It’s Final

It’s final. Both Yummy Baby and I will be settling down and will be migrating at the end of the month.

We made the decision early this afternoon and are now in the process of finalizing a few details.

We’re going to miss the friends whom we’ve always regarded as our own brothers and sisters, but we hope to come back once in a while, or hopefully they could come and visit us from time to time.

It would be different not having friends around. Our place has always been the Roman forum, and now someone’s place will have to take over that role.

We’re going to miss them terribly.

Tak Ada Taik…Tapi Ada Satu Taik

I was at the car workshop near my place just now minding my own business when out of the blue someone greeted me with a big slap on my back. Lucky for him I was surfing Gmail on my phone when he did that; usually instinct would tell me to quickly take one side-step, quick cuff applied to the Adam’s Apple, and knuckles to hit the nose bone so it would slide all the way back into the brain, maiming him instantly, killing him a few seconds later. I turned to look at him, half-pissed, and said, “Oh, hi!” I said. “I thought it was you. You were looking good from afar. Here you’re looking far from good.”

He laughed. “Isn’t it a bit early for sarcasms?” he asked.

Oh, WOW! He actually knows what SARCASM is. I thought that such a big word would be beyond his comprehension. Somehow, it hits me that although he knows the definition of the word, he’s just too thick to recognise that it was directed at him. Seriously, I do not know anyone who hasn’t yet made a sarcastic remark or gesture towards him. If you feel pain in the butt, look behind you and you might just find him there. He is the type that during the Residents Association meetings, would interject at every single opportunity he gets. If you talk about security companies, he knows the best; if you talk about R.A-organised dinners; he would come out with the concept and how to go about it; when the BN local councillors didn’t do their job properly, the Opposition was good to him, Now he says that they are as bad as the ones in the BN. But when asked to be a committee member he would go, “It’s okay. You guys are doing a good job. Just carry on.” If you stand and chat in a group, he would butt in and take over the conversation. You want to change your oil filter, he would suggest something out-of-the-ordinary for your car. You talk about the problems your car has, he would tell you about his Beemer that is problem-free.

He is just a pain in the butt.

So there he was yakking away like a crazed Yak, going on about politics and so on, and how this Datuk and that Tan Sri had related to him the most confidential of all confidential details of the local political scene, while I ignored him completely, checking all e-mail accounts…repeatedly. The best part is, he kept on yakking away even when the foreman came to tell me to pick the car up at noon.

Suddenly he stopped. “I see you have been ignoring me,” he said. “Why do you people always ignore me like there is nothing I can give?

I put my phone into my pocket, held his shoulder and said, “There is something that only you can give that we all would like very much from you.

His eyes glittered as if he had just gotten the best news in life ever. “Really?” he smiled wide. “What’s that?

Your absence,” I replied and walked away leaving him dumbfounded.

I’m sure he has just found out that he is dumb.

On Tuesday This Blog Will End

I have received an e-mail from the host of this blog saying that in 5 days time this blog will die a natural death unless I instruct them to do otherwise.

Somehow, an old song by a punk group called The Clash comes to mind…

Should I stay or should I go now?
Should I stay or should I go now?
If I go there will be trouble
And if I stay it will be double

Cogito, ergo doleo.

~sigh~

I am indecisive

As I Turn 42…Part 2

For those who do not wish to scroll further down, please go HERE.

I cannot believe how pathetic drivers can be on the Malaysian roads. I had 2 cars in front of me last night with a ‘P’ for ‘Prick’ stickers stuck on their screens. One swerved from the left-most lane, cutting across the ‘Touch n Go’ and ‘SmartTag’ lanes just to get to the reload lane without turning on his indicator, then cut the queue right in front me. I was like, “WTF!” But I decided to keep my cool. It was the eve of my 42nd birthday and I was determined to stay happy and take Yummy Baby shopping. After queueing that long, his turn came. He got his wallet out, touched it against the scanner and, VOILA!…he had RM82++ credit in his stupid card! What an idiot! All the Touch n Go lanes were empty and he had to beat the queue, being a prick with a ‘P’ sticker by cutting across lanes, just to get through the toll gate?

Since I was already late, I hammered down at 170km/h down the NKVE, only to be slowed down by, yet another prick with a ‘P’ sticker, who decided to overtake the small lorry in front of him at 60km/h. Not that the lorry was doing 60km/h, but this prick was. Didn’t their stupid instructors teach them that if they turn into another person’s lane, they should be at, or attempt to be at, or faster than the speed of the person behind them who was already in the lane? What do idiot driving instructors teach here? Or is this another case of Black Coffee License? And this prick maintained that speed whilst the lorry also maintained 60km/h. Finally, it dawned upon him that his banged up Kancil could not sustain such high speeds, decided to put his foot on the brake pedal, causing me to do the same in turn, and the car behind me honked at me. After the idiot went back into the center lane and decided to turn on his indicator AFTER he had turn into that lane, I hammered down the highway at 170km/h again, then 160km/h down the SPRINT, past Semantan at 110km/h, and 140km/h down Lebuhraya Mahameru past PWTC.

Anyway, Yummy Baby made some corned beef filling for DYO sandwiches, while I made some corned beef fried rice, especially for Spena who’s never tasted my fried rice. I make meaner fried rice than Nik Nozrul Thani, okay, Sayang? It was supposed to be a supper somewhere outside as requested by Spena, but somehow, it turned into a small gathering with good friends like Rainmaker, Liverpool Babe, Spena and Rina Madonna Ciccone. Fellow Sicilian mafia like Gemgem Odorono Corleone was a no-show, while Gomba was busy keeping his Lu See Balls entertained somewhere in the north.

Komar and I
Rainmaker and I contemplating on what to eat next

Anyway, I woke up this morning because I was dreaming about the current political situation; and it made me rush to the toilet, not to puke, but to do big business. My shit reminds me of my feelings about politicians in this country, be they from the BN or from the PR. After 100 days, none of them are doing any work. So here is how I feel about them and their supporters who support them blindly:

For the politicians in Malaysia

As I Turn 42…

The last sunset of my 41st year on this earth

That’s the last sunset for the 41 years that I have lived on this earth.

A year ago everything was going wrong with my life; it was the start of my annus horribilis, or so I thought, but in the end, as it is mentioned in the Quran that “the end is always better than the beginning.

Sunset on 8th July 2007
The sunset on 8th July 2007

I was in two relationships that got nowhere; one was readily identified that nothing could be done about it that by mid July of last year, we remained just as friends although we still went out with each other, culminating in the closure done on 1st September 2007. This was followed by another one where I was given hope that it would conclude as something solid, a lifetime commitment by the other party – but that ended in a bad way on 9th December 2007. 2007 was the year I opened up my heart again to learn how to love as how it should be, but I was taught the painful way; the latter of two was a betrayal of sort. That betrayal almost made me a non-believer of love again. I met a few people along the way, nice people, and that helped me get through the painful days of trying to forget the person who ditched me, and I would like to thank them for helping to see me through.

Ironically, it was the person who hurt me most whom had “brought” me to this wonderful person who is now on the verge of sharing her life with me. In essence, we are already sharing our lives together, but the legal status is now being pursued actively. I had to attend that dinner that was “orchestrated” by this lovely person, because I have heard, by word of mouth, that her burgers are something to die for.

Her burgers
The home-made burgers to die for

And it was that stolen peck on the cheeks and subsequent bear hug that started the spark that the Rainmaker saw that night. Two days later, all the pieces fell into place beautifully, and a great journey commenced.

And I hope that a year from now, the sunset will be just as it was on this day, two years ago.

Sunset on 8th July 2006
Sunset on 8th July 2006

And I hope to watch the sunset every year on the 8th July, with her.

Kau Begitu Sempurna

I know I have posted this song before, but somehow I feel compelled to post it here again because it sums up my feelings for and thoughts of Yummy Baby. I am always choked with emotions whenever I listen to this song because it makes me think of her. She is just so perfect. So here it is again, Sempurna:

Kau begitu sempurna
Dimataku kau begitu indah
Kau membuat diriku akan slalu memujimu

Disetiap langkahku
Kukan slalu memikirkan dirimu
Tak bisa kubayangkan hidupku tanpa cintamu

Janganlah kau tinggalkan diriku
Takkan mampu menghadapi semua
Hanya bersamamu ku akan bisa

[Reff:]
Kau adalah darahku
Kau adalah jantungku
Kau adalah hidupku
Lengkapi diriku
Oh sayangku, kau begitu
Sempurna… Sempurna…

Kau genggam tanganku
Saat diriku lemah dan terjatuh
Kau bisikkan kata dan hapus semua sesalku

Janganlah kau tinggalkan diriku
Takkan mampu menghadapi semua
Hanya bersamamu ku akan bisa

[Reff:]
Kau adalah darahku
Kau adalah jantungku
Kau adalah hidupku
Lengkapi diriku
Oh sayangku, kau begitu
Sempurna… Sempurna…

Kau genggam tanganku
Saat diriku lemah dan terjatuh
Kau bisikkan kata dan hapus semua sesalku

Baby and I

Get Here

I was reading Aiz‘s blog about how she and her hubby, Din, carried pails of fresh water from the neighbour’s well to her father-in-law’s house because the area has been without water supply for the past week or so, and it reminds me of my childhood, whenever I was back at my maternal grandparents’ home.

There has never been piped water supplied to the house until mid-90s, and electricity first made its debut there in the mid-80s albeit a 12-hour daily supply from 7pm till 7am. So our daily routine there was to fetch water for the kitchen early in the morning, then again in the afternoon, and later in the evening. By 6pm , we would be filling up the kerosene tanks of the lamps and fire them up at 7pm. My cousin, Harry, and I would play with the rat-traps to see who has the fastest reaction: to pull away the hand before the trap fires. And we would end up with lots of minyak kambing gurun on our hands as we’d have those trap marks and wounds on our hands. We would throw stones at water buffaloes just so that they would chase after us, and we would run like hell either clamber up a tree, or jump into the nearby river. Of course, being in the kampung meant that I got away from punishments – but of course, my grandma would be screaming at us.

How I miss those days…carefree, no responsibilities, and life’s all fun.

After both my grandparents passed away back in 1998, I no longer had a kampung to go back to. No more well-water, no more being chased by water buffaloes. And now we’re in our 40s,

Aiz has this song as the background music for her blog. It’s retro but an evergreen. When I listened to it again on her blog, it reminds me of only one person, who awaits my return every single day.

Baby and I

Here is the live version of the song, enjoy.

Get Here – Oleta Adams – Various Artists

You can reach me by railway, you can reach me by trailway
You can reach me on an airplane, you can reach me with your mind
You can reach me by caravan, cross the desert like an Arab man
I don’t care how you get here, just – get here if you can

You can reach me by sail boat, climb a tree and swing rope to rope
Take a sled and slide down the slope, into these arms of mine
You can jump on a speedy colt, cross the border in a blaze of hope
I don’t care how you get here, just – get here if you can

There are hills and mountains between us
Always something to get over
If I had my way, surely you would be closer
I need you closer

You can windsurf into my life, take me up on a carpet ride
You can make it in a big balloon, but you better make it soon
You can reach me by caravan, cross the desert like an Arab man
I don’t care how you get here, just – get here if you can

I don’t care how you get here, just — get here if – you can.

One Full Circle

On 4th September of last year, someone commented on my blog for the first time. That was the beginning of a great friendship, somewhat platonic, great nonetheless. Since then, we’ve gone through turbulent times that have seen us both hurt by people who made promises to us and so on but took us for granted, but as I’ve written before this, we’ve always been there for each other, consoling the other. Somehow, we’ve always had each other to turn to.

We are now an item. We started going out six months after we first met, and it has been ten months since that day during the fasting month.

And it’s almost a year since my terrible times. I believe my life has come to a full circle. I can only love her more each day, and each day I find it harder to live a day without her.

And it is about time that I ask her to spend the rest of her life with me, through thick and thin, come what may.

What say my friends?

Rather The Pain Of Discipline Than The Pain Of Regret

Yesterday, as both father and mother, I had to go get my children’s report card. If you don’t do this, you won’t know what they have been up to in school, and you won’t know how they fare in their lessons.

Some parents take things for granted and put the onus of bringing up the children to the teachers at school. We shouldn’t. Well, I don’t do that. As I have written before, I had to grow up on my own, having parents who belong to the government, they were almost always never there to guide me when I was growing. The only reaction I would get should I not do well in my exams would be some cane or belt that would test the integrity of either the material of those things against the skin of the back of my thighs, or vice versa. And of course, once I was in college, it was all up to me to chart my own course whether I sink or swim.

Nowadays, parents are made to go to school to listen to the teachers and what they have to say about the children. And it is always good for parents to keep an open mind and listen to the teachers’ side of the story.

My day kicked off with my daughter Fazira, who is in Form One. She was involved in this group of girls made up of Britney Spears and Paris Hiltons, that she was more interested in cheerleading activities rather than concentrating on her studies. The fact that the elder two are in the same school doesn’t help because they are in the morning session whereas Fazira is in the afternoon session. According to her teacher, she was playful during the first three months…but somehow after I whacked her once, she doesn’t join that group much, and has shifted to sit next to a nerdy chinese girl. Since then, her English and Maths have improved tremendously. Although I am still not too happy with the overall results, at least she has realised the need to study hard.

Then it was Iqa, my stepdaughter’s turn. All my children undergo tuition. I got this teacher to come over to the house to teach them Maths and Science three times a week. On top of that, Iqa goes to a tuition center (supposedly a center for excellence near my place) once a week. However, Iqa did not do well at all. She flunked two of her core subjects whilst the rest were just enough to scrape through to pass. She has been sitting with an all-malay group. The problem is, all of them are bad in their studies, and as such, she is being dragged down as well. At the end of he session, I made her apologise to the teacher for failing to ask questions when she couldn’t comprehend the lessons, and for failing her subjects and potentially dragging the school’s name down. She cried. We left the classroom walking towards Hana’s classroom. I held Iqa close to me and told her how much I love her as my daughter, even if she isn’t my flesh and blood; but I was there for her and have always been since she was 8 years old. I told her that I am not going to be around for much longer, and she will have to chart the course of her life from now on. Life isn’t easy, but it can be made worse if as a parent I do not shape them up properly.

Next was Hana. She has improved tremendously since she has been mixing with her peers from other races, although she is still weak in Physics and Additional Mathematics. Both her teacher and I recommended that she spend at least an hour for each subject each day doing exercises. Nothing beats practical work.

After that, I took them for lunch at KFC. There, again, I told them how, as a child I had to grow up “on my own” with very little parental or adult guidance since I was eight. And to add to that, I was on my own in college since the age of 13. I explained to them how failing exams can affect their future. You can sit on the prayer mat 24/7 and pray for money until your forehead has permanent scabs, but if you do not put in any effort, your luck will not change. Not a single sen will fall from the sky.

In the end, we went back home, and I made them draw up a new timetable for them to study, and have reimposed the Wednesday Is English day programme. This time I will have to give them more weird words for them to find out the meaning and form their own sentences.

It isn’t easy being a parent…what more having to be both at the same time. But these are God’s little challenges, and the responsibilities He gave me that I have to shoulder.