Crazy Train

Some time last week. A cousin of mine asked me whether I be interested in going with him To Malacca. Me, who'd do just about anything to take a break from home gave a quick yes. And that lead to what I can sum up as a crazy 2 day holiday away from home. The whole deal is rather lengthy so here's the long short of it :

Day 1

Arrived at Malacca at about 1. Had lunch with the cousin and later parted ways. I was only informed that he was 'going to meet a certain someone'. Totally classified stuff, see.

I thought about walking around town but oh how naive of me to think that possible. The road in Malacca (and probably anywhere in Malaysia that I can think of) is very on-foot unfriendly.

Malacca city centre is suprisingly jam packed with vehicle despite it being a Monday but the traffic grows thin as the sun sets.

Saw Sue Fin and her sister. They introduced me to a fine bubble tea. Good. Not as good as in Wellington (cause they don't have vanilla, apparently), but good nonetheless. Recommended to anyone with the slightest interest in bubble tea.

The plan was supposed to meet her, have a drink or two and then split, but I ended up tagging along with the sisters for the most part. I bet by the end of the day they must've been annoyed by me messing around with their shopping...hehe. Sorry

Accidentally ran into Justin! Of all the places, the world really isn't that big after all. Highlight of the event - He told me he saw Sue Fin the day before. I said : "she's around (Mahkota)", to which he replied : "I know, she lives in Melaka". I had to say it 3 times before he finally understood what I was getting at. Funny.

Toilets! Is that too blatant? Ok, maybe I should say..washrooms. I went to 3 different washrooms. 2 in Mahkota and 1 in Melaka Sentral. I'm not sure about the ladies washroom, but the guys, you know how the doors in the stalls always had something (usually indecent stuff) written or drawn on it right? Well, all 3 that I went to had decidedly gay remarks all over the door. That's right, all of them, all over the door, which leads me to 2 hypotheses :

• most guys in Malacca are gay, or
• most gays like to go to Malacca.

Ate at a restaurant aptly named 'Chicken Rice Ball' for it sells 'chicken rice ball.' Wait. What exactly is a 'chicken rice ball'?. It can only mean

• rice ball with chicken filling, or at least tastes like chicken, or
• its a chicken rice with chicken balls (not likely)

It turns out that its the former. The linguist in me protests, but I digress. Also, the dish was out so we only had the normal chicken rice.

Melaka Sentral is the best station I've been to. There's lots of shops and restaurants, its clean, bright, not as crowded as KL sentral and the surau is very comfortable.

I realized that I'd forgotten to use my camera. Dank. Reached the cousin's place just over 1a.m. Slighlty later that planned.

Day 2

Invited the cousin for a trip to the beach. Him driving of course. I wouldn't be caught dead driving somebody else's car (had a trauma). I wanted to go to Cherating. He didn't want to because TC was nearer. In the end, the one who drives, wins. Fine, a beach is a beach.

If yesterday taught me something, its 'use thy camera!'.

Went to McD for some snacks as we walk along the beach. Saw a familiar face as I walked out of McD. I wasn't too sure so I hesitated to wave, but my hand moved even before my brain could send the message. I turns out that I wasn't wrong

As if meeting Justin in Malacca wasn't surprising enough. Yes. That's Qi Su. She's from Johor, on a holiday with her family and friends. Truly a chance encounter. Further proves that the world really is a small place.

And thats our snack. My treat of couse, since I'm the older of the two. Haha.

By the way, here's 'the cousin'

The wave was bigger than usual that day so I had to take some snapshots of it, even if I had to risk my life wading through the water.

Look behind ye!

But when I turned, its gone...

Also, I really should remember to not bring my wallet when I go to the beach. The wallet, and everything in it was soaking wet. Fortunately, no casualties.

TC was not bad, I hadn't been there in ages though the authorities could probably do better in collecting the rubbish. That being said, the blame ultimately goes to the people who litter in the first place. Also this particular group is part of the problem...

beach monkeys. You read that right. Beach Monkey.

The night before I went home was spent on countless hours of reading Eyeshield 21. I think it was about 2 a.m that I submitted to the spell of sleepiness.

A rather long post, for a rather crazy 2 days holiday. One that I was seriously in need of or I'd seriously go crazy.




*Crazy Train is a song performed by Ozzy Osbourne

Here In My Home

I came across this piece of art done by fellow Malaysian whom at the time, I knew only as bem69 at his DevianART page and it instantly clicked with me. It is a perfect summation of what being a Malaysian is (whether you think is good or bad, is totally up to you). We are a community of different colours, culture, beliefs, practices, (I could go on and on and on again about this so I think I'll just stop there) yet all of us stand under this one flag.

Oh.. one more thing. It turned out that dude bem69's real name is the same as mine. Talk about coincidence.


Here In My Home - Various artists. If you're a Malaysian and have yet to hear this song, I'd really suggest you do. Its free for download here

My sacrifice

Exactly a week ago, we celebrated what most people know in Malaysia as Hari Raya Korban (lit. Big Day of Sacrifice). My family celebrated it in our kampung in Baling, Kedah. They had a cow sacrificed there. The whole process of sacrificing the cow is done at the butchery (by the folks there, no less) but the rest of it, which involves separating the flesh from the bones, mincing the meat into fine think slices and cutting them bones are left to the family.

I wish I could post some photos of it, but they are potentially graphic and with me having low tolerance to massive volume of blood, I think I'll pass. Heck, I kept my distance from where they did all that stuff. I feel kind of bad about it now, but if i were to get close, I'd feel worse then .Weird is that I don't seem to have a problem if its my own blood though. Anyways, many know of this day, but there are equally as many who do not know how it originated.

The history of sacrifice dates back to the very beginnings of mankind, when the Adam's two sons offered their respective sacrifice to God. This however, isn't where the story starts. It began much later, during the era of the prophet Ibrahim (also referred as Abraham in some cultures). The prophet Ibrahim and his son, Ismail (Ishmel) were instructed by God to rebuild the Ka'aba - the structure to which present day Muslims face during their prayers - on the foundations where the first man, Adam had originally built it in ages past.

Upon the completion of the Ka'aba, Ibrahim saw a dream in which he slit the throat of his son as a sacrifice to God. Unsure of whether it was an order from God or merely a dream, he consulted his son Ismail (Ishmel), to which he responded : "My father, do what has been told by God, God willing, you will find me among the patients".

Just as Ibrahim wanted to sacrifice his son, God, most merciful that He is replaced Ismail with a kibas (a kind of sheep)*. This event serves as a testament that there is no cost to great for the cause of God and Ibrahim and his son Ismail has shown that their faith to God was so strong that they would surrender everything, be it their own life of the life of one they love for God.

We probably don't have it in us to go to the extent that they did, but sacrifice can come in many way. Going to the 'ulu' places, far from the confort of civilisation to teach could be a sacrifice as well, if you know what I mean...haha.

*note : just to clarify, the sacrifice (ie. the cow) isn't for God, rather, it is the act of sacrificing is what is dedicated to God, for He, most glorious that He is needs not from us.




My sacrifice, performed by Creed.

Livin' on a prayer

"Every living being will taste death"

A cousin of mine, Abang Kamil got caught in a horrible accident which claimed his life late last night, December 10, 08. He was a very good person and his demise will be sorely missed.

Its times like these that you can't help but to feel how fragile a person really is. The prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) says that the average lifespan for his people is around the age of 60. 60 years... I'm already over the age of 20 so mathematically speaking, I've got another 2/3 of my lifespan to look forward to. But then again, my late cousin passed away when he was barely 50 so one can never be too sure.

One thing is for certain though - we will all, at one point or another, leave this world. And its because we don't know when our time will come, that we must prepare ourselves for the life promised after this life is over. Our actions in our current life dictates the very consequences that awaits us in the next life, and that life is by far more important than this one. A fact, for those who wants to think.

They say time waits for no man. Likewise, death too, doesn't. So live today as if your life would end tomorrow. And remember - the only thing that can help us to a better tomorrow is our prayer today.

Livin' on a prayer - performed by Bon Jovi

To all my Friends

To all my Friends,

I wish I could tell you how much I'm glad to have known the lot of you, but my feelings towards you simply cannot be put into words. I am glad that we have met and I really hope that at some point our paths will cross again. Thank you for all the memories you have blessed me with, for being friends with me these past 5 years, even when there were moments of ups and downs. You, my Friends, won't simply be just memories because you are a part of my soul.

To all my Friends...

Thank You