tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-52863734389198219752024-02-20T09:06:01.188+08:00youCANNOTREADthisAn Art Of Wisdom Through Enough StupiditiesIgnizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06456041936439621425noreply@blogger.comBlogger168125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286373438919821975.post-44205126906457097412012-06-19T19:36:00.001+08:002012-06-19T19:38:10.931+08:00Apple, Tree, Family<b><i>Sometimes, you just want your family to stay together. </i></b><br />
<br />
<b>Boy</b>: Daddy, why do you have to go...?<br />
<b>Daddy</b>: Because I have to, boy.<br />
<b>Boy</b>: But why do you have to...??<br />
<b>Daddy</b>: I don't know. I guess.. it's part of His plan.<br />
<b>Boy</b>: I don't want you to go!!<br />
<b>Daddy</b>: Please don't act like this. Everyone has to go... someday.<br />
<b>Boy</b>: Not everyone has to...!!<br />
<br />
<b><i>Accepting the fact that everyone will have to face the painful reality sooner or later ... is not an easy task to do. </i></b><br />
<br />
<b>Daddy</b>: Be strong, my son... I know you can handle this.<br />
<b>Boy</b>: No...!!! This is so wrong!!! Why is everyone doing nothing!? Why don't you guys stop daddy!?<br />
<b>Big Sis</b>: Boy, stop it!! You are just making it worse!!<br />
<b>Boy</b>: Why can't all of us stay together at home...? Why does daddy have to go too?? Like mommy and baby girl! Why?? (<i>crying</i>)<br />
<b>Big Sis</b>: He told you already! He has to! Don't be such a wuss!<br />
<b>Big Bro</b>: Hey, boy, hey. Look at me. Look at me! (<i>looking into his baby brother's teary eyes</i>) You'll get through this... okay?<br />
<br />
<b><i>Words will not be enough. And no matter how hard you try to ignore it, the fact is there - one day we all have to leave.</i></b><br />
<br />
<b>Boy</b>: But mommy already left..! She took baby girl with her! Now daddy too!?<br />
<b>Big Bro</b>: Because mommy did what she had to do...<br />
<b>Boy</b>: Stop telling me that everyone has to do this and that! Who made that rule!?<br />
<b>Big Sis</b>: Oh God! What is wrong with you, boy!??<br />
<b>Daddy</b>: Calm down, everyone...<br />
<br />
<b><i>It will get worse.</i> </b><br />
<br />
<b>Big Sis</b>: How can I calm down... !?? It's just a damn report card day!! Baby girl was okay when mommy said she wanted to meet the teacher! Why can't you be the same?? Why..!??<br />
<b>Big Bro</b>: Yeah, boy... why? Is there anything you didn't tell us?<br />
<b>Daddy</b>: Boy...?<br />
<br />
<b><i>You will face the music. </i></b><br />
<br />
<b>Boy</b>: Because... I failed in Science, Mathematics and... four other subjects that I don't know how to pronounce.<br />
<b>Big Sis</b>: I knew it!<br />
<b>Big Bro</b>: Oh boy... (<i>shaking his head</i>)<br />
<b>Daddy</b>: Wait... did you say you failed in Mathematics?<br />
<br />
<i><b>But the night is darkest before the dawn... </b></i><br />
<br />
<b>Boy</b>: Yeah...<br />
<b>Daddy</b>: That's my boy!!!<br />
<br />
<i><b>In the end, life is not as hard as you imagine. Tehehee.</b></i><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
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</script><div class="blogger-post-footer">"EVERYTHING HAS TWO DIFFERENT SIDES OF VIEW, EVEN THOUGH IN YOUR EYES YOU CAN ONLY SEE ONE, NOT TWO"</div>Ignizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06456041936439621425noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286373438919821975.post-31837388995700843422012-02-27T17:56:00.003+08:002012-02-27T19:24:04.666+08:00Strength That Lies WithinI am currently teaching at International Islamic University Malaysia (IIUM). And I want to share a story.<br /><br />We know that everybody has his or her own routine, every day. Some wake up early in the morning in order to work and hope that tomorrow they will live a better life. While some wake up early in the morning just to go to class and learn, and wish that whatever they get today can and shall be useful tomorrow. In the end, they too, will hope to live a better life like anyone else.<br /><br />If you are here at IIUM, you will see all sorts of people from all over the world. Many of them come to Malaysia because they want to pursue their dreams. However, some of them claim that they have no choice but to be here. And a few of them feel that they don't even belong here. Especially when they have to go to a certain department where they have to learn a certain language before they are allowed to enter their targeted course. This is where I come in. As one of the teachers responsible to help this group of students, I spend five days a week being in that department, watching them. Sometimes I teach them, but I will say that most of the time, I learn from them.<br /><br />Don't you agree if I say that we all love to complain? It's like whenever we have the chance to complain, we will happily do it. You don't like this, I don't like that. We will talk and proficiently use the language that we are supposed to learn when we do this. We may not be fluent or accurate in the language, but when we say what we have in mind, all the grammatical rules of the language will suddenly become familiar. We know them like the back of our hand.<br /><br />But then I look closer. And I see the 50 to 60 year-old students in my class. I look at them. I watch them. I wonder.<br /><br />They could sit back and relax, while watching movies and listening to songs. They could laugh at all the jokes their sons tell. They could taste all the delicious food their daughters prepare on the dining table. And they could wake up every morning in the arms of a loving partner. They could have all those at home, in their respective country. In this range of age, everything would seem perfect if they could do or have it with the warmth of a family.<br /><br />But they don't have it.<br /><br />Instead, they travel a thousand miles away from home, just to be here. Most of us would think, "I am old already, why should I bother going to another country just to have my own scroll?" But these people, they see from a mysterious angle. An angle that perhaps younger people like us don't know it exists. That is why despite their bones are cracking and their health is deteriorating, they come to class to listen and talk, to read and write, and to learn. They could have all the dreams any old man and woman would die to have, but they choose this - something that they can leave behind. They choose knowledge.<br /><br />So who are we to complain that studying sucks when these people are willing to leave their family and do it here? Who are we to give up doing the homework when these people stay in the class doing it, with both cheeks full of tears because their sons are lying weak on a hospital bed just a continent away from them? Who are we to curse when we don't understand a word in the notes we are reading the night before the exams, when these people miss their daughter's wedding because they need to stay for the finals?<br /><br />We may not realize it, but the reason we always see things negatively is because we always have a choice. We are in our own comfort zone. But these people, they live every day on what they have on the day. It may not be enough, but they will make do. In order to seek the knowledge they want, they live and struggle for it. And they tell me that there is no such a thing called 'too late to learn'. They show me how strong they are... and that whatever strength they have that makes them this powerful, I can have that too.<br /><br />We all can.<br /><!-- nuffnang --><script type="text/javascript">nuffnang_bid = "56e3e4aeae06d628b37b8c5af186ef37";</script><script type="text/javascript" src="http://synad2.nuffnang.com.my/k.js"></script><!-- nuffnang--><div class="blogger-post-footer">"EVERYTHING HAS TWO DIFFERENT SIDES OF VIEW, EVEN THOUGH IN YOUR EYES YOU CAN ONLY SEE ONE, NOT TWO"</div>Ignizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06456041936439621425noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286373438919821975.post-86122398957329138712012-01-17T16:27:00.005+08:002012-01-17T18:38:18.452+08:00Award Winning Teachers<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Principal</span>:<br />Assalamualaikum and good morning. Thank you for being here today. Okay, I won't take much longer and without further ado I will just go into the issue for today's meeting. There's only one issue, anyway, which is regarding the SPM Straight As workshop that we'll be having later this month. How many students do we plan on having, Teacher Dabest?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Excellent Teacher Dabest:</span><br />180 students, sir.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Principal</span>:<br />180? Okay, sounds manageable. Have you decided on which students you are planning to bring in to the workshop or are you planning to make it open for everyone and let students decide whether to join?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Excellent Teacher Dabest:</span><br />I have decided to bring in students from the first three classes from Form Four and Five respectively, sir.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Other Teachers</span>:<br />Owh...<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Teacher Nobadey:</span><br />Wait, the first three classes? Only the first three classes? Why don't we make it open for everyone?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Excellent Teacher Dabest:</span><br />Because we all know that students from the first three classes will really use this chance to improve themselves. They are excellent students, motivated and more reliable.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Teacher Nobadey:</span><br />Yes, I agree with that, but what about students from other classes?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Excellent Teacher Dabest:</span><br />There won't be any students from other classes. They will not be interested to join.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Teacher Nobadey:</span><br />What if there ARE students from other classes who want to join and improve themselves?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Excellent Teacher Dabest:</span><br />Well, even if they are interested, the chances for them to score As are not as good as those students from the top classes.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Teacher Nobadey:</span><br />Oh, so you're saying that if they are not capable of scoring an A in the exam, they are not allowed to join a workshop and improve their grades? If that's what you mean, then these students WILL NEVER score an A, ever.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Excellent Teacher Dabest:</span><br />Look, let me tell you something. Students from the first three classes are capable to handle all the pressure around them. They can handle mountains of homework, workshops and extra classes. They can handle being scolded by teachers for not being able to finish their homework on time. They don't skip classes!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Teacher Nobadey:</span><br />And that is why we need to give this chance to other students who are not from the top classes as well. Because they weren't really involved in the classroom, so maybe here they will get involved or at least learn from the top students.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Excellent Teacher Dabest:</span><br />You are not getting the point. The probability for top students to learn something and improve from this workshop is way higher than those from other classes. So it is better for us to bet on them.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Teacher Nobadey:</span><br />And ignore the others?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Excellent Teacher Dabest:</span><br />Look, you're new here. You are a new teacher. While I am an award-winning teacher. I have been here for years. I am the best. I have produced straight-A students more than any other teachers here. I have given thousands of exercises, extra classes, and homework to thousands of students. I have always taught the top students and I know what they are capable of. I have used methods that no other teachers are willing to do. I think I know if I am making a bad decision, but I am not sure about you.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Principal</span>:<br />Err... calm down. Let's have a cup of tea, everyone.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Teacher Nobadey:</span><br />Have you taught students from weaker classes?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Excellent Teacher Dabest:</span><br />Excuse me?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Teacher Nobadey:</span><br />The reason why all those styles of yours worked on those students is because you taught good students. Like you said, they are motivated. They really care about their performance and they fight for better grades. So no matter how difficult or ridiculous your methods are, they will just deal with them. Because they don't want anything to happen and prevent them from getting the best marks and grades possible.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Excellent Teacher Dabest:</span><br />What are you trying to say?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Teacher Nobadey:</span><br />Unlike these teachers around you, they have to deal with weaker students. Students who are not motivated. Students who don't care about their marks and grades. Students who are ready to skip a class the moment it gets boring or too difficult. Because of that, these so called not-the-best teachers have to use different methods. Because they have to start from the very beginning - which is to motivate these students. To make them want to learn. To keep them interested. Your job is half done because you get good students, which I'm not saying it's easy - you might face difficulties as well, but these teachers... they have more to deal with.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Excellent Teacher Dabest:</span><br />......<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Teacher Nobadey:</span><br />So what I'm trying to say is, just because your students always score a lot of As all the time, it does not mean you're the best teacher. What about those teachers who care more about their students than their results? What about those teachers who stay up late at night because their students call and cry because of family problems? What about those teachers who don't give mountains of homework and extra classes because they know that their students can't keep up? I believe that when a weak student wants to remain in the class when the teacher is around - that teacher has done a good job. When a weak student wants to remain in the class even when the teacher is NOT around - that teacher has done a great job. Scoring 20 As is not the only way for you to measure a teacher's success. Keeping them away from wasting time doing meaningless stuff, making them stay in class and learn step by step, and giving them hope and belief when they don't score - these count too. And trust me, while you are busy counting the amount of exercises you have yet to give to your students, these teachers bang their head against the wall trying to come up with activities just to make sure their less motivated students learn something.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Excellent Teacher Dabest:</span><br />........<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Teacher Nobadey:</span><br />So when you say you know what your top students are capable of, we know what our weak students are capable of, too. And they deserve every chance you believe your top students deserve. So with all due respect, make it open for everyone.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Principal:</span><br />Hoyeahhhhhhh!!!<br /><br /><!-- nuffnang --><script type="text/javascript">nuffnang_bid = "56e3e4aeae06d628b37b8c5af186ef37";</script><script type="text/javascript" src="http://synad2.nuffnang.com.my/k.js"></script><!-- nuffnang--></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">"EVERYTHING HAS TWO DIFFERENT SIDES OF VIEW, EVEN THOUGH IN YOUR EYES YOU CAN ONLY SEE ONE, NOT TWO"</div>Ignizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06456041936439621425noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286373438919821975.post-59711390191569421302012-01-01T10:52:00.012+08:002012-01-01T12:29:08.361+08:00Black's Dream<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVMiDO0aMsjDOKdufJBWcYvogosAfetjpErIRPAHQawBKJDtwUqJv9JcoRxpohfBia61etSXjkrOjGPPyZGaZW-54HuHhVV-LxBwKLXeEvpeOZHrvWt36itQ0nT48v10kjqkybr2sNUDHI/s1600/1.JPG"><img style="display: block; 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margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsbk12pqmkO1_yvfijk2DfyybzZvM4tPiAlos2Lykd0PnJ72FZyjqQc5S8WivGybNBwe_tw6QUI7D3SgR3Zbta0Fqn8-RMm2c6hjmqqI7beICV0c34BA8fXmUZHMoOP7YqcWxHs7ZC93qg/s320/15.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5692492892370096098" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJwJzXt25nJ-zEu2AqmarFSxStGX2EiXF7Cq_FFoPRelYI2K1G_BthruLN6sNaTj6Nxz0iAeEzCfSWINWrmOcEn4fdJNkMgMosCIdDAfx8hhLgb9JztSBsW96NpqAzQxHUt5tkhuyhHBS3/s1600/16.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJwJzXt25nJ-zEu2AqmarFSxStGX2EiXF7Cq_FFoPRelYI2K1G_BthruLN6sNaTj6Nxz0iAeEzCfSWINWrmOcEn4fdJNkMgMosCIdDAfx8hhLgb9JztSBsW96NpqAzQxHUt5tkhuyhHBS3/s320/16.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5692492891771929698" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuBDuwZUQAXq9qpeNKQ2-gFeojw0unzlyF3yR9lXNpk9I82DA6nS9JVp_62aT27TrAfGaBtN5H90-cvg3YS4f_UnNmIMNpEUkD-5nsteYDOWntYBZI1E0kKRiOeY8A6tzW-QNyYbQ2oluf/s1600/17.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuBDuwZUQAXq9qpeNKQ2-gFeojw0unzlyF3yR9lXNpk9I82DA6nS9JVp_62aT27TrAfGaBtN5H90-cvg3YS4f_UnNmIMNpEUkD-5nsteYDOWntYBZI1E0kKRiOeY8A6tzW-QNyYbQ2oluf/s320/17.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5692492883773039074" border="0" /></a><br />Happy 2012, everyone.<br /><!-- nuffnang --><script type="text/javascript">nuffnang_bid = "56e3e4aeae06d628b37b8c5af186ef37";</script><script type="text/javascript" src="http://synad2.nuffnang.com.my/k.js"></script><!-- nuffnang--><div class="blogger-post-footer">"EVERYTHING HAS TWO DIFFERENT SIDES OF VIEW, EVEN THOUGH IN YOUR EYES YOU CAN ONLY SEE ONE, NOT TWO"</div>Ignizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06456041936439621425noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286373438919821975.post-693986469830243472011-12-02T15:36:00.005+08:002011-12-03T18:57:48.799+08:00It Is In The Morning Your Memories Play Their Best Trick<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Librarian</span>:<br />That is him. Is he the one?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Woman</span>:<br />Yes, he's my brother.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Librarian</span>:<br />He spends most of his time in this section, reading all the poems he can find.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Woman</span>:<br />He loves poetry.<br /><br />***************************************************************************<br /><br />"Stop it, I'm driving."<br /><br />"So what? It's not that I'm interrupting you or your vision."<br /><br />"Yes, but I need to concentrate. We're already late. And I don't even know the way. I need to focus on the signboards."<br /><br />"But I'm bored. I need to read something, so I read your poems. I love reading your poems."<br /><br />"Thank you, I appreciate that. But can you read it silently?"<br /><br />"Don't want! Now listen to this..."<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">And this is a story about a boy with a vision</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br />With a dream and another dream</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br />As he stares blankly at the walls</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br />His heart beats endlessly </span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br />He thinks of everyone</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br />Who has succeeded and who has not</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br />He looks at the images portrayed from the back of his mind</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br />And they speak a language he doesn't understand</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br />He tries and tries to say it</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">"Why can't everything be so easy?"</span><br /><br />"Why can't everything be so easy? For instance, driving at the moment. Please, I can't focus when I have to look at the signboards and listen to your reading at the same time."<br /><br />"What does this part mean, darling?"<br /><br />"Not now... not now. Oh... God, great. Now it's raining cats and dogs."<br /><br />"Wow... how romantic! Reading poems to you with the rain as soundtrack!"<br /><br />"You got one twisted sense of romance, sweetheart."<br /><br />"Come on, come on! Let's continue!"<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">The lost memories barge in every day</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">When the sun goes up, when his eyes open</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br />The ongoing mission doesn't seem to want to end</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">The dark days don't seem to want to go</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br />When he sees her he sees everything</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br />When she goes away the dimmest light seems blinding</span><br /><br />"Are you talking about his dream or his love for the girl? Is the girl me? Wait, the boy is you!"<br /><br />"What makes you think so? I created him as anybody."<br /><br />"No, no, this boy has to be you. So that I can be the girl! Listen to this!"<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">She loves to smile a thousand times</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br />She dreams of him the boy with a vision</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br />With a dream and another dream</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br />He loves to stay late and listen</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br />To the pursuit of happiness she loves to imagine</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br />Then the green hearts sing together</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br />The song of rhythmic poetries</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br />Dum da ba da, dum da ba da</span><br /><br />"Aww... so sweet! Let's read the last stanza together!"<br /><br />"Shush! I need to take this U-turn!"<br /><br />*****************************************************************<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Dum da ba da, he will be the academia</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Dum da ba da, or maybe the best person in Asia</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br />Dum da ba da, or he could be the president of Russia</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br />Dum da ba da</span><span style="font-style: italic;">, dum da ba da<br /></span><span style="font-style: italic;">Soulless iron skin meets warm rosy heart<br />So he sings a song like his love is an art</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Dum da ba da, dum da ba da</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Poet</span>:<br />I still can't find a suitable title for this poem.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Woman</span>:<br />You will get it sooner or later. Let's go home.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Poet</span>:<br />Should I name it "Dum Da Ba Da"?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Woman</span>:<br />That's a beautiful name. She would have loved it.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Poet</span>:<br />No! She would have not! She had always loved direct words. God, I should've listened to her. I shouldn't have rushed, shouldn't have taken that damned U-turn.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Woman</span>:<br />How often do you miss her?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Poet</span>:<br />Every second.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Woman</span>:<br />When do you miss her most?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Poet</span>:<br />In the morning, every day.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Woman</span>:<br />There you have it, your title.<br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">"EVERYTHING HAS TWO DIFFERENT SIDES OF VIEW, EVEN THOUGH IN YOUR EYES YOU CAN ONLY SEE ONE, NOT TWO"</div>Ignizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06456041936439621425noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286373438919821975.post-77207874482978960682011-11-06T20:52:00.006+08:002011-11-08T17:39:42.097+08:00We Are Who We AreIt's never easy to really live as a person we truly want to be, nevertheless we'll end up trying our best in order to become one. Some of us struggle just to make sure the path that they take is leading them towards the right destination, while some take easier ways, inherited from their families; money, status and power. The wealth of one's family can be the determining factor to charge forward faster than anyone else. But life is not always that fair, for sometimes, based on mere patience and never-ending efforts, the tortoises emerge as winners instead of the rabbits.<br /><br />I wasn't born in a rich family. I didn't have all those things that rich kids were playing with. When I entered school, I carried hope from my parents and brothers who never got the chance to finish what they had started. In fact, my late dad's dying wish to my brothers was to make sure this little guy finish his studies. They did. I did.<br /><br />I used to envy the rich kids. They could have everything they ever wanted. I didn't always wish to get all the toys, the branded shirts and pants or even the cool mobile phones that they had. The only thing that made me envious all the time was the fact that they could afford to go and study wherever they wanted. I remember early in the morning on the registration day, me and my aunt were hopping from one bank to another just to withdraw RM40 from her account. The ATMs had only RM50 notes in them, and my aunt's account had RM43.20. My mother had given me all her money and my aunt did as well. The ones in her account were the last - our last resort. But thank God, we managed to find one ATM with RM10 notes and have myself registered. I said to myself, "If only we were rich."<br /><br />But I saw something else later on. The rich kids, not all but most of them, were wasting their time and family's money. They lingered and skipped classes, and they proudly announced, "Every semester is my new semester". Not because they enjoyed it like the married couples' famous words, "Every night is our first night", but because they got barred or failed in the exams in every semester. I told myself, "If that's the attitude I would have for being rich, then I thank God for making me this broke." Yes, maybe I said that because I was indeed broke. Maybe if I was rich, I would be proud of being like them. Maybe.<br /><br />I had my ups and downs, but I think I turned out to be a pretty decent guy. Not the best, but quite okay. I have fulfilled my dad's last wish and despite having done all that, I still want more. I still want to move forward. I don't want to stop. Because I realize now that money won't make you human. It's the upbringing; the family and friends you have around you... and knowledge. That's why I thank God for making me like this, for giving me the family and friends that I have now, and for providing me with mountains of knowledge to climb and explore.<br /><br />We can complain about the things around us, but that does not tell us anything. Because when we look at them again one more time, we'll know that they are the reasons why we are who we are. I can never be who I am today without my family, friends, knowledge and those ATMs. Can you?<div class="blogger-post-footer">"EVERYTHING HAS TWO DIFFERENT SIDES OF VIEW, EVEN THOUGH IN YOUR EYES YOU CAN ONLY SEE ONE, NOT TWO"</div>Ignizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06456041936439621425noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286373438919821975.post-53246165929656557792011-10-26T19:53:00.013+08:002011-10-31T13:18:47.519+08:00Money Honey<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Badol</span>:<br />Hey you...<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Tijah</span>:<br />Yes?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Badol</span>:<br />I'm not rich. I don't have money. I cannot buy you stuff. I cannot always treat you to lunch and dinner. Is that okay?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Tijah</span>:<br />Not a problem.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Badol</span>:<br />And I cannot buy you a cool birthday present or throw you a surprise birthday party.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Tijah</span>:<br />Don't worry about that.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Badol</span>:<br />And even if I had money, I wouldn't buy you anything more expensive than the ones I bought for my mom. For my mom's birthday last month, I only managed to buy her a cake which cost me about RM29.90. And a pack of strawberry tissues worth RM4.90.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Tijah</span>:<br />You should be proud of yourself.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Badol</span>:<br />I'm so broke right now. I can't even have my glasses fixed. See? I'm not wearing them because they are sort of... damaged. I kind of accidentally sat on them yesterday.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Tijah</span>:<br />Don't worry. When you have the money, go have them fixed first, okay? Your glasses are more important. You're driving, right? It's very dangerous.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Badol</span>:<br />But I wanna be a cool boyfriend who gives his girlfriend everything she wants. I wanna be the one who wipes your tears using RM100 notes. I wanna do my best.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Tijah</span>:<br />That's so sweet... but don't force yourself, okay? You don't have to do that.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Badol</span>:<br />Why... are you so understanding? God! I'm so lucky to have you! (<span style="font-style: italic;">holding her hands excitedly</span>)<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Tijah</span>:<br />Eh... wait! Wait! What are you doing?! (<span style="font-style: italic;">pulling away</span>)<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Jijah</span>:<br />Hey, Badol! What are you doing?!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Badol</span>:<br />Eh...?! (<span style="font-style: italic;">confused</span>)<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Jijah</span>:<br />I can't believe this! You are cheating on me! How dare you!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Badol</span>:<br />Jijah...?! You're Jijah?! Then who is this girl?!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Tijah</span>:<br />Hello, I'm Tijah.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Badol</span>:<br />Ti... Tijah?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Jijah</span>:<br />What now?! Pretending not to know her?! Damn it, Badol! <span style="font-style: italic;">Dah la miskin, main kayu tiga pulak tu! Jantan tak sedar diri! </span>Ptuihhhh! (<span style="font-style: italic;">leaving the scene angrily</span>)<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Badol</span>:<br />Oh my God! Wait, Jijah, wait! I'm not wearing my glasses! That's why I didn't see that she's not you! Wait! (<span style="font-style: italic;">trying to stop her</span>)<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Jijah</span>:<br />Get lost! I should've known it! You are a worthless piece of crap! And you're so poor! Just leave me alone! I don't need a guy like you! I deserve better!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Badol</span>:<br />No... please. Jijah, please! Please! Please! Please understand! Please! I love you! (<span style="font-style: italic;">holding her hands tightly and begging on his knees</span><span style="font-style: italic;"></span>)<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Janitor</span>:<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Akak dah kawin, dik.<br /><br /></span><span style="font-weight: bold;">Badol</span>:<br />Huh?<span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Tijah</span>:<br />Dude... that's... the janitor. Your girlfriend has left already. That way. (<span style="font-style: italic;">pointing at the girl who is about... 100 metres away</span>)<span style="font-weight: bold;"></span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Badol</span>:<br />Owh. So... sorry. <span style="font-style: italic;">Salah orang.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Tijah</span>:<br />Dude, I gotta go. Nice meeting you.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Badol</span>:<br />Wait! Wait! Can I meet you again, later? Someday?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Tijah</span>:<br />Why? What for?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Badol</span>:<br />I wanna know you. Because you're... cool. You don't care about money and stuff.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Tijah</span>:<br />Says who?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Badol</span>:<br />You said it yourself just now... that it's not a problem that I don't have money and cannot buy you stuff. That I shouldn't worry about it.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Tijah</span>:<br />Oh, you got me wrong. I said "It's not a problem" because you're not my boyfriend. If you were my boyfriend, that would be a BIG problem. Plus, I already have a boyfriend and he's insanely rich. He's so rich that when he farts, it smells money... and a bit of curry. Anyway, goodbye and good luck!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Badol</span>:<br />Ceh.<br /><br /><br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">"EVERYTHING HAS TWO DIFFERENT SIDES OF VIEW, EVEN THOUGH IN YOUR EYES YOU CAN ONLY SEE ONE, NOT TWO"</div>Ignizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06456041936439621425noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286373438919821975.post-81363686557663850262011-09-12T10:48:00.002+08:002011-09-12T11:08:08.396+08:00How To Destroy A Laptop By Just Staring At It<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Step One</span><br />Get a laptop.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Step Two</span><br />Put the laptop in front of you.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Step Three</span><br />Stare at it.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Step Four</span><br />While staring at it, call someone you really trust to come over.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Step Five</span><br />While still staring at, tell that someone to take the laptop and throw it against the wall.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Step Six</span><br />Still keeping your eyes on it, tell that someone to make sure the laptop is in pieces. Step on it, bang it on the floor or burn it, even.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Step Seven</span><br />Keep staring at the laptop.<br /><br />Congratulations! You have successfully destroyed a laptop by just staring at it.<br />Just because it SOUNDS impossible, does not mean it IS impossible.<br /><!-- nuffnang --><script type="text/javascript">nuffnang_bid = "56e3e4aeae06d628b37b8c5af186ef37";</script><script type="text/javascript" src="http://synad2.nuffnang.com.my/k.js"></script><!-- nuffnang--></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">"EVERYTHING HAS TWO DIFFERENT SIDES OF VIEW, EVEN THOUGH IN YOUR EYES YOU CAN ONLY SEE ONE, NOT TWO"</div>Ignizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06456041936439621425noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286373438919821975.post-24916514536746716512011-09-04T20:54:00.005+08:002011-09-05T00:27:19.836+08:00Edisi Khas Bahasa Melayu 6: Hikayat Seram Garpu MahaswanseaGarpu Mahaswansea sedang lena diulit mimpi. Tilam katilnya yang empuk sentiasa membuatkannya berdengkur beriramakan muzik Rock Jiwang kontemporari dari negara seberang yang suatu masa dahulu sangat dipopularkan oleh sebuah band yang penyanyi utamanya ditangkap kerana bergomol-gomol di dalam sebuah video yang tersebar luas.
<br />
<br />Jam menunjukkan 12.36 tengah malam. Telefon bimbit didatangi dengan skrin boleh cucuk-cucuk jari miliknya berbunyi. Gadis bernama Pishau menelefon. Sambil berguling-guling, Garpu Mahaswansea menjawab dengan manja. "<span style="font-style: italic;">Ye Pishauuuu...nape call malam-malam camni? Pupu dah tido tau...</span>". Gadisnya menjawab, "<span style="font-style: italic;">Saja je. Boleh ke tak? Kalau boleh cakap "Oh yeah!", kalau tak boleh cakap...</span>", sebelum sempat si gadis itu menghabiskan ayatnya, Garpu Mahaswansea yang masih berguling-guling itu terguling di atas seorang... seekor... sebungkus pocong.
<br />
<br />"<span style="font-style: italic;">Oh najis! Oh najis! Ohhhhh najissssss!</span>", Garpu Mahaswansea terjatuh dari katilnya sambil menjerit ketakutan.
<br />
<br />Pocong itu bangun dan senyum. Tanpa membuang masa, Garpu Mahaswansea bergegas lari ke arah pintu dengan niat berlari lintang-pukang gaya <span style="font-style: italic;">backstroke</span>, andai kata si pocong itu mengejarnya. Namun tombol pintu bilik yang digenggamnya keras membatu tidak boleh dipusing.
<br />
<br />"<span style="font-style: italic;">Bukak la wei!! Bukak!!!</span>", teriak Garpu Mahaswansea dalam ketakutan. Baru disedarinya bahawa tombol yang cuba dipusingnya itu kelihatan seperti kepala botak bersaiz kecil berwarna kuning seakan-akan kepala toyol. Rupa-rupanya memang toyol! Lantas Garpu Mahaswansea menerajang semua benda, binatang mahupun makhluk yang berada di depannya dan berlari keluar. Ketika itu baru dia sedar bahawa tangannya masih memegang telefon bimbit skrin cucuk-cucuk jari dengan nama 'Pishau Nom Nom' di talian.
<br />
<br />"<span style="font-style: italic;">Hello! Pishau! Pishau! Tolong Pupu! Tolong Pupu! Tolooo...</span>", ditolehnya betul-betul, telefon bimbit yang disangka dipegangnya itu sudah tiada, tapi kepala penanggal tersenyum sinis ada! Dilemparnya ke dinding sekuat hati sebaik sahaja penanggal itu mencium pipinya.
<br />
<br />"<span style="font-style: italic;">Kejap! Kejap! Kejappppp!</span>", Sidop mencelah.
<br />
<br />"<span style="font-style: italic;">Apa?</span>", Kudes terpinga-pinga.
<br />
<br />"<span style="font-style: italic;">Part guling atas pocong tu aku boleh terima lagi, part tombol pintu jadi kepala toyol pun okey la, aku layankan je. Part henpon jadi kepala penanggal tu aku tak boleh blah. Saiz tak sama kot! Siap cium pulak.</span>"
<br />
<br />"<span style="font-style: italic;">Ala, lantaklah. Ni cerita aku.</span>"
<br />
<br />"<span style="font-style: italic;">Kot ye pun, agak-agak ar. Hukum fiziknya bertabur benor. Dah la tu, berapa banyak hantu ko nak masukkan hah? Baru keluar bilik dah ada tiga. Kalau sampai pintu luar, tangga bilik, mangkuk jamban, pagar luar, berapa kau nak bagi? 30?</span>"
<br />
<br />"<span style="font-style: italic;">Potong stim betul la kau ni. Ah, aku tanak tukar. Lantak la apa ko dengan editor aku nak cakap, aku tidak akan memberi seketul najis pun. Ni cerita aku.</span>"
<br />
<br />"<span style="font-style: italic;">Ptuiiiii!</span>"
<br />
<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">...... Maka ditakdirkan tuhan ceritera 'Hikayat Seram Garpu Mahaswansea' mendapat sambutan hangat dari pembaca lalu dipilih oleh tiga orang direktur adik-beradik negara untuk diadaptasikan menjadi filem komedi seram yang bakal ditayangkan pada Syawal 2012.</span>.....
<br /><!-- nuffnang --><script type="text/javascript">nuffnang_bid = "56e3e4aeae06d628b37b8c5af186ef37";</script><script type="text/javascript" src="http://synad2.nuffnang.com.my/k.js"></script><!-- nuffnang--><div class="blogger-post-footer">"EVERYTHING HAS TWO DIFFERENT SIDES OF VIEW, EVEN THOUGH IN YOUR EYES YOU CAN ONLY SEE ONE, NOT TWO"</div>Ignizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06456041936439621425noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286373438919821975.post-22204672566656885942011-08-24T09:34:00.003+08:002011-08-24T10:00:25.406+08:00The Art Of Laughing So People Can Understand<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Ey</span>:
<br />Hahahahahahahaha!
<br />
<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Bi</span>:
<br />Heheheheheheheh!
<br />
<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Si:</span>
<br />Nyeeeeeehehehehehehehe!
<br />
<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Di:</span>
<br />Huahuahuahuah!
<br />
<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Iy:</span>
<br />Bahahahahahahaha!
<br />
<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Ef</span>:
<br />Muahahahahahaha!
<br />
<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Ji:</span>
<br />Hohohohoho!
<br />
<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Hesh:</span>
<br />Nohohohoho!
<br />
<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Ai:</span>
<br />Kihkihkihkihkih!
<br />
<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Jey:</span>
<br />Kahkahkahkahkah!
<br />
<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Kay:</span>
<br />Waaaaaarghahahahahahaha!
<br />
<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">El:</span>
<br />Ngehngohngehngohngeh!
<br />
<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Em:</span>
<br />Hikhikhikhik!
<br />
<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">En:</span>
<br />Hihihihihi!
<br />
<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Oo:</span>
<br />Hnnss..hnnsss..heh..hehheh..hehennn...nggg...nnngg...nnnnnahahahahahahaha! (<span style="font-style: italic;">evil laugh</span>)
<br />
<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Pi:</span>
<br />Hakhakhakhak!
<br />
<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Kiu:</span>
<br />Hauhauhauhauhauhau!
<br />
<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Ar:</span>
<br />Hehohehohehohei!
<br />
<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Es:</span>
<br />Behbehbehbehbeh!
<br />
<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Ti:</span>
<br />Agagagagaga!
<br />
<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Yu:</span>
<br />Ajajajajajaja!
<br />
<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Vi:</span>
<br />Vavavavavavava!
<br />
<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Dabelyu:</span>
<br />Nyehnyehnyeh!
<br />
<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Eks:</span>
<br />Ngengehngeh!
<br />
<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Wai:</span>
<br />Ahaks!
<br />
<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Zek:</span>
<br />LOL!
<br />
<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Everybody:</span>
<br />???
<br />
<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Zek:</span>
<br />LOL!
<br />
<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Everybody:</span>
<br />LOL?
<br />
<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Zek:</span>
<br />Yeah, LOL. Laughing Out Loud.
<br />
<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Ey:</span>
<br />That's not laughing. That's a description of a 'laughing' action. When you're drowning in the sea, instead of screaming, "Help! Help! Help!", do you say, "IAAFH."?
<br />
<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Zek:</span>
<br />Umm...I don't know.. what's IAAFH?
<br />
<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Ey:</span>
<br />I Am Asking For Help. Hahahahahahahahaha!
<br /><!-- nuffnang --><script type="text/javascript">nuffnang_bid = "56e3e4aeae06d628b37b8c5af186ef37";</script><script type="text/javascript" src="http://synad2.nuffnang.com.my/k.js"></script><!-- nuffnang--></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">"EVERYTHING HAS TWO DIFFERENT SIDES OF VIEW, EVEN THOUGH IN YOUR EYES YOU CAN ONLY SEE ONE, NOT TWO"</div>Ignizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06456041936439621425noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286373438919821975.post-46481759936002108562011-08-12T09:38:00.009+08:002011-09-04T21:38:47.766+08:00My First Encounter With An Alien<div style="text-align: center;">Valaha was sketching in his room. He had to submit the final draft of his latest cafe design by the next day. It was so stupid. As an architect, he should have never messed with the cafe owner... wait, scratch that. Being an architect has got nothing to do with never messing with a cafe owner. Well, long story short, he told the cafe owner that the layout of his food shop was messed up. And the owner was pissed, he dared him to come up with a new layout in two days, or he had to pay for everyone's meal for a whole week, If he succeeded, then he got to eat there for free... for a year.
<br />
<br />Back to his current situation, he was giving the final touch to his new layout. When he was just about to finish everything, he heard a bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
<br />
<br />It sounded like a series of explosions! Or perhaps firecrackers. He looked outside.
<br />
<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"What the hell???"</span>
<br />
<br />There was a greyish little man, or boy, standing outside of his house. He stared at Valaha... and smiled.
<br />
<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"Hi there! Wanna join? I have loads of these things, let's play together!"</span>, the grey man, or boy, offered some of his firecrackers.
<br />
<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"Oh shit! Oh shit! No way! No way! No! No! No! There's an alien outside of my house! They have invaded Earth!"</span>
<br />
<br />Valaha ran outside, but not without a weapon. While running, he could not help but realize that he was like in a movie where there was always something to grab from the house when something eerie or bad occurred. In his case, the most typical of all, a baseball bat.
<br />
<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"Now you, alien guy! You may have invaded this planet, but don't you dare to think for one second that we'll surrender without a fight! You may take our lives, but you will never take... OUR FREEDOMMMMMMM!!!"</span>
<br />
<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"Oh dear, he has started quoting dialogues from 'Braveheart' again. Guys! Help!"</span>, the alien called for reinforcements.
<br />
<br />Valaha was clearly outnumbered and in just seconds, he was apprehended. While holding him, one of the aliens explained the situation.
<br />
<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"What situation?!!</span>", Valaha refused to listen.
<br />
<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"Your situation! Look around you! Look!"</span>
<br />
<br />Valaha reluctantly did what was told and... everything slowly came back to him.
<br />
<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"You see? You get it now? You're not on planet Earth anymore. You're on planet Tripaltakupisumaitadish. Your Earth was destroyed by a mega earthquake eight years ago. Only six people survived. We saved them. We saved you! But the other five have died. Three of natural causes, two...committed suicide. You are the last of your kind! And here, you are the alien!"</span>
<br />
<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"Then... what happened to me? Why didn't I remember this before?"</span>
<br />
<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"Well, when you first arrived on planet Tripala.. Tripaltalak... Tripapa... here, you were in denial. You didn't want to believe it, didn't want to accept the truth, so you kind of... developed your own 'kingdom' in your imagination. Occasionally, you'll come to realize the truth, like now, but then you'll get back on your imagination plane. But we'll know right away."</span>
<br />
<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"How...?"</span>
<br />
<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"You always quote dialogues from 'Braveheart' movie when you're...crazy."</span>
<br />
<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"I see...then what's with those firecrackers?"</span>
<br />
<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"Well, we noticed that humans loved firecrackers, so we developed ones of our own in order to make the survivors feel like home. But turns out, we love firecrackers more than you guys ever did."</span>
<br />
<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"What?"</span>
<br />
<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"They are so fun and addictive! We play with them every day and every year there will be about 630,000 aliens got hurt by firecracker explosions! We even tried to eat them... and we exploded. But since we possess high speed regeneration, it's okay. But we don't encourage humans to play with them! Leave the danger to us!"</span>
<br />
<br /><!-- nuffnang --><script type="text/javascript">nuffnang_bid = "56e3e4aeae06d628b37b8c5af186ef37";</script><script type="text/javascript" src="http://synad2.nuffnang.com.my/k.js"></script><!-- nuffnang--></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">"EVERYTHING HAS TWO DIFFERENT SIDES OF VIEW, EVEN THOUGH IN YOUR EYES YOU CAN ONLY SEE ONE, NOT TWO"</div>Ignizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06456041936439621425noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286373438919821975.post-9216304953526056512011-07-31T02:43:00.006+08:002011-07-31T22:38:26.526+08:00Jumper<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Mr. Krish</span><br />Okay Yusop, impress me. Tell me something about you that is different or unique from anyone else. Make me want to know more about you.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Yusop</span><br />Okay.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Mr. Krish</span><br />Go.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Yusop</span><br />One day, when I was walking home from a very tiring and boring meeting at my least favourite building, the Kuala Lumpur City Centre (KLCC), I saw... no, I met a... I mean I happened to encounter a... hm, I witnessed a tragedy. Well, it involved a man with the idea of committing suicide as a way to make the world a better place. He was standing right on top of the Monorail station, threatening people that he would jump.<br /><br />He cried, "The world now is a damned place! The world now is a damned place!". Then a man shouted from below, "What do you mean by that?". The guy replied, "The world used to be so peaceful and free of materialistic ideas! We used to have lives without any sort of unhappiness caused by money and stuff! But now everything is about money! Everything is about power!"<br /><br />"Then... um, what do you suggest in order to change this world?", he asked.<br /><br />"My death will remind every single one of you! That money can't buy happiness, and your power will never save a life! Prove me wrong, and I'll live! But if you can't, then I'll die on you people! All of you! My blood will spill on your hands and face!"<br /><br />"You want me to prove you wrong? Well, first of all, how do you think people will react and change by your death? I mean, who are you? Are you someone important? Are you a public figure or something?"<br /><br />"I am a nobody! I am a nobody! And that's why you people will regret this! Because a nobody like me is willing to sacrifice his life in order to put some sense into your polluted brain! I don't need to be a somebody in order to influence people! I myself am capable to change the world! With my death!"<br /><br />"That's true! But the problem is, if you're a nobody, then people will forget you! They will never want to remember you! It's true, Mr... what's your name, eh?"<br /><br />"My name is... Jumper! Just remember me by that name!"<br /><br />"Now that's a bit of a problem. First you're a nobody, now you're saying your name is just... Jumper? It's not that...catchy."<br /><br />"Shut the hell up! I don't need you to tell me what I should do or what kind of names I should have! I'm going to jump!"<br /><br />"Wait! Wait! Please wait!"<br /><br />"What?"<br /><br />"What if. What if you hang on to your life a little bit longer, try and be a more significant person, then you kill yourself."<br /><br />"Why would I want to do that?"<br /><br />"Trust me. The effect will be better!"<br /><br />"I know what you're trying to do! You're trying to persuade me not to jump, aren't you? Like that's gonna happen!"<br /><br />"Seriously! Ask yourself, what if Mahatma Gandhi or Abraham Lincoln killed himself in front of the civilians? Don't you think they were going to remember that? Yes?"<br /><br />"Who the hell are they?"<br /><br />"Owh, okay. Okay. You don't know them. What if... any important figure in our country kills him or herself in front you...don't you think you're going to remember that for the rest of your life? Look, my point is, people need to know you before they can listen to you."<br /><br />"I don't know you but I'm listening to every word you say. So your point is ridiculous."<br /><br />"Are you sure you're listening to me? Because if you are, then by now you should've walked down here and stopped thinking about committing suicide."<br /><br />"You're... you're confusing me! To hell with you!"<br /><br />And he jumped and died right away. End of story.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Mr. Krish</span><br />I... I don't get it. And I don't think I'm impressed... at all. What, are you saying that you are ACTUALLY the guy who tried to persuade the jumper?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Yusop</span><br />Nope. I'm the guy who witnessed the tragedy. Like I said.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Mr. Krish</span><br />Then... how should I be impressed by this...?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Yusop</span><br />Well, there were hundreds of people at the scene on that day. Most of them were taking pictures of... or recording the incident. Probably half of them were just standing. And half of that half were hoping that he would jump, while the other half wanted him to survive. A few of them called the police or the ambulance. Maybe three or four of them felt they shouldn't be there and left. And only two of them were making an effort to save the guy.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Mr. Krish</span><br />Two...? Did you include yourself in that number?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Yusop</span><br />Yes.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Mr. Krish</span><br />How? What did you do that made you think you were trying to save him?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Yusop</span><br />I provided the other guy with the dialogues.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Mr. Krish</span><br />What?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Yusop</span><br />The other guy was talking to his girlfriend, on the phone, during the time of the incident. They were having a fight. He didn't realize about the Jumper. When he shouted "What do you mean by that?", he was actually shouting at his girl, on the other side of the phone. But the Jumper heard it and thought the guy was talking to him. Hence, the conversation.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Mr. Krish</span><br />So... you happened to be next to the guy and provided him with... what to say?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Yusop</span><br />Yup. He wasn't really in the mood, you know. But since everyone started looking at him, he had to play along. So I helped. And that's the part where you should be impressed. Because I came up with those words spontaneously. They came out naturally. Even though they failed to save the guy, but that's not the point. My brain is full of words, that's why I am perfect for your magazine.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Mr. Krish</span><br />Wait... wait. Why didn't you say those words yourself?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Yusop</span><br />I was having a sore throat.<br /><!-- nuffnang --><script type="text/javascript">nuffnang_bid = "56e3e4aeae06d628b37b8c5af186ef37";</script><script type="text/javascript" src="http://synad2.nuffnang.com.my/k.js"></script><!-- nuffnang--></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">"EVERYTHING HAS TWO DIFFERENT SIDES OF VIEW, EVEN THOUGH IN YOUR EYES YOU CAN ONLY SEE ONE, NOT TWO"</div>Ignizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06456041936439621425noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286373438919821975.post-85777920327986768522011-06-21T23:52:00.004+08:002011-06-22T00:20:17.778+08:00Edisi Khas Bahasa Melayu 5: Hikayat Esemes<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Sepasang couple sedang ber-SMS pada waktu malam sebelum tidur. Jam menunjukkan 11.47.34, 11.47.35, 11.47.36......</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Juli</span><br />Nantuk... :(<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Rapit</span><br />Pi tido pi. :)<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Juli</span><br />Epok?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Rapit</span><br />Tammau. :P<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Juli</span><br />Nyanyi n dodoikan?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Rapit</span><br />Tanak. :D<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Juli</span><br />:'(<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Rapit</span><br />Olololoh... :D<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Juli</span><br />Nanite... *blowing kiss*<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Rapit</span><br />Alamak! Dah terbang pergi! :(<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Juli</span><br />Camne boleh terbang pergi? :(<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Rapit</span><br />Angin kuat sangat. Tak sempat tangkap. :(<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Juli</span><br />Pi carik balik! Kalau tak tammau kawan dah. :(<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Rapit</span><br />Okey! Jap! Jap! Jappppp!<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Selepas 3 minit...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Rapit</span><br />Dah dapat! Tersangkut kat satelit Astro atas bumbung rumah tadi. Heheh. :D<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Juli</span><br />:)<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Rapit</span><br />Betul dah nak tido?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Juli</span><br />Betul laa... dah nantuk giler. Medula oblongata I dah shut down dah ni. :(<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Rapit</span><br />Ooo... okey2. Hati2! ;P<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Juli</span><br />Nape?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Rapit</span><br />Ada hantuuuu...eeeeee.... :D<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Juli</span><br />Tak takut pun~<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Rapit</span><br />Nanti jangan peluk bantal tau. Takut terpeluk benda lain pulak..... heheheheh~ :D<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Juli</span><br />Bwek! Tak takut!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Rapit</span><br />Nanti jangan pandang bawah katil tau....<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Juli</span><br />Ish!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Rapit</span><br />Huhu. T_T<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Juli</span><br />Nape?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Rapit</span><br />I tertakutkan diri sendiri. T_T<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Juli</span><br />Hehehe. Padan muka! ;P<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Rapit</span><br />Wuwuwu. T_T<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Juli</span><br />Klakar la U ni... hee. :D<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Rapit</span><br />Heheh. U hepi tak skrg?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Juli</span><br />Hepi! Nape tanya?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Rapit</span><br />Hm.... :)<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Juli</span><br />Nape 'hm....'?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Rapit</span><br />Jom kita break up jom. :D<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Juli</span><br />Huh? What?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Rapit</span><br />I said, jom kita break up jom. :D<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Juli</span><br />Why??? :(<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Rapit</span><br />Ntah. Dah lama sangat kita kapel. Bosanlah pulak. Heheh.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Juli</span><br />U jangan main2!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Rapit</span><br />Mana ada I main2. I serius ni. Tengok I buat muka serius. Hm. >=[<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Juli</span><br />U serius ke ni? Sumpah? :(<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Rapit</span><br />Sumpah. Jom la break up. :)<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Juli</span><br />Habis tadi nape U mesra2? Nape buat I senyum? Nape buat I hepi??? :'(<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Rapit</span><br />Sebab I nak bagi mood U baik. Supaya U boleh terima keputusan ni dengan baik. I ada baca kat Internet. Kalau nak break up, make sure si dia tu dalam mood yang baik & waras. Hee. :D<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Juli</span><br />Palotak U!<br /><br /><!-- nuffnang --><script type="text/javascript">nuffnang_bid = "56e3e4aeae06d628b37b8c5af186ef37";</script><script type="text/javascript" src="http://synad2.nuffnang.com.my/k.js"></script><!-- nuffnang--></div><div class="blogger-post-footer">"EVERYTHING HAS TWO DIFFERENT SIDES OF VIEW, EVEN THOUGH IN YOUR EYES YOU CAN ONLY SEE ONE, NOT TWO"</div>Ignizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06456041936439621425noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286373438919821975.post-58229964081302100982011-06-19T19:08:00.007+08:002011-06-19T23:25:09.584+08:00Why He Hates His Parents<span style="font-weight: bold;">Deejay</span><br />Hello, hello, hello! 'Saywell.fm', who's there?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">John Smith</span><br />Hello, hi, I'm John Smith.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Deejay</span><br />Yes, John! How can I help you? Is there anything you wanna share with me and our dearest listeners tonight? Please do so.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">John Smith</span><br />Yes. I wanna tell you a story about my parents. And the reason why I hate them.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Deejay</span><br />Owh...you, you sure you wanna talk about it... on air?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">John Smith</span><br />Yes. And please just listen. Don't hang up. Please.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Deejay</span><br />Okay, as you wish.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">John Smith</span><br />Thank you. So here it goes...<br /><br />247 years ago, Ronald Smith and Elizabeth Smith got married. They lived in a farm. A year later they gave birth to a beautiful son. They named him John Smith. They were so happy together, and that boy was even happier. Perhaps not to some people, but living in a farm with a loving family was always his dream.<br /><br />Unfortunately, when the boy reached 15, he fell sick. He was dying. The father tried everything to cure him, but none worked. The mother prayed to God every night, hoping to find a cure, but her son would just get worse. They spent every penny and took him to all kinds of doctor, but all ended up in vain. After months of trying, they finally gave up.<br /><br />Then one day, a stranger visited their home. He came up with a proposal. Knowing that it would cure their son, both of them agreed with one condition - "Do not ever tell our son about what happened". He agreed.<br /><br />The next day, John Smith was healthier than ever. Not only did he survive the illness, he ran faster and jumped higher than anyone else. He was stronger. The family got on the horse again. They started over. This time aorund, they promised that nothing would take them apart, ever again.<br /><br />But eight years later, Ronald Smith died. Elizabeth followed him the next year. Those back-to-back tragedies broke John Smith's heart. He never had a family of his own because he loved his parents so much. But he could not fight fate. "Everyone dies," he said, "but now?? And why can't I die too???" It was then, he met the stranger who saved his life.<br /><br />"I did not save you back then. I only prolonged your stay here in this world. But the truth is, you died the day I came to you", the stranger said. "I bit you, remember? You're a vampire. You were no longer a human the day your parents and I made the agreement! Every day, in every single drink you had, your parents put in their own blood so you wouldn't starve. Every day they told you to work downstairs so you wouldn't burn under the sunlight. They didn't want you to have any friends so you wouldn't feel different. That's the truth! They made you a vampire!"<br /><br />...... ...... ......<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Deejay</span><br />So... uhmm... is that the reason why you hate your parents? Because they made you... a vampire?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">John Smith</span><br />No. That's not it.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Deejay</span><br />Huh?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">John Smith</span><br />I hate them because they lived like slaves to me. I hate them because they gave their blood to feed my appetite. I hate them because they spent all of their time protecting me. I hate them because they didn't wanna have another child because of me. I hate them because they sacrificed everything for me. I hate them because they made me live long enough to see them die. I hate them because they made me feel lonely for two centuries. I hate them because they made me miss them. I hate them because they made me love them this much. I hate them because they were the best.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Deejay</span><br />Awww... you just sounded like '10 Things I Hate About You'.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">John Smith</span><br />Shut up.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Deejay</span><br />You're a good vampire son. But...I have a question, though.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">John Smith</span><br />What?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Deejay</span><br />You said the reason why your parents didn't want you to stay under the sunlight was because... they didn't want you to burn?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">John Smith</span><br />Yeah. Vampires burn if exposed to sunlight.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Deejay</span><br />Don't vampires just... sparkle under the sunlight?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">John Smith</span><br />Do I sound like one of Stephenie Meyer's vampires to you?<br /><!-- nuffnang --><script type="text/javascript">nuffnang_bid = "56e3e4aeae06d628b37b8c5af186ef37";</script><script type="text/javascript" src="http://synad2.nuffnang.com.my/k.js"></script><!-- nuffnang--><div class="blogger-post-footer">"EVERYTHING HAS TWO DIFFERENT SIDES OF VIEW, EVEN THOUGH IN YOUR EYES YOU CAN ONLY SEE ONE, NOT TWO"</div>Ignizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06456041936439621425noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286373438919821975.post-37332483313826711992011-06-05T02:28:00.004+08:002011-06-05T14:12:08.368+08:00Edisi Khas Bahasa Melayu 4: Cinta Dan Kapal Hubungan<span style="font-weight: bold;">Hadi</span><br />Okey, sekarang lagi senang kalau kau berterus-terang. Apa yang buat kau rasa macam ni? Apa yang buat kau ragu-ragu, sampai menggelabah tak tentu pasal sedangkan bendanya belum pun berlaku. Cuba cerita. <span style="font-style: italic;">And </span>aku cakap, "Cuba cerita", bukan "Ceciter, ceciter". Sekali-sekala guna macam tu, tak apa. Banyak kali dah jadi <span style="font-style: italic;">annoying </span>nak mampus. Ha, cuba cerita.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Japa</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Well</span>, <span style="font-style: italic;">at first </span>macam biasalah, jatuh hati, berkenalan, rasa makin suka, rasa makin sayang, <span style="font-style: italic;">propose </span>jadi pakwe-makwe, <span style="font-style: italic;">then </span>kenal hati budi dengan lebih lanjut, hari-hari mesej, hari-hari <span style="font-style: italic;">call</span>, kalau sehari tak dengar khabar rasa semacam tak lengkap. Mula-mula semuanya rasa <span style="font-style: italic;">best</span>, bahagia tak ingat. Tapi lama-lama rasa lain sikit. Belum sampai tahap bosan, tapi... yelah, rasa macam tak kena.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Hadi</span><br />Okey, bila orang cakap hubungan dia macam ada yang tak kena, ada beberapa situasi yang selalunya berlaku tanpa disedari. SATU, diorang memang sebenarnya dah bosan, tapi masing-masing tak nak mengaku. DUA, dah wujud orang ketiga. TIGA, diorang baru perasan yang sebenarnya diorang tak serasi langsung. Sebelum ni semuanya <span style="font-style: italic;">either </span>nafsu atau <span style="font-style: italic;">just </span>buta. Asal ada rasa syok sikit, oh, itulah cinta! Podah. EMPAT, diorang dah jumpa orang baru. Belum sampai tahap jadi orang ketiga, belum cukup kenal untuk dijadikan skandal atau simpanan, tapi diorang terjumpa seseorang yang lebih menarik, sama ada dari segi fizikal mahupun personaliti. LIMA, diorang dah langgar <span style="font-style: italic;">barrier</span>.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Japa</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Barrier</span>? Maksud kau?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Hadi</span><br />Perbezaan usia, ataupun darjat, ataupun agama, ataupun bangsa, ataupun sifat, atau apa-apa yang pada mulanya diorang rasa macam, "Tak apa, <span style="font-style: italic;">we can find a way to deal with that later</span>", tapi lama-lama setelah cuba dan terus mencuba, diorang gagal dan akhirnya <span style="font-style: italic;">give up. That's the barrier I'm talking about. Is that your case?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Japa</span><br />Tak. Aku rasa kes aku lebih kepada nombor tiga atau empat. Atau kedua-duanya.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Hadi</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Look</span>, kalau bab keserasian, aku tak boleh komen. Sebab bukan aku yang tengah bercinta dan berdilema sekarang ni. Kau dengan <span style="font-style: italic;">partner </span>kau yang lagi tau tentang hati budi masing-masing. Kalau kau rasa masih ada peluang untuk korang menjadi lebih serasi, <span style="font-style: italic;">then by all means</span>, cuba. Kalau kau rasa korang dah habis cuba, <span style="font-style: italic;">then </span>lagi baik <span style="font-style: italic;">stop </span>awal-awal sebelum dua-dua sakit hati. Hm, kalau bab jumpa orang baru pulak, bergantung. Siapa yang jumpa ni? Kau ke dia?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Japa</span><br />Dua-dua. Aku baru terjumpa, yang dia pulak aku dah tau lama dah dia jumpa. Dalam rahsia. Tapi aku tau. Aku boleh hidu. Aku yakin dia dah lama jumpa orang lain. Mungkin dah sampai tahap dombor dua.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Hadi</span><br />Macam mana hubungan korang? Masih intim ke atau dah nampak macam hilang tumpuan? Kalau dah nampak macam hilang tumpuan, <span style="font-style: italic;">then </span>mungkin dah parah sampai tahap nombor satu. Tapi kau <span style="font-style: italic;">sure </span>korang bukan nombor tiga?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Japa</span><br />Tak, masa kitorang jatuh cinta dulu memang kitorang yakin dengan perasaan kitorang.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Hadi</span><br />Nenek aku pun pernah cakap macam tu masa dia suruh aku bawak dia naik basikal jalan ke rumah jiran jual kain. Tapi bila aku baru <span style="font-style: italic;">start </span>kayuh dah jatuh hempap kaki dia sampai patah, sampai sekarang dia ungkit. <span style="font-style: italic;">Anyway</span>, kalau masalah korang jumpa orang baru ni, <span style="font-style: italic;">then </span>aku nasihatkan<span style="font-style: italic;"> be honest to each other</span> lah. Kalau dah tak yakin dengan hubungan tu, <span style="font-style: italic;">let each other go</span>. <span style="font-style: italic;">So </span>kau boleh terus berkenalan dengan yang baru tu, <span style="font-style: italic;">and </span>dia boleh terus berkenalan dengan yang baru jugak.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Japa</span><br />Kalau kes nombor satu, macam mana pulak?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Hadi</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Obviously </span>kalau kes nombor satu korang dah tak boleh buat apa-apa. Ye, aku boleh cakap "Mungkin ada cara lain untuk korang kembalikan rasa sayang tu dan hilangkan rasa bosan", <span style="font-style: italic;">but unfortunately</span>, aku tak ada idea sekarang. Kau <span style="font-style: italic;">try </span>tanya orang lain. Kalau aku, baik jujur dengan diri sendiri.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Japa</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">So...I should let my love go?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Hadi</span><br />Ha, <span style="font-style: italic;">that depends on whether or not you really meant it when you said "my love". Did you mean it or did you simply use the term generally?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Japa</span><br />Aku pun tak <span style="font-style: italic;">sure</span>. Tapi macam tak sampai hati pulak nak <span style="font-style: italic;">break</span>. Dah lama kot.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Hadi</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Life will get better eventually</span>. Masa <span style="font-style: italic;">break </span>memang rasa semacam pahitnya. Tak kisahlah atas dasar kehendak diri sendiri atau tak. Tapi<span style="font-style: italic;"> as I always believe, sometimes in life, we have to let go certain things in order to gain new and better ones. </span>Aku bukan nak cakap yang kau patut <span style="font-style: italic;">let go now or in the future</span>. Kau boleh <span style="font-style: italic;">try hold it one more time</span>, kalau kau sanggup. Aku cuma nak bagitau yang bila kau dah cuba macam-macam and <span style="font-style: italic;">still failing</span>, <span style="font-style: italic;">then it's time to let go. Accept it. </span>Banyak benda kau boleh belajar dari situ.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Japa</span><br />Haih, pening kepala aku!<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Hadi</span><br />Memanglah pening. Kalau tak bukan masalah namanya. <span style="font-style: italic;">Anyway</span>, kau boleh dengar nasihat aku ni, atau kau boleh <span style="font-style: italic;">ignore</span>. Aku bukan <span style="font-style: italic;">expert </span>pun bab-bab macam ni.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Japa</span><br />Bukan senang nak <span style="font-style: italic;">start over</span>, <span style="font-style: italic;">dude</span>. Nanti nak kena mengurat balik... kenal hati budi masing-masing balik... kena <span style="font-style: italic;">propose </span>balik... adoi.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Hadi</span><br />Tapi lagi susah kalau hidup dalam keraguan, tak pasti hala tuju, hati tak senang, sana-sini curiga, tak percaya satu sama lain <span style="font-style: italic;">and stuff</span>, kan? <span style="font-style: italic;">Plus</span>, kau bukan dalam filem Hindustan semua masalah akan <span style="font-style: italic;">settle in the end and </span>ada <span style="font-style: italic;">happy ending</span>. Ni <span style="font-style: italic;">real life </span>ni. Ha, kau pilihlah sendiri yang mana kau lagi <span style="font-style: italic;">prefer</span>.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Japa</span><br />Kau rasa aku patut <span style="font-style: italic;">break </span>ke atau tengok dulu macam mana?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Hadi</span><br />Aku tak boleh bagitau. <span style="font-style: italic;">A good advice is always neutral</span>. <span style="font-style: italic;">I can give you options and opinions, like I just did</span>, <span style="font-style: italic;">but I must never tell you to pick</span> yang mana satu. Kalau aku buat macam tu, maknanya aku bukan tengah bagi nasihat, tapi menghasut.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Japa</span><br />Tapi aku rasa aku patut <span style="font-style: italic;">break</span>. Aku dah <span style="font-style: italic;">confirm </span>sangat dia dah ada orang lain.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Hadi</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">No comment </span>kat situ. Aku memang tak boleh cakap apa-apa. <span style="font-style: italic;">Dude</span>, aku cuma kenal kau <span style="font-style: italic;">online </span>kat Facebook, jumpa and <span style="font-style: italic;">hang out </span>sama-sama pun tak pernah. Aku <span style="font-style: italic;">fan </span>Liverpool, kau Manchester United. Silap hari bulan kita ni musuh. <span style="font-style: italic;">What makes you think</span> aku layak untuk bagitau kau <span style="font-style: italic;">exactly </span>apa yang patut kau buat?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Japa</span><br />Itulah sebabnya aku tanya kau, <span style="font-style: italic;">bro</span>. Sebab kau tak kenal aku <span style="font-style: italic;">and </span>Timah <span style="font-style: italic;">personally</span>. <span style="font-style: italic;">So </span>kau boleh bagi <span style="font-style: italic;">opinion </span>secara bebas, tak <span style="font-style: italic;">biased </span>kepada sesiapa. Kau tak kenal aku, <span style="font-style: italic;">and </span>kau <span style="font-style: italic;">definitely </span>tak kenal Timah.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Hadi</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"></span>Timah? Umm, <span style="font-style: italic;">dude</span>, nama sebenar kau apa eh? Jaafar ke Azfar?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Japa</span><br />Azfar Muthalib. Kenapa?<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Hadi</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I think you should break up with her.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Japa</span><br />Eh, kenapa tiba-tiba?<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Selepas 30 minit tanpa reply...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Japa</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">F**k you!</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">I repeat, f**k you</span>, Hadi! Macam manalah aku boleh tak perasan yang kau nilah si bangsat yang <span style="font-style: italic;">tackle</span> awek aku, kan? <span style="font-style: italic;">F**k you! </span><br /><br /><!-- nuffnang --><script type="text/javascript">nuffnang_bid = "56e3e4aeae06d628b37b8c5af186ef37";</script><script type="text/javascript" src="http://synad2.nuffnang.com.my/k.js"></script><!-- nuffnang--><div class="blogger-post-footer">"EVERYTHING HAS TWO DIFFERENT SIDES OF VIEW, EVEN THOUGH IN YOUR EYES YOU CAN ONLY SEE ONE, NOT TWO"</div>Ignizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06456041936439621425noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286373438919821975.post-11953590610672135342011-05-28T01:18:00.005+08:002011-05-28T02:38:44.750+08:00Malaysia And That Little Part Of Us<span style="font-weight: bold;">1. The Escalator</span><br /><br />A Malay woman was walking around in a shopping complex, having her eyes on stuff from one shop to another, with her 7-year-old son. Then she headed towards an escalator while the son was happily running here and there. She called him, "Hey, come here!" He rushed towards his mother.<br /><br />By fate, his right hand was stuck in the moving escalator, and crushed instantly. He screamed painfully while the mother cried for help from anyone around. Everyone panicked. The escalator was still moving and pancaking the small hand of that boy. Nobody seemed to know what to do. Then a Chinese guy came with one of the guards. The guard put a key in and the escalator stopped.<br /><br />One quick call from the Chinese man (who made the right move - instead of standing around and panicking) and the Malay boy survived.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">2. The Scissors</span><br /><br />A Malay man was riding a motorcycle when his 60-year-old mother who was sitting on the back tripped and fell. They both faced the hard ground and suffered the impact. But his mother suffered more. As her <span style="font-style: italic;">kain batik</span> got entangled with the wheel, she broke her leg while falling. It could get worse as the broken leg was right beneath the red hot exhaust.<br /><br />But it was not meant to be that bad as an Indian man from the nearby magazine shop came to the rescue. He brought along a pair of scissors and immediately cut the entangled cloth before it brought more harm. She survived.<br /><br />And that old woman is now healthily growing old and walking from house to house, visiting the neighbours and still talking about the man who saved her.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">3. The Gangsters</span><br /><br />A 13-year-old Chinese student was studying in a local school. As a normal teenager, he played and messed around. People would probably call him mischievous or even more than that, but who in that kind of age is not?<br /><br />One day, several men with tattoos all over their body came and waited in front of the school gate. They were waiting for the kid, furiously. Something must have happened. The kid ran towards a Malay teacher and asked for help. He was scared to death and did not want to go back.<br /><br />The teacher then brought him face-to-face with the men at the gate and said, "This is a school, and this is my student. Here, he is my responsibilty and I'll watch him walk towards his home, safely. Don't touch him." And the kid reached his home safely.<br /><br />-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br /><br />Well I heard these stories secondhand. I'm not sure if they really happened as I wasn't there to witness them. But to me, these stories are amazing and I feel obliged to share them. And I know for sure, there is more out there.<br /><br />Racism has been a pain in the ass these days. We suffer from hatred because of petty reasons and stuff that is beyond our understanding. We talk and fight against each other. That is a fact. But, I am more than willing to bet, that despite everything that has happened, there will be one or two of us, if not all, who will step up and save our friends and even strangers from a different ethnic when it matters most. Because I know deep in our heart, we care. And that is all that matters. That little part of us.<br /><!-- nuffnang --><script type="text/javascript">nuffnang_bid = "56e3e4aeae06d628b37b8c5af186ef37";</script><script type="text/javascript" src="http://synad2.nuffnang.com.my/k.js"></script><!-- nuffnang--><div class="blogger-post-footer">"EVERYTHING HAS TWO DIFFERENT SIDES OF VIEW, EVEN THOUGH IN YOUR EYES YOU CAN ONLY SEE ONE, NOT TWO"</div>Ignizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06456041936439621425noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286373438919821975.post-90069219661515918642011-05-12T10:42:00.000+08:002011-05-14T04:43:40.749+08:00That's Not How You Treat A LadyWhen I wrote <a href="http://youcannotreadthis.blogspot.com/2010/08/price-woman-should-never-pay.html">'The Price A Woman Should Never Pay'</a>, I thought those responsible for the incident were the worst people I could possibly imagine. But I was wrong.<br /><br />Today, I learned that humans will never fail to disgust me in every way that is possible. They will succeed in portraying the darkest part of their heart and the rest of us will not be able to believe just how good they, or maybe I should say 'we', are at it.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQUd79nfUqYtKTuqefHkC-qQCHmjMfyhYS7e162B1woXEOgdTtjxmXrLdauN-e-3D5821MC3igIoYIk3KsLj2vVkhKvZYYmxbWg82mqqNk43Wr1gy0BhggfyaSOVi7rDIrocUq51hUVGU3/s1600/5554.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 358px; height: 474px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQUd79nfUqYtKTuqefHkC-qQCHmjMfyhYS7e162B1woXEOgdTtjxmXrLdauN-e-3D5821MC3igIoYIk3KsLj2vVkhKvZYYmxbWg82mqqNk43Wr1gy0BhggfyaSOVi7rDIrocUq51hUVGU3/s400/5554.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5605658865412921346" border="0" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU9HmHVe9kU_p0c0IQdBLEkLv2k5hy94badf0GrCI4YqusAxeT27M1U-brAp7d8S9V8L2A4gI2ZDkFmAw5L6l3dp6RfPevSjU14lvzWb7Ejdn-gPjaXdahQOCoYmU6lNFy56-7IS5gUYtI/s1600/5553.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 353px; height: 466px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU9HmHVe9kU_p0c0IQdBLEkLv2k5hy94badf0GrCI4YqusAxeT27M1U-brAp7d8S9V8L2A4gI2ZDkFmAw5L6l3dp6RfPevSjU14lvzWb7Ejdn-gPjaXdahQOCoYmU6lNFy56-7IS5gUYtI/s400/5553.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5605658863605093410" border="0" /></a><br />These women are the victims of extreme selfishness, ridiculous sense of humanity, and allow me to say it, disgustingly lack of love and appreciation that if I had to describe these tragedies and the people who were behind them, I'd proudly say, "Motherf**kers."<br /><br />Who the hell gives you and me the right to throw acid on anybody?<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Credits to my friend Baizulikha for posting this on Facebook, Jim Verhulst and Emilio Morenatti for publishing this story on... <a href="http://sharerimg.com/p/55689.html">here</a>.</span><br /><br /><!-- nuffnang --><script type="text/javascript">nuffnang_bid = "56e3e4aeae06d628b37b8c5af186ef37";</script><script type="text/javascript" src="http://synad2.nuffnang.com.my/k.js"></script><!-- nuffnang--><div class="blogger-post-footer">"EVERYTHING HAS TWO DIFFERENT SIDES OF VIEW, EVEN THOUGH IN YOUR EYES YOU CAN ONLY SEE ONE, NOT TWO"</div>Ignizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06456041936439621425noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286373438919821975.post-67373195425830273032011-04-29T00:20:00.005+08:002011-04-29T19:23:41.919+08:00Hate This & I'll Love You<div style="text-align: center;">"Whoa! You just stole my meal! Now I'm going to make you pay for it!"<br />"No, I'm not gonna! I'm not gonna!"<br />"Well, I knew you were going to say that. So I already paid it using your card."<br />"Aww...wait, no! Wow, that was harsh!"<br />"You well deserved it! Ha! Ha!"<br /></div><br />The first time she did it, it was adorable. The second time she did it, it was cute. The third time she did it, I smiled. The fourth, fifth and probably sixth, or was it seventh? Well, I still didn't mind. She was lovely, my own sun that shone on me, warm and welcoming, and my life was at its best! She completed me.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">"You know, instead of making you pay for meals using your very own card, oh sorry! Cardsss.."<br />"I get your point."<br />"...I think I should use them on something else. Maybe some shoes? Bags? Huh?"<br />"You know, when you speak that way with that smile and gesture, you really look like a witch with breast cancer."<br />"Breast cancer has got nothing to do with the way I smile!"<br />"Well, I did mention 'gesture'..."<br /></div><br />There was one moment of hesitation in my years with her, when she asked me to take her home after work and I refused due to a possible super heavy traffic in her area. She didn't say anything. An hour later she called me, crying, saying, "Next time you picked me up whenever I asked you to! I almost killed a man!"<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">"What happened?!!"<br />"He tried to snatch and grab me."<br />"Huh?"<br />"He tried to snatch and grab me! What are you? Deaf?"<br />"I thought you said... you almost killed a man...?"<br />"Well he tried and failed! It was raining, he slipped right before he reached me. So I hit him instead, before he could get me."<br />"Well, are you sure he had that intention to... snatch and grab...you?"<br />"That's what I meant by "I almost killed a man!". I was scared! You didn't want to pick me up! So I panicked every time I saw a man! What do you expect?"<br /></div><br />On my 25th birthday, she bought me a cake. There was a face on it, 'me with a baby smile' she said. She bought me no present because, she told me, "A babbbbyyy doesshhhhnnn't know anythiiiiingggg about a presheeennntt!", while pinching on my both cheeks.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">"I hate this song."<br />"What song?"<br />"'Hate This & I'll Love You'"<br />"Then don't listen to it."<br />"But I want to listen to it!"<br />"Then listen to it."<br />"But I hate the feeling this song represents!"<br />"Is it possible that if you hate this song, you'll love the feeling it represents?"<br />"It could be."<br />"Then do it."<br />"Okay!"<br /></div><br />She never did. She kept listening to the song and got very grouchy afterwards. It would be me, only me, who was able to put those witch-like smiles back on her face. It was supposed to be that way.<br /><br />But it wasn't. Because I never let her keep my cards. I never said anything about the way she smiled. I never thought about taking her home from work, ever. I never picked up the phone when she called. I never wanted the cake because I threw it away. I never listened to her complaints about the song. I never cared. And for all the possibilities that could have happened if I was different, I wish now I could have cared.<br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">This story has got nothing to do with anybody. It's 100% fictional.</span><br /><!-- nuffnang --><script type="text/javascript">nuffnang_bid = "56e3e4aeae06d628b37b8c5af186ef37";</script><script type="text/javascript" src="http://synad2.nuffnang.com.my/k.js"></script><!-- nuffnang--><div class="blogger-post-footer">"EVERYTHING HAS TWO DIFFERENT SIDES OF VIEW, EVEN THOUGH IN YOUR EYES YOU CAN ONLY SEE ONE, NOT TWO"</div>Ignizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06456041936439621425noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286373438919821975.post-39365796382143164372011-04-14T00:47:00.006+08:002011-04-14T13:16:22.722+08:00"Your Daddy's Cool...!""I hate him! He always says that I can't have it because it's not for me. Says that a good kid should never play with that kind of things! But what does he know? I'm the kid, not him!"<br /><br />Rishi shouted out what he had in mind. He hated his dad for not buying him the scooter he wanted. It was blue in colour, with some black stripes on it, a combination that had been his favourite since he watched the new 'Ultraman' series. "I love that scooter! It's got my favourite colours on it! It is literally Ultraman Agul's scooter!"<br /><br />"But maybe your dad was right. You see at school, bad kids always ride on scooters to chase and bully other kids. Maybe it is true that a good kid should never ride a scooter...", his friend Jaban defended his bestfriend's dad. He had always admired Rishi's father, especially since the day he scolded those bad kids who had been making fun of him. They used to call him 'Jamban'. Not anymore.<br /><br />"Ahh! The truth is, he doesn't have the money to buy one for me! What a lame dad! Everyone's daddy is like.. rich or something. You see Daud's dad? Yesterday he bought him another Barbue doll that cost him about 27 hundreds <span style="font-style: italic;">ringgit</span>!"<br /><br />"You... want your dad to buy you a Barbue doll? That's silly...", Jaban responded sceptically.<br /><br />"No! What I'm trying to say is, his dad got him a very expensive toy! Just like that!" Rishi argued.<br /><br />"Nah, Daud's lying. There's no way that Barbue doll cost 27 hundreds <span style="font-style: italic;">ringgit</span>! With that amount, you can buy... eleven cars!", he showed all of his fingers from both hands excitedly.<br /><br />The next morning, Rishi's dad entered his bedroom. He woke his son up and brought him outside. Right when he set his eyes on the thing in front of him, a series of happy-like adrenaline rush took over Rishi's body. In great excitement he cried, "Whoa! A mountain bike! A mountain bike! Thank you, daddy! Whoa! Whoa!"<br /><br />While watching his son trying to get on the bicycle, he said, "Now that's what a 7-year-old kid should ride. Not some stupid-looking scooters. Next time when those boys try to tease you again, you outrun them with the speed of light! You have bigger wheels! Come on!"<br /><br />Rishi had not learned how to ride a bicycle, yet. So he pulled his new 'toy' by his side and went straight to Jaban's home as quickly as possible.<br /><br />"Dude, your daddy's cool...!", Jaban was impressed, again.<br /><br /><!-- nuffnang --><script type="text/javascript">nuffnang_bid = "56e3e4aeae06d628b37b8c5af186ef37";</script><script type="text/javascript" src="http://synad2.nuffnang.com.my/k.js"></script><!-- nuffnang--><div class="blogger-post-footer">"EVERYTHING HAS TWO DIFFERENT SIDES OF VIEW, EVEN THOUGH IN YOUR EYES YOU CAN ONLY SEE ONE, NOT TWO"</div>Ignizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06456041936439621425noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286373438919821975.post-23707037898395187502011-04-11T14:29:00.005+08:002011-04-11T18:16:46.950+08:00A New Place To Learn English<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEvdj2cxVUn55WA1l7lYrWPpMS6a5gU4lHCPT44H_IPL0bdQ0kR5oMlZOKP8UdbTyzEQ3fZg86licegCf9G_0rFYs9aurOyKTDwFOTd8qiBihn8ecyYS8zTFHly9Ou9ib78eibxJjHCapu/s1600/Whiteboard-ed.png"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 216px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEvdj2cxVUn55WA1l7lYrWPpMS6a5gU4lHCPT44H_IPL0bdQ0kR5oMlZOKP8UdbTyzEQ3fZg86licegCf9G_0rFYs9aurOyKTDwFOTd8qiBihn8ecyYS8zTFHly9Ou9ib78eibxJjHCapu/s400/Whiteboard-ed.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594214346330169730" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="http://whiteboard-ed.blogspot.com/">Let's Get Whiteboard-ed</a><br /><br /></div>Straight to the point, me and my friend Syafiq (again) are co-hosting a new blog called 'Let's Get Whiteboard-ed'. The main purpose of this blog is to make it a community where anybody who loves English can share what he or she knows or wants to know about the language.<br /><br />But the best part is, when we said 'share', we literally meant it. If you have ideas about teaching methods, learning skills, study tips, classroom experience or anything related to English education, we encourage you to write it down in a form of a writing and send it to us! If it's good, we'll publish it on the blog with your name as the author.<br /><br />Some people complain about their level of English proficiency and how to improve it. Well now we have one of many solutions - start reading and writing!<br /><br />Other than that, 'Let's Get Whiteboard-ed' will also be a place where you get to know about news and what's going on with our country's English teaching and learning. There you'll find links that direct you to a lot of important websites, important as in for; research papers, English games, literatures, dictionaries etc. I'm sure they'll be good for your classrooms (if you're a teacher) and studies (if you're still studying).<br /><br />You can check how to write to us (really simple steps) on 'How You Can Contribute' on our page.<br /><br />Anyway, do have a look and think about it, okay? We wish you all the best and we surely hope this new site can be of help.<br /><!-- nuffnang --><script type="text/javascript">nuffnang_bid = "56e3e4aeae06d628b37b8c5af186ef37";</script><script type="text/javascript" src="http://synad2.nuffnang.com.my/k.js"></script><!-- nuffnang--><div class="blogger-post-footer">"EVERYTHING HAS TWO DIFFERENT SIDES OF VIEW, EVEN THOUGH IN YOUR EYES YOU CAN ONLY SEE ONE, NOT TWO"</div>Ignizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06456041936439621425noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286373438919821975.post-87491727839980071162011-03-27T02:44:00.003+08:002011-03-27T03:01:05.083+08:00TRAPPED IN PERSONLook into your eyes and wonder<br />a few years have gone away<br />you’ve washed away the fears<br />but they come back<br />hands have bled and hurt<br />and your mind has self-expressed<br />it has self-told<br />that everything should stop when things’ve gone wrong<br />or continue despite the truth<br />they will tell you’re wrong<br />or admit you’re not when it’s wrong<br />it’ll become a stage of self-lying<br />you’ll believe anything that is there<br />because you’re self-lying<br />that you’re not self-trapped<div class="blogger-post-footer">"EVERYTHING HAS TWO DIFFERENT SIDES OF VIEW, EVEN THOUGH IN YOUR EYES YOU CAN ONLY SEE ONE, NOT TWO"</div>Ignizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06456041936439621425noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286373438919821975.post-72423304861262376222011-03-14T14:31:00.002+08:002011-03-14T14:42:10.094+08:00A Tale Of A Fire AccidentIt was Ilham's voice that woke me up. In actuality, I was not really sure if it was him who called me, but I knew well enough that he was the only one who would ever call me by that name. "Wake up, Jamu! Wake up! You need to get out of here!"<br /><br />I could not see a thing as the smoke was getting into my eyes. It was hot, too. But Ilham kept leading me towards the exit. "Here! I know you can't see anything, so listen to my voice, okay?"<br /><br />Our office was on fire. When we heard the explosion, everyone's face turned white. They panicked. "Fire! This room is on fire! Get out of here!" <br /><br />We were all running when a fat young man accidentally hit me with his elbow and I fell down on the floor. Then the same guy banged the door so hard that the file cabinet got opened and all those thick hardcovers dropped right on my head. I lost my consciousness. But seconds before I blacked out, I noticed the tables, chairs and walls were burning fiercely, and I was the only one left. <br /><br />"Wake up, Jamu! Wake up! You need to get out of here!" Ilham came back to save me. I followed his voice and slowly walked out of the room. My hands got burned pretty bad while trying to protect myself from the burning walls. I wondered how Ilham's hands were.<br /> <br />Outside, I saw them crying. Either they were shocked or happy to be alive, I could not tell. And I could not find Ilham. I was sure he was right in front of me. I searched for him. Then one of my colleagues said, "Jamil! Oh, I'm glad you made it. Thank God! It was close! When the kitchen exploded, it killed Ilham...and you were just right next to him. But I'm glad you're here."<br /><br />On that second, I remembered witnessing the fire eating my brother alive. He was screaming for help, but I ignored him. I panicked and I ran as fast as I could. I did not even look back. Then that fat guy hit me.<div class="blogger-post-footer">"EVERYTHING HAS TWO DIFFERENT SIDES OF VIEW, EVEN THOUGH IN YOUR EYES YOU CAN ONLY SEE ONE, NOT TWO"</div>Ignizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06456041936439621425noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286373438919821975.post-42729352984827557382011-03-01T02:14:00.006+08:002011-03-07T21:39:48.563+08:00Dramatic DurianDid I tell you that I am a movie goer? That I love watching movies a lot? Well, if I did, that's good. If I didn't, well... guys, I am movie goer. I love watching movies, especially back-to-back, and nothing excites me more than watching movies at the cinema.<br /><br />Anyway, me and my friend <a href="http://www.shrineofserenity.blogspot.com/">Syafiq</a> are sharing similar interest in this activity and somehow one day we decided to create a site that talks about movies all the time. 100% movie-related. Local and international. Guess what? We did it. There are reviews, featured articles and news over there. Do have a look, please.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXTZDtizEUIm6k54C1r96GlQTpSP013-dfCyOVNuLYVB0I0gva9WNWOArOuinIsXoVYqADCRXP5tAaMispVaBP9s_a3zXVArpWlj-02XhInfhYkM6VHqQDoseRN03gQzYd0qADVlDLWIYq/s1600/a.png"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 174px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXTZDtizEUIm6k54C1r96GlQTpSP013-dfCyOVNuLYVB0I0gva9WNWOArOuinIsXoVYqADCRXP5tAaMispVaBP9s_a3zXVArpWlj-02XhInfhYkM6VHqQDoseRN03gQzYd0qADVlDLWIYq/s320/a.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578810140779469666" border="0" /></a><a href="http://www.dramaticdurian.com/">www.dramaticdurian.com</a><br /><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgedNJdH0jgS5BluwK_BR0GqZgy7URrlScDUDqjALN6d24gFh02MNFkFGGGlZH_GrXGwcolWzxPImMUGJ0XZ_Ye5oI-yir4dlNWGUZfPkrjLFG8xw3h1tQnpIeccVSlmIOcEt6WSrMmW-c8/s1600/ikon3.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 107px; height: 189px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgedNJdH0jgS5BluwK_BR0GqZgy7URrlScDUDqjALN6d24gFh02MNFkFGGGlZH_GrXGwcolWzxPImMUGJ0XZ_Ye5oI-yir4dlNWGUZfPkrjLFG8xw3h1tQnpIeccVSlmIOcEt6WSrMmW-c8/s320/ikon3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5578809329275892706" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">And this guy's name is DD. Hoho.<br /></span><!-- nuffnang --></div><script type="text/javascript">nuffnang_bid = "56e3e4aeae06d628b37b8c5af186ef37";</script><script type="text/javascript" src="http://synad2.nuffnang.com.my/k.js"></script><!-- nuffnang--><div class="blogger-post-footer">"EVERYTHING HAS TWO DIFFERENT SIDES OF VIEW, EVEN THOUGH IN YOUR EYES YOU CAN ONLY SEE ONE, NOT TWO"</div>Ignizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06456041936439621425noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286373438919821975.post-49511403359341120552011-02-20T23:58:00.004+08:002011-02-21T01:19:12.466+08:00How Do You Know When You Are Going To Feel Sick?Not feeling well is a common phenomenon for humans. It's like when you forgot to submit your assignment during the previous class. It's like when you forgot to wish a friend 'Happy Birthday'. It's like when you forgot to lock the door while taking a poop. It happens all the time. But also, there were times when we failed to realize, or 'forgot' that we were not feeling well at a certain moment, until our very own body laid down on bed, weak and unable to move, like a housefly under a flyswatter. And then we regretted it.<br /><br />So how do we know when to know that we are going to feel sick, beforehand? Aha! Here I provide some unconventional clues. If you are experiencing any of these situations listed below, do make sure you stop doing whatever you're doing right away, eat healthy food and take a good rest. Better safe than sorry.<br /><br />1. When your SMSes are full of vowels, like "I see..", "Ooowh..", "Eee...", "Blueeek", "Uuum..", "Aaa...", "Huhuhu..", "Wuwuwu.." and other made up sounds.<br /><br />2. When you say "Pizza!" while pointing at a glass of water on the mini table and you repeat it again when your mother says, "What?".<br /><br />3. When you start running unconsciously from the bedroom towards the living room while being chased by your mother and brothers/sisters.<br /><br />4. When you start getting worried about the size of the cupboard that looks bigger than the door and wondering how it got into the house in the first place.<br /><br />5. When you can't finish your favourite food and let your brother/sister have it happily.<br /><br />6. When you scream in fright while watching a comedy.<br /><br />7. When you don't feel bad for not going to work or class.<br /><br />8. When you feel angry over the guy who invented ice cream.<br /><br />9. When you can read a doctor's handwriting.<br /><br />10. When your friend says "Justin Bieber is the best singer in the world!" and you don't say a word to disagree.<br /><br />11. When you say "Justin Bieber is the best singer in the world!".<br /><br />12. When you still say "Justin Bieber is the best singer in the world!" even after your friend had corrected you.<br /><br />13. When your girlfriend/boyfriend wants to watch 'Twilight' instead of any other movies and you don't do a thing to stop her/him.<br /><br />14. When you want to watch 'Twilight' instead of any other movies.<br /><br />15. When you still want to watch 'Twilight' instead of any other movies even after your friend had stopped you.<br /><br />16. When (sigh) your body temperature is not 37 degrees Celsius and you feel comfortable sitting in a car at 12 at noon without switching on the air conditioner.<br /><br />17. When every song you sing turns into a sad song and every movie you watch turns into a horror movie.<br /><br />18. When you wipe the spilled vanilla shake on the floor using your cat instead of any proper cleaning equipment while thinking "Never mind. It will just lick itself back and now I'm giving its fur a flavour."<br /><br />19. When you don't like Muse.<br /><br />20. When you don't support Manchester United.<br /><!-- nuffnang --><script type="text/javascript">nuffnang_bid = "56e3e4aeae06d628b37b8c5af186ef37";</script><script type="text/javascript" src="http://synad2.nuffnang.com.my/k.js"></script><!-- nuffnang--><div class="blogger-post-footer">"EVERYTHING HAS TWO DIFFERENT SIDES OF VIEW, EVEN THOUGH IN YOUR EYES YOU CAN ONLY SEE ONE, NOT TWO"</div>Ignizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06456041936439621425noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5286373438919821975.post-59322006075923223432011-02-13T01:44:00.004+08:002011-02-13T02:46:27.555+08:00The Ronaldinho-and-William Hung-looking Lady GhostSo this Debol guy went out one night and saw something, or someone he didn't really want to see.<br /><br />It all started 2 minutes back when he and his roommate talked about a 'ghost' story. It was 12.12 a.m. and Buyut was telling Debol about how he heard that the campus was 'haunted' by a 'lady'. Debol was that kind of guy who would get his heart chicken-ed by just hearing words like 'ghost', 'spirit', 'haunt', 'graveyard' and 'Miss Zubaidah'.<br /><br />Buyut was like, "I heard it from a guard who heard it from another guard that years ago there was this ugly 40-year-old lady who worked at the cafeteria downstair. Her face was badly injured in an accident she had when she was a kid. Because of that, she wasn't really friendly, didn't like to talk much and she spent most of her times cleaning the floors and watching 'Rosalinda' at home. I mean, you can imagine how an ugly woman feels watching that telenovela, right? Jealousy and rage were all over her, you get me?"<br /><br />"How did she look like, really? I get that she was ugly, but how ugly?", Debol was curious.<br /><br />"She was...Ronaldinho-ish. And a little bit of William Hung...as a woman...", Buyut answered. "Eww!", Debol reacted in disgust before his friend added, "...and she slipped in one of those toilets we had at the cafe, with her face hitting right into the nasty bowl. Unfortunately, somebody forgot to flush it before."<br /><br />Debol felt like throwing up so he went outside. He threw up and then he threw up again. He was quite good at using his imagination, so what his friend had told him was repeatedly playing on his mind with 'styles' of how he had imagined earlier - Ronaldinho and William Hung combined, with some additional features from the toilet bowl.<br /><br />Then he saw something...or someone. A woman was standing in front of him with strong eyes and a smirk that reminded him of a Brazillian footballer and an accidental American Idol superstar, saying, "I just wiped that floor 30 minutes ago and now you have made me feel like wiping it again. How amusinggggg!"<br /><br />Debol fainted instantenously.<br /><br />That was how he missed Miss Zubaidah's lectures for six days straight and got barred. His friend Buyut didn't get the chance to finish the story and tell him that the woman survived the 'horrible' toilet accident and was still working at the cafeteria downstair.<br /><!-- nuffnang --><script type="text/javascript">nuffnang_bid = "56e3e4aeae06d628b37b8c5af186ef37";</script><script type="text/javascript" src="http://synad2.nuffnang.com.my/k.js"></script><!-- nuffnang--><div class="blogger-post-footer">"EVERYTHING HAS TWO DIFFERENT SIDES OF VIEW, EVEN THOUGH IN YOUR EYES YOU CAN ONLY SEE ONE, NOT TWO"</div>Ignizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06456041936439621425noreply@blogger.com3