Tonight a friend lost his mother. Not that he is a close friend such that his loss affects me, but the fact that life is so fragile makes me want to stop time and pray that I will not have to go through that sad stage of life.
You see, I have lost a child before. But that is different. As much as you love a being that had grown inside you for nine months, losing a child is not close to being as devastating as losing a parent.
Losing a child is like the whole world fall on you; losing a parent is like being swallowed whole by the world.
I can never imagine that happening to me. And if I can ask for it, I do not want to have to go through it ever.
My parents have been the pillars of my life. My main support team, my cheering team, my let-me-pull-you-back-on-track team, my you-know-we-are-always-here-for-you team. Time and again, I remind myself of how much love they have given me despite me being the hard-headed, stubborn first born. Day after day, I tell myself that I have never paid them enough for the love and encouragement that they have showered me with. There have been days that I hit myself for not giving them enough attention as compared to the amount of attention they gave me while I was growing up. It's as if I am repaying them with a pail of love when what they have been giving me surmount to the vastness of a sea...
And I am engulfed in this guilt that I do not know how to get out of.
Just the other day, my mother iterated a story of an uncle who is now slightly impaired due to a mild stroke he suffered some time ago. The incident was a funny one, and we chuckled at it. But as I was chuckling, a hard tug was pulling at my heart incessantly. I was laughing but I felt pain. Because at the back of my head, I remember how loving that uncle was, how he would call me and gave me a hug and asked me how my day was and what I learnt at school. I remembered his face when he was younger, how his face lit up when he was happy, and darkened when he was angered. I remember how much he loves the sea, fish and fishing. I remember how much he loves his fishing rods and nets. I remember how he was labelled the inseparable twin of my father by their colleagues, because they would travel to and fro the office together. If ayah had to go on emergency leave, one could be so sure that Pak Itam would not be in his office either. But now all I can think of Pak Itam is of how much he is dependable on Mak Itam, a man of strength and opinion is now toned down and is sometimes at loss. As much as I am not ready to lose my parents, I am not ready to lose any of my uncles and aunties. I have not told them of how much I love them and how they have been the moral support that I need in my life.
But I have to face it - that life is fragile... If only I can start somewhere...
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Saturday, October 23, 2010
The Darkest Hour is Just Before The Dawn...
It's October and for the last few days, I have been looking back and reflecting on things that have been happening in my life.
Too many things. Most of them involved if not emotional, financial. A pessimist me would describe the first 7 months of 2010 as the worst days of my life. A negative me would label it as the time when the whole world crumbled down, hit me, hurt me, bruised me and not one piece escaped me. It was like hailstorm day and night.
I have to admit that there were many times then that I regretted my decision to leave the job that I loved, the job that I toiled for and the one thing that gave me some sense of belonging and independence. I would beat myself up with blames, often feeling that life had no meaning any more. The blaming got worse every time the phone rang and I just knew that it was from the banks pushing for lapse instalments and payments. The emotions were sometimes unbearable. When they were, I would wheedle myself that everything would one day be fine again.
Life was for me at that moment bleak, sullen, mournful, resentful. Time and again, I would console myself that things happen for a reason. But more often than not, I would question back if there was any reason for my own doings. It was my decision and I had to pay for it. It came to a point that I found it dreadful to meet up with ex-colleagues, shy-ed away from even a note of 'Hi' from friends. Despite trying to appear happy, I was dragged deeper into my own black hole.
It was in early June that I really gasp for air. I was drained emotionally. I was strained financially. I finally became the bitter woman some claimed I was some years ago. Nothing helped, not even the solace of brisk walking for close to 5 kms everyday nor the lone time praying and talking to Him from the top of Melawati hill. During those bleak days, I thought that was how life would be for me for the rest of my breathing days.
Then, as how those old saying goes "the darkest hour is just before the dawn", things started to pick up slowly but surely. I finally signed my first employment offer letter in 9 years. 2 weeks after that, another offer popped up. The darkness broke and I started to see light. Very dim, but there was light nonetheless.
It was not until the last weeks or so that I realized, that really, everything did happen for a reason.
I did not realize then, that the 6 months I was down and out, was the 6 months that had me live my potential. Without me realizing, trying to keep my sanity had me do things that I wanted to but had no time to commit because I had to keep a full-time job and trying to please everyone but myself.
I did not realize that in the last 6 months, I have achieved more than I ever had in 35 years!
It was during those bleak days when my first writing was printed in one of the national daily. It may be my one and only, but at least I had a one. I realized that it was the best gift I could ever give ayah, and now the only piece that I have is framed and hanged on his wall. I can never forget for the rest of my life, how speechless he was when I showed him the piece, and how he tried to hide his croaking voice after he read it.
It was during those sullen moments when I volunteered for one running event which lead me to another, that lead me to another and another. Now, I have a permanent voluntary role with one of the organizers, and I am not doing it for the monetary reward but for the fun and satisfaction that nothing else gives.
It was during those mournful hours that I was offered a shot at television commercial acting. For one day in my life, I experienced being a 'star'. It may never come again the next 36 years, but at least it came once and it came at the right time. It came at the time I needed a picker-upper and an esteem booster. And nothing beats seeing my girls laughing happily every time they see me on tv. :)
But the blessing of all blessings that I have overlooked the last many months was, that it was during those resentful days, a kind heart of a beautiful friend held my hand and showed me that I have gone too far astray and lead me back to Him. That kind heart showed me that despite anything and everything, I still have Him to turn to and that I should never give up on Him. Through a 3-day training, I put aside my resentment, my anger, my sadness, my bitterness to realize that I have neglected my faith since the day Sofya passed away.
Now time and time again, I reminded myself that I have been blessed, that my decision to quit the job that I thought I loved was for a reason, that everything that happened during those bleak, sullen, mournful and resentful time of my life was for a reason. Everything, every one of them. Every one.
Little that I know that I would again hand in a resignation letter, just after 2 months of signing the acceptance. Although I was enjoying the new job, I could not find it in me to be passionate about it. Although I made new friends and acquaintances, I longed to be myself again and doing things that I know best. I was the old dog that couldn't be taught new tricks.
But this time, I remember to count my blessings.
And I really have been blessed.
The part time job that I took up since have never seen enough of me. I have never been this worked up before; I have never felt that I needed more than my 2 hands can deliver. And once again, I feel the sense of satisfaction I thought I lost. And as though blessings can never stop coming, the job offer that I was dreaming for came a moment sooner than I expected. It was like a reward when I have been enjoying rewards. It was like rays of sun when I am already enjoying the rainbow.
And only now I know, after seeing how beautiful is the rainbow and how magnificent is the ray, the reason that I was put through the heavy hailstorm. And why the darkest hour is just before the dawn...
:)
Too many things. Most of them involved if not emotional, financial. A pessimist me would describe the first 7 months of 2010 as the worst days of my life. A negative me would label it as the time when the whole world crumbled down, hit me, hurt me, bruised me and not one piece escaped me. It was like hailstorm day and night.
I have to admit that there were many times then that I regretted my decision to leave the job that I loved, the job that I toiled for and the one thing that gave me some sense of belonging and independence. I would beat myself up with blames, often feeling that life had no meaning any more. The blaming got worse every time the phone rang and I just knew that it was from the banks pushing for lapse instalments and payments. The emotions were sometimes unbearable. When they were, I would wheedle myself that everything would one day be fine again.
Life was for me at that moment bleak, sullen, mournful, resentful. Time and again, I would console myself that things happen for a reason. But more often than not, I would question back if there was any reason for my own doings. It was my decision and I had to pay for it. It came to a point that I found it dreadful to meet up with ex-colleagues, shy-ed away from even a note of 'Hi' from friends. Despite trying to appear happy, I was dragged deeper into my own black hole.
It was in early June that I really gasp for air. I was drained emotionally. I was strained financially. I finally became the bitter woman some claimed I was some years ago. Nothing helped, not even the solace of brisk walking for close to 5 kms everyday nor the lone time praying and talking to Him from the top of Melawati hill. During those bleak days, I thought that was how life would be for me for the rest of my breathing days.
Then, as how those old saying goes "the darkest hour is just before the dawn", things started to pick up slowly but surely. I finally signed my first employment offer letter in 9 years. 2 weeks after that, another offer popped up. The darkness broke and I started to see light. Very dim, but there was light nonetheless.
It was not until the last weeks or so that I realized, that really, everything did happen for a reason.
I did not realize then, that the 6 months I was down and out, was the 6 months that had me live my potential. Without me realizing, trying to keep my sanity had me do things that I wanted to but had no time to commit because I had to keep a full-time job and trying to please everyone but myself.
I did not realize that in the last 6 months, I have achieved more than I ever had in 35 years!
It was during those bleak days when my first writing was printed in one of the national daily. It may be my one and only, but at least I had a one. I realized that it was the best gift I could ever give ayah, and now the only piece that I have is framed and hanged on his wall. I can never forget for the rest of my life, how speechless he was when I showed him the piece, and how he tried to hide his croaking voice after he read it.
It was during those sullen moments when I volunteered for one running event which lead me to another, that lead me to another and another. Now, I have a permanent voluntary role with one of the organizers, and I am not doing it for the monetary reward but for the fun and satisfaction that nothing else gives.
It was during those mournful hours that I was offered a shot at television commercial acting. For one day in my life, I experienced being a 'star'. It may never come again the next 36 years, but at least it came once and it came at the right time. It came at the time I needed a picker-upper and an esteem booster. And nothing beats seeing my girls laughing happily every time they see me on tv. :)
But the blessing of all blessings that I have overlooked the last many months was, that it was during those resentful days, a kind heart of a beautiful friend held my hand and showed me that I have gone too far astray and lead me back to Him. That kind heart showed me that despite anything and everything, I still have Him to turn to and that I should never give up on Him. Through a 3-day training, I put aside my resentment, my anger, my sadness, my bitterness to realize that I have neglected my faith since the day Sofya passed away.
Now time and time again, I reminded myself that I have been blessed, that my decision to quit the job that I thought I loved was for a reason, that everything that happened during those bleak, sullen, mournful and resentful time of my life was for a reason. Everything, every one of them. Every one.
Little that I know that I would again hand in a resignation letter, just after 2 months of signing the acceptance. Although I was enjoying the new job, I could not find it in me to be passionate about it. Although I made new friends and acquaintances, I longed to be myself again and doing things that I know best. I was the old dog that couldn't be taught new tricks.
But this time, I remember to count my blessings.
And I really have been blessed.
The part time job that I took up since have never seen enough of me. I have never been this worked up before; I have never felt that I needed more than my 2 hands can deliver. And once again, I feel the sense of satisfaction I thought I lost. And as though blessings can never stop coming, the job offer that I was dreaming for came a moment sooner than I expected. It was like a reward when I have been enjoying rewards. It was like rays of sun when I am already enjoying the rainbow.
And only now I know, after seeing how beautiful is the rainbow and how magnificent is the ray, the reason that I was put through the heavy hailstorm. And why the darkest hour is just before the dawn...
:)
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
A Conversation with a 6-year old
Me: Esok Ya cakaplah kat Teacher Ayu 'Teacher Ayu, semalam saya tak datang sebab saya bangun lambat.'
Ya: Taaakkk... Ya cakap camni 'Teacher Ayu, semalam saya tak datang sebab mak saya tak bangunkan saya.'
Me: *Eyeballs rolling*
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Paths Intertwined...
I was waiting for the elevator when a familiar face joined the wait. I could not make out when or where I had seen him before. I kept stealing a glance at him, trying to remember. My memory went as far as a decade back. But it did not click what was it that I encountered this man. All I know was that it had been a while since I last interacted with him.
You have to agree with me that life has got it's own funny way of intertwining the path of strangers. Even until now, I am intrigued at the fact that some people I got to know in my life knew each other at a different time. For example, Kak H, whom I got to know at my short stint in a particular university, happens to be a pet sister of M whom I knew back when I was in a preparatory program. It surprised me to know that Kak H also knows S, who is also a friend I knew at the same program. Kak H and S seemed to have worked together after coming back from the States.
And this is not the only example that intrigues me.
One night I was chatting with a friend who was tracing her past flames through the net. She found one, and he had the pictures of his family posted on one of the social networking sites. She told me that his wife looked very familiar to her. Being the kay poh chee that I am, plus I would like to see the face that devastated my friend's heart once upon a time ago, I asked her to share me the link to the photo. The next thing I knew, I was laughing so hard that I almost gasp for air... Apparently, her past flame married someone I know, and I was at their function a week before!
Such is the web of our paths, crossing one another for no reasons we can comprehend.
I also know of a man who fell in love with his classmate, to whom he never even said 'hi' before, 18 years after they left school. They both led different lives, had separate experiences and out of nowhere not only found each other, but also found love. Amazing, isn't it?
:)
Which reminds me of a friend's Facebook status. Ila wrote: 'Love at first sight is easy to understand; it's when two people have been looking for each other a lifetime that it becomes a miracle!'
Sweet, ain't it?
Owh, by the way, that guy I saw at the elevator... well, he was the panel doctor for the company that I worked with before. I finally remembered while driving home. :D
You have to agree with me that life has got it's own funny way of intertwining the path of strangers. Even until now, I am intrigued at the fact that some people I got to know in my life knew each other at a different time. For example, Kak H, whom I got to know at my short stint in a particular university, happens to be a pet sister of M whom I knew back when I was in a preparatory program. It surprised me to know that Kak H also knows S, who is also a friend I knew at the same program. Kak H and S seemed to have worked together after coming back from the States.
And this is not the only example that intrigues me.
One night I was chatting with a friend who was tracing her past flames through the net. She found one, and he had the pictures of his family posted on one of the social networking sites. She told me that his wife looked very familiar to her. Being the kay poh chee that I am, plus I would like to see the face that devastated my friend's heart once upon a time ago, I asked her to share me the link to the photo. The next thing I knew, I was laughing so hard that I almost gasp for air... Apparently, her past flame married someone I know, and I was at their function a week before!
Such is the web of our paths, crossing one another for no reasons we can comprehend.
I also know of a man who fell in love with his classmate, to whom he never even said 'hi' before, 18 years after they left school. They both led different lives, had separate experiences and out of nowhere not only found each other, but also found love. Amazing, isn't it?
:)
Which reminds me of a friend's Facebook status. Ila wrote: 'Love at first sight is easy to understand; it's when two people have been looking for each other a lifetime that it becomes a miracle!'
Sweet, ain't it?
Owh, by the way, that guy I saw at the elevator... well, he was the panel doctor for the company that I worked with before. I finally remembered while driving home. :D
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
So I was Asked...
I was posed with this question just now, which made me chuckle a moment and stumped the next.
The question was "aina ni kerja byk2 job ke?"
I chuckled because at the back of my head, I had flashes of all the fun things that I have been indulging myself into since late June - the excessive volunteering, the commercial shooting, the job hunting, the contemplating of which job to take, the job hunting again. It is like my body has gone on overdrive and it can't be shifted down.
But those thoughts made me realize that going on overdrive for a stretch of time is not the wisest thing to do, regardless of age. Young or old, a body needs rest when a body needs rest. I guess that was what mine was trying to tell me. 6 weekends of driving up and down and running around while sandwiched between working days that start as early as 6 am can really dehydrate the engine oil of a car, what's more a human body. :)
Then the chuckle stopped, and I started thinking.
I started thinking that I must be running for something, or from something, that made me on this gear for a thad too long. Am I becoming greedy that I just want to be out there doing my volunteering all the time, while fitting in my dream of becoming a commercial star, at the same time juggling time to compile the book manuscript that is now long overdue to the dear publisher? Not to mention the part-time 'serious' work I have agreed to undertake in my so-called-free-but-does-seem-like-limited-now time.
And that sort of worries me of what I am becoming. A Jane of all trade? But a Jane of all trade is a master of nothing. But I want to be a master of everything. So how now? Do I press the slow-down button, or do I keep on the threadmill? Owh, talk of which, trying to keep a normal BMI is also in the daily to-do list.
So now the chuckle has turned into grims. Which I don't like, so I shrugged off the grims and decided, 'for as long that I am happy doing whatever that I am doing now, then I will keep on doing them for the sake of my happiness, fulfillment and satisfaction. If I find that I am no longer happy doing what I was happy doing, I can just press the stop button without having to come up with reasons.'
I guess the question was answered.
:D
The question was "aina ni kerja byk2 job ke?"
I chuckled because at the back of my head, I had flashes of all the fun things that I have been indulging myself into since late June - the excessive volunteering, the commercial shooting, the job hunting, the contemplating of which job to take, the job hunting again. It is like my body has gone on overdrive and it can't be shifted down.
But those thoughts made me realize that going on overdrive for a stretch of time is not the wisest thing to do, regardless of age. Young or old, a body needs rest when a body needs rest. I guess that was what mine was trying to tell me. 6 weekends of driving up and down and running around while sandwiched between working days that start as early as 6 am can really dehydrate the engine oil of a car, what's more a human body. :)
Then the chuckle stopped, and I started thinking.
I started thinking that I must be running for something, or from something, that made me on this gear for a thad too long. Am I becoming greedy that I just want to be out there doing my volunteering all the time, while fitting in my dream of becoming a commercial star, at the same time juggling time to compile the book manuscript that is now long overdue to the dear publisher? Not to mention the part-time 'serious' work I have agreed to undertake in my so-called-free-but-does-seem-like-limited-now time.
And that sort of worries me of what I am becoming. A Jane of all trade? But a Jane of all trade is a master of nothing. But I want to be a master of everything. So how now? Do I press the slow-down button, or do I keep on the threadmill? Owh, talk of which, trying to keep a normal BMI is also in the daily to-do list.
So now the chuckle has turned into grims. Which I don't like, so I shrugged off the grims and decided, 'for as long that I am happy doing whatever that I am doing now, then I will keep on doing them for the sake of my happiness, fulfillment and satisfaction. If I find that I am no longer happy doing what I was happy doing, I can just press the stop button without having to come up with reasons.'
I guess the question was answered.
:D
Friday, July 30, 2010
Blowing Off Some Steam - Part 1
I think I have not written anything serious (read: political) for quite a while now. But I feel compelled to blow off some steam over a chat I had with someone this morning.
I have known this man for some time already. From the very beginning, I knew that he was not happy with the existence of UMNO and its agenda. Back then, I wasn't interested in arguing with him, plus the fact that I had no interest in the matter myself. Everytime he sent me chat through Yahoo Messenger, he'd ask me what's with the Malays.
No offence, but I try not to be the typical Malay. And he knew that. Most time those days, I'd shrug him off.
But this morning, he must have had a bad one. He was going on and on about the racial issues, the country, UMNO and the stupid and stagnant political situation. I was holding my patience. Honestly, I felt like hitting it back on his face. But instead, I went "hahahaha" and "hehehhe" for the most part. Either he thought I was encouraging him, or he had a thick skin... ramped right past those without even asking me how I felt about the whole situation.
You see, he is currently staying in the neighboring country down south. For the most part, I am sure his source of news would be the media - both printed and online. His frequent trips back into motherland are often short and more than I can imagine, would always get him into the horrendous jams and hideous acts of kay-elites.
So when he went on and on non-stop complaining and condemning the country, I composed myself and thought of the best way to shut him up.
"Since you are in SG, live life, enjoy it there, and maybe some day give up your citizenship", I said.
"It's in the pipeline", he replied.
It was adamant that my diplomatic skill is truely unpolished.
"Life is great, right?" I added.
"Well, life in SG in like shit. But sure smells better than in MY" he said.
Such sour grape bugger. All I felt at that moment was to stranggle and kill him. Not because I am protective of my country, his country, but because people like him are the ones who will halt the mentality of the people. People like him are the ones who will badmouth the nation and create biased views onto others. People like him will torment people like me who try to move forward and create a better nation for the children. People like him will condemn the past till their dying breath and yet never realized that after giving up their citizenship, they have no rights to harp or whine about this country anymore.
Not that we Malaysians don't whine. We do. We have every reason to. The economy, the politics, the lunacy of the policies, the rising cost of living. Almost everything under the sun. But life in Malaysia does not evolve mostly around these - we have family, we have personal issues, we have anything else that comprises the other 50% of our lives that we ought to be grateful for being a Malaysian. And the whining and complaining come like advertisements in between takes and scenes in a television drama episode. We Malaysians are trying to live, in the best way we know how.
It's because we Malaysians staying in Malaysia know that by hook or by crook, we still have to face today and the next. We know that we have a choice, to stay in the country or not. We have the choice to tolerate or to rebel. And we know that despite the stupidity of the political scenes, we rakyat are not as dumb.
So to that acquaintance of mine, I hope you find inner peace. Give up your citizenship. Move away from this region. Go praise other countries, but please leave me and the rest of the Malaysians alone and away from your negativities. Negativities kill, we Malaysians still want to live.
*But believe me I am not done.*
I have known this man for some time already. From the very beginning, I knew that he was not happy with the existence of UMNO and its agenda. Back then, I wasn't interested in arguing with him, plus the fact that I had no interest in the matter myself. Everytime he sent me chat through Yahoo Messenger, he'd ask me what's with the Malays.
No offence, but I try not to be the typical Malay. And he knew that. Most time those days, I'd shrug him off.
But this morning, he must have had a bad one. He was going on and on about the racial issues, the country, UMNO and the stupid and stagnant political situation. I was holding my patience. Honestly, I felt like hitting it back on his face. But instead, I went "hahahaha" and "hehehhe" for the most part. Either he thought I was encouraging him, or he had a thick skin... ramped right past those without even asking me how I felt about the whole situation.
You see, he is currently staying in the neighboring country down south. For the most part, I am sure his source of news would be the media - both printed and online. His frequent trips back into motherland are often short and more than I can imagine, would always get him into the horrendous jams and hideous acts of kay-elites.
So when he went on and on non-stop complaining and condemning the country, I composed myself and thought of the best way to shut him up.
"Since you are in SG, live life, enjoy it there, and maybe some day give up your citizenship", I said.
"It's in the pipeline", he replied.
It was adamant that my diplomatic skill is truely unpolished.
"Life is great, right?" I added.
"Well, life in SG in like shit. But sure smells better than in MY" he said.
Such sour grape bugger. All I felt at that moment was to stranggle and kill him. Not because I am protective of my country, his country, but because people like him are the ones who will halt the mentality of the people. People like him are the ones who will badmouth the nation and create biased views onto others. People like him will torment people like me who try to move forward and create a better nation for the children. People like him will condemn the past till their dying breath and yet never realized that after giving up their citizenship, they have no rights to harp or whine about this country anymore.
Not that we Malaysians don't whine. We do. We have every reason to. The economy, the politics, the lunacy of the policies, the rising cost of living. Almost everything under the sun. But life in Malaysia does not evolve mostly around these - we have family, we have personal issues, we have anything else that comprises the other 50% of our lives that we ought to be grateful for being a Malaysian. And the whining and complaining come like advertisements in between takes and scenes in a television drama episode. We Malaysians are trying to live, in the best way we know how.
It's because we Malaysians staying in Malaysia know that by hook or by crook, we still have to face today and the next. We know that we have a choice, to stay in the country or not. We have the choice to tolerate or to rebel. And we know that despite the stupidity of the political scenes, we rakyat are not as dumb.
So to that acquaintance of mine, I hope you find inner peace. Give up your citizenship. Move away from this region. Go praise other countries, but please leave me and the rest of the Malaysians alone and away from your negativities. Negativities kill, we Malaysians still want to live.
*But believe me I am not done.*
Sunday, July 18, 2010
From My FB...
PEACE of mind,
LOVE in the heart,
HEALTH of the body and soul,
HAPPINESS in life...
there is always HOPE.
LOVE in the heart,
HEALTH of the body and soul,
HAPPINESS in life...
there is always HOPE.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
An Experience...
It was like a dream came true.
The moment I walked into the set, I was in disbelief. The set was cramped despite it occupying the whole of the ground floor of a government office. There were 3 cameras pointing to 2 headless mannequin. Wires were everywhere like slithering snakes and worms. The lighting was very bright. As I was briefed by the assistant producer, someone lifted my baju kurung from the back. I didn't move, as if already knowing that he was actually putting the sound equipment on me. I stretched out my hand in a scarecrow manner, and let him and his assistant do their job.
I was nervous to the max!
I knew I had my cool face on, but I was truly scared. I told myself, "You need to do this! You want to do more of this."
There were moments when I looked around and endulged in myself being the center of attention of some 20 sets of eyes. It was as if I was transformed into a small girl, playing princess in a make-believe castle. I saw each of their expressions; I returned their smiles. For those moments, I felt as if I lived for this.
I did about 20 takes of 4 different lines. I forgot my lines twice, but I made the crew laughed on my mistakes. Hey, even a seasoned talent forgot her lines! *winks*
The talents wrapped up at about 5:30pm, which made it a total of 6.5 hours of work on a Sunday. I didn't mind the wait one bit, for just a shot at television commercial stardom.
Even if this would be my one and only try, I will forever cherish the experience, the marvel and the fun.
The moment I walked into the set, I was in disbelief. The set was cramped despite it occupying the whole of the ground floor of a government office. There were 3 cameras pointing to 2 headless mannequin. Wires were everywhere like slithering snakes and worms. The lighting was very bright. As I was briefed by the assistant producer, someone lifted my baju kurung from the back. I didn't move, as if already knowing that he was actually putting the sound equipment on me. I stretched out my hand in a scarecrow manner, and let him and his assistant do their job.
I was nervous to the max!
I knew I had my cool face on, but I was truly scared. I told myself, "You need to do this! You want to do more of this."
There were moments when I looked around and endulged in myself being the center of attention of some 20 sets of eyes. It was as if I was transformed into a small girl, playing princess in a make-believe castle. I saw each of their expressions; I returned their smiles. For those moments, I felt as if I lived for this.
I did about 20 takes of 4 different lines. I forgot my lines twice, but I made the crew laughed on my mistakes. Hey, even a seasoned talent forgot her lines! *winks*
The talents wrapped up at about 5:30pm, which made it a total of 6.5 hours of work on a Sunday. I didn't mind the wait one bit, for just a shot at television commercial stardom.
Even if this would be my one and only try, I will forever cherish the experience, the marvel and the fun.
The Dynamo Girls
Sunday, June 20, 2010
My Wishlist...
Milly, a friend whom I know back in those days in college, did up a wish list of all the things that she would want to do and have while she's still alive.
She managed to stir up my thoughts on things that I would want to do before I kick the bucket myself. But somehow rather, some of them need me to have a stable income before I can even think and write them all down.
As you may know by now, I will again hit the rat race after 6 months of leisure. The idea of being financially independent again, even though this time the bring home cheque will be significantly lesser than what I last drawn, actually gives me hope that I will be able to achieve some if not all of my material wishes.
So here goes.
:)
She managed to stir up my thoughts on things that I would want to do before I kick the bucket myself. But somehow rather, some of them need me to have a stable income before I can even think and write them all down.
As you may know by now, I will again hit the rat race after 6 months of leisure. The idea of being financially independent again, even though this time the bring home cheque will be significantly lesser than what I last drawn, actually gives me hope that I will be able to achieve some if not all of my material wishes.
So here goes.
- Take up fencing.
- Maintain the daily walk or at least climb up Melawati hill every weekend.
- Have my name printed on a book.
- Try squash.
- A 1.0 carat diamond platinum ring.
- Be free of debts.
- Not the least, be a better muslimah in whatever way possible.
:)
Friday, June 11, 2010
And The Day Came...
As I was sitting in that room, I was in disbelief. In my hands were two copies of an offer letter, complete with my name and address.
They looked so crisp and immaculate. Too perfect to be true. I waited almost 6 months to be in this position, yet I am overwhelmed by fear and uncertainty. Fear of how I would bring myself; uncertain if this is what I really want despite my reasonings to myself.
Would I be able to handle serious work? Would I be able to live a life without events and fun stuff? Would I be able to be me again?
Questions upon questions came to my mind as I sat there in that room. Would I be able to deliver? Would I meet the expectations? Would I be technical enough to understand the processes?
But I do know that this is a blessing from Him. One way of telling me that there's always light at the end of the tunnel and that I can always make it through the rain. Only that I will have to be strong and patient and put in a lot of prayers.
I guess that's the answer to all my questions - pray and do my best. I hope I make it through..
They looked so crisp and immaculate. Too perfect to be true. I waited almost 6 months to be in this position, yet I am overwhelmed by fear and uncertainty. Fear of how I would bring myself; uncertain if this is what I really want despite my reasonings to myself.
Would I be able to handle serious work? Would I be able to live a life without events and fun stuff? Would I be able to be me again?
Questions upon questions came to my mind as I sat there in that room. Would I be able to deliver? Would I meet the expectations? Would I be technical enough to understand the processes?
But I do know that this is a blessing from Him. One way of telling me that there's always light at the end of the tunnel and that I can always make it through the rain. Only that I will have to be strong and patient and put in a lot of prayers.
I guess that's the answer to all my questions - pray and do my best. I hope I make it through..
Cucu Atok...
I know ayah must be very touched when this happened.
One evening, Schera went into the kitchen of her grandparents' home and tried to fix herself a plate of rice.
Right then, her atok walked in. She asked her atok if he wanted to eat with her.
Atok said yes.
Seeing that rice in the pot was only enough for one, Schera scooped every single grain into a plate, and put it in front of her atok who was seated at the table.
'Atok makan la dulu', she replied with a smile.
Baffled, atok peeked into the rice pot and saw an empty one.
When he told me what his granddaughter did, he was beaming. He was proud to say that his not yet 6 years old granddaughter had sacrificed for him.
I don't know what I did to deserve a beautiful child in my life.
When I lost Siti Ainin Sofya some 11 years ago, I never thought that He would replace her with a more beautiful child. He took away a child so pure, but He replaced with a child with much love in her.
I pray that she grows to spread love and gets back as much.
One evening, Schera went into the kitchen of her grandparents' home and tried to fix herself a plate of rice.
Right then, her atok walked in. She asked her atok if he wanted to eat with her.
Atok said yes.
Seeing that rice in the pot was only enough for one, Schera scooped every single grain into a plate, and put it in front of her atok who was seated at the table.
'Schera tak makan?', asked her atok.
Baffled, atok peeked into the rice pot and saw an empty one.
When he told me what his granddaughter did, he was beaming. He was proud to say that his not yet 6 years old granddaughter had sacrificed for him.
I don't know what I did to deserve a beautiful child in my life.
When I lost Siti Ainin Sofya some 11 years ago, I never thought that He would replace her with a more beautiful child. He took away a child so pure, but He replaced with a child with much love in her.
I pray that she grows to spread love and gets back as much.
Thursday, June 3, 2010
I Love You... I Sayang You
I had this interesting chat this afternoon - the topic evolved around the difference between love and sayang.
If someone says 'I love you', do you think it differs much to 'I sayang you'?
In more ways than one, we will usually say it's not the same. It's the connotation it brings when we say 'I love you' that makes us warm and fuzzy inside as opposed to the straightforward, unemotional 'I sayang you'.
Being the forever unsatiated arguer that I am, I looked up the definition of sayang and cinta from the Dewan Bahasa dan Pustaka website.
And I found (and I have abrreviated the explanation, of course):
Sayang: fond, like, having affection.
Cinta: love
I guess that explains. The warm and fuzzy feeling is not around when we shout out 'I like you' or 'I'm fond of you' or 'I have affections for you' as contrary to 'I LOVE YOU!'
Which makes me wonder. Why do we call the ones we love - boyfriends, girlfriends, husbands or wives as Sayang? Shouldn't we be calling out Cinta, instead? But that would be funny, wouldn't it?
*winks*
:)
If someone says 'I love you', do you think it differs much to 'I sayang you'?
In more ways than one, we will usually say it's not the same. It's the connotation it brings when we say 'I love you' that makes us warm and fuzzy inside as opposed to the straightforward, unemotional 'I sayang you'.
Being the forever unsatiated arguer that I am, I looked up the definition of sayang and cinta from the Dewan Bahasa dan Pustaka website.
And I found (and I have abrreviated the explanation, of course):
Sayang: fond, like, having affection.
Cinta: love
I guess that explains. The warm and fuzzy feeling is not around when we shout out 'I like you' or 'I'm fond of you' or 'I have affections for you' as contrary to 'I LOVE YOU!'
Which makes me wonder. Why do we call the ones we love - boyfriends, girlfriends, husbands or wives as Sayang? Shouldn't we be calling out Cinta, instead? But that would be funny, wouldn't it?
*winks*
:)
Saturday, May 29, 2010
Finally A Piece for Her...
She asked me to write about her once.
I asked her, "What can I write about you?" She said, "I dunno, you're the writer..."
That was almost a year ago. I brushed it off, and thought I'd never have anything to write about her or her life.
But today after being on the phone with her for an hour, thoughts upon thoughts came to me on the friendship that has lasted for several years.
We both started as colleagues thrown into a newly formed division. We never actually spoken to each other before other than times when we had teh tarik with others. My initial impression on her was that she was direct, opinionated and open. But hey, can I reserve that for any girls that came from an all-girls school? ;) Then I found out that she and I were the same age. And we shared the same level of thinking.
Circumstances made us closer - kids, life, work, views on anything under the sun. We escalated from being colleagues to close friends. We opened up and let each other into the most private of our lives, things we hardly share with a normal friend. We cried and rejoiced on the smallest of things; we laughed and sighed and we kept our silence through pains and hurts.
The thing about her is that she is not afraid to tell me off if she is against my decisions or actions. And she dares to put her reservations across. She would always challenge me and question me and there have been many times that she had me rethink. I know she wasn't happy with certain things that I went ahead with, but I know she always has my back if I screw up.
When she decided to quit her job, I knew all along that we would still be in each other's lives. Her being in Klang area is never a deterrance for a lunch date or a lengthy catch up session. Calls and chats and texts have never ceased since.
And every time we would pick up from where we left off, as if we never really left off in the first place.
I asked her, "What can I write about you?" She said, "I dunno, you're the writer..."
That was almost a year ago. I brushed it off, and thought I'd never have anything to write about her or her life.
But today after being on the phone with her for an hour, thoughts upon thoughts came to me on the friendship that has lasted for several years.
We both started as colleagues thrown into a newly formed division. We never actually spoken to each other before other than times when we had teh tarik with others. My initial impression on her was that she was direct, opinionated and open. But hey, can I reserve that for any girls that came from an all-girls school? ;) Then I found out that she and I were the same age. And we shared the same level of thinking.
Circumstances made us closer - kids, life, work, views on anything under the sun. We escalated from being colleagues to close friends. We opened up and let each other into the most private of our lives, things we hardly share with a normal friend. We cried and rejoiced on the smallest of things; we laughed and sighed and we kept our silence through pains and hurts.
The thing about her is that she is not afraid to tell me off if she is against my decisions or actions. And she dares to put her reservations across. She would always challenge me and question me and there have been many times that she had me rethink. I know she wasn't happy with certain things that I went ahead with, but I know she always has my back if I screw up.
When she decided to quit her job, I knew all along that we would still be in each other's lives. Her being in Klang area is never a deterrance for a lunch date or a lengthy catch up session. Calls and chats and texts have never ceased since.
And every time we would pick up from where we left off, as if we never really left off in the first place.
Beb, I know I have been blessed with many things in my life. And one of the blessings is you. Love you, beb!:)
Thursday, May 27, 2010
The One and Only...
It was really difficult at first when she came. Matter of fact, it was already difficult for me to accept her being around even before she was born.
Being an only child for 13 years, I was already used to having the whole house to myself.
And it was just right that I blamed her for me having to go through all these, right? :D
I think I only spent a total of 5 years staying under the same roof as her. I was elated to be taken out of the house to do my preparatory studies in Shah Alam. Occasional coming home would have me see her grown, yet never able to absorb her into my life.
I came back after 2 years from The States hauling a husband, and that made things even worse. I was closer to my friends and she was closer to hers. Conversations were short and awkward, hardly the same wavelength. But almost 2 years after that, I had my first born and that was when I came to know of my sister's affection for children, especially her niece. I can still recall how she would love to stroke her newborn niece's hair softly. She had this awe on her face everytime she did that. And a satisfied smile every time.
Years passed and the gap was closing but not progressive. There were days when we tried to strike a conversation and it ended just like that.
Had to do the same thing after she finished her matriculation. Bergolek on her bed trying to figure out where she should apply for her to complete her degree. I must say these actually narrowed the gap I had been having with her. We finally found one common ground to talk and share...
And she has etched herself as the favorite anyah for the girls.
But it was until a month ago that I really really come to appreciate her. Having been willing to help me through one of the slums in my life. She has been a great supporter, though silent and non-offensive, but ever efficient. She has been the sunshine for her nieces, all the time dotting and giving in. She cooked their favorite dishes, listened to them whine, became the replacement mom while I sunk into my black hole.
I know for the life of me, that I can never repay her. I can only pray that He does it for me.
And I hope that she knows I am proud to have her as my one and only sister.
Being an only child for 13 years, I was already used to having the whole house to myself.
And then she arrived. Two months early and fragile and all the attention was on her. We had to put up at nenek's for the whole 2 months that my mom was in confinement. Owh, and we were getting adjusted that we had just gotten back from Glasgow. It was one of the worst moments in my life.
I remember having to do the houseworks; preparing for ayah's morning nescafe, cleaning the house. I remember dreading what I had to do. The first few days that mama was admited, I forgot to take the trash out. When I opened the trash bin to take the trash, I was shocked by the amount of huge maggots that hovered the bin! I remembered having my cousin cycling over with a can of Ridsect on his BMX to rescue me the housework princess. :)
And it was just right that I blamed her for me having to go through all these, right? :D
And then since she was small, she would always stole the limelight . Having been born at 7 months, almost everyone in the family was at awe with her growth. She grew up chubby and cute, with curly hair and all. I always found her annoying especially whenever she came into my room and ransacked my bookshelves. I would always find it irritating that mama would always back her up whenever I scold her or chase her out of my room. Could not close my door as she'd be banging from outside, yet the sound of her in my room was totalling disturbing.
I think I only spent a total of 5 years staying under the same roof as her. I was elated to be taken out of the house to do my preparatory studies in Shah Alam. Occasional coming home would have me see her grown, yet never able to absorb her into my life.
By the time I was to fly off, she wasn't even in Primary One. The geographical distant further put a distance between us.
I came back after 2 years from The States hauling a husband, and that made things even worse. I was closer to my friends and she was closer to hers. Conversations were short and awkward, hardly the same wavelength. But almost 2 years after that, I had my first born and that was when I came to know of my sister's affection for children, especially her niece. I can still recall how she would love to stroke her newborn niece's hair softly. She had this awe on her face everytime she did that. And a satisfied smile every time.
Until one day when ayah asked me to talk to her after her SPM. She was insistance on going into catering when her results way surpassed the requirement. I remember sprawling on the floor in my living room exploring what she'd want to do for her future. I remember having given that burden and seeing ayah's face all relieved not having to do that alone.
Had to do the same thing after she finished her matriculation. Bergolek on her bed trying to figure out where she should apply for her to complete her degree. I must say these actually narrowed the gap I had been having with her. We finally found one common ground to talk and share...
And she has etched herself as the favorite anyah for the girls.
But it was until a month ago that I really really come to appreciate her. Having been willing to help me through one of the slums in my life. She has been a great supporter, though silent and non-offensive, but ever efficient. She has been the sunshine for her nieces, all the time dotting and giving in. She cooked their favorite dishes, listened to them whine, became the replacement mom while I sunk into my black hole.
I know for the life of me, that I can never repay her. I can only pray that He does it for me.
And I hope that she knows I am proud to have her as my one and only sister.
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
I am...
As I stood atop that hill watching cars on MRR2 buzzing like ants towards new source of food, I felt some sense of self coming back to me.
And I realized, that despite anything and everything, I have still have me.
I may be down and out, I may be sad and pessimistic, I may be bitter and vengeful, or unstable up in the head. But I have good health that I am yet to be grateful for. I still have my feet to take me walking. I have my courage, no matter how battered it may be. I still have air around me that I can breathe. I still have friends to pull me up on my feet.
And I can still smile and light up any stranger's heart. I know I have that. I know I can cheer up the whole town but yet I never try to do it on myself.
And I know I have abundant of love to still give away.
I shall survive this. I shall get thru this... armed with my smile, my love and life that has been so kind to me...
And I realized, that despite anything and everything, I have still have me.
I may be down and out, I may be sad and pessimistic, I may be bitter and vengeful, or unstable up in the head. But I have good health that I am yet to be grateful for. I still have my feet to take me walking. I have my courage, no matter how battered it may be. I still have air around me that I can breathe. I still have friends to pull me up on my feet.
And I can still smile and light up any stranger's heart. I know I have that. I know I can cheer up the whole town but yet I never try to do it on myself.
And I know I have abundant of love to still give away.
I shall survive this. I shall get thru this... armed with my smile, my love and life that has been so kind to me...
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Friday, April 23, 2010
Mama's Proud of You
My dear daughter,
I know I have not been very kind to you. I have set a very high expectation over you, just like how your atok and nenek had been to me when I was at your age.
I know I have not been understanding, that I have been pushing, that I have expected you to be matured before your time.
I know I may have pushed you to accept life's hardest fact, when I should be telling you that things will be alright.
I am sorry, anakku. I am sorry that you may have to bear the burden at such a young age, when you should be enjoying your teen years growing up with friends and laughters.
I know that I have not been fair to you, that I may not shower you with much love and attention that you may need.
But seeing these pictures tonight, makes me even more shamed for the things I have blamed you for the last years. I hope I have not gone too far as to make you a bitter person and hate me all your life.
I can see that you are much loved among your friends, despite the differences among your skin color and mother-tounge. I can see that you fit well, my dear... just like those compliments thrown your way that I often brush aside.
You have blossomed into a young woman who knows no boundary in love. Just as how I'd want you to be.
Spread the love you have, anakku. Trust that those love will come back to you and hold you strong whenever you need them to.
Face the world and never let it pulls you down. No one can pull you down except for yourself.
Be strong. Be independent. Be dependable. For life is never kind, no matter how kind you are to humankind.
But remember most of all, mama's proud of you...
I love you.
Mama
I know I have not been very kind to you. I have set a very high expectation over you, just like how your atok and nenek had been to me when I was at your age.
I know I have not been understanding, that I have been pushing, that I have expected you to be matured before your time.
I know I may have pushed you to accept life's hardest fact, when I should be telling you that things will be alright.
I am sorry, anakku. I am sorry that you may have to bear the burden at such a young age, when you should be enjoying your teen years growing up with friends and laughters.
I know that I have not been fair to you, that I may not shower you with much love and attention that you may need.
But seeing these pictures tonight, makes me even more shamed for the things I have blamed you for the last years. I hope I have not gone too far as to make you a bitter person and hate me all your life.
I can see that you are much loved among your friends, despite the differences among your skin color and mother-tounge. I can see that you fit well, my dear... just like those compliments thrown your way that I often brush aside.
You have blossomed into a young woman who knows no boundary in love. Just as how I'd want you to be.
Spread the love you have, anakku. Trust that those love will come back to you and hold you strong whenever you need them to.
Face the world and never let it pulls you down. No one can pull you down except for yourself.
Be strong. Be independent. Be dependable. For life is never kind, no matter how kind you are to humankind.
But remember most of all, mama's proud of you...
I love you.
Mama
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
I Miss My Writing...
And finally, I am lost for words to write.
For the last two years, I have been chunking emotions upon emotions into my writing and one day I woke up not having anything to say.
It feels wierd because I practically searched every inch of my emotional closet and I couldn't find anything to write about. My mind has gone blank. I'm having visions that my possible writing career crushed.
What could be the reason for my mind-block? Is it because I am home mostly and not having to deal with frustrations, anger and hatred? Or is it the other way round?
Whatever it is, I hope it goes away soon.
I miss my writing...
For the last two years, I have been chunking emotions upon emotions into my writing and one day I woke up not having anything to say.
It feels wierd because I practically searched every inch of my emotional closet and I couldn't find anything to write about. My mind has gone blank. I'm having visions that my possible writing career crushed.
What could be the reason for my mind-block? Is it because I am home mostly and not having to deal with frustrations, anger and hatred? Or is it the other way round?
Whatever it is, I hope it goes away soon.
I miss my writing...
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Thunder, Rain and My Mom
I was sitting at my parents living room when thunder started to sound. In less than a minute, rain started to pour.
My father and sister was staring at the blank television that had no signal from Astro.
As I looked up from White and onto my father and the whole house, I was brought back to days of me growing up.
In those days, whenever there was thunder, my mom would quickly switch off all electrical appliances. I remember getting scolded thousands of times because I refused to switch off the television when there was thunder and lightning. I hated rain back then... it took me away from my favorite series.
We would sit in the dark until the rain stopped. Really was not fun.
But today the scene was totally different - 3 fans still turning, one television turned on, the house was well lit. For a moment I wanted to asked my mom, when did she change her attitude towards thunder and lightning... But I didn't want to spoil it...
I love my mom... :)
My father and sister was staring at the blank television that had no signal from Astro.
As I looked up from White and onto my father and the whole house, I was brought back to days of me growing up.
In those days, whenever there was thunder, my mom would quickly switch off all electrical appliances. I remember getting scolded thousands of times because I refused to switch off the television when there was thunder and lightning. I hated rain back then... it took me away from my favorite series.
We would sit in the dark until the rain stopped. Really was not fun.
But today the scene was totally different - 3 fans still turning, one television turned on, the house was well lit. For a moment I wanted to asked my mom, when did she change her attitude towards thunder and lightning... But I didn't want to spoil it...
I love my mom... :)
Monday, April 5, 2010
Thursday, March 4, 2010
My Loyal Companions
You guys ever believe our possession ada perasaan? I do...
I was an only child for 13 years, so my companions were my toys and my belongings. And since I had no friends to talk to, I'd always make believe that my belongings 'talk' to me.
One of my earlier love was 'Noni'...
Noni became my first ever companion. She spoke to me in voices heard by no other. She cried with me when I got scolded by my mother. She was alive to me in every single ways that can be thought of by a 6 year-old.
Along the way, few more companions came and went - Fred the tortoise, Sam the angelfish, Nana the huge plastic doll.
Each one was treated with love and care as if they were alive and had feelings.
Days turned into months. Months turned into years. College days, got married, had kids. I had no time to hallucinate objects with feelings.
Until I met Blue. It was a love I can't describe. Blue wasn't my first car, but it was the first brand new car I ever owned. I wasn't the kind who'd wash the car everyday, or one who'd tell you to shake the dirt off your footwear before getting into the car. My kind of love was different. I was (and have been) rough with Blue but I handled (and still do) it (him) with respect as if it (he) has feelings.
My mom once said never ever in front of a car, say anything about not loving it or not needing it anymore. I asked why, and she said, it has ears. It may be metal, but it has ears. I guess that further enforced my belief.
With Blue, I never verbally say anything. So true that even if I flirt or dream about having other cars, Blue is always first in my heart. Some say that about men and their first wives. I guess Blue is my first husband. (yeah, go ahead and speculate anything you want...)
Some nights ago, the life partner said to the kids about mama selling off her car. Although he was joking because he knows how much I love Blue, plus the fact that Blue was parked some 20 kilometers away, I guess somehow the wind brought news to its (his) ears.
And since then, Blue has been grumpy. Beside the fact that the compressor wasn't working and got fixed earlier, it (he) made squeeky noises (which I solved and found out was caused by the jack underneath the passenger seat), got the radiator fan motor malfunctioned, got it(him)self overheated for the first time ever, and today - today it got a bolt into one of it's 3 months old tyres.
So if you ask me if Blue has got feelings, I believe it (he) does. And as much as it (he) is hurt by those words, it (he) hurts me back in return. When it comes to Blue, it's not only a financial torture for me, it's also an emotional burden.
So please forgive me for yacking too much about Blue. Just hide my FB statuses if you had too much of me. I just love my Blue to bits.
:/
(And to be fair, I need to mention my other loyal companions: White the laptop, Stealth the phone, Black the mp3 player which is actually a replacement to Stone which decided to go MIA and Yellowman the broadband modem. I can't risk not having anyone of them buat perangai at this moment of time... :P)
I was an only child for 13 years, so my companions were my toys and my belongings. And since I had no friends to talk to, I'd always make believe that my belongings 'talk' to me.
One of my earlier love was 'Noni'...
Noni was an oversized teddy bear I fell in love with from a Cathay Pacific advertisement I saw in the newspapers when I was 6. One day, ayah and his colleague, Uncle Mazda, made a day trip to Singapore. Before they left, Uncle Mazda sat me on his lap and asked me what I wanted. I showed him that advertisement.
That night, they came back with 'Noni'. Uncle Mazda again sat me on his lap with Noni by the side and asked me what would I like to name it. I just shrugged. Then he said, "Nama Noni sedap. Kita panggil dia Noni, nak?". I just smiled, too shy to say anything and too disbelieved that I actually got what I wanted.
Noni became my first ever companion. She spoke to me in voices heard by no other. She cried with me when I got scolded by my mother. She was alive to me in every single ways that can be thought of by a 6 year-old.
Along the way, few more companions came and went - Fred the tortoise, Sam the angelfish, Nana the huge plastic doll.
As I grew bigger, I also grew out of them. That or they died on me.
When my little sister was born, I was in the rebellious stage. With much rebellion and resentment, I again recoiled into my 'seeking companion in belongings' phase. I had Man the daily journal and Man II the walkman.
Each one was treated with love and care as if they were alive and had feelings.
Days turned into months. Months turned into years. College days, got married, had kids. I had no time to hallucinate objects with feelings.
Until I met Blue. It was a love I can't describe. Blue wasn't my first car, but it was the first brand new car I ever owned. I wasn't the kind who'd wash the car everyday, or one who'd tell you to shake the dirt off your footwear before getting into the car. My kind of love was different. I was (and have been) rough with Blue but I handled (and still do) it (him) with respect as if it (he) has feelings.
My mom once said never ever in front of a car, say anything about not loving it or not needing it anymore. I asked why, and she said, it has ears. It may be metal, but it has ears. I guess that further enforced my belief.
With Blue, I never verbally say anything. So true that even if I flirt or dream about having other cars, Blue is always first in my heart. Some say that about men and their first wives. I guess Blue is my first husband. (yeah, go ahead and speculate anything you want...)
Some nights ago, the life partner said to the kids about mama selling off her car. Although he was joking because he knows how much I love Blue, plus the fact that Blue was parked some 20 kilometers away, I guess somehow the wind brought news to its (his) ears.
And since then, Blue has been grumpy. Beside the fact that the compressor wasn't working and got fixed earlier, it (he) made squeeky noises (which I solved and found out was caused by the jack underneath the passenger seat), got the radiator fan motor malfunctioned, got it(him)self overheated for the first time ever, and today - today it got a bolt into one of it's 3 months old tyres.
So if you ask me if Blue has got feelings, I believe it (he) does. And as much as it (he) is hurt by those words, it (he) hurts me back in return. When it comes to Blue, it's not only a financial torture for me, it's also an emotional burden.
So please forgive me for yacking too much about Blue. Just hide my FB statuses if you had too much of me. I just love my Blue to bits.
:/
(And to be fair, I need to mention my other loyal companions: White the laptop, Stealth the phone, Black the mp3 player which is actually a replacement to Stone which decided to go MIA and Yellowman the broadband modem. I can't risk not having anyone of them buat perangai at this moment of time... :P)
My Noni
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Ego
Quite frankly, I never knew that men can't take rejection.
When I was growing up, I rejected one or two (or three or four) when I was in a relationship. But I guess those didn't count. They weren't men. They were boys.
And for the longest time, I got myself into one relationship that halted my lessons on men. I have no idea that rejection from women really hurt men. Especially men with big egos.
Until one day.
I did not realize that I had twisted a man by his arm, and used his own words against him. And severed his ego, badly...
And time and time again, I become that dumb bimbo who forgot what disgusting creature that I must have turned myself into in his eyes.
But I think I'm OK and I will survive regardless.
Afterall, it probably take courage to do what I did - twist a man by his arm.
:D
When I was growing up, I rejected one or two (or three or four) when I was in a relationship. But I guess those didn't count. They weren't men. They were boys.
And for the longest time, I got myself into one relationship that halted my lessons on men. I have no idea that rejection from women really hurt men. Especially men with big egos.
Until one day.
I did not realize that I had twisted a man by his arm, and used his own words against him. And severed his ego, badly...
And time and time again, I become that dumb bimbo who forgot what disgusting creature that I must have turned myself into in his eyes.
But I think I'm OK and I will survive regardless.
Afterall, it probably take courage to do what I did - twist a man by his arm.
:D
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Cinta Agung
It was a sad news.
The whole family perished in a car accident. The car was wrecked and burnt until nothing of it was left. Including the 6 - husband, wife, and 4 kids aged between 11 and 2. They were on the way home from a vacation.
I try to put myself in their situation. Knowing those moments would be the last that you'll ever have with the children. Knowing that the next day, you are just history and memories, nothing more than pictures kept in drawers and shoeboxes.
It must be painful, but it may also be a relief knowing that the children will not grow up missing the love of their parents.
I don't know. I can never imagine.
But reading that news also got me thinking, there must be such thing as love made in heaven. The kind of love that binds a man and a woman, so strong that they would die with each other. Not for, but with.
Cinta agung, a wise friend calls it.
That same friend asked me once if cinta agung would still exist on this earth till she dies.
I told her it still would, only it may never hit neither she nor me.
Which reminds me of a man whose wife succumbed to the cruelty of the big C. She was his first love from the moment he laid eyes on her. She became the pivotal point in his life, everything about him was around her. When they got to know of her illness, it was too late to do anything. But her breath was his life. For the few years that she beared the pain, were the years that he too was hurt silently. When she could no longer get up from her bed, it was him who bathed her, fed her, changed her. He made her beautiful for their small children to remember how the mother looked like when she was alive. Even at the point when she was weak, she was his strength. She was his everything.
The night that she left in her sleep was the night the world fell upon him. The children were still small, his life was gone. He had no strength to move on, not even for himself. When she died, he died too... soul, life and love.
*sigh*
Cinta agung? Maybe it was.
But I don't want to be the one dying.
:|
The whole family perished in a car accident. The car was wrecked and burnt until nothing of it was left. Including the 6 - husband, wife, and 4 kids aged between 11 and 2. They were on the way home from a vacation.
I try to put myself in their situation. Knowing those moments would be the last that you'll ever have with the children. Knowing that the next day, you are just history and memories, nothing more than pictures kept in drawers and shoeboxes.
It must be painful, but it may also be a relief knowing that the children will not grow up missing the love of their parents.
I don't know. I can never imagine.
But reading that news also got me thinking, there must be such thing as love made in heaven. The kind of love that binds a man and a woman, so strong that they would die with each other. Not for, but with.
Cinta agung, a wise friend calls it.
That same friend asked me once if cinta agung would still exist on this earth till she dies.
I told her it still would, only it may never hit neither she nor me.
Which reminds me of a man whose wife succumbed to the cruelty of the big C. She was his first love from the moment he laid eyes on her. She became the pivotal point in his life, everything about him was around her. When they got to know of her illness, it was too late to do anything. But her breath was his life. For the few years that she beared the pain, were the years that he too was hurt silently. When she could no longer get up from her bed, it was him who bathed her, fed her, changed her. He made her beautiful for their small children to remember how the mother looked like when she was alive. Even at the point when she was weak, she was his strength. She was his everything.
The night that she left in her sleep was the night the world fell upon him. The children were still small, his life was gone. He had no strength to move on, not even for himself. When she died, he died too... soul, life and love.
*sigh*
Cinta agung? Maybe it was.
But I don't want to be the one dying.
:|
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Me & Sleep
Me and sleep are actually quite synonymous.
You can't find me sitting down doing nothing and not find me asleep. Anything that requires me to sit still and use my visual and hearing ability will have me asleep in less than 20. That's why you'd always see me on the go. Moving about doing absolutely almost everything.
Ironically, I can stay awake the most part of a drive being the co-pilot. Note: co-pilot. If I was the passenger, I'd take the opportunity to cat-nap the moment the gear hit D. :)
So, no surprise that now that I am jobless, I'd be asleep most of the time if I were at home. Sleep is the most priceless commodity for me since I was growing up. Better reak it while it lasts.
:D
You can't find me sitting down doing nothing and not find me asleep. Anything that requires me to sit still and use my visual and hearing ability will have me asleep in less than 20. That's why you'd always see me on the go. Moving about doing absolutely almost everything.
Ironically, I can stay awake the most part of a drive being the co-pilot. Note: co-pilot. If I was the passenger, I'd take the opportunity to cat-nap the moment the gear hit D. :)
So, no surprise that now that I am jobless, I'd be asleep most of the time if I were at home. Sleep is the most priceless commodity for me since I was growing up. Better reak it while it lasts.
:D
Thursday, January 28, 2010
My Thoughts...
Apabila kita merasakan musibah yang berlaku pada seseorang itu adalah kerana penganiayaannya kepada kita, pernahkan kita terfikir bahawa mungkin apa yang berlaku kepada kita itu adalah sebenarnya berpunca dari kita menganiyai orang lain?
Fikir-fikirkanlah...
Fikir-fikirkanlah...
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
A Lonely Road...
I didn't know that it was going to be this lonely
I would've turned back
And not make the call
If I had known that this road is a loneful journey
It is a time for reflection they tell me
But more of time for remorse and sadness
And more space for emptiness to creep in
There's a reason for everything they say
But when all I see is blame and anger
I start to ask where is the reason
When life seems more unfair and cruel
And has no mercy to the one who seems to be
Carrying more patience than she should.
Time and time again I ask
Is this the path for me, dear God
For it seems so treacherous the further I go
With poisonous vines seem to pierce my soul
And wound my faith
And hamper me from moving forward.
Am I heading towards my destiny
Or am I steering away from it
There is no compass for me to follow
Nor is there the North Star
To tell me to go forward, back, left or right.
It really feels like I am in the middle of a dune, with no telling the direction, all alone, thirsty, hungry, empty.
I would've turned back
And not make the call
If I had known that this road is a loneful journey
It is a time for reflection they tell me
But more of time for remorse and sadness
And more space for emptiness to creep in
There's a reason for everything they say
But when all I see is blame and anger
I start to ask where is the reason
When life seems more unfair and cruel
And has no mercy to the one who seems to be
Carrying more patience than she should.
Time and time again I ask
Is this the path for me, dear God
For it seems so treacherous the further I go
With poisonous vines seem to pierce my soul
And wound my faith
And hamper me from moving forward.
Am I heading towards my destiny
Or am I steering away from it
There is no compass for me to follow
Nor is there the North Star
To tell me to go forward, back, left or right.
It really feels like I am in the middle of a dune, with no telling the direction, all alone, thirsty, hungry, empty.
Saturday, January 2, 2010
Technology-bimbo I'm Not; Typical (m) Man You Are
It's so sickening how a man of your own ethnic background can look down on you.
But I'm not referring this to all men, just certain men - the typical (malay) men who have ego the size of Jupiter but ion-sized brains. They think they are the superior-know-it-all and that women are the inferior-you-aint-know-nothing-baby piece of invention God has ever created.
Do you know that there's a daily convention of this male kind on the 3rd floor of Low Yatt Plaza? Yup, there is. I only discovered it by accident today.
My not-so-little-anymore sister decided that she'd get herself a new toy on New Year's day and had asked me to come along. I don't know much, but I do know that I know enough when it comes to comparing specifications.
At our first stop, a Lenovo caught our attention. The lengchai in-charge enthusiatically listed out the specification. No printed brochure, but he was kind enough to write down the details on a piece of blank paper. I haggled on the freebies, and after a while he agreed to trade them for something more useful. Great! That's our benchmark of the day.
We moved on, checked out other places, pestered a couple more lengchais and we finally got the grip on what we were looking for.
Some steps ahead, we passed this booth manned by a few abangs who called out for us to check out their stocks. I thought checking out on their deal wasn't any harm. So I walked over and had this interaction with one of them:
Me: Apa spec Dell ni, ek?
Him: Amik Acer la, Acer ni elok gak.
Me: Saya nak tau Dell dulu. Bagi spec Dell ni dulu.
Reluctantly, he listed out his offer by scribbling it on a piece of paper - the price, 320GB hard drive, 1GB RAM, screen size. By now, he had that I-got-you look on his face, smirking as if I knew nuts of what he was saying. Then I asked if that was all for the price. He quickly said something about the OS, and highlighted the 'FOC' softwares that he'd throw in.
When I said that I didn't need the FOC's because I can get them from the net myself, he countered that it's not that easy to download and install them. OK, typical men.
When I asked about the OS, he said "guna pirate je la". By then I had a shocked look. The price he was offering was higher than the lengchais' but at a lower specification. He insisted that I would get the same specification anywhere in the building. It hit me, he thought less of me. I mentioned that his price was high for whatever that he offered, and I thanked him. As I was about to turn around, with the look of disbelief he squeeled "Astaghfirullah al'azeeeeeeeemmm". Another step had him belch "sombong betul!".
By then, I was ready to turn around and give him a piece of my mind. Or give him a middle finger. Or punch him on the face. I did none. I just walked away.
Several more stops at similar abang stalls proved me right. A tudung-clad lady walking around asking for specifications and prices is a technology-bimbo in the eyes of these men.
Which made me upset. Because some naive bunch of girls from the local colleges would definitely fall into the trap. Because these superior-know-it-all kind will definitely strive and live on.
As my sister and I walked towards Ah Meng to final our deal, we both knew that even if we overpay him, it was for his effort, his lip-service and most of all, for respecting us ladies as his customers.
:/
But I'm not referring this to all men, just certain men - the typical (malay) men who have ego the size of Jupiter but ion-sized brains. They think they are the superior-know-it-all and that women are the inferior-you-aint-know-nothing-baby piece of invention God has ever created.
Do you know that there's a daily convention of this male kind on the 3rd floor of Low Yatt Plaza? Yup, there is. I only discovered it by accident today.
My not-so-little-anymore sister decided that she'd get herself a new toy on New Year's day and had asked me to come along. I don't know much, but I do know that I know enough when it comes to comparing specifications.
At our first stop, a Lenovo caught our attention. The lengchai in-charge enthusiatically listed out the specification. No printed brochure, but he was kind enough to write down the details on a piece of blank paper. I haggled on the freebies, and after a while he agreed to trade them for something more useful. Great! That's our benchmark of the day.
We moved on, checked out other places, pestered a couple more lengchais and we finally got the grip on what we were looking for.
Some steps ahead, we passed this booth manned by a few abangs who called out for us to check out their stocks. I thought checking out on their deal wasn't any harm. So I walked over and had this interaction with one of them:
Me: Apa spec Dell ni, ek?
Him: Amik Acer la, Acer ni elok gak.
Me: Saya nak tau Dell dulu. Bagi spec Dell ni dulu.
Reluctantly, he listed out his offer by scribbling it on a piece of paper - the price, 320GB hard drive, 1GB RAM, screen size. By now, he had that I-got-you look on his face, smirking as if I knew nuts of what he was saying. Then I asked if that was all for the price. He quickly said something about the OS, and highlighted the 'FOC' softwares that he'd throw in.
When I said that I didn't need the FOC's because I can get them from the net myself, he countered that it's not that easy to download and install them. OK, typical men.
When I asked about the OS, he said "guna pirate je la". By then I had a shocked look. The price he was offering was higher than the lengchais' but at a lower specification. He insisted that I would get the same specification anywhere in the building. It hit me, he thought less of me. I mentioned that his price was high for whatever that he offered, and I thanked him. As I was about to turn around, with the look of disbelief he squeeled "Astaghfirullah al'azeeeeeeeemmm". Another step had him belch "sombong betul!".
By then, I was ready to turn around and give him a piece of my mind. Or give him a middle finger. Or punch him on the face. I did none. I just walked away.
Several more stops at similar abang stalls proved me right. A tudung-clad lady walking around asking for specifications and prices is a technology-bimbo in the eyes of these men.
Which made me upset. Because some naive bunch of girls from the local colleges would definitely fall into the trap. Because these superior-know-it-all kind will definitely strive and live on.
As my sister and I walked towards Ah Meng to final our deal, we both knew that even if we overpay him, it was for his effort, his lip-service and most of all, for respecting us ladies as his customers.
:/
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