Life by the beach

This is a special post. I wanted to dedicate it to my brother and his wife, especially his wife, who went through the experience of giving birth to a premature baby. She commented, "now she knew how it feels... how a mother risk her own life to give birth to another..." Happy birthday to the newborn baby, may you be blessed with all the health and wealth that the world has to offer, may you always be under Allah's watch and guidance.

Just a few days back, on the 29th October to be exact, 17 years ago, a baby girl was born. I was not there at the hospital when she inhaled her first breath of fresh air. I remembered calling my dad at the hospital about the good news. I remembered precisely, when I ran down the old UBD staircase crying...and the rest is her story. Happy birthday dear sis. She might not read this post and she might not even be aware of this post's existence.

Happy birthday to all the little sisters out there. Remember the sacrifices our parents, of our mother's especially... remember the day when they fought between life and death, for us! And to everyone else, be appreciative of the fact. Some mothers exchanged their life for their babies'. There were times when you feel stressed out and wanted to stay mad with your mother... well, stop, take a deep breath and think. There are always valid reasons for their action... and if not, it is out of love and nothing less. Now that we have grown up, it is finally our turn to care for them. To all my friends and readers out there, may you be blessed with the strength, patience and love to accompany you every second. It looked easier when our mom did the job, right?

Oh by the way, all the money in the world cannot be exchanged for this love. Hahaha, sorry I am a bit emotional. Maybe I am just tired. bla bla bla... I dont feel like writing anyway...

I came home about 8.30pm. Back from work, bank, airport and hospital. Dad was busy organizing his logbook and left several tasks for me to take care for during his Hajj leave. I requested for a to-do-list. He is a pensioner but he just seemed to be working most of the time...you know, just those things that they usually do relating to plants, fruits and related activities. Luckily we have a brother who have the same hobby! Mom is busy packing and repacking their luggage (for all three of them). I haven't even seen my brother packing... and their flight will be this coming Tuesday!

I was on my way to work today, as usual. I was not feeling so good and I have a cold. With dry and sore throat, I was coughing occasionally. I had a dreamless sleep (as usual) but it was mostly sleep between coughs. So yeah, I was not feeling so well but I am not complaining. It is just one of those sick days... compared to all those other days I am healthy and not so sick that I have to stay in bed, Alhamdulillah. I am not complaining.

So I decided to drop by the hospital to get some medication, if not to eradicate, just strong enough to keep the cold virus under control. With a slight temperature, I was also given a medical certificate. So, alone at my flat, in the midst of the noise and traffic of bustling litle BSB... I am giving myself a break, well, a short pause. I still have unfinished business at work that I have to attend to before my actual leave.

Oh by the way, have I told you that I will be on a slightly long leave, just a few days short of a month? Just in less than two weeks (in about 10 days), I will give myself a break. InsyaAllah, my parents will be going on Hajj and I will temporarily take over the household business. It will be my chance to rest. I promised myself that I will not be doing any office work (or even thinking about it) and just enjoy the peace and quiet of life. Those of you who know me and those of you that I know, we have the same problem of drawing that line between life and work. Both had been seamlessly sewn that made it difficult to distinguish where one begins and the other ends.

I have dedicated 13 years of my life to work. 6 years in school and now coming to 7 years in the office. And yeah, just to kill your curiosity, I started work at 25. Along that course of life, I had the chance to come across individuals with colorful characters. I have known love and all the intricacies 'attached' to it. I have met hate after uncovering what lies beneath it. Wearing a calm front did not actually tranquilize the upcoming waves that threaten to break the shores. So far, I am saved from the Tsunami, Alhamdulillah.

So, yes I am looking forward to my leave... It is my chance to pull the handbrake at everything. Its time to recuperate.

Instruction: Write about the above topic in 120 words.
The following is a translation from a Primary four student's Bahasa Melayu exercise on the above topic.

My favorite teacher is CakguCikgu Ramlah (not her real name). She is about 20 30 50 years old. She is a very good teacher. She is sometimes strict but she is good to you if you listen to her. She likes to eat rice, mee goreng, chicken, cakes and fruits. She likes to drink coffee, tea, Pepsi, Coca-Cola, 7UP, Mirinda, Pepsi Twist, Soya Bean, orange juice, apple juice, watermelon juice, grape juice, pineapple juice, papaya juice and guava juice. I like to play

(at this point, the student paused and stared at the paper. Should he continue writing about this teacher he sees everyday in class and yet never knew much about? First of all, is this an exam topic?)

She likes to eat apple, pears, pineapple, guava, lemon, melon, oranges, grapes, durians, langsat, rambutans, dragon fruit, kembayau, mangosteen, mangoes, lychee, peach, banana, papaya, pumpkin, cucumber, berries, nuts, chillies, tomatoes, ....the list went on, until the 120th word is reached!

I made up the last paragraph anyway. I am not a Language teacher but I had a chance to sit in a class today. I sat at the back and imagined myself teaching a group of young students (which should be fun). Then came this vision of me trying to keep my room in order while my nephew and niece ran around messing with my toilet paper, scribbled drawings on the floor and spilled water color on the painting writing table. Hmm... nope, two is enough... I do not think I can handle teaching 20 kids running about and talking simultaneously, excited about doing their science activities. Imagine the bigger mess!

You either love it or hate it.
Or maybe its a love-hate relationship.

Its funny how it can be accepted and tolerated easily in some areas while it is banned in some and to an extreme... some describe it as "terrible, rotten-smelling fruit". Yes, you know who I am talking about. The king of all fruits. I have been transporting durians between home and work. I survived the dizzying pungent smell but nothing rotten about it. I could not say that I love it as I have to bear with it during my more than half an hour drive to work.

"One of these days, I will give you a durian or two!" I said to a friend. You could interpret this as a threatening statement right? hahaha imagine using the fruit as a weapon... my brother placed a small durian (a very small one) on a container in our storeroom. I accidentally shoved the container too hard that the durian fell on my foot!

One of my friends recently celebrated her birthday. A close friend. Umm... one of our best friends. At that time, I was still raking my brain trying to come up with a present. In the end, I stick a ribbon to several durians and delivered it to her home... it was her birthday gift. She responded that she could not think of anything unique or strange to give me as a birthday present in return. Well, truthfully a life-long friendship that grows with age is the best present that one could ever wish for.

A friend that stands by you, through thick and thin. A friend that does not judge but offered advice and piece or peace of mind. You seldom contacted yet when you get to meet, it was like they never left, who is always there even if you are far apart. Some friends seemed to be always fighting, never see eye to eye on even the most trivial matter and yet they remain friends. Its baffling and only understood between themselves. They have their own reasons. It is their unique kind of friendship and who are we to judge?

Imagine waking up to the smell of a freshly mowed lawn. Heh, I really do love the smell of freshly-cut grass... they are just so, umm, fresh? Well, the smell of freshly baked bread should be more tantalizing to the taste buds. When I woke up this morning, I planned to have a peaceful quiet and non-stressful day. Nothing exciting really, just perfecting my pizza-making skill.

Who am I kidding? I only have to line up the ingredients and dump it all in the bread-machine. I didn't even go shopping today. So I have to make do with whatever I can raid from our fridge and cabinets. For two large size pizzas you only need 120g of water, 1 TBSP Olive oil, 1 TSP sugar, 1/2 TSP salt, 250g Bread flour and 1 TSP instant yeast. The machine took 1 1/2 hours (mix, prove and mix in between). This recipe should also work outside the machine, just as long as you give the dough time to prove.

While waiting for my pizza-dough, I started working on my Mexican Bread recipe. The sweet bread type, its sold at Fun Bread... with crispy chocolate or vanilla layer. They used to taste good but recently, the quality seemed to have changed. I don't know, less flour maybe? more enhancer to keep the volume? I have been searching for the recipe and luckily found it in my mom's Bread Recipe book. I have tried it twice, quite a while back. My third trials today seemed to come out all right. For this particular recipe, I have to prepare the sponge and left it for 5 hours before I can prepare the dough for the bread. While at that, I prepared the toppings for my pizza. I could only find a can of Tuna and some leftover bottle of Mayonnaise and a slab of cheese.

So, you can imagine me working in the kitchen nearly the whole day covered with flour. My nephew riding his tricycle round and round the kitchen table, singing ABC over and over again (more like shouting) while my youngest niece perched on the chair, trying to grab my cooking utensils and contribute to the mess. It was a chaotic morning... but it was fun.

My sis once passed by the kitchen and raised an eye-brow, "Pizza again?".
"Yeah, I will keep working on the pizza, until everyone gets bored and couldn't take it anymore", I joked. But I was seriously considering it. It feels good if the food you made gets eaten (and get good reviews)...

So, that was my Friday. Nothing as exciting as getting lost in the jungle trying to locate a campsite (with waterfall), not as challenging as climbing up to Low's Peak before dawn (thanks for waiting for me up there, bro!), not as unpredictable as being thrown off during whitewater rafting (thanks for fishing me out of the water, Frank!) and not as frustrating as sitting in the darkness for more than 5 hours without light and air-conditioning. I have gotten my fair share of misadventures. But yeah... today was an ordinary Pizzalicious Friday

Exhausted.
Mentally and physically.
I am mentally and physically wiped out.
I have been trying to post on this blog for several days but I was not able to manufacture the words. I also started to write on my reports but stopped on the first sentence. I had things to say but I couldn't find the words.

I cleaned my room but I couldn't find what I was looking for. Maybe I shouldn't have scrubbed the floor. I washed my car this week (My cousin from Kuching who stayed for three days helped). This is a record for this year. Gloating over a spotless unsoiled vehicle does not help either. No, polish. That will take an extra special effort from me. The rain came just a few minutes of wiping it dry (no kidding!).

A colleague bought me a brooch. A shiny letter of the alphabet. Less than a day of fixing it up my scarf, I discovered it missing. How sad is that? To add salt to the wound, my cell phone's (just bought last year) mic is not working. I could hear my caller at the other end, calling my name several times before giving up. After a Motorolla, two Sony Ericcsons, a Nokia, two LGs later, I ended up with a cheap china Ferrari phone. Not a brand name (I dont think this has any) but it really looked like a toy car (This is my favourite phone of all, not counting the iPhone that I admired but is hesitant to buy at moment). I thought, this will conclude my love affairs with phones. The rest either ended up stolen, bestowed to a cousin, lent to a nephew, given to a niece or missing in action. The SMS function is still in working condition. Maybe, this is all that I need. Maybe this is enough.

I missed chatting with our youngest sister. I concluded that she was busy preparing for her exams. One of my sister is still mad at me, I think. I was trying to give advices. If you have younger sisters or brothers, you know how it is. If you kept quiet, you lead them to think that they are doing everything right but if you offered your mind, you became the bad guy. I am bone-tired of being the big sister that always get the cold shoulder. It is sometimes frustrating.

On a brighter note, Alhamdulilah, I am still alive, well and able to sample the World's wealth and happiness, for now.

Time has not been able to stop thoughts.
Distance was never far enough.
Feelings were always unfathomable.
Presence were never seen,
always heard and felt.
All four never showed compassion,
for I am the way I am and will be.

...for always...

Leisurely wrestling with thoughts, I stumbled across a can of words. With product label as brown as a berry and expiry date as dead as a door-nail, the content could be hazardous. A baffling construction of LEGO pieces. This could be LOVE defined.

A strange being, LOVE is. Instead of something solid, it could be gaseous at room temperature. Some need it just like they need air to breathe. It could intoxicate because others would die for it. Just like food, it should be taken in moderation. Imagine drinking Pepsi. Left open, the dissolved gas escaped. Try to drink it without the frizzle and sizzle.

A gas does not have a definite shape. It assumed any shape it is in and takes up whatever space is offered. Love recognizes no boundaries. A mother would do anything in return for her child's comfort, safety and happiness.

Just like tear gas, you either break down in tears or it tears you down. It could be reactive or as stable and unreactive as noble gases. Love could show indifference and kept to itself. Just like noble gases, they do not need others. OR DO THEY?