Two years ago, I wanted to celebrate my friend’s birthday at Cameron Highlands. My friend and I had never been to this great place. To make it adventurous and elegant, we decided to go there by ourselves using my car. We did not mind the risks because believed that we were determined explorers. So confident and thrilled, I could not stop talking and smiling during the whole ride, imagining all the exciting events waiting for us. After about 2 hour journey on the highway, I turned into a kampung street. Suddenly, I thought I was lost. So, I pulled over and asked a Chinese man selling fruits beside the street.

“Tumpang tanya Uncle, is this the right way to Cameron Highland?” I asked. He looked confused and said, “This is not the way to Cameron Highlands.”
“So which is the right way?”
“You should go through Tapah, not Bentong!”
“Hah? What!?”

I did not believe what I heard. To double check things, I called my boss and asked for her direction. When I told her where I was, she laughed hysterically. I was furious. After going through a stimulating drive on Karak Highway, I was told that I had to go back to KL and made my way to PLUS highway. Only then I realized that I was totally at the opposite side of Cameron Highlands!

That was so unimaginably stupid. I did not blame my friend for it was, in the first place, my idea and I was the driver, so I was supposed to know better than him. And I should’ve asked my other knowledgeable friends about this. Instead, I blindly followed my instinct and successfully made myself an idiot.

Of course, we never made it to Cameron highlands on that lucky-turn-pathetic day. To undo and compensate the damage, we went to Bukit Tinggi, which I ‘accidentally’ discovered on Karak Highway on our way back to KL (what a fortunate rescue!)

As a matter of fact, that was only one of the many stupid moments in my life. Nothing was more admirable compared to the next pathetic story I am about to tell you. There was another incident when I was doing my shopping at a supermarket. I was in dire need for a creamer. I was looking for a condensed milk when colourful cans of F & N caught my attention. So I hurriedly bought a dozen of them. Happy, I quickly made myself a hot Nescafe at home, only to find out later that the supposedly condensed milk was actually evaporated creamer for baking cakes!

We are continuously surrounded by misfortunes, which could take us by unspoken surprises and terrible consequences. The moment it happens, everything might seem out of control, and we are as helpless as the leaves falling off the old trees, as insignificant as the ants being swept trivially by human feet. Nothing in the world seems to care, not even those who witness it.

Little Mr. Dream is of no excuse.

He just got out of LRT at Terminal Putra Station when something terrible happened. Out of the blue, a few rugged-looking men stopped him.
“Hoi, kau yang rogol adik aku ye?” said the angry fat man to Little Mr. Dream.
“Hei, aku dah hilang sabar ni, kau jangan tak mengaku!” the fat man went on, breathing so hard it could kill Little Mr Dream alive.
For few awkward moments, Little Mr Dream was utterly speechless. Finally he responded:
“Tolonglah bang, saya tak buat apa pun!”
He was dragged into Proton Waja by force, and beaten up. Mercilessly.

He was found later in a neighbourhood near National Zoo, few kilometers away from the station. He was robbed and beaten up. He was clueless and confused. Apparently, he was the most unlikely to be accused as a rapist. For the record, that was one of the terrible chains of misfortunes he experienced in recent years.

Poor Little Mr. Dream. The world has been so unkind to him.

***

Little Miss Stupid was quarrelling with her lover again, who later beat her up, leaving her face injured, and left alone in the middle of MRR2, late at night.

“Why didn’t you fight him back?” I asked her afterward.
“I can’t. I love him so much.”
“Come on. Don’t tell me again that he is the one!” I said sarcastically.
“Let it be. I have forgiven him. I just want him to be happy. I care for him”
“Does he care for your own happiness?” I became impatient and said, “Wake up girl! You should be kinder toward yourself.”

Poor Little Miss Stupid. In the name of love, she became blind and turned the world heartlessly unkind.

***

Our sister Lunacy is facing an unruly world. Perhaps, this is the blessing in disguise for another precious gift from Him. And perhaps, this is the time for us to show our little mercy and care for our Guardian Angel.

You once made the world so beautifuL
But now the motherly world is testing yoU
We all miss the heartwarming passioN
For you have created everlasting dramA
Making our stories so unbelievably fantastiC
Showing us the beauty out of our lunatic tragedY

We surely live in an unkind world. So, let us treat each other kind, and charm this world with our kindnesses, so that we can undo its unkindnesses and replace it with all the possible beauties.

Time:
5.20 a.m.

Subject of the Dream:
Rushing To Schools

Details:
I was in the old wooden house in Binjal, before it was torn apart for a new single-storey bungalow. I was maybe 15 years old, judging from the scenarios in the house, which details I could recall so vividly. Everyone in the family was rushing in the morning, all woke up at the same time. Everybody tooked turns, waiting patiently for their turns for the old, dark, half-equipped, non-flushed, manual, third-world toilet. Everybody shared the same bathroom; father was there, my cousin (out of nowhere) was there, and my mother, not so surprisingly, was there too. I was the last one. So, I was late school.

It made no sense to me. This dream, and the other dreams I have continuously had in the middle of the night, has driven me crazy. They made me sad, scared, confused and tired. Usually, I don’t remember the dreams when I wake up in the mornings, and maybe I will recall later in a particular situation as a kind of dejavu. Or maybe I remember a little the moment I open my eyes from sleep, and later forget the whole thing after I get into my busy life.

But lately, these dreams keep disturbing my emotions; I could recall them so clearly. I don’t understand them. I wish someone with good dream interpretation could tell me what those dreams are for – what signs, what suggestions, what intentions - that could be of any use to me. I met Budiman, my colleague, and asked for his opinions.

“Did someone in your dream talk to you?” said he.
“Mm… I am not sure,” I answered, “may be they were talking or may be they weren’t. Why? Does it matter?”
“Oh yes, hell they do.”
He gave me that intelligent look.
I was impatient and said, “So what if they really talk?”
“Then, then they were Satans”
I was taken aback by his revelation.
“And if they don’t talk, they were Angels?” I said.
“Depends.”
“Depends? Come on. Can you tell me what it is? Here is another one. I was on top of the building. Suddenly I saw, far from the distance, a giant ice broke into pieces, turned into great flood, and all of the sudden, there were great tidal waves, splashing the whole buidings, taking all people’s lives, except me. I could see the devastation all around me. And I was on top there, scared and alone. So, what is this? Tsunami the second? And I am sure nobody talked.”
Budiman was silent. He said:

“May be you should see a psychiatrist.”

Having had various preplexing dreams almost every night, I always make sure that I take all the precautions not to get into one of those nighmares. And I make sure that I am sleeping with air sembahyang taken, feet washed, du’a said, and mind cleared. But those wild images keep coming.

Maybe they are just dreams. Or maybe they are not. Depends.

I had the most interesting day yesterday.

After more than four years of my teaching career, I finally had an unforgettable social outing with my students, and yes, for the first time ever! I realized that, not until yesterday, I had put some wide gap between my students and me, socially speaking, despite my sporting achievements in various classrooms, and it never surpassed beyond these formal boundaries. And not until yesterday, I realized that I had not been so close with them, which could be probably due to my strong principle in keeping my personal life so private, that I would never indulge myself with students, or mingle around them, or mix my social life with them, or take them as part of my inner world. As a lecturer, it was my duty not to mess up my private life with students, because it might get ugly in the future, so to speak.

But, all these ‘cold’ attitudes of mine changed yesterday. My business communication students really broke the tradition of my concept of relationship with students. Organised by Royal Supplies from Section 6, we went out to Genting Highland, a day after they sat for Business Communication paper. What happened on the high land totally exceeded my expectation. I had never thought that I could be so student-oriented – I laughed with them, played with them, giggled with them, fooled with them – as if there were no more artificial peripheries between me and them, no more lecturer-student relationship. We were more like friends!

Apparently, I behaved like I was one of them. I was dressed just like them that I almost fooled every stranger there, making them think that I was also a student, young and energetic. It happened even earlier while I was on the way up to Genting Highlands.

“Where do you study brother?” asked one of the passengers in the bus to me.
“Oh, at a college in Batu Caves,” I was half-lying, since he asked about my studies, not about my work. Surprisingly, there was no slightest doubt in his face about my appearance, suggesting that he was taking me now as a student. Then he said:
“So, what course are you doing now”
“IT”
“Oh, is it tough?”
“Okay lah.”
Suddenly, one of my students asked me from behind, “Can you take our picture, SIR?”
Alamak kantoi!
I was smiling sheepishly to my new friend, and said, “Actually, my name is Seman. You can call me Se.”

For the whole afternoon, I became the laughing stock for my own students. They called me Pak Seman. Okay, I got a new glamourous name – SEMAN! (call me ‘Se’ okay). I didn’t mind this embarrassment at all. In fact, it was hilariously fun – I took it as some kind of endearment term that was only shared secretly by us (unless they spread this to the whole college!).

Oh, I won’t forget the fun we had at the peak, with everybody trying to show off their heroism by trying every single game in the outdoor park so bravely – the Space Shot (again!), roller coaster, fun cart (enjoy the low speed!), merry-go-round (with broken CD), tea-cup spin, boat-bumping, and so much more. And of course, I won’t forget the climax of the event - the great dinner near the Gombak cemetery! Despite the stupid warning note put on my car plus the bent wiper that really made me mad, I managed to compose myself again and never let that spoil the great time that we had had so far. The dinner was splendid - the enlightening speeches, the great food - everything was excellent. And also, not to forget the dinner treat organized by Songket Mas Travel Tours & Agency from Section 4 held two days ago at HR Steak House in Kampung Baru, KL. Thanks a million guys. Indeed, these could be among the most darling chapters in my life.

Definitely, this outing was so much different from the outing I had with my colleagues early this year at the very same place, in a way that I had achieved something remarkable in my life as an academician – I had actually put myself into the students’ shoes. As a matter of fact, I have been so jealous with my own colleagues for their close relationship with students, for their continuous outdoor activities with them at so many great places that I didn’t think I was capable of doing. But yesterday, I proved that I could get involved with students without much injuries incurred. It was not as bad as I had thought it would be. It was harmless, satisfying and fun. I felt so good about myself.

Dear students, I know that you have been wondering about my personal life, my love life (or my marital status). Let me keep this straight. As long as we enjoy each others’ company, let it be this way, and let me handle my utmost private life by myself, let it remain ‘mysterious’ (as you put it), because I prefer it this way. Don’t worry, I will let you know the soonest possible the very moment that ‘great’ time arrives.

But at least, Cekmi somehow managed to get himself out of his own closet. Well done Seman!

Research writing can be such a challenging shit for many people.

“I am sick with the administrative constraints,” said Melly, one of my close friends.
“Why?” I asked.
“Well, they keep rejecting the proposals,” she paused and smiled, “and the next meeting will be in a couple of months’ time.”
I was smiling too and asked, “So what are you going to do?”
“I’d better sit for a Comprehensive Examination.”

Yes, IIUM is among the rare universities that leave two great options for its postgraduate students – Coursework with Thesis OR Coursework with Comprehensive Exam (coined as “compre” by most students).

This confusion has always tricked my conscience since the very beginning of my postgraduate studies: The question of Thesis versus Compre.

For those who are so ambitious enough to change the world and get themselves published in one of the reputable journals in the library of thoughts, they would go for the former.

For those who are so busy with their family and professional life, and desperate enough for an easy way out, they would go for the latter.

I have been imagining the worst things that could happen to me if I were to write a thesis, until I got the “call” early this year that changed my perspective.

“You gotta sacrifice something in your life”, advised Dr. Zah, upon asking her about my highly-disordered mentalities.
“But I can’t sacrifice my work,” I reasoned.
“I know your work is important for your survival, but is this what you are going to do for the rest of your life? Think of your future, dear.”

With those words lingering powerfully in my mind for many hours, I finally made up my mind – I am going to write a thesis. With determination and proper management, I know I am able to handle all the possible administrative constraints from the university, just like what Melly had madly gone through.

“What’s more important is to choose a topic that can be easily done – doable,” added Dr Zah, who agreed later to be my supervisor. I was so happy since I got an A in her subject before, and what’s more, she’s the Head of the Department. It surely ensures a brighter and more promising end. Well, the road is now open, waiting for a suicidal driver called Cekmi.

After a few months (!) of contemplation, driven by Dr. Zah’s continuous beliefs in my capabilities, I decided an area for my investigation. And this is what I have always wanted to explore – the Phonetics of English Language.

I know I can make it doable.