kau dengar tak ni?"

"Ini siapa punya anak merayau tak tentu hala, dah reti buat tak reti nak jaga? Bapak tak ajar ke? Ini mesti si John anak haram tu punya kerja. Kau dengan keturunan kau sama je la John. Wei John takde kote, kau dengar tak ni?

Selalunya bila sudah tiba ke tahap ini, orang kena tuduh (OKT) selalunya akan memberikan reaksi. Kalau bukan penyepak John singgah ke dahi, John akan mula buat hal-hal lain untuk menunjukkan rasa tak puas hati terhadap tuduhan yang singgah di mukanya, betul atau tidak itu lain cerita, yang penting perang sudah bermula.

Tapi sebelum itu, kita lihat pula variasi tuduhan seperti di bawah:

"Ini siapa punya seluar dalam campak atas lantai, tak reti nak campak dalam bekas baju kotor? Bapak tak ajar ke? Ini mesti anak haram tu punya kerja. Kau dengan bapak kau sama je la. Wei pukimak, kau dengar tak ni?"

"Ini siapa punya kerja kotorkan meja, pandai kotorkan tak reti nak lap balik? Bapak tak ajar ke? Ini mesti anak haram tu punya kerja. Kau dengan mak kau sama je la. Wei lancau mak lu, kau dengar tak ni?"

"Ini siapa punya anak merayau tak tentu hala, dah reti buat tak reti nak jaga? Bapak tak ajar ke? Ini mesti anak haram tu punya kerja. Kau dengan keturunan kau sama je la. Wei takde kote, kau dengar tak ni?

Agak-agak adakah John akan mengamuk tidak tentu hala dengan tuduhan-tuduhan tersebut, sedangkan tuduhan-tuduhan itu MUNGKIN disasarkan kepada dirinya, tapi tidak ada apa-apa pun tuduhan yang melibatkan namanya dibuat? Sekiranya dia melenting apabila dikatakan sebegitu rupa, itu menunjukkan yang dirinya ada rasa bersalah. Maka, apa maknanya?

* * *

Itu saja untuk hari ini. Untuk latihan adik-adik di rumah, sila kembangkan masalah di bawah:

"Ini siapa punya video seks ni?!"

Malapetaka

2011-03-29T01:02:00.000+08:00

"Dan ketahuilah kalian semua bahawa hamba ini baru berhadapan satu malapetaka yang amat dahsyat sekali..."

* * *

It seemed that my being missing has been heartfelt by many.

As much as I wanted to assure you all that I have been taking care of myself well since we last met, much to my conscience too to inform you that, despite I am physically alright, I am emotionally not.

There has been something bothering my mind, and still.

In life, there are some stuffs that you may get to know and some other that you need to leave them be without knowing. Just as much as God has told us not to investigate into matters too much for the amount of unrevealed knowledge might be just too extreme for us to handle, I did break through the barrier just to know just a little bit more, only to find that in the end I am in a position where I knew too much. And The Prophet was all right about when one knows too much, one goes nuts.

Therefore I am.

Revealed beyond the eyes of mine who wanted to know just a little bit more beyond my ability, the hidden knowledge of the past that should have instead stayed buried deep within time. And made before my own eyes the real story; the big picture, the real chain of events that brought out my most and only fear, of knowing what I should not be.

What I know does not matter.

But what it does to me do. Since knowing it I have seen myself sitting at the corner of my bed in the dark since the past few days, shivering, not from the coldest of night rain outside nor the flickering street lights that shone through the wet window glasses, but from my own fear. I have seen myself placing my palms on my sweating face, cursing, damning, blaming my own curiosity, my cravings that caused me to know too much, just way too much.

If I could travel back in time, I would have stopped myself from stepping into the matter, because my life could have been better without knowing what I already knew now. But that could not be done, at least not now. And henceforth I am left with no choice but to endure the fact that I have known, and I shall forever be that way.

What I am currently going through right now, come to think of it, could be more worst than The One-Year Depression I went through in the period between 2009 to 2010. And even more worst, there is no possible way to reverse the effect of knowing, except by either losing my memory or my head, or perhaps both.

When I got to know about this thing that currently bothers my mind so much - the thing I should have not known at all - I felt like I was punched continuously by a jackhammer in the stomach, got hit twice by a 3-ton truck, got run over by a one-kilometer long passenger train back and forth, thrown into a pool of burning gasoline, and back to the jackhammer series of punching, and repeat.

It's like, it's like a lightning bolt coming and hit you right at your face and blew your head up so bad even the coroner won't take a second look at you once you hit the morgue.

At the time this entry is written, I still am struggling against my own mind; the battle I foresee might last for some couple of years or so, unless, of course, I lose my mind, or my head in that very long course of war. And by the look of it, my raging mind has most of the advantage, leading in position against my own conscience, pushing me all the way down into a clear sense of defeat.

Or probably a bullet in the head tomorrow would do.

* * *

"Dan ketahuilah kalian semua bahawa hamba ini baru berhadapan satu malapetaka yang amat dahsyat sekali, sehinggakan jantung yang berdenyut di dalam dada hamba ini seakan direntap dengan kasar sekali.

Tiadalah mampu hamba bernafas dengan sempurna, apatah lagi melangkah dengan tertib. Gelap pandangan mata hamba ini tiada berkehujungan, berbasahlah hamba dek hujan yang berpanjangan. Tiadalah berselera hamba untuk bersuap nasi, apakan lagi merasai rasa riang dan ria, dek gundah gulana yang bermaharajalela di hati.

Namun sekiranya itulah yang tersurat buat hamba, tiadalah hamba mampu melawan lagi, tunduklah hamba kepada segala yang mendatang, demi rasa bahagia yang kekal abadi."

Biasalah, Orang Kita.

2011-03-24T15:32:00.000+08:00

Tidak lama selepas diterbitkan, entri sebelum ini mendapat kritikan hebat daripada para pengkritik bebas yang sepanjang hidupnya tiadalah benda lain yang dibuatnya melainkan mengkritik sahaja.

Katanya, orang tak sekolah tinggi pun boleh jadi jutawan. Contohnya Syed Mokhtar Al-Bukhary yang sekolah cuma sampai tingkatan lima, tapi kini punya harta lebih RM 2 billion. Disebut pula nama Robert Kuok dan Lim Goh Tong yang masing-masing sekolah tak tinggi mana tapi kekayaannya tak habis dimakan. Itu belum kira Loh Boon Siew lagi. Ini lagilah, sekolah pun tidak, datang ke Penang naik sampan dari China, dan jadi jutawan di akhir cerita.

Satu common trait dalam mereka: belajar tidak tinggi mana, tapi hidup kaya raya.

Dan dicananglah cerita-cerita tersebut kepada para mereka yang entah apa nasibnya tidak begitu menyerlah dan hanya mampu skor cukup-cukup makan saja di bidang akademik. Maka untuk tidak menghancurkan semangat para mereka yang kurang bernasib baik ini, diceritakanlah kisah-kisah bagaimana orang-orang yang sekolahnya tidak tinggi mana boleh mampu berjaya. Dan berbunga-bungalah hati mereka-mereka ini dengan kisah-kisah halwa telinga yang berjaya memarakkan api yang mulanya kembang kuncup di hati.

Masalahnya, mampukah mereka ini berjaya seperti Syed Mokhtar, Boon Siew dan Robert Kuok?

Syed Mokhtar pada awalnya membantu bapak beliau mengerjakan lembu belaan. Dan berpatah riuk lah beliau mengerjakan lembu-lembu belaan tersebut; mana yang nak diberi makan, mana yang nak dimandikan, mana yang nak dibawa jalan-jalan, mana yang nak dilayan dek merajuk mahukan perhatian, mana yang nak disepak-terajang akibat berkurang-ajar dalam kelakuan, semua ini perlu dibuat dalam masa beberapa jam saja. Bayangkanlah betapa gilanya work schedule Syed Mokhtar pada ketika itu.

Boon Siew adalah individu yang bertanggungjawab membawa masuk motosikal Honda Cub ke Tanah Melayu. Beliau masuk ke Pulau Pinang dan bekerja sebagai mekanik di bengkel sejak dirinya masih baru nak hidup kata orang. Dan bergelumanglah Boon Siew dengan minyak hitam, kuning, merah dan entah apa warna lagi di sekitar masanya di bengkel. Berkawan dengan alat-alat ganti yang diperbuat daripada besi padu waktu itu, tidak mungkin Boon Siew boleh balik tanpa sedikit pun kesan calar di mana-mana bahagian badan. Itu belum kira tokay bengkel yang kalau Boon Siew buat salah sedikit, mesti kena hempuk di kepala.

Robert Kuok pula, katanya orang, menulis pun tidak tau. Lim Goh Tong pula belajar setakat sampai darjah enam. Tapi mereka kerja kuat untuk menggapai apa yang mereka idamkan, sebijik dengan apa yang kau orang semua idamkan - mau hidup senang, mau hidup kaya raya.

Kita tengok pula budak kita hari ini.

Nak disuruh kerjakan ladang lembu? Lembu sekor pun belum tentu boleh hidup dibela. Tahi cicak sebesar sebutir beras jatuh atas meja pun nak harapkan pembantu rumah sapukan (jijik kononnya), inikan pulak nak bersihkan kandang lembu? Tahi lembu besar mana, tahu? Nak menebas rumput pagi-pagi buta, nak diusungkan pulak sampai ke mulut lembu tu, sanggup? Nak berkasih-sayang dengan lembu yang baunya Ya Rabbi tuhan saja tau, mampu?

Tak mau. Malu.

Nak disuruh kerja di bengkel? Nak pasang almari pasang siap beli di Tesco pun terkial-kial, ini nak baiki motor, kereta? Enjin kereta mati sendiri, macam mana nak hidupkan semula pun kau dah garu kepala. Silap-silap nanti kerja kau dekat bengkel tu dah jadi benda lain. Korek blok, potong piston, modify ekzos kasi bunyi gegar dunia; motor elok-elok kilang keluarkan, kau nak ringankan, nak lajukan lagi. Bila dah laju, kau nak lajukan lagi. Dan lagi. Dan lagi. Sudahnya orang kampung jumpa kau tersangkut atas pokok mangga hujung simpang; badan kau atas pokok, tapi perut dengan kaki kau melekat lagi dekat motor.

Sanggupkah berguru dengan tokei bengkel, kena ketuk kepala setiap kali buat salah? Cih. Cikgu dekat sekolah naikkan suara sedikit pun kau sampai panggil mak bapak dengan orang suratkhabar ke sekolah, inikan pulak kena ketuk dengan spanar dekat kepala.

Hidup mana boleh cepat kaya, kawan. Mana ada orang boleh kaya dengan duduk goyang kaki.

"Alah apa susah, main MLM la."

Ini lagi satu hal. Eh, apahal login Facebook dapat RM100? Siapa nak kasi? Siapa dah kaya buat benda ni, cuba tunjuk sini. Siapa berani kasi RM100 kat kau semata dengan main Facebook? Cuba fikir betul-betul. Ini tidak, ada orang ambil gambar atas kereta mewah sikit, kau dah buta mata.

Perasan tak, yang selalunya orang MLM ni kalau nak iklankan perniagaan, kalau yang laki-laki mesti pakai tali leher, kot segala, dan kalau yang perempuan mesti nak pakai gelang emas sampai ke ketiak dengan rantai leher emas yang tebalnya macam tali lembu. Di belakang mesti ada banglo besar, tak pun kereta Merc dua tiga biji. Paling koman pun, duduk di meja bersilang tangan dengan duit RM 4 juta cash bersusun cantik di depan mata. Yang duduk tu senyumnya pun lain macam saja.

HOI! Kau tak takut pencurik ka?

Maka bila orang ceritakan kisah Syed Mokhtar, Boon Siew dan semuanya tu pada kau, hendaklah kau tanyakan pada diri kau sendiri, adakah kau sanggup lalui apa yang mereka lalui demi untuk mengubah masa depan sendiri? Atau kau lebih senang menyalahkan kerajaan sebab hidup kau miskin papa, sedangkan disuruh kerja malas, disuruh belajar kau tak mau. Bangun pagi pun susah, bila malam tak pula reti nak tidur. Lepas tu kerja kau komplen sajalah. Itu salah ini salah. Bila disuruh betulkan, kau menyorok belakang pintu. Bila orang tegur, kau melenting, baling-baling penyapu. Makan tak reti nak berhenti, tapi bila disuruh cari makan kau buat tak reti.

Macam ni nak jadi Syed Mokhtar Al Bukhary?

Lepas tu kalau ada orang lain yang hidupnya senang sikit daripada hidup kau, kau mulalah nak dengki khianat segala. Haha, tak ada benda lainlah tu, cuma satu cara saja nak explain kejadian sebegitu rupa:

Biasalah, orang kita.

SPM 9A Yang Entah Akan Ke Mana

2011-03-24T12:24:00.000+08:00

Keputusan SPM sudah diumumkan.

Maka berduyun-duyunlah para mereka yang telah menduduki peperiksaan ini berhijrah ke sekolah untuk melihat keputusan masing-masing. Dan seperti biasa akan ada yang melompat kegembiraan, dan ada pula yang berguling di lantai dikerumuni rasa kecewa. Ada yang tak sempat menyempat nak balik rumah tunjuk sijil pada mak bapak, dan ada yang sampai ke malam tak balik-balik akibat rasa takut nak tunjuk sijil pada mak bapak. Ada yang saja lepak lama-lama di sekolah untuk berlagak dengan keputusan yang diperoleh, dan ada yang lepas dapat keputusan terus cabut tak nampak muka lagi. Ada yang menangis mendayu-dayu, tapi sebab disebalik tangisan itu tidaklah pula diketahui.

Dan pagi ini ada yang bangun tidur dengan muka puas, dan ada pula yang bangun tidur dengan mata bengkak, sama ada kerana menangis sepanjang malam, atau akibat menerima penumbuk bapak.

Apa pun SPM sudah berlalu. Kini sudah masa untuk maju ke hadapan. Masa untuk masuk ke alam universiti. Dan kalau keputusan kau bagus, kampus-kampus pengajian tinggi semuanya merayu-rayu untuk kau mendaftar di sana. Kalau keputusan kau lingkup, kau pulalah yang merayu-rayu nak masuk ke sana.

Martabat dan harga diri kau pun tinggi melangit. Ramailah yang nanti mengaku keluarga, mengaku kawan-kawan, mengaku yang tercinta. Banyaklah nanti makcik-makcik yang datang menyapa:

"Pandainya dapat 9A. Nak kahwin dengan anak makcik?"

"Pandainya dapat 9A. Nak kahwin dengan makcik?"

Offer yang pertama tu sedap juga bunyinya. Offer yang kedua pula buat kau berfalsafah, yang kononnya perjalanan kau jauh lagi. Dan kau pun mulalah tak sedar diri. Sekarang kau sudah jadi hero bukan satu-dua hari. Tawaran pusat pengajian tinggi datang tak henti-henti. Yang mana tawarannya elok kau simpan bawah bantal, yang mana tawarannya kurang bagus di pandangan mata kau, kau campak di luar pagar agar orang lalu-lalang boleh tengok. Itu belum tawaran biasiswa lagi tu.

Budak-budak berbulu saja dengan kau.

Sampai masa masuk ke universiti, kau bawak lagi rasa megah kau ke sana. Apa salahnya ponteng kelas sekali dua, kau kan 9A SPM. Apa salahnya tak hantar assignment sekali dua, kau kan 9A SPM. Apa salahnya tak buat kuiz sekali dua, kau kan 9A SPM. Apa salahnya sampahkan lecturer dengan tutor sekali dua, kau kan 9A SPM. Apa salahnya tak study sekali dua, kau kan 9A SPM. Fikir logik, kalau 9 subjek kau boleh dapat A, takkan 5, 6 subjek satu semester kau tak boleh dapat A?

Kacang sajalah kata kau. Kau kan 9A SPM.

Sampai masa nak final exam, kau pun siap-siap nak belajar. Lepas tu kau menggelabah. Buat past year paper semua tak faham. Kau pergi kedai buku cari 'Soalan Ramalan Calculus' dan 'Skor A Fluid Mechanics' tak ada dan tak pernah ada dijual. Nak harapkan tips daripada lecturer pun bunyinya macam sangat asing di dalam telinga kau. Nak mintak tolong tutor pun kau rasa malu, sebab kau pernah panggil dia sayur satu masa dulu, tambahan pula kau selalu tak pergi kelas dia. Lagipun kau kan 9A SPM, apa class tanya orang lain. Malulah kau nanti.

Dalam dewan peperiksaan kau termenung mengenang nasib. 3 jam kau termenung.

Nanti bila peperiksaan habis, cuti pun bermula. Kau pun mulalah bersuka ria. Tak ingat hujung pangkal tak ingat dunia. Iyalah, budak 9A SPM balik kampung halaman. Budak-budak lain berbulu tengok kau, awek-awek pula kepit peha tengok kau. Mak bapak tanya exam macam mana, kau kata, "alah tak ada hal lah, saya kan 9A SPM." Masa berlalu tak kenal berhenti, pejam celik pejam celik dah tiba masa keputusan keluar. Kau pun dengan muka bangga kau buka komputer. Klik klik klik, result terpampang di depan mata.

Bila kau baca, rahang kau jatuh ke meja.

Eh, apa sudah jadi? 2 subjek gagal, 1 lagi C, 2 D? CGPA kau pula sama berat dengan 1 kilo gula. Celaka! kata kau. Ini mesti tutor sayur tu punya kerja. Ini mesti lecturer tak guna tu punya idea. Aku kan SPM 9A, mana boleh dapat keputusan macam ni! SMS mula menghimpun masuk ke telefon bimbit, kawan-kawan tanya result dapat berapa. Kau mula menggelabah kali kedua. Mak bapak tanya result macam mana, kau kata server kampus meletup, result tak boleh baca.

Seminggu lepas tu kau balik ke kampus. Kawan-kawan sudah ke depan, kau repeat dua paper. Tutor yang kau kata sayur tu sengih sampai ke telinga. Apa tidaknya, kau masuk lagi kelas dia. Tak lama lepas tu kampus hantar result ke rumah. Bapak kau telefon kau menggeletar nak angkat. Pihak penaja pengajian pun mulalah hantar surat cinta, kata kalau kau tak berubah lagi baik putus saja. Dengan azam baru kau mula bersemangat semula. Tapi tak sampai separuh semester kau balik ke perangai lama. Kau mula buat tak kisah, nak study esok-esok pun boleh, setakat 4, 5 subjek takkanlah kau tak boleh nak skor, senang cerita assignment, kuiz semua itu belakang cerita.

Apa nak risau, SPM dulu kau dapat 9A apa.