Unanswered Questions: a poem

Why do men always break our heart?
They woo you with words so sweet
That you cant help but melt
They treat you good that you feel
You're the luckiest gal on earth
But once they detect a flaw (or they fancy some other better creatures)
They slip away quietly
And you're left puzzled.
Do they think you are such a heartless creature
That they can just leave you
And that you wont feel the hurt?
To toss around when we're unwanted?

We've been through this cycle since primordial time
They come, they conquer, they leave.
such patriarchal beliefs should stop.
We are persons of our own right
We have equal claims to education and career.
Why cant we have the same for relationships?
Why must they have the last say?
Why must we comply at the expense of our broken hearts?

I'm tired of this stupid charade
Of men chasing 36-24-36
Or ogling at a C or D cup
You have to play their game in order to be "happy"
You have to be tiny or bountiful in the upper department
But they can be pot-bellied and vulgar.
What gives?
If they are so visual, they should take a look at themselves.
They are not Brad Pitt, so why should they ask for Angelina Jolie?
But this is the oppression that will never stop.
What happens to good decent women like me?
Are they scared of intelligence?
Scared that they cant answer the questions
That require honest-to-goodness answers.
Why do they break our hearts?

nostalgia at its best

Seri Puteri thoroughbred, Form 1 Ilmu

my seri puteri friends were talking about our old school pics in our yahoogroup email. june (or known as june o'hara) has scanned this pic, and when i viewed it this afternoon, a drop of tear fell. yes, call me a sucker for anything nostalgic, because i was transported back to the year of 1986, when this pic was taken. in fact, i know i had this pic before, but somehow i lost it. the funny thing is everybody looks so skema...so innocent and naive haha. i remember we took this pic with one senior (a prefect) who was in charge of our class for assemblies (and checking nails to see whether they're short or not....that's what you get when you're studying in a top girls boarding school). some of the girls are in the yahoogroup - like Ella from batu pahat, now a successful entrepreneur, Ina, an MPM officer now on leave to follow hubby to Sudan, Syeeqah, working for Kedah State Govt, Fezzy, a doctor specialising in pathology and now lecturing in HUKM, Anne, working as an engineer with Kimberley & Clark, As, a doctor specialising in hepatology attached to Selayang Hospital, June attached to Maybank as legal officer and Normi in Zyratex. only shidah and zana are not in the pic as they joined us later in 89. there are a lot of other girls in the pic whom we've lost contact with...but are with us in our memory, as we've been classmates for 5 years. well well, we've come a long way, girls.... i miss those days.


note: i'm not wearing any tudung here (as most of the girls), and although i had started wearing glasses then, i wasnt wearing any glasses in this pic.

They call me Miss Nora

those who enrol in teaching pedagogy classes will always hear these words from their lecturers - that teaching requires the teacher's ingenuity, and even prepared with only a white chalk, a teacher can do wonders and teach.

after 11 years of teaching, i believe that student-teacher rapport is the best in ensuring an effective teaching and learning process to take place (though now i dont know if the process does take place). consider what goes on in my current classes in school.

in my Form 4 Ikram, the best class.

Syakirah: teacher, no need to teach la today teacher, so tired la.

me: i dont care, you still have to write the 350 words essay on describing places. start brainstorming now! Pravin! the government gave you the table for you to write it on! When i was in Seri Puteri....

the whole class: awwwwwwwhhhh

Pravin/Weng Ju: This is madness! (in mock anger)

Nagend: teacher what about the moulin rouge? (naughty smile)

Nagend is the typical cheeky boy who always gives me headache in class when he starts thinking of other things. today we learnt diphthongs in phonetics and he gave me this one kind of naughty smile when i said "diphthongs".

me: Nagend, i doubt there's an ounce of pure thought inside your brain.

Pravin: (being the smallest in the class, and the most naive, turns to Nagend) what diphthongs are you talking about?

Nagend: (giving them a knowing look) you know, thongs.

and i gave the boys a hard stare.

in 3 Harmoni, where making noise, being a busybody and reporting are the norms.

Andy: teacher, Chua just said the F word.

me: Lim, stand in the corner. no F words please, or i'll chilli your mouth. Andy, if you stop being a busybody, this class will be a better place..

the whole class: wwooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!

Safwan, Aizat: teacher, Shahril just spoke in Malay teacher. 10 sen, 10 sen.

me: Shahril, 10 sen please....

this is a typical day for me in class, aside from teaching them, the students are, well, teenagers who make the lessons entertaining, without them, i'm just a normal teacher who makes a student sleep.

it's gettin' hot in here

that's the line from Nelly's song. dont ask me the title, because right now i just cant recall the song. only that, it is really hot in here! my house is unbearable, it's like a furnace. i thought of installing an air conditioning unit at the living room, but i've to call someone to do some tinkering at the airdraft and all that is just plain leceh. so now most of the time, i escape to my own haven, which is my room. cookie accompanies me as well.

even in the morning, i'll be sweating. the air is completely dry, i kept fanning myself at 10.35 in the morning in class! trips to the canteen means iced cold drinks, and most of the time it's lime juice. ah, lime juice...with heaps of ice cubes, which i caution the drink lady, to put less since the ice can cause soreness in the muscles. if in the staffroom i'm the first to get so cold because i'm facing the air-conditioning unit, now i welcome and embrace it like long lost friend.

god, i'm melting!

Hang Tuah or Hang Jebat?

i'm very much disturbed with what's happening in the political scene in my state. before this, my state is the sleeping underdog if compared to big giants such as selangor or perak, despite our so-called "rich" natural resources found on our shores (one wonders why, despite the petroleum found, terengganu is still one of the most backwards states in malaysia, nevermind that Kuala Terengganu has become a "city". where hath the abundance gone?).

now, as a loyal citizen and local of Terengganu (despite my absence due to long years of seeking knowledge) i would like to implore to the readers to remember Hikayat Hang Tuah. it is something that our children are taught in schools in Sejarah. but how many really understand its implication?

the story of Laksamana Hang Tuah's loyalty to the Sultan of Melaka is legendary. despite the modern historians' deconstruction of Hang Jebat's label as loyal friend and erasing the label of being a traitor to Melaka, one should not ignore the fact that Hang Tuah epitomises the model malay.

"Tak kan melayu hilang di dunia" ( perish not will the malays from the eyes of the world)

how proud a Malay feels to utter this line, which are immortalised in bronze in our National Museum. yes, one feels proud. but to just feel proud than to actually practise it wont make us a phenomenal malay like hang tuah was. hang tuah epitomises this line because of his loyalty to his Sultan. that is what the malays do. we are the subjects, and we should respect and be loyal to our ruler. remember before the Brits came we were all the Malay Sultanate States, and we should preserve the tradition and respect the Sultans.

the actions of some VIPs in my state is what i will call it as the Hang Jebat actions. remember that our actions reveal our characters, and i must say, these are the actions of pleibeians who are trying to mimic the great rulers but sadly, fall short.

the people are no longer pleibeians here. we are no longer blinded by facades. we demand for our rights, to return to us what is ours, and not to some pleibeians who think they are the deserving ones. the Sultan is a wise and educated man (thus, he's not a pleibeian) who is our protector and saviour.

might i remind those stubborn stuck up pleibeians to become Hang Tuah or else, Hang Tuah's famous line will perish. and so will the trust in them.

the ptk exam

ptk. every government officer's nightmare. it's a big joke actually.

whoever thought of this ptk exam must have been out of touch with reality. and also because he doesnt have to sit for the exam.

rule no. 1. you don't evaluate a teacher's performance by looking at the scores of the paper. you observe them in class, at how they're teaching. you dont judge them by asking them about piaget's learning theory or some particular circular dated at watever month and year.

the teachers have to sit for 2 papers - the general paper, and the teaching and learning method paper. the joke was, i blasted the 2 papers, not knowing what i was doing. i scored 4 for paper 1, and scored 2 for paper 2. my friend ina at mpm laughed when i told her my results.

those who're at DG44 voiced out their dissatisfaction over the ptk. i told one of them, i spent 5 trying years to get my masters degree, and yet i'm still stuck at DG41, and worse, have to endure the exams as well...

talk about unfairness.

for this year's paper, i was prepared. i bought the textbook and crammed like nobody's business. it paid off actually. the paper wasnt so bad, despite the fact that i had to read it in malay (only teslians will understand why i said this).

but, it still doesnt do justice to what we've been doing. we deserve better evaluation.

it's that time again...

i hate the war of the posters. don't get me wrong, i'm not siding with any party. it's just that i do not think that there're any aesthetical values in hanging or sticking the same ol' reproductions. wouldnt it be nice if we have reproductions of monet or van gogh instead? at least we can admire the vibrant colours...

yes, what people will do for the sake of power. foucault has said knowledge is power, and power is knowledge. what he theorises is true, i guess, although the definition of power differs from one person to another. what i've discovered is that knowledge is powerful to those who has it, and wisdom is the end result. though in my case, i'm not as wise as those intelligentsia nor as wise as Gandalf or Belgarath or Dumbledore. but i cant help and sit back and feel a mixture of incredulity and amusement as i watch the pleibeian drama unfolds...

dear god, save me from this mayhem of facades!

happy singles awareness day

let's just say i never celebrated the tut! day. not even when i was in relationships. i'm a hopeless romantic at heart, but now i'm a cynic. why is it that because of one day, the price of a stalk of rose simply skyrockets? it's like what they used to say about roti canai during LIMA, which costs RM4 per piece.

thank god i listen to my cd in the car, so i didnt have to listen to sappy songs yesterday. there were some nice romantic movies on tv, but i think a bloody movie was more appropriate (haha). yesterday, i decided to eat out. and unfortunately i chose the wrong day to dine out, because there were couples, and couple, and more couples. even a young girl, probably 14-15 years old received a bouquet of flowers from her boyfriend.

as i was enjoying my pasta my masters coursemate kak non called to wish me. i told her i didnt want to be wished. and being kak non, she sighed and then began

"you know nora, i was supposed to have a romantic dinner with my husband, but he had to work so in the end i have to have dinner with my father in law". hmm talk about being married.

"kak non, what are you complaining about? you married the guy. that's romantic enough".

then she told me what rudy and jay jay did on the radio, declaring it's singles awareness day, and that they hung up on a girl who called in to dedicate a song to her bf....haha way to go!

later that night i wished my niece nana, who replied

"happy singles awareness day to you too".

and soon we were pouring our hearts out (or what gina might have called it as 'whining').

look, to all the couples, no offence, but it's not fair that you get to celebrate your "love" whilst we the singles get to sigh and watch while you're on cloud 9, getting roses and chocolates and god knows what else. just like the feminists fight for the rights of the women, or the intelligentsia and the postcolonial literary scholars fight for the rights of the colonised, we the singles also fight for our right. because we also deserve to celebrate ourselves.

happy singles awareness day.

my nephew the actor

during the school hols, my filipino sis in law mentioned to me that my nephew arshad zamir was involved in an independent movie, and i was thinking, wah.... an actor! i soon forgot about it until yesterday when my brother showed me the newspaper clipping of the movie Kurus. only that i'm quited amused that this is a story of budak kampung, and he looks more mixed than a real malay.

the movie will be aired on ntv7 either late this month or early march.

appreciation

when i first taught tok jiring students eons ago (god i feel as aged as gandalf or belgarath), i was very young, bursting with idealism, encouraging my students to go the extra mile. being a fresh new teacher, i was still new at managing the students in class, and most of the time, i behaved like them too.

but i'm proud to say that after 10 years, some of the students i taught have contacted me through friendster, and i've met some of them. some of them have been successful, some are doing okay, but the most important thing is that they remember. a girl that i taught invited me to her wedding, which i did go, and after 9 years, i met her, all grown up and now she's a wife. just a few hours ago, another boy (now a man! haha...makes me feel old) met me at home, bringing her fiancee'. we've contacted each other through emails, reading about each other's stories and learning about life in the process.

my heart is smiling.

the attack of the rodent

eversince Fluffy died, my kitchen has been besieged with nightly raids by a dirty, big rodent. before the techie comes to install the alarm i thought it best to get rid of the scurrying long tailed skank. my patience ended when one morning, my container of spaghetti was opened, and my bottle of sesame oil spattered across the floor. obviously i was cursing that morning while cleaning up. one thought did cross my mind, that this is like the rat in ratatouille, except that i doubt this one has any culinary skills at all.

so i brought the container to the sink, and left it there, still not wanting to throw the contents away. the next morning, the lid of the container was missing. another thought came to mind....is this an italian rat??

and so i bought the sticky gum, hoping that it 'd trap the rat. i put some pasta and then a breadcrust. the next morning the crust was missing. but there was no sign of a squeaking rodent trapped in the sticky gum.

yesterday i bought a steel trap. the problem was, the opening was a bit small, and i doubt that the rat would be able to get in to take the KFC chicken skin that i left. yep, i was correct. it was untouched. but the rodent made a mess on the floor, because it tried to take the pasta that i left on the gum....and i guess it struggled with it. still it got free. damn....how do you get rid of the rodent?

take it slow

on last night's show, oprah interviewed the writer of "eat, pray, love", melissa gilbert. this lady wasnt happy in her marriage, so she walked out of it, went to stay in naples for 4 months (where she ate lots of pasta and gained 24 lbs) and then went to india and then to bali.

her story is about changing your life, and following your heart in doing it. she gave 3 tips to happiness which are:

1. ask yourself what do you really,really, really want (daily, if you must)
2. change your mantra (to something positive)
3. write about what makes you happy for the day.

this morning as i woke up, i did ask myself the 1st question. and i answered that i want to let go of my problems and to take it easy.

i'm good at taking things easy. so despite my bundles of 'joy' (exam papers), i went to the market, a visit that i look forward to every week; cooked a healthy lunch of veggies and organic brown rice and in the afternoon i made apple jam and baked scones for tea. i did not think of my problems for once.

and though i'm not exceedingly happy, at least i felt calm and tranquil.

the itch of the wanderlust

a young teacher at school told me her husband is in germany for a 3 month course. i felt the itch then. i told her if i were her, i would have followed the husband.





i was just watching globe trekker today, and they showed all the markets in the world that one should visit. they featured portobello road market, where i visited and bought my griddle (yes, a griddle).

immediately i was transported to the day when i visited the place with such eagerness and excitement. how i had a nice chat with the bloke (haha so British) who sold the griddle, who told me he's been to Johore. i'm reminded of the colourful market, which reminded me so much of petaling street.

i love the wild red poppies in the meadows that make them look so cheerful and vibrant

i remember the laidback atmosphere of melbourne, and how i love buying fruits at victoria market. i remember the good times i had there with my nieces, and how a fat sheep followed me around because i had food. at warrook cattle farm, where we saw kangaroos, sheep and more sheep, and ate scones






i remember when i reached dover before crossing the english channel, i recited matthew arnold's poem The Dover Beach.


i remember squealing in delight when i caught sight of Stonehenge for the first time.

i remember feeling mesmerised when looking at Eiffel Tower at night, or as i walked the halls of the Grande Appartment in Chateau de Versailles.




i dont have a lot of money, but once i travelled, i'm addicted to it. it's like a madness that one cannot cure. the sense of excitement of encountering something new and sampling their culture is what drives me to go to all these places.

the itch to travel is tugging at me again.

with all the things that have been happening to me, i hope to go to one special place this year, if God permits.

still the little girl

i'm a grown woman living in her own house. i'm the mistress of my own. and yet, last week, when i wanted to do something for the safety of the house, (and obviously for my safety too), i was criticised badly by my siblings.

that's when you get when you're the youngest of 9. whatever age you are, they never see you as an adult, but as a girl who can never learn to live in the harsh world. it really upsets me, because they never seem to respect my decision and keep on patronising me. of course, one even said "i know that's your house, so that's your decision..." but then went on to lecture me. god, will you all please stop that? one even said "i dont want you to one day say you regret doing this".

and this came from my educated, high flying siblings (said in the dryest tone possible).

all i want to do right now is to escape to some meadows filled with wild red poppies.

A Review of 2007 and Resolutions for 2008

my 2007 started not badly, but it picked up the pace in the middle of the year. that's when i had the most incredible experience of travelling, but despite my excitement over Stonehenge or La Tour Eiffel, i thought of home and missed it more.

come ramadhan, my world fell apart when my mother was diagnosed with cancer. i wanted a perfect picture, wanted my mother to be strong, as she's always been. her sickness devastated me, because my idea of stability just shattered. it's like a giant snowball that increases its size with every roll down the hill - it gets worse and worse.... juggling with my exam marking, coping with family problems and to be there for my mother. and as if it wasnt enough that my life turned outside down, some men broke into my house, and they're not drug addicts - but professionals using ilmu. again, i'm exposed to more vulnerability, and there are times when i feel like giving up, because i dont think i can face a worse situation than this.

i want to be happy. that's my wish. i have so many worries and tears in my life, that just for once, i want happiness.

back to school

today we had our supposed-to-be-the-first-meeting-of-the-year-although-it's-still-2007 meeting. it was a boisterous affair, what with 134 teachers around.

with the new admin, the meeting was different. our principal just loves talking, and talking and talking. soon, i was yawning like there was no tomorrow. the other teachers behaved like the students they have in class - making noise.

after what seemed like an eternity, the meeting finally ended, with the distribution of the timetable. i checked mine. okay, english class, english class, english class.... PJ....what????? PJ class???? moi???? they must be crazy. i went to complain to Ramzu, who then told me to complain to Sifu Shafiai, the master timetable maker. and i was like, "how could you give me PJ???" but it looks like the timetable is here to stay, until they decide to change it again.

neighbourliness

one of the topics that students have to learn in English (in the old syllabus, that is) is about neighbourliness. it's a shame that such moral value has to be taught in classroom, because this should be taught by the society, to be practised in the society.

i have been living at my housing area for more than 30 years, so my neighbours have known me since i was a small, cute, japanese looking girl (ahem!). there's Pak Abu, the mechanic, and to whom my family are indebted to, for all the things that he had done. i grew up with his daughter and know all of his children. then there's Makcik Munah and Along, who used to entertain me with cookies and tea when i paid social visits when i was just 5-6 years old. Along used to smoke cigarrette and would cook on turpentine gas burner. Makcik Munah is a merry lady whose laughter would brighten the house (she still serves me with treats when i visit her!) and now spends her time taking care of her grandson, and cooking for her only daughter, Dr Yah, who has now become my friend, my briskwalking companion, my student in baking class (wah i've become a sifu) who gave me a lot of tips when i wanted to go to London and Paris. Along and Pak Abu had passed away, and now Pak Abu's son, Din, takes over the father's place. i'm very touched, because, despite facing hardship, Din and his wife have helped me in so many ways. since my mother was diagnosed with cancer and that i've to stay alone, my neighbours all gave me their contact numbers, and told me to call them anytime there's an emergency, but Din and his wife's kindness extended more than that...when i was small i often wondered why my mother has a soft spot for certain people, but now i know why. because we always have a soft spot for those who are willing to help us when we're in need, without asking anything in return.

this is what you call neighbourliness, and may Allah bless them always.

headaches, headaches and more headaches.

after god knows how many days, after frantic calls and visits to the TM Point, my fixed phone line has been restored half an hour ago. only now i know how dependent i am on my streamyx. to amuse myself when i'm bored marking the papers, i sit in front of the idiot box, watching nigella cook delicious dishes, noting how many adjectives she uses to tempt us to try the recipes out.

now that i've come to the end of my marking, i'm more relaxed, although i did have a headache 2 days ago when i doubled the usual daily script quota just to be able to finish by today. god, i do hope the lembaga peperiksaan will pay us ASAP. marking the papers isnt like smelling roses and listening to the birds chirping.

i do have the phobia of staying alone now, after my privacy was invaded by the blardy drug addicts. i sleep with lights on, and with my mother's walking cane beside me. because of the phobia i harrassed the tukang kayu to install the new door ASAP, but because terengganu folks are slow-paced people who cant understand the mad dash syndrome, the door was installed 4 days after i went to the shop. he installed extra latches, as i had instructed him to, and with a shrug he commented "if the burglar wants to break in, he'll break in, even with the latches". yeah right. so much for the optimism and security.

even the the alarm system people are making hard for me. i wanted their techie to come over to assess, which they said "against their standard procedure". they wanted me to fax over the floor plan, then asked for the extended version floor plan, to which, irritably, i answered "look, only my late father knew about the extended floor plan and because my house has been burgled, i dont know where it is. that's the reason why i told you to send your people here". well at least they sent the quotation, so hopefully i can sleep better after this.

and just now my neighbour told me that there was a snatch theft in town. dear god, is anything safe now? is everyone dangerous? have we become that corrupted? i guess KTrg is finally prepared to become a waterfront city then, what with crimes that can match KL.

notice that i've become cranky and disillusioned. that happens when your life seems more like a string of unfortunate events.

Had A Bad Day

here i quote Had A Bad Day by Daniel Powter

You stand in the line just to hit a new low
You're faking a smile with the coffee to go
You tell me your life's been way off line
You're falling to pieces every time
And I dont need no carrying on
Cause you had a bad day
You're taking one down
You sing a sad song just to turn it around...

i didnt have a bad day. i had a bad week. talked about being unlucky. at the rate i'm going, i'm surprised i'm still sane.

there's cerekarama or drama minggu ini (those who grew up in the 70s n early 80s will remember this) at the house, and at the same time, i was supposed to mark the 1119 papers (supposedly in peace). and then, one day, at the LDP, my car was hit by a kenari, because some stupid car in front slowed down to almost a halt (at the highway???) and i had to do an emergency brake. the next day, i was called by my neighbour, who informed me my house was burgled by some stupid blardy drug addicts (sorry, i'm really mad right now). and today, when i was on my way back (alone) to KT, the toll girl told me to turn back as the highway is closed. what???i parked my car after the toll, where most bound to the eastcoast also stopped. exchanging info was crucial at this time. my team leader was telling me go back by hook or by crook *sigh*. after a phonecall to my sis, i decided to just go on ahead, and there was a detour that bypasses Lanchang (the affected area) . i arrived after more than 7 hours driving. i decided to have dinner outside since i didnt want to face the house yet.

well, here i am, in my messy room, thanx to the stupid drug addict.my mother lost her opal bracelet, i lost my society's money and my gold chain and my gold heartshaped locket... but what amuses me is that they took my cheap sabahan rice pearls. dont know how much they got for it.

no use crying over spilt milk i supposed.

Reality Bites

has anyone seen that movie? the one starring Wynona Ryder and Ethan Hawke? i'm not about to talk about the movie, but about its title.

Today, we brought my mother (for the 1st time) to the oncology clinic. normally, when you go to any clinic, you will stare at sick people because of their abnormality. and usually, the patient will feel so humiliated when eyes are on him, because he's different from the rest.

but at the oncology clinic, nothing is uncommon or abnormal here. i saw a cancer who tied a bandanna around her head, which means she had chemotheraphy before, there's one woman who's losing hair, and another threw up noisily at the hallway just before she started her chemo session. my mother felt pain in her body, so we requested a bed for her to lie down on while waiting for her turn.

this phenomenon is not normal in any other clinic, but it is normal at the oncology clinic. i was thankful that the staff there were very understanding (as they should be) as cancer is a disease that not only affects the patient physically, but also mentally and spiritually. the same applies to their caregivers and family members. a visit to the clinic is a humbling experience, as it teaches us that cancer does not know boundaries, races or social classes. it is about human compassion, at its core.

A Break from Sittin' Down

it's that time of the year again, when i'm almost glued to the chair for more than 12 hours a day. it's paper marking time. while the prospect of getting handsomely paid appeal to every examiner, (esp. the 1119 teams, but last year's payment was only cleared in july) the torture is just beginning. it doesnt matter if you get good scripts, it pains when you get the bad ones. and worse, very long scripts at that. i really pity my eyes. plus my brain, because to those who're not in the know, we've to find mistakes and mentally rectify them. worse, to restructure the sentences. that's why grammar competency is a must for an English teacher. sadly though, there are some who're not, and sometimes i shudder at all the misinformation.

speaking of English, one of my pilot brothers told me that the pilots have to sit for an English exam, and soon it'll be made mandatory for every MAS pilot. what he's so frustrated about is that they're tested on general knowledge, and not on their skills. how would anyone know what one calls a baby kangaroo?(except for Aussies, i guess) i did tell him that the exam isnt valid, as it caters for native speakers, and MAS should have their own panel of question building, but he shook his head in dismay.

so much trouble over one language *sigh*

Cancer:A Life-changing Experience

when my mother was diagnosed with rectal cancer, my family and i was devastated. in one of my entries, i ve written that we dont bother about all of this until your loved ones or you yourself suffer from it.

most people think that perhaps by not thinking about cancer, it will not haunt them. believe me, at the rate all the Malaysians are eating, it is not impossible for it to silently creep and then launch an attack. we are not invincible creatures after all, we're just mortals.

my sister and i have read a very informative book, which is The Complete Cancer Cleanse: A Program to Detoxify and Renew Body, Mind and Spirit by Cherie and John Calborn and Michael Mahaffey. it is a must read for everybody, in fact.

this book informs us of all the food that we should avoid, which in fact, include all our favourites, which are all fried foods, peanuts and peanut products (because it gives out a substance which can cause cancer) and everything sugary (because, as the writers often repeat in the book, sugar feeds cancer), animal protein especially beef and also hormone-injected chickens and all canned, bottled and packed foods which have preservative. being a nation of great eaters, i know this doesnt suit well with our culture of eating. well, that depends on whether you want to be healthy, or to enjoy life now and have a shorter life span later and suffer in the process.

i've already talked about foods that we should avoid. here's the list of foods that are good for preventing cancer.

Cruciferous vegetables - broccoli, cauliflower, cabbage, Brussels sprout.

Tomato and tomato products - raw tomatoes, tomato puree, tomato sauce. a substance in tomato, which is known for fighting cancer, is only stable when the tomato is cooked, while our body finds it hard to digest this substance when it is raw. it is advisable to eat cooked tomatoes and their products, although this doesnt mean that raw tomatoes should be avoided.

Beans, legumes and nuts- soya bean is the best of all the beans to fight cancer because it has lycophene. however, having said that, please remember that processed food isnt good because it has preservatives. traditionally prepared tempe is good, and the writers recommend homemade organic soyabean milk rather than storebought ones. in fact, last night i bought organic soyabeans and they're all sitting on the counter, soaked, waiting to be blended. but since in malaysia homemade soyabean milk is sold everywhere, this isnt a problem, only that it is watery. legumes include lentils (dhalls), chickpeas and peas, while nuts (except for peanuts) and seeds such as sunflower seeds are good for us.

unpolished grains - anything white isnt good for us, as it means it's been bleached. remember bleach is like chlorox, which means all the nutrients are washed off. therefore, white rice, white sugar, white flour are not good for us. the best alternative is to eat organic brown rice (which, despite my trepidation, tastes okay) and other grains which include quinoa, millet, organic oats, wild rice and barley. i use unbleached white flour for baking.

note: sugar consumption - for those who're watching weight, guzzling those sugar free fizz drinks is not the answer. aspartame, which is the sweetener, isnt good. i've stopped taking white sugar as well, and now taking organic molasses sugar, which is darker than brown sugar. having said that, it doesnt mean you can eat as much sugar as you want as sugar feeds cancer.

good healthy oils - good oils include flaxseed oil, olive oil and virgin coconut oil (VCO). among all these three, the most stable for cooking is virgin coconut oil. avoid margarine and palm oil (sorry, i know that this is the cheapest on the aisle, and the most available) and no, sunflower oil isnt going to make you invincible either. a year ago, my seri puteri exclassmates were discussing VCO in our yahoogroup email, but as usual, since i didnt see the use of taking it, i read, but never did anything about it. a few months ago, my sister, who is working in Kementerian Pertanian, extolled the benefits of taking VCO as her department produces VCO, (cheaper than the ones sold in health food shops) telling me how her cholesterol level had gone down after she took VCO. she gave my mother a bottle, which my mother refused to take. now, i'm planning to cook with it.

vegetable juice - fresh vegetable juices are highly recommended especially for cancer patients. this include tomato juice, celery juice, wheatgrass. however, i take more fresh fruit juices. when making the juice, use juice extractor and do not ever ever add sugar. last year, on the flight returning from my graduation, i met a friendly Chinese lady who told me that she is 60 years old. she didnt look 60 then, she looked younger. then she took out her pic when she was 40 years old. the woman in the pic had sagged and sallow skin! she had high blood pressure then. so she decided to take fruit juices only, and spent RM800 on fruits alone monthly. she hardly took rice and ate steamed fish.

it is highly recommended that we eat organic foods as this means no chemicals are used in planting them. yes, they are more expensive, but think of the benefits.

the book also tells us that our lifestyles and the products can cause cancer as well. too much stress which include anger, sadness, can contribute to cancer. our water has too much chlorine which can also cause cancer. our soaps, shampoos and facial cleansers have sodium or ammonium laureth sulphate (SLS) which also can cause cancer. even Johnson & Johnson has SLS. i know for sure that shokubutsu does not have SLS, and unfortunately, all shampoos have SLS including Himalaya products. finally, after a visit to the organic shop, i found an SLS free shampoo, I-green, which costs RM25.80 for 300ml (it has natural ingredients). those using feminine wash should also be on alert. i used Summer's Eve before this, and it has SLS as well. the ones that do not have SLS include Binari and Lactacyd. i'm now trying to find SLS-free skincare.

as you can see, i'm on the road of changing of my lifestyle by turning organic and shunning away certain products. as i was telling my friend what i read, she said "you'll feel more depressed after reading it". yes, we can feel depressed, even the writers of the book has mentioned it. but this is after all, OUR LIVES, and we still have time to change. would you prefer to live a healthy life and looking youthful, or to be in a hospital bed with wires and tubes, or even worse, going for chemo sessions??

i hope that after reading this, you will not forget it because you have a hectic life. i hope that after reading this, you will take time to reflect on your life, and how you want it to end. like turning evil, it is so easy to just be complacent and ignorant. to be able to change your lifestyle means you're doing something for yourself, because you love yourself.

a gamut of emotions

i was told a few nights ago that my mother is now in stage 3. i was depressed, and i quickly called 2 of my friends who are a neurologist and a hepatologist to ask for their opinion. i called one of my brothers last night, and he gave me a very sound advice "no use crying over it. she still has it". we agreed not to tell her that she s in stage 3, as it d demoralise her. yes, in my tiny heart i still believed in fairy tales that my mother would get well again and that she'd be her usual self. but that's just a wishful belief.

i went to work feeling down, and my friends were sympathetic. some suggested alternative med., some just gave words of encouragement, which are soothing, and exactly what i needed. there's one teacher whose wife has colon cancer, and also in stage 3. he told me it's all about our food intake. he now buys organic veg and eats unpolished rice. that reminds me of a friend who is a breast cancer survivor. she ate nothing but veg and fruits when we were at a course.

i went to see my mother today. she was much altered than the last time i saw her which was last weekend. her complexion is pinker, but it's her attitude. she sat there in her wheelchair and i was struck by the resemblance between her and my eldest sister who is suffering from alzheimer, who had that lost look. my mother is a fighter, a woman who knows her own mind, and very opinionated. i didnt understand why she lost her gutsy spirits. later i found out that my mother was upset that she's going to be discharged. she's worried that she's going to be a burden
to us. it's very frustrating to see that she's quiet, and doesnt reprimand anybody.

this is life, it's a bed of roses, but with thorns.

first day raya family communion

it is universally known that children always flock to where their parents are during festivities. we flocked my mother's ward room yesterday. she had been transferred to a smaller room due to the lack of staff, so that means not much room for us to hang around.

my mother, who was so used to being the queen of the house, had to wait for us to come. it's sad to see her thus, a strong woman who raised 8 children, to be so frail, with albumin fed to her through the tube. she is quiet, which is unlike her, but at least our presence helped to ease her pain.

in terengganu, we used to take half an hour to take family pictures, but this year, we brought the family picture taking to a new level when we took pictures beside my mother in the ward.

the first house to be attacked was my sister's house in ampang, which is near to the hospital. so it was a full house, full of merry making and laughter. then, we quickly tidied up things and left for my other siblings houses. we are now suffering from too-much-food syndrome: lontong at my sister's house, nasi tomato at my bro's house, and my other sister served nasi dagang (which i didnt take because i was too full). at my eldest sister's house, my bro in law served his famous extra fiery hot hot rendang (which i took only a little dot since i didnt want to invite gastric pain). today, my bro in shah alam will hold his open house, with nasi minyak and spaghetti bolognaise.

more food consumption.

balik bandar (as opposed to balik kampung) for raya

for the past 3 days, sympathetic friends took me out to buka puasa at secret recipe. it was fun to go out with friends, when you're all alone in the house, wondering what's going to happen to your mother, and wondering why KL is 400km away.

yesterday, unlike other people who balik kampung, i went against the conformity (with remorse, i might add) and came here to KL. the flight wasnt even full. my only consolation was anuar and elina's Suasana Hari Raya on my Sony Walkman hp.

at the hospital, my mother is still weak, she only talks a little, which is unlike her. but the surgeon wants her to sit on the chair so that she will feel alive once more. her protein level is still low, so the solution now is to increase her protein intake.

after the visit, i helped my sister to cook lontong for raya. this is a most excellent menu as i simply love, love, love lontong! especially with kuah kacang. my sister made a lot of it, since we're expecting the family members to gather here first after paying homage to my mother at the hospital.

it's not our typical happy hari raya with laughter, but what is important is we're all here.

selamat hari raya

The hero that breaks many hearts

when the government first announced the 2 malaysian astronauts, my heart just melted when i saw sheikh muszaphar. and to my amusement, i'm not the only one!!! my colleague also has a crush on him, and now we refer to him as "our bf". one married friend was swooning over him on the phone. i had to remind her that she's married more than 10 times. and also reminded myself that he's taken *sigh*. as i was watching the interview on channel 588, i was back to being a 17 year old girl again, gushing as i saw him on the screen, speaking in that pleasant voice and laughing that throaty laugh, and i sighed "god he's so handsome, it's not fair".

he is, after all, the living embodiment of that handsome knight in shining armour, only that instead of an armour, he's clad in his spacesuit and and that big space helmet. it didnt help that he's an orthopaedic surgeon, a restaurateur, a model?!! and now he's a muslim observing all the ibadah. god, how can he handle being perfect?

all i know is, he's a heartbreaker, and his fiancee is the luckiest woman. yahoo news even recognised his good looks when they wrote "a bachelor who has become a national hearttrob"

*sigh* enough said.

when misfortune happens

few people would think of mishaps or misfortunes, unless these things happen to them. 2 months ago, my mother was admitted to GH after having bleeding stools. she was first admitted to the third class surgical ward. the treatment by the nurses there were awful, and to make it worse, the doctors misdiagnosed my mother - based on what i suspect as inaccurate reports from biopsy and ct scan. according to them, my mother has a benign tumour which is 15 cm away from her rectum. my mother was so happy she cried.

but in the aftermath of the results, she began to experience constant trips to the toilet, complaining about a pain near her rectum. i brought her to see a surgeon in kt,s private hospital,who told us the growth is 4-5 cm away from the rectum and to go for a second biopsy and scan because he suspected that it isnt benign.

a few days after that, my mother couldnt stand the pain anymore and told me she wanted to go to kl. i quickly informed my siblings, and we made arrangements to transport her by ambulance to ampang puteri. the surgeon informed us that the growth is 4cm away and that my mother has rectal cancer which hasnt spread to other parts yet. the options are either to undergo radiotherapy or surgical removal. tomorrow, the whole family will decide what course we should take.

we never think about all these things unless it happens to us, or to people we love. all i want is for my mother to be well again, and not to be lying there on the white bed.

please pray for my mother.

what? a day care centre?

today, i entered the staffroom and was greeted with some outburst from the teachers. i asked my colleague, and she told me our PM has suggested that the school hours be extended until 4 pm!!! what????

and so there was an angry outburst, and i guess not only in my staffroom, but also in all staffrooms all over malaysia. okay, so we understand that this is the direct result of nurin's kidnapping and murder. but to extend school hours for more that 8 hours??? that's absurd. why should the teachers be saddled with extra work of being babysitters to the students? students have less attention span, and obviously the teachers too. the rest of the govt officers might say that they work for 8 hours. but they dont deal with teenagers. they dont deal with peer pressure or truancy. we deal at an average of 150 students per week. that can mean around 90 students a day. and we teach the students, which means using our brain - a lot of it. then comes the checking of the exercises - we still use a great deal of thinking. as for me, i have to correct the grammar of my students' essays, and this isnt 10 words of composition, we re talking about an average of 200 words essay for lower secondary and 350 words essay for upper secondary.

some schools have started extending the school hours until 3.30 (in what was supposed to be "pioneer project" but it was just an ambition of one PPD officer), but none lasted. if we, as university students, complain when we have classes from 8-4pm, can you imagine the children and the teenagers? if we have to extend until 3.30, i'm pretty sure we will still have school activities on friday and saturday (which is a common scenario here). and what about 2-session schools who have more than 2000 students? and where do we put our families then? we are not only teachers, but we are also wives, husbands, mothers, fathers, daughters and sons.

the school is a place for seeking knowledge, and not a day care centre. what the authorities should do is to go to the root cause, and not burden us with this. nurin was kidnapped at night. does this mean the school should be extended until night time?

think. we're only humans. we need rest too.

what we need, after a 6-hour schooling, is some rest, away from the essays or math sums. we need time to regenerate, just like our students, who also need time on their own to develop into individuals.

what happened to this world?

the news of the killing of nurin shook the whole nation. many were appalled with what had happened to a little child of 8, and a lot more wish they could sula the killer. me included. what kind of a man who would do such a perverted thing to a helpless little child? probably this isnt a man, but a beast. but then even a beast wouldnt insert a cucumber or an aubergine into the private parts of a girl and then kill her. this is a madman who shouldnt be alive.

everytime we hear about tragic and brutal deaths by some amoral men, i feel there's no hope in this world. no hope for a child to live in happiness and later to become a good person. no hope for wishing for a good life, amongst good people in a good place.

but then, having said that, it doesnt mean that the evil has totally taken over this world. i was watching "Singgah Sahur" the other day, and i was touched, because there are good samaritans out there, (TV3) who take the time to visit the unfortunate families and show us that despite the calamities and misfortunes, life must go on, although with tears. and they shower some cheer to these families by giving them some hampers and money. i saw one father who lost his son in the bus crash, and i just cried when he hugged the tv3 representative. and i also like the idea of involving the audience to do some charity during this ramadhan by donating some money to buy quran, which is for a good cause.

there is still hope, let's nurture it.

Sepet: a review

i never had the chance to watch the film in full, even until today. but i did watch the beginning, part of the middle and the ending. i was crying and crying. okay so i'm a romantic junkie, but i could feel the pain when jason died (of course, who wouldnt?)

i see a lot of postcolonial issues being addressed here, which is a plus for yasmin ahmad. i was impressed that she incorporated Frantz Fanon's ideas on psychological impact of the colonialism in the psyche of the colonised in "Black Skin White Mask" in Orked's dialogue. impressive. not many know the theories of colonialism and postcolonialism.

the plot of the romance between Orked and Jason, a Malay and a Chinese, reminds me of Romeo and Juliet, only that Orked lives in the end. what yasmin ahmad tried to do is to re-advocate cultural hybridity which has been our national narrative. she does this by creating 2 characters who are tolerant and open for "newness" (salman rushdie's word, quoted in his banned book).

Orked is a blend of sweet innocence (wearing baju kurung with sneakers? some of my students have started wearing cotton baju kurung nowadays, without the sneakers) and a cultured, civilised intellectual. despite his coloured hair, jason is a sensitive romantic who writes poetry, and tries hard to be the one for orked.

and after i was crying buckets and buckets of tears (like i cried when watching cyrano de bergerac), there's a quote from the great rabindranath tagore in which he talks about love, which yasmin has taken from his collection of poetry, The Gardener, which he dedicated to WB Yeats:

Your questioning eyes are sad.  They seek to know my meaning as
the moon would fathom the sea.
I have bared my life before your eyes from end to end, with
nothing hidden or held back.  That is why you know me not.
If it were only a gem I could break it into a hundred pieces and
string them into a chain to put on your neck.
If it were only a flower, round and small and sweet, I could
pluck it from its stem to set it in your hair.
But it is a heart, my beloved.  Where are its shores and its
bottom?
You know not the limits of this kingdom, still you are its queen.
If it were only a moment of pleasure it would flower in an easy
smile, and you could see it and read it in a moment.
If it were merely a pain it would melt in limpid tears,
reflecting its inmost secret without a word.
But it is love, my beloved.
Its pleasure and pain are boundless, and endless its wants and
wealth.
It is as near to you as your life, but you can never wholly know
  it.

when the colonised struck the empire:a postcolonial commentary in conjunction with Malaysia's 50th National Day

i'm now watching "rising of great powers" on history channel. as someone who's been exposed to colonialism and postcolonial theory, i'm much appalled by what i've learnt in this programme.

this episode tells of how the great powers during the rennaissance era, portugal and spain, coveted spices that would bring them more wealth. spain and portugal then signed a treaty which partitioned their control of the seas. spain took the americas while portugal, as we know it, claimed asia. thus, these two countries plundered and raped the other countries' natural resources which included gold and silver from the americas, and spices from asia. in later centuries, great britain decided to get her share too, and like a parasite, sucked india's wealth. that is why india was called "the jewel of the empire".

colonialism entails the power expansion of one country over other countries. this hegemony does not only mean territorial expansion, but also monopoly of the country's resources. they also brought western modernisation, and assumed that the "savages" need to be civilised and thus the whites carried "the white man's burden", of educating the "savages" to become better than their forefathers, but not in anyway better than the whites. in short, the colonial power is a parasite and a psycho. unfortunately though, this parasite and psycho still exists in the form of one country who tries to convince the rest of the world that they're doing justice when in fact all they want is the control of the oil.

for years, the belief that everything about the west is superior is imprinted in the minds of the colonised and also postcolonial societies. the rise of the educated from the third world countries, such as Edward Said (author of Orientalism), Homi Bhabha (author of the Location of Culture) and Frantz Fanon (author of Black Skin, White Mask) helped to produce postcolonial theory, which fights back the colonialism and seeks to redefine the position of power of the colonisers and the marginalised or the colonised. it also redefines the identity of a postcolonial nation.

from the perspective of postcolonial theory then, the Occident has no right in asserting its power over the East. true, the europeans brought with them modernisation, but it came at a great expense - the loss of our national treasures. the civilisations of the colonised are as great or perhaps, greater than the europeans - India's civilisation dates back thousands of years before, the Africans also had their civilisation just like we the malaysians had our civilisations hundreds of years before the Brits came.

so why do we prefer the western cultures then? why do asian women colour their hair blond or red? why do they wear skimpy clothes? why do we want to copy them, when we have our own values? this is another way of how hegemony works - the hegemony of the minds.

education is a means of freeing oneself from the hegemony.

we're a postcolonial nation which has redefined our identity. no one should tell us how to talk, how to eat, how to dress, how to act. we live according to our moral values.

be proud to be a malaysian.

sweeping statements on health services

i have a colleague who does not go to government hospitals because in her opinion they give mediocre service. she prefers to go to private hospitals instead.

i, on the other hand, have no qualms in going to government hospitals. my late brother was a good senior medical specialist, and now his son and another nephew of mine are doctors. i believe in them. of course, we cant deny that in some circumstances, tempers will start to fly, but still, i think they're quite okay.

last year, i went to a private dentist and had my molar removed. unfortunately though, she removed the wrong molar. i still felt pain in my molar even after my other molar was removed. so, i consulted my oldtime friend, who's a dentist in australia. she asked me if the dentist took an xray of my molar. what xray?? after hearing my answer, she advised me to go to the government dental clinic. which i went a few days ago.

i went very early, expecting a huge crowd. but this is a district clinic, so in no time i was ushered in. the dentist probed here and there, told me to get an xray, and then proclaimed that my molar wasnt rotting, it's just the case of gingivitis and that regular flossing will do. still, she had some drilling to do. believe me, nothing scares me more than the drill and the sound it makes. i survived the ordeal, and was pleasantly surprised with their warmth and professionalism.

the moral of the story? you dont need to spend hundreds (or even thousands) of ringgit to seek medical care. the government hospitals are getting better in terms of their services. as for me, i thanked my friend for her advice which saved me from having another still-in-good-condition molar removed.

kudos to the dental clinic of jalan air jernih!

on diet (again!)

now that i dont have anymore CDC or LPM courses, i am able to continue my lifelong project, which is to diet. the word sounds awful, as any woman can tell you, except of course, for anorexic looking models and those who can eat a horse and still look gorgeous.

i've been eating healthily, which means a lot of vegetables, fruits and nuts. and of course, the usual exercise. but the tragedy is that, from time to time visions of delectable food come to my mind - like secret recipe cakes...and roti canai...yum yum...i can still resist secret recipe cakes, because the topping can just kill my desire (hmm...on second thought) but today, after craving for roti canai for days... i succumbed to the temptation and had one. and to make up for extra calories, today i walked 2.7km, thanks to my neighbour, who pushed me.

well, i guess having a walking buddy (same kepala, same wavelength) helps. so hopefully this time i can stick to my diet (although one celebrity said you have to cheat once or twice in oder to make your diet work)

tailored to your needs

although i sometimes believe in feminist theories (like equality and stuff), i'm much a conservative girl, which means the feminists wont like it when i say i like cooking and sewing (as they deem such activities as burden being thrust to the womenfolk by the patriarchal society).

i may be able to whip a tiramisu or make fresh croissants from made-from-scratch pastry, but unfortunately, much as i want to be good at sewing, i simply fail miserably. in short, i suck.

i was influenced by the presence of a mother who is the perfect housewife who cooked and sewed for the family. and that's not all. my sisters took ERT at school while i was the only one who took Commerce. so i had no basics in cooking or sewing.

but now that i'm a adult i find that i like to create something because it s therapeutic. however, unlike baking a cake which lasts only an hour, a sewing project can be tedious and time consuming. i still have an unfinished embroidery project and another unfinished very colourful quilted comforter (stashed somewhere in the mountains of cottons that i bought).

one of the legacies that my mother wishes me to have is her beloved Singer. it's an old sewing machine, dated from the 60s and to make it work, you have to exercise your feet (rock the foot pedal to and fro). when i was younger, she used to scold me for making a mess with the thread and the bobbin until the machine was stuck. so you see, i dont really get along with the sewing machine.

but that didnt deter me. i have this wonderful idea of cutting cost by sewing my own curtains. yep, you heard me. sew me own curtain (as jamie oliver might have said if he's a tailor instead of a celebrity chef). i had problems with the first set of curtains - which is for the dining room. the fabric is nice, it speaks volumes of drama. from afar they look like curtains, but dont get too close and scrutinise the stitches. buoyed with "success", i then decided to sew a set of curtains for my mother's room. the result? well...i guess mine would have been picasso's version of curtain. my mother gave her opinion, but nothing could be helped. she did say that if i ever want to change the living room's curtains, i should get professional help.

last month i had 3 days break, and i decided to sew a nightgown for myself. and because i had no basic knowledge of whatsoever in terms of sewing clothes, i bought the cheapest cotton so that i wont feel bad if i mess up. i did mess up, not once but many, many times. i already cut the cloth but then i realised that it wasnt according to the measurement, so i called my sister for help. she said that i must have a template and then started to get technical "you take your measurement then plus 2 inches..." i didnt listen to her after that. i did make a template, and despite my mother's warnings that the gown looked small, i boldly sewed it and was ready to try it on. only to find that i was stuck like a sarung nangka inside my nightgown. had to call bibik to take it off.

so now i'm back to sewing curtains, this time for my own room. okay, my sewing has improved, but still, dont scrutinise my workmanship.

well, i'm only human, after all.

stuck in the rut

i've just finished marking papers and it was a big relief. i was procrastinating, and i knew that i've had enough of scrutinising students' essays....at least, at this time of the year. school hols is coming soon, but i had emptied my "coffer" for my summer tour, so travelling anywhere is out of the question. unless....hmmm...

and worst, my outlet for chanelling my creative energy has been temporarily suspended, since my microwave went haywire 2 months ago. the poor old thing (which has done a lot of "jasa") is now at the service centre. no baking....no more homemade breads....no more spur-of-the moment cakes...or pastries...so now i channel my energy into buying roses (as was my passion years ago).

and all this requires money, and in trying to be an organised person, and a more financially adept person, i finally keep track of my spending by jotting down every purchases i made [but so far it hasnt helped to curb my spending :o( ]

harry potter mania

back when i started my MA, i pompously told one of my nieces that harry potter series was meant for kids, and not for adults. the writing was very british, and i couldnt understand the fascination.

until i started my dissertation. reading homi bhabha was very trying, and i needed a lighter read. and so my niece recommended harry potter and the sorcerer stone. which i devoured hungrily in a few days. then i read another. and another... until i became a fan (though not a diehard fan). i watched all the movies and believe me when i say, the movies dont do the books justice because so many parts were cut off.

when order of the phoenix was released, my niece was attached at the company who brings in harry potter series. she reported that things got ugly at kinokuniya as people jostled to get the books. some even spent the night there. the same happened at mph midvalley, although the purchase was done in peace. i spent 2 days reading the book, only coming out from the room to eat. i cried when sirius black died and could feel harry's pain (though he's a fictitious figure).

when half-blood prince was released 2 years ago, i had to go for a course, and i read between slots and at any available time i had. finished in 3 days. i cried when the beloved dumbledore died.

and yesterday, i got my copy at 8.10am. started reading the book in the afternoon, and finished this afternoon. i nearly cried when fred, tonks and lupin died. but i'm glad that harry, despite the burden he carried, came out victorious with such grace and maturity. most of the questions were answered, and my perception of snape changed. harry does become a great wizard, not because he is as great as voldermort, but like dumbledore, he's honest, brave and humble. i love the epilogue, although in a way, i feel sad, because this is 19 years later, and all of them are adults and married. this is exactly how i felt when the i watched the last installment of LOTR, the return of the king.

it's a peaceful world now for the wizarding community and the muggles, a time for laughter with friends and families. it's time to say goodbye now. there will be no more anticipations for more books on harry potter. and so i will relive the moment by reading, re-reading, re-re-readin the book...

the french attitude

as i set yahoo as my default homepage, i usually scan the yahoo news. and i glanced at the headline a few minutes ago - and was (still am) greatly amused. the headline? "mayor wants parisians to be more polite". at last, somebody of their own flock finally noticed how things are in paris.

some are in denial, saying they are "nice". if you happen to be a bus driver and reply curtly "je ne sais pas" in response to a question posed by a tourist without so much of a "je suis desolee", then i'd say you ARE in denial. if you happen to be a person selling cheap printed reproduction of original paintings to tourists and you shout at them when they try to find shelter from rain at your kiosk, then i'd say you're heartless. malaysians are much more courteous than that. and not only the mat salleh french who are rude (and proud), it's also the asian french (or probably holding working permit) who are rude. this is exactly the scenario laid out by Frantz Fanon in his book Black Skin, White Mask - the black wants to be whiter than the white, in his every action and mannerism.

in paris, despite the famous landmarks, i felt alienated and displaced. totally unwelcomed, especially since i wear tudung. of course, there are some nice people, but it's not often that we meet friendly ones.

being rude is also a form of oppression. hopefully the parisians remember why their ancestors fought for their freedom and to really observe their motto.

my birthday

today's my birthday, and for the first time i didnt feel like celebrating it. well i did have a cake, but the heart's not in it.

my mother's been hospitalised. she's suffering from haemarrhoids and has diarrhoea, and it's sad to see her in that condition. it's even sadder to see the treatment they give her. in the end, i gave some of the nurses a piece of my mind, and i told them that she must be informed of everything (an unspoken message : my mother is not provincial or a pleibeian, and she's not stupid) at this time, i wish my eldest brother was alive so he could reprimand the nurses and the junior doctors, the way he did - as the senior med. specialist.

at this time, i recall what i used to think about people. when we're in our prime time basking in our glory, people will come to us seeking for help, fawn over us, and have smiles for us. but when we cease to hold the position, the power is gone. there are no more people asking for favours and no more smiles. it makes you think if sincerity still exists.

i am, stronger than i was a year ago.

a year ago, i was still reeling from a broken heart.

now, i'm more perseverant. and wiser. and happier (in a way). i'm glad i made the journey during the school hols, because it made me see life in a different perspective. certain rudeness still fires me up, just as a simple act of kindness is appreciated. just as wordsworth who sees the yellow daffodils through his inward eye, i see wild red poppies bobbing their heads in the english and french meadows and fields. so much so that i bought a painting of red poppies.

i am a daughter who loves her mother, a teacher who inspires, a writer with the soul of a poet, an art lover who loves arts and theatres and architecture, a foodie who appreciates the flavours of food, a traveller who savours the intensity of life.