| Tuesday, November 28, 2006 |
| Another Euphoric Episode |
    No, I have not been in Bali recently. It is our very own famous Port Dickson. Yes, PD – the easiest and most instant vacation spot for most of tired KLians. Well, the journey would take only about one and a half hours. I was there last week, spending my much anticipated end-of-semester vacation with my lovely ex-Business Communication students. We stayed in a lazily-mantained apartment called Sunshine. And the pathetic management is trying too hard to impose the international face to the apartment by constructing a shake-or-stir café at the opposite side of its entrance.  The trip was full of fun. It was, so far, the longest social outing I have ever had with my students. Although there were only 4 boys and 8 girls, the whole ‘extravaganza’ was filled with unexpected excitement and pleasant thrills. The monkey boys especially. Hahaha.   It is okay students, this time around, I have no crucial points about the trip. Don’t worry about what I feel. Frankly speaking, I truly enjoyed those great moments we shared together. The barbeque was superb. The poison box game was hilarious. The out-of-the-blue outing to Bandar Bersejarah Melaka was indeed worthwhile doing. Yes, since you were going out with your educator, I would call that a Lawatan Sambil Belajar outing. Hehehe.      Oh, Cekmi also could not wait to deliver his best killing shots.      Here are the two-word descriptions that Cekmi thinks of you guys. Irfan: Big Head Wadud: Petite Leader Fahmi: Great Husband Mok: Cute Model Aen: Iron Lady Nisa: Sweet Wife Hasnah: Persistent Tigress Sharina: Daring Driver Lina: Bright Mind Janet: Stylish Hilton Garfield: Shy Cat Jihan: Nnggo Sokmo   Labels: cekmi's darling episodes |
| mused by cekmi @ 3:32 PM |
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| Friday, November 17, 2006 |
| Nostalgia of a Cupboard |
This picture amuses me.
Thought that this is a ready-to-be-thrown-into-Kelantan-river cupboard?
Think again.
My father would have a different perspective about it.
"Please, don’t throw it away!" my father insisted.
"Ayah, this is very old already. Why should we keep it here? Menyemak je," my eldest brother argued, followed by fast nods from the other siblings, including me. We had been arguing about this for a few times. Being young and modern, we were so eager to clear up some space and fill them up with more stylish stuffs. What's more, the cupboard had been located near the living room, so we didn’t want to force the guests making such courtesy remarks as "Wow! What a lovely classic cupboard," or "Ooo, what a taste," or "Hmm…that looks so elegant in this house," or something like that.
After long stillness, my father finally said, quite sadly: "We should never throw away what used to be so good."
My father’s words made me totally tongue-tied. All of us were silent. His rare wisdom was empowering me like a wild thunderstorm, shaking me up as if I had just been electrocuted. I was thinking: Hmmm… not bad ar, my father can also be so sentimental and melancholic, just like me.
That happened one day before he got remarried. We, all the get-back-together siblings, were busy rearranging all the stuffs in our house in Kelantan when we found mountains of old books, magazines, notes and uncategorized stuffs belonged to my father. They must be 40 or 50 years old! I couldn’t believe that my father still kept all those things, putting them nicely in various hidden locations in the house. My sister lumped them together into a large waste bag, ready to throw them away. I managed to rescue some of the books which, I thought, were worthy of continuous safeguarding, like some old reading books in English and dictionaries. How nostalgic.
Honestly, I myself have been doing things like what my father had done, a lot actually. I always keep all those petty things, like movie tickets, sales receipts, brand tags, paper bags, shoe boxes, etc. (God of Small Things?) I couldn’t simply throw them away, ironically for no apparent reason. Until after some time, like when I want to move out, and feel that those piles are annoying, then I will voluntarily dump them into a dustbin, for good (Do you guys out there do what I do?).
Oh, back to the cupboard story, my other siblings were still determined in getting rid of the poor cupboard in our house, especially my eldest brother. It was okay to throw all those documents, said my father, but not that lovely cupboard.
Sigh.
Actually, I started to have the same opinion like my brother, thinking that it was about time for my father to let go some of the physical things in his life and start his brand new life with our new Ummi. Of course we need to remember what used to be good, but along the way to the future, we need to let go some of them. Don’t you agree?
Finally when my father was not around, we did what was not supposed to be done, without his knowledge.
"Come on, let’s do it now!" my eldest brother whispered to us mischievously.
And so, here we go. One. Two. Three. Now!!
 Tada…
We were acting like criminals, committing a serious crime against the Goddess of Nostalgia. When my father saw it later, he didn’t say a word.
Should I feel guilty over what I had done? I am not sure. Would you feel so? Labels: cekmi's family affairs |
| mused by cekmi @ 6:44 PM |
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| Tuesday, November 14, 2006 |
| Naughty Children |
 Look at them. Crazy. They only gave me a very short notice, telling me that they would have a raya visit to my house, not 2 of them, nor 3, but 18 students! Whoa, somebody had to sit on the toilet bowl. How can my humble little hut accommodate such a big number of aggressive people? I felt like saying NO, but thinking of the possible fun, and that this was the very first time my own students coming over to my house (and unashamedly without any official invitation), I excused myself and accepted their plan for a Cekmi’s forced open house. “Bring me your own glass and I will serve you plain water!” I jokingly told them over the phone, pretending to be angry. “Don’t worry Sir, tak payah susah-susah, kitorang nak jalan rumah Sir je,” said Akimi, the head of the wild heads. You are so right, Akimi. So I got only a few hours’ hectic preparation, tidying up my house, hiding all the not-to-be-seen stuffs, rearranging all the furniture, and asking help from a friend to cook something. At the end, here we are –  Thanks a zillion to my handsome newscaster-to-be chef who was so patient with me. Of course, it was unbelievably yummy. But too bad, it was only half-eaten, since those students were so busy cheering and shouting that their stomachs were full of not-so-nutritious laughter. Oh, the group was late. Very. You know that I am very particular about this, right? But, it was fine, since this was a party. By the way, people may fashionably come late to a party. Indeed. They were almost 2 hours fashionably late! They arrived around 11pm, at night! Luckily I am still a happy-go-lucky single, so I could still tolerate surprise guests during mating hours. Oh my God! They were totally uncontrollable. They were mad. The most happening noise made me bewildered with confusing excitement and exhilaration. The big group couldn’t stop laughing and talking simultaneously. Mess, pandemonium, loose-my-button aura was on the air. I couldn’t stop smiling. It was certainly not as grand as the so-called “Grand” business communication dinner, but at least, the mission was somehow accomplished. I was so happy and satisfied. That was all it mattered. And it all happened too fast. One happy hour. And there were a variety of amusing ooohs and aaahs. Here are some of their intelligent says: “Ooo, Cekmi suka merah, ek? “Aaaa, I like the toilet most. So vibrant!” “Whoa, the bedroom was so cozy.” “Hmmm, I admire those curtains!” “Wow, banyaknya baju..” “Er, can we stay here during our practical?” They are my naughty children.  Labels: cekmi's darling episodes |
| mused by cekmi @ 6:33 PM |
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| Thursday, November 09, 2006 |
| Being 5 |
Last Friday – 3rd of November, 2006 – marked the fifth year I have been in this higher-learning institution, being a lecturer, an academician, a guru.
 Previous campus
I still remember that day, when I beamingly walked into the college, after four mid-boggling interviews, after having a tough life, job-hopping from one company to another company. And I am so jubilated that, after years of persistent hard work and constant endurance, I finally settle in my career now.
Why am I so in love with this college?
1. I work only for 6 flexible hours a day, 30 hours a week, 5 working days only. That makes me so happily smile and move like a tame snake, coming everyday to the college anytime (provided that I fulfill those 6 hours), without following the strict office hours. Oh, how I hate those fixed hours when I worked in the previous institutions. 8.30 sharp! No way. I love to be flexible where I can practice my own self-discipline. And I think I have done that so religiously.
2. If you want to be a boss, come and work here. Apart from having to report to my superiors, I am my own boss in many exciting ways. In a classroom, I am in-charge of the students, where I am their manager, counselor, father, brother, dictator and other superior-related roles, simultaneously. Well, Cekmi rules here. Shut up and listen.
3. Being among the second batch of lecturers, I am now a senior (young, of course) who is entitled for a better salary scheme. This makes the other batches of lecturers always look at me with contempt. Why the hell, they might think, Cekmi got a better salary than we do while we are doing the same damn thing? Sorry guys, the world is never fair.
4. I can, at my own whims and fancies, decide what I want to be and what I don’t want to be. I once volunteered to be a manager for a department, so I comfortably got it. And when I felt like I was in the middle of an administrative suicide, I sent a one-month notice of resignation to the HR. The CEO sent me a thank-you letter. Just like that. Thank you Cekmi.
5. My colleagues are the “craziest” people on earth. They are not only my office mates, but also my close friends. We giggle in the office like wild teens (oh, just forget about being a professional lecturer!), laugh like naughty kids, and share things so intimately like brothers and sisters. Last Monday, we had a pot-luck gathering in my house and, to make it unforgettable, we had a wild poisonous-box game. You can imagine how hilarious it was when 12 people laughed hysterically at the same time. Talk about English lecturers.  Current campus
Some interesting trivia about Cekmi & his college:
1. My current immediate boss is my previous immediate subordinate
2. A part-time admin staff is paid RM3 per hour (McDonald’s rate?)
3. I got triple bonus last year (six in the making, insyaAllah)
4. A lecturer has to teach usrah (Cekmi can be an ustaz okay)
5. I was the MC for college convocation for two consecutive years (not bad, ar?)
6. CEO’s favourite question: “Bila nak kawin?”
What do I want more from this college?
1. A room for each lecturer, with personal accessories (don’t forget an air-con)
2. More flexible attire rules for students (decent jeans is fine for me)
3. More incentives for staff (end-of-year holidays in, er, Bali perhaps)
4. Friendlier administrative staffs who know how to smile (speak English please..)
5. An award for best-dressed male lecturer. Hehehe.
What’s more?
I don’t need anything more. I am blessed with all the good things here. Labels: cekmi's academic world |
| mused by cekmi @ 3:05 PM |
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| Monday, November 06, 2006 |
| Tales of 11 |
The catastrophe happened five years ago.
I just started working after graduation and moved to a new apartment in Setapak. At that time, I was working with a small company in KL. So things were a little difficult. Hmmm. Oh yes, there was a swimming pool in front of the apartment. And this is where the story began.
Looking so elegant and inviting, I couldn’t wait to swim there. It might not be an olympic kind of pool like the one I used to swim in my previous university, but it must be surely fun playing in the water, surrounded by curious on-lookers especially. So, on one cool evening after work, I invited Wawa, one of my housemates, to be my co-swimmer. Yeah, one very cool evening. Up there, the all-knowing angels might be whispering to each other, “Cekmi must have no idea at all what kind of hell is waiting for him in the swimming pool.” Creepy, as I am thinking of it now, like a Final Destination feeling.
Wawa was already inside the pool when I wanted to jump and dive through the water. How I loved doing that 90 degree diving style when I was in the university. I could go very deep into the water in a few seconds, 9 metres deep into the basement. So, I wanted to do it again. Right at that moment. That very coooooool evening.
You can do it again this time, Cekmi. I was telling myself as I got ready to perform a 90-degree somersault style into the pool, which was waiting smilingly for its prey. There I go, moving so gracefully and skillfully. And few milliseconds after I was in the pool –
BANG!!!
I felt something hard and sharp on my face. What was that? What happened to me? It all happened too fast I didn’t know what was really going on. I tried so hard to reach the surface of the water. I felt a little dizzy. Sharp pain attacking me. As I opened my eyes, I heard the devils laughing from the far distance. Hahahahaha. I was confused. What? Am I dead?
“Cekmi!!!!! Your face!!” I heard a faint voice. Wawa was shouting at me. I touched my face. I could feel the chilly blood rushing out my face. Then, I felt a soft flesh on my face. Whose flesh? Oh my God! Oh my God! I got panicked. Really.
“My face!!!!!” I was shouting madly. I quickly got out of the pool, searched a mirror nearby and what I found later was almost unbelievable. I saw a fresh flesh ripped off my own face. I looked like a monster. A shrek. A Phantom of Opera. I saw darkness. My whole world was going down. It would be the end of my life... I am dead! Cekmi is ugly!
As Wawa quickly took me to a clinic, I gained my logic back. I recollected what had happened to me. To my astonishment, I found this fact - my whole face smashed so badly into the swimming pool basement! I realized then that the swimming pool was only 1 metre deep. 1 metre! And all this while, I thought it was 9 metres, like the one in my university. I noticed that there actually was a sign next to the pool. What was I thinking? I was supposed to be well aware of that.
The doctor checked my face, and said to me, “You’d better get an X-ray test and check whether your brain is still intact.” Intact? Am I going crazy? Is my brain cracked? A lot of frightening questions popped into my mind. Well, I was a little relieved since I still could think of all this while I was worried. Hmmm, I am still sane.
I was later rushed into KL General Hospital. The results – 11 stitches! 8 on my forehead and 3 on my nose!
The doctor later ran an X-ray test into my brain and – thank God – the smash did not affect any important “wires” in my brain. However, as the doctor said, it was almost nearly there, that I was darn lucky I didn’t end up in Tanjung Rambutan. Phew!
Few months later, I started working in the college, with my face still looked like a crippled ogre. My friend recommended a lot of expensive artificial medicines to heal and get rid of the scars. Well, it worked out but it has not been physically satisfactory. I am thinking of getting a minor surgery. Is it expensive? Is it religiously permissible? Well, I am not going to change God's nature, am I? I just want my original face back.
Whatever I have become, the scars keep reminding me to appreciate God’s blessings. God could take them anytime He wants. Whenever. Wherever. Most importantly, this swimming disaster has never discouraged me from going near to a swimming pool. In fact, I have become a better swimmer, only that I dare not try the summersault style anymore. Those devils might come back again, just like those Final Destination movies, which continue to haunt me.
I am glad I am still cute. Hehehe.
Oh, by the way, did you notice the leftovers of 11 stitches on my face above? Labels: cekmi's memory lane |
| mused by cekmi @ 6:16 PM |
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| Thursday, November 02, 2006 |
| A Night To Forget |
Sorry students. I hate to say this. But honestly, I didn’t enjoy it. At all. Business Communication Grand Dinner – as the name clearly suggests - was supposed to be a night full of grandness and treasured memories. But, there had been so many unexpected things happened that night that had spoilt my mood. I know, it was an important night for you, a night to get together with your beloved friends before you leave the college very soon, but for me, it was a night of disaster, which was not worth attending to. Frankly speaking, I regretted that I actually was there. Tough revelation, isn’t it? But you must know this.  The theme, first of all, was supposed to be a grand dinner for graduating students especially Business Communication students, but it was messed up with the concept of Raya gathering. IIC Eid Gathering? What is this? You should stick to a grand dinner concept. I saw a lot of people were confused too, not aware of the theme changes. Funny mixture of formal and informal outfits were seen everywhere. As for me, I had prepared for a formal dinner outfit, but was informed on a very short notice that I had to wear Raya outfit. I ended up with a Deeparaya style – a white Indian kurta (correct spelling?) covered with a green shawl and a songkok. The moment I stepped out of my house, I didn’t like the way I dressed up. I looked like an Indian politician going for a cheap campaign or a Tabligh ustaz who did not belong to a glamorous event (Why the hell, in the first place, did I choose those disastrous fashions for a grand dinner?). This uncomfortable feeling subconsciously ignited the chains of the following unpleasant details. The programme was supposed to commence at 8pm (until that time, I didn’t receive any tentative program and was merely informed verbally, which I initiated myself). Being meticulous, I made some allowance for traffic jam, so I started the journey as early as possible so that I could be there on time. However, when I punctually arrived at Dewan Merak Kayangan, I was informed that the venue was changed to Dewan Perdana Felda. Hmmm. You should’ve informed me this earlier. I got pissed off. When I arrived at Dewan Perdana Felda, I found that I was among the unluckiest bunch of people who were being victimized by the sickening janji melayu. Only few students were there. No one was bothered to usher me to my seat. I didn’t expect for a VIP treatment (although I was supposed to be one of them), but at least, there should be someone accompanying me when I arrived there. Show some respect, okay. I really got pissed off. So I got back to my car and waited inside the car - waiting uncomfortably for other ‘VVIPs’ to arrive. The programme gradually started at 9pm. For the record, I waited stupidly inside my car for one stupid hour! What a lousy job to do. The whole programme that night was terribly coordinated. Full of mess. In fact, it was the worst event I have ever attended to. No usherers. Latecomers. Traffic jam? Come on, you should have expected this. Hello! This is KL okay, not your kampongs. Why can’t you guys be a little punctual? What have you learned in my class? (Business communication students konon). I really really got pissed off.  Trying hard to smile, I did my best to compensate my inconvenience with the supposedly exciting programs planned for the dinner. But, things turned out even uglier. The foods were far too simple to be considered grand. The student band sang so badly it hurt my ears so annoyingly (Were they singing or talking?). The MC invited one of my colleagues to sing. Fine. But, have a courtesy to invite me as well. Not that I am talented singer, but it was a generous act to do so, even if I might refuse. In fact, I had in mind to sing one of my favourite songs, but no one bothered to ask me to. And suddenly, the MC asked someone to sing and that fella sang my favourite song. Argh!
I got pissed off again.
At the end of the program, the MC did the biggest mistake in the universe. He forgot to mention my name during appreciation award for Business Communication lecturers. When the MC finally called my name, I felt so dejected and downgraded.
I extremely got so pissed off (I really wish I wasn’t there).
Students, I know it was your first time organizing such a big event. But, that was not the excuse to be a bad organizer. Please. Please get some advice form the learned to do things in a right way. Indeed, you are going to have a hard time later in a post-mortem session. Wait and see.
Oh, I want my dinner money back. Labels: cekmi's beastly grumbles |
| mused by cekmi @ 3:53 PM |
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