Everyone is fighting a hard battle

He sounded a bit bitter when he told me that one of his sisters might not be back to attend an important family function.

“Nak seribu daya, tak nak seribu dalih. If money is the real reason, I won’t mind letting her use my own money first. But no, she asked for this function to be postponed as though everyone must cater to her needs.”

“Well, money might not be an issue to you, but she might look at things differently…”

“I know she doesn’t want to attend the function, but I can’t buy her lame excuses. At least my brother who’s teaching in Terengganu gave me a valid reason for not being able to make it because the function is held on a Sunday and that’s a working day in Sunday and he can’t afford taking too many days off. She though, is not living that far and it won’t cost that much for her to return and this is a really important family function, yet she told me she won’t be able to attend it until after she got her salary. What kind of excuse is that?”

He sounded really, really frustrated. He came back all the way from abroad to attend a similar gathering in honour of this particular sister a few years back and found it difficult to accept that she won’t be attending this function in his honour due to ‘money problem’.

On the other hand, I had a feeling that it might just went deeper than ‘money problem’. This particular sister had introduced him to a girl in her neighbourhood. He befriended the girl, and even agreed when his family asked him to ask for her hand in marriage. But just before they became formally engaged, he had a change of heart and stopped his mother from sending the engagement ring to the girl’s house. That incident of course really, really hurt the sister’s feeling.

Quietly, I remarked, “Look, I know how important this function is to you. I know you would be happy to have all your siblings present during the function. But you may want to consider that there might be some bitterness on your sister’s part after what you did. Yes, I do know that you feel strongly that the girl was not the one for you and you have more right to decide who you want to be with. But imagine how embarrassed she must be when she was the one who introduced the two of you in the first place. She must had said a lot of nice things about you to that girl – but in the end, after what took place, she must have felt mortified by your decision.”

He kept quiet for a while, then he changed the topic.

He has his own battle to fight. So does his sister.

I supposed Plato made a valid point when he reminded us to “be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.

#####

On another note, I’ll be away – attending a team building course in Pulau Redang – until Sunday. Am very excited for this is the first time I’ll be going to a nice island in the East Coast. Can’t wait to try out snorkelling!!! And we’ll be doing some jungle tracking too… Bestnye… bestnye…

Thinking Outside the Box

Here's a classic e-mail that I've enjoyed reading a few years ago - and enjoyed re-reading recently.

A Thinking Test

You are driving along on a wild, stormy night. You pass by a bus stop, and you see three people waiting for the bus:

1. An old lady who is sick and about to die.

2. An old friend who once saved your life.

3. The perfect man or woman you have been dreaming about.

Which one would you choose to pick up, knowing that there could only be one passenger in your car? This is a moral/ethical dilemma that was once actually used as part of a job application. You could pick up the old lady because she needs to get to a hospital right away; or you could take the old friend because he/she once saved your life, and this would be the perfect chance to pay him/her back. However, you may never be able to find your perfect dream lover again.

The candidate who was hired (out of 200 applicants) had no trouble coming up with his answer. He simply answered: "I would give the car keys to my old friend, and let him take the lady to the hospital. I would stay behind and wait for the bus with the woman of my dreams."

Sometimes, we gain more if we are able to give up our stubborn thought limitations and think outside the box.

Moral: You are not always the victim in life; most of the time you are the victor looking at the situation from the wrong view! The view is yours to choose.

- Author Unknown

Gmail Invites

I've got 6 Gmail invites to give away.

And I'm in need of a'la Chicken Soup subjects to blog about.

So those interested in getting a free 1 gig e-mail account, just leave your suggestion(s) in the comment box - with your name and e-mail address (if possible try to avoid using Yahoo address...)

Most interesting 6 suggestions will get the invites, insya Allah.

UPDATE:

Dear Readers,

So far only one person who has actually contacted me via e-mail to give her suggestion. Thanks Kit - you've definitely earned it ;-)

I supposed it must be quite a daunting task to come up with a'la Chicken Soup topic, eh? So, I'm changing the task - just leave me a line of quotation that really moved you in the comment box, with your name and address...

5 quotations that is able to really touch me too will get the invites.

Long lasting words

I used to know a guy who called everybody “Darling” – the sweet receptionist, the young clerks, model-like secretaries, and cute female officers.

Since most people presume that I’m of rather serious nature on first meetings, he only started calling me “darling” after a few months of knowing me. No big deal really – but I did asked him not to address me with a supposed term of endearment when it means nothing at all. He immediately stopped calling me ‘darling’ and resorted back to address me by my name.

I guess when some priceless words get to be so easily and casually uttered by someone – somehow they lose the special meaning they were supposed to carry. It is flattering to be wooed and courted with sweet nothings – but when words that carry great significance are uttered so easily after only a short period of time of knowing each other - there’s a hollow feeling to those words. Like they mean nothing at all.

I know sometimes love could happen in an instance, or after a mere day, week, or a month of knowing someone. I know that right now I might be developing some deep feelings for someone who’s obviously nuts about me. But when he confessed his feelings in words that I value highly – I could not reciprocate.

Flattered as I was, I could not help feeling as though those words came too easily out of his mouth – and those that came too easily normally does not mean that much. Worse – they might not be long lasting.

Call me old-fashioned, but I would rather wait until after I got married, to be told of how much I’m cherished, and adored, and loved. Call me a hopeless romantic, but if given a choice, I would rather go through a long and slow courtship – only it must be one that will last for once and always. With words that will last just as long.

Annual Telekung Laundry Service

This year, like the past three years since I started joining this particular Ministry, I had been asked (again) to assist in organising the Malaysia ICT Week (an effort started as Asean Communications and Multimedia Expo – but had been upgraded to Malaysia ICT Week in 2002 as it began to comprise more ICT related events and exhibitions)

Like the past few years, the main event had once again been held in an international exhibition and convention centre in Seri Kembangan. Like the past few years, many junior officers had to be in attendance at the exhibition centre from morning till night on the day before the Official Opening Ceremony and all day long in the exhibition centre on the actual opening day. Like the past few years, we all had to make use of the small and stuffy surau at the end corner of the second floor.

“Kau bawak balik basuh la telekung-telekung ni A.Z. Aku rasa memang orang sini tak basuh – cuma kau je yang basuh setahun sekali, “ Sal suggested.

I took five pairs of telekung back home last year – bleached them, washed them with hot water, treated them with extra softener, got them nicely pressed and returned them back to the surau on the following day. I did exactly the same thing this year – that night when we had to be there for the rehearsal and last minute preparation, I brought back five pairs of telekung home to be ‘serviced’ accordingly.

A friend called as I was about to soak and bleach the not-so-white and stained telekungs. I told him what I was doing and his response was, “aikk, buka kedai dobi pulak ke?”

I know many would have thought what I did was just a bit strange. I know it’s quite unusual to find somebody taking back some telekungs from a public surau just to get them cleaned and pressed and brought them back to the surau the next day. It’s none of my responsibility and people would have thought that it would be the exhibition centre’s duty to keep the telekung clean.

Perhaps, I’ve read too many Chicken Soup books and was simply inspired by some stories which encouraged me to do some free ‘khidmat masyarakat’. Perhaps I just felt like it won’t cost me much to get the telekung cleaned but thought that clean telekung could make a lot of difference for the small-and-stuffy public surau users. Perhaps I was hoping that my little deed would in turn encourage my colleagues to carry out similar deed elsewhere.

Or perhaps I was merely seeking the satisfaction of hearing one surau user making an innocent remark to her friend (who obviously had no idea about my labour the previous night) “Bersih kan telekung kat sini, bukan senang nak jumpa telekung bersih kat surau awam”.

If only they have seen how filthy the soaked water was…

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.)