Hatiku melekat di Kuala Lumpur !

Surprisingly, i think I'm falling in love with this place. Haah. never thought i would say that, i still do miss KL of course..tanah tumpah darah whattt...hahaha..no, partly it's  because KL is home, it's familiar, it's where my family is, where my dad is rested, where friends are just a phonecall and a cup of coffee away. It's home.
And Brunei is starting to be home.

And Sometimes, Love Just Ain't Enough.

He was once the man of your dreams that you just can't  stop thinking about.

He was mine.

I wanted to marry him in July, July 29th to be exact, just because I love the number, and I love him! My summer wedding to my forever love!


I used to steal a glance across the crowded hall, just to know that he is there, though he might never notice my presence.

I was the girl no one notices.

But I didn't care. I only wanted him to notice!

And one day he did. I remember looking up from the mundane task I was doing in the trip that we participated in and our eyes met. My heart stopped. Many times before, from our previous encounters, my heart just beat so fast I swear I was going to die from palpitations. The painful part would perhaps be the fact that he would never have guessed. I could be suffering a stroke here ( or whatever happens to you when your heart pumps too much blood?) , right in the middle of this coridoor, and he would never have guessed. He would perhaps think that agh another one who misses her breakfast! But this time, right at this moment in time, as I looked up from the kettle of some tea I had to make, and saw him looking at me with that look on his face, I knew it, there is that part of him that notices my presence. It could just be a tiny speck, but it gives me a whole hoover of hope.

So we took the chance of our whirlwind romance, i know i might get flung, thrown into the air, and crash to the ground.

broken.

But he has made me whole, being broken would just perhaps be physical. My heart is whole. I had him, I had his heart, the world could crumble, yet it would still be paradise in my eyes!

Ah..the foolish of youth!!

I didn't know then that the scar that i get from the wounds of a broken heart would be eternal. That it would not only be a matter of getting up and dusting down myself. If only it was that easy. What i didn't know was that how that rendezvous would be the measuring stick of my future happiness. Regardless of what happened between me and him, how messed up we were after every fights, how weary,  I would look back onto these happy years, often wondered, could I ever be that happy again? The paradise that I lost, we lost.


I dooddled his name to mine, His and mine, imagining the countless hari raya cards we would be sending to friends, along with our children's names. Sulaiman, Serena Maryam and Imran. Our three kids that we got within 8 years of our marriage. Sulaiman would have his eyes, oh basically his everything, Serena Maryam would just be little me ( I am a bit full of myself) , and Imran would be the perfect combo of our genes!

We would be happy. Why wouldn't we? Isn't love enough?


Sometimes, on the nights that I lay in bed restless, like tonight, I never ceased to wonder that.

Isn't love enough?


P/S: Good for an intro for a short story?

Because I deserve Grace as my middle name!

Yesterday, I decided to be a bigger person and let go of my anger.

For the past 2 years,  I've been habouring this anger towards these group of people whom I happened to be related to. It might not be a big deal to them, of what they are doing to me, but it's a huge deal to me. Because to me a family should go beyond "just because we're related" either by blood or marriage.

Ostracising people, keeping them out of your life though you might be unfortunate enough to be related to them either by clan or law, is unacceptable to me. How else do you foster good relationship or family bond if you are just going to be very cliquish ? Seriously, sangat high school punya perangai, though those who are involved are perhaps nearing menopause.

The truth is, your maturity is not defined by your age nor academic achievement.

Yes, am rambling. Sebab sangat tak puashati. But yesterday, i just decided, what the heck. I bought a few extra things when I went for a holiday last month and though at first I thought, why must I be generous with a group of people that does not deserved my kindness (i read a few bitchy things they said about me and some we even making some insensitive remarks about my dad on the day of his passing) Memang WTH la...

 But then again, I thought about maybe, and I am pretty sure about this, I have, in the past hurt them too with my actions, either I meant to or not. I might have been careless with their feelings, and have, in the innocence of my youth and excitement of things have perhaps, put myself first and foremost.

That, and also because, I'm just too tired to be bothered about petty things. If they think that bonding with me is not something that they feel vital in order to create a family harmony then, just let time does it job. I can't force people to like me or involved me in their tight-knit circle. I try not to take it personally, i try. Because maybe they do not mean it personally, though when I found out there were
2 people who specifically wanted to not include me, I was pretty hurt. Despite trying to remain very casual about it,  sometimes, I still do wonder why and start to think the worst of me and then, them.

But, at the end of the day, you go, hidup ini singkat, nama kau Dollah, tak nak kawan, sudah!



Inhale, pin-up my hair and sip my coffee!

Yes, I whine!

It becomes a burden when your heart is no longer into it. Sigh. I love my job, I love my workplace, I just don't love the pay!!!! Yeah, I know some may say teachers are supposed to be candles, burning themselves for the sake of others. Who authorised that btw? Some guy who wants to make teachers feel better (er...I don't) or some guy who wants to shut teachers up for whining about pay, thus creating a pseudo belief that we are supposed to sacrifice ourselves, our needs and fancies so that others can bloom, flourish, grow, fly, soar...

Would the sacrifices we make be all worth it? All those stay backs in school  so that the jerk who doze off in your class can be personally tutored by you all over again? All those time your kids are left in the care of some bibik from 7 am to 6 pm everyday , so that you can make a person of someone else's children? Praying at the same time that bibik doesn't try to feed your child cooked cat's brain  juz because you refuse to raise her pay to the ridiculous RM 800, and because you reprimand her for watching too much sinetron?

It's sometimes not worth it coz parents can also make your life hell. They give their kids all sorts of crap advice and pampered them too much, and worship the ground they walk on just because they do so well in exams.

It is also sometimes not worth it coz you do get some rude, ungrateful bunch who can only know how to complain.

The Musings of a Culinary Challenged Mom

It's been almost a year. Me being a homemaker. My husband and children has endured my horrible culinary skills, horrendous housekeeping and at the same time putting up with me being monstrous and ghoulish at times. Sigh...my aim is to be a calm n composed mom...how la! Anyway, I've. decided to keep a blog to see how far i have come especially in the cooking area. My mom never trusted me in the kitchen and I don't blame her for it. My attempts to cook anything as decent as masak kicap always end up in a disaster and the dustbin. Yes, I am that stoopid. 

In my first few months becoming a SAHM, hence having to cook consistently for the family always end up with me being frustrated and angry for being so stupid. The taste is inconsistent, one day it's alright, the next day it's blerghhhh! Not to mention the many food I've wasted due to excessive buying and only using it once. 

Now, though I am still pretty much dumb in the kitchen, but there have been a few food that I managed to 'master' and it could come out pretty decent. My masak pedas. And the secret is? To blend the shallots and garlic and ginger together with the small dried shrimps  known as udang kering. And maybe a bit of galangal. You see, the thing is I think my mom had told me once that was how she does her masak pedas/sambal but I guess I did not pay attention  enough to remember that method when I do my cooking. And the thing about cooking is that you have to keep doing it, to learn from it. Mistakes are there for you to learn from, though there are days you feel that how could someone with tastebud could even get this wrong? And how could you correct on that mistake if your attempt for the recipe take the span of months in between? Last time,  when I was working and juggling motherhood and wifehood at the same time I only cook for like once or twice a month. Bad eh? I know. Looking back, I find it unbelievable that I did not try harder to provide my family and myself some decent,  safe and healthy food. Joe is the type yang tak kisah. No time to cook? We eat out. Bad bad bad. Had I married a man yang "ohhhh I mesti makan kat rumah" I would have perhaps put Nigella Lawson to shame I 'm sure, or..er...ended up divorced. 

Nevertheless, I am still faraway from being a decent cook. I still have my stoopid kitchen days, where everything just go horribly wrong and you just feel like throwing the pots and pans out of the window. But at least now, my baby steps are sometimes rewarded with "oh...ok next time perhaps kalau I buat macam ni...I need to put extra basil..."for example. The directions is a lot clearer. And Em makes less faces now when she is made to sit and eat her meals.

Today i'm making Thai green chicken. let's see how that'll turn out!

Vegan Cake from now on!

Baby Ai has allergy and now I have to make some changes to my diet. Good thing about this place I am staying is the fact that there are many Mat Sallehs around, so the supermarket seem to cater for them a lot. Loads of imported stuff from Oz or UK and that also means they cater for those who are vegan and gluten intolerant as well. So, it's all about reading the labels for me now!

I had such craving for cakes that i admit, i did steal a bite of Em's carrot cake we bought from Coffee Bean and felt so guilty for darling Ai later. So when Joe came back that evening from work I handed Ai to him and told him I gotta go and find something that is edible for me which wouldn't harm Ai. So I went, reading labels at the aisles slowing down, taking my time. And was i excited to find a box of gluten, wheat, egg and nut free instant chocolate cake mix! i did not not have a mixer at home but i didn't care! I would mix with my own bare hands if I had to!

And that night, i managed to satisfy my cravings though i didn't think the cake turn out well, as, on top of  not using electric mixer, I also did not have a kitchen weighing scale to measure 15 g of olive spread. Belasah!

Hm...I guess i need to address the issue of my cravings for sweet things fast!

I shall upload the pathetic looking-but satisfying cake later!

Mundane updates!

This little town yang I bermastautin now takdelah besar mana. A little bit like Kota Bharu 20 years ago..haha. So since there's not much to do, Joe n I decided to join the local sorta Country Club. Actually, I pun malu nak sebut country club, kang bunyi nye gahhh sgt, posh sangat. But it was alrite, pretty decent. Got the usual, pools, kandang kuda etc. There would be ample of activities to keep little Em occupied. Sone  parts of the buildings have a 70s aura/ early 80s aura to it. But so are most buildings here. Not complaining, as at times it takes me back to the time when I was a kid.

So, yesterday, Joe n I bawak the kids to the club. As it was pretty late already, almost 6, and it was quite windy yesterday, I don't fancy Em to have a swim. Surprisingly, my suggestion was met with a nod and she said ok, I'll go to the playground, Mummy Human. That was odd. I thought she would scream murder and be throwing tantrums upon the suggestion to stay away from the pool. 

So Joe took the kids to the playground, and I went to the library. He he. Nerdy kan. Just nak checkout and since i am thinking of volunteering at the library, i might just see how things are. So in I went..hmm..they've got some pretty decent number of books, but not that variety of choices. They got DVD sections n was hoping to see classics like Breakfast at Tiffany's or something, but to no avail. I so wanted to get '10 things I love about you' - u noe, the one where The late Heath ledger was teramatlah hottienya tu., but i felt, mestilah nak kena create first impression yg best kan..afterall, since kununya nak volunteer kat sini..do I want them to know me as the lady who rent a teenage flick? na-ahh!

I borrowed Mansfield Park.

And a book about Queen Victoria.

Out of genuine interest ok..bukan sebab  nak feeling2 royal!

Dummies for Parents

Another negligence claimed the life of an innocent 3 year old. He was accidently left in the car by his dad, who went around completing errands, sempat minum2 lagi. I can't imagine his guilt. Having to live with that for the rest of ur life. It could even cause him his marriage. But yg tak I rasa sangat la tidak patutnya, all the comments that follow suit. Dah dalam FB kan, banyak lah keypad warrior nye. Most of them are youngsters, kalau ikut kata my friend yg vulgar sikit ni, kencing pun tak lurus lagi. But yeah, it's always easy to make judgment of the errors of others. It's not us who have to live with the sorrow, sadness, heartbreak of losing a child. As a mother, i rasa  the words sorrow and sadness tu pun tak boleh nak justify the amount of your pain.  Anak you tak ada depan you dah kot. Patah hati, sayu, pilu, hanya Allah yg Maha Tahu. And what's gonna make it worst, in your head, you would be playing, over and over again, your child's painful last hour before he dies. At moments like this, only janji Allah yg dia akan menguji kita dengan sedikit ketakutan, kehilangan anak dan harta  benda, that is the only thing that could perhaps keep you sane. Because other than that, how can all these make sense?

It is however, not a license that we, as parents could take things for granted. Mata kena everywhere bila ada anak ni. I tell you, berapa kali darah i menyirap tahap lemah lutut bila Em suddenly, elok2 setengah milisecond sebelum tu berrdiri sebelah I masa i sibuk melipat stroller Ai, and the next thing I know, she's standing behind a reversing car. Or, like what actually happened at a fren's condo, she was standing on a chair menjenguk over the verandah from the 8th floor. I froze in terror, and it was a my fren Jill's good reflexes ( being a mom herself) that prevented on what I would not even dare to imagine.
So sense of alertness mmg kena tahap gaban bila ada anak. With regards to the unfortunate parents,as much as  their judgment could be questioned, to me it is just an unfortunate incident that no parents would want to go through.
But how about dumb mistakes done by parents out of sheer stupidity rather than negligence?  i have witnessed Malaysian parents do far worse stupid things with their kids. Sapa tak penah tgk mak/bapak bawak keta with anak atas riba? Or let the child stand on the passenger seat while they
drive?
Itu kalau nak kutuk, silakan, because that deserves  dumb parents award of the century.
Have you ever thought what would happen if the car suddenly come to a jolt? That your precious innocent child would be crushed to death to the wheels? Or, in the case of standing child, would easily be thrown out of the car? You don't have to learn /understood the concept of inertia to get that simple fact. i am sure at least once in your  life you have had experience being a passenger in a car which suddenly brakes. Tu kita yg mass boleh tahan ni, imagine anak kecil.

Apparently, many  people do need "Common Sense for Dummies"  guidebooks. That is perhaps the tragedy of many Malaysian parents.

a Harrased Homemaker soon?

I should perhaps change the name of the blog as soon moving to Brunei and becoming a stay at home mom. Kinda excited with the prospect of running the household in complete sanity as opposed to now, running it with complete chaos . Making breakfast for Joe and the kids, then sending off little Em to her school while little Baby Ai is sound asleep in the stroller. Bliss!!

Knowing me, do expect nothing of that sort.

I have come to terms with the fact that I am hopeless in housekeeping, we had a house helper when I was growing up, infact we had several helpers as during that time house helpers were abundant. Local ladies, many from the rural areas were more than willing to work as house helpers (they are sometimes called maid, but I personally do not like the term). Leaving their kampungs to work in towns means bringing more income to the household, but to some, the prospect of working in offices or factories are downright challenging. Malaysia was pretty much an innocent nation back then. So, the best bet was to work as house helpers. Our Kak En stayed with us for 25 years, from the moment she was in her early 30s till a stroke attack at the age of 60 plus forced her to call it quit. 

So I told Joe, look for house helper if you still want a sane wife at the end of the day.

We're leaving Malaysia next month. There's a part of me that is feeling pretty sad. It's not that I have not left home before. I left for England when I was 18 and enjoyed myself tremendously for the 6 years that I was there. I know of Joe's sense of wanderlust. Infact, that was one the things that I found very attractive in him. His desire to go places. And I relish at the fact of raising my children in an environment that is different from their usual one. Even though it's Brunei. And I get to look after my kids, which is something I"ve always wanted to do.

Yet, I still feel sad that I'm leaving. My family. My mom would come and visit often, that I know. She can't bear to be away from her two little monsters for too long. Especially Em. Whom she favours more than her own children! It's not gonna be the same as seeing her every two weeks like right now. And my brothers. We live across each other currently and on some days, we annoy the living hell of each other, yet, they would come to my aid be it anytime of the day and I love them to bits and they know it.

I will miss our home. This intermediate terrace plonked in the middle of Shah Alam.  My neighbours are horrible people who like to park anywhere they please, so, yeah, not gonna miss them, but a home is still a home. We had our 1st child there, we had her birthdays, her milestones were marked in that little terrace house .  My dad's last few weeks were spent at my house, I entertained and looked after him in that house. We had our father-daughter' s chat there, in front of the telly. I hugged him there and told him he would live to see  Em graduates varsity. He laughed off and said 10 years is good enough. He didn't live for another ten years, but the memories I had with him there will forever be in my heart. As for it being our marital home,  we had our happy moments there, as much as it had witnessed Joe and I fighting over trivial things that  only married couples know. We perhaps had conceived both Em and Ai in that house. 2 out of the 3 toilets are broken and the walls have cracked- as most houses in Malaysia- and it has Em's drawing everywhere. The kitchen is crowded and the kitchen door is jammed,  Yet, it was ours.

I haven't packed a thing. Okay, so, yeah, that is more because of me who likes to procrastinate, but partly, as much as I wanna say "Helloo Brunei!" I also find it very hard to say "Goodbye, KL".

In a shitty Situation ..again..

Harassed teacher has to leave school early as had left  Child's diapers at home and sent child to nursery without extra diapers except for the one child is wearing when being sent today at 7 am . Child is now in the nursery perhaps being wrapped by some banana leaves/old newspaper or worst soaked with soiled unchanged diapers. Harassed teacher has no one to blame but only self as stayed up to watch Liverpool terrorising Chelsea the night before and woke up late today.

Home Sweet Home

 My love hate relationship with Kota Bharu begins as far as my first memory takes me.  A town that, in my younger eyes, offers me nothing (friends were mostly in KL and since most of my school holidays was spent in KL the huge difference between these two places were enormous) a town where everything is in slow paces and the hippest place where me and my teenage friends hang out was this supermarket called Hankyu Jaya. Supermarket...when did u last used that word?!
Ask any 90s teenagers of Kota Bharu, they'll speak of Hankyu in this reminiscing, nostalgic tone. We had Grandy's there back then, a very cool porridge outlet, I don't remember Mac D or anything like that and MIDORI, an ice cream parlour. Kinda reind me of Pop's from Archie.My first date was at this particulour eating outlet called "Rasanak" ( Rasa Nak). Can u imagine that? Make sense for an eatery, but way too humiliating for a  dating scene. The word Rasa Nak alone would take away any sense of romance and if you eventually marry the guy whom you dated at Rasa Nak (lucky for me I did not), that's not gonna be the story you want to tell the guests at your wedding. They would probably laugh, thinking that you're joking. Unless that's the effect that you want.
Anyway, back to my earlier point, It's love -hate for me because, often enough I compared Kota Bharu to KL and because of that I lost any sense of wonder that I have of that place. Plus, the Kelantanese, we are loud, and we speak in a language that can only understood by another fellow Kelantanese and known to be very cliquished. All those things,as  pointed by my non-kelantanese friends, caused me to want to detach myself more from Kelantan. I never denied that I was a Kelantanese but I never really allowed myself to think of Kelantan/Kota Bharu in that sort of way. To me it was just the town I grew up in.Other that that,  I don't have anything to do with it. Putting it bluntly, I can't really help where I grew up right?
Memories are funny aren't they? Things that u are not aware of would one day creep up slowly into your subconscious and there..it becomes one of your most significant memory. It's funny how certain time at mid afternoon (around 2ish) that specific time would alwiz bring me back to the afternoons I spent at my late grandparents house in Jalan Telipot KB. Or some breeze could touch my face as I watered the plants in my house's  compound in Selangor  and that, that very moment, that breeze, that moment, would just take me back to my childhood days in Kota Bharu.
Now, that KB becomes the town I 'visit' during holiday breaks, the town that awaits the arrival of me and my siblings come Hari Raya, and dutifully waved us away after a week, I sense myself craving, pining for its recognition of me as its 'people'. As I passed by the little old shops along its streets, memories of me with my late grandad, him holding my arm (a very funny way to hold someone's hand i thought, but here was a loving man who had trouble expressing his emotions) as we crossed the streets, as I drove pass some old eatery outlets my parents had brought me and my brother Bo to when there was only the two of us, or passing by the streets that are now being turned into a parking space for some hypermarket, I can't help feeling lost and yearning at the same time. My years of displacement that I brought onto myself have turned its table. It wasn't only memories that causing me to get all nostalgic.They don't get called roots for nothing. Hometowns are like mom's cooking or parents' old big  bed. They give you comfort no matter what life throws at you.
Yes, we can't help where we grew up, I'm sorry KB that it took this long for this cik mek to come home.

If only death knocks before it makes its grand entrance...

Today, a collegue's world collapsed. Her husband, involved in an accident about 3 weeks ago, succumbed to the injuries and left her with three kids to look after, to continue living, to pick up the pieces.
Suddenly I found myself crying, sobbing and my heart went out to her. I don't know Anna that well but we had been thrown in the same committee to run a school function's about 2 years ago and would say Hi everytime we passed by the corridor. I sobbed for the three fatherless children, I sobbed for a friend whom at the age of 35 lost a husband, a friend, a lover. Most of it, I sobbed for myself. I sobbed for the uncertainties that life holds. I sobbed for the fear that I too could be her, as death is the only certainty we have. That I too, could lose my husband, that all of a sudden I could be a widow. Life is that fragile. And all the anger, the little things that bug you about your spouse, that he never takes out the thrash unless you ask him to, that he never bothers to hang the towel after using it, that he never really understands why flowers are a big deal to you, that when he eats, he makes that small annoying noise and that he could never sit through a movie with you because he would fall asleep half way through, all those things would not matter anymore. All that you want is for him to be here, next to you, till your eternity, praying that that eternity would stretches way into the unseen future. Growing old together, annoying each other ways that only people who have known each other for more than 50 years can know how.
Sadly, for some of us, the journey ends earlier and one party is left to lick the wound that perhaps would never heal. Every love story has a sad ending, and today, a friend discovered hers.

The day began at 5.30. I woke up in a jolt. Am i late? I screamed out. That's pretty normal nowadays, if u are wondering, I often made Joe jumped, waking up like a psycho like that. My head of department is less than impressed with my tardiness. Easy for her to say, she got less class tahn me!! Went to bed late last nite, scrambling to finish marking exam papers. I know I got no one to blame but myself, but, oh tryyyy to read these students essays and tell me if u're not gonna go bonkers having to reread the paragraphs over and over again.  English is not their first language, but looking at their attempts, it look like English is not a language at all to them. Joe stirred. 5.30 he mumbled. 5.30.
I went downstairs to make myself a cup of coffee and vowed to start the day early and relaxing and be all composed and gorgeous when I get to school. Always envy of all those teachers that managed to arrive in school with immaculate make-up and not even a line of crease on their dress. Me? Half of the time I arrive, hair's everywhere, make-up nowhere.
Hmm..5.50..I still got time, I thought as I sipped the coffee..so refreshing! Could never function without coffee. I put my feet up on the footstool and closes my eyes for a brief while.
Damnned!!! 6.37!!!!!!! I'll be late for school!

Dream Teaching- taken fm Tok Workshop Handbook 2002

I am first in line for coffee
and the copier is not broken yet.
This is how dream begins in teaching high school.

First period the boy who usually carves skulls
into his desk raises his hand instead
to ask about Macbeth and for the first time,
I see his eyes are blue as melting ice.
Then those girls in the back
stop passing notes and start taking them
and I want to marvel at tiny miracles
but still another hand goes up
and Butch the drag racer says he's found the meaning
in the Act III soliloquy. Then more hands join the air
that is now rich with wondering and they moan
at the bell that ends our class and I ask myself,
"How could I thought of calling in sick today?"

I open my eyes for the next class and no one's late,
not even Ernie who owns his own time zone
and they all have done their homework
that they wave in the air
because everyone wants to go to the board
to underline nouns and each time I turn around



they're looking at me as if I know something they want
and steady as sunrise, they're doing it all right.

At lunch the serpentine food lady discovers smilling
and sneak me an extra meatball. In the teachers' room
we eat like family and for twenty-two minutes
not one of us bitches about anything.



Then the afternoon continues the happiness of hands
wiggling with answers and I feel such spark

when spike-haired Cindy in the satanic tee shirt
picks up the right pronoun and glows like a saint.
And me, I'm up and down the room now, cheering,
cajoling, heating them up like a revival crowd.
I'm living only in exclamatory sentences. They want it all
and I'm thinking, "What drugs are we on here?"
Just a crusher Granorski screams, "Predicate nominatives
are awesome!" the principal walks in
with my check and I almost say, "That's okay,
you can keep it" When the bell sounds
they stand, raise lighted matches
and chant , "Adverbs! Adverbs!"
I drive home petting my plan book.

At night I check the weather without wishing for blizzard
then sleep in the sweet maze of dreams
where I see every student from years of school days:
boys and girls, sons and daughters who're almost mine,
thousand of them stretches like dominoes into the night
and I call the roll and they sing, "We are all here, Mr. Romond!"
When I pick up my chalk they open their books,
look up and with eager eyes , ask me to teach them.

-Edwin Romond-


I encountered this poem in one of those handbooks given out at one of the teacher conferences that I attended. Everytime I read this poem, never without fail, I will have a lump in my throat as I get to the last stanza and eyes all welled up at the line "...sons and daughters who're almost mine". So, I thought, okay, shall put this up as my first entry, coz it will alwiz remind me, harassed as I claimed to be, deep down inside, I know, this, teaching, is home, this is where perhaps I want to be.