Do you know how it feels being betrayed? Do you know how it feels to be angry at someone not knowing how to diffuse the anger? Do you know how heavy it feels to carry the grudges around not able to let go?
I do. I know how it feels being betrayed. Somehow rather, I am a magnet to betrayers. They are attracted to me, like the south pole is attracted to the north. They seem to stick on, suck dry and say bye-bye. Like leeches. But leeches are the better creatures. At least they suck on your blood and consume it for their being. Betrayers suck on your blood and smear it all over other people and tell them it's you who did the dirty job. Betrayers want to make themselves look good. And get the fingers pointed at you.
But there must be a reason why I am a magnet. And that I want to know. What do I do wrong, where must I change, what must I do, how do I do it. How do I un-magnet myself. And be able to tell between the leeches and the betrayers. Am I a mean person that these are forms of paybacks? Or am I too trusting and too giving that they take me for a fool? I want to know because I need to be a better person. To be able to defend myself from being hurt over and over again, so that I don't feel that I never learn.
:(
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Fasting, Respect and Me
Today I fast - I fast from my anger, from allowing it to take control of me. As much as I want to succumb to its raging fire, I also want to see the outcome of me trying to be patient. But I can tell you this much, it's just as tiring as fasting in Ramadhan.
I am a person who speaks my mind. I don't really care whose toes I step on. I don't like it, I say it. I like it, I mean it. And when my pride is hurt, I yell.
But in a typical Malay environment, a person like me is not welcomed. Malays generally do not welcome criticism especially those that address their personalities, their actions, their likings. I admit somewhat I am a Malay, being that I take a few moments to fully accept critics. From the moment of criticism to the point of full acceptance, the one thing that I mainly deal is the feeling of flushes on my cheeks. When the warmth subsides, I know I'm composed enough to either rebut or to acknowledge the comments. I'm trying to be different, trying to be a non-typical typical Malay.
I also do not suck up, kiss-ass or throw unintended praises.
Again, my positive attitude is a no-no for the Malays. If you don't suck up, you don't get to go up. If you don't agree, you don't get to see that extra bonus in your payslip. It sucks BIG time!
But what frustrates me most is that the leader of the suck-up pact is the newly appointed second highest person in the organization. A man so desperate to get votes (I never know I starred in American Idol all these while...) he'd stop at nothing. He'd come up with the wierdest of reasons for not approving a sports event - when in actual fact, I'd say to win support and to get to know your subordinates is from minggling with them outside of the office hours. These would be the time when true personalities come out. He'd give a mind-boggling reason for not approving anything - like, the PM training I requested for myself is "too deep" for me! Maybe I should request for a clerical training instead????
OK... OK... I admit. That's what the whole anger is about... My training was labelled as "too deep" for me. Like, duuhhhh!!! He must think that taking MBA classes put him levels higher than the rest of us! The thing here is class, man! If you ain't got class, you ain't got it at all! Huh, there goes... in split second my intonation changes.
Taking deep breath now... Cooling down... I'm fasting... from my anger...
So here I am, swallowing my pride and keeping quiet. He can think I'm shallow - he who thinks others are shallow is shallower than the shallowest stream. He can think I'm obliging - he will see a master rebel in the making. He can downgrade, humiliate, underestimate. But he can never get one thing from me ever - R.E.S.P.E.C.T. (even if I am the shallowest, tiniest, most insignificant being on earth).
"Too deep"... asshole...
(susah betul nak sabar ni....)
I am a person who speaks my mind. I don't really care whose toes I step on. I don't like it, I say it. I like it, I mean it. And when my pride is hurt, I yell.
But in a typical Malay environment, a person like me is not welcomed. Malays generally do not welcome criticism especially those that address their personalities, their actions, their likings. I admit somewhat I am a Malay, being that I take a few moments to fully accept critics. From the moment of criticism to the point of full acceptance, the one thing that I mainly deal is the feeling of flushes on my cheeks. When the warmth subsides, I know I'm composed enough to either rebut or to acknowledge the comments. I'm trying to be different, trying to be a non-typical typical Malay.
I also do not suck up, kiss-ass or throw unintended praises.
Again, my positive attitude is a no-no for the Malays. If you don't suck up, you don't get to go up. If you don't agree, you don't get to see that extra bonus in your payslip. It sucks BIG time!
But what frustrates me most is that the leader of the suck-up pact is the newly appointed second highest person in the organization. A man so desperate to get votes (I never know I starred in American Idol all these while...) he'd stop at nothing. He'd come up with the wierdest of reasons for not approving a sports event - when in actual fact, I'd say to win support and to get to know your subordinates is from minggling with them outside of the office hours. These would be the time when true personalities come out. He'd give a mind-boggling reason for not approving anything - like, the PM training I requested for myself is "too deep" for me! Maybe I should request for a clerical training instead????
OK... OK... I admit. That's what the whole anger is about... My training was labelled as "too deep" for me. Like, duuhhhh!!! He must think that taking MBA classes put him levels higher than the rest of us! The thing here is class, man! If you ain't got class, you ain't got it at all! Huh, there goes... in split second my intonation changes.
Taking deep breath now... Cooling down... I'm fasting... from my anger...
So here I am, swallowing my pride and keeping quiet. He can think I'm shallow - he who thinks others are shallow is shallower than the shallowest stream. He can think I'm obliging - he will see a master rebel in the making. He can downgrade, humiliate, underestimate. But he can never get one thing from me ever - R.E.S.P.E.C.T. (even if I am the shallowest, tiniest, most insignificant being on earth).
"Too deep"... asshole...
(susah betul nak sabar ni....)
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Nauseated...
I can't help but feel sick over the game the politicians in Perak are playing. Do they think that we the rakyats are that dumb? Let the high court decide and suddenly appeal and get to rule the state again?
I mean, like... can't they just accept the ruling? Why bother to appeal? And why say things that nauseate people? It's just simply sickening!
And I thought the mastermind is behind all these? Where is the mastermind? I thought he commented negatively yesterday... why is he quiet today?
I was hoping that Najib doesn't do much of things like his recent predecessor, but I hoped too soon. I should have known that anything from the same mould would come out the same shape. Fruits from the same tree taste the same...
It's like having no air to breathe now... suffocating... nauseating... disgusting!
But to top it all - humiliating!
:P
I mean, like... can't they just accept the ruling? Why bother to appeal? And why say things that nauseate people? It's just simply sickening!
And I thought the mastermind is behind all these? Where is the mastermind? I thought he commented negatively yesterday... why is he quiet today?
I was hoping that Najib doesn't do much of things like his recent predecessor, but I hoped too soon. I should have known that anything from the same mould would come out the same shape. Fruits from the same tree taste the same...
It's like having no air to breathe now... suffocating... nauseating... disgusting!
But to top it all - humiliating!
:P
Monday, May 11, 2009
Yet Another Half An Hour
Just like the past few working days, this morning I stared blankly into the wardrobe. Amidst the hanging blouses, shirts and what-nots, I couldn't decide on anything to wear to work today. Not enough with flipping thru my mental catalogue of possible outfit, I flipped thru each and every one slowly allowing my fingers to feel the material.
"Nope." With a sigh, I walked out of the room leaving the wardrobe door open wide.
I opened the closet where I keep all my baju kurungs. Again, mental catalogue against actual look and feel. Why oh why has it come to this? It's so difficult to decide on what to wear! Maybe I should train for a six-pack so that I don't get too embarrassed if I decide to go to the office with bikini top and a piece of sarong. :P
The torture of making the simplest of decisions.
When I finally walked out of the house, I was greeted by Auntie K.
Auntie K: Why so late?
Me: Didn't know what to wear.
Auntie K: Who?
Me: Me.
Auntie K: Why, where are you going?
Me: Nowhere, just the office. (By now I already have a shameful smirk on me.)
Auntie K: That's why!
Hahahhahahahahhaha.... Oh well, I'm so going to miss your witty responses, Auntie K! But only if you know tough a decision it was to even pick this simple red baju kurung.
Maybe I need a wardrobe change. Maybe I need a new zest. Maybe I need to not pick what to wear to work. Maybe I don't need to work... :P
Oh well.
"Nope." With a sigh, I walked out of the room leaving the wardrobe door open wide.
I opened the closet where I keep all my baju kurungs. Again, mental catalogue against actual look and feel. Why oh why has it come to this? It's so difficult to decide on what to wear! Maybe I should train for a six-pack so that I don't get too embarrassed if I decide to go to the office with bikini top and a piece of sarong. :P
The torture of making the simplest of decisions.
When I finally walked out of the house, I was greeted by Auntie K.
Auntie K: Why so late?
Me: Didn't know what to wear.
Auntie K: Who?
Me: Me.
Auntie K: Why, where are you going?
Me: Nowhere, just the office. (By now I already have a shameful smirk on me.)
Auntie K: That's why!
Hahahhahahahahhaha.... Oh well, I'm so going to miss your witty responses, Auntie K! But only if you know tough a decision it was to even pick this simple red baju kurung.
Maybe I need a wardrobe change. Maybe I need a new zest. Maybe I need to not pick what to wear to work. Maybe I don't need to work... :P
Oh well.
Happy Mother's Day!
Did I tell you that I grew up rebellious?
Well, actually in my standard, I was. Until I discovered what other rebellious activities kids my age then had been doing. But that's beside the point.
Anyway, I was always one who wasn't very happy with my mom. She had been a full time housewife and was able to monitor me 24/7. Unlike most girls in my class then, I was to come home on time and had difficult times convincing her that I had to stay back for extra-curricular activities in school. Yes, they really were extra-curricular activities! Boys were out of reach for me then. Since I only preferred boys from one particular school, my controlled social life didn't help much in knowing boys other than those I got to meet during Interact Club installations. :P
When I got into college, it was a new-found freedom. I managed to escape nags, only to get some when I come back for holidays. Still I wanted to stay away from my mom as much as possible; I felt like I was always picked on by her (but there was only 2 of us, so it was either my sister or me....).
More freedom soon after.Life in the States cum getting married albeit a very young age. My mom was a distant figure I still wanted to run away from.
Came back to motherland, started my own family and became a mother myself. Still had that love-hate relationship with her. Probably it wasn't a one-sided feeling. I now think she too had a difficult time dealing with a daughter gone too soon.
But the whole love-hate relationship changed in 2001. And that fateful day is etched on my memory like ancient paintings on old cave walls.
It was Sofya's funeral. I remember my mom was sitting on the stairs of my grandmother's split level kampung house. She had tears in her eyes. When she felt my presence, she looked up and said "Sampai hati tak bagitau Sofya dah tak de." At that moment I realized, that my mom had been sharing my burden of pain without me even knowing it. She was feeling my pain, when I thought I was all alone. She suffered, because I, her daughter, was suffering. Then, and only then, I realized, that my mom loves me.
It took me to lose a child to realize that my mother has all the love for me. It took me pain upon pain to understand that no matter how far I ran or how much I tried to disassociate myself from her, she will always be my mother. It doesn't matter how much pain I caused her, or how much anger I created, she'll always be the one woman who'd be by my side supporting me without even me having to ask. It doesn't matter how many tears have fallen on her cheeks just because I hurt her by not being home often enough, or how lonely she feels because her granddaughters weren't around long enough, she'll always be the one ever willing to take me in suitcases and all.
But it's a pity that through all these, I still am not able to tell her how much I love her or how much I need her to be around through the thins of my life. It's sad that I don't feel my gestures come out loving enough, or that I've been around enough, to tell her that she has been the one person who contributed most to who I am today.
She has been my rock, well, half-rock (but I'll talk of the other half rock on Father's Day. :D)
I wish it was easier for me to say this in person - I love you, Ma! Thank you for being there for me through the worst times of my life, for praying for me and having faith in me when I have no faith left in myself. Thank you for being the stubborn person that you are, because I think I am just as hard-headed and being hard-headed has made me a stronger person to endure all kinds of weather. Thank you for being silent when silence is the best piece of advice you can give me. Thank you for nagging me even when I thought being 30-something would elude me from feeling like a kid being scolded. Thank you for waking me up every schooling day, for I can never wish for any other voice to wake up to in the darkest hour. Thank you, Ma, for just being there...
I so love you...
Happy Mother's Day...
:'(
Well, actually in my standard, I was. Until I discovered what other rebellious activities kids my age then had been doing. But that's beside the point.
Anyway, I was always one who wasn't very happy with my mom. She had been a full time housewife and was able to monitor me 24/7. Unlike most girls in my class then, I was to come home on time and had difficult times convincing her that I had to stay back for extra-curricular activities in school. Yes, they really were extra-curricular activities! Boys were out of reach for me then. Since I only preferred boys from one particular school, my controlled social life didn't help much in knowing boys other than those I got to meet during Interact Club installations. :P
When I got into college, it was a new-found freedom. I managed to escape nags, only to get some when I come back for holidays. Still I wanted to stay away from my mom as much as possible; I felt like I was always picked on by her (but there was only 2 of us, so it was either my sister or me....).
More freedom soon after.Life in the States cum getting married albeit a very young age. My mom was a distant figure I still wanted to run away from.
Came back to motherland, started my own family and became a mother myself. Still had that love-hate relationship with her. Probably it wasn't a one-sided feeling. I now think she too had a difficult time dealing with a daughter gone too soon.
But the whole love-hate relationship changed in 2001. And that fateful day is etched on my memory like ancient paintings on old cave walls.
It was Sofya's funeral. I remember my mom was sitting on the stairs of my grandmother's split level kampung house. She had tears in her eyes. When she felt my presence, she looked up and said "Sampai hati tak bagitau Sofya dah tak de." At that moment I realized, that my mom had been sharing my burden of pain without me even knowing it. She was feeling my pain, when I thought I was all alone. She suffered, because I, her daughter, was suffering. Then, and only then, I realized, that my mom loves me.
It took me to lose a child to realize that my mother has all the love for me. It took me pain upon pain to understand that no matter how far I ran or how much I tried to disassociate myself from her, she will always be my mother. It doesn't matter how much pain I caused her, or how much anger I created, she'll always be the one woman who'd be by my side supporting me without even me having to ask. It doesn't matter how many tears have fallen on her cheeks just because I hurt her by not being home often enough, or how lonely she feels because her granddaughters weren't around long enough, she'll always be the one ever willing to take me in suitcases and all.
But it's a pity that through all these, I still am not able to tell her how much I love her or how much I need her to be around through the thins of my life. It's sad that I don't feel my gestures come out loving enough, or that I've been around enough, to tell her that she has been the one person who contributed most to who I am today.
She has been my rock, well, half-rock (but I'll talk of the other half rock on Father's Day. :D)
I wish it was easier for me to say this in person - I love you, Ma! Thank you for being there for me through the worst times of my life, for praying for me and having faith in me when I have no faith left in myself. Thank you for being the stubborn person that you are, because I think I am just as hard-headed and being hard-headed has made me a stronger person to endure all kinds of weather. Thank you for being silent when silence is the best piece of advice you can give me. Thank you for nagging me even when I thought being 30-something would elude me from feeling like a kid being scolded. Thank you for waking me up every schooling day, for I can never wish for any other voice to wake up to in the darkest hour. Thank you, Ma, for just being there...
I so love you...
Happy Mother's Day...
:'(
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Home Sweet Home
I was pleasantly surprised to find Uncle B standing on my front porch, all perched up by the wall dividing our porch with Uncle L's, deeply engrossed in discussion with Uncle L. I politely smiled, got into Blue and quietly started the engine. They didn't bat an eyelid at me.
When I reached home 5 minutes later, they were still there.
And they were talking about politics - specifically PAS and UMNO.
During the last general election, I had the impression that Uncle L is a loyal MCA supporter. I never spoke of politics with Uncle B, but now I am under the impression that he is a staunch supporter of PAS.
And here I am, right smack in between, with a Malaysian flag hanging from my house grille 24/7 365. No political affiliation, yet a radical commentator of the political situation.
But not until lately. Honestly, I purposely stayed off any political news of late. They either nauseate me, make me sleepy or make me want to start my engine and go hit the politicians' heads. I believe the nausea started around the time when UMNO was to pick their candidates for the new helm. The pictures, the backstabbing statements, the revealing information (or so-called), they all made my head spin worse than migrain!
Then came the actual convention. Splashes of UMNO reds were all over the newspapers; at first I felt that it was the Lunar New Year, but when the red lasted for nearly a week I realized it wasn't the Lunar New Year, but it was the Circus Convention. More pictures, more backstabbing statements, more uncalled-for advises... what an affair!
When the whole thing ended with Najib finally walking to his throne, I was already too numb to comment or to even feel dizzy. I was zombied. But then, like a zombie crucified and turned into an immortal, I was awakened by a front page picture. THE picture. It made me laugh because it made it all too obvious. That life in politics are all scripted, planned and orchestrated.
Which picture you ask me?
When I reached home 5 minutes later, they were still there.
And they were talking about politics - specifically PAS and UMNO.
During the last general election, I had the impression that Uncle L is a loyal MCA supporter. I never spoke of politics with Uncle B, but now I am under the impression that he is a staunch supporter of PAS.
And here I am, right smack in between, with a Malaysian flag hanging from my house grille 24/7 365. No political affiliation, yet a radical commentator of the political situation.
But not until lately. Honestly, I purposely stayed off any political news of late. They either nauseate me, make me sleepy or make me want to start my engine and go hit the politicians' heads. I believe the nausea started around the time when UMNO was to pick their candidates for the new helm. The pictures, the backstabbing statements, the revealing information (or so-called), they all made my head spin worse than migrain!
Then came the actual convention. Splashes of UMNO reds were all over the newspapers; at first I felt that it was the Lunar New Year, but when the red lasted for nearly a week I realized it wasn't the Lunar New Year, but it was the Circus Convention. More pictures, more backstabbing statements, more uncalled-for advises... what an affair!
When the whole thing ended with Najib finally walking to his throne, I was already too numb to comment or to even feel dizzy. I was zombied. But then, like a zombie crucified and turned into an immortal, I was awakened by a front page picture. THE picture. It made me laugh because it made it all too obvious. That life in politics are all scripted, planned and orchestrated.
Which picture you ask me?
* Picture courtesy of NST.
Need I say more?
:P
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