Currently attached to:
1. The Shadow of the Wind by Carlos Ruiz Zafon
2. Winter in Madrid by C.J. Sansom
" As Freud tells us, women want the opposite of what they think or say they want, which, when you consider it, is not so bad, because men, as is more than evident, respond, contrariwise, to the dictates of their genital and digestive organs " - Fermin in the former novel
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
Hedonism Amsterdam
Friday ~ 20 October 2006
The view of the midlands glanced by as the train made its way from Nottingham, Beeston, Loughborough, Leicester, Market Harborough, Kettering, Wellingborough, Bedford, and finally Luton. A short change to Luton Parkway Airport began my journey to Amsterdam. Arrived safely and sound at Schiphol Airport Amsterdam at approximately 10 pm (9pm UK time) via Easy Jet. Warm sight of Pak Uda relieved me, chatting while on our way to his place in Amstelveen, about 15 minutes from the airport. Had a heavenly sleep while the rain rattling on the window, breezed by the wind from the sea which the level is about 4 metres above Pak Uda's house. That is why Holland is named after, in Dutch it means 'the land in a hole' surrounded by the ocean. That night, the insulate climate whispered the songs by Phil Collins, Enrique Iglesias and Whitney Houston, and Juanes.
Saturday ~ 21 October 2006
Morning. It was windy as my eyes staring fixedly towards the window from the attic, the yellow leaves painted the glass. Accompanied Pak Uda, Mak Uda, and graceful Grandmother to East Amsterdam, bought some meat and chicken at a turkish market. Had a conversation with Pak Uda regarding the current development of the Dutch companies like KLM, Skoda, and Philips. Been told that the former and latter have been taken over by the French and the Czech, the only remaining left is Philips. My train of thoughts arrived to a blur conclusion that the Dutch is concentrating on their agricultural advantage, perhaps. As the car drifted around the city, I noticed that canals form important landscapes around it as a means of natural drainage from the sea. Paid a visit to Bovenkerk Mall and Ajax Stadium soon after.
In the afternoon, made our way towards Zaanse Schans; the place of wind mills, clog (a symbol of regional origin for those who wore it in Holland in the 19th century) and cheese factories. Passed by Bazaar Turkey, a location where cheap goods including meat and households itinerary can be found, attracting tourists and the Dutch as well. A story of Van Gogh really captured my attention, where the film producer was stabbed ferociously by a Moroccan as a result from the former's stupidity and lack of respect in showing a scene of a naked Muslim girl with the Koran's words all over her body in one of his movies. The ignorance paid its toll, which occured during the heat of the cartoon publication in Denmark. As the sun lost its smile, I went back, smiling of the sight of a Dutch lady feeding the cows, behind her was a big wind mill.
Comprehension arrived as the night came by, as the only main attraction in Amsterdam is the Red Light District. Believe me, apart from Centraal Station (1882-1889), Amstel, Canal Houses, Prins Hendrikkade, Dam Square, National Monument, and Koninklijk Palais (Royal Palace 1648-1665). I just knew that ABN-AMRO is the Dutch Bank, which sponsored Ajax FC. In addition, Holland is just about the size of half of the Peninsular of Malaysia and it takes about 4 hours from the end of the south towards the north. That night, the tram rattled away from Sacharovlaan near Pak Uda's place towards Oranjebaan, the curtain raiser of my night walk with my cousin. Most of the passengers smelled green, all the way.
Fear rose everytime I was about to cross the road. There are ways for bicycles, trams, buses, cars, and motorcycles worsened by my failure to adopt the left hand drive policy in this country; they complicated my sense of direction ;p One interesting fact, every Dutch owns a bicycle (as the land is flat, cycling from one place to the other is such a pleasure), and every Dutch experiences the loss of it from bicycle thieves ;) There is a huge space for bicycles at the Centraal, it is very huge till I wonder how on earth one will know which one is his?
Red light district self-touring commenced beyond the red-glowed small pillars. Window shopping made me laughed. Live show made me laughed even more. Smokey bar made me laughed the worst in this capital of hedonism. Hedonism, to the extent the illegals became legal is the sole attraction of the city. Tour it for my general knowledge, for every country has its own differing policies and legislations. It rang my bell of curiosity on why the Dutch students do not go oversea for tertiary education and it was understood by the fact that the education is free in this country. From the baby was born, everything would be taken care of by the government including if one's inability to buy a buggy due to financial constraint the government would fund it, and the human-norm teaches us the words 'thankful' and 'appreciate', and the same goes to the Dutch people. The black aspect glided through, as once a Dutch turns 21 he shall live on his own away from his parents for self-independent, in my opinion it affects one's grey relationship with his family. Worse, old citizens shall stay on their own too in places provided by the government with the reason not to burden their children, which I arrived to the same conclusion as before. Family is the most important part in our life, I strongly believe.
Sunday 22 October 2006 ~
Two trips. One was cherishing the 400th celebration of Rembrandt, the Dutch artists at Rijksmuseum and the second was the trip to Anne Frank House at Prinsengracht. The former, as it was called The Masterpieces, witnessed the fact that never have the Netherlands been so wealthy and powerful in the 17th century, the Golden Age. In the Eighty Years' War (1568-1648) the Dutch expelled their Spanish rulers and established an independent state. It was not long before the Republic of the Seven United Provinces became one of Europe's leading nations. The country grew rich on trade and shipping, merchants amassed fortunes and art and culture flourished. The museum presents the beautiful dolls' houses, a wealth of silverware, the best delftware, the spectacular civic company pieces, and of course the public's favourites like the famous paintings by Jan Steen, Frans Hals, Vermeer and Rembrandt. Over 400 masterpieces are on show. In a nutshell, they give an impressive picture of the political, economic, and artistic miracle of the Dutch Golden Age.
I relished the study of literature during my secondary school at Prinsengracht, where Anne Frank wrote her famous diary in the secret annexe of the house. The Jewish families Frank, Van Pels, and Mr. Pfeffer hid in the secret annexe from July 1942 until August 1944. But there were many more Jewish Amsterdam residents who managed to find a place to hide. Some 25,000 Jews lived in hiding across the Netherlands during the war. One-third of them were arrested anyway - ofen after being betrayed - and then murdered. Near Prinsengracht there is Gay Monument at Keizersgracht. It commemorates the persecution of homosexuals across the centuries. The monument is made up of three pink triangles. The pink triangle was the distinguishing mark homosexual prisoners had to wear on their clothes in the concentration camps in Nazi Germany. My Sunday night was a pleasure in having a waffle with Belgian chocolate at Australian Homemade in the city centre, flown away by the song Mr. Postman by The Carpenters.
Monday 23 October 2006 ~
Eid.
Lemang.
Nasi impit.
Rendang ayam.
Rendang daging.
Serunding.
Pak Uda and family.
Abang Ar, my cousin who paid a visit as a break from his Euro Trip at the moment from Berlin.
Nenek.
The voice of Mak and Abah, the well being of Adik and Nurul.
They all explained the day. Enough said. Dot.
I hope I will be able to confide everything to you, as I have never been able to confide in anyone , and I hope you will be a great source of comfort and support - Anne Frank, 12 June 1942
The view of the midlands glanced by as the train made its way from Nottingham, Beeston, Loughborough, Leicester, Market Harborough, Kettering, Wellingborough, Bedford, and finally Luton. A short change to Luton Parkway Airport began my journey to Amsterdam. Arrived safely and sound at Schiphol Airport Amsterdam at approximately 10 pm (9pm UK time) via Easy Jet. Warm sight of Pak Uda relieved me, chatting while on our way to his place in Amstelveen, about 15 minutes from the airport. Had a heavenly sleep while the rain rattling on the window, breezed by the wind from the sea which the level is about 4 metres above Pak Uda's house. That is why Holland is named after, in Dutch it means 'the land in a hole' surrounded by the ocean. That night, the insulate climate whispered the songs by Phil Collins, Enrique Iglesias and Whitney Houston, and Juanes.
Saturday ~ 21 October 2006
Morning. It was windy as my eyes staring fixedly towards the window from the attic, the yellow leaves painted the glass. Accompanied Pak Uda, Mak Uda, and graceful Grandmother to East Amsterdam, bought some meat and chicken at a turkish market. Had a conversation with Pak Uda regarding the current development of the Dutch companies like KLM, Skoda, and Philips. Been told that the former and latter have been taken over by the French and the Czech, the only remaining left is Philips. My train of thoughts arrived to a blur conclusion that the Dutch is concentrating on their agricultural advantage, perhaps. As the car drifted around the city, I noticed that canals form important landscapes around it as a means of natural drainage from the sea. Paid a visit to Bovenkerk Mall and Ajax Stadium soon after.
In the afternoon, made our way towards Zaanse Schans; the place of wind mills, clog (a symbol of regional origin for those who wore it in Holland in the 19th century) and cheese factories. Passed by Bazaar Turkey, a location where cheap goods including meat and households itinerary can be found, attracting tourists and the Dutch as well. A story of Van Gogh really captured my attention, where the film producer was stabbed ferociously by a Moroccan as a result from the former's stupidity and lack of respect in showing a scene of a naked Muslim girl with the Koran's words all over her body in one of his movies. The ignorance paid its toll, which occured during the heat of the cartoon publication in Denmark. As the sun lost its smile, I went back, smiling of the sight of a Dutch lady feeding the cows, behind her was a big wind mill.
Comprehension arrived as the night came by, as the only main attraction in Amsterdam is the Red Light District. Believe me, apart from Centraal Station (1882-1889), Amstel, Canal Houses, Prins Hendrikkade, Dam Square, National Monument, and Koninklijk Palais (Royal Palace 1648-1665). I just knew that ABN-AMRO is the Dutch Bank, which sponsored Ajax FC. In addition, Holland is just about the size of half of the Peninsular of Malaysia and it takes about 4 hours from the end of the south towards the north. That night, the tram rattled away from Sacharovlaan near Pak Uda's place towards Oranjebaan, the curtain raiser of my night walk with my cousin. Most of the passengers smelled green, all the way.
Fear rose everytime I was about to cross the road. There are ways for bicycles, trams, buses, cars, and motorcycles worsened by my failure to adopt the left hand drive policy in this country; they complicated my sense of direction ;p One interesting fact, every Dutch owns a bicycle (as the land is flat, cycling from one place to the other is such a pleasure), and every Dutch experiences the loss of it from bicycle thieves ;) There is a huge space for bicycles at the Centraal, it is very huge till I wonder how on earth one will know which one is his?
Red light district self-touring commenced beyond the red-glowed small pillars. Window shopping made me laughed. Live show made me laughed even more. Smokey bar made me laughed the worst in this capital of hedonism. Hedonism, to the extent the illegals became legal is the sole attraction of the city. Tour it for my general knowledge, for every country has its own differing policies and legislations. It rang my bell of curiosity on why the Dutch students do not go oversea for tertiary education and it was understood by the fact that the education is free in this country. From the baby was born, everything would be taken care of by the government including if one's inability to buy a buggy due to financial constraint the government would fund it, and the human-norm teaches us the words 'thankful' and 'appreciate', and the same goes to the Dutch people. The black aspect glided through, as once a Dutch turns 21 he shall live on his own away from his parents for self-independent, in my opinion it affects one's grey relationship with his family. Worse, old citizens shall stay on their own too in places provided by the government with the reason not to burden their children, which I arrived to the same conclusion as before. Family is the most important part in our life, I strongly believe.
Sunday 22 October 2006 ~
Two trips. One was cherishing the 400th celebration of Rembrandt, the Dutch artists at Rijksmuseum and the second was the trip to Anne Frank House at Prinsengracht. The former, as it was called The Masterpieces, witnessed the fact that never have the Netherlands been so wealthy and powerful in the 17th century, the Golden Age. In the Eighty Years' War (1568-1648) the Dutch expelled their Spanish rulers and established an independent state. It was not long before the Republic of the Seven United Provinces became one of Europe's leading nations. The country grew rich on trade and shipping, merchants amassed fortunes and art and culture flourished. The museum presents the beautiful dolls' houses, a wealth of silverware, the best delftware, the spectacular civic company pieces, and of course the public's favourites like the famous paintings by Jan Steen, Frans Hals, Vermeer and Rembrandt. Over 400 masterpieces are on show. In a nutshell, they give an impressive picture of the political, economic, and artistic miracle of the Dutch Golden Age.
I relished the study of literature during my secondary school at Prinsengracht, where Anne Frank wrote her famous diary in the secret annexe of the house. The Jewish families Frank, Van Pels, and Mr. Pfeffer hid in the secret annexe from July 1942 until August 1944. But there were many more Jewish Amsterdam residents who managed to find a place to hide. Some 25,000 Jews lived in hiding across the Netherlands during the war. One-third of them were arrested anyway - ofen after being betrayed - and then murdered. Near Prinsengracht there is Gay Monument at Keizersgracht. It commemorates the persecution of homosexuals across the centuries. The monument is made up of three pink triangles. The pink triangle was the distinguishing mark homosexual prisoners had to wear on their clothes in the concentration camps in Nazi Germany. My Sunday night was a pleasure in having a waffle with Belgian chocolate at Australian Homemade in the city centre, flown away by the song Mr. Postman by The Carpenters.
Monday 23 October 2006 ~
Eid.
Lemang.
Nasi impit.
Rendang ayam.
Rendang daging.
Serunding.
Pak Uda and family.
Abang Ar, my cousin who paid a visit as a break from his Euro Trip at the moment from Berlin.
Nenek.
The voice of Mak and Abah, the well being of Adik and Nurul.
They all explained the day. Enough said. Dot.
I hope I will be able to confide everything to you, as I have never been able to confide in anyone , and I hope you will be a great source of comfort and support - Anne Frank, 12 June 1942
Thursday, October 19, 2006
Hilario's Hand
The night was shining blue, once again.
Chelsea 1. Barcelona 0.
Twas an entertaining game.
The ball rolled perfectly in harmony, across the champions galaxy.
Kudos to the third goalkeeper, and the team as a whole.
Mourinho's positive arrogance illustrates the magic of a Portuguese's mind game to the British region ;p
Chelsea 1. Barcelona 0.
Twas an entertaining game.
The ball rolled perfectly in harmony, across the champions galaxy.
Kudos to the third goalkeeper, and the team as a whole.
Mourinho's positive arrogance illustrates the magic of a Portuguese's mind game to the British region ;p
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
Faraway Aidilfitri
Lamunanku terhenti,
Anak mataku meliar-liar mencari,
Secahaya mentari,
Yang kemaluannya,
Diselubungi dek awan,
Daun-daun berguguran,
Angin sejuk,
Yang menerjah tulangku,
Aku mencari,
Aku gagal,
Aku mencari,
Aku gagal,
Lalu aku mengimaji,
Panorama halaman tanahairku,
Mataku ditutup,
Anjakan minda ke suatu tanah,
Aku tersenyum,
Hatiku menangis,
Aku tersenyum,
Hatiku menangis gembira,
Terhenti lamunan,
Lintasan kelibat,
Ayahanda dan bonda,
Keriuhan manja,
Adik-adikku,
Sentuhan emas,
Nendaku,
Mengusap rambut hitamku,
Bak sutera,
Aku tersenyum lantarannya,
Lamunanku tersentak,
Takbir raya yang kubayangkan,
Ku singkap,
Sejarah masa riang,
Kecilku,
Malam,
Yang tiada penghujungnya,
Siang esok,
Yang tiada suramnya,
Hanyalah cahaya kegembiraan,
Diriku ini,
Membayangkan,
Walaupun jauh anakanda,
Usah diukur jangkalnya,
Usah diresah keadaannya,
Anakanda menumpang gembira,
Anakanda menangguh kesyukuran,
Cahaya tanahair yang tiada penggantinya,
Kerna anakanda percaya,
Di sebalik awan,
Ada cahaya,
Walaupun setulus benang sutera Cina ;)
Selamat Hari Raya Aidilfitri.
" The absence of my favourite lemang and rendang ayam isolates my soul when the day comes, only the favour thought from my loved ones in Malaysia brings back the runaway soul "
Lots of loves and regards,
From Nottingham to Malaysia : S H A R A Z A D
Anak mataku meliar-liar mencari,
Secahaya mentari,
Yang kemaluannya,
Diselubungi dek awan,
Daun-daun berguguran,
Angin sejuk,
Yang menerjah tulangku,
Aku mencari,
Aku gagal,
Aku mencari,
Aku gagal,
Lalu aku mengimaji,
Panorama halaman tanahairku,
Mataku ditutup,
Anjakan minda ke suatu tanah,
Aku tersenyum,
Hatiku menangis,
Aku tersenyum,
Hatiku menangis gembira,
Terhenti lamunan,
Lintasan kelibat,
Ayahanda dan bonda,
Keriuhan manja,
Adik-adikku,
Sentuhan emas,
Nendaku,
Mengusap rambut hitamku,
Bak sutera,
Aku tersenyum lantarannya,
Lamunanku tersentak,
Takbir raya yang kubayangkan,
Ku singkap,
Sejarah masa riang,
Kecilku,
Malam,
Yang tiada penghujungnya,
Siang esok,
Yang tiada suramnya,
Hanyalah cahaya kegembiraan,
Diriku ini,
Membayangkan,
Walaupun jauh anakanda,
Usah diukur jangkalnya,
Usah diresah keadaannya,
Anakanda menumpang gembira,
Anakanda menangguh kesyukuran,
Cahaya tanahair yang tiada penggantinya,
Kerna anakanda percaya,
Di sebalik awan,
Ada cahaya,
Walaupun setulus benang sutera Cina ;)
Selamat Hari Raya Aidilfitri.
" The absence of my favourite lemang and rendang ayam isolates my soul when the day comes, only the favour thought from my loved ones in Malaysia brings back the runaway soul "
Lots of loves and regards,
From Nottingham to Malaysia : S H A R A Z A D
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
From Vikings to Victorians
"On a cold spring morning in northwest England, on ground first contested more than a thousand years ago, a group of Viking warriors girded once again for battle.
They were oddly short, pink-cheeked Vikings, clad in sneakers, plastic breastplates and fleece jackets, and the broadswords they brandished toward the towers of York Minster were actually green Styrofoam noodles. Urged on by the battle cries of bloodthirsty parents, they were celebrating the first morning of the city's annual Viking Festival with a salute to their 9th-century ancestors' style of mayhem and pillage
Sheltered by Roman walls and crowned by the city's famous cathedral, York's handsome downtown is the tourist and shopping mecca. Topshop, a snazzy clothing chain, flaunts 21st-century fashions alongside Roman baths and museums. The medieval Shambles, a merchant lane mentioned in William the Conqueror's 1086 census, the Domesday Book, is still open for business. On this street, "family business" means living above the shop for 700 years. Honey-colored limestone squares festooned with red and white flowers (Wars of the Roses references are big here) offer a variety of scenes: young buskers in St. Helen's Square, a greengrocer in Kings Square, and in St. Sampson's Square, an introduction to the Viking past.
Vikings invaded from across the North Sea in 866 and stayed 200 years. As the conquerors married the conquered, the city became one of the largest in Europe (its current population is 181,000). Borrowing the Romans' city walls and plumbing, the Vikings built a wooden town along the river port. In 1976, while building a downtown shopping center, bulldozers unearthed the whole down-and-dirty town, then called Jorvik, buried below"
As my feet stepped into the Bootham Bar ( ' Barrier' ), which overlooks the north of the York city, I felt like I have been transported to the era 866 all over again. It is one of the entrance of the city walls originally made of wood, built by the Normans as a safeguard from attack. I walked along the city walls with the sight of the ancient York Minster till I arrived to the Monk Bar.
I entered the green garden, and my patience had taken its toll as I straightaway went on discovering the interior of York Minster. The building has sixteen main sections llike The Rose Window, The High Altar, Great East Window, Dragon's Head, The Roof Bosses and Shields, and others with treasury and crypt underneath it. Basically,many aspects of the Christian faith are depicted in the Minster but their symbolism can be hard to understand, which the Christians believe they were created to celebrate the glory of God. It is the largetst medieval gothic cathedral in northern Europe and took over 250 years to build. The first Minster is believed to have been built to mark the occasion of King Edwin, who was an Anglo-Saxon King of Northumbria from 612 to 632, turning to Christianity following his marriage to a Christian princess from Kent. I grabbed the opportunity to climb up the top of Minster, exhausted but satisfied from the view over it seeing York and a certificate that certified my effort in climbing up the 275 steps of the Central Tower of York Minster.
After deep observation of the Minster, I walked along Museum Street till I arrived at Lendal Bridge to take a tour by boat along the River Oouse. The cruise took 40 minutes to reach South Esplanade and I passed by York Dungeon, had a quick chat with a 'gatekeeper' who was trying to scare off visitors with his white, pale make up and evil teeth.
A visit to Clifford's Tower traced back to the history of 1068, when William the Conqueror built the tower of wood but this was burnt down in 1190 when the cities Jewish population took refuge from persecution inside. Later in the 13th century, Henry III rebuilt it, and used the tower as the central keep of the castle. It is known as 'Clifford's Tower' because in 1322, Edward II had the rebel Lord Robert Clifford hanged in chains from the walls.
The sun set in York witnessed my sayonara to the town of ancient Roman, Norman, Anglo-Saxon, and Medieval English. Wacker's Fish & Chips was my meal for breaking my fast during the journey back. And till now, I am perplexed and trying to meet the end of these lines :
"Now is the winter of our discontent
Made glorious summer by this sun of York;
And all the clouds that lour'd upon our house
In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.
Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths;
Our bruised arms hung up for monuments;
Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings,
Our dreadful marches to delightful measures.
Grim-visaged war hath smooth'd his wrinkled front;
And now, instead of mounting barded steeds
To fright the souls of fearful adversaries,
He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber
To the lascivious pleasing of a lute.
But I, that am not shaped for sportive tricks,
Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass;
I, that am rudely stamp'd, and want love's majesty
To strut before a wanton ambling nymph;
I, that am curtail'd of this fair proportion,
Cheated of feature by dissembling nature,
Deformed, unfinish'd, sent before my time
Into this breathing world, scarce half made up,
And that so lamely and unfashionable
That dogs bark at me as I halt by them;
Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace,
Have no delight to pass away the time,
Unless to spy my shadow in the sun
And descant on mine own deformity:
And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover,
To entertain these fair well-spoken days,
I am determined to prove a villain
And hate the idle pleasures of these days.
Plots have I laid, inductions dangerous,
By drunken prophecies, libels and dreams,
To set my brother Clarence and the king
In deadly hate the one against the other:
And if King Edward be as true and just
As I am subtle, false and treacherous,
This day should Clarence closely be mew'd up, A
About a prophecy, which says that 'G'
Of Edward's heirs the murderer shall be.
Dive, thoughts, down to my soul: here
Clarence comes"
They were oddly short, pink-cheeked Vikings, clad in sneakers, plastic breastplates and fleece jackets, and the broadswords they brandished toward the towers of York Minster were actually green Styrofoam noodles. Urged on by the battle cries of bloodthirsty parents, they were celebrating the first morning of the city's annual Viking Festival with a salute to their 9th-century ancestors' style of mayhem and pillage
Sheltered by Roman walls and crowned by the city's famous cathedral, York's handsome downtown is the tourist and shopping mecca. Topshop, a snazzy clothing chain, flaunts 21st-century fashions alongside Roman baths and museums. The medieval Shambles, a merchant lane mentioned in William the Conqueror's 1086 census, the Domesday Book, is still open for business. On this street, "family business" means living above the shop for 700 years. Honey-colored limestone squares festooned with red and white flowers (Wars of the Roses references are big here) offer a variety of scenes: young buskers in St. Helen's Square, a greengrocer in Kings Square, and in St. Sampson's Square, an introduction to the Viking past.
Vikings invaded from across the North Sea in 866 and stayed 200 years. As the conquerors married the conquered, the city became one of the largest in Europe (its current population is 181,000). Borrowing the Romans' city walls and plumbing, the Vikings built a wooden town along the river port. In 1976, while building a downtown shopping center, bulldozers unearthed the whole down-and-dirty town, then called Jorvik, buried below"
As my feet stepped into the Bootham Bar ( ' Barrier' ), which overlooks the north of the York city, I felt like I have been transported to the era 866 all over again. It is one of the entrance of the city walls originally made of wood, built by the Normans as a safeguard from attack. I walked along the city walls with the sight of the ancient York Minster till I arrived to the Monk Bar.
I entered the green garden, and my patience had taken its toll as I straightaway went on discovering the interior of York Minster. The building has sixteen main sections llike The Rose Window, The High Altar, Great East Window, Dragon's Head, The Roof Bosses and Shields, and others with treasury and crypt underneath it. Basically,many aspects of the Christian faith are depicted in the Minster but their symbolism can be hard to understand, which the Christians believe they were created to celebrate the glory of God. It is the largetst medieval gothic cathedral in northern Europe and took over 250 years to build. The first Minster is believed to have been built to mark the occasion of King Edwin, who was an Anglo-Saxon King of Northumbria from 612 to 632, turning to Christianity following his marriage to a Christian princess from Kent. I grabbed the opportunity to climb up the top of Minster, exhausted but satisfied from the view over it seeing York and a certificate that certified my effort in climbing up the 275 steps of the Central Tower of York Minster.
After deep observation of the Minster, I walked along Museum Street till I arrived at Lendal Bridge to take a tour by boat along the River Oouse. The cruise took 40 minutes to reach South Esplanade and I passed by York Dungeon, had a quick chat with a 'gatekeeper' who was trying to scare off visitors with his white, pale make up and evil teeth.
A visit to Clifford's Tower traced back to the history of 1068, when William the Conqueror built the tower of wood but this was burnt down in 1190 when the cities Jewish population took refuge from persecution inside. Later in the 13th century, Henry III rebuilt it, and used the tower as the central keep of the castle. It is known as 'Clifford's Tower' because in 1322, Edward II had the rebel Lord Robert Clifford hanged in chains from the walls.
The sun set in York witnessed my sayonara to the town of ancient Roman, Norman, Anglo-Saxon, and Medieval English. Wacker's Fish & Chips was my meal for breaking my fast during the journey back. And till now, I am perplexed and trying to meet the end of these lines :
"Now is the winter of our discontent
Made glorious summer by this sun of York;
And all the clouds that lour'd upon our house
In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.
Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths;
Our bruised arms hung up for monuments;
Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings,
Our dreadful marches to delightful measures.
Grim-visaged war hath smooth'd his wrinkled front;
And now, instead of mounting barded steeds
To fright the souls of fearful adversaries,
He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber
To the lascivious pleasing of a lute.
But I, that am not shaped for sportive tricks,
Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass;
I, that am rudely stamp'd, and want love's majesty
To strut before a wanton ambling nymph;
I, that am curtail'd of this fair proportion,
Cheated of feature by dissembling nature,
Deformed, unfinish'd, sent before my time
Into this breathing world, scarce half made up,
And that so lamely and unfashionable
That dogs bark at me as I halt by them;
Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace,
Have no delight to pass away the time,
Unless to spy my shadow in the sun
And descant on mine own deformity:
And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover,
To entertain these fair well-spoken days,
I am determined to prove a villain
And hate the idle pleasures of these days.
Plots have I laid, inductions dangerous,
By drunken prophecies, libels and dreams,
To set my brother Clarence and the king
In deadly hate the one against the other:
And if King Edward be as true and just
As I am subtle, false and treacherous,
This day should Clarence closely be mew'd up, A
About a prophecy, which says that 'G'
Of Edward's heirs the murderer shall be.
Dive, thoughts, down to my soul: here
Clarence comes"
Monday, October 16, 2006
Nasi Lemak
Had my first nasi lemak for 'buka puasa' in the region of Nottingham.
Twas a warm weekend hospitality, I felt like home at once again.
Thank you.
Merci beacoup.
Gracias to the wonderful people of 25, Beeston Road ;)
I owe you guys one, and more.
Twas a warm weekend hospitality, I felt like home at once again.
Thank you.
Merci beacoup.
Gracias to the wonderful people of 25, Beeston Road ;)
I owe you guys one, and more.
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
Forget Summer, Embrace October
25 Reasons To Love Autumn (Source: http://lifestyle.uk.msn.com/features/article.aspx?cp-documentid=1031152)
I was walking by the Lakeside when the wind blew, the falling leaves swirled in tandem with the songs sang by the swans -
Summer was nice this year, wasn’t it? A blazing July was followed by a slightly soggy August, but the whole thing was topped off nicely with a warm and sunny September. Lovely. Now forget it. It’s about to get cold and dark and depressing again, so you’d better get used to the idea. At least, that’s what many of us feel at this time of year, as we dig out the woolly jumpers and look forward to endless weeks of suet puddings and drizzle. But it doesn’t have to be like that. Yes, the days will get shorter, colder, and rainier. But if you accept it, embrace it even, you might just realise that there are still plenty of reasons to love the autumn. Here are 25, just for starters.
1. Hello darkness, my old friend. Simon and Garfunkel weren’t actually singing about the clocks going back, but they might have been. For one glorious Sunday you get an extra hour in bed, and for the next six months you don’t have to feel guilty about slipping into fluffy slippers, eating great stodgy puddings made primarily of lard (it keeps you warm), and spending long, dark evenings in front of the DVD. Autumn is a time to get cosy, and there’s nothing depressing about that.
2. Kicking leaves. Kicking though mountains of crumply fallen leaves is just fab, in a carefree, childish, who-gives-a-damn kind of way.
3. Proper pubs. In summer, the local boozer is dark, dank and depressing. Come October, the very same boozer is warm, snug and welcoming. Magic. Cheers!
4. Promotion. You’re not guaranteed a promotion in October, but after the lethargy of summer, your productivity will skyrocket. Make the most of it and you could be quids in by Christmas.
5. The football season. It seems like it’s been going on forever already, but it doesn’t get serious until the trees are bare and those silkily skilful South American imports are attempting their fancy step-overs in four inches of mud.
6. Fresh air. After the humid, heavy, pollen-polluted air of summer, Autumn’s cool breezes can arrive like a breath of fresh air. They bring with them the scent of rain, wet grass, and fallen fruits. Well, not on the M62, but you know what we mean.
7. Conker fights. Trust us, they’re not just for kids. But baking your prize conker in the oven is cheating.
8. We’re British. As such, thousands of years of evolution have conditioned us to the changing seasons. If autumn didn’t turn up, we’d miss it, and if it was ‘scorchio’ every day, we’d hate it. You might have to trust us on this one.
9. Autumn fashion. For all the fashion industry hoo ha, summer wardrobes are restricted by the need to wear as little as possible without actually getting sacked or arrested. Autumn is when fashion really comes into its own. The unpredictable nature of the autumn climate also means that you have to dress in layers, which is a really good excuse to go out and buy lots and lots of new clothes.
10. Public Transport. The daily commute is unbearable in summer, and bearable, just, in autumn.
11. Autumn entertainments. If you think the telly has been rubbish for the last few months, you’re probably right. The TV companies keep all the good stuff for the autumn, when the potential audience is not likely to be away on holiday or taking part in some ridiculous outdoor activity, like power walking or cheese rolling. Think ‘Extras’ and ‘The Sopranos’. The same is true for theatre companies and concert venues. Autumn is a time of cultural plenty, so tuck right in. And talking of tucking in…
12. Food. Let’s face it, we’re not very good at salads, and British food is not big on sophistication. But it comes into its own on those long dark evenings in front of the fire. Steak and kidney pie, treacle pudding, roast dinners: it’s not haute cuisine, but it won’t leave you hungry, unlike the two inch square of unidentifiable mush they’d serve you in France. Probably. Oh, and put your prejudice aside: sprouts are lovely, and they’re very – very - good for you.
13. Pumpkins. Buy them for Halloween lanterns, then devour their innards in sumptuous soups and perfect pies.
14. Wasps. There aren’t any. Flies? All dead. Mosquitoes? The cold does for them, too. The demise of the creepy crawlies is reason enough to love the autumn, in our humble opinion.
15. Covering up. There’s a certain amount of pressure in summer to flaunt all those bits that really we’d rather keep under wraps. Scabby feet, saggy arms, protruding midriffs: all best left to the imagination, surely? Well, from now on they can be. The only downer is that you can no longer hide crows' feet behind a pair of enormous Jackie Onassis shades
16. Autumn festivals. They’re all about light and fire and imagination. Kids love spooky Halloween and explosive Bonfire Night. Parents love mulled wine and bonfire toffee. It’s all rounded off by Christmas, the only time of the year when it’s OK to utter the sentence, “ooh, it’s nearly 2pm, time to crack another bottle”.
17. Late holidays. Despite the wonders of a British autumn, it’s still nice to get a week or two in the sun. But there’s even more reason to take an autumn break. Jetting off while everyone slaves in the office feels just a little bit naughty, in a nice kind of way, and when you get to the beach you’ll practically have it to yourself. Which begs the question: why do we only head for the sun when it’s sunny here?
18. Staying in. When it’s cold and dark outside, there’s no reason to leave the sofa. If only you had that excuse for the rest of the year.
19. Accessories. You’ve got a new coat and boots, but your autumn shopping spree needn’t end there. Now let’s see. You’ll need a scarf, gloves, a hat, another hat, a new bag to put them all in, an umbrella…
20. Colours. The endless green of summer explodes into a fiery display of russets, scarlets, coppers and, er, yellows! Like the cherry blossom of spring, it doesn’t last long, but you wouldn’t want to miss it for the world.
21. Pampering. Feel a bit under the weather? Short days getting you down? Time to light up the scented candles, fish out the essential oils, and slip into a deep, hot, stress-busting bath. Let’s face it, it wouldn’t seem right if it was 28 degrees in the shade outside. Even better, take yourself off for a spa weekend. As your summer tan fades, replace it with a healthy glow of autumnal well-being.
22. Drinks. Pimms? Alcopops? Spring water! Thankfully, you are now at liberty to pour those weird summer drinks straight down the sink, and stock up on the good stuff: full-bodied red wine, soothing hot chocolate, and maybe a bottle of cockle warming brandy for those long, cold nights ahead.
23. Snowflakes. The first snowflake of the season will meander nonchalantly to earth sometime in November, where it will melt into the soil and not be seen again until January. It’s still a thrilling moment, especially if you’re a 10-year-old trapped inside a 30-something’s body. Like us.
24. Sickies. It’s so much easier to get away with a day in bed, we find, when “there’s a bug going round the office”, or the boss has gone down with a virus. And it’s so much more fun, we find, when you’re actually in rude good health.
25. Winter. Autumn is not winter. That’s a pretty good reason to love it
;)
I was walking by the Lakeside when the wind blew, the falling leaves swirled in tandem with the songs sang by the swans -
Summer was nice this year, wasn’t it? A blazing July was followed by a slightly soggy August, but the whole thing was topped off nicely with a warm and sunny September. Lovely. Now forget it. It’s about to get cold and dark and depressing again, so you’d better get used to the idea. At least, that’s what many of us feel at this time of year, as we dig out the woolly jumpers and look forward to endless weeks of suet puddings and drizzle. But it doesn’t have to be like that. Yes, the days will get shorter, colder, and rainier. But if you accept it, embrace it even, you might just realise that there are still plenty of reasons to love the autumn. Here are 25, just for starters.
1. Hello darkness, my old friend. Simon and Garfunkel weren’t actually singing about the clocks going back, but they might have been. For one glorious Sunday you get an extra hour in bed, and for the next six months you don’t have to feel guilty about slipping into fluffy slippers, eating great stodgy puddings made primarily of lard (it keeps you warm), and spending long, dark evenings in front of the DVD. Autumn is a time to get cosy, and there’s nothing depressing about that.
2. Kicking leaves. Kicking though mountains of crumply fallen leaves is just fab, in a carefree, childish, who-gives-a-damn kind of way.
3. Proper pubs. In summer, the local boozer is dark, dank and depressing. Come October, the very same boozer is warm, snug and welcoming. Magic. Cheers!
4. Promotion. You’re not guaranteed a promotion in October, but after the lethargy of summer, your productivity will skyrocket. Make the most of it and you could be quids in by Christmas.
5. The football season. It seems like it’s been going on forever already, but it doesn’t get serious until the trees are bare and those silkily skilful South American imports are attempting their fancy step-overs in four inches of mud.
6. Fresh air. After the humid, heavy, pollen-polluted air of summer, Autumn’s cool breezes can arrive like a breath of fresh air. They bring with them the scent of rain, wet grass, and fallen fruits. Well, not on the M62, but you know what we mean.
7. Conker fights. Trust us, they’re not just for kids. But baking your prize conker in the oven is cheating.
8. We’re British. As such, thousands of years of evolution have conditioned us to the changing seasons. If autumn didn’t turn up, we’d miss it, and if it was ‘scorchio’ every day, we’d hate it. You might have to trust us on this one.
9. Autumn fashion. For all the fashion industry hoo ha, summer wardrobes are restricted by the need to wear as little as possible without actually getting sacked or arrested. Autumn is when fashion really comes into its own. The unpredictable nature of the autumn climate also means that you have to dress in layers, which is a really good excuse to go out and buy lots and lots of new clothes.
10. Public Transport. The daily commute is unbearable in summer, and bearable, just, in autumn.
11. Autumn entertainments. If you think the telly has been rubbish for the last few months, you’re probably right. The TV companies keep all the good stuff for the autumn, when the potential audience is not likely to be away on holiday or taking part in some ridiculous outdoor activity, like power walking or cheese rolling. Think ‘Extras’ and ‘The Sopranos’. The same is true for theatre companies and concert venues. Autumn is a time of cultural plenty, so tuck right in. And talking of tucking in…
12. Food. Let’s face it, we’re not very good at salads, and British food is not big on sophistication. But it comes into its own on those long dark evenings in front of the fire. Steak and kidney pie, treacle pudding, roast dinners: it’s not haute cuisine, but it won’t leave you hungry, unlike the two inch square of unidentifiable mush they’d serve you in France. Probably. Oh, and put your prejudice aside: sprouts are lovely, and they’re very – very - good for you.
13. Pumpkins. Buy them for Halloween lanterns, then devour their innards in sumptuous soups and perfect pies.
14. Wasps. There aren’t any. Flies? All dead. Mosquitoes? The cold does for them, too. The demise of the creepy crawlies is reason enough to love the autumn, in our humble opinion.
15. Covering up. There’s a certain amount of pressure in summer to flaunt all those bits that really we’d rather keep under wraps. Scabby feet, saggy arms, protruding midriffs: all best left to the imagination, surely? Well, from now on they can be. The only downer is that you can no longer hide crows' feet behind a pair of enormous Jackie Onassis shades
16. Autumn festivals. They’re all about light and fire and imagination. Kids love spooky Halloween and explosive Bonfire Night. Parents love mulled wine and bonfire toffee. It’s all rounded off by Christmas, the only time of the year when it’s OK to utter the sentence, “ooh, it’s nearly 2pm, time to crack another bottle”.
17. Late holidays. Despite the wonders of a British autumn, it’s still nice to get a week or two in the sun. But there’s even more reason to take an autumn break. Jetting off while everyone slaves in the office feels just a little bit naughty, in a nice kind of way, and when you get to the beach you’ll practically have it to yourself. Which begs the question: why do we only head for the sun when it’s sunny here?
18. Staying in. When it’s cold and dark outside, there’s no reason to leave the sofa. If only you had that excuse for the rest of the year.
19. Accessories. You’ve got a new coat and boots, but your autumn shopping spree needn’t end there. Now let’s see. You’ll need a scarf, gloves, a hat, another hat, a new bag to put them all in, an umbrella…
20. Colours. The endless green of summer explodes into a fiery display of russets, scarlets, coppers and, er, yellows! Like the cherry blossom of spring, it doesn’t last long, but you wouldn’t want to miss it for the world.
21. Pampering. Feel a bit under the weather? Short days getting you down? Time to light up the scented candles, fish out the essential oils, and slip into a deep, hot, stress-busting bath. Let’s face it, it wouldn’t seem right if it was 28 degrees in the shade outside. Even better, take yourself off for a spa weekend. As your summer tan fades, replace it with a healthy glow of autumnal well-being.
22. Drinks. Pimms? Alcopops? Spring water! Thankfully, you are now at liberty to pour those weird summer drinks straight down the sink, and stock up on the good stuff: full-bodied red wine, soothing hot chocolate, and maybe a bottle of cockle warming brandy for those long, cold nights ahead.
23. Snowflakes. The first snowflake of the season will meander nonchalantly to earth sometime in November, where it will melt into the soil and not be seen again until January. It’s still a thrilling moment, especially if you’re a 10-year-old trapped inside a 30-something’s body. Like us.
24. Sickies. It’s so much easier to get away with a day in bed, we find, when “there’s a bug going round the office”, or the boss has gone down with a virus. And it’s so much more fun, we find, when you’re actually in rude good health.
25. Winter. Autumn is not winter. That’s a pretty good reason to love it
;)
Yes, Doc?
As I walked pass the foot of Nottingham Castle towards Ye Olde Trip to Jerusalem Inn, the oldest inn in England dated back to 1189AD, I thought of these lines:
[Robin of Loxley and Marion saying goodbye on the tor]
Marion: "Are we going to die?"
Robin: "Everyone dies."
Marion: "That's not what I said."
Robin: "I know. It's not over yet."
[...]
Robin: "I thought you had more courage."
Marion: "Courage?!"
Robin: "To stay alive. Dying's easy."
[...]
Robin: "There are so many things I want to say to you but time's caught up and now I'll never say them. Except that I loved you from the first moment I saw you and every moment since."
[...]
Robin: "Do you want them to win?"
Marion: "I don't care about them."
Robin: "But you must. For the sake of everything we've meant to each other, you must care - because that way you'll keep alive all we believed in. And I can't die then, can I?"
I arrived here in the 18th of September and since then my days as a university student in a foreign country has begun. The falling leaves of autumn welcomed me as I stepped into this beautiful campus in the heart of England, in an area known as the East Midlands. The city is lively and vibrant, coloured by the sight of the Old Market Square, Nottingham Royal Centre, Nottingham Playhouse, Lace Market, Victoria Centre, the museum of Robin Hood, loads of entertaining spots to chill like the Hog Head and Weatherspoon, not to forget the easiness to find halal food with the abundant shops like the Kebab House.
The University of Nottingham (www.nottingham.ac.uk) basically is divided into University Park Campus and Jubilee Campus. The former is the main campus of the university and there are four main entrance which are the north, east, south, and west entrance. It has the beautiful landscape of a lake surrounded by the artistic monument of Trent and Portland building. Highfields Park by the lake is the home to a number of singing ducks over the years. The on campus halls like Rutland, Derby, Lincoln, Lenton & Wortley are on the natural green meadows called The Downs. During the welcome programme last week, I walked across The Downs during the sun set and with the pleasant wind and fog all around me, the place reminds me of the story of The Hound of Baskervilles when Sherlock Holmes is in the middle of large green area investigating the crime scene.
My classes are held in the Jubilee Campus, which takes about 5 minutes by a hopper bus from the University Park Campus. Similarly, the former shared the same ambience and beautiful scenery for the students to cherish as part of their university life. I am staying in St. Peter's Court, about 15-minute walk to Jubilee Campus and I take it as an initiative for me to have a healthy life as days go by.
In a nutshell, I am enjoying the part of my life at the moment. Meeting lots of people from Cyprus, Mauritius, Serbia, Sweden, Afghanistan, United States of America, the local people, and other Asians teach me how big the world is and how important it is for me to keep improving and learning from time to time. The ultimate ambition - to be a well rounded person.
Thank you to Tengku Zharif, Nik Azim, Rafiuddin, Saiful Adli, Norman, and Shahrul for the warm hospitality during my weekend stay in London. The unexpected meeting with Shaun Wright-Phillips at Tinseltown Bar was a memorable one and having Haagen-Dasz in Leicester Square chilled in my body ;p
I played football with the Malaysians at Lakeside this evening and the presence of the community feels like I am at home for once. However, this is a quest for a golden key for my future, and I keep on saying ' Do not measure the distance, measure the thoughts '
As temperature goes down to the average of 11 degree celcius today, I am looking forward to the Nottingham Goose Fair and Nottingham Robin Hood Pageant this weekend; to warm up my life, in the heart of Nottinghamshire.
Sharazad,
92/D St. Peter's Court,
New Road,
Nottingham,
Nottinghamshire,
NG7 3ET
0 (044) 785 264 2553
My joke - In a grocery shop in Beeston, south of University of Nottingham.
Sharazad: How much is the Snickers?
The skinny woman at the cashier counter: It's 40 pence, doc.
[Sharazad asked himself; did she just call me a DOG? !! Damn !!]
Sharazad: I don't have change. I only have 1 pound.
The skinny woman at the cashier counter: It's ok, doc.
[Uh?? It cannot be. Maybe I heard it wrongly]
The skinny woman: Thank you, doc. Cheers, doc.
Sharazad: Thank you [in a sombre mood]
Outside the grocery store.
Sharazad: Dude, that skinny lady just called me DOG!
Fahmi: Hahhahahahahha. You must be kidding me man. Maybe she called you DOLL? Hahahhaha
Sharazad: Hmm... maybe. Maybe she wanted to be friendly to me. Nah, nevermind.
We walked back, trying to find the logic behind the word DOC to illustrate the friendliness of one's to the other, only to discover during the short drama performed by the Student Union that in here when someone older says DOC to you, he is just trying to be very friendly with you ;p
[Robin of Loxley and Marion saying goodbye on the tor]
Marion: "Are we going to die?"
Robin: "Everyone dies."
Marion: "That's not what I said."
Robin: "I know. It's not over yet."
[...]
Robin: "I thought you had more courage."
Marion: "Courage?!"
Robin: "To stay alive. Dying's easy."
[...]
Robin: "There are so many things I want to say to you but time's caught up and now I'll never say them. Except that I loved you from the first moment I saw you and every moment since."
[...]
Robin: "Do you want them to win?"
Marion: "I don't care about them."
Robin: "But you must. For the sake of everything we've meant to each other, you must care - because that way you'll keep alive all we believed in. And I can't die then, can I?"
I arrived here in the 18th of September and since then my days as a university student in a foreign country has begun. The falling leaves of autumn welcomed me as I stepped into this beautiful campus in the heart of England, in an area known as the East Midlands. The city is lively and vibrant, coloured by the sight of the Old Market Square, Nottingham Royal Centre, Nottingham Playhouse, Lace Market, Victoria Centre, the museum of Robin Hood, loads of entertaining spots to chill like the Hog Head and Weatherspoon, not to forget the easiness to find halal food with the abundant shops like the Kebab House.
The University of Nottingham (www.nottingham.ac.uk) basically is divided into University Park Campus and Jubilee Campus. The former is the main campus of the university and there are four main entrance which are the north, east, south, and west entrance. It has the beautiful landscape of a lake surrounded by the artistic monument of Trent and Portland building. Highfields Park by the lake is the home to a number of singing ducks over the years. The on campus halls like Rutland, Derby, Lincoln, Lenton & Wortley are on the natural green meadows called The Downs. During the welcome programme last week, I walked across The Downs during the sun set and with the pleasant wind and fog all around me, the place reminds me of the story of The Hound of Baskervilles when Sherlock Holmes is in the middle of large green area investigating the crime scene.
My classes are held in the Jubilee Campus, which takes about 5 minutes by a hopper bus from the University Park Campus. Similarly, the former shared the same ambience and beautiful scenery for the students to cherish as part of their university life. I am staying in St. Peter's Court, about 15-minute walk to Jubilee Campus and I take it as an initiative for me to have a healthy life as days go by.
In a nutshell, I am enjoying the part of my life at the moment. Meeting lots of people from Cyprus, Mauritius, Serbia, Sweden, Afghanistan, United States of America, the local people, and other Asians teach me how big the world is and how important it is for me to keep improving and learning from time to time. The ultimate ambition - to be a well rounded person.
Thank you to Tengku Zharif, Nik Azim, Rafiuddin, Saiful Adli, Norman, and Shahrul for the warm hospitality during my weekend stay in London. The unexpected meeting with Shaun Wright-Phillips at Tinseltown Bar was a memorable one and having Haagen-Dasz in Leicester Square chilled in my body ;p
I played football with the Malaysians at Lakeside this evening and the presence of the community feels like I am at home for once. However, this is a quest for a golden key for my future, and I keep on saying ' Do not measure the distance, measure the thoughts '
As temperature goes down to the average of 11 degree celcius today, I am looking forward to the Nottingham Goose Fair and Nottingham Robin Hood Pageant this weekend; to warm up my life, in the heart of Nottinghamshire.
Sharazad,
92/D St. Peter's Court,
New Road,
Nottingham,
Nottinghamshire,
NG7 3ET
0 (044) 785 264 2553
My joke - In a grocery shop in Beeston, south of University of Nottingham.
Sharazad: How much is the Snickers?
The skinny woman at the cashier counter: It's 40 pence, doc.
[Sharazad asked himself; did she just call me a DOG? !! Damn !!]
Sharazad: I don't have change. I only have 1 pound.
The skinny woman at the cashier counter: It's ok, doc.
[Uh?? It cannot be. Maybe I heard it wrongly]
The skinny woman: Thank you, doc. Cheers, doc.
Sharazad: Thank you [in a sombre mood]
Outside the grocery store.
Sharazad: Dude, that skinny lady just called me DOG!
Fahmi: Hahhahahahahha. You must be kidding me man. Maybe she called you DOLL? Hahahhaha
Sharazad: Hmm... maybe. Maybe she wanted to be friendly to me. Nah, nevermind.
We walked back, trying to find the logic behind the word DOC to illustrate the friendliness of one's to the other, only to discover during the short drama performed by the Student Union that in here when someone older says DOC to you, he is just trying to be very friendly with you ;p
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
Sam to Dorian
My windy day in October was shone by a happiness of an email by my beloved sister in Malaysia. As I am writing on my experience living as a student in the United Kingdom, this piece is the curtain riser of the new environment. Do not mind the content because every family has its own skeleton in the closet, just mind the touch of a pen by a 14-year old girl -
My beloved Dorian,
Can you do me a favour?
Can you please stop logging on your MSN and then left it on for hours afterwards because it's driving your poor sister to death?
Anyway, I don't care if your fellow friends think it's odd for a brother to send e-mails to his sister, because they are just a bunch of green-eyed monsters.
I did something to your brother that you'll either approve or scold me a million times until I get sick. His jackass of a friend eat at our house during the daytime and I thought it would be impolite to not to serve your guest so I brought up a glass of water and a jar of peanuts for him to eat but suprise, surprise. He didn't even touch it.Your brother wasn't too pleased and gave me a lecture on my misbehaviour(don't worry, I'm still alive). You may be pleased to know our parents didn't even give out to me and their silence means they approve of my actions and so you must, too.
How's life been treating my big bro? I hope you're being squeeze the life out of you since you're getting a better weather than we do. God, the heat. And it's suppose to be the rain season.
Mum's been asking me if you have a girlfriend who you left behind in Malaysia since you sounded so sad at the telephone. I told her I don't hold the key to your private life and she should ask you herself. I told her it's the cold and hunger and not some pain at leaving some girl behind. I mean, come on, you're not a child. Maybe you did left a girl, but how am I supposed to know?
I've been busy studying and had decided the computer is evil when you told the Godfather I haven't reply to your e-mail. The Nightingale is pressuring me to study and Mr. Gray is encouraging me to play. Who am I supposed to side with? My book, obviously. 'Rosie Dunne' is a page-turner and funnier than any other books.
At least I'm reading something and not playing. It's a win-win situation. The Godfather would certainly agree with me.
Oh, before I signed off, would you please spend some quality time talking with your brother since he's been a bit down lately. Recently, Nightingale muster some courage(finally!) and told him why he haven't get his Lagenda yet. He agreed but he's still not talking to the Godfather. Hum, I wonder why?
Our Maid Marian remarked since I'm the youngest child, I should be 'daddy's girl' and not your brother. I told her I'm too matured for that.
Our Grandma have decided to dig her daughters' money(joking) and fly over to Amsterdam to spend Raya with her son. Maybe you could hop on a train or something to Amsterdam? Abang Ar is staying with her son the last time I heard.
Well, I must be boring you with unnecessary news so I must pen off now. I would really appreciate it if you don't tell Nightingale about what I wrote because it'll result in her bugging me and me trying to curb my notorious fury.
Well, see you in two years time. Back to my books. Wish me luck for my exams. No, don't do that. Pray for me. May ALLAH bless you.
And, as they never say it over there,
Cheerio.
Love,
Sam (bored-to-death sister of Mr. Gray and Mr. Logan a.k.a. Wolverine)
p.s. I'm on a two-day holiday thanks to PMR. WOOHOO!
I love you sister ;)
Saturday, September 16, 2006
As We Grow
(Left: Macha, Sharazad, Dodo, and cousin Arafah)Au revoire to all my friends from my primary school time till now.
Cherishing the past moments and looking at how beautiful the yin yang of innocence versus experience in life, wiser people we be ;)
My appreciation to all of you and how great friends they are, by being the colours in my life.
Age is creeping as years go by, but never let the memorable moments of growing up hand in hand slip by - Sharazad, 9 September 2006
Courtesy from a great photographer, a good friend among good friends of mine; Ibrahim Macha - www.ibrahimacha.multiply.com
Merci.
Friday, September 08, 2006
Now or Never
Another weddding occasion in September, the bridegroom was my university friend's brother who is now an economist working in Credit Suisse.
Another glittering night, more glitter with the sight of the honoured guest Datuk Seri Anwar Ibrahim and his wife, Datin Seri Wan Azizah.
Added with lots of familiar faces across the hall, including Nik Nazmi my super senior back in KMYS.
Thank you Harith for inviting.
* Again, Selamat Pengantin Baru *
Tomorrow is the day I have been waiting for, a get together with all my friends from secondary school time till now. I keep on saying, it is about now the time for us to meet, or never.
As Elvis Presley said, " It's now or never " ;)
Another glittering night, more glitter with the sight of the honoured guest Datuk Seri Anwar Ibrahim and his wife, Datin Seri Wan Azizah.
Added with lots of familiar faces across the hall, including Nik Nazmi my super senior back in KMYS.
Thank you Harith for inviting.
* Again, Selamat Pengantin Baru *
Tomorrow is the day I have been waiting for, a get together with all my friends from secondary school time till now. I keep on saying, it is about now the time for us to meet, or never.
As Elvis Presley said, " It's now or never " ;)
Saturday, September 02, 2006
Budget 2006/07
A 12-page Economic Report 2006/07 produced by the Ministry of Finance Malaysia, is my dearest companion at the moment.
I hope I could learn something. Yes. Yes.
Let's hope for the achievement of all the targets :)
"I have consistently supported tax relief to create a more robust economy and to stimulate long-term economic recovery" - Todd Akin
I hope I could learn something. Yes. Yes.
Let's hope for the achievement of all the targets :)
"I have consistently supported tax relief to create a more robust economy and to stimulate long-term economic recovery" - Todd Akin
Friday, September 01, 2006
A Doctor's Wish
In conjuction with our Independence Day, I would like to share this piece written by a doctor in our country, Malaysia. Open up your mind, broaden up your analytical horizon, and begins with a crystal-clear free mind :)
"A 46-year-old Dewan Bandaraya worker was admitted for progressive, generalised weakness associated with a severe inflammatory rash. Unable even to swallow saliva, nasogastric feeding was started on complete nutrition formula milk. As investigations were carried out to clinch a diagnosis, she developed severe hospital-acquired pneumonia which scarred her lungs extensively.
Due to a severe shortage of beds, the patient was discharged prematurely although she was still bedridden and unable to swallow. Her husband was told that he would have to buy the milk for nasogastric feeding on their own, estimated to cost RM60 per tin, which should last about a week.
A low-ranked clerk in the civil service, he pleaded for goodwill to prevail, that the milk be provided free as they were already unable to cope with the increasing cost of living. He was told however, that he would have to go through the social welfare, the application process of which would take some time.
In the meantime, however, they would have to go home empty handed. Bed-ridden but without a wheelchair, disfigured but not dispirited, too weak to even enter their humble, rented shophouse home, she was sent packing without her only source of nutrition.
A 39-year-old mother of six young children presents with severe pneumonia secondary to multiple sclerosis. Paralysed from the neck down, she had Grade III bed sores from prolonged immobilisation. Her chests were hardly expanding due to diaphragmatic fatigue but she otherwise mentally alert and sharp.
The doctor-in-charge started antibiotics but immediately pronounced DNR – do not resuscitate. It simply means that intubation was not to be attempted should her condition deteriorate. One reason behind this rationale was due to the severe shortage of ventilators in the hospital. The family was advised to purchase an oxygen machine as well as a special mattress to prevent further bed sores.
At the mention of the amount, the patient’s husband, a lowly roadside hawker, reacted in shock as there was no way they could ever afford to pay. Referral to social welfare was made, but due to ‘limited funds’, their appeal was rejected. One and a half months later, she lies there still in the ward - too sick to go home, and too poor to get better.
Too tired to continue fighting an incurable illness and too weak to express herself in full, she mustered her remaining strength and begged to be euthanised which, in a sense, is exactly what we are doing – because of a supposed lack of funds in an oil-rich nation.
I can’t imagine what goes through the minds of faceless Malaysians when someone declares prosperity and justice for all Malaysians every Aug 31. There are families too poor to take a bus ride from the hospital back to their kampong and politicians who throw tantrums in public because they were only offered ‘some useless cars’ from the Customs Department.
Our special schools for special children are miserably pathetic yet the ruling feudal masters feel that a RM490 million sports academy is of greater urgency. Our teachers, lecturers and healthcare workers are overworked, understaffed and underpaid but we somehow have RM600 million annually to organise the great Malaysian summer camp a.k.a National Service.
Even as the monkeys bersilat, brandish their keris and sound the battle cry annually, snatch thieves wield their daggers and rob the lives of innocent Malaysians on a daily basis. We have a group of youth parading on the streets proclaiming support for Hamas and Hezbollah, but no one to champion the plight of the Pak Ciks debilitated from stroke and cancer.
The cops arrest couples for holding hands in public and crack down on sincere, dissenting voices but ‘close one eye’ when ** warlords contemptuously ignore their traffic summonses and fan racial and religious sentiments in mainstream media.
The ** spends millions to ‘re-train’ unemployed university graduates after spending years brainwashing them with the nebulous **** agenda and thereafter expects them to perform in the real world. We have laws criminalising hardworking family physicians while un-taxable illegal immigrants live off the fat of the land without fear of being apprehended and deported.
Our local citizens wait for months for an ultrasound scan while Project M citizens have no qualms paying for a RM20,000 angiogram.
The stupidity and ignorance of the current **** leadership is best exemplified none other by the Putera **** chief’s vain attempt to ‘re-brand’ the daredevil Mat Rempits, even as hundreds of them are bedridden in our hospitals with vertebral fractures and amputated limbs, and countless more putrefying quietly in the graves of the soil of Malaysia
The dearth of sound leadership has never been more conspicuous as now. ‘Di mana tiada helang, kata belalang, akulah helang’.
As Malaysians of all colours and creed daily face the threat of choking haze, violent crime, drug abuse, HIV, diabetes and a disproportionate rise in living costs, it seems that the only issue that **** is concerned with is a non-existent Sino threat to its obsession with Ketuanan Melayu.
As I sit here wishing to do and earn more as a government doctor, something tells me that a young man my age is wishing to have more than a RM9.1 million share and to be more than the ***** *******’s son-in-law.
Somewhere else, however, I am reminded of a lady yearning to sweep the filthy streets of Kuala Lumpur like she used to and another who will be eternally grateful just to breathe on her own, even if the air is hazy"
Cheers. Saya cinta negara saya.
"A 46-year-old Dewan Bandaraya worker was admitted for progressive, generalised weakness associated with a severe inflammatory rash. Unable even to swallow saliva, nasogastric feeding was started on complete nutrition formula milk. As investigations were carried out to clinch a diagnosis, she developed severe hospital-acquired pneumonia which scarred her lungs extensively.
Due to a severe shortage of beds, the patient was discharged prematurely although she was still bedridden and unable to swallow. Her husband was told that he would have to buy the milk for nasogastric feeding on their own, estimated to cost RM60 per tin, which should last about a week.
A low-ranked clerk in the civil service, he pleaded for goodwill to prevail, that the milk be provided free as they were already unable to cope with the increasing cost of living. He was told however, that he would have to go through the social welfare, the application process of which would take some time.
In the meantime, however, they would have to go home empty handed. Bed-ridden but without a wheelchair, disfigured but not dispirited, too weak to even enter their humble, rented shophouse home, she was sent packing without her only source of nutrition.
A 39-year-old mother of six young children presents with severe pneumonia secondary to multiple sclerosis. Paralysed from the neck down, she had Grade III bed sores from prolonged immobilisation. Her chests were hardly expanding due to diaphragmatic fatigue but she otherwise mentally alert and sharp.
The doctor-in-charge started antibiotics but immediately pronounced DNR – do not resuscitate. It simply means that intubation was not to be attempted should her condition deteriorate. One reason behind this rationale was due to the severe shortage of ventilators in the hospital. The family was advised to purchase an oxygen machine as well as a special mattress to prevent further bed sores.
At the mention of the amount, the patient’s husband, a lowly roadside hawker, reacted in shock as there was no way they could ever afford to pay. Referral to social welfare was made, but due to ‘limited funds’, their appeal was rejected. One and a half months later, she lies there still in the ward - too sick to go home, and too poor to get better.
Too tired to continue fighting an incurable illness and too weak to express herself in full, she mustered her remaining strength and begged to be euthanised which, in a sense, is exactly what we are doing – because of a supposed lack of funds in an oil-rich nation.
I can’t imagine what goes through the minds of faceless Malaysians when someone declares prosperity and justice for all Malaysians every Aug 31. There are families too poor to take a bus ride from the hospital back to their kampong and politicians who throw tantrums in public because they were only offered ‘some useless cars’ from the Customs Department.
Our special schools for special children are miserably pathetic yet the ruling feudal masters feel that a RM490 million sports academy is of greater urgency. Our teachers, lecturers and healthcare workers are overworked, understaffed and underpaid but we somehow have RM600 million annually to organise the great Malaysian summer camp a.k.a National Service.
Even as the monkeys bersilat, brandish their keris and sound the battle cry annually, snatch thieves wield their daggers and rob the lives of innocent Malaysians on a daily basis. We have a group of youth parading on the streets proclaiming support for Hamas and Hezbollah, but no one to champion the plight of the Pak Ciks debilitated from stroke and cancer.
The cops arrest couples for holding hands in public and crack down on sincere, dissenting voices but ‘close one eye’ when ** warlords contemptuously ignore their traffic summonses and fan racial and religious sentiments in mainstream media.
The ** spends millions to ‘re-train’ unemployed university graduates after spending years brainwashing them with the nebulous **** agenda and thereafter expects them to perform in the real world. We have laws criminalising hardworking family physicians while un-taxable illegal immigrants live off the fat of the land without fear of being apprehended and deported.
Our local citizens wait for months for an ultrasound scan while Project M citizens have no qualms paying for a RM20,000 angiogram.
The stupidity and ignorance of the current **** leadership is best exemplified none other by the Putera **** chief’s vain attempt to ‘re-brand’ the daredevil Mat Rempits, even as hundreds of them are bedridden in our hospitals with vertebral fractures and amputated limbs, and countless more putrefying quietly in the graves of the soil of Malaysia
The dearth of sound leadership has never been more conspicuous as now. ‘Di mana tiada helang, kata belalang, akulah helang’.
As Malaysians of all colours and creed daily face the threat of choking haze, violent crime, drug abuse, HIV, diabetes and a disproportionate rise in living costs, it seems that the only issue that **** is concerned with is a non-existent Sino threat to its obsession with Ketuanan Melayu.
As I sit here wishing to do and earn more as a government doctor, something tells me that a young man my age is wishing to have more than a RM9.1 million share and to be more than the ***** *******’s son-in-law.
Somewhere else, however, I am reminded of a lady yearning to sweep the filthy streets of Kuala Lumpur like she used to and another who will be eternally grateful just to breathe on her own, even if the air is hazy"
Cheers. Saya cinta negara saya.
Thursday, August 31, 2006
Sex Joke
I laughed when I read these portions from the book Almost French by Sarah Turnbull.
Would like to share with the readers - hehe
Excerpt: After we've finished eating, Frederic pats his coat pocket, his eyes skimming the room, searching for something. This is a familiar routine. I now know that when Frederic told me in Bucharest he was 'maniac' he meant he was obsessively tidy. Keeping everything in perfect order - shirts stacked in a colour-coded pile, the bed neatly made each morning- is his way of restraining his natural disorderliness. But it's as though he's still surprised by his tidy habits. Frederic can never recall the thoughtful places where he puts things away.
I think I know what he's looking for - one of his pipes. "Tu veus une pipe?" I ask.
It takes less than a split second to realise that my question is not quite right. Not right at all, in fact, judging by the four male faces which freeze in surprise before cracking into hooting, helpless laughter. Without even meaning to, I have been fabulously funny. This is my first joke in French - the first time since my arrival that I've managed to make an entire table laugh - and it seems a bit unfair that I don't get it.
"Where can I find an Australian girlfriend?" wheezes one guest, appreciatively.
The French language is full of double entendre. Although toilet humour is considered poor taste in France, sex-related witticisms are acceptable in virtually any social setting. Sustaining linguistic volleys of naughty innuendo is a national sport. Sometimes these word games are subtle and sophisticated. But often the banter is ribald and silly - a bit like Frederic's joke about peeing off the Pont des Arts. 'Pipe' is the sort of word which ping-pongs across dinner tables. Although it shares the innocent English meaning, in French it also has a more risque definition. Had I said ta pipe - your pipe - it might not have been so funny. But as it is, I have just offered Frederic a blow job :)
Would like to share with the readers - hehe
Excerpt: After we've finished eating, Frederic pats his coat pocket, his eyes skimming the room, searching for something. This is a familiar routine. I now know that when Frederic told me in Bucharest he was 'maniac' he meant he was obsessively tidy. Keeping everything in perfect order - shirts stacked in a colour-coded pile, the bed neatly made each morning- is his way of restraining his natural disorderliness. But it's as though he's still surprised by his tidy habits. Frederic can never recall the thoughtful places where he puts things away.
I think I know what he's looking for - one of his pipes. "Tu veus une pipe?" I ask.
It takes less than a split second to realise that my question is not quite right. Not right at all, in fact, judging by the four male faces which freeze in surprise before cracking into hooting, helpless laughter. Without even meaning to, I have been fabulously funny. This is my first joke in French - the first time since my arrival that I've managed to make an entire table laugh - and it seems a bit unfair that I don't get it.
"Where can I find an Australian girlfriend?" wheezes one guest, appreciatively.
The French language is full of double entendre. Although toilet humour is considered poor taste in France, sex-related witticisms are acceptable in virtually any social setting. Sustaining linguistic volleys of naughty innuendo is a national sport. Sometimes these word games are subtle and sophisticated. But often the banter is ribald and silly - a bit like Frederic's joke about peeing off the Pont des Arts. 'Pipe' is the sort of word which ping-pongs across dinner tables. Although it shares the innocent English meaning, in French it also has a more risque definition. Had I said ta pipe - your pipe - it might not have been so funny. But as it is, I have just offered Frederic a blow job :)
Merdeka
(Coretanku ditemani lagu orkestra Di Mana Kan Ku Cari Ganti)
Di sebalik citrawarna kehujanan bunga-bunga api yg aku saksikan dari tempat kumenghirup aroma kopi menjelang jam 12 malam semalam, hati kecilku bertanya - apakah erti kemerdekaan yang sebenarnya? Aku melihat anak-anak bangsa dari pelbagai kaum dari pelbagai warna kulit menghiasi malam di sekitar KLCC dengan satu warna bendera tanahairku, Malaysia. Turut menyerikan suasana kehadiran pelancong-pelancong asing yang turut sama meraikan semangat kebangsaan negara tercintaku.
Aku terpegun dengan hujan-hujan warna berlatarkan langit malam yang terang, tetapi adakah aku pegun dengan kemerdekaan ini? Walaupun umur aku hanyalah separa jagung ulangtahun, aku masih tertanya-tanya, apakah kemerdekaan yang sebenarnya? Inkuiriku bertanya kepada ayahandaku beberapa hari yang lalu, siapakah yang memperjuangkan kemerdekaan kita sebenar-benarnya? Guru-guru dan penulis-penulislah yang erti penat dan putus asa tidak wujud dalam diari hidup mereka, yang terus menyuarakan perjuangan, yang terus mendaulatkan jati diri dan hak-hak bangsa Melayu, yang tidak tunduk di bawah telunjuk-telunjuk kuasa kolonilah - pejuang-pejuang sebenar yang patut tercatit di dalam buku sejarah kita. Bukannnya pemimpin yang menjadi boneka melaungkan laungan kosong, dan bukanlah pemimpin yang tunduk di bawah telunjuk jari-jemari koloni yang bermandi air kotor dengan pegangan kolot 'white men are always right'.
Kemerdekaan ini dipotraitkan dengan bangunan-bangunan yang mencakar langit dek indah dihiasi dengan lampu-lampu malam, infrastruktur yang tersergam megah bagaikan istana kayangan Babylon, ya! Aku bangga dengan semua pencapaian ini. Lagi tinggi banggaku ini jikalau kesemua pencakar-pencakar langit ini mempotraitkan keharmonian rakyat yang miskin dan kesedaran rakyat yang kaya, ketulusan terhadap cara yang sistematik dan kebencian kepada rasuah, dan pencakaran mentaliti kelas pertama yang dipamerkan oleh rakyat-rakyat Malaysia. Aku impikan pencakaran bangunan minda yang tidak buang sampah merata-rata, sifat cintai tandas-tandas awam, senyuman terhadap pelanggan, lafaz terima kasih, nilai murni membuka pintu untuk orang lain, dan keutamaan terhadap pejalan-pejalan kaki di laluan negara kita.
Alangkah bersyukurnya aku jikalau siswa-siswi dalam dan luar negara diberikan landasan demokrasi untuk menyuarakan pendapat, kerana inilah generasi yang menjadi 'beacon of flame' untuk negara pada masa akan datang. Yang akan menentukan hala tuju dan perjalanan polisi-polisi untuk mencapai taraf negara maju, seperti yang dilaungkan oleh para pemimpin dari dulu hingga sekarang, yang tidak lekang dek hujan dan panas, yang aku harapkan bukanlah hanya tin kosong yang tiada gunanya. Janganlah dikunci mulut ini kerana gentarkan manusia dan sayangkan kuasa, janganlah dibutakan hati kami, kerana kami pelajar bangsa berjanji, di mana bumi dipijak, di situ langit darah bangsa kami dijunjung.
Merdekakah kita apabila hak-hak keistimewaan Islam dan Melayu yang dimaktubkan di dalam perjanjian kemerdekaan dipersoalkan dan dicabul oleh badan-badan yang buta lagi kabur yang berlagak bagaikan helang di langit tinggi padahal hanyalah seekor burung gagak yang lapar berterbangan mencari mangsa?
Merdekakah kita sebenarnya? Natijahnya, tidak sempurna merdeka kita jikalau apa yang aku coretkan di atas adalah benar dan hanya disambut dengan mata-mata pesimis yang hanya merugikan negara kita sendiri. Salahkah aku menyuarakannya?
Marilah kita mengambil iktibar daripada penindasan kuasa pada tahun 1988, yang menyebabkan Tun Salleh Abbas menjadi kabur dan hilang di tengah lautan perhakiman negara apabila beliau dilucutkan jawatan kerana memperjuangkan hak yang benar, sehingga beliau mengatakan "I was so disillusioned by the judiciary system till I told my children and grandchildren not to learn law".
Sama sama kita menganjakkan paradigma, membuka mata dan fikiran seluas lautan Pasifik, mengimpikan Malaysia mengembalikan kegemilangan Andalusia yang terletak di tangan-tangan yang sedar akannya.
Selamat Menyambut Hari Kemerdekaan ke -49.
And this is the first and the last for me to write about our Independence Day.
Kepada bondaku yang berada di London pada masa ini dan ayahandaku yang sedang mendendangkan lagu Frank Sinatra, anakanda dengan ikhlasnya menguntaikan ucapan terima kasih kerana me'merdeka'kan diriku ini :)
Di sebalik citrawarna kehujanan bunga-bunga api yg aku saksikan dari tempat kumenghirup aroma kopi menjelang jam 12 malam semalam, hati kecilku bertanya - apakah erti kemerdekaan yang sebenarnya? Aku melihat anak-anak bangsa dari pelbagai kaum dari pelbagai warna kulit menghiasi malam di sekitar KLCC dengan satu warna bendera tanahairku, Malaysia. Turut menyerikan suasana kehadiran pelancong-pelancong asing yang turut sama meraikan semangat kebangsaan negara tercintaku.
Aku terpegun dengan hujan-hujan warna berlatarkan langit malam yang terang, tetapi adakah aku pegun dengan kemerdekaan ini? Walaupun umur aku hanyalah separa jagung ulangtahun, aku masih tertanya-tanya, apakah kemerdekaan yang sebenarnya? Inkuiriku bertanya kepada ayahandaku beberapa hari yang lalu, siapakah yang memperjuangkan kemerdekaan kita sebenar-benarnya? Guru-guru dan penulis-penulislah yang erti penat dan putus asa tidak wujud dalam diari hidup mereka, yang terus menyuarakan perjuangan, yang terus mendaulatkan jati diri dan hak-hak bangsa Melayu, yang tidak tunduk di bawah telunjuk-telunjuk kuasa kolonilah - pejuang-pejuang sebenar yang patut tercatit di dalam buku sejarah kita. Bukannnya pemimpin yang menjadi boneka melaungkan laungan kosong, dan bukanlah pemimpin yang tunduk di bawah telunjuk jari-jemari koloni yang bermandi air kotor dengan pegangan kolot 'white men are always right'.
Kemerdekaan ini dipotraitkan dengan bangunan-bangunan yang mencakar langit dek indah dihiasi dengan lampu-lampu malam, infrastruktur yang tersergam megah bagaikan istana kayangan Babylon, ya! Aku bangga dengan semua pencapaian ini. Lagi tinggi banggaku ini jikalau kesemua pencakar-pencakar langit ini mempotraitkan keharmonian rakyat yang miskin dan kesedaran rakyat yang kaya, ketulusan terhadap cara yang sistematik dan kebencian kepada rasuah, dan pencakaran mentaliti kelas pertama yang dipamerkan oleh rakyat-rakyat Malaysia. Aku impikan pencakaran bangunan minda yang tidak buang sampah merata-rata, sifat cintai tandas-tandas awam, senyuman terhadap pelanggan, lafaz terima kasih, nilai murni membuka pintu untuk orang lain, dan keutamaan terhadap pejalan-pejalan kaki di laluan negara kita.
Alangkah bersyukurnya aku jikalau siswa-siswi dalam dan luar negara diberikan landasan demokrasi untuk menyuarakan pendapat, kerana inilah generasi yang menjadi 'beacon of flame' untuk negara pada masa akan datang. Yang akan menentukan hala tuju dan perjalanan polisi-polisi untuk mencapai taraf negara maju, seperti yang dilaungkan oleh para pemimpin dari dulu hingga sekarang, yang tidak lekang dek hujan dan panas, yang aku harapkan bukanlah hanya tin kosong yang tiada gunanya. Janganlah dikunci mulut ini kerana gentarkan manusia dan sayangkan kuasa, janganlah dibutakan hati kami, kerana kami pelajar bangsa berjanji, di mana bumi dipijak, di situ langit darah bangsa kami dijunjung.
Merdekakah kita apabila hak-hak keistimewaan Islam dan Melayu yang dimaktubkan di dalam perjanjian kemerdekaan dipersoalkan dan dicabul oleh badan-badan yang buta lagi kabur yang berlagak bagaikan helang di langit tinggi padahal hanyalah seekor burung gagak yang lapar berterbangan mencari mangsa?
Merdekakah kita sebenarnya? Natijahnya, tidak sempurna merdeka kita jikalau apa yang aku coretkan di atas adalah benar dan hanya disambut dengan mata-mata pesimis yang hanya merugikan negara kita sendiri. Salahkah aku menyuarakannya?
Marilah kita mengambil iktibar daripada penindasan kuasa pada tahun 1988, yang menyebabkan Tun Salleh Abbas menjadi kabur dan hilang di tengah lautan perhakiman negara apabila beliau dilucutkan jawatan kerana memperjuangkan hak yang benar, sehingga beliau mengatakan "I was so disillusioned by the judiciary system till I told my children and grandchildren not to learn law".
Sama sama kita menganjakkan paradigma, membuka mata dan fikiran seluas lautan Pasifik, mengimpikan Malaysia mengembalikan kegemilangan Andalusia yang terletak di tangan-tangan yang sedar akannya.
Selamat Menyambut Hari Kemerdekaan ke -49.
And this is the first and the last for me to write about our Independence Day.
Kepada bondaku yang berada di London pada masa ini dan ayahandaku yang sedang mendendangkan lagu Frank Sinatra, anakanda dengan ikhlasnya menguntaikan ucapan terima kasih kerana me'merdeka'kan diriku ini :)
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
From Kuala Lumpur to Monterrey
A new acquaintance from Mexico who is now practising as a doctor in Monterrey, north of Mexico (It is near Guadalupe. Source: Reader's Digest World Atlas). A friendly woman and her sense of profesionalism captures my degree of respect. Besides, her awareness of the ongoing global news arrived to her curiosity regarding the expulsion of Petronas in the oil concession in Chad; which I found further analysis of news is a must.
A woman doctor will always be respectable in the eyes of the public.
Now I am learning the Spanish language bit by bit, upon Eunice's favour; or she is more comfortable to be called Niza.
Bonito dia = have a nice day
Dulces suenos = goodnight
Como estas = how are you
Estoy bien = i'm good
Terima kasih Doctor Niza. All the best in your career :)
A woman doctor will always be respectable in the eyes of the public.
Now I am learning the Spanish language bit by bit, upon Eunice's favour; or she is more comfortable to be called Niza.
Bonito dia = have a nice day
Dulces suenos = goodnight
Como estas = how are you
Estoy bien = i'm good
Terima kasih Doctor Niza. All the best in your career :)
Monday, August 21, 2006
Monday, 21 Aug 2006
7.30 am: I went to Mont Kiara Medical Centre KLCC early this morning to arrange for my medical checkup appointment. Had an early, solitary breakfast at Coffee Bean soon after while catching up with the latest news by reading the newspaper, metaphorically my usual curtain-raiser of the day.
I took a cab back home, driven by a young Indian man. The sombre, with a bit of forlorn mood of most KL citizens in the morning was not the obvious reflection from his face. I decided to break the flame of silence in the cab by initating an informal conversation with him; I asked about his previous passengers and where did he send them to. As the guard of prejudism and self security has been laid down, the initial chat that seemed pointless arrived to a topic that I least expected from him - The dream castle built upon the heart of Siti Nurhaliza and Datuk K.
His explanation and positive views on the publicly-surreal marriage to most Malaysians awed me with the sense of respect towards him. He said let them choose the life that they believe in together, let us drain away the negative thinking as they are also human beings who only themselves know what is the best for them. Their personal matters and intangible issues preceeding the latter's divorce are not our garden to walk into.
I told the driver, yes. Let the garden blooms with colourful flora, the pouring rain will add the ambience of harmony if God permits; for the passers-by to cherish, and to ponder on what is good and bad in a marriage. Every marriage has its ups and downs, the pivot of a successful marriage is how a husband juggles them with his wife to let the ups prevail based on the experience of downs.
As Amrose Bierce quoted - Love: a temporary insanity, curable by marriage, and I added - with a good and successful woman :)
The sight of my dearest abode marked the sad end of this unexpected-yet-enriching conversation with this wonderful acquaintance whom humility prevails in him. I bid; Thank you Sir. Hope to meet you again in the future.
Pour de l'amore Siti Nurhaliza et Datuk K; my wish of future happiness is echoed by "Selamat mendirikan mahligai hidup suami isteri hehe. Tawanan hati terpaut di buaian indah seorang wanita yang berjaya apabila mahligai menyeru masanya"
Let them speak.
Let them talk.
Most people see grey in times of imaginating oneself in other people's shoes.
I see blue, I see red too in my willingness in analysing this wonderful issue. I prefer the former, based on my incompleteness of a human being which God knows the best for one's happiness.
:)
Now, let us pray for the disruption of the IFC. Not to forget, the evil-driven NGOs. You know which one. Yes.
S'il vous plait (svp) - Please response and show the dissatisfaction citizens.
I took a cab back home, driven by a young Indian man. The sombre, with a bit of forlorn mood of most KL citizens in the morning was not the obvious reflection from his face. I decided to break the flame of silence in the cab by initating an informal conversation with him; I asked about his previous passengers and where did he send them to. As the guard of prejudism and self security has been laid down, the initial chat that seemed pointless arrived to a topic that I least expected from him - The dream castle built upon the heart of Siti Nurhaliza and Datuk K.
His explanation and positive views on the publicly-surreal marriage to most Malaysians awed me with the sense of respect towards him. He said let them choose the life that they believe in together, let us drain away the negative thinking as they are also human beings who only themselves know what is the best for them. Their personal matters and intangible issues preceeding the latter's divorce are not our garden to walk into.
I told the driver, yes. Let the garden blooms with colourful flora, the pouring rain will add the ambience of harmony if God permits; for the passers-by to cherish, and to ponder on what is good and bad in a marriage. Every marriage has its ups and downs, the pivot of a successful marriage is how a husband juggles them with his wife to let the ups prevail based on the experience of downs.
As Amrose Bierce quoted - Love: a temporary insanity, curable by marriage, and I added - with a good and successful woman :)
The sight of my dearest abode marked the sad end of this unexpected-yet-enriching conversation with this wonderful acquaintance whom humility prevails in him. I bid; Thank you Sir. Hope to meet you again in the future.
Pour de l'amore Siti Nurhaliza et Datuk K; my wish of future happiness is echoed by "Selamat mendirikan mahligai hidup suami isteri hehe. Tawanan hati terpaut di buaian indah seorang wanita yang berjaya apabila mahligai menyeru masanya"
Let them speak.
Let them talk.
Most people see grey in times of imaginating oneself in other people's shoes.
I see blue, I see red too in my willingness in analysing this wonderful issue. I prefer the former, based on my incompleteness of a human being which God knows the best for one's happiness.
:)
Now, let us pray for the disruption of the IFC. Not to forget, the evil-driven NGOs. You know which one. Yes.
S'il vous plait (svp) - Please response and show the dissatisfaction citizens.
European Flame
An old book, the second reading:
1. The Flame Tree by Yang-May Ooi - Sybil commented; "A highly-charged, highly-readable thriller. It's also a fine portrait of a young Asian woman struggling to establish her own identity in Western society... Set against the contrasting backdrops of well-heeled London legal life and the lush, tropical highlands of Malaysia, the novel is a gripping, intelligent debut masterpiece from a writer with a future"
A new book, a new perspective:
2. I just bought it at Kinokuniya KLCC. Almost French: A New Life in Paris by Sarah Turnbull. As the writer wrote; "I left Australia hoping to cram a lifetime of adventures into one unforgettable year. Instead, I ended up with a new life. I'd taken one year's leave from my job as a television reporter in Sydney to travel around Europe. The idea was to immerse myself in fascinating foreign cultures, to work as a freelance journalist in Eastern Europe, which in my mind bubbled with unwritten, hard-hitting stories"
As George Moore quoted (1873-1958) - "A man travels the world in search of what he needs, and returns home to find it"
1. The Flame Tree by Yang-May Ooi - Sybil commented; "A highly-charged, highly-readable thriller. It's also a fine portrait of a young Asian woman struggling to establish her own identity in Western society... Set against the contrasting backdrops of well-heeled London legal life and the lush, tropical highlands of Malaysia, the novel is a gripping, intelligent debut masterpiece from a writer with a future"
A new book, a new perspective:
2. I just bought it at Kinokuniya KLCC. Almost French: A New Life in Paris by Sarah Turnbull. As the writer wrote; "I left Australia hoping to cram a lifetime of adventures into one unforgettable year. Instead, I ended up with a new life. I'd taken one year's leave from my job as a television reporter in Sydney to travel around Europe. The idea was to immerse myself in fascinating foreign cultures, to work as a freelance journalist in Eastern Europe, which in my mind bubbled with unwritten, hard-hitting stories"
As George Moore quoted (1873-1958) - "A man travels the world in search of what he needs, and returns home to find it"
Tuesday, August 15, 2006
Tiara's Touch
Venue: Istana Budaya
Writer's impression : Marvellous.
Heart-thumping.
Ear-catching music.
Tremendous Malay historical outshone.
Artistic and energetic theatrical display by Tiara Jacquelina, Stephen Rahman Hughes, Adlin Aman Ramli, AC Mizal, and the rest of the performers.
As Afdlin Shauki said, " Puteri Gunung Ledang the Musical is BEST GILER BABS!! OUTSTANDING MALAYSIAN ACHIEVEMENT! TAK TENGOK RUGI KODOK!!! " ;P
Tiara's touch completed my night.
Kudos to the impresario, for making it happened too.
Writer's impression : Marvellous.
Heart-thumping.
Ear-catching music.
Tremendous Malay historical outshone.
Artistic and energetic theatrical display by Tiara Jacquelina, Stephen Rahman Hughes, Adlin Aman Ramli, AC Mizal, and the rest of the performers.
As Afdlin Shauki said, " Puteri Gunung Ledang the Musical is BEST GILER BABS!! OUTSTANDING MALAYSIAN ACHIEVEMENT! TAK TENGOK RUGI KODOK!!! " ;P
Tiara's touch completed my night.
Kudos to the impresario, for making it happened too.
Saturday, August 12, 2006
Spanish Música
Another ordinary Saturday, but painted by the visit from my cousins who are now on holidays from Amsterdam.
Another new album to my delight - Sigo Siendo Yo by Marc Anthony and Grandes Exitos.
Another Spanish album recommended by father - Juanes.
Valio La Pena :)
Another new album to my delight - Sigo Siendo Yo by Marc Anthony and Grandes Exitos.
Another Spanish album recommended by father - Juanes.
Valio La Pena :)
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