Happy Merdeka

Whoever that claimed that those taking part in the Merdeka Parade has a high sense of patriotism might be right... It is not easy to rehearse for weeks ahead, to wake up extremely early on the very day, to wait for hours until one actually get his or her chance of 5 seconds-on-TV fame. Of course, all of them would get their allowance, free breakfast, chances to meet new people from other organizations, chances to make new friends, chances to laugh at other people's blunders or antics before, during and right after the procession...

Still, after forgotting to put on some sunblock lotion prior to joining the Merdeka Parade on behalf of my office, wearing silly costume (navy blue track suit with black a'la cowboy hat and white sneakers) under scorching hot sun in Shah Alam on 31st August 2000, I have no intention to repeat proclaiming my patriotism spirit through taking part in such procession again. Ever.

Happy Merdeka my fellow Malaysians :-)

Mind Probe

Was suddenly inspired to give this test a try after seeing xman's result...

Here's what I found out...

Your Brain Usage Profile:

Auditory : 35%
Visual : 64%
Left : 55%
Right : 44%

A.Z., you are somewhat left-hemisphere dominant and show a preference for visual learning, although not extreme in either characteristic. You probably tend to do most things in moderation, but not always.

Your left-hemisphere dominance implies that your learning style is organized and structured, detail oriented and logical. Your visual preference, though, has you seeking stimulation and multiple data. Such an outlook can overwhelm structure and logic and create an almost continuous state of uncertainty and agitation. You may well suffer a feeling of continually trying to "catch up" with yourself.

Your tendency to be organized and logical and attend to details is reasonably well-established which should afford you success regardless of your chosen field of endeavor. You can "size up" situations and take in information rapidly. However, you must then subject that data to being classified and organized which causes you to "lose touch" with the immediacy of the problem.

Your logical and methodical nature hamper you in this regard though in the long run it may work to your advantage since you "learn from experience" and can go through the process more rapidly on subsequent occasions.

You remain predominantly functional in your orientation and practical. Abstraction and theory are secondary to application. In keeping with this, you focus on details until they manifest themselves in a unique pattern and only then work with the "larger whole."

With regards to your career choices, you have a mentality that would be good as a scientist, coach, athlete, design consultant, or an engineering technician. You can "see where you want to go" and even be able to "tell yourself," but find that you are "fighting yourself" at the darndest times.

Life is too short to be little

"Often we allow ourselves to be upset by small things that we should forget about at once. Perhaps someone we helped has proven ungrateful, someone we believed to be a friend has spoken ill of us, some regard we thought we deserved has been denied to us.

We feel such disappointment so strongly that we can no longer work, or even sleep.

We lose many irreplaceable hours brooding over grievances that in a year's time will be forgotten by us and everybody else. Let us devote our lives to worthwhile feelings and actions, to great thoughts, real affections and enduring actions for others. Life is too short to be little."

- Andre Maurois as printed in Soundings.

Waking up smiling…

This morning I woke up smiling - to the sound of a particular ringtone assigned to a special someone, who purposely hung up right after he got the connected sign so that I would only be getting a missed call.

A standard Selamat Pagi sms greeting arrived half an hour later -
"assalamualaikum. selamat pagi. dah sarapan? gie keje pukul brape? keje bebaik, ok"
- to which I quickly replied with my own ohayo gozaimas greeting.

This morning I woke up smiling - just like I smiled before going to sleep last night reading his cute "Good Nite" sms, which I’d replied with a simple line of oyasumi nasai.

Lately, my message inbox had been flooded with loads of cute sms. And boy - I sure have been getting lots of missed calls.

Mildly annoying as they could be, getting missed calls serves the purpose of letting me know that I'm being missed and thought about all day long. Thus, I could not help smiling every time that particular ringtone pierced the silence for a brief few seconds.

I’ve quite forgotten how it felt to keep receiving missed calls after every few hours.
I’ve quite forgotten how it felt to keep getting cute sms messages every so often.
I’ve quite forgotten how it felt waking up smiling in the morning…

They sure feel N.I.C.E.

Seems like the adolescent tricks of sending missed calls and cute sms - coming from the right person - could still work some magic on a girl in her late twenties after all…

Making good impression vs coming out clean about the blog

Duan had asked me recently how do I intend to go about with my blogging activities if all of a sudden I found myself committed to rush home early and if my future partner doesn’t approve of my blogging.

I told Duan that I don’t think I shall disclose to a possible future partner about my blogging if I thought it might pose a threat to a budding relationship. Duan warned me that my future partner might not be able to accept a few of my writings well – stuff like ice skating, mountain climbing, my wish to bungy jump. And I haven’t even begin talking about my dream of sky diving and white water rafting…

It makes me wonder – since I have to give some good impression during the initial stage of ‘getting–to-know-each-other’, and Duan felt letting a Mr Possible reading my blog might not leave the best impression of me to him – then, when would be the best time for me to disclose to a possible future partner about the existence of this blog?

Huh?

Pak Abas’s reply via e-mail when I asked him to pray for me to get to be selected for the Mambusho’s scholarship was:

“Ko nak pegi jepun buat ape. kat jaya jusco tu macam-macam makanan jepun ade. gi aje le beli.”

Huh?

A Mother-in-Law, A Daughter-in-Law and A Supermarket

I read this story in "Strange But True: A True Life Japanese Reader" this morning as I waited for all routines completed/test results for my medical check-up. (Yup, the medical-check up I need to undergo as required by the Japanese Embassy for my Mambusho's scholarship...) I thought this one worth a re-told in my blog.

So, here goes:

It was midday during a dry spell in the rainy season when F, 61 came from Zushi to visit the home of her daughter-in-law S, 31, in Setagaya. "Since I'd already come as far as Shibuya, I just dropped by to see my grandchild"

For S, her mother-in-law was more frightening than a demon. S did everything she could to be a good hostess for F. Later, her mother-in-law took S's daughter for a walk.

S breathed a sigh of relief. As she relaxed, S felt hungry, and her eyes suddenly came to rest upon a bag of doughnuts that her mother-in-law had bought at K-nokuniya, a luxury supermarket nearby. F had said that she was going to take the doughnuts home tu Zushi.

S thought at first, "I really shouldn't touch them." But hunger is stronger than reason. She opened the bag and found six doughnuts inside.

"Maybe she won't notice if I eat only one," S thought. She hurriedly ate a doughnut and carefully reclosed the package.

F returned from her walk none the wiser. Quite satisfied with herself, she left for home, carrying the bag of doughnuts.

But sure enough, when F returned to Zushi, she noticed one doughnut was missing. That's when the trouble started.

"I can't believe that, of all the stores in Japan, K-nokuniya would make such a mistake!" F immediately called K-nokuniya to complain. The call dragged on for 30 minutes. F was too much for the person in charge at K-nokuniya.

The first thing the next morning, clutching a single 80-yen doughnut as if their lives depended on it, the sales clerk and the floor supervisor came to F's home to apologize. One way, it had taken them more than 2 hours. When asked, the sales clerk said she had left home at 5 o'clock that morning.

F was greatly impressed. "That's K-nokuniya for you!" she said.

She spread the story around to her friends and S. Of course when S heard what had happened, her face turned deathly pale.

She has firmly resolved to take the secret to her grave.

- Original Japanese selection from "Dekigotology' by Shukan Asahi © Asahi Shimbunsha

Not every changes are for the better

When I read Yusof’s review on Dr Spencer Johnson’s “Who Moved My Cheese” recently, I can’t help reminiscing on my first reading of the book a few years ago. The book, thin as it was, with simple characters and simple words used, has helped in stating the obvious to many – yours truly included, on the way the world has always operate. The world changes (the old cheese will run out and everyone have to look for a new cheese), and we need to change with it; to adapt to changes quickly and adjust accordingly.

Sadly too many people end up stuck, trying to solve new problems with old methods, becoming too problem-oriented rather than solution-oriented. And when everything fails to work, they whine, grumble and blame others – wondering who moved their cheese. The winners though, didn’t just sit back and complain, but they moved as the cheese moved. They realised what used to work well yesterday, might not work as well tomorrow. So they change their strategies, change their routes, change themselves as the constant changes around them took place.

Looking from that perspective, changes seem a good thing. However, just like Yusof reflected upon – not all changes are positive, not all changes could always be considered improvements. When a certain change occurs, it is up to us to determine whether it is a good or not-so-good kind of changes. Sometimes, we do need to be resistant against certain changes and not always change as the world changes.

When I attended Bon Odori Festival in Shah Alam not so long ago, I noticed many brought along the whole family to enjoy the festival. It was the first Bon Odori festival I attended and I took Kak Ham along mostly to enjoy good and cheap Japanese food, as well as enjoying the ala Japanese summer ambience. There we were, happily making instant collection of plastic Japanese summer fans with various labels, bought some Japanese ABC (shredded ice with red beans and green tea syrup) and roasted corn on cob. We even bought some mochi and dorayaki on our way back home – two most popular Japanese wagashi (cakes/dessert) around here (perhaps with some help from the ever popular Japanese cartoon character – Doraemon).

After we finally selected a spot facing the podium in the middle of Matsushita Sports Complex, Kak Ham and I soon found ourselves surrounded by members of another family, the youngest of them some teenagers and the eldest, a frail grandma who might be in her 70’s.

Kak Ham was totally appalled by the rude way the grandchildren behaved towards the weak grandma – how they never respected her wish not to try out some new food. She was old, she was entitled to her own opinion, but the grandchildren practically shoved down some weird looking stuff down the poor grandma’s throat.

“Jom balik,” she asked right after I returned from praying Maghrib in the small and crowded surau. I agreed.

It was when we were on the car that Kak Ham let out some steam about the mean grandchildren she just witnessed.

“They had no respect at all for the grandma. She had told them that she didn’t want to taste it – so why can’t they leave it at that? Why can’t they respect her wish? Whatever happen to the culture of respecting the elders?”

Hmm, I supposed young adults today are becoming highly adaptable and could adjust well to changing environment pretty fast. I supposed some where along the line, they have forgotten that some values and cultures of respecting the elders are for keep and not to be compromised. I supposed since they can adjust and change often, they presume everybody else – frail grandmas included – can do the same without any problem. I supposed along the way, they have forgotten that grandmas are not their peers who they can treat lightly. Grandmas are often more sensitive and easily hurt than mere peers.

But I supposed they just think that grandmas too should change as the world changes. Which may not be necessarily true. Some changes are good - but not every changes are for the better. Grandchildren for instance, should remain respectful - even if they have differing thoughts and opinions - to the elders.

When was the last time you hugged Life?

Another e-mail-I-thought-worth-sharing entry. Enjoy!

It was in the dairy barn where I found my oasis during this Bloomsburg Fair. I so admire the young folks who tend to farm animals. I think they have a greater appreciation for life. They participate in it firsthand. I've watched a young boy help bring a calf into the world and I have seen a young girl walk her prize cow through the line of animals for sale, knowing that her job is done and it's time for it to leave home. It must be difficult.

My favorite scene is to come across a young person lying in the hay asleep among the cows that have settled down for a rest. There, with their heads nestled in a small soft spot along side their favorite cow, I have seen them in a much deserved sleep. Perhaps better at rest there than in their own bed.

I had the pleasure of speaking with a young teenage farm girl at rest today.

"You look so comfortable," I said to her.

"Oh I am," she said. "Life makes it comfortable for me."

"You mean being a farm girl?"

"No, Life! That's the name of my cow," she said smiling as she stroked the cows side.

"I thought they called cows Betsy and Elsie. Why did you call her Life?"

"I discovered life again here. It was the only sensible name that came to mind," she said. "I had been raised in the big city and reallyhated it. Then we moved to the country. Kinda running away from it all.I think my parents called it a mid-life crisis," she said laughing.

"Boy, I can relate to that. I've been in one since birth," I said.

"It was on the farm that I learned to love life again. I was there when Life was born. It was so exciting. My whole outlook on the world changed. So I named her Life. Now, I can say I really love "Life," she said.

"How incredible. You know I write stories and I am always trying to get people to embrace life. To wake up each day expecting the best from it. But they all too often go to bed with so much bad stuff in their soul,and on their mind, that they wake up miserable and expect it to only get worse from there. All too often it does, just because that's all they choose to see in that otherwise perfectly beautiful day," I told her.

"That's too bad. They need to see a cow born, a chicken hatch. I guess they need to wake up early and hug Life!" she said laughing.

"When was the last time you hugged Life?" she asked me.

"I am sorry to say even I have had trouble doing that lately," I said.

"Come here!" she said. Then standing up and stepping aside she said, "Go ahead... hug Life!"

I paused for a moment and dropping all thoughts of looking silly, I did. I hugged a cow

-Bob Perks

How to Survive the PAC

* Notes: This post is dedicated for all PTD hopefuls and PTD wannabes…

Congratulations! So you have passed your PTD entry exam and have been asked to attend the 3-days-2-nights all-expenses-paid-for stay in one of the many campuses of INTAN for the PTD Assessment Centre (PAC), huh?

In a nutshell, PAC is where PTD candidates will be screened almost thoroughly from different aspects of leadership - problem solving, decision-making, time management, team-spirit, creative thinking and such stuff. (I said almost, because it seems to me there’s almost always one or two bad apples surfaced in every batch, which at times made me wonder – why bother going through such thorough scrutiny?)

Screening is done through various activities. There will be lots of team building games, exercises and activities. Much-dreaded (by many participants) public speaking sessions in both English and BM would also be held. Last time there used to be a simple written test in English and BM – but we have been told that this test would not form part of a candidate’s performance score sheet, so I'm not sure whether this test thingy is still on or not. And there will be a talk on the Overview of PTD service or something to that effect. Do pay close attention to this talk - it could provide pointers for the coming interview.

Most observations and marking would be done by some senior officers, while some junior officers would be there as facilitators. Yes, not unlike those leadership courses you have attended during your high school or varsity days, you would be randomly grouped with some strangers. You will make new friends and you might also bump into some old friends. (For a while after we left PAC, my group-mates had bonded well via e-mail, but the correspondence somehow fizzled down after some of us were called for training and some did not make it. Still, it was fun while it lasted.)

The dynamics of the group change all the time with different activities and different leaders – keep your cool, contribute whenever and however possible, never take a free ride. Free riders are often the first to be dismissed as possible candidates for the interview held subsequently.

Be pleasant to everybody – your fellow PTD candidates, the senior officers, the facilitators, the cleaners, pakcik-makcik of Dewan Selera… Take turn becoming the group leader. While it’s important to let your thoughts be heard, it’s just as, if not more, important to listen to what others have to say. Try to remember – good leaders are also good followers.

Be witty. Be serious. Be quirky. Be smart. Just be yourself.

Be original. While many often jump in the bandwagon of choosing hot topics for public speaking – you don’t necessarily have to impress the senior officers with your knowledge of e-culture, murders, overhead bridge structures, or good governance. You can always choose a topic that suits you best – it could be as mundane as the teh tarik culture or napping at work. (Yes, I am speaking from experience – I chose those two topics for my BM and English public speaking respectively…) How you present it would make the bigger difference – so, do try to improve on your public speaking skills. It’s just a five-minute deal – but do practise, practise, practise. Time yourself well and don’t feel shy to ask for pointers from those who seem more confident and poised about it. And don’t forget to check your facts!

Enjoy the food and the environment – INTURA is most well known for its good food, INTIM is famous for its beautiful beaches, IKWAS is not that far from Kluang’ pasar malam and hilly INTAN Bukit Kiara is a good place to start losing weight with all the stairs ascending and descending that one has to do ;-)

So ladies and gentlemen – I hope you will enjoy your stay in INTAN during the PAC. Have fun and all the best!

In case...

In case anybody wondered – well, the internet line at my office went ‘weng’ last Wednesday evening and I was not in the office yesterday – hence the absence of my updates.

In an attempt to assist some long-distant relation of hers, a friend requested me to jot something on my experience of attending a PTD Assessment Centre. That is coming right next, insya Allah

Apparently the Ujanailmu’s webmaster took my comment on my previous entry to heart and send me a personal e-mail, apologizing for the not-so-mint condition of Kota Arialun and lack of Ahmad Patria’s autograph in Legenda Numerius. Dai joubu(No problem). He also thanked me personally for willing to make online purchase and asked if I mind putting up a link to Ujanailmu on my blog to promote it. Since I’ve received the books less than a week after I made my purchase, the least I can do is to give Ujanailmu some boost in my limited capability. So, dear webmaster – as promised, the link to Ujanailmu is on my sidebar right now. However, I still think that it could be even more interesting if you could come up with a button for Ujanailmu…

For those who might want to know what’s the latest with my Mombusho’s scholarship application, well, alhamdulillah, I’m pleased to let you know that I’ve been notified that (notwithstanding the interview I thought I fumbled) the Interview Panel have decided to nominate my name to the Japanese Government for the final selection. Yokatta ne? I’ve missed out on the opportunity to go for Umrah with some close relatives to sit for the Mombusho exam in June, made an extra effort for the interview last month and I REALLY, really want to do my Master’s degree in Japan so very badly… From the 800 who’d applied for the scholarship this year, about 400 were called for the exam; about 90 were called for the interview; about 40 were nominated and only about 30 will finally get it. Please pray that I’ll be one of those who get it, okay?

Episodical happiness

There’s little doubt that the best surprises are those that bring about an episodical happiness. The kind of surprises which are totally unexpected that one could not help but grin from ear to ear upon receiving them despite not feeling all that happy. An episodical happiness was what I experienced last Sunday.

Empty was the state I found my home in upon return from KLIA (with a detour to Putrajaya to get my car which was parked at my uncle’s place) since Mak and Ayah went visiting my aunts in Johor, and Abang, my younger brother, is seldom back home before midnight.

Baghdad, our dear cat was mewing at the front door, gesturing his hunger. Upon realising his plight for food, Baghdad’s mewing was joined by a chorus of other mewing by his sister Comel and Comel’s kittens – Basrah, Najaf and Fellujah. Kept them away from the front entrance and quickly brought in my luggage. Went to the kitchen to check the cat’s bowl, filled the two bowls with their food and opened the kitchen door to let them in. Played with the cats for a while, letting the kittens to be more familiar with me. 18- months old Baghdad and Comel are already familiar with everbody at home, but the same could not be said about the 3-months-old kittens. Among the three, sleek, all-black Fellujah is the least manja. (Note to self: Must pet and play with Fellujah more from now on…)

Unpacked the bag. Put all the dirty laundry in the laundry basket. Got all the keropok and air pencicah out of the bag. Kept the tapai in the fridge. Searched for something to eat in the fridge. Fruitless search led me to finally having a plate of Indomie goreng.

Wandered when Mak and Ayah would return from Johor while slowly consuming my instant noodle. Got the cats out of the house, took a look around the house to make sure that all doors and windows were securely locked. Thought to myself that it wouldn’t be too bad to be home alone as I could watch the recorded recent episodes of Jake 2.0, One Tree Hill and Gilmore Girls (re-run) undisturbed.

Opened my door, immediately noticed a parcel lying on my bed. Quickly switched on the lights and grabbed the brown parcel addressed to me, posted from Seremban.

I saw the Ujanailmu rubber stamp mark on the parcel and instantly felt a surge of happiness. I grinned as I tore the parcel open.

When I found out on artakus.net last week that Kota Arialun, the second book in Saga Artakusiad series could still be purchased online via Ujanailmu, I immediately made my order of it, along with a copy of Legenda Numerius, the latest Saga Artakusiad book. Since online purchases usually mean waiting for two weeks before the goods get delivered, it goes without saying that I was absolutely delighted to receive both books less than a week after I made my purchase.

Both books were individually wrapped, with a layer of bubble wrap surrounding them. The copy of Kota Arialun I received was not in mint condition, the cover had some whitish spots. Well, it was fine by me – so long as I get a copy of the book, that’s what matter most. Besides, the book had been over a decade old. But wait a minute – it is a part of the second print in 1992, not the first print of 1988. Apparently, Saga Artakusiad’s earlier books were reprinted after all. (Duh, well, okay, so I stand corrected…)

I thought I saw some scribble on the front page, so I took a closer look at it – oh my… The book was personally autographed by the author Ahmad Patria! Yokatta! That more than made up for the book’s substandard condition

I moved my attention to my own personal copy of Legenda Numerius. It was not autographed, but that’s okay. I did not expect it anyway, though it would have definitely been a bonus if it was autographed too.

My earlier plan was dismissed. Instead, I started reading Legenda Numerius (LN) right away. However, after a couple of days of staying awake late, I was too tired to read much, and fell asleep right after I programmed my video recorder to record the latest episode of The O.C.

I’m still reading it – just finished Chapter 03. Will come up with a review soon, insya Allah.

Three New Things

(for me, at least) … that I'd discovered in Kelantan last week. (I’ve only been to Kelantan three times so far – once in 1988, once in 1996 and last week in 2004… I just noticed the 8-year-interval during my recent trip though.)

1. Colourful telur dadar.
When Jue’s Majlis Khatam Quran was over, the makcik-makcik who took part in it each got to take back home a brown envelope containing some sedekah and a container filled with pulut kuning topped with telur dadar. Not a slice of the normal yellow omelette, but rather colourful thin long shreds of omelette, which reminded me of Chinese yee sang. One makcik invited me to try it. I did and thought that while the green or red stripes of fried egg did not taste that much different from the original yellow ones, they sure looked much more interesting!

2. Akok
I’ve heard of Akok (that special, rather limpy kuih made from mostly duck’s eggs) long ago. Now, I can testify that I kind of like it, provided it’s not too sweet. There was one stall in Salor, Pasir Mas which specialised on making just this kuih every morning and afternoon. So tasteful the Akok Salor that people often buy it in dozens rather than spending a mere ‘riyal’ (ringgit) or two. Jue’s wedding guests were lucky to be treated to this famous Akok Salor as dessert. To my delight, I discovered that there’s another version of not-too-sweet Akok – Akok Berlauk. Why it’s named Akok Berlauk beats me as I thought it resembles more a bahulu than an Akok with savoury fillings akin to beef serunding. Nice!

3. Kuih Semar
Jue bought two packets of this interesting kuih for me to take home (along with lots of keropok, air pencicah, buah salak and tapai pulut). A packet consisted of eight individually wrapped kuih semar made from lots of sugar and sagun. One must not, I repeat, MUST NOT open his or her mouth while chewing on a semar or else the sagun will scatter all over the place. Semars are often found in red or green outer layer of sort-of-crystallized sugar with white centre (sagun). Intriguing!

The essence of true friendship...

They said that our character is a reflection of the friends we keep.

As I began to think of my closest friends, I found that while we share some traits, or believe in similar principles or have common goals – I can’t quite pinpoint similar characters.

Ira who shares my liking for novels and Japanese drama is rather quiet and serious in nature, yet I am playful and could talk on and on about on and on…

Jue who apparently shared my childhood favorite dish of fried ikan kembong and kicap is an immaculate dresser and fuss about the smallest details, yet I am a simple dresser and had never sweat about small stuff…

Tan who shares my appreciation of Japanese food often considerately weighs the pros and cons of her next move, yet I prefer to take a day at a time and rather impulsive in nature.

There’s Aidil, my ex-schoolmate who’s my total opposite – prim and proper, gentle and alim – as opposed to mischievous and full-of-hoo-ha’s me. Our friendship is still going strong after over sixteen years of knowing each other.

There are Juz and Nita – two most pleasing and gentle friends I’ve ever known – yet ‘gentle’ would be one of the last adjectives anybody would use to describe me.

There are Masni, another ex-schoolmate and Yam, Masni’s best friend who are total opposites in time management and I would be some kind of a bridge between the two of them in that regards.

There’s Kal, my next-cubicle neighbour in my old office who could be the most patient officer in dealing with an extremely difficult boss, where as I’d never made it a secret that I disapproved of that particular superior.

There are others I missed mentioning here, who have a lot in differences (rather than in common) with me yet I consider them my trusty confidants and reliable friends.

I guess who ever that claimed that the essence of true friendship is to make allowances for one another's little lapses could not be that far from the truth.

The Inevitable Question

I’ll be going to Kota Bharu tonight insya Allah – just to be there for Jue as she is to be married tomorrow night, with the kenduri (reception) on Saturday. Jue have asked me to be her pengapit – the Malay version of bridesmaid - a long time ago. Hence, I’ve taken extra care to make sure that I won’t be held up by other obligations this weekend.

I have read somewhere that 80% of weddings all over the year occur between May and October. Well, in Malaysia however, it almost seems like 80% of weddings occur during school holidays. Jue’s kenduri will be held this weekend – but the groom’s reception will be next week, as school kids begin their one-week break. Jue have also asked me to be her pengapit during the groom’s kenduri next week.

This won’t be my first time as a pengapit, since I have experienced being a bidan terjun (last minute) pengapit before. Like western bridesmaid, a pengapit’s first duty is to complement and enhance the star of the show – the Bride. However, unlike western wedding that allows for a few bridesmaids – there’s only one pengapit for a Malay bride. Although a pengapit is rarely asked to plan and organize a bridal shower, she has to be with the Bride at all times during the whole ordeal – to calm the Bride’s nerves just before she’s pronounced as a wife (for some reasons or other – most of my friends always shed a tear or two just before the akad nikah), to be alert for the Tok Kadhi’s signal to take the Bride out from her room during the akad nikah session, to ensure that the Bride doesn’t move too fast to meet up the groom and hold his hands for the first time as husband and wife before the procession begins, to ensure that the Bride’s make-up is intact before, during and right after the bersanding (without the tepung tawar & what nots – more and more Malays are having the pelamin merely for photo shooting purposes), to organise the Bride for photo sessions, and the list goes on and on and on.

It’s common that the pengapit chooses her own dress, (perhaps to spare her from humiliating herself in a bad dress - at least the Mat Salleh bridesmaids get to wear bad dresses in a group…), but the bride will advise her on what to wear. In Jue’s case she has asked me to wear yellow, so that it’ll nicely match the baju melayu that will be worn by the groom’s pengapit (best man). Jue even took the fuss of making sure that her groom-to-be picked someone about my height to be his pengapit.

Thus, I bought some materials that I thought would meet Jue’s approval. Unlike me, Jue is an immaculate dresser, and I have no intention for her to complain later on that her wedding photos are put down by the presence of an ill-fitting, undistinguished baju pengapit. I seeked her opinion before sending the materials to my tailor and finally settled on having my material to be turned into a pair of long dress with a matching kebaya.

So, I’m basically prepared. I have a fair knowledge of what’s to be expected from a pengapit. I already bought a nice baju pengapit on my own. Got the plane tickets ready on my own. Bought two wedding gifts on my own. Yes, two – because I like giving something ‘extra’ for my girlfriends (that must be opened in private) in addition to the ‘normal’ publicly accepted gift.

Now, time to embrace myself and prepare to navigate intrusive questioning by ‘well-meaning’ strangers - on my own.

Well, I would normally join some other girlfriends to weddings or just bring along one of my young cousins as my company. The girls just relish the idea of dressing up, getting some nice bunga telur and a chance of meeting a bride. The chosen girl I picked to accompany me would return home to share with her sisters and other female cousins her experience of meeting ‘that gorgeous bride’. It’s a girl’s thing I supposed – one of the things I’ve missed on when I was a little girl since I grew up among brothers and male cousins.

Jue’s wedding will be the first that I’ll attend all on my own – another friend has promised to attend it, but she won’t be there throughout the whole akad nikah and kenduri sessions. Although I’ve met one of Jue’s sister once, and have no doubt that I can get along with the rest of the family well, I must confess that I’m not too keen to be subjected to some intrusive questioning. And I know that they are coming, maybe not from Jue’s immediate family members. But chances are, one way or another, I’ll meet some makcik-makcik who could not hold their tongues from asking that question…

Imagine - there I’ll be, attending to Jue’s needs. Getting a glass of water or passing some tissues to wipe the sweat away, making small talk to comfort her and one or the other makcik will come in the room to comment on how beautiful and how radiant the bride look. How they remember seeing Jue when she was still in diapers and look at her now – all grown up and getting married! How wonderful! They’ll embrace her while congratulating and wishing her all the best.

Then - they’ll turn their attention to me - “Ni kawan Jue?”
I’ll smile politely and nod my head.
“Dah kahwin?”
“Belum”
“Bila lagi?”

Grrr…. The answers vary according to my mood.

A few understanding makcik-makcik will stop at that.

But some could not help themselves from prodding further; they will ask whether I’m seeing anyone yet (they always have to throw in the yet). And they will go on to talk about the pros of getting married and raising a family while one is still young and all the 1001 reasons on why one should not wait too long to settle down.

And there I’ll be – nodding my head zombie-like and smiling a chalky smile, half listening and half thinking – of all the things I would love to say but won’t - in response to their statements.

I am happy to be there for Jue – to lend some support and to share a poignant moment in her life. I just hope I won’t have many encounters with such makcik-makcik that can make me feel of killing somebody – preferably the person asking stupid questions and imparting unwanted ‘well-meaning’ advice.

Any tips on how to handle such makcik effectively?

(Note: I'll return on Monday insya Allah. Till then, have a nice day everyday, everybody.)

Two notes...

Sunday saw me receiving two touching notes.

On early Sunday morning I sent a text message to Laila, my long time buddy - “Happy birthday and may Allah bless you always”.

I used to call up my friends on the morning of their birthday – sometimes to recite a poem, at other times, to sing altered versions of “Happy Birthday”, or simply to wish many happy returns. Nowadays, I just resort to mostly text messages, or sometimes, picture messages, to convey my wishes.

And it wasn't a big deal. After all, I’ve remembered Laila’s birthday since forever – her birth date would be considered as extremely lucky by many Chinese and Japanese; the 8th day of the 8th month.

I did not expect Laila to be so touched by the fact that an old friend actually remembered to wish her happy birthday. Laila’s reply though left no doubt that she was indeed very pleased –

“Tq so much for being such a compassionate friend… May Allah bless u 2!”

Imagine the surprise of being called a “compassionate friend” due to a simple birthday text message…

####

I reached home that Sunday evening at about six after a long, tiring over-three-hours journey by bus. Saw a piece of white paper on my bed, and it read:

“Kak,

Mak Tam was here. Pinjam your telekung. TQ.

(Signed)
P/S: Long time no see”

Mak Tam is my auntie by marriage. Ayah’s younger brother, Ayah Tam married her when I was about 8 years old. Among all my aunts, I’ve always been closest to Mak Tam – a high school teacher who could listen well and disperse some great advice.

Since Tok, my paternal grandma, was diagnosed with alzheimer a few years ago (in addition to her diabetes and heart problem) she has been moving from one place to another, staying with her children in some rotation arrangement. Most of the time though, she would be staying with my family, since Ayah as the eldest in the family, feels he should take extra responsibility in taking care of Tok. Otherwise, Tok could often be found staying with my auntie Nyah in Bangi or Ayah Tam in Sungai Buloh.

Whenever Tok is in Sungai Buloh, “tengok Tok” would be the perfect excuse for me to hang out at Ayah Tam’s place and spend time with Mak Tam and my cousins. I shared my latest adventures (or misadventures), showed her the latest photos, ranted about this and that - basically updating her with what's the latest in my life. In fact, Mak Tam has always been my main confidant in the family – I only began to confide more in Mak since she began her retirement last year. Prior to that, Mak Tam probably knew a lot more of the latest happenings in my life than my own mother did.

Anyway, the "long time no see" part is true, it has been a while since I last saw her. Three of her children will be sitting for major exams this year – and all of them had to be cajoled into studying. They will only do some serious studying and revision when Mak Tam is around, so unless it’s absolutely necessary, I tried not to go visit (more like kacau actually) her and my cousins.

Besides, I had been attending some meetings and seminars over the weekend – so we missed seeing each other when she and Ayah Tam came for their weekly visit to see Tok.

Finding her note on my bed after not seeing her for so long just made me realise that I need to see my extended family members more often. I’ve been missing a few kenduri’s, gatherings and what-nots due to some work obligations. Perhaps it won’t be a bad idea to just say 'hi' to my dearest aunt and her kids in Sungai Buloh one of these days…

#####

At the end of the day – most people won’t remember us for being hardworking officers who stay back long after the official office hours ended. But our loved ones – friends and family - will remember us for all the little irks, quirks and other tiniest details that make a world of difference to them, whether we realise it or not.

10 Painful Puns

Okay, okay, this may be another lame e-mail spin-off entry - but I kinda like it...

1. Two vultures board an airplane, each carrying two dead raccoons.The stewardess looks at them and says, "I'm sorry, Gentlemen. Only one carrion allowed per passenger."

2. Two boll weevils grew up in South Carolina. One went to Hollywood and became a famous actor. The other stayed behind in the cotton fields and never amounted to much. The second one, naturally, became known as the lesser of two weevils.

3. There were two Eskimos sitting in a kayak. They were cold so they lit a fire, and the craft sank. It only proved, once again, that you can't have your kayak and heat it, too.

4. A three-legged dog walks into a saloon in the Old West. He slides up to the bar and announces, "I'm looking for the man who shot my paw."

5. Did you hear about the Buddhist who refused Novocaine during a root canal? He wanted to transcend dental medication.

6. A group of chess enthusiasts checked into a hotel and were standing in the lobby discussing their recent tournament victories. After about an hour, the manager came out of the office and asked them to disperse. "But why?" they asked, as they moved off. "Because," he said,"I can't stand chess nuts boasting in an open foyer."

7. A woman has twins and gives them up for adoption. One of them goes to a family in Egypt and is named "Ahmal." The other goes to a family in Spain and they name him "Juan." Years later, Juan sends a picture of himself to his birth mother. Upon receiving the picture, she tells her husband that she wishes she also had a picture of Ahmal. Her husband responds, "They're twins! If you've seen Juan, you've seen Ahmal."

8. These friars were behind on their belfry payments, so they opened up a small florist shop to raise funds. Since everyone liked to buy flowers from the men of God, a rival florist across town thought the competition was unfair. He asked the good brothers to close down, but they would not. He went back and begged the friars to close. They ignored him. So, the rival florist hired Hugh MacTaggart, the roughest and most vicious thug in town to "persuade" them to close. Hugh beat up the friars and trashed their store, saying he'd be back if they didn't close up shop.Terrified, they did so, thereby proving that Hugh, and only Hugh, can prevent florist friars.

9. Mahatma Gandhi, as you know, walked barefoot most of the time,which produced an impressive set of calluses on his feet. He also ate very little, which made him rather frail and with his odd diet, he suffered from bad breath. This made him... what?
Answer: A super calloused fragile mystic hexed by halitosis.

10. And finally, there was the person who sent ten different puns to friends, with the hope that at least one of the puns would make them laugh.Unfortunately, no pun in ten did.

Help...

I need some help...

A few of my friends could never access my blog despite trying doing so through diffrent ways, at different times. A friend contacted Blogger Support and got a reply that went something like... " I have just gone to take a look at the blog you've specified and was able to view it without problems. This may have been a temporary problem that has since been resolved."

I contacted Blogger Support too and got a reply that advised me to make sure that my friends are using the correct address to access my site. I am very sure that they are using the correct address - but they always got an Error message. I even asked them to check if they could access other *.blogspot.com blogs and I was told that they had no such problem with others. It's just mine. And while they could access other blogs, they still could not access my blog via other blog's link.

Anybody mind telling me where did it go wrong and how my friends can overcome this problem?

Thanks

Closed Book vs Magazine Type

Well, according to a senior officer in my office, I am a closed book type. When I asked him to explain what he actually meant by that, he hesitated and fumbled, not knowing exactly how to describe what he meant.

I then asked him why he called me a closed book type.

He referred to another girl in my office to point out the difference.

“You see, she’s the ‘magazine’ type. Attractive and lots of people will pick up a magazine over a book. She’s approachable and guys prefer that. On the other hand, you are the 'closed book' type. Granted, a book could be very much interesting than a magazine, with good plots, good characters, could make one cry, could make one laugh, and a treasure to behold. But in comparison to fun, colourful and eye-catching magazines - books, especially closed books, are rather aloof. Unapproachable.”

Unapproachable?

“The fact that you are tall for a Malay girl means that shorter guys normally wouldn’t approach you. Then, look at how you dress. Your choice of colours is akin to some makcik-makcik. Your tudungs are too demure. Okay, I know your parents have trained you well to stick to lacklustre colours, but it all add up to make you a 'closed book' type.”

Really? Does closed book equates introvert? Because I know for sure that I’m definitely an extrovert.

So, he went on to cite two other female senior officers as examples – both of them in their 40’s and successful in their careers, but Mrs Ru is an attractive mother of four while gentle and shy Ms. Ro has never been married.

“My dear, to put it simply - you are like Mrs Ru in the packaging of Ms. Ro”

Huh?

“You are smart, confident, have a good sense of humour, with a strong family background, and any guy would be lucky to be with you but how many do you think would want to try their luck with you when right from the start your appearance are sending messages to shoo them away? I think you’d better change your wardrobe, change some style, make yourself more presentable, more approachable’

I smiled, promised to ponder on his words and see what I can do about it.

It’s true that I don’t require a big spotlight on me at all times to convince myself of my real value. I’m flexible when it comes to dressing – occasionally I relish getting a compliment on my baju kurung or kebaya, and other times I enjoy being the social bystander, appreciating others. While that senior officer claimed that my colours are too makcik-makcik, another colleague criticized my clothes’ colours as too striking. The one time this colleague of mine complimented me on my clothing was when I wore a blue pair of baju kurung matched with a brown tudung that would definitely be called demure by my senior officer. I guess, since his office is on a different floor, we have never crossed path on the days I wore livelier colours of yellow, green, pink or purple.

The truth is, I’d never given much thought to what I wear. Back in school, I was still wearing huge plastic-frame glasses when chic metal-frames became the ‘in’ thing. I started wearing nicer tudung when I was in form three – two years late compared to most of my classmates. I used to wear Mak’s baju kurung to prep classes and that was why most of my baju kurung were ill-fitted during my early secondary school days. But they did not bother me, had never bothered me – why not, if they could save Mak from buying new clothes and instead used the money for other purposes?

Still, my “tak kisah” stance about my dressing did not automatically make me a wallflower in school. I was involved in lots of associations and clubs’ activities and teachers remember me long after I left school. I had never been the quiet type no matter how demure my clothing was. In fact, even after I entered college, the university, the office – somehow or another, I would always find myself in some leadership position, be it as the Chairperson of this and that or merely a Committee member of this and that. A friend once described me as smart, straightforward and sassy - a natural born leader. And that has nothing to do with how I dress.

While I missed out on receiving notes and gifts from secret admirers when I was in school, my experiences later in life more than made up for it. The thing I appreciate most about guys who approached, or tried to approach me, is the fact that they could appreciate my personality and characters, that they are not intimidated by me and they are able to look beyond my not-so-good sense of dressing.

All things considered – I guess I would rather be an interesting, note-worthy, thought-provoking treasure of a book, closed or otherwise, than merely an entertaining, short living attention-grabbing magazine. Nevertheless, I guess it won’t be wrong to take my senior officer’s advice into consideration when I’m sure he meant well… Maybe I can compromise a little bit. I still want to wear what I like and feel comfortable wearing. I am not, and had never been a person dictated by the latest fashions or the ‘in’ trends. So, even if some changes are inevitable, even if I need to increase some flexibility in dressing up – some areas would remain non-negotiable. Otherwise, along with losing my personal sense of dressing, I might lose a part of myself.

Now, if only I could get a consultant on how to change the cover of this book effectively…

A beautiful sunset...

When I was in Port Dickson last month, I managed to take a stroll down the beach. A quiet moment alone. I think I have heard that no matter what time of the year, a stroll on the beach is always good for our soul.

I enjoyed my stroll along Teluk Kemang beach in PD. But not as much as I enjoyed wading with naked feet along the Damai Laut beach just in the edge of the water with a few girlfriends.

. . .

. . .

After our stroll, I joined Afaf in her snapshooting spree of a glorious sunset, taking simple pleasure from watching the sun going down...

. . .

... down

. . .

... down

. . .

"We were made to enjoy music, to enjoy beautiful sunsets, to enjoy looking at the billows of the sea… Human beings are actually created for the transcendent, for the sublime, for the beautiful, for the truthful... and all of us are given the task of trying to make this world a little more hospitable to these beautiful things."

~ Desmond Tutu ~

. . .

*pics courtesy of Afaf (and her relatively new Canon Ixus)

For my fellow Aurorans

I was rather pleased to discover my blog mentioned in 'Olai Tannon' at artakus.net. (entry 3773) today.

So, just to save my fellow Aurorans some time, my entry on discovering the return of Saga Artakusiad could be read here.

And yes, I supposed I am "a very, very happy Auroran" ...*grins*

Just because...

(Writer’s note: The first draft of this blog also first appeared on a piece of Damai Laut’s Swiss Garden Resort & Spa writing pad, written during one of the many presentation sessions throughout the 3-days Strategic Planning Session a.k.a. SPS)

There was this one cute heartthrob I met during the SPS. Tall, evenly-distanced brown eyes, not-so-straight nose, spocky-like ears and a really nice smile. I noticed him right after the bus arrived at the hotel, and he appeared to be waiting for the very same bus, greeted a few people I didn't know. However, when I did not see him during the first presentation session later that night, I thought he might be with another group and not ours.

The next day though, he was seated not far from me in the second session, so I realised that he was with my office's group after all. I later learned that he’s an engineer with the Water Supply Department. (Since I’m in the Communications division, I didn’t know that many people from the Water Supply Department or the Sanitation Department, save for some girls I interacted with and met in Puspanita’s meeting.) It went without saying that I was rather pleased to have a ‘catalyst’ to prevent me from ‘tidur duduk’ throughout the SPS.*winks*

Noticing my sudden interest, a friend seated next to me asked, “Are you interested in him?”

I was surprised to be asked such question – I had no idea whether Mr Heartthrob was single or not, whether we share anything in common or not, whether he was a nice person or not… All I knew was just that I liked looking at him. That was all.

Just because I like one guy’s look, it doesn’t automatically means that I am interested in him. Maybe I would welcome the opportunity to know him better, but with guys, it is often better to stick to the old saying – “don’t judge a book by its cover”.

Just because I approve of a guy’s sense of dressing and I appreciate his physical attributes, it doesn’t necessarily means that I would like to be with him. After all, I went out with cuter guys than Mr Heartthrob before – but after getting to know them, I decided that they were not worth it. With guys, it is more important to know him first before I can decide whether or not he’s worthy of being admired and respected. It is more important to know how trustworthy, honest and sincere he is, rather than entertaining the thought of how cool it would be to be with someone good looking. After all, sooner or later, good looks faded, but virtues often remain.

Physical attributes are just what seem to be from the outer appearance, where else what counts more is what is inside a person. Because the most important part of a person is his or her heart.

That’s what counts most.

Muhibbah incident on a bus

(Writer’s note: The first draft of this blog first appeared on a piece of Damai Laut’s Swiss Garden Resort & Spa writing pad, written during the first of many presentation sessions throughout the 3-days Strategic Planning Session)

The bus was supposed to leave at 2.30 p.m.

We finished doing some last minute adjustments on some presentation slides at about 2.00 p.m. The half hour left just enough time for me to perform my solat jamak Zohor & Asar and submitted a quick entry on my blog – but no time for lunch.

I did not have a proper breakfast because Mr Teo – my former SUB who is now a TKSU- asked me to accompany him to meet the KSU to discuss some outstanding matters involving some telcos at 8.30 a.m. Both the junior and senior officers who are actually handling the matters were not around then, so since I was the one who previously prepared a report on this matter, Mr Teo decided to seek my help.

Right after the meeting – I had to assist my fellow junior officers with last minute corrections on our Division’s presentation slides. In between lintang pukang running everywhere to get information on this and that, I managed to stop at my clerk’s place and had a kaya bun. That, plus a mug of plain water was all I had before the bus left the office.

I was hoping that the bus would stop at any R&R area so that we could buy some snack - we would only be reaching Damai Laut after more than three and a half hours. A long trip and I was hungry right from the very beginning. The bus almost stopped in Rawang, but there was a minor accident involving a car and a one-ton lorry at the entrance of the Petronas station, obstructing our bus from entering it – so the driver drove on without stopping.

I then hoped that the bus would stop in Tapah R&R area. However, the driver chose to go to Damai Laut via the Bidor exit, so we did not pass by Tapah at all.

In between napping, catching glimpses of Jet Li and DMX on “Cradle 2 the Grave” video shown on the bus’s TV and reading a few pages of “13 Secrets for speaking fluent Japanese”, I was praying that we would stop some place where I could get a filling snack. My stomach started to growl, so I opened up an individual pack of 6-pieces calcium crackers that I managed to grab before leaving my desk.

Apparently I was not the only one who wished that the bus would stop some place to get some snack. Mohana, sitting next to me, across the aisle, was also disappointed to learn that the bus would not be stopping in any R&R area since she was feeling rather hungry. By then I had opened an inidividual pack of 2-pieces butter cookies given to me by Miss Chan and was about to pop the last piece inside my mouth. I immediately stopped and offered her that cookie – which she gladly accepted.

I confessed that I too haven’t eaten anything that day and was rather starved myself. Perhaps she overheard us, Miss Chan, who was seated in front of me, turned back and offered, “A.Z., would you like to have this scone?”

That scone definitely looked tempting – with lots of raisins and fruity bits. I turned to Mohana and thought she might like the scone. “Miss Chan, maybe you want to give it to Mohana. I’m alright, don’t worry.” (Okay, maybe I wasn’t telling the whole truth – but I really thought that the under weighed Mohana deserved it more.)

“Mohana, would you like to have this scone?, ” Miss Chan turned her attention to Mohana.

“No thanks, it’s okay. You can give it to A.Z,” Mohana refused politely.

“No, Miss Chan, just give it to Mohana. She’s starving,” I insisted.

Miss Chan did not waste any more time arguing with us. She straightaway put the scone on Mohana’s lap. I could tell that Miss Chan was feeling a bit hungry too. Earlier in Rawang, she too confessed that she hoped that the bus would stop – later on, I noticed she munched on some butter cookies. Still, she was selfless enough to offer her scone to Mohana and I when she overheard our declarations of feeling hungry.

“Hey, at least I already had some cendol for lunch. Here A.Z., let’s share this,”
Mohana broke the scone in two and gave me one part.

I smiled. A piece of scone being offered by Miss Chan to me, but passed to Mohana on my insistence and Mohana in turn, shared it with me.

A truly ‘muhibbah’ incident.

Free Gifts

Got this from another friend and thought it might be worth sharing....

Eight Gifts That Don't Cost a Cent
In the economy of the heart, these presents are priceless.
This simple checklist can help measure how you are nurturing your relationships.

The Gift of Listening
But you must really listen. Don't interrupt, don't daydream, don't plan your response. Just listen.

The Gift of Affection
Be generous with appropriate hugs, kisses, pats on the back and handholds. Let these small actions demonstrate the love you have for family and friends.

The Gift of Laughter
Clip cartoons. Share articles and funny stories. Your gift will say, "I love to laugh with you."

The Gift of Solitude
There are times when we want nothing better than to be left alone. Be sensitive to those times and give the gift of solitude to others.

The Gift of a Favor
Everyday, go out of your way to do something kind.

The Gift of a Written Note
It can be a simple "Thanks for the help" note or a full sonnet. A brief, handwritten note may be remembered for a lifetime.

The Gift of a Compliment
A simple and sincere, "You look great in red," "You did a super job," or "That was a wonderful meal" can make someone's day.

The Gift of a Cheerful Disposition
The easiest way to feel good is to extend a kind word to someone.

Have a nice rest-of-the week and weekend everybody...
I'll be away - attending (and kerja kuat for) some Strategic Planning Session in Perak... Will be back on Monday, insya Allah.

In Support of Tak Nak Campaign - or not

Somehow able to sense that I wasn't feeling quite alright today, Pak Abas - a senior officer who's now sitting comfortably in a high ranking position in another ministry - sent me a joke through email to cheer me up.

I've received similar e-mail before, minus the photo. While I prefer intelligent jokes, getting toilette jokes like this could also make me smile. It did - just like Pak Abas intended.



It's been a loooong day today - almost 9.00 p.m. and am still at the office
Hmm alahai...

Have I been reading the best books?

As cliché as it sounds, I must confess that I cannot live without books. Most friends of mine returned from UK with some Queen Anne silverware pieces, or some crystal vases and deco items, or Corelle dinnerware, or at least – the latest in audio stereo components.

I returned home with two large boxes of books - bought through book club, in car boot sale or otherwise.

There are three bookshelves in my room. All filled to the brim – and I need to add a fourth real soon. There’s one next to my bed, filled with hardcovers. Next to my TV, there’s one filled with my current and all-time favourite (read: “Learn Japanese” books, Chicken Soup for the Soul series, motivational books). Then, at the far end of the room, next to the door of the balcony, there’s the biggest shelf, five tiers storing all the rest – my teenage collection of Hardy Boys’ Casefiles, my meagre collection of Malay books, precious collection of Harry Potter series, mumbo jumbo “How-to” books, the X-Files coffee table book, 500 Amazing Facts for Children, Oxford Dictionary on Quotations and lots and lots of English novels by various writers.

Last night as I rummaged through the five-tier shelf to look for my Saga Artakusiad books – yes, I rummaged, because one tier could hold up to three horizontal layers of books – I stopped and thought for a while. They say that books help in widening your horizon, increasing your knowledge; that books are the treasured wealth of the world and could be the most generous inheritance – but have I learned enough? Mark Twain once pointed out that the man who does not read good books has no advantage over the man who cannot read them. Looking at the whole lot of novels I own, it made me wonder if I had actually been reading good books, if I actually have some advantage over others who do not read or possess as many books.

Unlike my collection which mostly comprises novels, Mak fills up an antique cabinet downstairs with some real gems – collection of hadeeth in Sahih Bukhari and Sahih Muslim, Imam Shafie’s "Al Umm", Imam Malik’s "Muwatta’", Imam Ghazali’s "Ihya’ Ulumuddin", "Fiqh As Sunnah" and all - which I regretfully admit have never really been read by me. I’d only browsed through them when I need to check up on some facts – but apart from those moments, I have never read them thoroughly, like I did with all the novels stored in my room.

In her own room, Mak keeps and builds her own library of contemporary books on Islam and the world, consisting among others - “The Great Deception”, “International Jews”, “Holy war and Unholy Terrors” and “The Fundamental of Tawheed”. It was Mak who introduced me to Syed Qutb’s “Maalim Fit Tariq” (Milestones) when I was in college, and I was immediately awed by his explanation of jihad, his take on the Islamic brotherhood and his sense of freedom. Despite my preference for contemporary books, despite it being written in the 60s, the book could still awake something inside me - almost as if it talks to me - every time I pick it up for another read.

Mak noted that I lack in reading wordly, non-fiction books and harped on me a few times, “Kak, I know that you do read a lot. I know that you spend a lot of money on books. But, have you been reading the best books?”

Well, I know I have learned a lot of the legal world, not only through my law lectures but also through descriptions of the legal world as found in John Grisham’s or Steve Martini’s books. I can definitely vouch that I have learned some medical terms by reading novels by Robin Cook. I was first introduced to British constitutions and politics via Jeffrey Archer’s novels. And what little ideas I have about extraordinaire/spies/private investigators/detectives were mostly drawn from my reading of Dean Koontz, James Patterson, Lee Child, Nelson DeMille and all. Oh – and like most other girls, I read romance too – mostly by Julie Garwood, Nicholas Sparks, Elizabeth Lowell, Jude Deveraux and Judith McNaught. And yes, I do read some classic – A Tale of Two Cities being my top favourite.

I supposed it won’t be totally wrong for me to admit being a self-professed well-read person. But last night, in the midst of novels and how-to books, I questioned myself, “Have I been reading the best books? Have I been reading the good ones?”

And I found that I could not give myself a truly honest and satisfactory answer – as yet.

A reason to look forward into the future with excitement

Nafis, my office colleague knocked on my door early this morning.

“You used to read the Saga Artakusiad books, right?”

“Yes, I have read all six. I have three of the latter books and even though I have searched high and low for them, I’ve never managed to get my hands on the first three…” I was about to launch into a long monologue of how nuts I was about that particular series when Nafis cut me short

“Well, I have something to show you…”
He grinned, disappeared for a while and returned with a white, not-so-thin book in his hand.

“Taraa…” He passed the book to me…

Oh my god! Oh my god! OH. MY. GOD!

It’s Saga Artakusiad’s seventh instalment!

Saga Artakusiad is alive and re-kicking! After over a decade of waiting – Ahmad Patria is back with “Legenda Numerius”, continuing the story of Artakus and his Arkus where he last left off in “Pedang Aurora”.

It turned out that Nafis’s girlfriend knows Ahmad Patria in person and bumped into him by chance during the book’s launch in KLCC last Saturday. She has always been fond of “Abang Pat” as her senior in silat but had no idea whatsoever that “Abang Pat” has a legion of readers who simply, honestly love his Saga Artakusiad series. The lucky girl got a personally autographed (complete with his phone number) copy of “Legenda Numerius” from the author. However, since she does not dig Saga Artakusiad, Nafis get to treat that autographed copy as his own.

“I thought you might have known about it. There were hundreds of his true fans – many of them donning t-shirts with some lines from his book- 'Untuk menjadi Artakus - hati mesti cekal, jiwa mesti kental'. Anyway, I don’t know that many girls who dig fantasy sci-fi genre and I remembered you admitting that you like Saga Artakusiad, so I know you might be happy to learn about the new book.”

Oh yes - I am happy. Deliriously so. I almost jumped up and down in my office as I stared in half-disbelief at the book I clutched in my own hands!

It's true that I don’t know many girls who are into Saga Artakusiad. But it was Ida, who sat next to me in class, who first introduced me to “Permata Aurorius” when we were fourteen or fifteen. She was also the one who loaned me the second and third instalments of the series – “Kota Arialun” and “Kembar Artakus”. I bought the latter three myself– “Petua Azkram”, “Puteri Alindalia” and “Pedang Aurora” - when I was in college. I even bought Spesimen Alpha – a compilation of Malay sci-fi short stories by Ahmad Patria, but somehow those stories did not touch me the way Saga Artakusiad did.

To those who had never heard of it before, think of Saga Artakusiad as Lord of the Rings-meet-Dungeons and Dragons – a fantasy sci-fi written in Malay with Artakus as the main character, leading the good (Aurorans) in battling the bad (Morroks). Although it is admittedly a story inspired by Lord of the Rings, Saga Artakusiad is unique since there was no other Malay writer who had written such work prior to its birth. When it was first published – most other young writers still preferred writing stories on love, friendship and as such. Ahmad Patria was different, his books uniquely his own – and like all other unique series (although it might not be on similar scale as enjoyed by authors of Lord of the Rings or Harry Potter), he began getting a strong-albeit-rather-quiet followers.

“I think you would have enjoyed the launching. Hundreds of fans came to show support – many of them donning t-shirt with the famous line from his book "Untuk menjadi Artakus, hati mesti cekal, jiwa mesti kental""

Nafis told me how humble Ahmad Patria is in person, despite having a Sasterawan Negara as a father (which could be both a blessing and some sort of a ‘curse’ – the way Hizairi felt about being born in a family of writers), despite having thousands of fans waiting breathlessly for the sequel in his Saga Artakusiad series. How he treated every person with respect and patience. How simple and relaxed he seemed despite all the attention he got. How committed and determined he appeared during his explanation of his visions and plans for the whole Saga Artakusiad series.

And I – a real fan of the series - missed the whole launch thingy!!!

“Why didn’t you call me? I would have asked you to straight away grab and buy a copy for me.” Nafis shrugged.

And I would too. After endless and fruitless search of finding the first three books, I have no intention of repeating the same search for his seventh book. And since the seventh book is not published by a major publisher (his previous books were published by Dewan Bahasa dan Pustaka, but not one title had ever been reprinted, for reasons known only to the author), I must admit that I do feel a bit afraid of not finding "Legenda Numerius" ever on any bookstore shelf.

“You can always borrow mine after I’m done with it,” Nafis offered.

No, I don’t want to just read it. I WANT to own it. I NEED to own it.

“Try check it out at Kinokuniya. They might have it in store since he did the launching in connection with Kinokuniya"

That's it. I'm definitely going to Kinokuniya. Still, after ten years of waiting – I think it can wait another day...

*03 August 2004 - Additional note: I rummaged through my book shelf last night - just to check on my collection of Saga Artakusiad books. I had forgotten all about it - but it turned out that I do own a copy of "Kembar Artakus". My relief was apparent in the note scribbled under my name in the first page which read - finally I got my hand on one of the earlier Saga Artakusiad series. Now I remember buying it in a Closing Down sale in Pusat Bandar Damansara's DBP in 1999, a few months after my return from UK.