Hi fellas,
Recently I received a comment which I consider the best of all comments ever in my blog. It is really encouraging and motivating. I have never thought that some of my readers would drop me such a sweet comment. Especially when my blog has been left unattended for a while. Thank you so much luffy.
I know real life is so important but I hate to say that it has taken too much of my energy and time. Every morning before I start my iron horse's engine, I thought of slowing down a bit. You know, try to pace myself. Not pushing myself too much and too hard on the wall. Sometimes I just feel a little suffocated and lost my determination. However, a man has got to eat. A man has got to live his life. And, a man has got to continue to survive for as long as a man can. Well, aren't we all sharing similar routines, day in day out?
Lately, there have been so many things occur in my life. Some seem to be on going kind of things and some were just there temporarily. Business is doing quite well. Lots of people start realizing the importance of education towards their future endeavours. Well, that is where I come in. Kind of good though to be able to leave a mark in some people's life. I don't mean negative marks but something useful and certainly important which may determine their future. Salut...
A few weeks ago, I made a little change in my life. A change for good, I hope. My long abandoned plan has somehow slowly turning into a reality when I purchased an air compressor with an airbrush. Some may wonder what this guy plans to do with those gadgets. Well, since I am an avid follower for any 'sick' paint jobs especially on any custom bikes and cars, I figure out that I want to get my hands a bit dirty once in a while. Thus, airbrush painting is the answer.
I am a total beginner in this matter. I seek advice from all over the places and the internet, Youtube especially. Thanks Youtube. I notice one thing about this business of airbrushing. In Malaysia, though there are many bikers and racers but there are not many airbrush painters. There are a few famous airbrush painters but that is it. I can see the future in this business. However, what makes me sad the most is that, we do not have any suppliers who supply air brush paints in this country! Do Malaysians know about this? Nope. Why? The answer is because there are not many people doing this business. We have all kinds of paints but we really need some suppliers out there to get themselves stocked with some airbrush paints especially the leading brands like Auto-Air paints, Createx, and House of Kolor. Man, I wish I have someone in the USA who would kind enough to start this air brush paints business with me here in Malaysia. So, if any of my readers especially the Americans who would like to venture into a new business, please do not hesitate to contact me via email. I am so into this now.
I spent countless hours every night to search for local suppliers who carry these items here in Malaysia. I guess those countless hours were just put into waste. But the good part of it is I know what we do not have and the demand can be created when the supply is there. Though airbrushing can be quite tricky but it is real fun. So, fellas, pray that my new tiny business will be a successful business. Thanks fellas.
Break a leg...
Showing posts with label Life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Life. Show all posts
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious
Hi fellas,
Transformation is never easy for it requires every single cell in your body to agree with it. To live in the past is synonymous with me and my way of living. However, it is not like the end of the world if I were to change, a bit. There are so many things that I do today, are not really what I used to do back then. I can't help but to notice it bit by bit. Is this good and worthy? Perhaps it is.
I used to think that pink is not my colour. It represents softness and above all WOMEN. I would not imagine myself having any furniture or even clothing in pink. No offense, fellas. I thought it was lame... Now, I find out that pink is a wonderful colour and very soothing to look at. It does not degrade a man and his so called 'toughness' if one were to wear pink. In fact, it brings up glow and tenderness in a man. Mmmm... Am I turning into what I think I am...? Nope. Still hard...oppsss...you don't wanna go there, fellas. What I am saying is I now officially have two pink T-shirts, a pink shirt, a pink tie, a pink bed spread, and a pink computer table. Wow... not to mention, I have a soft toy which I called 'Pinky' simply because she is pink. What...? A soft toy?! Oh dear... don't get me wrong. I am still a man. And, I am wearing an over-sized pink long trainer while I am typing this post. What the heck am I doing...?
My wardrobe used to be pale and dull. I have black T-shirts more than one can imagine. Grey is another colour which I used to love because people say that grey is the new black...yea right. Grey is grey and black is black. Most of my shirts were either black, grey, or dark blue. Boring huh...? But now, I have more colourful shirts and T-shirts in my wardrobe. Why...? Keep on reading, fellas.
One other thing is that, I love ghost stories but I have no guts to watch them alone. I hate it so much when it shocks me. I couldn't sleep well after watching them. I imagined many things and 99.9% of it was ghost. I hated it so much. I don't mind watching two guys strangling each other and shooting at each other but not ghost. On the contrary, now, I have two whole stacks of DVD folders with all ghost movies in them. Weird huh...? Now, read carefully, I did not mention that I love them, I still hate them but I find it more thrilling to watch them... not alone. I still use my dearly bolster to cover my view once in a while especially when the scary scenes are coming up. Chicken huh...? Nope. Just hate to be scared. Why is this happening...?
Though transformation is not an easy thing to be done but it would not hurt to try especially when life seems to be predictable. There is no more thrill in pursuing it hence it is pointless. It is like when one can guess what is coming next, well then, it is the right time for one to change.
The answer to all of the changes in me is MY BB. Thanks to my BB for inspiring me and always believe in me. She is my wardrobe's advisor and of course, my psychologist especially in the ghost thingy. You know what I mean. It is not an award winning and a supercalifragilisticexpialidocious kind of transformation, after all. The most vital thing is I have found the NEW ME. Not bad at all, I would say.
Not bad at all...
Transformation is never easy for it requires every single cell in your body to agree with it. To live in the past is synonymous with me and my way of living. However, it is not like the end of the world if I were to change, a bit. There are so many things that I do today, are not really what I used to do back then. I can't help but to notice it bit by bit. Is this good and worthy? Perhaps it is.
I used to think that pink is not my colour. It represents softness and above all WOMEN. I would not imagine myself having any furniture or even clothing in pink. No offense, fellas. I thought it was lame... Now, I find out that pink is a wonderful colour and very soothing to look at. It does not degrade a man and his so called 'toughness' if one were to wear pink. In fact, it brings up glow and tenderness in a man. Mmmm... Am I turning into what I think I am...? Nope. Still hard...oppsss...you don't wanna go there, fellas. What I am saying is I now officially have two pink T-shirts, a pink shirt, a pink tie, a pink bed spread, and a pink computer table. Wow... not to mention, I have a soft toy which I called 'Pinky' simply because she is pink. What...? A soft toy?! Oh dear... don't get me wrong. I am still a man. And, I am wearing an over-sized pink long trainer while I am typing this post. What the heck am I doing...?
My wardrobe used to be pale and dull. I have black T-shirts more than one can imagine. Grey is another colour which I used to love because people say that grey is the new black...yea right. Grey is grey and black is black. Most of my shirts were either black, grey, or dark blue. Boring huh...? But now, I have more colourful shirts and T-shirts in my wardrobe. Why...? Keep on reading, fellas.
One other thing is that, I love ghost stories but I have no guts to watch them alone. I hate it so much when it shocks me. I couldn't sleep well after watching them. I imagined many things and 99.9% of it was ghost. I hated it so much. I don't mind watching two guys strangling each other and shooting at each other but not ghost. On the contrary, now, I have two whole stacks of DVD folders with all ghost movies in them. Weird huh...? Now, read carefully, I did not mention that I love them, I still hate them but I find it more thrilling to watch them... not alone. I still use my dearly bolster to cover my view once in a while especially when the scary scenes are coming up. Chicken huh...? Nope. Just hate to be scared. Why is this happening...?
Though transformation is not an easy thing to be done but it would not hurt to try especially when life seems to be predictable. There is no more thrill in pursuing it hence it is pointless. It is like when one can guess what is coming next, well then, it is the right time for one to change.
The answer to all of the changes in me is MY BB. Thanks to my BB for inspiring me and always believe in me. She is my wardrobe's advisor and of course, my psychologist especially in the ghost thingy. You know what I mean. It is not an award winning and a supercalifragilisticexpialidocious kind of transformation, after all. The most vital thing is I have found the NEW ME. Not bad at all, I would say.
Not bad at all...
Monday, August 25, 2008
Stepping Up...
In life, one has to be brave to face any forms of challenges. I know some prefer to play safe and try their best to be in a safe zone. In my case, life is not always the way it is expected. Sometimes life kills me but up until today, I am still standing straight and I am proud to be able to withstand the toughest time of life.
People would not believe that I once was pretty poor. I accept the fact that I was born in a small and poor family. Life was somewhat different those days. I simply had no expectations whatsoever in life. I thought my life would just end up in my little town where everything seems to be simple and slow. Every time I had a chance to tell my beloved students about how life can be changed if one dares to accept the fact and dares to accept challenges without having scared of what consequences would be like. Life itself is already a risk. There’s nothing one can do. Nothing…
When I look back at the time when I was a freshman in my college, a little tear would fall down without my acknowledgement. I know, people may not be able to feel how bad the situation is but to sigh… There was once I used to spend my evenings collecting 5 cents coins in front of Giant Supermarket in Section 17, Shah Alam. I would wander about like a vulture, scrutinizing every corner of the parking lot, just to collect as much as I could for my breakfast or perhaps lunch too. There’s nothing to be ashamed off. I didn’t steal. I collected them.
When I was a lot younger, both of my parents had to work hard but the money was never enough. It was not because we lavishly spent but because of the salary was too little to live by. My dad earned RM15 per day! And, my mom had to make curry puffs to be sold in our village. I understood the hardship that they both had gone through. There were times too, when we had nothing to eat but rice. My mom would make porridge and I ate it with a dash of sugar as a flavor. At weekends, my dad and I would go to a jungle to catch some quails and sometimes we fished. We caught a few and those were our food for the whole week.
Sometimes, I just feel that, life is just a phase and I believe in myself. I never expected my parents to understand simply because they too were difficult at that time. I did not want to burden their life. We survived. I made it. Though I am not a rich man now but I have enough food to eat and pretty decent clothes to wear. I always believe in myself.
When the going gets tough, the tough gets going…
People would not believe that I once was pretty poor. I accept the fact that I was born in a small and poor family. Life was somewhat different those days. I simply had no expectations whatsoever in life. I thought my life would just end up in my little town where everything seems to be simple and slow. Every time I had a chance to tell my beloved students about how life can be changed if one dares to accept the fact and dares to accept challenges without having scared of what consequences would be like. Life itself is already a risk. There’s nothing one can do. Nothing…
When I look back at the time when I was a freshman in my college, a little tear would fall down without my acknowledgement. I know, people may not be able to feel how bad the situation is but to sigh… There was once I used to spend my evenings collecting 5 cents coins in front of Giant Supermarket in Section 17, Shah Alam. I would wander about like a vulture, scrutinizing every corner of the parking lot, just to collect as much as I could for my breakfast or perhaps lunch too. There’s nothing to be ashamed off. I didn’t steal. I collected them.
When I was a lot younger, both of my parents had to work hard but the money was never enough. It was not because we lavishly spent but because of the salary was too little to live by. My dad earned RM15 per day! And, my mom had to make curry puffs to be sold in our village. I understood the hardship that they both had gone through. There were times too, when we had nothing to eat but rice. My mom would make porridge and I ate it with a dash of sugar as a flavor. At weekends, my dad and I would go to a jungle to catch some quails and sometimes we fished. We caught a few and those were our food for the whole week.
Sometimes, I just feel that, life is just a phase and I believe in myself. I never expected my parents to understand simply because they too were difficult at that time. I did not want to burden their life. We survived. I made it. Though I am not a rich man now but I have enough food to eat and pretty decent clothes to wear. I always believe in myself.
When the going gets tough, the tough gets going…
Saturday, July 19, 2008
True Friend...
Hi fellas,
People say good friends are hard to find. Indeed I agree with that saying. Life is all about having someone who you can be with and someone who you can trust. As a normal boy back then, I had a lot of friends. Some of them are just friends and some are real close friends. I know the definition of friend can be varied between one individual to another. But for me, friends are meant to be the one who I can assume to be like brothers and sisters, perhaps.
Back in my hometown, I had this one friend. He was a cool person. Cool as in he was very calm and he joked a lot. The thing is he didn’t have many friends. In fact, some boys didn’t like him because they thought he looked kind of weird. My house is close to his. Every time I saw him playing with his little brothers under their house. I wondered why some of my friends didn’t want to invite him to play with us. They told me stories about him and some were just plain ridiculous.
So, one fine day, I went up to him and I greeted him. He smiled and greeted me back. I saw he was fixing his bicycle and his hands were both dirty and oily. I made some small chat with him while my eyes were busy observing him, from his clothes to his behavior. One little thing I noticed that his hands from biceps and below were kind of a bit twisted. I was curious and I almost popped out the questions but then again I didn’t want him to feel bad. Anyway, I invited him to come over to my house to play with some of my little soldiers. He looked at me and smiled, without saying a word, he continued repairing his bicycle. Then, I could feel the existence of coldness in our conversation. I felt kind of a bit strange at first. So, I bid him goodbye and hoped to see him around.
A few days later, while I was playing alone in my house because it was raining, suddenly I heard someone knocking at the door. My mom opened and there he stood with a plastic bag of mangoes. He gave them to my mom and said it was from his father’s orchard. He was half wet and I quickly went to him and I invited him to play with me. However, he didn’t say anything but I insisted him to stay for a while. Then, he stayed and my mom made some orange cordial for both of us to drink and served some biscuits to eat. He was a very shy person. He didn’t speak much and I had to start each and every conversation with him. Then, slowly I could feel that he was a good person but he didn’t have many friends because he was shy. From that day onwards, I often visited him whenever I saw him fixing his bicycle or his brothers’ bicycles. And, he often visited me too. We both slowly became good friends. I learned how to fix bicycle from him. He started to become slightly open to me and he joked more than I expected.
I guess, there is so much in a person to see when one is closer to each other. I would have never expected he was a very calm and lively person to be with. But, he was somehow different when some other friends were around. I probably had this little ‘key’ which could open his true self without having trying so hard. During my school break, I spent my teenage years with him. Sadly, he was not good in a formal education setting. But, deep down, he had some skills in certain areas. He is married now and he has two boys. He does some odd jobs, here and there to keep things going, in my hometown. Whenever I go back to my hometown, I never fail to visit him, collecting some of my old clothes to be given to him, buy a pair of T-shirt or a shirt for him and he never fails to come to my house bringing some traditional cakes and some salted fish for me to bring back to KL. He would sit for hours with me, catching up some stories which I have missed. Then, we would go out and have some meals. Sometimes at night, he would come over and we chat. There is always something to talk about. We both could relate to each other well.
Mutual Friendship…
People say good friends are hard to find. Indeed I agree with that saying. Life is all about having someone who you can be with and someone who you can trust. As a normal boy back then, I had a lot of friends. Some of them are just friends and some are real close friends. I know the definition of friend can be varied between one individual to another. But for me, friends are meant to be the one who I can assume to be like brothers and sisters, perhaps.
Back in my hometown, I had this one friend. He was a cool person. Cool as in he was very calm and he joked a lot. The thing is he didn’t have many friends. In fact, some boys didn’t like him because they thought he looked kind of weird. My house is close to his. Every time I saw him playing with his little brothers under their house. I wondered why some of my friends didn’t want to invite him to play with us. They told me stories about him and some were just plain ridiculous.
So, one fine day, I went up to him and I greeted him. He smiled and greeted me back. I saw he was fixing his bicycle and his hands were both dirty and oily. I made some small chat with him while my eyes were busy observing him, from his clothes to his behavior. One little thing I noticed that his hands from biceps and below were kind of a bit twisted. I was curious and I almost popped out the questions but then again I didn’t want him to feel bad. Anyway, I invited him to come over to my house to play with some of my little soldiers. He looked at me and smiled, without saying a word, he continued repairing his bicycle. Then, I could feel the existence of coldness in our conversation. I felt kind of a bit strange at first. So, I bid him goodbye and hoped to see him around.
A few days later, while I was playing alone in my house because it was raining, suddenly I heard someone knocking at the door. My mom opened and there he stood with a plastic bag of mangoes. He gave them to my mom and said it was from his father’s orchard. He was half wet and I quickly went to him and I invited him to play with me. However, he didn’t say anything but I insisted him to stay for a while. Then, he stayed and my mom made some orange cordial for both of us to drink and served some biscuits to eat. He was a very shy person. He didn’t speak much and I had to start each and every conversation with him. Then, slowly I could feel that he was a good person but he didn’t have many friends because he was shy. From that day onwards, I often visited him whenever I saw him fixing his bicycle or his brothers’ bicycles. And, he often visited me too. We both slowly became good friends. I learned how to fix bicycle from him. He started to become slightly open to me and he joked more than I expected.
I guess, there is so much in a person to see when one is closer to each other. I would have never expected he was a very calm and lively person to be with. But, he was somehow different when some other friends were around. I probably had this little ‘key’ which could open his true self without having trying so hard. During my school break, I spent my teenage years with him. Sadly, he was not good in a formal education setting. But, deep down, he had some skills in certain areas. He is married now and he has two boys. He does some odd jobs, here and there to keep things going, in my hometown. Whenever I go back to my hometown, I never fail to visit him, collecting some of my old clothes to be given to him, buy a pair of T-shirt or a shirt for him and he never fails to come to my house bringing some traditional cakes and some salted fish for me to bring back to KL. He would sit for hours with me, catching up some stories which I have missed. Then, we would go out and have some meals. Sometimes at night, he would come over and we chat. There is always something to talk about. We both could relate to each other well.
Mutual Friendship…
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Monkey Love...
Hi fellas,
It is funny to think about my past. I know that my past isn’t that great but full of adventures and lots of trials and errors. I learnt. I understood how things worked. But there is one thing which took me years to understand…LOVE. Love is such a difficult thing to understand and I realized how hard it is to fall in love and it is even harder when you fail in love.
As I could recall, I guess my first monkey love was when I was 15 years old. I totally had no idea that little feeling which I had was actually what people call it LOVE. It is such a strange thing for me and until now I can feel it but at least now I know what it means. There was this one girl who came to my school. She had long silky hair and pretty much a girl boys would love to be with. At that time, I had a friend. He somehow liked the girl too. I know what you all are thinking... Well, it was definitely a “Bermuda Triangle Love Story”. A friend of mine came to me and told me how he felt about the girl. Pretending to be an idiot, I nodded and agreed with whatever he had to say, though deep down in me I had almost similar or maybe deeper feeling for the girl.
Anyway, after a couple of months, my class teacher asked for some volunteers to do some presentations for the coming Teachers’ Day. My friend came to me and told me his idea for the Teachers’ Day which somehow had some elements of wooing the girl. All I could do was to agree and smiled back at him. So, he went up to the teacher and volunteered himself. The girl who sat two rows in front of me turned and smiled at me. I bet that was the sweetest smile I had ever seen in my life. All of a sudden, my heart started beating so hard and I could practically felt cold sweat dripping down from my forehead. I felt uncomfortable and my mind was clouded and I thought I was going to die that very moment. Then, a few seconds later, suddenly one brilliant idea went across my mind. I said quietly to myself, I wanted to volunteer and present something on that day. I stood up and I walked up to my teacher and smiled at her. She asked me what would I do on that day, and I automatically answered that I wanted to sing. Oh dear Lord! What the heck am I doing? My teacher smiled and nodded. And I turned around and walked back to my seat with all bloody curses…Silly!! Silly!! Silly!!
About two days later, during break time, the girl came to me and she asked me what song I would sing for the Teachers’ Day. I smiled and I said “Right Here Waiting”. What?! I said in my heart. She smiled. Her beautiful eyes glittered and they made me so nervous. She wished me good luck. Oh dear, at that moment, I just realized that Teachers’ Day was only two days away. I had a lot of preparations to do. In fact, I had no idea why in the hell I would volunteer myself for such thing. I was very silly. I looked at my friend who was very busy preparing for the day. He planned to recite a poem. I waved at him and he smiled back at me. I felt really guilty somehow and I knew I was not challenging him…was I?
I practiced singing the song. I strummed my guitar and I sang. My mom was a bit lost when she realized I was different than usual. She came up to me and asked me, why there’s sudden change in me. At first, I felt uncomfortable to talk to her but finally I let it out. I told her about this girl. My mom smiled at me and she advised me to go easy on it. She said, love is something pure and it is not meant to be forced. Love is unexpected and wonderful if one can treasure it with all his or her heart. Love is something simple and should not be complicated. Life is complicated but not loves. Wow…it was like and inspiration to me. My mom smiled and left. I guess she felt better at that moment knowing his only child was normal, just facing a little ‘glitch’ in life. So, I practiced my singing and guitar playing for the day.
The day had come. I brought my guitar to school. Some friends were impressed and did not expect me to play the guitar. Yes, I never told anyone about it. I kept it as a secret. And, that day everything came to light. My friend delivered his poem really well. And, it was my turn to present. I pulled out a chair and I sat with my guitar on my lap. A little nervous and cold sweat was dripping slowly. I strummed the guitar and I played the tune. I started singing. I looked at everyone’s face and I smiled. Miraculously, everyone seemed to enjoy my performance. I did not dare to look at the girl directly. Without my acknowledgment my song had come to an end. I ended it well. Then, round of big applause, bursting with all the cheering from the boys. My teacher smiled and shook my hand. My classmates requested another song but I had to refuse with the reason not enough time. Luckily it worked. The truth was I only practiced one song…
While I was busy packing my guitar, the girl came and she told me that she liked my performance. I thanked her and she offered me a glass of coke. I accepted it and thanked her again. From that day onwards, we became good friends and I did not dare to say anything to her which I thought would ruin our friendship if I decided to tell her the truth. However, the truth is something in which a person probably can never hide forever. She came to know about my true feeling for her when my friend told her that I liked her more than just a friend. I did tell my friend that I somehow liked her after the presentation and my friend and I were not in a very good term ever since. I apologized to him for keeping that little secret and I never expected that he would tell her about it. Upon knowing the truth she came to me and asked me to go out for a drink. I was clueless. I felt kind of a bit strange but I went out. She was pretty cool and she asked me a few questions (I felt as if I was being interrogated) and I had to be honest to her. I told her that I wanted to become her special one. So, there it went. I told her everything and strangely, she looked at me for a few seconds and she said ‘YES’. YES…?
Love is unexpected and pure…
It is funny to think about my past. I know that my past isn’t that great but full of adventures and lots of trials and errors. I learnt. I understood how things worked. But there is one thing which took me years to understand…LOVE. Love is such a difficult thing to understand and I realized how hard it is to fall in love and it is even harder when you fail in love.
As I could recall, I guess my first monkey love was when I was 15 years old. I totally had no idea that little feeling which I had was actually what people call it LOVE. It is such a strange thing for me and until now I can feel it but at least now I know what it means. There was this one girl who came to my school. She had long silky hair and pretty much a girl boys would love to be with. At that time, I had a friend. He somehow liked the girl too. I know what you all are thinking... Well, it was definitely a “Bermuda Triangle Love Story”. A friend of mine came to me and told me how he felt about the girl. Pretending to be an idiot, I nodded and agreed with whatever he had to say, though deep down in me I had almost similar or maybe deeper feeling for the girl.
Anyway, after a couple of months, my class teacher asked for some volunteers to do some presentations for the coming Teachers’ Day. My friend came to me and told me his idea for the Teachers’ Day which somehow had some elements of wooing the girl. All I could do was to agree and smiled back at him. So, he went up to the teacher and volunteered himself. The girl who sat two rows in front of me turned and smiled at me. I bet that was the sweetest smile I had ever seen in my life. All of a sudden, my heart started beating so hard and I could practically felt cold sweat dripping down from my forehead. I felt uncomfortable and my mind was clouded and I thought I was going to die that very moment. Then, a few seconds later, suddenly one brilliant idea went across my mind. I said quietly to myself, I wanted to volunteer and present something on that day. I stood up and I walked up to my teacher and smiled at her. She asked me what would I do on that day, and I automatically answered that I wanted to sing. Oh dear Lord! What the heck am I doing? My teacher smiled and nodded. And I turned around and walked back to my seat with all bloody curses…Silly!! Silly!! Silly!!
About two days later, during break time, the girl came to me and she asked me what song I would sing for the Teachers’ Day. I smiled and I said “Right Here Waiting”. What?! I said in my heart. She smiled. Her beautiful eyes glittered and they made me so nervous. She wished me good luck. Oh dear, at that moment, I just realized that Teachers’ Day was only two days away. I had a lot of preparations to do. In fact, I had no idea why in the hell I would volunteer myself for such thing. I was very silly. I looked at my friend who was very busy preparing for the day. He planned to recite a poem. I waved at him and he smiled back at me. I felt really guilty somehow and I knew I was not challenging him…was I?
I practiced singing the song. I strummed my guitar and I sang. My mom was a bit lost when she realized I was different than usual. She came up to me and asked me, why there’s sudden change in me. At first, I felt uncomfortable to talk to her but finally I let it out. I told her about this girl. My mom smiled at me and she advised me to go easy on it. She said, love is something pure and it is not meant to be forced. Love is unexpected and wonderful if one can treasure it with all his or her heart. Love is something simple and should not be complicated. Life is complicated but not loves. Wow…it was like and inspiration to me. My mom smiled and left. I guess she felt better at that moment knowing his only child was normal, just facing a little ‘glitch’ in life. So, I practiced my singing and guitar playing for the day.
The day had come. I brought my guitar to school. Some friends were impressed and did not expect me to play the guitar. Yes, I never told anyone about it. I kept it as a secret. And, that day everything came to light. My friend delivered his poem really well. And, it was my turn to present. I pulled out a chair and I sat with my guitar on my lap. A little nervous and cold sweat was dripping slowly. I strummed the guitar and I played the tune. I started singing. I looked at everyone’s face and I smiled. Miraculously, everyone seemed to enjoy my performance. I did not dare to look at the girl directly. Without my acknowledgment my song had come to an end. I ended it well. Then, round of big applause, bursting with all the cheering from the boys. My teacher smiled and shook my hand. My classmates requested another song but I had to refuse with the reason not enough time. Luckily it worked. The truth was I only practiced one song…
While I was busy packing my guitar, the girl came and she told me that she liked my performance. I thanked her and she offered me a glass of coke. I accepted it and thanked her again. From that day onwards, we became good friends and I did not dare to say anything to her which I thought would ruin our friendship if I decided to tell her the truth. However, the truth is something in which a person probably can never hide forever. She came to know about my true feeling for her when my friend told her that I liked her more than just a friend. I did tell my friend that I somehow liked her after the presentation and my friend and I were not in a very good term ever since. I apologized to him for keeping that little secret and I never expected that he would tell her about it. Upon knowing the truth she came to me and asked me to go out for a drink. I was clueless. I felt kind of a bit strange but I went out. She was pretty cool and she asked me a few questions (I felt as if I was being interrogated) and I had to be honest to her. I told her that I wanted to become her special one. So, there it went. I told her everything and strangely, she looked at me for a few seconds and she said ‘YES’. YES…?
Love is unexpected and pure…
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Early Education... (Pt. 2)
Hi fellas
My daily routine was pretty simple. I woke up in the morning. I went to school like every other kid. I studied. I went back home and I slept for two or three hours. Then, my father came back from work and we ate dinner together. At 6 p.m. I helped my parents with our little sate business. I completed my homework while waiting for customers to come and buy our sate. I started to learn about life when I looked at both of my parents. I knew it was not easy for both of them to make ends meet. I realized that both of them have tried and they would never give up, not on me nor to the hardship the life had offered them both.
My parents are very hardworking people. They are not the sort who would love to sit and doing nothing. My daddy for instance, he is a man full with energy and in fact he is so good with his hands. His carpentry skills are simply outstanding. Sometimes I wonder, what would my daddy be if he were to be given the opportunity to study and complete his education? He seems to be very good at many other things too like repairing broken things, his ‘mechanical engineering’ mind works brilliantly and his carving skills are just as good as some artists out there. Not too mention, his self-defend skills too. I learned a lot of things from looking at how he did things around the house and sometimes he taught me one or two. He is a man with not much of words. I don’t deny a person who doesn’t say much, indeed a person who knows a lot about things. I still remember the roughness of his palms when he scratched my back and that coarse skin has kept a million memories which he himself might not even remember. But as a son, I will always remember that coarse skin with a million reasons never to forget.
I love cooking and all. For me, cooking is life. Cooking makes me feel special. Something which I am in command and it frustrates me when I fail to meet my own expectations on the final products. There is nothing strange about a man who can cook. Most people seemed to be shocked when I told them that I cook and I love it. Or maybe they did not expect a person like me to cook, after all. When I was eight or nine years old, my mom would love to ask me to help her out in the kitchen. I sometimes felt lazy and hated it at first. She would make me wash some vegetables, peel onions (I hated it the most…made me cry…), cut and chop some vegetables, clean up fish and chicken. I did not see the point of me staying and helping her in the kitchen at that time. But, years gone by, I realized I did not have to depend on her especially when it comes to cooking and preparing food for lunch or dinner. Sometimes, I felt like it was a part of my duty as a member of the family to somehow participate and contribute in doing some household chores. When I was 11 years old I was already pretty good in the kitchen. I had already learnt how to cook rice, curry, how to fry (deep fry and stir fry) vegetables, steamed fish, roasted fish and a few more to name it. I didn’t realize this at all. These skills and passions came to me just like that. My mom has always been very patient in educating me. Though sometimes she could become a little strict and all. I understood her well for my mother is the light of my family whilst my father is the source of energy.
Now, when I think about both of them and my little brother, I realized how much I miss them all.
I know they miss me and love me like they always do...
My daily routine was pretty simple. I woke up in the morning. I went to school like every other kid. I studied. I went back home and I slept for two or three hours. Then, my father came back from work and we ate dinner together. At 6 p.m. I helped my parents with our little sate business. I completed my homework while waiting for customers to come and buy our sate. I started to learn about life when I looked at both of my parents. I knew it was not easy for both of them to make ends meet. I realized that both of them have tried and they would never give up, not on me nor to the hardship the life had offered them both.
My parents are very hardworking people. They are not the sort who would love to sit and doing nothing. My daddy for instance, he is a man full with energy and in fact he is so good with his hands. His carpentry skills are simply outstanding. Sometimes I wonder, what would my daddy be if he were to be given the opportunity to study and complete his education? He seems to be very good at many other things too like repairing broken things, his ‘mechanical engineering’ mind works brilliantly and his carving skills are just as good as some artists out there. Not too mention, his self-defend skills too. I learned a lot of things from looking at how he did things around the house and sometimes he taught me one or two. He is a man with not much of words. I don’t deny a person who doesn’t say much, indeed a person who knows a lot about things. I still remember the roughness of his palms when he scratched my back and that coarse skin has kept a million memories which he himself might not even remember. But as a son, I will always remember that coarse skin with a million reasons never to forget.
I love cooking and all. For me, cooking is life. Cooking makes me feel special. Something which I am in command and it frustrates me when I fail to meet my own expectations on the final products. There is nothing strange about a man who can cook. Most people seemed to be shocked when I told them that I cook and I love it. Or maybe they did not expect a person like me to cook, after all. When I was eight or nine years old, my mom would love to ask me to help her out in the kitchen. I sometimes felt lazy and hated it at first. She would make me wash some vegetables, peel onions (I hated it the most…made me cry…), cut and chop some vegetables, clean up fish and chicken. I did not see the point of me staying and helping her in the kitchen at that time. But, years gone by, I realized I did not have to depend on her especially when it comes to cooking and preparing food for lunch or dinner. Sometimes, I felt like it was a part of my duty as a member of the family to somehow participate and contribute in doing some household chores. When I was 11 years old I was already pretty good in the kitchen. I had already learnt how to cook rice, curry, how to fry (deep fry and stir fry) vegetables, steamed fish, roasted fish and a few more to name it. I didn’t realize this at all. These skills and passions came to me just like that. My mom has always been very patient in educating me. Though sometimes she could become a little strict and all. I understood her well for my mother is the light of my family whilst my father is the source of energy.
Now, when I think about both of them and my little brother, I realized how much I miss them all.
I know they miss me and love me like they always do...
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Early Education...
Hi fellas,
During my school years I used to be very naughty and all. Honestly, I didn’t like to study. My mom used to scold me for failing to complete my homework. There were times when I was so angry at her back for forcing me to study. Every morning I used to drag my heavy feet and with half awoke eyes to school. I couldn’t see the purpose of doing all of these. I knew both of my parents were very strict when it comes to education. They realized how important education was to me. They simply didn’t want me to end up like any one of them. My mom only managed to complete her Standard 3 and my dad was born during the Japanese occupation in Malaya. So… no school. I don’t blame them. They were born in a different ‘time zone’ and ‘era’. And, I was not.
I can still remember how naughty I was when I was in my Primary school. I loved teasing girls and made them cry. I would hide their pencils. I tied their school bags’ straps to chairs so that they couldn’t leave the class as fast as the boys. Sometimes, I took out staples and twisted them and pour a few on some girls’ chairs so when they sat on them they would jump up like sitting on a durian… I would laugh till my tears came out. There were a few occasions when my tears came out pouring not because of excitement but due to something we call ‘Corporal Punishment’. Ever heard of it? But even so, I would do it again. So much fun at the expense of others… When it was lunch break, my friends and I used to run to the back of the school. There were a few fruit trees owned by an old Chinese man. We would sneak out from a hole we made on a school fence. We climbed and tried to ‘get’ the fruit as much as we could. The best thing was when the owner of the orchard came we all ran away like as if we were blown by a big typhoon. To the old man (R.I.P) and some of my school mates (girls) I would personally like to apologize, wherever they may be.
I was just an average student. I did not dream big. All I could think of at that time was to complete my studies as fast as possible and I wanted to earn money. I am sure most of us have similar thinking. Until I was thirteen I started to realize that a person has to have a dream in life. Some of my friends were planning on going to colleges and universities. Me? No Idea! Had no plan at all. Nada! Zip! But deep down in me I wanted to get pretty decent results, if I could. I changed my learning styles. I started making a little effort of visiting library now and then. Though the main purpose was checking out some…you know what I mean. What..? I was just a thirteen year-old boy…But, trust me I was not an aggressive type, though I was a bit naughty and all. My parents started to realize the changes in me. They supported me and my mom wanted me to go for tuition. I kindly refused for I did not have much time to complete my school work if I were to attend one.
To be continued…
During my school years I used to be very naughty and all. Honestly, I didn’t like to study. My mom used to scold me for failing to complete my homework. There were times when I was so angry at her back for forcing me to study. Every morning I used to drag my heavy feet and with half awoke eyes to school. I couldn’t see the purpose of doing all of these. I knew both of my parents were very strict when it comes to education. They realized how important education was to me. They simply didn’t want me to end up like any one of them. My mom only managed to complete her Standard 3 and my dad was born during the Japanese occupation in Malaya. So… no school. I don’t blame them. They were born in a different ‘time zone’ and ‘era’. And, I was not.
I can still remember how naughty I was when I was in my Primary school. I loved teasing girls and made them cry. I would hide their pencils. I tied their school bags’ straps to chairs so that they couldn’t leave the class as fast as the boys. Sometimes, I took out staples and twisted them and pour a few on some girls’ chairs so when they sat on them they would jump up like sitting on a durian… I would laugh till my tears came out. There were a few occasions when my tears came out pouring not because of excitement but due to something we call ‘Corporal Punishment’. Ever heard of it? But even so, I would do it again. So much fun at the expense of others… When it was lunch break, my friends and I used to run to the back of the school. There were a few fruit trees owned by an old Chinese man. We would sneak out from a hole we made on a school fence. We climbed and tried to ‘get’ the fruit as much as we could. The best thing was when the owner of the orchard came we all ran away like as if we were blown by a big typhoon. To the old man (R.I.P) and some of my school mates (girls) I would personally like to apologize, wherever they may be.
I was just an average student. I did not dream big. All I could think of at that time was to complete my studies as fast as possible and I wanted to earn money. I am sure most of us have similar thinking. Until I was thirteen I started to realize that a person has to have a dream in life. Some of my friends were planning on going to colleges and universities. Me? No Idea! Had no plan at all. Nada! Zip! But deep down in me I wanted to get pretty decent results, if I could. I changed my learning styles. I started making a little effort of visiting library now and then. Though the main purpose was checking out some…you know what I mean. What..? I was just a thirteen year-old boy…But, trust me I was not an aggressive type, though I was a bit naughty and all. My parents started to realize the changes in me. They supported me and my mom wanted me to go for tuition. I kindly refused for I did not have much time to complete my school work if I were to attend one.
To be continued…
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
The Road...
...Not Taken
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel bothAnd be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth.
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same.
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
(Robert Frost; 1915)
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel bothAnd be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth.
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same.
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
(Robert Frost; 1915)
Monday, June 16, 2008
Childhood...
Hi fellas,
After several days of hot and dry days, this morning it rained. Oh boy, I am so glad it rained. At least the world isn’t that hot. This reminds me of my little hometown. The weather in my hometown can be very hot during the day. Since it is located along the coastal line, the heat is even greater especially in May, June and July. When I was young I used to spend my time swimming in the river, in front of my house at least 2 to 4 hours a day. Back then, to have an air-conditioned house was something luxurious. Not many could afford to get one. My mom used to ask me to stay inside the house but I simply couldn’t refuse playing with my friends outside. Kids, huh…
I still can recall there was a long school holiday which lasted about a month and a half. This was the best time for us all to meet up and play the whole day. My parents would send me back to my little hometown with the purpose of teaching me to be independent. Indeed, I learned to become an independent person though I didn’t realize it back then. I thought my parents would just want to shirk their responsibilities of taking care of me. Silly boy I was. I stayed at my aunt’s place. She took care of me and the best thing is she loves me so much just like her own son. She never gets angry at me, not even once. She ran a small grocery business in the village. I helped her out. I learned how to do business. She told me about things and I learned tons of good things from her.
As a 10-year-old boy, I was pretty naïve by nature. I was curious about everything. One day, one of my friends asked me to buy a pack of cigarette. I secretively bought one and my friend and I rode to the beach nearby. That was my first cigarette in my life. I smoked as if I have been smoking for years. Deep in my heart I knew I couldn’t lie to myself. Who am I kidding, right? I felt bad for what I did. The secret remains especially to my parents and my aunt. But not to you guys.
Back in my village, I learned how to catch fish and prawns. I spent my whole morning and afternoon fishing. My friends and I would sit at a wharf in front of my house with a few fishing rods each made from small bamboo sticks. We waited patiently and we chatted softly. We abused our skin under the hot and bright sunny day. We didn’t care. Our mission was pretty clear and simple, to catch fish. We caught a few sometimes we caught more than ten fish. This was our motivation. Fed up of fishing, I learned how to use fishing net. My friend owned a small sampan (boat) and a seasoned fishing net. We used that as our tools to start a small business. We were very patient. We both woke up at 6.30 in the morning. We went to a small hut to fry some rice to be mixed with some soil as our baits. Then we ate breakfast. After breakfast we paddled and we threw our baits all over the river. We let our bait sank and then we made another trip to go back to the first place we started baiting. I threw the fishing net into the river with the hope of getting some fish or even prawn too. To our surprise, we caught about a few kilos of fish and prawns. WOW! It worked.
We paddled back and with excitement we divided our catch into half. The next morning we tried again and we caught a lot more than the day before. So, we both decided to sell some at the market. We did it and we shared the profit. But, nothing stays the same all the time. There was time when we caught almost nothing and we felt sad. Time flew and we had to stop fishing because it was time for us to go back to school again. This simply is one of the neatest memories in my life.
Childhood years are the best time ever…
After several days of hot and dry days, this morning it rained. Oh boy, I am so glad it rained. At least the world isn’t that hot. This reminds me of my little hometown. The weather in my hometown can be very hot during the day. Since it is located along the coastal line, the heat is even greater especially in May, June and July. When I was young I used to spend my time swimming in the river, in front of my house at least 2 to 4 hours a day. Back then, to have an air-conditioned house was something luxurious. Not many could afford to get one. My mom used to ask me to stay inside the house but I simply couldn’t refuse playing with my friends outside. Kids, huh…
I still can recall there was a long school holiday which lasted about a month and a half. This was the best time for us all to meet up and play the whole day. My parents would send me back to my little hometown with the purpose of teaching me to be independent. Indeed, I learned to become an independent person though I didn’t realize it back then. I thought my parents would just want to shirk their responsibilities of taking care of me. Silly boy I was. I stayed at my aunt’s place. She took care of me and the best thing is she loves me so much just like her own son. She never gets angry at me, not even once. She ran a small grocery business in the village. I helped her out. I learned how to do business. She told me about things and I learned tons of good things from her.
As a 10-year-old boy, I was pretty naïve by nature. I was curious about everything. One day, one of my friends asked me to buy a pack of cigarette. I secretively bought one and my friend and I rode to the beach nearby. That was my first cigarette in my life. I smoked as if I have been smoking for years. Deep in my heart I knew I couldn’t lie to myself. Who am I kidding, right? I felt bad for what I did. The secret remains especially to my parents and my aunt. But not to you guys.
Back in my village, I learned how to catch fish and prawns. I spent my whole morning and afternoon fishing. My friends and I would sit at a wharf in front of my house with a few fishing rods each made from small bamboo sticks. We waited patiently and we chatted softly. We abused our skin under the hot and bright sunny day. We didn’t care. Our mission was pretty clear and simple, to catch fish. We caught a few sometimes we caught more than ten fish. This was our motivation. Fed up of fishing, I learned how to use fishing net. My friend owned a small sampan (boat) and a seasoned fishing net. We used that as our tools to start a small business. We were very patient. We both woke up at 6.30 in the morning. We went to a small hut to fry some rice to be mixed with some soil as our baits. Then we ate breakfast. After breakfast we paddled and we threw our baits all over the river. We let our bait sank and then we made another trip to go back to the first place we started baiting. I threw the fishing net into the river with the hope of getting some fish or even prawn too. To our surprise, we caught about a few kilos of fish and prawns. WOW! It worked.
We paddled back and with excitement we divided our catch into half. The next morning we tried again and we caught a lot more than the day before. So, we both decided to sell some at the market. We did it and we shared the profit. But, nothing stays the same all the time. There was time when we caught almost nothing and we felt sad. Time flew and we had to stop fishing because it was time for us to go back to school again. This simply is one of the neatest memories in my life.
Childhood years are the best time ever…
Friday, June 13, 2008
Dilemma...
Hi fellas,
It’s been a while since my last post. I guess fellow readers might think that this guy is just a joke. Nope. Well, I guess blogging is just something for fun. I would rather prefer to write when I have something to write about. Besides, my little angel did say that “Blogging is not an Obligation“. Speaking of which, I personally think that there is truth in that phrase.
Well, lately I had a little argument with my inner self. I am up until now still confuse. I wouldn’t mind letting my fellow readers to know what I deeply feel inside. Everyone has problem/s. I have my share too. I am at the junction of continuing working as a full-timer or should I dive into a part-timer. On one hand I have some responsibilities to be taken cared of. On the other, I guess I could earn double or perhaps triple of what I am getting now if I were to become a part-timer. However, the real deal here is by turning myself into a part-timer I would not know as in how much and for how long will I be able to earn the double or triple amount of what I have planned to get. I am seriously in dilemma now.
I know for some this may not be the biggest problem, after all. But, it is a pretty huge burden for me if I can’t make what I have planned. Now, sometimes I blame the existence of the word ‘IF’. Seriously fellas, this word shouldn’t be in our dictionary. So people keep on telling me that. I have been thinking about it for a while now. I know it isn’t easy to get a fulltime job these days. I would love to maintain it but that would limit myself and I notice that there’s so much time in between that I have wasted just by earning little money. I would love to utilize that time and turn it into $$$$$$$$. I am tied up with the job that I have now. I can’t be leaving my office as and when I like, even though I am not entirely needed at that particular time slot.
Now, please don’t get me wrong. No doubt, I do sound like a money minded person here but the reality is forcing me to think and act this way. In fact, I think I deserve some credit somehow. Why? That is because I hate to waste my time earning so little. I know my time is worth something more than that. I know it… Am I too afraid to leave my so called ‘comfort zone’ here? Is that the real issue? Probably yes… Probably I want to play safe. Ever thought of that? From a different angle, I can understand that this is just a temporary phase. But, in a long run, this will somehow affect me and my future badly. I can’t be forever earning this much and yet prices of things around are going to be skyrocketing even higher than what we can predict.
Fellow readers, life isn’t always about money and wealth. And, mind you that I am not chasing after money here. My real intention is to turn my precious time and to channel my energy into something worth while. There is no point for sitting and doing almost nothing and yet the time spent is paid good for nothing. With all the changes have taken place around… there is no reason for a person who is capable of doing something not to do extra but a plain laziness.
Still thinking…
It’s been a while since my last post. I guess fellow readers might think that this guy is just a joke. Nope. Well, I guess blogging is just something for fun. I would rather prefer to write when I have something to write about. Besides, my little angel did say that “Blogging is not an Obligation“. Speaking of which, I personally think that there is truth in that phrase.
Well, lately I had a little argument with my inner self. I am up until now still confuse. I wouldn’t mind letting my fellow readers to know what I deeply feel inside. Everyone has problem/s. I have my share too. I am at the junction of continuing working as a full-timer or should I dive into a part-timer. On one hand I have some responsibilities to be taken cared of. On the other, I guess I could earn double or perhaps triple of what I am getting now if I were to become a part-timer. However, the real deal here is by turning myself into a part-timer I would not know as in how much and for how long will I be able to earn the double or triple amount of what I have planned to get. I am seriously in dilemma now.
I know for some this may not be the biggest problem, after all. But, it is a pretty huge burden for me if I can’t make what I have planned. Now, sometimes I blame the existence of the word ‘IF’. Seriously fellas, this word shouldn’t be in our dictionary. So people keep on telling me that. I have been thinking about it for a while now. I know it isn’t easy to get a fulltime job these days. I would love to maintain it but that would limit myself and I notice that there’s so much time in between that I have wasted just by earning little money. I would love to utilize that time and turn it into $$$$$$$$. I am tied up with the job that I have now. I can’t be leaving my office as and when I like, even though I am not entirely needed at that particular time slot.
Now, please don’t get me wrong. No doubt, I do sound like a money minded person here but the reality is forcing me to think and act this way. In fact, I think I deserve some credit somehow. Why? That is because I hate to waste my time earning so little. I know my time is worth something more than that. I know it… Am I too afraid to leave my so called ‘comfort zone’ here? Is that the real issue? Probably yes… Probably I want to play safe. Ever thought of that? From a different angle, I can understand that this is just a temporary phase. But, in a long run, this will somehow affect me and my future badly. I can’t be forever earning this much and yet prices of things around are going to be skyrocketing even higher than what we can predict.
Fellow readers, life isn’t always about money and wealth. And, mind you that I am not chasing after money here. My real intention is to turn my precious time and to channel my energy into something worth while. There is no point for sitting and doing almost nothing and yet the time spent is paid good for nothing. With all the changes have taken place around… there is no reason for a person who is capable of doing something not to do extra but a plain laziness.
Still thinking…
Saturday, June 7, 2008
Splashed...
Hi fellas,
While sipping a cup of tea, my mind was busy thinking. I stood up and walked to the window in my bedroom. I could see some trees and green grass… All of sudden, a glimpse of the past flashed through my eyes. The trees and the grass brought me back to the time when I was ten. I could still recall some of the familiar faces around me. The smell of burning wood from kitchens in my small village seemed to be apart of our little life. The sounds of birds chirping, flying and sitting precariously from branches to branches were nothing but merely a common sight. Once in a while soft breeze gave a light touch on my cheeks.
I used to run to a wharf, in front of my old wooden house with my friends. Then, when we reached at the end of it, we jumped into the river. The sounds of water splashing all over the place added some excitement to us all. We swam and we dove. Sometimes we pulled each others’ legs pretended as if a monster was pulling us down to the bottom of the river. Then, we stopped and floated. We chatted with each other. After recuperating for a short while, we challenged each other. We swam across the wide river and came back to the wharf again. One thing I notice, we didn’t care about our safety. We didn’t have so much fear in our mind. For us all, excitement and the adrenalin of challenging each other were far more important than the fear of being eaten by a crocodile or drowned.
Then, from far away, I could hear my mother’s voice calling us all back for lunch. There were times when I refused to go back and I got scolded by my parents. I hated it. I didn’t know how much my parents loved and cared for me. All I had in mind was to have fun with my friends…nothing more and nothing less. It was plain innocent. Life is so much simpler back then. I know this now. Sometimes I wish to go back to that time again to catch all of the excitement... once more.
Thrill isn’t just something…
While sipping a cup of tea, my mind was busy thinking. I stood up and walked to the window in my bedroom. I could see some trees and green grass… All of sudden, a glimpse of the past flashed through my eyes. The trees and the grass brought me back to the time when I was ten. I could still recall some of the familiar faces around me. The smell of burning wood from kitchens in my small village seemed to be apart of our little life. The sounds of birds chirping, flying and sitting precariously from branches to branches were nothing but merely a common sight. Once in a while soft breeze gave a light touch on my cheeks.
I used to run to a wharf, in front of my old wooden house with my friends. Then, when we reached at the end of it, we jumped into the river. The sounds of water splashing all over the place added some excitement to us all. We swam and we dove. Sometimes we pulled each others’ legs pretended as if a monster was pulling us down to the bottom of the river. Then, we stopped and floated. We chatted with each other. After recuperating for a short while, we challenged each other. We swam across the wide river and came back to the wharf again. One thing I notice, we didn’t care about our safety. We didn’t have so much fear in our mind. For us all, excitement and the adrenalin of challenging each other were far more important than the fear of being eaten by a crocodile or drowned.
Then, from far away, I could hear my mother’s voice calling us all back for lunch. There were times when I refused to go back and I got scolded by my parents. I hated it. I didn’t know how much my parents loved and cared for me. All I had in mind was to have fun with my friends…nothing more and nothing less. It was plain innocent. Life is so much simpler back then. I know this now. Sometimes I wish to go back to that time again to catch all of the excitement... once more.
Thrill isn’t just something…
Friday, June 6, 2008
Simple...?
Hi fellas,
When I woke up this morning, I just realized how much I miss my little hometown. The food, the people, the air and the lifestyle are totally different. I just couldn't figure out why I feel that way these few days. Maybe because of too tired thinking about life that I have at the moment. I don't mean it is bad but I guess it isn't really fulfilling for a man of my age. I feel like there are lots more good things out there for me. Now, don't get me wrong...(my little bb). I meant career wise and opportunities to go further in life.
I feel lost sometimes and I know I am not the only one. Thousands of people out there are probably in the same situation too. I have left my parents and my little hometown for about 15 years now. I was, in fact I am still searching for the best. I believe there are many successful people out there who dare themselves to leave their comfort zone. And, I long to be one of them. No doubt, I have a pretty decent job with a pretty decent salary but I still feel there's more for me. People say that is just a human nature... Deep down in me keeps on telling that there's no stopping in life until one calls it off. Is it true?
Well, when I look back from where I started my journey in life, I realize there are so many changes that have taken place in my simple life. I know I am different from the rest of my best buddies in my little hometown. Most of them have their own families. They fit into the society well. I could see their smile of satisfaction. Is it real or otherwise? All I know is I chose to be different. I chose to be far apart from them all. I chose not to grow and live among them. My choices have changed my true self. A few times when I went back to my hometown, I tried to fit myself into that little society, but it ended up with frustration. I just couldn't see where I fit the best. Questions over questions popped up into my mind...unanswered.
I guess, life isn't that simple after all.
When I woke up this morning, I just realized how much I miss my little hometown. The food, the people, the air and the lifestyle are totally different. I just couldn't figure out why I feel that way these few days. Maybe because of too tired thinking about life that I have at the moment. I don't mean it is bad but I guess it isn't really fulfilling for a man of my age. I feel like there are lots more good things out there for me. Now, don't get me wrong...(my little bb). I meant career wise and opportunities to go further in life.
I feel lost sometimes and I know I am not the only one. Thousands of people out there are probably in the same situation too. I have left my parents and my little hometown for about 15 years now. I was, in fact I am still searching for the best. I believe there are many successful people out there who dare themselves to leave their comfort zone. And, I long to be one of them. No doubt, I have a pretty decent job with a pretty decent salary but I still feel there's more for me. People say that is just a human nature... Deep down in me keeps on telling that there's no stopping in life until one calls it off. Is it true?
Well, when I look back from where I started my journey in life, I realize there are so many changes that have taken place in my simple life. I know I am different from the rest of my best buddies in my little hometown. Most of them have their own families. They fit into the society well. I could see their smile of satisfaction. Is it real or otherwise? All I know is I chose to be different. I chose to be far apart from them all. I chose not to grow and live among them. My choices have changed my true self. A few times when I went back to my hometown, I tried to fit myself into that little society, but it ended up with frustration. I just couldn't see where I fit the best. Questions over questions popped up into my mind...unanswered.
I guess, life isn't that simple after all.
Thursday, June 5, 2008
The Beginning
Hi fellas,
I am glad that my blog looks a lot better now than when I first started it. Thanks to my little angel...:p
Everything has its own beginning. My life started in a small town called Mukah, Sarawak. A little town where people seem to know each other more than the town where I live in now. People in Mukah are quite simple in nature. Most of them are fishermen. Some are farmers, some are businessmen and some are government officers.
People in Mukah speak 'Melanau' language. I know most people don't really know what it is. Well, let us put it this way, this language has its own prose and linguistic features of its own. Though there some words are clearly borrowed from Bahasa Melayu and English can be heard too. And, the most interesting thing is Melanau language is varied based on the location or region; Melanau regional dialects.
The food. Basically, Melanau people eat similar food like the Malays. However, we do have our own specialities like for instance, Sago, Umai, Linut/Ambuyat, Tebaloi and a few others to name it. The most unique and exotic type of food among the Melanaus is called 'Sie Et'. It is gross in nature especially for those who don't fancy eating 'grubs, worms or medium-sized maggots'. Your first response would be....YUCK!!! Now, that is for sure... Well, it is proven that this Sago Worms have its very own goodness and they contain lots of protein... You know what it means, right...good for the Brain. My mom used to cook it when I was young... Yummy.
Ambuyat
'Sie Et'
One might wonder why I wrote this post. I guess, history is a focal element in which it may determine how a person reacts and sees the world from one's perspective.
Reflection of life...
I am glad that my blog looks a lot better now than when I first started it. Thanks to my little angel...:p
Everything has its own beginning. My life started in a small town called Mukah, Sarawak. A little town where people seem to know each other more than the town where I live in now. People in Mukah are quite simple in nature. Most of them are fishermen. Some are farmers, some are businessmen and some are government officers.
People in Mukah speak 'Melanau' language. I know most people don't really know what it is. Well, let us put it this way, this language has its own prose and linguistic features of its own. Though there some words are clearly borrowed from Bahasa Melayu and English can be heard too. And, the most interesting thing is Melanau language is varied based on the location or region; Melanau regional dialects.
The food. Basically, Melanau people eat similar food like the Malays. However, we do have our own specialities like for instance, Sago, Umai, Linut/Ambuyat, Tebaloi and a few others to name it. The most unique and exotic type of food among the Melanaus is called 'Sie Et'. It is gross in nature especially for those who don't fancy eating 'grubs, worms or medium-sized maggots'. Your first response would be....YUCK!!! Now, that is for sure... Well, it is proven that this Sago Worms have its very own goodness and they contain lots of protein... You know what it means, right...good for the Brain. My mom used to cook it when I was young... Yummy.
Ambuyat
'Sie Et'
One might wonder why I wrote this post. I guess, history is a focal element in which it may determine how a person reacts and sees the world from one's perspective.
Reflection of life...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
