Tale Of Precaution & Reminder

This is a tale of a little girl and a little boy who grew up to become somebody unexpected. This little girl came from a reasonably big family with an almost deprived background. This little boy came from a family which was while not poor, this family was not well-to-do either. Both of them were smart and hard-working. They worked really hard and they grew up to be physicians, specialists in different fields, to-be-exact. The boy turned into one of the few specialists in his field in his country, Malaysia (ooops, I'm giving away clues).

To be the best in what he do, this boy got the rare chance to further his study in the UK way back then. At that point, he met this little girl in med school in his home country, broke his previous engagement (yes he was engaged when he was merely a high school boy, a testament of his strong will) and proceed to marry this wonderful little girl, a young girl in her cusp of womanhood. By the time both of them went to the UK to further their respective studies, they were rewarded with their own wonderful little boy, their firstborn.

Fast-forward around 25 years or so later, both of them are blessed with 6 healthy, beautiful and intelligent children, 5 older ones being boys and youngest was a blessing of all blessings, an adorable little girl with the most beautiful curls. The oldest 4 proceed to study in UK in various fields, from engineering to accounting and medicine. The eldest met his future wife in one of the top schools in UK and marry her and now live happily in KL with 2 beautiful little children.

And these 2 little boy and little girl who grew up to their potentials are successful in building their beautiful family with a very blessed background. The now live in a very beautiful house with their own pool and 3 house maids and they owned more than 4 luxury cars most people can't afford to have and 2 high-end condominium units. They traveled to the UK and US for a month at the end of the year and are in want of nothing. They live the life of the selected fews in Malaysia. To top these all up, they were awarded a title a few years back.

This tale started here. What do people like these people, who are so blessed, want the most in the world? They already have more than most people. There is an adage, 'the more you have, the more you want' that fits them to a T. They should be happy, well at least contented, living the life they have. But no. No. They need to show how lucky, how rich, how educated, how luxurious their life is. Yes. In the moment of epiphany, they were blessed with this great insight that they have to rub their blessings in the faces of those who are less fortunate. Yes, this will bring them super happiness that seems to allude them in their adult lives.

The man who lived to his potentials are now becoming a rude, conscienceless, rude (did I already mentioned this before?), stuck-up prig. His nose is now so high, it is touching the sky. He looked down on people's misfortunes, and with his wealth, instead of helping, he gave people his dose of reality medicine by giving stupendously stupid lectures of making-mistakes bla-bla-bla (really, when one is already down in the dumps, one is very much aware how big one's mistakes are already). And the lectures end there, no other help forthcoming, no sire! That's how life is. His motto is, 'everyone for himself'. God created us to live in our own cocoon, never interacting, never helping another person who is also called a human being.

Now, remember that this man used to study in the land of the Caucasians (he revered them) of all Caucasians. Surprise, surprise, he is now unable to speak his mother-tongue, the Malay language. Forget it that he was brought up in all Malay, Boyan to be exact, household for more than 25 years. Forget it that he lived among this so-called Malays (Boyans again). Forget it that he used to lived in Malaysia for 20 odd years, the land filled with population of Malays who speak mostly Malay. Forget it that he probably lived not more than 5 years or so in UK in his late 20s or early 30s, a period of life when one cannot adopt to a new language like a native. It is quite impossible for one to speak a new language, in this case English, like we're born with it. Yes, one can speak this second language fluently but one will still retain our original accent and the first language is the most natural language one can speak. Excepting special circumstances that would not be delved into now.

This man cannot speak Malay. Can you believe it or not? I lived in New Zealand for 5 years. My closest friends are mostly the locals and international people. I still cannot speak in New Zealand accent, believe me. I can imitate. But I cannot speak English in that accent. So, how come this man cannot speak his own mother-tongue, you tell me? This is a classical case of a Malay saying, an idiom really, of 'kacang lupakan kulit' or 'the peanut forgetting its shell'. Translated: a person who forgot his own background. He forgot that he was brought up by a mother who cannot read nor write. He forgot that he was educated earlier in Malaysia which first language is Malay. He simple forgot.

-More to come, the story of the boy who forgot, the girl who is filled with envy and the family who has everything.-

News From The LaLa-Land

Lately I've been avoiding the news. General news, that's what I meant. I'm becoming one of those people who are losing touch from the world as I grow more distant from society. Okay. That's a bit of a mouthful. Seriously, I love where I am going right now, after all the drama these past few years. However, my social life is getting more and more pathetic (not that it was stellar before or I'm anywhere near the title 'Social-Animal of the Year'). I did used to have a life.

I go out with my friends every now and then for brunch or lunch or dinner or what-ever-as-long-as-I-eat. I catch up and gossip once in a while. I missed Dora, Yaya, Evie, Joyce, Nia and Fazan. I missed talking and gabbing about everything and nothing. Lately, it's nothing. Don't get me wrong, I still see Put once in a while, but it's been a while now. Exam is looming so every bit of energy is focused on studying and preparing. I missed my old life sometimes.

That's veering off the main point of this whole thing. I read the news (actually I was told by Jaja and the DJ of the morning show) that this stupid Malay guy who killed his wife, stuff her in a closet (I think) and proceed to have stupid monkey sex in front of the said-closet with his stupid idiotic slutty girlfriends/mistress. Apparently the maid saw/knew about this but was too afraid to come forward as she was threatened by the homicidal couple. And as you know, being a foreigner in a foreign land without absolute protection, that doesn't help the case at all, so this said-maid scrambled off as soon as she could, before the trial. Thus, this stupid fucker was freed yesterday. I got really angry. Like crazy ape angry.

I don't know why the news get to me so much lately. Every single piece of news become so personal and I am emotional invested. That's why I put off reading the news if I could (since I become so crazy busy, it's easier to do so). So, I'm stuck in the La-La land for now (land of my own orbit distance and in my own mind). Somehow, it doesn't sound so bad, once in a while.

P/S: I swear I'll kill this wife-murderer and his cheap mistress if I see them. I heard he lived close by my place. Lucky them I don't know their faces and I've yet mastered the art of killing without leaving a trace *wink wink* And his name is Mohafri Mohamed. Stupid fucker. And I wonder if anyone will ever ever cater from him again (stupid caterer). Yucks and super-ewwww. Read all about this fucker and slut here. And he is stupidly hideous. This slut absolutely has no taste and discretion at all.

Pen

Pen holds a sacred meaning for me. Back then, when I was in primary school (that's for 7 to 12 years old here in Malaysia, at least I think so) we were not allowed to use pens to write. The reason: we make so many mistakes, it's advisable to use pencils. So, no pens for us. Thus, I waited with baited breath for the day when I was allowed to have coloured pens in my precious pencil case.

You see, my pencil case is my holy grail. I am very selective in what I put in my case. Even my pencil case is precious to me. Until now. Back then, my main aim was to fill my pencil case with as many things as possible. To me, it is a sign of superiority. Superiority of pencil cases in school, in any case. I would purposely arrange my pencil case at an optimum viewing area, so that everyone could see how superior my pencil case was.

Anyway, I grow up and grow to love to have a great set of stationaries. I now limit the amount of stuff I would stuff in my pencil case. Everything comes in ones nowadays. In my pencil case, there will be one blue pen, one pencil, one eraser, one ruler and one stapler (an essential). The main point here, the less the better. Quality over quantity. There's a saying, less is more these days (actually, this applies to fashion, but hey, who cares!I can use it where I want it).

I was actually so ecstatic when I graduated primary school and entered high school. That means that I could ultimately use pens when I write!!!!YAY!!!That's like one of the main thing I looked forward to in high school. Can you imagine my apprehension when I first use a blue pen for my notes and assignments. I think I asked my friends about whether I could use a pen so many times, I think my friends wanted to tear their hair out and screamed 'Yes, yes, use that bloody pen as you like, you bloody irritating broad!'.

Nowadays, I always make sure I have a pen with me. And a notebook. That's not important. The most important point of this post is: I love pen. I even tried so many types and brands and I finally settled on Stabilo Liner 808M. It's a perfect pen. The conclusion is, my love affair with pens will last forever. Even with the new technology like touch screens etc, I will love my pens forever and ever and ever. And ever.....

The End.

P/S: This post reminds me of a primary school Malay language essay titled 'I am a pen' where I have to write a story of life of a pen which was valued but got thrown away after a period. Stupid essay -_-

SPM Result Day

I may come from a totally different generation (in terms of SPM), but I still remember my SPM result day. It was a silent morning, you know the kind that is akin to calm before the storm kind of serenity. I couldn't sleep all that well the night before, with all the anxiety and tossing and turning. After almost 3 months of enjoyment (and part-time working which works well as I have the means to enjoy my holiday), it was the reckoning time. If there are such thing as butterflies in my stomach, I have a LEGION of them in my whole abdomen.

Anyway, I remember distinctly that I didn't want to go to my school to collect my result. You see, I wasn't that close to my high school friends in the first place (excepting Put and Farah, but we're like weird great friends; our friendship dynamics are abnormal shall we say, as we could all survive without each other and still be comfortable and happy with each other. I don't know whether I'm making any sense here). So, there was not so much of anticipation of excited chatter, squealing, crying and catching up for me, friendship-wise. I am also never close to any of my high school teacher, being who I am (I am very comfortable in my own skin, so I work well alone), so no motivation for me there too.

Thus, I decided not to collect my SPM result on The Day. However, I was curious (well whoever is not?), so I called my high school office bright and early (around 9 to 10 am, I think). Surprise, surprise, my high school class teacher told me to get my butt to school and collect my result (and told me my actual result). I was happy to collect my result (my result being my ultimate happiness) and went to do so. The rest was a blur since I didn't think I actually catch up with any of my high school friends (I felt like I was outside of my body, looking at myself in a very very detached way) or my high school teachers. But one thing that will always stick in my mind is I was definitely very happy. The SPM day turn out to be a very happy day for me.

What's On My Playlist Nowadays?

It's been a while. I am so busy (and so un-inspired) I haven't been writing. Anyway, I fell in love with this song. It has such a beautiful lyrics, so I just want to share it ^^ Her song reminds me of Brooke Fraser's Albertine (don't know why). Here goes:

Laura Jane Scott - The Librarian

I know the distance it takes

to sail around the world

I've done it many times

on seas of Van Gogh green

And every night with certainty

the stars descend around the whole like fireflies

It's no surprise I'm here tonight

Holding out hope for a change in the tide

Painted windows on the skyline

Sail me off this empty island

I'll be home before you know it

I'll be home before you know I'm gone

I know the secret waves

that lap around the world

The mermaids sing of them

as they brush their hair with coral

Where every lighthouse sends a beam

like Roman columns to a city down below

And this I know: to plunge down and breathe

Is more than possible if you believe

Painted windows on the skyline

Sail me off this empty island

I'll be home before you know it

I'll be home before you know I'm gone

La la la la (8x)

I know the distance it takes

to sail around the world

I've done it many times

behind my knotted desk

In quiet service to the stories I collect

Until it's time to close and go home for the night

Without the pirates

Without the sirens

Without the love notes in bottles at sea

Waiting for someone

Waiting for someone like me

Painted windows on the skyline

Sail me off this empty island

I'll be home before you know it

I'll be home before you know I'm gone

Painted windows on the skyline

Sail me off this empty island

I'll be home before you know it

I'll be home before you know I'm gone

'Cultural' Shock?

I'd guess my long 5 years in Auckland had taught me to be a natural bitch (I am a bitch before that but it's aggravated by my stay). Coming back and enrolling to local tertiary institution has opened my eyes to how old-school some lecturers are and how nice Malaysians are. Used to plain speaking aka bitching in class and with friends, I found the students have nothing to say about the system or lecturers. While I respect lecturers very much as they are educating my air-filled head, sharing their vast knowledge, I see a lot of difference in Malaysian lecturers and foreign ones. Believe me, no one is infallible, even lecturers.

For example, most older lecturers are very old-school. They prescribe to 'listen and ask (but the secret message is don't ask, that's considered as talking back and rude)' way of teaching. They somehow 'accidentaly' discourage critical thinking as none of my assignments so far, other than psychology (American-educated lecturer), has any thinking part (like doing a literature review). I love thinking, so the assignments here, to me, are mind-numbing, like repetitive work of sawing the same button on the same top for 10 hours.

I admit I am not a good student, I rebel at everything and I have an idea for everything but hey, that's how I am shaped. I am not fond of spoon-feeding (well, actually I do, but I also love discussion of anything under the sun). Anyway, one of my lecturers was telling about 0-tolerance of plagiarism policy last Friday and not to boast, I'm so used to citations and referencing due to my years in UoA and use of Turnitin, I told him about the 20% cut-off point. And he, this lecturer, refused to listen, saying that every assignment must be 0% when submitted to Turnitin. I mean, come on. Who in this world has his own idea about medical science? All we have is past research and our own research to enhance the knowledge. Do you get it, enhance, not owned!

Another trait of old-school lecturer is the amount of nagging. It reminds me of my mama somehow. The time taken to listen to his nag can be used to study for my previous major fail. Lastly, the old-school lecturers don't believe in professionalism. No sire. Let's announce the whole class's test marks in the class, shall we? While I know and very aware how badly I did in my biochemistry test (not exactly my favourite), but does he need to tell the whole class and announce how 'badly' I did it? Should I ask him a question regarding latest research in medicine or something else medicine-related that he learned 10000 years ago and probably not using now (and dully forgotten)? I'm sure he wouldn't even remember it.

Have some realistic expectations please. While I know he has the best intentions, I know he needs to 'update' his style in approaching students. I finds him tiresome and boring, and sometimes, I get so angry I felt like doing some rude talk backs ^^

Again, I know I am back in Malaysia and the way things are done is majorly different and I have to comply but with my crazy stubborn personality, I found this extremely difficult. I need a complete mind-set alteration. Or a bitching friend, at least ^^

Congratulations Uncle!

On the 19th of February 2011, my whole paternal family went to Lumut to celebrate Uncle Charlie's engagement to Ema. Uncle Charlie is my last uncle (5th) on the paternal side. He's my age (which I will keep as a secret) and a doctor. Ema is of native Perak and an accountant (I think). Uncle Charlie was very excited and happy. Ema looked very pretty in her lavender (or was it purple) fancy kebaya. We all wish him the best and may his wedding solemnization ceremony and reception go smooth sailing.

Anyway, all of us stayed in Damai Laut Swiss-Garden Resort. It's a great place for vacationing family and it's so close to the sea, it's very warm in the day around that area. The drive from KL took about 4 hours and it was tiring. What ever it is, I am happy for Uncle. Chuka-hamnida uncle! I can't wait to celebrate your wedding soon ^^

Please, How Stupid Do You Think I Am?

I feel really upset for my sister B right now. I know she worked really hard, she is one of the most diligent student I've met in my entire life. She never have any extra tuition that is so common in Malaysia. She studies by herself and always managed to be one of the best student in her schools (primary and secondary schools). She is also a very talented athlete who competes in various sports in state level. To me, she is one of the brilliantly well-rounded students in Malaysia.

While I know I am very biased (she is my sister after all), I've seen others who are not as active as my sister. For the fact that she is consistently ranked on top, I am pretty pissed at the government body who rejected her application to good schools, such as controlled schools (I don't know whether they have changed their system or names, I've not kept up with the latest) or boarding schools.

In Malaysia, we have tier school system (or something akin to that). There are major boarding schools or premiere schools such as Fully Residential Schools (SBP) and MRSM (Mara Junior Science College). I am a product of SBP. There is also controlled schools such as Sekolah Aminuddin Baki, Victoria Institution, Sekolah Bukit Nanas and so on. All of us excepting B are product or current student of controlled schools or boarding schools (okay my explanation is vague but I'm too lazy to elaborate on this, it's a boring topic to me).

Anyway, these schools are good schools with great curriculum (actually they are similar to other ordinary day schools but the teachings are probably dissimilar), teachers and study environment. They have great facilities with good reputation that will somehow or other help in students' future undertakings. Anyway, it is well known that admission is very limited. Criteria are strict and some of them are: perfect results (5As for UPSR entry level and 8As for PMR entry level) and disadvantaged background (poor family/income below average and coming from non-city area). Extra co-curricular activities also helps. While ideally the criteria are as I stated before, how come more than 50% of student populations from these 'so-called' good schools are rich and 'not-so-disadvantaged' students? All of these rich students are usually from urban areas and their parents are rich nabobs.

Truthfully, the criteria only work for poor people who are gullible like my family. The rich ones, well, they deserved their golden tickets don't they? They have all the advantages in the world. And the motive of establishing these good schools of providing good education for good students who are otherwise disadvantaged? That motive doesn't work, mostly. While I agree they help people like my family (my sisters and I) to gain good education, they also help those who definitely don't need extra help like my rich friends.

I am not envious of rich people. I love my friends, may they be rich or not. Hey, their parents work hard for their money, they deserve to spend it. It's just that, please don't use stupendous reasons like 'helping disadvantaged students' to reject brilliant students like my sister while we all know they have a special 'Dato/Tan Sri' list out there for 'special' admission students (aka rich people's offspring). I absolutely hate this system. It's unfair. But then again, this is life. Isn't there and adage saying 'the rich will only get richer and the poorer will always get poorer'? I pray that B will get what she wants eventually. As for the government, well all governments in the world have corruption here and there, isn't it? Corruption and power seemed to go hand in hand.

And What Happened After That Incident...

...is that the whole car smelled nasty, like shit. Well, it is shit. And I got so pissed, I felt like telling Baba (who were driving) to pass by Aunty Ana's house and scream bloody murder at her at 7 in the morning, when the sun has yet to shine. I felt like crap (I did step on a bunch of crap) and I had to clean one of my favourite pair of shoes (the white gold-trimmed 3-inch peekabo heels with pretty pretty bows at the back) on the road, then on a patch of grass in front of B's school, and then finally managed to wash the sole in a sink at school.

I wasted my morning feeling extremely angry and frustrated. My shoes were wet. I couldn't stop smelling the crap, even after I cleaned my shoes. I feel dirty all over (okay it's psychological, but hey whatever!). My dad's car carpet got dirty (Aunty Ana should clean it!). So, in conclusion I had a crappy morning today, all thanks to Aunty Ana.

I've never been a happy camper upon waking up in the morning. I'm usually grumpy, crabby, irritated and sullen at best. Today my grumpiness has reached a new height. My next door neighbours, Aunty Ana and her husband keep more than 40 cats as pets. That number doesn't include the stray ones they feed with tender loving care. While I applaud their lovingness towards animals, I hate the fact that they don't take care of their cats properly. Their cat poop are not regularly cleaned and sometimes they let their cats wander, all more than 40 of them, in the neigbourhood to poop and piss everywhere they like to.

Knowing cats and their habits, they tend to prefer grassy area with plenty of soil to piss and poop. Marking their territory, so to speak. And knowing my neighbourhood, about 90% of the houses are cemented, thus leaving the very few like my house with green grassy area with plenty of soil. Naturally my house, due to its close proximity (next door) and its clear fresh grassy area has become the next big thing aka cat public toilet. Everyday, we can see and more importantly smell the cats' leavings. They are nasty, as most can testify and one can accidentally step on the smelly poop. The smell lingers and you feel like killing yourself, or better yet, your neighbour. That's exactly what happened to me this morning on the way to the car. I stepped on Aunty Ana's cat's poop (specifics are needed here).

While I can't blame the cats (I have nothing against them really, they are cute and adorable), they are animals after all, I blame Aunty Ana and her husband. There is a rule where one cannot simply have more than 40 pets at one time! It's against animal's right and very cruel (due to cramped and dirty space, proven by Aunty Ana's household). It's also disrespecting your neighbours due to the smelly odour (Aunty Ana and husband's negligent handling and care of their cats and their leavings) and dirtiness (poops everywhere) for us to endure, especially the right-next door neighbour. We don't live on an estate where each household has more than 10 acres of land, thus more space for the cats to leave their poop. We live in a terrace houses where more than 5 houses are attached to one another and our yards separated by just a measly fence.

My mother has mentioned about the poop and smell (coming from her house and ditch as ditch is her primary place to throw her cats' poop) repeatedly. Her response, 'Well it's not the cats fault, you know. They are just animals.'. That's a very edifying answer Aunty Ana. It showed how stupid you are. Yes, the animals depend on their innate instinct. They do poop as they like, anywhere they like. It's human who has the brain to think. So, bully you, you one stupid lady. You are the owner of the cats. You are the one who is responsible. So, can you give your brain an exercise called 'thinking' and start taking care of your cats responsibly? Or why don't you give away most of the cats for others to take care to be a better pet owner and neighbour? Or better yet, why don't you just move ASAP?