getting-to-know-me-part-2

You see me with my food, how i cook, how i eat. Amateur-ish really. And this is not a humble-ness expression, but a mere truth I'd love to improve.

Next thing I'd love to share is also about taste. But my taste in living and architecture. I have no experience what so ever about architecture or architecture design to that point, but for reasons I couldn't grasp, I'd love to drown myself in their very basic philosophy and actual patterns of what makes a great architecture great.

A few years spent abroad has helped to open my eyes to the beauty which otherwise seems so foreign to me. Then it occurs to me, a grand building that stands alone doesn't gonna make it any great, just like a cloud missing its evaporated water, but rather a complete blend of whole mixture of it's surrounded nature is what brings it to its ideal. And of course the building should brings the best out of people that soon to reside in it. It should be able to take care of the people and nurture them so that the experience of the design itself can make them feel at their best and thus, live a better life.

It's a bit simplistic, really.

But why do you think people spend a fortune to stay in an expensive holiday villa if not because of its elegant sophisticated design and the atmosphere that can administer instant comfort the moment you set your step in it.

No, it need not to be the over-expensive furniture or Egyptian-silk bed-linen that I want to point out here, but, how different would our life might be if we can study the philosophy and the pattern behind it and create a healthy living of our own, on a daily basis.

Somehow it dawned upon me that the warmth of the designs and honesty of its culture is what makes it's so startled.

We have plenty of rooms to talk more on this, i hope.

Maybe a little later, when i no longer have surgery credit test like the one i'm having tomorrow.

Till then.

Random chat.

[9:01:03 PM] white_tulip: Bebe, I found this from Grey's anatomy. I think its nice.

"For a kiss to be really good, you want it to mean something. You want it to be with someone you can't get out of your head, so that when your lips finally touch you feel it everywhere. A kiss so hot and so deep you never want to come up for air. You can't cheat your first kiss. Trust me, you don't want to. Cause when you find that right person for a first kiss, it's everything.”

haha. well-said right?

[9:06:13 PM] FiLiPa: Yeah, funny how such heavy weight can make you feel so light... Funny how something so pure can make you a sinner.

Art is not what you see, but what you make others see.

You know when they say that everybody; each and everyone of us, have the good and the not-so-good-side.

Well, the good side of me, the better part of me always takes place when i'm with you. I know people always use that line- 'owh, time suke mmg la sume baik' (when you're in love, you see nothing wrong with the person) , but somehow i beg to differ. I behave, I become a better me, a better daughter, a better friend, a better sister, a better doctor, not because I want you to fall for that, or love me for that only or hide my imperfection from your eyes.

Why do I want to be a better me when you're around?

I haven't had the faintest idea. But all that is clear and crystal, is I want to become someone you deserve. Someone who's heart as pure and sincere as yours. Maybe because most of the time my heart and mind are buzy clouded with greed, fear, hatred and anger that only when I'm with you those things manage to shut up and give way to a more simplistic, pure and innocent word call LOVE.

Well then again, what do I know. But if being with you makes me a better me, then I want to be with you forever. If you're the way God speaks to me, then I'll try to pay a closer attention to hear a little deeper.

Because right now, I had stumbled upon a Great lesson to know who I am a little better, from a blink of sparkle, deep through your eyes.

You're my piece of art.

And now tell me, how can I thank you enough?

A- once - admission essaY.

Destiny is not a matter of chance, it is a matter of choice; it is not a thing to be waited for, it is a thing to be achieved. Medicine is my choice, my destiny, my goal to be accomplished.

I know the journey is never going to be easy. Many times I have been reminded of the sacrifices to be made upon entering medical school. Forgoing the exciting life as a teen and giving up social enjoyment, I was told, was not an easy task. Somehow, I never fail to come up with the same reason. Picturing the life-changing moments and the difficulties that I could do better, knowing that I made a difference, have brought me this far. True, this reality had made me aware that medicine is a multi-faceted profession with a hectic schedule but seeing endurance in every personnel in the medical field observed from my attachments at the hospital, had taught me the meaning of perseverance and determination, all in the name of passion. And I dream to be part of it.

Throughout the days I had spent in the hospital, my love for medicine grew. What I saw had impressed upon me the intense yet fulfilling nature of work in medicine. However, what humbled me during my attachments was knowledge about medicine alone, is not enough to make a good doctor. Good communication skills, which bud with a smile and bloom into good rapport with patients are vital not only to make patients feel confident in fighting their illnesses, but also to tackle the very source of their problems.

I have come to realize that the beauty of medicine is not about fighting death, for death never waits, but the relationship that I’m about to implore with the patients entrusting me to help ease if not alleviate, their pain with all the commitment, compassion, candor and common sense that I can offer. I view medicine as a way to bond science with my compassionate nature. Medicine offers the opportunity to live a fulfilling, rewarding life dedicated to helping others in need, with hope to at least make other people realize the value of life after coming out of the dark world of pain. This thorough understanding will make me an asset to my community; a meaningful part of society; dignified for the right reasons.

bear wit me.

my choc potty pot
chicken poT piE!
caramel-croissant-pudding

lemonchicken wit lemon sauce.

my rendang n nsk impit

monday morning big fat breakfast.

mummy's-ayam-percik-wannabe

noodlez-toodlez

so, hungry yet?

(re)Read.

Jotting is a very powerful tool.

Later this evening i go through my posts in blogs. There are some random moments that i had longed forgotten that just come flashing back to me. It does took me to that very moment that I was, tapping down the letters on the keyboard, carefully picking up right words to speak the language of heart, we call feelings. Only then i realize how important it is to keep jotting down, because it's true, it's the moment that you remember. However moving or cold.

I just got back from a movie, Saw, in 3d. Halloween spirit haunted the cinema too. But really, there couldn't have been a better timing. It wasn't about the lessons of the psychopathic genius that force me to write at this very moment. I want to remember tonight, I want to remember that whether or not you let them, friends help.

I used to be very picky about who i choose to be friend with. I end up having a very-very close friends but not many of them. Which is now taken away from me by a different series of unscripted events that separate us (literally) by the ocean wide.

I hold on to the memories so dearly, that i forget to give a chance for a new one to bloom.

I was once told that every one that cross your way, crossed them for a reason. Or two. With the money crisis that I've been through, I was blessed to see some pure-hearted heart that never tired of making sure that i had enough. Constantly offering me with cereal nut bar during breaks, insisting that we should go out treating me with lunch right after class knowing that the sound of my stomach couldn't bear waiting another hour of cooking. Paying for my ticket for a movie just to drag me out from my room. A prosperous act of kindness that makes my heart sinks.

Oh, how Prosperous God is.

Dried.

It is funny sometimes that you have so many feelings, but you can't even utter a word.

At times, you feel like screaming but you know it won't be heard.

42 more days.

hold on, oh, hold on..

With every leaf falls..

It's autumn again.

Somehow, autumn colour blends with the local architecture here in europe.

nostalgic almost. The bench by the trees. ground covered with every leaf that falls. It's just pulls your heart down at times, looking at the empty lonely bench. It makes me think how amazing it is if i could just sit there with him in silence. Just as i was taking pics with my-ever-so-patient group mate, my eyes was pinned to an old couple on one of those bench, by the old oak tree, with ground covered with every leaf that falls. Somewhere between the gloomy sky and bald branches, i found the serenity in the scene .

I guess up till the end of our life, that's all we all longing for. We ask ourselves from time to time. How old our love could be? Will it ever stand the test of time? Will we ever truly get there?But if i have to guess, it's worth a try. It's worth giving out all your best-est. It pays up all the effort and hassle you put yourself into, just to spend another a day with him. Because those are the littlest things that matters, in the end. The very heart and soul you put in to make it works, just for another day..

Yes, it is scary come to think about it. A forbidden thought. We were brought up in the society which try to avoid these questions. Or else we get scared. Heart gets scared so easily because it is the one which suffers the most if anything goes wrong. It's true. But if we don't ask, if we run, how on earth can we find the answer and get resolved and settled once and for all?

Find the answer. What makes it all worth it. You'd be surprise to find out the answer could be as simple as, it's just because a thought of him, i find a rare sort of calmness, amid the storms of my daily life.

chronic symptom of food obsession part 2.

yup, yummy2..

yeah2, i love food pics.

it's good for long term memory.

u knw, later, when im gazing at my fridge not knwing what to cook.

can olways come back to these n rmmbr, i once a well-cook.

who are you?

Who am i?

I'd love to know the answer to that question myself too.

Who am i ?

i have no clue.

Perhaps, I'm the wind that carries you through,

or maybe, just maybe, a drop of rain in the ocean so blue.

I'd love to know just what cloth to wear,

which shoes to pair,

without doubt or wanting wear.

a chronic symptom of food-obsession- part 2

hey hey..i think im obsessed wit my food pic right now, u wanna see more, or u think it's wise for me to stop posting them here?okok....hopefully this wud be the last :>

one more year, and i'll be heading out on my own

leaving friends and the place that i call home

i don't wanna go

i just need to know that i can come back

i need to know, i only need to know that

you'll be here when i come back home

cuz i don't wanna miss

a single autumn evening here with you like this

i don't wanna miss

all those nights we danced by the moonlight

conversations bout nothin till midnight

you and i huddled close till the daylight came

remember the colors reflected in your eyes

the scene painted golden as the sun rises

over you and me, darling

one more year, we'd better make the best of this one

you just can't beat the weather here in autumn

please stay close to me

i just need to know you're gonna call me

i need to know that everything will all be

okay, while i'm away

I really think i should upload this.

I really miss you, will you call me?

A fairytale

When i was a little girl,in my equation, Europe equalize a fairy tale land. Of course, in the eyes of a 7 years old girl, a place where ice fall from the sky, a colourful chocolate mushroom house, enchanted castle, surrounded by beautifully dressed people, seems like a magical place to live in. I grew up believing that one day, me too, can be part of that world.

True enough, when i first went to my little town centre, that very night, the magic once again dazzled me. Till now, i still can remember precisely how i felt when i stood there gazing at the enchanted building soaked in beautiful light.

Then, little by little, the magic vanished. I no longer see the town the way i used to see them. It was all become part of me. Part of my life and my daily routine.

That's a clear sign for me to get out of this place for a while isn't it?To go out and travel. See more magical town and places. So that one day, I don't just have to read the fairytale from the book to my daughter, but i can tell her, I've lived there.

By the way, to you, here, i found some tips to travel I'd love to share. It's from my ultimate favourite, Paulo Coelho.

1. Avoid museums. This might seem to be absurd advice, but let’s just think about it a little: if you are in a foreign city, isn’t it far more interesting to go in search of the present than of the past? It’s just that people feel obliged to go to museums because they learned as children that travelling was about seeking out that kind of culture. Obviously museums are important, but they require time and objectivity – you need to know what you want to see there, otherwise you will leave with a sense of having seen a few really fundamental things, except that you can’t remember what they were.

2. Hang out in bars. Bars are the places where life in the city reveals itself, not in museums. By bars I don’t mean nightclubs, but the places where ordinary people go, have a drink, ponder the weather, and are always ready for a chat. Buy a newspaper and enjoy the ebb and flow of people. If someone strikes up a conversation, however silly, join in: you cannot judge the beauty of a particular path just by looking at the gate.

3. Be open. The best tour guide is someone who lives in the place, knows everything about it, is proud of his or her city, but does not work for an agency. Go out into the street, choose the person you want to talk to, and ask them something (Where is the cathedral? Where is the post office?). If nothing comes of it, try someone else – I guarantee that at the end of the day you will have found yourself an excellent companion.

4. Try to travel alone or – if you are married – with your spouse. It will be harder work, no one will be there taking care of you, but only in this way can you truly leave your own country behind. Travelling with a group is a way of being in a foreign country while speaking your mother tongue, doing whatever the leader of the flock tells you to do, and taking more interest in group gossip than in the place you are visiting.

5. Don’t compare. Don’t compare anything – prices, standards of hygiene, quality of life, means of transport, nothing! You are not travelling in order to prove that you have a better life than other people – your aim is to find out how other people live, what they can teach you, how they deal with reality and with the extraordinary.

6. Understand that everyone understands you. Even if you don’t speak the language, don’t be afraid: I’ve been in lots of places where I could not communicate with words at all, and I always found support, guidance, useful advice, and even girlfriends. Some people think that if they travel alone, they will set off down the street and be lost forever. Just make sure you have the hotel card in your pocket and – if the worst comes to the worst – flag down a taxi and show the card to the driver.

7. Don’t buy too much. Spend your money on things you won’t need to carry: tickets to a good play, restaurants, trips. Nowadays, with the global economy and the Internet, you can buy anything you want without having to pay excess baggage.

8. Don’t try to see the world in a month. It is far better to stay in a city for four or five days than to visit five cities in a week. A city is like a capricious woman (or a capricious man, if you are a woman): she/he takes time to be seduced and to reveal him/herself completely.

9. A journey is an adventure. Henry Miller used to say that it is far more important to discover a church that no one else has ever heard of than to go to Rome and feel obliged to visit the Sistine Chapel with two hundred thousand other tourists bellowing in your ear. By all means go to the Sistine Chapel, but wander the streets too, explore alleyways, experience the freedom of looking for something – quite what you don’t know – but which, if you find it, will – you can be sure – change your life.

As an old hippie, I know what I’m talking about…
The text was taken from my book “Like a flowing river”

Big Bike Race

Studying abroad is more like a big bike race.

At the start, we are riding together, sharing the camaraderie and enthusiasm. But as the race progresses, the initial joy gives way to the real challenges: tiredness, monotony and doubts about our own abilities.

We notice that some have withdrawn. They are still running, but only because they cannot stop in the middle of a road. They are numerous, pedaling alongside the support car, talking to each other and performing only their obligations.

Eventually we distance ourselves from them and we are forced to face the loneliness and the surprises of the unknown curves with the bikes. And after a while, we begin to wonder if it's worth the effort.

Yes, it is worth it. Just don’t quit.

Paulo Coelho

let's get intimate - (part 1)

I think it's time for me to get intimate. With you. Let me start by telling you what i love to do. What i am not, what i want to become, what are my hopes and dreams.

I hope, I'll have enough time and space, to peel it down one by one for you.

But for now, let's take a small step. Let's talk about me and my food. I've never cooked, not before here. I'd always think that cooking is nothing but an open option. You can choose to, and of course you can choose not to. Until you've come to point where you have no other option but to. That point, even so, come earlier than i thought it would be.

Just this evening, i was again in caught in a never ending internal battle of what to eat, thus, what to cook. I stood there for a long while gazing at my empty fridge, not knowing which way to move.

I really don't know how to put this correctly, but i think i've come to a saturation point. It was my own intelligent idea in the very beginning, believing that spending a little while lo

nger here in summer until you're done with exams won't make a huge different. Either way, I'll still be left alone.

Food brings people together. Food too, tear people apart. I've read somewhere that for prisoners, it's often food that stimulates their imaginations and sends them off on a mental journey. they can see it, touch it, taste it even smell it vividly in their mind's eye.

For people who left their homeland, a whole lot of them lost their customs, lost their languages, but they never lost their food, or at least that is the last thing to go.

Maybe that's why we spent hundreds of Ringgit each year shipping boxes and boxes of spices and coconut milk powder, or even soy sauce all the way from home to this foreign land.

I can share with you, a few snaps of what an amateurish cook i am.

(Please, don't be fooled by the fancy lighting).

In

In dwelling, live close to the ground.

In thinking, keep to the simple.

In conflict, be fair and generous.

In governing, don't try to control.

In work, do what you enjoy.

In family life, be completely present.

Lao Tzu

The one you feed.

One evening, an old Cherokee told his grandson about a battle that goes on inside people.

He said, "My son, the battle is between two 'wolves' inside us all. One is Evil - It is anger, envy, jealousy, greed, and arrogance. The other is Good - It is peace, love, hope, humility, compassion, and faith."

The grandson thought about this for a while and then asked his grandfather, "Which wolf wins?"

To which the old Cherokee simply replied, "The one you feed."

It wasn't that hard, don't you think?

black and white.

Part 1: White

First of, it's started of with a white . A white coat if u may. i wore a head to toe bright smile white. It's supposed to be a summer holiday now, and from this summer on, we're obligated to do practical training. This very particular year, and onwards. 3 weeks this year, 4 weeks next, and well, you get the idea..i practically finished mine..Alhamdulillah..I'm not saying i got all the training needed, but i got the chance to observe some basic neurological examination in which im going to dig more in next year.Hopefully.

I reached home and finally let go off my white outfit.

---------------------------------END OF PART 1------------------------------

Part 2: Black.

He was the first Czech person i knew. He too, was the first Czech person that i shake hand with. My early admission here to this very university is a mess. I had one hell of a time deciding which to opt for and which to let go. I choose not to come here. I wrote that letter of rejection. And, as you can see, my letter of rejection got rejected.

It was Sunday somewhere in May 2007. There it was, my name on the list on the board that we all constantly checking and fear. The interview was at 10.00 a.m , the list wasn't out until about 9.00 a.m and the next day it's final IB math HL. What more can i say. Torn between last minute prep and the interview that might secure me to med school, i opt for the latter. I never like math anyway, so whatever.

There he was sitting behind the table in silence. Trust me, not a word. So, i decided to break the awkward silence. I talked n talked, but still, no response. Until I've come to a point telling myself, maybe, math is not such a bad idea.

He said thanks, we shake hand, and I left the room.

I have to say, he too, ruined my very first winter. It was a white blanket snow outside, softly touched drizzle. To see such view for the first time is a blessed. It is a virgin white beauty to the eye. But all i can afford to do was sit on my chair with a mug alternatingly filled with hot cocoa and coffee.He made chemistry the hardest hurdle we all have to jump.

It doesn't end there. We met again the very next year. Biochemistry was another story. Never not once he started his class without a test.A hard long answer question test. Not for the lesson of the day, but we need to dig back those chem book from first year and study them all over again. Those things that we teach you last year wasn't meant to be forgotten, he said. In the middle of the experiment, he will call us one by one by name and sort of 'discuss' the mistakes we made for the last week's test. Telling us what a catastrophic error we made by not putting the unit of the measurement. How a wrong position of -OH branched is a fatal blunt, or how absurd it is for us to become a doctor without knowing how estrogen chemical structure looks like.And yes, In front of everyone.. Oh, did i mention it's a 3 hour class started at 730 in the morning?What nice way to start a day, huh?

I have to admit, he wasn't really my favorite. But somehow, beneath all the constant fear and disappointment(of failing his test over and over), I owe him a lot. He earned my utmost respect. People can like him or hate him, but his words cannot be ignored.

He made it hard in the very beginning of med school, so that now, we are on the right momentum of studying.

He made it so hard to pass but when passing it, the feeling is indescribable.

He made it hard, but now the other things that follows seems doable.

Dear prof Jaroslav Vicar,

You trained us well, now you can Rest in Peace.

And (in that black dress), i left the stone..

------------------------------THE END OF PART 2----------------------------

something snaps

hi there..it's been a while, again, but hey, no sweat, I'm still around..

Well, well, i remember once i wrote when the semester was about to begin..on the very first day in fact, i jot something. About how happy and excited i was (as so did everyone else ;>) and then i wrote again today, officially the end of (one hell) of a semester.

Haha, yes, super glad that it's over. But can't help it, that little tiny worry that whatever things that you learned along the way is somehow gonna determine what types of doctor you'll become when you hold that responsibility, soon enough. Well, let's not elaborate on that point, shall we?

Alhamdulillah, really, for the strength and the ride belongs to no one but Him. For the chance He bestowed upon His believers who's weak but never tired of searching. I'm grateful to You, for letting me through this far.

I got most of my credit this semester ending with pharmacology oral test this very morning. I woke up early so that i can repeat the stuff over and over until it sticks in this tiny little brain gyri of mine. Of course, i couldn't. At least not all..However surprisingly, I manage to explain quite well in front of the teacher who happen to speak perfect American English, (not to mention the youngest n cutest teacher so far). Lucky for me, he is more interested in the mechanism of the drugs, actions and reactions (rather than bluntly memorizing name) in which I'm really good at. And yes, I think if one thing that gets me through medical school so far is that i understand stuff and can relate and can connect and explain them using my own words (which save me a lot during oral exam). Oh, one thing more i discover about myself here in this very school is that i LOOOve asking weird questions in class and in lecture hall. You know, things that people don't think about and then it suddenly makes them think.

More stuff.

Erm, o ya, I think i love it this semester even more than the previous five. Yeah2 (now that it has come to an end)..lame, i know..But the subject somehow really answering my questions about what's going on in our body and what exactly happen when things go wrong, and you know, stuff like that. Curiosity overly satisfied.. Relax, I'm not gonna bore you with detail, but if you are somewhre studying pathophysiology and pathology in a very strict sterile department, u know what i'm babbling about..

I finish my Basic patient care training today, the end of loooong 9 hour practical in Geriatric Ward c.48.. Taking care of elderly basicly. But since there are more nurses than the patients, we (me n Noor) end up standing along the corridor and eagerly wait to open toilets doors to the nenek2 with tongkat. Not much training i supposed. But everything happens whenever or whichever way it suppose to happen. Trying to dig out the positivity during that long-hour
corridor guarding activity, something snap.

(Dramatics music background)

My CZech sucks. Like terribly horribly baad kind of sucks. You see, if i can at least speaks stuff i can just sit there by the bed talking to the patient and practice that good-bedside manner. But since I can't even make a decent, grammatically correct sentence it left me no choice but stone away. Let alone to understand the word their speaking. Old patient, mostly women, they love to talk, you have no idea. They keep on talking and talking even they know you don't understand a word, in which i think it's a very sweet gesture of them. To try to talk to you and help as much as possible for you to understand and just a simple yes to let you know that you're welcome to do the examination onto them. But that sweet gesture makes me even more guilty for not trying to learn the language properly.

On the way back, i look back those 3 years I've been studying this language. It's strange and foreign to me, but i used to be more interested in trying to at least find new phrases and try it on people, be it on the reception lady (who enjoy teaching us Czech so we can speak to them and that they won't have to struggle so much with high-school english.) But the point is, i start neglecting it. I was so drowned with other subject that i neglect the very basic yet crucial thing that brigde me with the patient. How to learn a good rapport if you can't even speak the language?

For most of us, the language is seized into a minor-not-top-of the least category. Which of course the case that too, happen to me. It is somehow imprinted in the schedule that only study czech for examination. There are people who can speak czech and i used to envy them for their fluency. But no action taken on my behalf. And now it left me again with a disappointment that is actually pretty intense.

Now that i hate that i can't speak Czech, I will do something about it, and its your obligation to do the followup routine to see where i stand.

So, that was it, a brief update in the beginning of the end of a semester. There are more to come which we will meet again. Oh, you will stay, will ya?

Till then~!
>.<

Evening Bliss

Yeah, i know, dat's a super lame post tittle. But that doesn't change the fact that it's true, no matter how cliche that might sounds.

I'm not a very good writer that can capture a moment in a sentence, but i can assure you, a day like this, doesn't happen everyday. Nothing fancy going on, no butterflies, no fresh smell of the grass after the rain, but just a plain perfect day. The feel of wind on your face, the sun getting ready to leave today, the calm n serenity that i rarely feel inside, everything is just a perfect blend.

Oh, it's a bliss. I thank you God, yet for another perfect day.

Till then.

It's approaching the end of April already, and i haven't post any.

Forgive me, please..not that i forget you, nor that i don't need to spill things out anymore..

Too much things happen, too many to say then, too boast to admit some of the stuff that happen to me in this very month of April..I'll write you more ok?I'm working it out, so just keep coming around, promise?

April plodding by cozily on its own, the weather is lovely, not too hot, not too cold, with a soft drizzle every now and then..Everywhere I go, I can't help but notice bright yellow buds shyly blooming on the fresh green grass. And oh, the tree outside my window is full of leaves now which I wish i see when exactly it awakes but yet again, i missed. Guess, spring is sooner recognized by plants then by people..

So it's true that they say, if you don't have winter, spring wouldn't be so pleasant. ;P

Be patient oh dear, please wait till then...

oH buLan~!

Today's a full moon outside my window,
I check the Islamic calender, its 14th of RabiulAkhr 1431 Hijr.

Today also my dad's 58th birthday. Happy birthday dad..

I had a fever for 3 days now..i check the temperature outside, its almost 14 degree Celsius.

It's really weird that i can survive minus 20, but got sick instantly when the weather spikes up to above 10.

It's like i meant to be here, somehow, weather-wise.

Just like the way i feel about the silver moon outside my windowpane, which existence is solemnly dedicated to hold me upright through tonight. As if it sparkles just for me...

Sometimes it's just nice to have someone or something that stood there silently just to make sure that you're not alone.
Sometimes, it's the simple silence that do all the talking.

Oh bulan, you do say it best, when you say nothing at all~!

My hardest word.

Asking for forgiveness might have been a big problem for some people as it is, too, has been my difficulties for as long as i remember. For some, its ego that gets in the way. For the rest, the simple ignorance of not knowing that you did wrong, somehow plays a major role for not saying sorry in the first place.

As for me, the action of confronting people and saying it has not really been a culture, at least not in my family. I know it's a weird thing given that we've been thought to seek God's forgiveness in every possible way, but somehow that's the truth.

No, don't get me wrong. I don't come from a family where plates being thrown over the dinner table to the wall every time someone's explode, nor that i have a family that find every possible excuse not to come back for family gatherings, no, not that.

We've wronged each other, but we just don't say "I'm sorry" out loud. There's always another way of saying sorry- buying stuff the person always wanted to show that you care, might as simple as doing what the other wants in the end as a sign that you finally admit that you're wrong, or if nobody wants to give in, a silence treat would be the way out, until both gets back to their own senses and starts everything all over again like nothing happens.

Maybe that's why, i somehow find that saying sorry to my sisters during Hari Raya ( you know when we lined up and say sorry to each other out loud in front of every one before taking family picture) is a bit awkward. I know somehow they felt the same way too. Why wouldn't it be awkward if you did it just once, in a year?

So that's about it. Of course in family, you forgive each other no matter how hurt you feel. Especially when you're a parents. But this kind of habit i tend to carry in my daily life towards the non-blood-related people around me, or better known as friends.

Sometimes, i say something wrong or did something wrong but i find it hard for me to utter the word sorry. Not because i don't felt sorry, but i felt awkward. I, most of the time just let it pass, and hope it will dissolve away. Yes, it does the trick most of the time, but little did i know how big that simple word could mean to someone, and especially, to me.

I've been apologizing a lot last few days, for my bizzare behavior for the past couple of weeks. When i literally shut my friends off, not talking to them for no specific reason at all, basically, not on my best behavior. And it felt wonderful, the confronting part. It takes a huge courage for me to step the first step but it certainly pays off.

Then only i realize, apologies aren't suppose to be easy. Admitting that you're wrong, vulnerable, or being in a state of a constant fear of rejection, aren't suppose to be easy. But when you did it right, when you meant it, can heal you a great deal. It's like you won the internal battle that wish to escape but you actually can't. To go and confront people saying that you're wrong did actually transcend your soul-baring to another level. It's like waking up from a denial, the hardest way out, at least it does, for me.

Maybe that's what it'll feel when you truly seek for forgiveness . Be it with your God, or people around you. You will make more mistakes of course, but at least not repeating the same. It brings you at ease with yourself, whether or not you're forgiven. Knowing that you've climb over a huge barrier to makes things right again.

And yes, in the end, making things right is always way more important than being right.

Trolley with Ting.

I went out today.
Movie night out - Shutter Island.
The plot was really interesting. But I won't say i love it that much. Nothing so far can beat Avatar.

It was a warm midnight when the movie ended. I did something I'd always wanted to do. I hopped in one of those trolley-car in front of the mall parking lot and have one my friend, Ting, pushed me around. Like a roller-coaster ride, the rush.

It's amazing that the exact same previous night , i was on my bed,drowned in tears, and the night after i was bursting into laugh, felt so free, like never before.

And it felt good, to let it go..

I love my friends, they do make me laugh. We had great times.

I'll get some sleep tonight. Thank you God, for a another great day.

To him, that i love...

Have you ever met someone who loves u more than he loves himself?

Who'd rather hurt themselves, rather than hurting u?

Who would forgive you, for the mistakes u made because he truly know that u too, can lost your way, and that you didn't mean for things to happen?

Who will still hold out for your hand, no matter how hard you hit the ground?

Who, no matter how low you feel he never look down?

Who let you know that you still have some pride?

Who still let you fly with your broken wings?

Who's heart so pure and true even you might forget that once in a while?

Who will let you bleed till you finally heal?

Well, i do. I met him 4 yrs ago, tonight, i truly know that it's all for real. I truly know what does it means to be loved, regardless...

We need to be tested to see the strength. We need to wash the mud to see the true colour. We need to be lost to find our way.

To him,
I promise i'll find my way.
I promise i'll be better,
I promise i'll wiped away the escaped tears..

I love you.
Let me be the one who deserves, to love you again...

Hallucination

This place can actually be weird.

One minute it can be so calm and serene and the next minute you look out the window, it's suddenly starts pouring with snow. And the next minute, the sky is blue again.

It gets me to a point that i have to turn to the person sitting next to me, asking whether or not i'm hallucinating a snow flakes..

Oh, what a weird day.

::Push::

People take picture of mountain climbers on the top of the mountain. They were smiling. They were happy. Eccentric. Triumphant.

Nobody takes picture along the way. Because nobody wants to remember the rest of it.

We push ourselves because we have to. Not because we like it.

The relentless climb, the pain and anguish taking it to the next level, nobody takes picture of that. Nobody wants to remember. We just want to remember that we've win the top. The breathtaking moment at the edge of the world.

Because that's the reason that keeps us climbing. And it was worth the pain. That the crazy part, is worth anything.

-Push, Grey's Anatomy-

I plotted. I planned.

It's Wednesday again.

I got the result from my pathology test. And I failed.
I heard some people said, "Oh, it's just a test, not your final". I get that a lot. Prolly because they notice my deepest-most-depression-syndrome the best today.

People just being supportive. That's all. Trying to tell me it's not the end of the world, yet. At least that. People also know that this is the second test that we have since the semester started, and the second one, too, that i failed.

It's been a while since I've been feeling like this. Almost 3 years ago, when i was in 3rd semester in college. That was when I failed a lot. My dark-aged i used to called. I really was drowning. It was excruciatingly suffocating. Like watching people climbing up the stairs when you didn't even have a rope to hold on to. Like standing in the middle of the crowd full of people but feeling nothing but left out. I vowed to myself, I'm never gonna put myself through this ever again. And again, I planned.

So, i survived that phase. It gets me where am I today. Some was accepted to prestigious medical school with glory, some end up where they're supposed to end up. I end up here. I made it through 5 semester so far, without much complication, Life has been easy on me, Alhamdulillah. I was always in the group-that-fail-the-least category (if such thing exists). Always in the handful of people that finish the exam the first. I did all i have to do to pass each passing hurdle that lay on my path. Taking each careful step, along the by way, traumatized by how it feels to be drowned.

Now that I'm on top again, i forgot what does it takes to succeed.
How many little steps I took and most importantly i forgot how minutely little does it takes, to fail.
I forgot the fact that, that little misstep, if repeatedly done can cause fatal damage and might as well leave you out and about in a constant doom.
Little that i forgot this is, too, part of His plan, all along.
Slowing me down to the little baby steps i used to take, because I was too anxious and obnoxious to run.
Just another way of telling me,

There's no such thing as perfection.
There's no such thing as smooth ride.
That in this road, there's no such thing like Trans-jugular Intrahepatic Portal-Systemic shunt.

Možna, to je nejlepši pro mě.

Oh God, If You're listening, Keep calling my name,
keep holding me through this pain,
Show me through this uncertain..

Oh God,
I really really hope You're listening,
I really really hope You're won't stop calling,
Even for as long as I remember I turned my back to You countless of times,
But now I deeply feel how hollowed it is without You,
How serene it feels to be wrapped in the warmth Your Grace.

As for the test i failed,
I'll find my way around it.
I'll figure out what doesn't work until I figure what does.

And to you,
Wish me all the best.

My refresh button.

I received a mail from my mom today. It's been a while since she wrote me one. And i couldn't exactly remember when. It's amazing how last night before i went to bed, i was longing for her hug. It's my safe place. Shifting me back to the very night before i left home 3 years ago. She hugged me tight and tell me everything is gonna be alright. Leaving me with the exact same spot of teardrop on my pillow.

I remember back then when i was in college, i used to get her hugs every once in a while. When i felt so helpless and have nowhere to go or don't know whatelse to do, i usually go back to her arm. A hug, and i do feel like a whole new person again. Like a refresh button being pressed when nothing else is responding.

Even 2 years now, that's the first thing I'm looking for in the airport whenever i arrived. Home is never a home without her hug. That too, the last thing that greet me off the departure hall.

In the mail, she updated me with stuff going on back home. One of my aunt is having an operation under the axilla. It's prolly benign. My sister is churning her stomach off as the SPM result is just around the corner. My niece and nephew, Isya n Adam already done packing and can't wait to balik kampung which is not until 2 weeks.

I miss home, I really do.
And at times like this, a simple hug from her would do.

Breaking the Habit.

Today in history:

I finally know the notes on the keyboard..
It feels like revealing world's greatest occult treasure.
Oh well, pretty much like it..
Way to go, girl!

Fragile

Gravity. It's a song. Given to me from a very very dear friend of mine. I didn't like it that much back then. But it's the song I've been humming everywhere now.

There's something about that song that really says what I've been feeling at the moment. No, not the whole songs, but that part about how true, that I am, so fragile.

Oh, how i thought i was stronger.

The truth is, we all think we can get through things, given that we have a line well defined. We all thing that we can draw certain lines and stick to the other side of the line. Little that we know, as time passed, the space we draw begin expanding , shifting more on this side to the other. Like a drop of water from the kitchen faucet into a big pool of stagnant liquid. Splashed. Still, didn't cross the line, we thought. Just another benefit of zero error. Another room for mistakes. Another 'it's still ok' moment. We moved on. We forget and forgive ourselves, unconsciously expending it even more. That line around the circle we draw, little by little, vanished. Just like that drop of water. So clear and defined at first, but ceased away in no time.

Guess what i'm really trying to point out is, how brittle, our little heart can be. How we all need a little something more to hold on to. No matter what we said or do, or how far we already pushed the line, we need to know that somewhere, somehow, there is always a voice that's never gonna be tired of calling us back to that center point of the circle, when the first drop touched.

How I'm thankful, that voice, even very distance, still calling.

Something always brings me back to You.
It never takes too long..

Gravity

Something always brings me back to You.
It never takes too long.
No matter what I say or do I'll still feel You here 'til the moment I'm gone.

You hold me without touch.
You keep me without chains.
I never wanted anything so much than to drown in Your love and not feel Your rain.


Set me free, leave me be. I don't want to fall another moment into Your gravity.
Here I am and I stand so tall, just the way I'm supposed to be.
But You're on to me and all over me.

You loved me 'cause I'm fragile.
When I thought that I was strong.
But You touch me for a little while and all my fragile strength is gone.



I live here on my knees as I try to make You see that you're everything I think I need here on
The ground.
But You're neither friend nor foe though I can't seem to let you go.
The one thing that I still know is that
You're keeping me down

Pitter patter

But if the night sky hides the silver moon,
What's left for the poet, by the window room?

( and ) it's a full moon outside my window.

A Happy Man.

Once upon a time, there was a rich and famous sultan. He had embroided shirts and soft carpet. He owned a palace on the shores of Indian Ocean to catch the cool breeze. It was filled with jewel and silk from Arabia. The most expensive incense burned in the room whether he was there or not.

Despite all the great wealth, he was not happy yet he couldn't understand what's wrong.

He had many wives who bickered constatnly, sons who fought with each other constantly and daughters who sulked.

He could buy anything he could think of but he never felt happiness or contentment.

One morning, after a sleepless night, he called his servants and told them, " Go and search until you find a truly happy man. When u find such person, bring him to me, I want to talk to him.

The servants scoured the land and one day they notice a poor man singing as he pulled water from a tiny well for his one skinny camel. He hummed as he milked the breast and shared the tiny bit of milk with sultan's servants. Even with an empty stomach, he laughed and joked.

" Are you a happy man?" the servant asked.
" What is there to be unhappy about?" the man answered.
" Please sir, come with us to the sultan's place. He would like to meet you" One of the oldest servant said.

The poor man agreed and journeed from his village to the great city where the sultan lived. He had never seen anything like it. There are so many people, so many colours, so many things to smell and taste. Sultan entertained him richly with wonderful fruits and sweetmeats, gave a lavish banquet and presented him with embroided clothes.

" What is the secret of happiness?" the sultan asked pearched on soft pillows. The poorman didn't know what to say, his tongue tangled with his teeth and he couldn't talk. He didn't know what makes him happy- it was just the way he felt. Dissapointed sultan sent him away to his camel and milk bowl carved out of wood.

He never forget the wonder of the sultan's palace and he was never happy again.