Tuesday, October 25, 2011

..Kampung Jalan Kebun, Klang..













This is my dad's and his siblings' house. Well,was. Due to its atrocious condition and somewhat sadly, unrepairable state, it was demolished to make way for new developments. Of course for my dad, this house has many meaningful memories and plentiful stories, but for me personally, the house was much than just a house. It was the place where I have the fortune of having the grace and opportunity to have experienced having grandparents. People usually take this for granted. Why do we miss old people only when they are gone? Why dont we cherish them when they are still here with us? I dont know. To each his own.
Both grandparents on either side of my dad and my mum has been kind to me. My jawa grandmother couldn't speak even a single word of Malay, but she was nice and always gave me a smile. My jawa grandpa although toothless (lol) was a very reasonable person. He plays to the stereotype though, wearing Indonesian style songkok and eccentric baju batik, which I find rather awesome. Legends has it, that he was tough as nails and don't really give a rat's ass about anything when he was younger, even chasing a thief who was caught red handed stealing his chicken with a parang, just like a scene out of a Hong Kong triad movie. Well, when you have around 10 children to feed, every little thing matters.

Turns out all his children were sufficiently educated, having been taught our jawa people's humility, hard-work and togetherness. I know since my dad is the de facto head of the family now since he is the first born son, I sometimes think that although I know he is being kind, I just have the feeling that he spoils his little bros and sisters a bit. I don't have to look far than to reflect and see inside myself, I know that I am like that too, perhaps being too nice and too complacent. I'm not much different to my dad, we both know that.

Having said that, I miss that old creaky house. It was simple, cozy, breezy, I had some of the best times there with my cousins, uncles and aunties (maman, wak and bibik as we fondly call them). Jemput-jemput dipped with unexplained spicy sambal for breakfast, lempeng, strong black coffee, nothing can replace them now anymore. If I'm not mistaken, they didn't even have a fridge or proper place to store food and stuffs, such was the condition. My dad's family had their hard times, but it didn't mean much to them, all those worldly possessions. Family comes first. When it comes to my time, it is my responsibility to pay them back too.

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

..la tortura...



Nothing much. Just Shakira, shaking her booty.

Wednesday, October 12, 2011

..wordless Wednesday #1...

My room mate watching Hitman Reborn from his bed.

Monday, October 10, 2011

..a cryptic message..

I really wish I had my buddies to talk to right now. Fuck.

Friday, September 16, 2011

..Pretty Little Liars..

 Isnt she just adorable? And deadly too. I have my own version.


1 year has passed me by, and I'm currently in my 6th year of studies, and my 7th year of living in Moscow. My summer holidays was a bunch of mixed experience, but I guessed you could've just known that from viewing through my facebook albums and its many pictures. Only this time, I spent more time with the dudes, spending quality bromance time, to tell it more bluntly. I'm bitterly frustrated at not getting to be my mate Syamil's best man, as the wedding was postponed for a week after I was gone to Moscow. Sad, but he kinda promised to be my best man anytime soon. Weird. Arent married people not supposed to be best man? lol I'm not too sure about that anyway. Plus in any case, I got so many people on my mind on who is going to be my best dude. But lets not talk about it yet now shall we? =)

My only regret was not getting to see her for the last time before I flew away to Moscow. I thought she was already back from kampung when the day comes for me to fly but I was mistaken. Maybe the next time I'll see her again next year, she'll be married to some douche bag who doesn't know how to appreciate her as she is. Which is my biggest regret really. But you know, shit like these happens. It hurts me the most because she was my first, which in all respect I should have forgotten about her by now after almost 8 years. But she has this thing, like an invisible chain around my neck, with her sympathetic stories and such, and I'm such a sucker for that. But the marrying thing is normal I suppose. Most of my crushes and scandals *coughs* are already married or currently engaged. Good for them, since we are already 25 years old, and not 25 years young. Get it? =D


Moscow greeted me with her typical cold and harshness when I arrived at the Domodedovo International Airport by Emirates Airlines. I got ripped by fucking airport taxi, but that was to be expected. The lecturers were nice and negotiable for the first few cycles, so there were no problems for me. I moved to another room, since Hanhebat already graduated and I fear that some stinky caucasian guy will come and live with me, so I went to Shazli and Prem's room instead for refuge. The first few days was abit hard trying to rearrange my stuffs and the things Hanhebat left behind, so I took a couple of day to readjust to my new surroundings. I like the new room, its cosy, I live with 2 other people, so I suppose I will talk much more rather than just with 1 dude like Hanhebat lol.

Saturday, August 13, 2011

..Sunday slumber..

I couldn’t sleep just now. Maybe because my stomach was still full after sahur, maybe because I watched an episode of Criminal Minds, maybe because I just had iced coffee. Seems that there has been a lot of contributing factors. Whatever. Time just happened to pass by. People come and go. Me, I’ve been lucky that I always had a bunch of friends when I needed them. I am what people call, an introverted kind of person, someone who seems passive, not overwhelming, and seemingly not friendly. I don’t need to be. I have the best bunch of buddies that I need.

Hanhebat was an awesome friend and roommate, smart, athletic, good sense of dress, damn tall for a Malay, had just graduated and has finally now found his significant other. On the other side of things, he seemed disinterested in attending mundane functions, doesn’t do much of getting out of the room, doesn’t do things out of the ordinary, but basically if that certain activity doesn’t involve much of his buddies, he couldn’t care less. Pretty much sounds like me, haha but I’d like to think that I’m much more of an outdoor person than he is.

So that’s one of the example of my friends. We tend to choose friends that we can relate to, who can just hear patiently to whatever crap we talk about. Its never a question of how many friends we have, it’s the matter of quality. I always think I have the best bunch of buddies in the world, who shapes me to what I am today. Granted, I don’t have a significant other, but that special someone would someday appear in front me. Don’t get me wrong, we do have to work to get what we want, so I’m just saying that out of context. Whats wrong with being choosy right? I think I’m a swell guy by the way hehe :D

Anyway, that’s not what I’m concentrating for at the moment. In about less than a year’s time, I’m about to graduate and enter the life of a mundane government worker. Government worker eh, doesn’t sound too bad, except for the part where I have to work 90 hours a week. All the big names and old doctors says that we complain for working too much, whereas when they were in their youth, they work more hours than today’s fresh grads. But personally for me, the mentality has changed much now. People used to respect the work and professions of others, respect them for what they are doing, be it teachers, doctors, policemen. They appreciate that these guys are working hard, giving all they’ve got. How about now? Do they even stop and think, appreciate? All they know is , complaining and complaining, and trying to find the bad in everything we do. A little appreciation and acknowledgement goes a long way you know, it never hurts. Parents who scolds teachers for smacking their kids, while actually the brats were at fault. Relatives or patients who cannot understand why somehow the doctors look lackadaisical and uninterested in doing their job right. Come on, just stop and think.

Yeah I think it’s the coffee. Bloody hell. Oh well, good morning, Sunday.