Category: Daily Whatevers

This is how we determine which friend is the best.

First, find two products that represent our friends:

Gem’s red beans buns

Habibi’s red beans buns

Habibi’s buns are redder than Gem’s, and Gem’s buns are whiter than Habibi’s

The skin on Gem’s bun is harder to peel

Habibi’s skin is more tender and easier to peel off

So, for the full results of the testing, and to know which friend is better, please click on this LINK.

“Bibik Impianku”

Nasi lemak.

Hari-hari aku makan nasi lemak.

Sama aje lauknya.

Sambal sotong, telur rebus, rendang daging.

Hari-hari.

Sampaikan bila aku berak pun aku boleh nampak janggut sotong tu menguit-nguit sambil berenang dalam kolam kecil di bawah lubang jubor ku.

Jadi hari ni, aku ingat aku nak kelainan.

Hari ni, Si Jongos, bibik ku, agak rajin. Mungkin sebab dia terkejut tengok aku bangun awal pagi dan makan maggi goreng berjenama SEDAAP jam 6 pagi. Walhal aku baru balik rumah dan belum tidur. Jadi pertama kali aku melihat Si Jongos bekerja dan bukannya duduk sambil melihat bahagian dalam kelopak matanya sambil mulutnya ternganga mengalihkan perhatian lalat dan langau agar tidak menghinggap makanan yang ada di atas meja.

Jadi dengan kerajinan ini, aku menyuruhnya ke kedai depan untuk membeli untuk aku mee hoon goreng mamak, seraya beliau membeli sayur-sayuran untuk dimasak.

Aku pun lepak dalam kamar tidur sambil MemBUKU-MUKA. Kurang sejam kemudian, Si Jongos ketuk pintu kamarku, lalu masuk dengan talam berisi satu bungkusan, secawan Milo panas, dan suratkhabar kegemaranku (ingat, aku tak boleh makan seorang diri, ataupun berak, tanpa membaca).

Dengan penuh semangat aku buka bungkusan tersebut.

Cipet.

Malas betul Si Jongos nak melangkah dua muka pintu lagi ke kedai mamak.

Aku kena makan nasi lemak lagi.

Dan sotong akan berenang lagi hari ini.

Hari ni memang hari cipet.

Dah lah aku stress pagi tadi disebabkan sebab-sebab yang bodoh, dan tidak ada yang lagi bodoh dari yang bodoh ini jadi tolong saya, ya Tuhan. Tiba-tiba tadi di tengah-tengah NKVE, ada la satu kimek ni yang bawak Honda Accord 2004 bernombor pendaftaran WMV2277, memandu dalam lorong memotong paling kanan dengan kelajuan tidak melebihi 80 kilometer sejam.

Aku tengok aje la mamat cipet ni bawak kereta punya perlahan. Tak mengapalah. Aku ingatkan dia akan memotong kereta di sebelah kirinya…namun meleset. Kimek ni hanyalah sama laju dengan kereta di sebelah kiri. Dah berkoyan-koyan kereta beratur di belakang aku kasi lampu tinggi kat aku. Lalu aku pun menyampaikan pesanan pemandu-pemandu di belakang dengan memberikannya lampu tinggi sekali. Kepala butoh ni dengan tak semena-mena perlahankan kenderaannya tetapi tidak memberi ruang untuk aku memotong dari sebelah kiri.

“Bastard!” bahagian otak aku yang lebih beragama mula berkata. Lalu aku rapatkan lagi bahagian hadapan kereta aku ke belakang keretanya. Dia enggan berganjak. Bila aku dapat peluang memotong langsung aku memotong dari sebelah kiri. Kimek ni boleh kasi aku lampu tinggi pulak dan aku, disebabkan jarak sudah mula jauh dan suara aku mungkin tak sampai ke keretanya, gunakan jari tengahku sebagai bahasa isyarat.

Semasa menaiki Bukit Lanjan, kenderaan di hadapan mula perlahan. Kimek ni kemudiannya berada di belakang aku sambil memasang lampu tinggi. Aku tarik brek tangan dan kimek tu brek dengan cemas, sambil memetik-metik lampu tingginya, sambil cuba berlumba dengan aku.

Aku pun tak kasi peluang. Aku terus pecut meninggalkan barua tersebut di belakang.

“Eat shit, you dickhead,” kata ulama dalam otakku.

Memanglah.

Hari ni memang ramai orang yang bersikap lagi teruk dari butoh.

Sorry la aku banyak mencarut hari ni. Ya, aku sedang cool sebenarnya.

Cuba tengok aku bila aku tengah hot.

Pundek.

2004.

Si Baghal Bermata Juling cuba berdalih-dalih apabila aku ajukan persoalan kenapa perisian (software) yang dilaporkan siap sebenar-benarnya tidak lagi siap…malah satu benda yang sepatutnya telah lama siap, tidak pernah disudahkan oleh mereka-mereka yang datang dari sebuah sub-benua bersebelahan negara Parsi.

Maka keluarlah segala alasan dalam bahasa Ingggeris yang kaya dengan sabdu yang tebal sehingga menyukarkan aku memahami apa yang dipertuturkan oleh si Baghal Bermata Juling tersebut.

Lantas aku bahasakannya dengan kata-kata yang lebih kesat hinggakan terguris perasaannya sepertimana seseorang mencuci berak menggunakan kertas pasir nombor 4. Tetapi aku rasa fikiran aku itu meleset sebab mukanya bak sardin sahaja.

Memang cilakak! Dia boleh buat derk aje setelah berkajang perkataan yang aku luahkan.

Aku mesti kenakan jugak si Baghal Bermata Juling ini.

Lalu aku menengking, “LOOK AT ME WHEN I AM TALKING TO YOU!”

Dengan muka bodoh dan kepala yang berguling-guling, si Baghal Bermata Juling pun berkata dengan nada sedih, “But I am looking at you.”

Matanya satu memandang kepada rakan di sebelahku, yang satu lagi memang off-tangent terus.

Memang baghal.

Life has been funny. There were times last year that I felt like ending this life; then as I learnt to believe in happiness, sadness hit me squarely in the face; without reason too. I mean, I never learnt the reason for that particular sadness. I guess I never will, as I have been told that I will never be able to understand the reason behind the sadness, as no one will ever be able to understand how heartbroken I was then, and how excruciatingly torturous it was for me to go through those silent days, not knowing what the future had in store for me then. It was then that I confided in someone, although I, in turn, never expected that person to understand. But after tonight, I am happy because of that someone.

Anyway, it is 2.43am. I had a skipped heartbeat earlier tonight and about 20 minutes ago I had a bit of chest pains. Stress? Maybe. I don’t know. All I know is my son Farhan has pulled my blanket off me while sleeping.

Was at Aiz’s and Din’s the previous night. The food was great, the venue superb, the company excellent.

The owners cannot recognise numbers in numerical form

The place

Makan

Minum

Conteng

During the Second World War, the British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC) Radio broadcasted series of messages meant for the Resistance movements in Europe. These encoded messages could only be understood by the intended recipients of the respective messages. So here are two messages that I would like to pass to certain people:

1. The little bed has been fixed. It no longer collapse.
2. The dining table has been fixed. It no longer wobble.

Okay, back to serious business. Or so’s the intention.

It’s been a funny day yesterday, I think. Well, some aspects of it, I suppose. Yesterday must have been a day for kids somewhat. In the morning, 3/4 asleep, I drove my stepson Alim to school for his annual sports day. 4 hours later I went to pick him up. Then my daughter Nisaa demanded my attention. So I was with my children for a while, taking them out to the shops nearby to buy some stuff.

In the afternoon, again I was with kids playing football at a basketball court…playing father. Then bumped into an old friend who was taking his kids to a playground somewhere. Then I had a lovely time doing groceries…yes, doing groceries can be fun actually when there is a real purpose for doing so.

Then there was that stupid episode where this tudunged elderly woman who kept reciting “Bismillah” for every single thing she did, from picking up a chocolate at the PETRONAS counter to signing the credit card receipt. For a moment I thought she was a religious nut with a meat cleaver in her hand (much like Taukeh Daging and Pengagih Daging) ready to slaughter those deemed unIslamic. I was ready for my head to be removed. Why can’t she recite the damned thing quietly? God is not deaf. This is why I keep saying that God looks for spiritual fruits…not religious nuts.

However it was later at night when reality hits me squarely in the face. I keep tossing and turning again trying to sleep. I got up several times only to be disappointed to know that it was only 20 minutes before that I had woken up for the same reason…and I know today is going to pass very slowly.

Though I dread the end of each night, I cannot wait for night to come again.

That is when I’m at peace nowadays…