The Night the Tiger Roared.

I am not a football fan. Never was and never will be I guess. But the past one week, I have been tweeting and googling Harimau Malaya and researching Ultras Malaya on my BlackBerry till I can’t feel my fingers anymore.

It was by accident, this sudden enthusiasm for our national football team - Harimau Malaya.

This unexpected interest and intense passion for wanting and needing the Harimau Malaya to win was fuelled by harsh criticism and jeers coming from certain parties, especially those written on Twitterjaya.

Leaving out the petty insults thrown at us, I realized that this match made me more patriotic than ever.

For me at least, it was no longer a match to prove who was stronger or which team was more skilled. It was a fight for our Malaysia, our country, our nation and our people. Aint nobody be talking bad about my country.

They roared, we cheered and somehow along the journey, we became one, regardless.

It wasn’t about winning anymore. It was defending our honour, our dignity.

So I have to thank you. To the team, the people behind the team, the loyal supporters that call themselves Ultras Malaya, and Malaysians alike, thank you.

An Indian coach with his Chinese assistant, a Malay captain, a Japanese yakuza looking goalkeeper and an Indian Muslim manager (hope I got my facts right), they have the coolest of heads to win at the most hostile of environment.

I believe that deep down in each one of us, it wasn’t just about football. It’s our way of saying that we do fight back and that our pride for our nation runs as deep as yours for your country.

It’s nice waking up to all that positive energy coming from last night’s win. Perfect end to the year and the perfect start to 2011.

And the Ultras say;

Tanah Tumpahnya Darahku.

Berjuang hingga titisan terakhir. Martabatkan nama negara.

Faith

....And then I realized I do have faith. Faith in myself.

Faith that I would one day meet someone who would be sure that I was the one...

Neither a beginning or an end

I realize that it is still kind of early to be writing about the year end. It’s still November... still another full month to go.

Somehow, I’ve always been melancholic come the year end. I don’t exactly know why, I just know that I am.

Today, after staring hard at the calendar on the table, it hit me that the year is about to draw the curtains. As the year draws to an end, I couldn’t help but to pause for a moment and ponder – ponder on the  paths that I’ve chosen to tread upon, the friends that I’ve chosen to surround myself with and the memories that I choose to keep.

Have I made the right choices? I honestly don’t know. But choose I did. It’s the choices I’ve made throughout that have brought me to where I am today.

I guess, on a personal level, the New Year is in some way, a mark of how far I’ve come, from where I’ve been and how far I would still have to go.

Some say that New Year does not make any difference to them; they say it’s just another day, another X mark in the calendar.

For me, New Year is a time frame, a mark, an indication.

For one day in the year, the New Year is a breather. One day, out of the 365 days, for me to just stop for a while. To stand still and see myself a little more clearly, before the next day comes and we all push ourselves again, in our quest to maybe become a better person, a better friend, a better wife, better husband, and strive for a better life.

I’ve accidentally made plans for the New Year while browsing on the net for cheap flights to Brisbane next February.

No, no crowds this year, no staring up at the sky looking at the colourful fireworks. Not this year, this year is more subdued, quieter. This year’s ending will be spent somewhere on the outskirts of the city. In a room perched high on hill, overlooking a garden - a room with a balcony, where I plan on having my first breakfast of the year, where I will be saying quiet goodbyes to all that has happened this year and where I will build new hopes for the future in the quiet comforts of my own company.

Year's end is neither an end nor a beginning but a going on, with all the wisdom that experience can instil in us.

Hit Search

 

I have to admit that I cannot image life without the Internet.

There are advantages to it, like googling the name of a potential boyfriend material to find out whether he really is still single as what he claims to be or searching for digitized scraps of information about that ex from long ago-I’m not really sure how googling about an ex would be an advantage though. To any ex of mine who might actually stumble upon this posting, no, I did not just google you.

The downside to all that available information? Knowing what you shouldn’t have known about in the first place.

Like, I know this is going to sad a tad bit pathetic – finding out from Facebook how extremely pretty The Syed’s wife is, how happy he looked sitting next to her on the dais or the fact that The Syed got engaged in December 2008 while he was still very much seeing me everyday and running up his phone bill every night whispering sweet nothings to me.

Now that I know, I honestly wished that I didn’t. What I don’t know wouldn’t hurt me…

No, I did not just cyber stalked him recently. I cyber stalked the moment I received his wedding invitation which was many months ago, not the same thing right? No?

Lesson to be learned? To leave things as it is. Life was a little less complicated without the easy accessibility of Google’s search button.

Raging War

It’s time to pack my bags again. Up and down, take off and touch down. Click here and click there, review, delete delete delete.

I used to have a wise Sudanese friend. Past tense as I don’t know where he is right now or how he is. I do hope life is treating him well and that he has settled down, with a wife and kids.

We used to trade stories of ourselves; the normal likes and dislikes, our favourites and not-so favourite things.

He was an engineering major in UIA and I was an Education major in UPM. What made us click was the shared passion of books and literature. It was through him that I discovered the beauty of Rumi and of Kahlil Gibran.

I remembered asking him once, “why didn’t you major in English? You have so much passion for it.” Although I didn’t quite get it back then, I was only 18 mind you, but his reply was one that I have always remembered. “I think I would start to be miserable if I were to be getting paid to do what I love”.

A decade later, with him nowhere in sight, I am beginning to unravel the hidden depth of his words.

You see, there was once a time that I was contented scribbling away on pieces of paper, in a diary, on a blog because I loved it. I loved it so much that I left a stable and secure job of seven years to do what I am most passionate about.

I still love what I do and the future of promised opportunities. The only difference is that now people start to have certain expectations where this passion of mine is concerned. They have a right to do so, I’m not denying that, since those are the hands that are feeding me. But when the expectations and the critics’ starts to roll in, I couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed and my enthusiasm and morale star to sink further down the well.

Some tell me not to take it personally, that it’s part of the job. I do try. But I was flailing and hanging by thread a few moons ago, trying to make some sense to what I was going through. I kept asking myself, “So what should I do??  How can I keep work and play separate?”

But the truth is really actually very simple, if you love your job and it allows you to express your creativity, you are going to take it personal every time someone wants you to do it their way. I just have to learn to deal with that. After much thought and pondering and a bit of soul-searching, I came to the conclusion that if when I am passionate about what I am doing , I will tend to  be frustrated when someone asks me to do it a different way, but what is most important is...is that a reason not to do what I love doing?

I’m not miserable, just to put the record straight. But it was an internal battle fighting for what I love. Now that I have reached a conclusion, I know how it should be. All is well and life goes on. At least the colleagues are entertaining. That’s another story. Remind me one of these days.

I’m flying over the causeway tonight to where the Merlion stands. I think he might be lonely standing all alone spurting water every now and then.

Abe's Advice

Whatever you are, be a GOOD one.

Another Phase

I’ve been through phases of personal frenzy. There was once a frenzy for scrapbooking - I scrapbooked every piece of photograph found around the house. I spent countless hours embellishing and matting pages according to themes.

There was even a dedicated scrapbook entitled “Faces from my past” which from the title one can guess that it was plastered with pictures of ex’s  (that’s a plural) and me, movie ticket stubs, pressed flowers, love letters and notes, lyrics of what used to be ‘our song’ and even break-up notes. I’m still not sure what I’m going to do with that particular book. Sell it for scrap perhaps?

There was another period of personal frenzy which involved a lot of sports equipment - badminton racket, and a tennis racket, a pink golf set, roller blades and Frisbees, which they are now gathering dust, stored away in the far end of the storage room under the stairs.

I’ve entered another frenzy phase the past two months. Cooking, baking and collecting recipes. Not that I don’t cook on a daily basis, but being single, living with family and a helper around the house, cooking is not that much required from me – and I eat out a lot.

But the past two months, I’ve cooked, I’ve baked and I have filed away recipes according to categories. Julia Child would have been proud of me. I have also bought kitchen utensils – food processor, garlic press, icing bags and tips, cookie moulds, zester,  cooling rack, various sizes of baking dishes and pans - some of which I might never again use once this frenzy of mine phases out.

Amidst this cooking and baking frenzy of mine, I have discovered something.

There is something comforting and much joy to be found in cooking and baking. The whole experience and process is somewhat therapeutic to me.

 I love the wafting smell of butter, cinnamon and vanilla, the homey ambience it creates and the anticipation as I watch the batter rising slowly in the oven whenever I bake.

 The sound of ladle and spatula cling-clanging against the wok, the sizzling sound of onions and garlic as they begin to change colour, the fragrant smell of spices and herbs and the flavourful combination of all the ingredients makes cooking pleasurable and enjoyable.

Cooking, however, gives me much more freedom as compared to baking. I love the free flow of ingredients that goes into the pot, altering flavours as I go along. I don’t use measuring cups or spoon, everything is by taste.

I have made egg tarts, blueberry cheese tarts, cheese cake, nasi bukhary, trifle for dessert and an assortment of colourful Hari Raya cookies just to name a few.

What I love most from this cooking frenzy of mine is that I get to share the food with my family and friends and I can safely conclude that the joy of cooking lies in every single person which can either be the love for cooking or the love of appreciating the result of cooking. In the words of Oprah Winfrey, “My idea of heaven is a great big baked potato and someone to share it with”.

It’s not such a bad frenzy now is it? This cooking and baking. If only it would last ;)

p/s: Who says single people can’t cook?

Will I Ever?

Carrie : Will I ever laugh again?

Miranda : Yes!

Carrie : When?

Miranda : When something is really, really funny.

Sex and the City

The Proposal

This is the part where I’m supposed to be sitting hidden behind a door, eavesdropping and giggling and thinking “finally, a marriage proposal”.

I would be making my first appearance to the soon-to-be in laws with a tray in my hand, laden with a pot of tea and a plate of kuih. I would then shyly and demurely cast my eyes downwards, dutifully and oh so gracefully serve everyone the tea, while they in turn would gawk at me and I would finally in a voice that is slighter louder than a whisper, invite them to drink, “jemput minum,” while slowly backing away, heading back to the kitchen, to continue to eaves drop and giggle a bit more.

That was how it was supposed to be or at the very least that is how I picture it in my mind.

Bordering on hilarity and maybe insanity, depends on which side you look at it, the situation which presented itself upon my family and I took me by surprise...and can I say that it completely knocked my socks off!

I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. But I remember laughing, loud breathless shrieks of laughter. Maybe I was able to laugh about it because I have never met the guy who was seeking my hand in marriage. A friend of a family friend I think. Must be the work of my aunt. I know, so like the slot Cerekarama TV3 every Saturday.

“tu la, anak saya ni memang nak kawin. Biarla nanti ada orang jaga makan pakai dia ni. Gosok baju, basuh baju. Ye la, terjaga la sikit dia ni. Ni sekarang makan minum pun tak tentu arah. Nanti bila dah kawin, sedap sikit hati saya ni tahu ada orang masak untuk dia, berkemas semua untuk dia ni ha,” says the mother of the supposed-future-husband-of-mine.

And to which my mother, very nonchalantly replied “saya faham maksud akak. Tapi saya nak mintak maaf la bebanyak. Anak akak ni sebenarnya perlukan pembantu rumah, bukannya isteri. Seorang isteri sepatutnya berkongsi hidup, macam kata omputeh tu, don’t walk behind me but walk beside me. Saya tak nak anak saya jadi pembantu rumah. Ish, dia ni masak pun tak pandai, lagi nak ngemas rumah. Eh, jemput minum kak, sila la rasa kuih raya apa yang ada tu ya”

My mom rocks but I think this is one of those moments when the advice "choose your words wisely" should have been taken into account. The things we say, although we don't mean it, could have a different affect and effect for the other person.

 And for the record, I am very much capable of cooking and cleaning and I can be very domestic shall the need arise.

Just so you know.

No where else but here

If some people would just stop politicizing Malaysians for just a moment, if they would just stop and look really hard maybe they would realize that deep down, we are indeed 1Malaysia.

Selamat Hari Malaysia.

There is no where else I would rather be than here.

Winds of Change

I like to begin my sentences with ‘sometimes’. It feels like I'm floating through a whimsical fairytale.

Sometimes change is good, or so they say.

So I’m making a change. I’m moving address.

My new home would be here. Just in case you didn't catch that.

http://storyofcinta.wordpress.com/

Sincerely Yours

There is no kampong to be going back to this year. Grandmother dearest will be spending Hari Raya here with us in good ol’ Kuala Lumpur this time around.

We’re starting new traditions.

I’m expecting arrivals from Singapore and Johor anytime now. No, not anytime now, I need time to make the house presentable. Give me ample grace period please dear aunts and uncles. Time for me  to sweep everything under the carpet and maybe under the bed.

Although it feels kind of weird not to be going back kampong, like we normally do, but I think it doesn’t matter where you are. What’s important is the people celebrating it with you.

Yes, I’ll miss the thundering explosive sounds of the meriam buluh, the shrieks of my little cousins, the harassed feeling I get whenever they try to mow me down, the constant flow of guests that come in droves to visit my grandmother, of which I have to add, would turn me and my sisters into wild and frantic bibiks-making sure that the kuih raya jars are constantly replenished, drinks to flow non-stop and amidst all that chaos, lunch and dinner will still need to be cooked and served. Yes, I’ll miss that.

But it’s ok. They’ll be on my turf this year which means I get to have a say. “Pergi tolong cuci pinggan, jangan terabur makan kuih, ha! Lompat lompat, cubit karang”...I can be that but where’s the fun without the shrieks and yells. It is Hari Raya after all.

So...

Selamat Hari Raya to you, where ever you are, be it in Kelantan, Pahang, Terengganu or even California, have a blessed Eidulfitri. Mohon ampun dan maaf, zahir dan batin jika sekiranya ada tersalah kata, terkasar bahasa selama ini.

Be safe on the roads.

September Rain

Really. Where did August go? It's September already?

Mean Machine

A guy to gym coach: "I want to impress this cute girl I'm meeting in three days...which machine shall I use?".

Coach: "Use the ATM machine outside the gym...".

You Complete Me?

Intermittent pauses between completing PowerPoint slides for a work presentation, writing articles which were long overdue, sipping on really strong coffee and a large sugarless ice tea, there we were, 2 girls, sitting in a crowded coffee place, complaining about the heat, checking out cute boys and back to complaining about the heat.

After a few exchanges of commentaries and analyzing why the heat was so in palpable, the conversation took on a different turn.  From weather commentaries to commentaries on boys to figuring out one of many life’s mysteries - a sense of belonging. And it suddenly poured outside, from where we were seated, we could see the drops of rain. No wonder it was so hot.

My coffee partner, who shall be known as BlackCoffee henceforth, because she likes her coffee bitter and black, is living a life that is still, as she described it, pending. I can’t really describe things in detail as its her story, and writing about it would be like violating copyright protection rules. Her life story is copyright protected.

Ok, now I’m beginning to wonder how I am supposed to continue with the story.

Contemplating divorce, the question that arose was, “am I doing right thing?”. I was taken aback, kind of heavy stuff for a rainy Sunday evening. I looked at her, honestly not knowing what to say. No, that’s not exactly the truth, I knew exactly what I wanted to say, with complimentary  facial expressions thrown in, considering my strong aversion to the husband for the things that he did to BlackCoffee and the kids.  But who am I to judge? I can only say what I think is right, but push comes to shove, it is her life, her marriage, her call.

What lingered on my mind was what she said later as she looked hard at me and expressed what she felt inside “I like the feeling of being complete. That my life is whole. The husband, wife and the kids.”

I get what she was saying. I think I do.

But I can’t help but wonder, does that make me incomplete? Single and all. Is that how many married couples out there sees a single girl out and about, as an incomplete entity in society?

I remember reading a comment on Facebook. A friend congratulated a newly married friend-congratulations! Welcome to the real world. Err, I seriously thought that I am living in the real world as it is. 

Maybe it is one of those cases of  " I know you think you understand what you thought I said but I'm not sure you realize that what you heard is not what I meant" I perhaps may have interpreted it the way it was not supposed to be understood. Maybe, perhaps.

But it does hurt sometimes, to have people say that life is not complete without a husband and kids, that I have not been living in the real world, that my life is much simpler being single, that my problems, my issues are meaningless and insignificant. It hurts to hear comments from married friends when they un-tactfully say " oh I don't know what I have been doing all this while, running around town, pretending that all is fabulous, being single when in actual fact life was so meaningless. You should get married already". If it was that simple, I would have. Trust me.

That is just not fair. But then again, sometimes they say that life is not fair. Maybe I’m on the wrong side of the balancing scale. Maybe I have to hop on to that ‘In a relationship’ bandwagon stat if I want to know what real life is.

Now, what is that dating site I once wrote about? I better hurry and register myself. ;)

Romantic fool that I am, I don't  support the notion that 'you-complete me'. I'm much more inclined to believe that ‘I-complete-me’ while ‘you’ complements the perfection.

p/s: Cinta at the moment this entry is written is ok with being single. Marriage is an ever-after affair, a lot of thought should be put into it. Singles have the right to be choosy. We learn from the mistakes of our married friends who are living in the real world.

Predictably Unpredictable

An old friend called me yesterday. We’ve known each other since we were sixteen. I can't remember how we became friends exactlt as we went to different schools. Me in one of those schools where my seniors would blow up toilets just for the fun of it and being chased by one of the teachers in the midst of cutting school is a norm. He, on the other hand, went to one of those preppy institutions, where they wore preppy white shirts with preppy white trousers and preppy black shiny shoes. A preppy boy in a preppy school, with predictable flying colors exam results with of course a predictable future in the line engineering. Everything about him is predictably predictable.  But his preppiness and my gangsta-paradise of a school background did not stop us from being friends.

So yes, he called yesterday. Which was alse predictable. Only the conversation was not so predictable which caught me off-guard.

Preppy boy : Have you updated your blog?

Cinta : No, not yet. I don’t know what to write about.

Preppy boy : It has been a while right?

Cinta : Errr....yes

Preppy boy : You should just announce its death. Shut it down.

Cinta is rendered speechless on the unpredictibility of his line of thought.   

Un ía a la vez.

When I first started Single in KL, I was optimistic, and positive.

I wanted to stay positive because I wanted my life to be filled with all the good things in life. Good vibes attract good things and good people. I believed in that. Whole heartedly. I saw the good in the bad and though everything wasn’t peaches and creams with cherries on top, I urged myself to see things as colorful as they can be.

But that was then, many moons ago.

I have been in denial for the longest time. Telling myself that whatever is happening will eventually fade away. If only I could figure out the ‘whatever-is-happening’ part. I’m still confused and I am still trying to figure out this empty feeling inside myself.

No, I am not referring to my non-existent dating life at the moment. I admit, it gets kind if lonely sometimes. Not, not sometimes, most of the times. Especially on cold rainy evenings such as today. *sigh* I don’t know…But I do know it is not because of the lack of dates.  No, not that.

There are so many things that I wish I could say here, to let the words flow onto the monitor but I can’t. I always believe that whatever is said or written, whether intentionally or unintentionally, could or would hurt people. Family and friends. I don’t want to do that. I don’t believe in that. I’m more traditional and I believe that I have a certain responsibility to the things that I post here.

Hence the lack of posts the past few months. I can’t think of anything nice to write about.

More often than not, I find myself laughing less and frowning more and even the wrinkle lines have even started to show.  I’ve been seeing less of my friends and family and when I do, even my own laughter sounds hollow to my own ears.

Life is so predictable at the moment. Work, home, the occasional dinner and work again the next morning with the occasional travel thrown in between. I am thankful for that. To be allowed to see the beauty of life, of nature and of people from all over but something is missing. 

I don’t know…I don’t know…I don’t know…

I don’t even know where this post if headed. Maybe if I am honest to myself, and admit that life isn’t a colorful rainbow right now, maybe I can move on and figure out what went wrong.

Tell me that it is human to be feeling what I’m feeling right now.

In the meantime, have a meaningful Ramadhan. Maybe I get to see the little girl with the strawberries sewn on her telekung again this year during terawikh. Maybe this year she’ll have flowers instead. Maybe.

un día a la vez.

One day at a time.

The Life that I Have

The life that I have
Is all that I have
And the life that I have
Is yours

The love that I have
Of the life that I have
Is yours and yours and yours.

A sleep I shall have
A rest I shall have
Yet death will be but a pause

For the peace of my years
In the long green grass
Will be yours and yours and yours.

By
British Playwright Leo Marks

Invisible you

I got home around 3.30am this morning after a 2-hour flight delay from Manila, and I’m here in the office a few hours later, groggy, drowsy and seeing everything around my workstation in two’s. As much as I was tempted to stay in bed when my alarm struck five this morning, I had to remind myself that I promised the boss to come back on Tuesday, rain or shine when I wanted her to sign on the dotted line saying that it was ok for me to disappear for three days leaving only two of my colleagues to hold the fort down, in the land where they sing to the tunes of Malaysia Truly Asia, where assignments come in at the very last minute and deadlines were supposed to be met yesterday instead of a certain point of time in the near future.

But it is not Manila that I want to write about at this particular moment. Wonderful as it was, I’m keeping that for another entry.

Maybe it’s just me and my weird sense of how I see the world around me. It is a matter made up of a purely trivial and mundane issue, but it bothered me none the less.

With the world being as connected as it is now, having maybe all 3 or 4 of our messenger applications turned on round the clock on our BlackBerry, iPhones and what nots, it is sometimes good to just be invisible.

I see you but you can’t see me. Or just maybe, I don’t feel like talking to you. Isn’t that part of the charm of being invisible? Now, if only this cloak of invisibility would somehow work in real life.

Anyway, maybe due to the lack of sleep, I found myself easily irked and somewhat irritated by the simple fact of a friend choosing to be invisible on her messenger. Actually, it wasn’t because she was invisible that got me on edge, but in some weird sense it was because she was invisible, and yet kept on buzz-ing and ping-ing me for a response. I don’t see you, remember?

One would probably roll their eyes at me right now. Making such a big fuss out of this whole invisibility business.

It’s really simple actually. Being invisible lets out a certain message that you are in this cave where you choose not to be reachable. If you choose to go under the cloak of invisibility, it is best that you stay that way. Should you choose to come out of hiding, then there is this little button where you can alter you presence here on the World Wide Web. Choose who you wish to communicate with, and then have the courtesy to appear visible to them. Communication is a two way thing.

Life is simple. Really, or did I just make it a tad bit difficult and confusing? Excuse my ranting and raving. I need to sleep.

Hopping on a Train

It's never easy, especially on cold, gloomy, rainy afternoons like this. But you soldier on anyway. You have to, or you'd miss the train, and trains never do wait for you.

It's July already. Really. I wouldn't want to miss the train.

Ba'kelalan – The Land Where Rainbows End

Images by: Seth Peli of Seth Photography

Fahmi Aziz

Cinta

The 45-minutes flight on MasWings twin otter plane from Miri provided a mesmerizing view of the long stretch of green terrain below with miles of lush tropical rainforest painting the landscape of Miri. Deeply lost in my own thoughts as I sat there gazing at the scenery below, I knew we were nearing our destination as the plane started to descend and stretches of paddy fields can be seen dotting the village of Ba’kelalan.

Coined as the Heart of the Borneo escapade, Ba’kelalan is situated about 3000 feet above sea level, and 4km from Kalimantan, Indonesia. The charming and rustic rural village of Ba’kelalan comprises of 9 other small villages and is home to about 1500 Lun Bawang people.

Three beautiful Lun Bawang girls, heads adorned with yellow strings of beads and dressed in their traditional black costume which set a startling contrast against the azure blue sky of Ba’kelalan greeted me as I stepped down from the small aircraft

The welcoming ceremony did not stop there. As I headed towards the Apple Lodge, which will be home for the next four days and also literally situated right next to the airport, I was greeted by the melodious voices of the people of Ba’kelalan, young and old, singing the tunes of “Ba’kelalan My Home Sweet Home”, a reflection of the harmonious culture in Ba’kelalan. Tapping my feet to the uplifting beat of the song, I felt myself feeling at home amidst the the sun shiny warmth of Ba’kelalan.

Only in Ba’kelalan

Ba’kelalan is well known because of its apples. Yes, only in Ba’kelalan are you able to find locally grown apples. The cool and refreshing highland air makes Ba’kelalan the ideal, and in fact, the only place where apples are cultivated in Malaysia. The Ba’kelalan apple story began some time back in the 1960’s, when Andrew Balang Paran brought back 50 apple seedlings from Kalimantan, Indonesia. It was only 5 years ago back in 2007 when Pak Tagal and his family decided that it was high time Ba’kelalan has its own Apple Fiesta. Held yearly from 6-8 May, the Ba’kelalan Apple Fiesta brings about a festive air throughout the normally quiet and peaceful village. It is during this 3 day fiesta that the villagers will get a chance to showcase their talents at singing, dancing and even demonstrating on how to make apple pie from scratch. This is also an opportunity to visit the apple orchard and be fascinated at the apples wonderful colors of green and red. Consisting of four varieties with names such as Rome Beauty, Manalagi, Ba’kelalan and Cherry, bite into any of these apples and you will find yourself wanting more of the juicy sweetness and soft crunch of Ba’kelalan apples.

Apples and a bit of adventure

But apples aren’t the only main attractions in Ba’kelalan. To me, what defines Ba’kelalan is the endless warmth and genuine smiles of the people. Wherever you go, either taking a leisurely stroll along the paddy fields in the warmth of the evening sun, or sweating it out and hiking to Bukit Sarui to take in the wonderful sights of Ba’kelalan, you will always be greeted with a toothy smile and sometimes toothless grins (depending on the age) of the villagers, and if you’re lucky enough, after a few curious glances and smiles, you will have your own personal entourage of kids from various ages, showing you the sights and sounds of the village.

Breathing in the fresh air and watching the kids playfully chase each other around the paddy field; there is an element of serenity surrounding the village. However, don’t be fooled by the quiet tranquillity of Ba’kelalan. Adventurers in search of the beaten track can expect for the challenging terrain here to live up to its expectations especially during tropical rainy season. The Borneo Jungle Safari (BJS) offers an adventure trail package which promises to get your heart racing and adrenaline pumping. This would be a good opportunity for you to test your off-road driving skills. If you are up for a roller-coaster ride in a 4WD, you can enter Ba’kelalan from Lawas, where the off road journey would take a good 5-6 hours, depending on the road conditions. Be prepared to camp out if the roads get treacherous especially during those heavy rainy seasons. If you’re an avid tracker, a five hour trekking expedition through the jungles of Borneo will lead you to the border of Malaysia-Kalimantan.

Village-hopping

While the images of mud tracks and rivers are appealing, I very much preferred a less strenuous activity. Spending a whole day visiting 3 villages around Ba’kelalan, I took the opportunity to learn more about the people of Ba’kelalan and immerse myself in the Ba’kelalan culture and lifestyle. I was even lucky enough to witness a Lun Bawang marriage ceremony. There was relentless teasing from the crowds as the mock bride and grooms shyly took their designated place as husband and place at the front of the room. What is a wedding celebration without a traditional dance routine? All the guests and myself included was then dragged to dance along to one of their traditional dances done at every wedding ceremony. I could see from the smiling faces on everyone present that they were having fun and a little bit drowsy perhaps from the endless cups of rice coffee served to us at every village, but that’s Lun Bawang hospitality for you. Serving the guests the best of what they have to offer.

Head-hunters

The thing that I love most about Ba’kelalan is the passion of its people. The passion that they have for the land they call home. I could hear it in their voice, see it in their expression what Ba’kelalan means to them. Over a steaming cup of tea on my last night in Ba’kelalan, Mutang and his band of brothers circled me and began narrating stories of Ba’kelalan from years gone passed down from generation to generation. It was a story of their people; their tribe. They began their story saying that hundreds of years ago, many tribes in Sarawak were head hunters. Tribal fights occurred because of revenge and the power over territory. When a warrior is victorious, a ritual dance would take place around the perimeter of a crocodile or “Buaya Ulong” erected from earth. The warriors would then be chanting incantations relaying the story of the fights and how they were victorious. It gave me the goose bumps, listening to his story while in my mind I was imagining a warrior, looking down at me from a hill, challenging me. I was shaken from my reverie when told that there are still a few sites of these Buaya Ulong intact around the village. I didn’t need to twist anyone’s arm when I asked to be taken to one of these sites the next morning. Mutang was very much eager to show me around, proud and very passionate of sharing the story of his people.

Rural golfing anyone?

My late night conversation with Mutang also led me to the discovery of a 9-hole natural golf course right there in rural Ba’kelalan. I challenge those golf enthusiasts to have a go at Ba’kelalan’s Highland golf course as it is made even more challenging with natural hazards such as rivers, paddy fields and jungles. Don’t expect a club house or buggies to be made available here, but you will find yourself loyal spectators in the form of buffaloes. Yes, buffaloes but fret not, these buffaloes will be herded away from the course if there are any players on the green. Granted, buffalo dungs will be scattered here and there and if your ball goes into the dung, the good thing is that you get to take a free lift! A plus point of playing on this natural gold course is that you will be able to take in the beautiful scenery of Ba’kelalan as you play. If you are interested and up for the challenge, a two weeks notice is needed by BJS in order for them to prepare the green and fairway.

Where rainbows end

No one is a stranger here in Ba’kelalan. I was constantly greeted and smiled at and not forgetting the centre of constant friendly bantering and teasing from Kading and Lisa, two locals who made sure that I had a comfortable stay there at the Apple Lodge. Ba’kelalan may not be able to offer a luxurious five star retreat, but what it does offer is a simple lodging with basic amenities.

I have always wondered where rainbows end, what amazing things can be found at the end of such beauty. As I was flying out of Ba’kelalan towards Miri, gazing out the window, looking at the twin peaks of Mulu and wondering when will I ever come back to the warmth of Ba’kelalan, I saw a beautiful rainbow across the blue sky, I did not scramble to take out my trusted camera as I just wanted to take in all the beauty of Ba’kelalan one more time before I go home. As cliché as it may sound, I left my heart back in Ba’kelalan, bits and pieces of it with Mutang, Bulan, Kenny, Edwin, Sultan, Freddie and all the wonderful people.

A few days after, back in busy Kuala Lumpur, I thought of Ba’kelalan. I sent a text message to Freddie back in the village, telling him how much I miss the people that have now become my friends and family. His simple reply made me ache more to go back. He simply said “come home”. I found where my rainbow ends, and it’s in the land of warmth and sunshine – the land of Ba’kelalan.

GETTING THERE:

Maswings flies to Ba’kelalan four (4) times a week.

Monday – Lawas

Wednesday – Miri

Thursday – Lawas

Saturday – Lawas

In support of the Apple Fiesta, MASwings increased their direct flights from Miri from once a week every Wednesday to three times a day, four days a week.

USEFUL WEBSITES/CONTACTS:

1. http://www.borneojunglesafari.com/

A Reason, a Season & a Lifetime

I’m due to fly to Medan again tomorrow. Luckily it’s only an hour’s flight away. I don’t think I am able to stomach anymore airline food. I’ve filled up my quota of intakes on airline food this month.

A dear friend jumped like she was on fire when I told her I was leaving tomorrow. She must’ve jumped to the conclusion that I was running away of a broken heart judging from her rapid-fire series of outburst as to why I shouldn’t run away, and how that time will heal all pain and the default statement designed for heartbreaks that I will eventually meet someone new. I found that amusing and endearing at the same time. That she could care that much. But no, I am not running away of a heartbreak or heartache, least of all to Medan. If I were to run away, it would be to some exotic destination, say maybe somewhere like Mauritius or Mabul Island, where my fruit punch will come in glasses with miniature umbrellas on them.

This is my closure, I’m penning down the final words of this chapter in my book of life. Then I’m putting away this chapter under the bed for it to gather dust for hundreds of years to come until some archaeologist will dig up the site and find the book containing this chapter. They can then study what people from hundreds of years ago did when dealing with a broke heart ;)

The Syed;

What he did was wrong; the dishonesty on his part, but I have always believed that everyone has a reason for doing what they did. Whatever his reason is, I don’t want to know though. I however, do believe that he was there for a reason.

I’m actually happy that the Syed was a part of my life. He was there to listen when I needed him to. He was the one I turned to, the one I shared many laughs with and of course bitter arguments. He made the days a little bit interesting, a little bit fun.  For all that, I was always and forever be grateful to him.

So here’s to you The Syed. I believe you came into my life for a reason and only for a season. Whatever the reason may be, I thank you. I’m not that sad anymore.

A Reason, A Season and A Lifetime

People always come into your life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime.
When you figure out which it is, you know exactly what to do.

....

When someone is in your life for a REASON,
it is usually to meet a need you have expressed outwardly or inwardly.
They have come to assist you through a difficulty,
or to provide you with guidance and support,
to aid you physically, emotionally, or even spiritually.
They may seem like a godsend to you, and they are.
They are there for the reason you need them to be.
...

Then, without any wrong doing on your part or at an inconvenient time,
this person will say or do something to bring the relationship to an end.
...
Sometimes they die. Sometimes they just walk away.
Sometimes they act up or out and force you to take a stand.
What we must realize is that our need has been met, our desire fulfilled; their work is done.
The prayer you sent up has been answered and it is now time to move on.
...

When people come into your life for a SEASON,
it is because your turn has come to share, grow, or learn.
They may bring you an experience of peace or make you laugh.
They may teach you something you have never done.
They usually give you an unbelievable amount of joy.
Believe it! It is real! But, only for a season.
And like Spring turns to Summer and Summer to Fall,
the season eventually ends.

...

LIFETIME relationships teach you lifetime lessons;
those things you must build upon in order to have a solid emotional foundation.
Your job is to accept the lesson, love the person/people (anyway);
and put what you have learned to use in all other relationships and areas in your life.
It is said that love is blind but friendship is clairvoyant.
Thank you for being part of my life.
.........
Now, I need to pack. Will be experimenting with my DSLR the next four days and take some shots with nice bokeh. Off to Medan.

Turn around

Now that the crying and feeling sorry for myself part is over and done with, I am now angry and I want to kick The Syed for doing this to me. Angry. Extremely angry.

I cried.

I still remember.

6 years ago, you left a note on the windshield of my car.

“Sometimes, the best things in life cannot be seen or heard but are felt in the heart” 

You signed it with your name, The Syed, and a number for me to call you back. The rest they say is history.

This morning, however, I cried.

I cried.

I cried not because I found your wedding invitation addressed to me in my mailbox the morning after your wedding, and I had no idea that you even had a fiancée, or that you were getting married.

I cried not because when you called to say you were supposedly touring Europe, you were in fact busy getting married.

I cried not because you are now someone else’s, and you will never be mine. I let go of that dream and hope a very long time ago. During one rainy afternoon when I asked where are we headed and you truthfully said that we are not meant to be. I accepted that. We became friends.

I cried not because during those last movie dates together and I mentioned who would I be watching movies with if you decide to get married in the near future, you didn’t say anything, and I thought I’d still have you for a few more moons.

I cried not because of the countless of weekends spent together, countless late night conversations, countless dinners after work, countless supper and countless journeys together discovering new places to eat, and I wouldn’t be able to do that with you anymore.

I cried not because while you were supposedly touring Europe, I was patiently waiting for you to come back. I was missing you.

I cried.

I cried because when I texted a congratulatory message to you, and my hands were shaking and the tears threatened to fall,   you said we can still go out for movies together. That’s not me. I wouldn’t do that.

I cried because though you had a moment to spare to come over to my house to drop the card in my mailbox, you couldn’t spare a moment to call or see me and tell me that you are getting married.

I cried because after 6 years of friendship, I was still not a friend to you. A friend would know when a friend is getting married.

But  mostly,

I cried because you didn’t give me a chance to say goodbye to you. To us. To our twisted friendship together. I cried because I just lost my best friend.

Only to realize that I wasn’t yours.

I’d better be getting home now. I’ve been here all day. Thinking, then crying. 

The barista here in Coffee Bean Mont Kiara is going to  start thinking that I’m homeless.  The shredded wedding card is still on the table.

For a Moment

I get to spend this weekend at home, the first in a long time. I have books that I bought at Chowrasta Market in Penang that I haven’t had the chance to read, a few DVD’s that I’ve bought and stored somewhere, hoping that I might find the time to watch them while snuggled under the duvet with the lights dimmed low.

I haven’t walked around Lake Gardens or Kiara Park in the evenings in ages. Maybe I would drop by the Kuala Lumpur library tomorrow, to sit and write at my favourite spot overlooking Dataran Merdeka where the flags will gently sway against the breeze. I haven't cooked in a very long time. I think I might have forgotten how to. I've been missing my gamelan classes as well cause it's on a Sunday and I haven't been spending a lot of Sundays in KL the past few weeks.

I’m looking forward to the weekend.

So I’m hoping that where ever you may be, you will enjoy your weekend as much as I will be enjoying mine.

Lots of love,

Cinta

As I See It

Voila! I unveil to you  http://single-in-kl-travels.blogspot.com/

It's actually still a work in progress as I try to balance my chaotic and disorganized life. An extension of what and who I am here, I needed a different space to record the places I see and people I've met , from my perspective, my words and through my lenses.

The first few entries are a mess, truth be told but I just needed to get a few posted up to get things going, or it will never go anywhere :)

Eye-Candy

The-Mad Hatter Cinta

"But I don't want to go among mad people," Alice remarked.


"Oh, you can't help that," said the Cat: "we're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad."

The Cheshire cat, Alice in Wonderland.

I’ve caught myself being judgmental over another person one too many times. A simple glance, an odd phrase, an out of place character, an odd-sounding sneeze and Mr. Hyde will take form and start to preside over my thoughts. Dark, smoky and venomous thoughts cloud around my judgment.

However, the Mr. Hyde side of me has been undergoing intensive therapy for the past two years. Countless hours have been invested, trying to eliminate Mr. Hyde, training to think positive thoughts. Bucketful of negative vibes have also been hurled out the window, sending it fluttering away against the wind to a land far far away undiscoverable by humans, unknown and unheard of.

A conversation with a friend however had me pausing and reflecting in the midst of busy mid-week rush hour traffic. I distinctly remember arguing and trying to weasel my way out of another attempt at matchmaking. Only this time, no aunts or makciks are involved. Only a few friends, who will be getting a cut of commission from the dowry money if things decide to work out well and on that note, I need an escape plan if things do work out unexpectedly well. I made that offer a very long time ago, when I was much younger, none the wiser and most probably high on the sugar rush from unlimited amounts of ice lemon tea on a night out with the ladies and marriage was a coveted fairytales-do-come true occasion amongst us singles. Well now that I’m way PAST that phase...

So as I sat there, listening to why I should do it and laying down pathetic reasons why I should not, among them being; what if he likes to eat fried chicken legs with mayonnaise? Or he likes to wear selipar jepun on a weekend to The Curve? He listens to Backstreet Boys and memorizes every one of their songs or maybe he has manicured and pedicured nails, and prefers to eat his barbecued chicken wings with a fork and knife instead of doing the manly thing and use his fingers? Maybe he likes to name drop and brags about the time he played golf with some royalty or maybe just maybe, he likes to read Ahadiat Akashah and Judith McNaught romance novels?

I stopped mid way when it suddenly dawned on me, there I was, being judgmental when I have yet to even lock eyes with the person, when it actual truth, I am the one with the weird quirks and idiosyncrasies.

I have a record of scaring away dates with preaches on the sanctity of marriage and how utterly important it was for a spouse to be loyal, on a FIRST date. For crying out loud, who does that on a first date?!!

I have also had the gut-foolish (I just invented that word) to give out fashion and hair advice which I am positively certain it came out sounding rather condescending, which wasn’t my intention in the first place. I am rude as I pick up calls in the middle of dinner, I like to play with my straw, and I sometimes forget my manners when I place my elbows on the table. I am foolish enough to do that on dates.Any takers? To compensate for my lack of social grace, I believe I cook a mean asam pedas. Nobody will ever be hungry when I’m around. My friends can vouch for that.

The thing is this, it got me thinking, I’m not even sure if I got my point across; I cannot judge a person to a set of beliefs or try to conform them to a mould which I believe is politically or socially correct or incorrect, whichever way it is. Sometimes, I don’t even know right from wrong, what is accepted and what is not. Most of the times, I’m just being myself. I listen to Craig David and I think he’s hot, I love watching sappy romantic movies and even have The Holiday stored in my iPod, some people can’t handle that. Too much romance they say.  I like to bite my lips and stare off into space when I’m thinking, and I can’t get my act together-don’t know what to order in posh restaurants. Apart from that, I love my pink selipar jepun and I think they’re funky and I like flopping them around One Utama and The Curve every weekend. Oh, watch out for my hand gestures when I talk, cause I do a lot of that as well, to the point of overdoing it. Hope my friends aren’t embarrassed by that, as I have been prone to hit a few innocent passersby with those extreme acts of self expression.

So, I was thinking, if I promise to accept you as you are, will you accept me as I am, weird and clueless at times? Life would be dull without us filling it with odd and uncanny quirks and idiosyncrasies. I say, bring on the friend chicken legs and the Backstreet singing boys and the well manicured nails,  we're all mad here. ;-) So says the grinning cat.

A bundle of joy.

I was actually surprised when my twitter alerted me of your presence, cause I have always had this image that you hated my guts. But, welcome…you are always welcomed into this crazy world of mine.

So I heard of the arrival of your bundle of joy. Initials HR. It’s a beautiful name. I couldn’t be happier for you and your lovely wife. No, I haven’t seen her pictures but I’m positive that little Ms. HR is as beautiful as her mother.

So you’re a father now? Wow…a huge responsibility that is, but I have faith that little HR will grow up beautifully because she has beautiful and loving parents, who will guide her and teach her from right to wrong.

Congratulations once again. My thoughts and prayers are with you and your beautiful  family.

The heart of the matter

What is the English equivalent to the word “terpanggil”? Called? I have been called to write an entry on…that sounds so jarring. Like something is missing.

In midst's of late night phone conversations and endless text messaging with friends, one conversation stood out among the rest. She asked me quite simply, how would you know that he is The One?

That got me dumbfounded for a moment. To say honestly, yes I have this imaginary long check list of criteria’s that would indicate that he is The One. Good and stable  job, so that my future children wouldn’t be heartbroken if we couldn’t afford to take them out to McDonalds, good looking, to ensure that our future children would come out looking like Shiloh, but that I know is a bit too far fetched. Other criteria’s would also include a house in Kenny Hills or maybe Desa Park City, and a stash of savings under his name with at the very least would be six digits. But that is the materialistic side of me talking, the vain part where I want to be one of KL’s socialite. Earth to Cinta. This is me being real, and honest.

I have done my fair share of the dating scene in KL. I have had really nice dates, RM200 lobsters for dinner, a drive around town, just using that quiet us moments to get to know each other better, and I have also experienced disastrous ones like what I’ve written in previous posts, and even ones that have lead to something even more profound and meaningful, these dates turning out to be among  my closest confidants, like the Pak Arab Celup.

I have also been in relationships when it was just so tiring to be in one. I lost who I am, or was, just to ensure that he would be happy with me, moulding me to his definition of perfection. It’s suffocation to be on my toes all the time, afraid that I’ll be skating on thin ice. even the simplest task of sending a text message would be daunting, afraid that my sentences are grammatically incorrect or for forgetting the proper use of capitalization and what not. I’ve been there, done that.

Then,as I was talking this friend it suddenly occurred to me that, when push comes to shove, at the end of the day, the core of the isssue, the essence of it is  what matters most to me is that the person would know how to make me smile and laugh after going through a bad day. He would just listen, even though I don’t even say a single word. Not saying a single word and yet he would understand as if I have spoken entire volumes to him.

He doesn’t push or prod, but just patiently sits there, and makes me laugh because seeing me smile and laugh is all that matters to him. 

I could be wrong, but that’s how I see it and that’s how I feel about it, from a Single-in-KL’s point of view.

No, I still haven’t found him. But I’m hopeful.

p/s: It might be because I’m in so much pain right now,  therefore my entry tends to be a lil bit melodramatic. But then again, when haven’t I been that?

Run Wild With Me

“Maybe some women aren't meant to be tamed. Maybe they just need to run free till they find someone just as wild to run with them.”

Today, we smile

Don’t tell anybody that I’m spending a quiet hour here in a secluded corner of Coffee Bean in MidValley, instead of being in the office. I have a few hours to spare after my appointment and before I am expected to be back at the office, and thought I might as well drop by and try to finish an article. I work better in a less formal environment. Excuses excuses.

You know how sometimes that in books, in Hallmark cards and philosophers or anybody with a cheerful disposition will keep on telling us that the best things in life are free, but only if we are willing to look hard enough.

I found my reason to smile this morning, not that I was not smiling before but I’m giving it some extra watts today, lighting it up a bit more.

As I was typing away, eyes wondering and roaming around at the same time, I noticed a young couple sitting outside, a Malay girl and a Chinese guy enjoying their morning coffee and perhaps playing rookie as well just as yours truly is.

It was nice watching them together, holding hands under the table, and laughing, with each other. It’s a great way to start a day. To be with the one that makes you smile and laugh.

If I look around me, there are so many reasons and so many small little things that can turn a gray sky to blue, if I can stop being cynical and judgemental and just enjoy things that makes other happy, I have realized that it doesn’t take much to get that warm glowing and tingling feeling inside.

It’s those small and simple things like today, a morning cup of coffee, freshly baked bagel with cream cheese, a glass of hot chocolate with tiny marsh mellows floating in it, and Michael Buble playing in the background.

Let go, breathe and smile. 

If you smile
Through your fear and sorrow
Smile and maybe tomorrow
You'll find that life is still worthwhile
If you just smile...

What are you doing?

Tweet with me. I'm curious to know the little details that makes you, you.

Tweeting

I haven’t been able to update as frequently as I used to. The new job is kind of overwhelming at times, and exciting and sometimes just plain boring that I have to admit I’ve been guilty of nodding off at the work station one too many time.

I’m on a learning curve and trying to get back into the swing of things. Somehow, I think I’ve heard that line somewhere ;-)

Can’t actually believe that we’ll be entering May in just a few days. Before you know it, it’ll be the month of Ramadan soon, and the frenzy of year ends will  creep  upon us once again.  How has your 2010 been? I hope it’s been good.

This post is to remind myself that I used to enjoy writing here so much. I need to write more.

In the meantime, the tweets are tweeting.

Before I Go

I know that somewhere, there are people who connected to me by blood that I do not know of, and they are unaware of my existence.

Before I go off for the long weekend break...

I know that somewhere there are people who could be my cousins, uncles, aunts and maybe nephews and nieces.

I have always wondered, and have always thought of them.

Because you see my late grandmother is Chinese, given to a Malay family.

I know that somewhere they might be busy preparing for the coming Chinese New Year celebrations. Somehow, somewhere.

Gong Xi Fa Cai

Have a properous and a tiger roaring year ahead.

I'm so excited, and I just can't help it!

I'm excited about this one particular assigment. Excited to the point that I feel like bouncing all over the place. Toing, toing, toing, toing. Err, that's the sound of me bouncing, just in case you were wondering.

A collegue is in the midst of compiling a list of tourism products that needs to be updated and sent me this email;

I’m in the midst of coming up with our product update list for 2010, to do our articles, especially Media Feature. Kindly submit your list of destinations/tourism products that you wish to cover this year to me ASAP!

If possible, be specific. Think about the angle of the story that you’re going to write. Another article on how beautiful Pulau Redang is, for instance, is seriously boring. Be more creative. So, don’t merely give me a topic like ‘Pulau Redang’. Please elaborate. It can be the luxury resorts in Redang, budget hotels in Redang, life of fishermen in Redang, etc.

And most importantly, make sure it’s something that you’re really passionate about…meaning, you’ll come back and WRITE & SUBMIT your article within ONE MONTH (hopefully!).

I was thinking that maybe some of you might have any ideas? Perhaps a personal favourite place or activity that you feel should be highlighted? Personally, I was thinking of researching a luxury package for honeymooners in Malaysia catering to the foreign market. Yea, well you know how I am, sentimental romantic fool and all ;)

But the thought of writing about the everyday lives of our local people is extremely appealing. I just need to identify an angle that is different from the rest. Random thoughts that are crossing my mind right now are doing a piece of Johor's cuisine/dishes or maybe I'll try to be more specific and highlight food from suku kaum i.e Banjar, jawa etc. Or maybe a piece on Johor's arts and culture like Zapin and Kuda Kepang.

I'm scratching my head here.

So, bombard me with suggestions and ideas.

We Match You Know

Some find the matter of match-making oh-so-sweet. Well, it would be sweet if it worked out in the end.If it doesn't work out, there is always the possibility of jumping off the highest cliff and never too resurface.  Me? I have never been a fan of matchmaking, I would rather sign up with a personal dating site rather than go through match making. Matchmaking involves a third party, somebody you know, somebody you like having in your life, until everything goes wrong during the event of the said match-making process.

I have had met various types of people in this match-making industry. Yes, I think it is an industry with the amount of time, energy and resources it involves, especially all the aunties and the makciks that has been the biggest contributer. I have had a guy who wanted to ask for RM20K from me as a loan to start up his business and I have been introduced to a duda only to have found out he actually has three wives.

I have been on both ends of a match making attempt gone wrong. I have been one to reject as well as one to get rejected by.  It's awkward, it's embarassing and it puts frendships and relationships at risk. And by risk I mean between the matchmaker and the match-makee (don't quote me, I just came up with that word). I'm positively certain that we have all, at one point or another, been turned into an experiment of this match-making business.

I have recently been the subject or maybe object of another match making attempt by a friend. Her intentions are good, noble even, you know what they say, kalau jadi dapat pahala mendirikan masjid. Well, to cut a long story short, it didn't  happen. Matches were not made...or lit. Matches were soaked with water, a big tub of water. A big, cold tub of water. There was no way that the match could be lit.

I only have one question. Why in the world would you want to introduce me to him when you are well aware of the fact that he is crazy in love with you, and by you, I mean the match-maker. This most recent attempt definately takes the cake.  I have had the guy avoid me on YM, avoid me at the local mamak when he knew that I was there with our friends and avoids me like the plague. I had to actually sit him down and explain that no, I am not interested in  you either, that no, you don't take my breath away, no you don't make my heart go into cardiac arrest  and no, you are not the object of my deepest desires.

There are two ways of how I can  see the situation. One, I could laugh it off, move on and maybe have a story to tell to my grandkids when I get old or two, I could kill myself out of embarassment or if you think that is too gory, I could just wish that the earth would swallow me up whole and I would dissapear and never to be heard off ever again. Well, I vote for the former.

I did what I had to do, I became the better person (ahaaaa), laid down all the cards, talked it over and moved on. No, I am not interested in you either so you can stop hiding from me. My life was fine even before you came along.

No more match-making attempts please. I would like to go on living each and every day with a bit of dignity intact :)

The Bill

The Reader's Bill of Rights

• The right to not read
• The right to skip pages
• The right to not finish
• The right to re-read
• The right to read anytime
• The right to read anywhere
• The right to escapism
• The right to browse
• The right to read out loud
• The right to not defend your tastes

The last right is my favourite ;-)

From
Better Than Life
by Daniel Pennac

But None The Wiser

I was supposed to turn 31 years wiser last 14th January. Supposed to being the operative word here. I’m still making the same silly, foolish mistakes when it comes to matters of the heart. The only difference is that I’m able to laugh about it rather than cry about it. Well, I did turn 31. I can’t stop the tick-ticking of the clock but as for turning wiser...it is still a work in progress. I'm guessing that it will be an on-going work in progress.

Turning 31 was done on a small scale this year, dinner at my favourite restaurant, Sahara Tent in Bukit Bintang with girlfriends who has been with me since I was still a penniless college student surviving on Maggi and nasi lemak bungkus shared between us and credit on the handphone was almost always RM0.00 hehe. Late nights were for sharing secrets and watching movies on the PC, not for studying.

That was 10 years ago.

Sandwiched in between those years shared between those friends that I love were weddings, births, heartaches, terminal illnesses, new jobs, divorces, weight gain and weight loss, but not so much of weight loss though, the gaining part seems to be more dominant, mortgage, loans, travels, the first car, more bills, court cases, old friendships gone sour, new friendships blossoming, the loss of loved ones and the search for identity and to be an individual.

I still can’t believe that 10 years flew by so quickly.

I am contented. Contented and blessed to have gone through the past 10 years. The good or the bad, the happy or sad, it has made me into the person that I am today.

I still have a many more milestone to go and achieve, so many more dreams to catch, trails of laughter and happy moments to create, and I know, inevitably, a few drops of tears to shed.

I’m very optimistic. Being optimistic attracts good vibes. They say that when you have been down so low, there is nowhere to go but up. So this is me going up. Higher and higher, eagerly wanting to see the view from the top, surrounded by the people that I love.

It’s going to be a great year. For you and for me and we’ll do good to the world, and to humankind.

I just wanted to share with you that I turned 31 last 14th of January ;-)