Saturday, July 25, 2009

Deep(er) Conversations II

I so love deep conversations. I emphasised about this in an entry before.

You see, I was playing an old GBA game I love on my laptop when I heard Joe listening to a nasheed titled Muhasabah Cinta. It is a soundtrack for a Malaysian drama titled Nur Kasih, if I'm not mistaken. Joe kept on repeating the song for nth times, plus playing his guitar using the chord he found on the net.

I heard the word "cinta" too many times, my mind was intoxicated with it. That reminds me of two conversations I had with friends about love.

(Owh, yeah. This time, the characters are not as obvious as the other entry but guesses are warmly welcomed. *smiles*)

I - Love others because you love Allah

P: You know, I've been saving up money just in case I'll find a girl who is ready to be my wife. See, I have planned something for my future.
Me: Wow.
P: Any girl who could make me fall for her, that's the one I'll marry.
Me: Cool.
P: You see, Chouji, to find someone to go through the ups and downs in life together, with passion and patience is not easy.
Me: You mean?
P: Well, almost everyone can go to through life's ups and downs. But can they do it without losing passion and patience?
Me: Hurm . . . you got a good point there.
P: I envy you, bro. You've been saving up money as I'm doing and you've found "the one". Go Chouji! I support you. [laughing]
Me: Errr . . . what are you crapping about, man? Even if I've found someone I like and wanting to marry, I don't think she likes me as I like her. [pretentious smile]
P: Aw, c'mon. For me, it's not that important if she likes you or not. What important here is your efforts. And prayers.
Me: Huh?
P: I mean, you must put in some effort to find a good candidate for your future wife. From there, you pray to Allah to open up her heart for you. For your good, I mean. Don't hope for her to like you. You see, when we want something from another human, that desire often become lustful and in the end, we forget Him. We forget Allah because of humans.
Me: Thanks, I get what you mean.
P: Remember, my friend. Love others because you love Allah. Love the ones you love because of Allah. And I pray the best for you.

II - Marriage is love's starting point

Me: Hey, have you heard? Dayah Menn (my schoolmate) is going to get married this weekend.
A: Owh, really? With whom? Anyone we know?
Me: Nah, with a guy from Sik. I don't know him neither.
A: Owh, I see. Menn's getting married . . . and I don't even have a bf yet. [sigh]
Me: [laughing] How about J?
A: Owh, you. Just shut up already. Stop talking about him. And you. How about you? Thought I heard you got a gf or something.
Me: It's history.
A: Owh. Broke up?
Me: Yup. Not meant for each other, it seems.
A: Sorry to hear that.
Me: Nah, it's okay. I don't regret anything.
A: [dead silent]
Me: Aw, c'mon, sis! I'm okay.
A: So you're not looking for a new gf now?
Me: Sheesh.
A: Hurm?
Me: I'm not experienced with love relationship. In fact, I've only been in one and it was only for few months.
A: What are you trying to imply?
Me: I haven't finished my point there, my dear.
A: Owh, sorry~ [sticks tongue out]
Me: What I was trying to say is, I'm not gonna be in any other love relationship after this. I'm not expecting anything lesser than a marriage.
A: Wow! What a statement!
Me: [laughing] I didn't mean to talk big whatsoever. But you see, in that one relationship I've been in, I wasn't satisfied.
A: That sounds SO wrong!
Me: Hey! Don't take me wrong.
A: Chills, brother. I was just kidding. [laughing] Now, why weren't you satisfied?
Me: I mean, I felt uncomfortable when I was in that relationship. Something wrong somewhere but I couldn't tell what was it. Perhaps many things wrong everywhere.
A: Owh. You know, I think love alone lead a couple nowhere.
Me: Owh, my. I agree with you. In my opinion, love should have a goal and that goal is marriage - from where, many things begin.
A: That may be true. I always think that love will fade with time. That's why it needs nourishment, which is marriage. As you said, many things begin from marriage though some people think that marriage is the endpoint for love.
Me: Wow, what an analogy!
A: For me, marriage is a starting point for something much bigger. In marriage, we will learn about each other. Don't you agree, brother?
Me: Can't say no to that, now, can I? [laughing]

Note: As always, I reconstructed some parts of the conversation, omitted some names and turned its content into a more suitable read for public. If I write exactly as the original conversation, there will be more craps to read than the intended contents. Ahaha~

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

One Fine Day

Okay, the title of this entry has nothing to do with its content. Really.


I felt like writing the other day, and I'd like to share it here. I have no idea what title should I give to this short story, though. Hurm~

At one corner of a well-lit room, a girl was squatting with her face against the wall. She was sobbing, tears welled up in her squinty eyes.

I approached the girl and asked what was wrong and she pointed at a boy standing in the middle of a laughing crowd. I wiped the girl's cheeks with my shirt sleeve and convinced her to tell me what happened. I was their teacher after all.

Me: Stop crying. Now, tell me what happened eh?
Girl: *sobbing*
Me: Good girls answer when their teacher asked them questions, remember? Hurm . . . I thought Samantha is a good girl.
Samantha: I AM a good girl!
Me: Then, why don't you stop sobbing and calmly tell me what happened?
Samantha: That boy, Hamish, he made fun of my ponytails!
Me: Owh, I see. What did he say?
Samantha: Hamish said I look like Mother Ultra! Wu~
Me: Mother Ultra?
Samantha: Mother of all Ultramans! Hu . . . I'm not an old lady. I don't wanna be Mother Ultra!
Me: Samantha, if I call out for Hamish . . . can you promise me not to yell at him?
Samantha: I promise.
Me: Good girl. *pats Samantha on her head*

I hailed Hamish to come over to me. He hesitantly, taking his own sweet time, strolling.

Hamish: Yes, Mr. Westwood?
Me: What did you say to Sam? She's crying her eyes out.
Hamish: I said she looks exactly like Mother Ultra! Her ponytails, especially!

Samantha bagan to cry again. I stared at Hamish.

Me: Do you think Sam likes it?
Hamish: What?
Me: Listen, young man. Sam doesn't like to be called Mother Ultra.
Hamish: Then?
Me: I believe you have something else to say to Sam?

Hamish looked puzzled. I bent down and whispered to him, "Apologise to her. Now." Hamish nodded, but it took him a solid ten minutes just to say the magic words. Sam was silent but tears were still welling up in her little squinty eyes.

The bell rang and both of them dashed out of the classroom, heading home.

THE next day, I noticed Samantha was avoiding Hamish. She did not respond to Hamish's greetings nor did she return his smile. I shook my head but I decided to wait patiently and watch the progress of these two kids. I believe that they will be best friends again.

THE second day was the same. Sam was still avoiding Hamish. I was thinking to intervene and be a mediator for the two of them to reconcile but what happened during breaktime made me changed my mind. I saw Hamish, with a box of cookies, sneakily approached Samantha from her back.

Hamish: BOO!
Samantha: Ack! *in shock* Hamish!
Hamish: Sam, about that time . . . I'm sorry?
Samantha: Hey, I'm not talking to you!
Hamish: Really? Hurm . . . but I have my mom's homemade choco-chips cookies. A box full of them! I thought of giving all of them to you . . . but I guess now I have to eat all of them by myself. *sigh*
Samantha: Your mom's homemade choco-chips cookies, you say?
Hamish: Yeah, I asked my mom to make it last night.
Samantha: Really?
Hamish: Yup!
Samantha: I love you, Hamish!
Hamish: *smirking* No worries, Mother Ultra!
Samantha: What?

"Don't worry," Hamish laughed. "That's your pet name, only me will call you that. Nobody else." Hamish stuck his tongue out and escaped Samantha's tantrum.

But I noticed Samantha embraced the box of cookies. She was smiling.


I found out something interesting few days later when I had some time to spend with Hamish while helping him out with his science project. I asked him why he always try to irritate Samantha.

"I don't know," that was his answer. Then I asked why he called her Mother Ultra, and he answered, "I think Mother Ultra is cute . . . and Sam is cute too, but she took it the other way and thought I was making fun of her ponytails."

I was really surprised when Hamish told me this:

"You know, Mr. Westwood? I really don't understand Sam. She always gets angry at me even when I try to be nice to her. It's true I try to irritate her once in a while . . . but I can be nice to her too! I even asked my mom to teach me how to make choco-chips cookies. I know Sam loves it!"

"You helped your mom made them?" Hamish nodded vigorously. "Wow, but how did you know Sam loves choco-chips cookies?"

"I just knew."

I smiled.

Me: Know what, Hamish?
Hamish: Hurm?
Me: Seems to me, you know a lot about Sam. You like her?

Hamish's face turned red and excused himself to the washroom. I sank in my chair, smiling.

Friday, July 17, 2009

In The Depths of Those Eyes

I was writing a short story when I suddenly have this writer's block I always try to get rid of. It is frustrating when you have a lot to write yet your hands and mind won't cooperate. But I perceived that as an opportunity to read.

I went to my mini bookshelf and browsed through my collections. I picked a book I've finished reading some time ago, titled The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho. The Alchemist is a good read but I have no intention to write a review on it. Instead, I want to share a part which I think is interesting. Here goes:

The alchemist picked up a book that someone in the caravan had brought. Leafing through the pages, he found a story about Narcissus.

The alchemist knew about the legend of Narcissus, a youth who knelt daily beside a lake to contemplate his own beauty. He was so fascinated by himself that, one morning, he fell into the lake and drowned. At the spot where he fell, a flower was born, which was called the narcissus.

But this was not how the author of the book ended the story.

He said that when Narcissus died, the goddesses of the forest appeared and found the lake, which had been fresh water, transformed into a lake of salty waters.

"Why do you weep?" the goddesses asked.

"I weep for Narcissus," the lake replied.

"Ah, it is no surprise that you weep for Narcissus," they said, "for though we always pursued him in the forest, you alone could contemplate his beauty close at hand."

"But...was Narcissus beautiful?" the lake asked.

"Who better than you to know that?" the goddesses said in wonder. "After all, it was by your banks that he knelt each day to contemplate himself!"

The lake was silent for some time. Finally it said:

"I weep for Narcissus, but I never noticed that Narcissus was beautiful. I weep because, each time he knelt beside my banks, I could see, in the depths of his eyes, my own beauty reflected."

"What a lovely story," the alchemist thought.

(excerpt taken from The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho, pp. xx-xxi)

Don't you think the story is lovely too? I think it is a lovely story. *smiles*

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

What Have You Done, Chouji?

Guess I should start with an apology.

My sincerest apology, that is.

I'm not sure if she would read this, but I'm really really really sorry for what I've done.

It is a common sense not to ever, ever critique or even comment a female's appearance.
I was taught that, and even learnt it the hard way before.
Many times.

But there you go, Chouji.
You made that stupid mistake again.
For the nth time.

Why, for God's sake, you went and made that offensive comment?

May be it sounds as if this is not serious, but I feel bad - real bad, honestly - when I happen to offend a close friend.

. . . I wish there is something I could do to make up to what I've done. *sigh*

Sunday, July 12, 2009

A Little Prayer

*toot* *toot*

Me: Assalaamu'alaikum.
Female's voice: Wa'alaikumsalaam.
Me: Kak Jah! Nie Din. Mak ada? Nak cakap ngan mak.
Kak Jah: Okay. [passing her phone to my mom]
My mom: Assalaamu'alaikum.
Me: Wa'alaikummussalaam. Mak macamana? Awat tak habaq kat Din pon yang mak masuk spital?
My mom: Din sehat ka kat sana?
Me: Alhamdulillah, Din sehat. Mak tue la yang tak sehat. Saket sampai masok spital pon tamau habaq kat Din.
My mom: Takpa la. Din dok sana blajaq elok-elok.
Me: Mak macamana?
My mom: Macam besa la. Demam-demam, tak lalu nak makan. Baru-baru nie depa check kata buah pinggang tak berfungsi. Sebab batu karang dulu kot. Takpa la. Nak buat macamana . . . dah Dia nak bagi kat mak. Mak sabaq ja la.
Me: [sniffle] Sapa dok jaga mak kat spital?
My mom: La nie kak Jah ang dok jaga mak. Dok tukaq-tukaq ngan kak Chik ngan abang Bidi ang la. Abah ang dok mai tiap-tiap hari tapi ari nie tak mai. Demam.
Me: Kak Chaq ngan abang Wan?
My mom: Depa ada anak kecik. Tapi depa dok mai la jenguk mak bila-bila depa boleh.
Me: . . . Din nak balik.
My mom: Bila Din abes blajaq sana?
Me: Tak konfem tarikh lagi. InsyaAllah tengah bulan 11 atau awai bulan 12.
My mom: Takpa la, brapa bulan ja lagi tue.
Me: Din nak balik nak jaga mak.
My mom: Jangan dok gatai nak balik la. Dok sana blajaq elok-elok. Jangan dok risau sangat pasai mak. Kakak-kakak ang dok ada jaga mak. Lagipon Tuhan bagi penyakit nie nak uji kesabaran. Kita sabaq dia tolong kita balik.

I was holding my tears back when I was on the phone with my mom. I know if I burst into tears, she'll get upset even more. That's my mom. She's been keeping things to herself. Not wanting me to know whenever she got sick and hospitalised because she doesn't want me to worry about her. Always pretend to be strong.

Don't you know that keeping things secret from me like that makes me even more worried about you, mom?

But yes, you are one of the strongest persons I've ever known in my life. You put other people before yourself. You concern about my health first even when you yourself are about to undergo a major operation, yet you keep that secret from me.

Owh, how I feel like going back.

To be there by your side.
To take care of you.

But you told me not to.

I guess all I have and the least I could for the moment, is to pray. Yes, prayer is all I have and the least I could do for you, mom . . . at the moment.

O Allah! Before You I kneel and prostrate. If in my every prayer up to this moment I've asked You for too many selfish things; this time I only have one and only one request: Please keep my mom safe and let the operation goes smoothly tomorrow and turns out to be successful. I'd rather forfeit any other requests if You could fulfil this one thing I'm asking You. Verily, You are the Grantor of All Wishes and only You whom I can always turn to for help. Ameen . . .

Saturday, July 11, 2009


Okay. I. Am. Bored.

Like . . . really, really bored. There are few hours before I go out to town for the Japan Festival.

Guess I can complete this thing first? Got it from Sarah Haiina's blog. Here goes:

Sometimes I just need:
- someone I can share anything. Whenever I feel happy about something, whenever I'm sad about something, or whenever I feel so uncertain about something. Bottling things up is hard, and it eats you inside out.

Sometimes I want:
- a younger sister. No particular reason, just because I don't have one. Older sisters and younger sisters can be different, I know. Perhaps if I ever had a younger sister, I'd be able to talk smoothly with females?

Sometimes I like to:
- go out to town at night, especially during weekend. Drunk people are funny.

Sometimes all it takes:
- is just a shred of doubt to make you hesitate in making a crucial decision or judgement.

Sometimes I picture:
- myself teaches adolescents in university, has children with a girl I love.

Sometimes I wish:
- I'm more capable than what I am. Being different is nonetheless good, but it can cause some turmoils inside.

Sometimes I find:
- it very difficult to express my real self and how I feel, especially to a person I like.

Sometimes I take:
- pride in my successes.

Sometimes I look:
- forward to what the future has in store for me.

Sometimes I hate:
- myself? No. I love myself, thank you Allah. But sometimes I hate my incompetency and lack of capability for certain things. I never liked competitions.

Sometimes it’s nice:
- if I can grow old together with a person I love, sharing many things while getting to know each other more and more, every single day.

Sometimes it hurts:
- to see people getting hurt because of my actions.

Sometimes it makes me happy:
- when I can make other people feel happy and smile. Not sometimes, but every time.

Sometimes it’s sad:
- to see people getting all selfish and oppress others for their own benefits.

Sometimes I listen:
- to my surroundings . . . the sound of the mellifluous morning breeze, the sound of chattering people, the sound of cars bustling through a busy motorway.

Sometimes I sleep:
- and pray that I can live another day to see happy faces on people I love.

Sometimes I like to watch:
- people's behaviour. I don't know why, but I can find even the littlest amusement in people's gestures and that is enough to make my day.

Sometimes I feel:
- downtrodden by my own incompetency and lack of ability.

Sometimes I rant:
- silently on a piece of paper or MS Word. I always try to channel my emotions into words and make a writing piece out of it.

Sometimes I never:
- give up on things I know I have no chance of success. I have no idea why.

Sometimes I really:
- want to know the truth behind the Allah's creation. I guess that's why I seek to learn as many things I could in my ability.

When I’m ..

sad, I want: a listening ear.

happy, I need: somebody I can share it with.

mad, I wish: I can stay calm and don't hurt anyone.

overjoyed, I find: myself smiling all day long, humming to my own toneless tune.

indifferent, I like to: observe my surroundings.

content, I never: keep it to myself.

frustrated, all it takes: is to pray and work harder so as not to let history repeat itself.

you saw your best friend on one side of the road, but you also saw one of your close family members on the other side, and they were both in serious danger, who would you go to help first?
- I'll dash to save my family member while shouting to alert my best friend or people around him to his rescue. But I guess it all depends on how crucial the help they need . . . and I hope I can make a quick, wise judgement if that moment ever comes at all.

you had the choice of going back in time to or go forward in time to see the future, which would you choose?
- Neither. I'd rather live in the present. I look back at my past sometimes to learn from my mistakes, and I'm striving my best to shape my own future. We are never helpless when we realise how strong we actually are, and that Allah is always by our side.

I want to tag:
- Sarah Shaina
- Dyana Kamal
- Khirol
- Yantie
- Yuyu
- and anyone else who feels like doing this.

Thursday, July 9, 2009

May You Rest In Peace, Old Friend


Today we mourn the passing of a beloved old friend, 'Common Sense', who has been with us for many years. No one knows for sure how old he was, since his birth records were long ago lost in bureaucratic red tape. He will be remembered as having cultivated such valuable lesson as:

Knowing when to come in out of the rain; why the early bird gets the worm; life isn't always fair, and maybe it was my fault.

Common Sense lived by simple, sound financial policies (don't spend more than you can earn) and reliable strategies (adults, not children, are in charge).

His health began to deteriorate rapidly when well-intentioned but over-bearing regulations were set in place. Reports of a 6-year-old boy charged with sexual harassment for kissing a classmate; teens suspended from school for using mouth wash after lunch; and a teacher fired after reprimanding an unruly student, only worsened his condition.

Common Sense lost ground when parents attacked teachers for doing the job that they themselves had failed to do in disciplining their unruly children.

It declined even further when schools were required to get parental consent to minister sun lotion or an Aspirin to a student but could not inform parents when a student became pregnant and wanted to have an abortion.

Common Sense lost the will to live as the churches became businesses; and criminals received better treatment than their victims. Common Sense took a beating when you couldn't defend yourself from a burglar in your own home and the burglar could sue you for assault.

Common Sense finally gave up the will to live, after a woman failed to realise that a steaming cup of coffee was hot. She spilled a little in her lap, and was promptly awarded a huge settlement.

Common Sense was preceded in death, by his parents, Truth and Trust. His wife, Discretion, his daughter, Responsibility, his son, Reason.

He is survived by his 4 stepbrothers: I Know My Rights, I Want It Now, Someone Else Is To Blame, and I'm A Victim.

Not many attended his funeral because so few realised he was gone.

- The London Times

I found this article when I was cleaning WCC last night. I was moved after reading this and I was thinking to myself, "I must share this with everyone on my blog!" and so I made a copy for myself.

Just a piece of my two-bit opinion: I think Common Sense is deemed dead in "big cities" such as New York or maybe even Kuala Lumpur.

Monday, July 6, 2009

Khabar Kepada Kawan

I went out taking photos of Wellington last night. The scenery was breathtaking, and thanks to my darling Ms. SX10IS, I was able to capture such beauty. Click here to see them. Back from taking photos, I lie in bed with my running nose thinking about how beautiful Allah has created this world around us yet we often take them for granted. Thank you, Allah, for all these blessings.

As my fever gotten worse and my nose clogged with mucus, I fell asleep while chatting with some friends on YM. It was a deep sleep I fell into, which has always been accompanied with dreams. Yes, I dream a lot but only when I have a deep sleep.

Guess what I dreamt about?

No, no, no. Not shweet girls blowing kisses at me, though it would have been a shweet dream indeed. Ahaha~

Okay, I was just kidding. I dreamt about catastrophic natural disasters. I dreamt about tsunami and earthquake, and drought. I woke up with my heart racing fast as if it's gonna burst out from my chest, and I was drowned in cold sweat. I whispered a prayer asking for Allah's protection from any of these disasters.

It is true that I never had been through any of these, or any natural disasters I can classify as "catastrophic" yet, but I had conversation with some friends who were victims. Remember tsunami that hit Penang few years ago? Yes, I have friends who lost their loved ones in that catastrophe. This reminds me of a song by Ebiet G. Ade titled "Khabar kepada Kawan". Look closely at the lyric.

Khabar Kepada Kawan

Perjalanan ini terasa sangat menyedihkan
Sayang engkau tak duduk di sampingku kawan
Banyak cerita yang mestinya kau saksikan
Di tanah kering berbatuan

Tubuhku tergoncang dihempas batu jalanan
Hati tergetar nampak kering rerumputan
Perjalanan ini seperti jadi saksi
Gembala kecil menangis sedih sekali

Kawan cuba dengar apa jawabnya
ketika ku tanya mengapa
Bapa ibunya telah lama mati
ditelan bencana tanah ini

Sesampainya di laut
ku khabarkan semuanya
kepada karang kepada ombak
kepada matahari
tetapi semua diam
tetapi semua bisu
Tinggal aku sendiri
terpaku menatap langit

Barangkali di sana ada jawabnya
Mengapa di tanahku terjadi bencana
Mungkin Tuhan mulai bosan melihat tingkah kita
yang selalu salah dan bangga dengan dosa-dosa
Atau alam mulai enggan bersahabat dengan kita
Cuba kita bertanya pada rumput yang bergoyang

Look at the last stanza. The author questioned why natural disaster happens, and he suggested that it is because of humans' arrogant actions and stupidity.

I remember my ustaz and ustazah told me (and I believe you've heard of it too as it is a reminder from the Holy Quran, though I can't recall which verse) that Allah doesn't punish us humans individually, unless in certain situations when an individual transgressed too far away from what God has forbidden. Allah's punishments come in the form of natural disasters and the outbreak of diseases.

I remember a non-Muslim friend asked me a question: Why would your God punish the whole country or community when only one person sinned? I believe you claimed Him to be Most Merciful? Isn't that evil to punish a group when only one person did wrong?

How would you answer his question?

I answered this: You see, Allah doesn't punish our sins right away. He is so merciful, Most Merciful in fact, He would wait for our repentance. But we always forget that and we are sometimes too selfish to think only about ourselves. We often care only about ourselves. You see, Islam promotes ukhuwwah (bond of love between all Muslims despite their differences). That means, all Muslims should look after one another, reminding one another when they see anyone transgressing the forbidden. This is the concept of "amar ma'ruf, nahi munkar" which means that we promote good deeds and we prevent wrongdoings. Now, to answer your question. Whenever Allah punishes a country of community with natural disasters such as tsunami or disease outbreak such as the swine flu pandemic, try to sit and reflect and you'll realise this: 1) The individual who transgressed must have offended what God has forbidden more than once, and; 2) The community especially those of knowledge who knows overlooked his wrongdoings.

Okay, that was too lengthy I suppose? What I was trying to say there was, Allah send the punishment not only to punish the transgressor but also the people around him who could care less about his repeated offenses, and did not take any action to stop and bring him to the right path. Indeed, Allah is Most Merciful and Most Fair in His Judgement.

*this is a reminder to myself who always forget.

"O Allah, I beseech Thy Protection from any natural disasters or disease pandemics Thou has sent upon us"

Saturday, July 4, 2009

Thank You

I couldn't sleep last night. Usually when I couldn't sleep, I'll count stars 'till I get sleepy but last night was too cloudy. And so, I lie awake trying to count sheep but guess what came out before my eyes? Not sheep. Not stars. It was the very faces of my friends, the Cohort 4 members. Yes, it was you (if you are reading this though I doubt anyone would read this).

It has been four long years, hasn't it? Four years full of adversities and challenges . . . but we had successfully overcome it, have we not? And that four years were full with unforgettable memories too - laughter, fun, excitement. Yet it feels like everything has just started yesterday, because the memories are too vivid I can hear and see them perfectly clear.

Yes, I'm talking about Cohort 4's Fourth Anniversary.

It was on this very day, four years back, when we all first registered as TESOL students in IPBA. Back then, we were all so young and naive. Do you remember?

One step through this door made us who we are today, has it not?

See? We were all so young and naive back then
Aren't we an energetic bunch of people?

Yes, we were anxious about many things, yet we were looking forward towards what the future has in store for us. We endured through many adversities, we always believe in each other despite the many disputes between any of us. We grew up with each challenge we faced to be the person we are today.

We participated in many things:

This is a snapshot from Sports Day 2005

We participated actively:
The Laksamanas

Annual Handball and Volleyball games

As members of Student Council

BTN programme

We organised events:
English Day

We staged Shakespearean play:
The Tragedy of Macbeth

It was tiring, really
It was a pain in our asses
But it was fun, was it not? We learnt a lot, about each other from these things.

These things has taught us a lot of valuable lessons.

Appreciating each other:

Learn from one another:

Looking out for each others' back:

Have fun together:

Always be there for one another:

as friends.

To all Cohort 4 members out there, Happy 4th Anniversary!

*This entry is a tribute to all Cohort 4 members; from New Zealand, Australia and the United Kingdom.

If any of you happen to read this, please know this:

I AM THANKFUL TO HAVE YOU AS YOU ARE, AND THANK YOU FOR MAKING ME WHO I AM. MAY OUR FRIENDSHIP LAST FOREVER, and may we have the chance to see each other again next year.

Friday, July 3, 2009

I Must Write . . . Something

Away from home for a week on a trip full of fun and laughter left very little time and space for me to "internalise" things happened around me to ponder and to reflect about things around me and about myself. That, somewhat, has made my writing muscles loose and rusty.

Yes, I'm lazy to write about anything at all at the moment. Nope, I'm not gonna write an entry about my holiday trip. It was a wonderful trip with wonderful people but not now. I don't feel like telling it yet.

But I kind of have this urge to write. I feel as if there is something missing each day when I don't write anything at all for a day. Philip Pullman (is the writer of His Dark Matters trilogy which was made in movie titled The Golden Compass) said that a good writer must write at least one page a day, no matter what crap it is he is writing. Guess I'm "implicitly" following his advice? Ahaha~ Perhaps.

Actually, I AM writing something. A script for a play. Just for fun, and it is too far from complete. But this blog seemed to be wailing for an update. SO. As always, when I have no idea what to write for an entry, I'll browse through my "magic folder" for something and I found an interesting story. I forgot where I got it (I know I should have recorded the link, so reminder to self: do that next time) but I will share it with everyone. Here goes:


A man found a cocoon of a butterfly. One day a small opening appeared, he sat and watched the butterfly for several hours as it struggled to force its body through that little hole.

Then it seemed to stop making any progress. It appeared as if it had gotten as far as it could and it could go no farther.

Then the man decided to help the butterfly, so he took a pair of scissors and snipped off the remaining bit of the cocoon. The butterfly emerged easily. But it had a swollen body and small, shriveled wings.

The man continued to watch the butterfly because he expected that, at any moment, the wings would enlarge and expand to be able to support the body, which would contract in time.

Neither happened! In fact, the butterfly spent the rest of its life crawling around with a swollen body and shriveled wings. It was never able to fly.

What the man in his kindness and haste did not understand was that the restricting cocoon and the struggle required for the butterfly to get through the tiny opening were God's way of forcing fluid from the body of the butterfly into its wings so that it would be ready for flight once it achieved its freedom from the cocoon.

Sometimes struggles are exactly what we need in our life. If God allowed us to go through our life without any obstacles it would cripple us. We would not be as strong as what we could have been. And we could never fly.

Wasn't it a good read?

May these be a good reminder to everyone and especially to myself:

1) With every adversity, we become a bit stronger. When we successfully managed to overcome an obstacle and solve a problem, we learn something new and we gain valuable experiences.

2) Facing adversities is like a self-evaluation. It is a good test of our own character. For example, some people look calm and collected but when facing adversities, they panicked and swore etc., etc. As the saying goes,
Character, like tea, reveals its strength in hot water.
SO. If we found out that our true character is not strong, then improve whatever there is lacking.

3) We should not easily give up hope or give in to adversities. We should always try harder and harder each time while at the same time praying for help from the Higher Power, which is God. Look at this advice below:

. . . whoa. Never thought a no-idea start will end up this long.