| Tuesday, March 27, 2007 |
| Ipoh Mali |
 After a few futile attempts
I finally got what I have been craving for
Ipoh White Coffee
Going to Ipoh has always been fun
Mission fulfilled.Labels: cekmi's wild moments |
| mused by cekmi @ 1:57 PM |
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| Friday, March 16, 2007 |
| The One With A Happy Ending |
The second semester has just ended. No longer waking up at the wee hours as early as 5.45 a.m. everyday, 30 minutes’ cold shower, 30 minutes’ dreaming in front of the mirror, 20 minutes’ lonely driving, and 60 minutes’ waiting for the eyes to have the shape of an energetic happy lecturer. And at 8, the happiest clown is transformed, ready to sail his English class through the liveliest journey ever. Well, those things ended a week ago. No more pretending. No more make-believe stories. I don’t know what to feel now. Happy? Maybe.
This semester, my students waited until the last class to please me.
“Sir, can we form a big circle among all of us?” asked Yati, the monitor of the class. I was perplexed, and answered with a fall-rise tone, “Okay...” What the hell these students are up to? Are they going to throw a surprise party? No way, I don’t think they know how to appreciate their lecturers, let alone giving gifts. (Well, don’t get me wrong, dear readers. I am not expecting them, but I would be very honored if they do). For three years, none of my imaginary things ever happened. Knowing the attitude of my students, the college would go on fire if they conduct a surprise party for their lecturer.
“Sir,” Yati began the seemingly prepared speech, “we are here to thank you for teaching us. We like your teaching style, so funny and happy-go-lucky. We are so happy to have you as our English lecturer.” What on earth do these people know about happy teaching?
Kamal raised and said code-switchingly, “On behalf of the boys, we would like to apologise and minta ampun because we all selalu datang lambat kelas and tak hantar assignment on time. But you are very kind Sir, tak pernah marah pun.” Opss…!
Yati raised and took out something from her bag. “We have something for you sir.” I was stunned and whispered, “What is this?” Yati smiled. She handed me three boxes of beautiful gifts. And everybody started to exchange their gifts. A photography session followed. It was perfect. I have never felt so blessed to be a lecturer.
Later, when they asked me to speak, I was strangely nervous. But I managed to get myself composed and this is my farewell speech: “Guys, I have never expected that you are gonna do this to me. I mean, the last time I experienced this was ten years ago, when I was a student like you, organizing a farewell party for my lecturer. I thought my students here would never do the things that I used to do. But, today I am proven wrong. I am so overwhelmed. Thanks a lot. You are so nice.”
“You know what, let me tell you a secret. I never get angry with you guys because I am not your grandfather to nag you all the time. I am not that old okay. I am your friend here, and I like Simple Plan also, like you all do. Well, why should I be bothered that you come late. You are grownups. And I want to treat you as adults. It’s you class. And it’s your marks that matter. I am not the one who is going to pass or fail. You know the rule, and you are the one who will bear the consequences, not me. So, I am not bothered, but guys, listen, my silence doesn’t mean that I agree. I am not a malay wannabe bride who is supposed to be silent to agree to get married. Now, I must tell you again, what you did was obviously wrong, and again, you are the one who is going to change that attitude, not me.”
“However, what matters most to me in this class is that you are happy. Whatever you do here, assignments, homework, or whatsoever, do it happily. This is my principle, my simple plan. Be happy! Shut up all the worries. Learning English ought to be enjoyable. There is no point that you come here everyday at 8 o’clock, wake up early everyday, but then, you are not happy. Life is too short. We are not going to meet here everyday. Sooner or later, we will say good bye, like today. We are not sure whether we will meet again in the future. So, be happy while we are still here, together.”
I am not sure whether I really meant the things that I said. But, I am pretty sure that that was one of the rare occasions which have the Bollywood-style endings, a happy ending.
(This post was originally published by cekmi at dannyhussainy.blogspot.com on April 5, 2005)
Labels: cekmi's darling episodes |
| mused by cekmi @ 3:23 PM |
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| Tuesday, March 13, 2007 |
| This Is My House |
Wanna know where I live?
Come on. Follow me.
Now, you gotta go through this death alley.
This way please. Yes, go down there.
 Wowwo..! You gotta be very very careful, darling.
This road is dangerously shallow, steep and bumpy. When you drive a big car like that, be extremely watchful, because this third-world looking passage is potentially capable to scratch the bottom of your expensive, lowered car like this. Slow down please, slow down, yes.
You know what, friend. Poor Jimi. He is always unluckily victimized by this road’s poor condition. To avoid this, everybody has to get out of his car to reduce the car weight, so the car wouldn’t hit the bumpy road. Funny, right? My housemate also has the same problem, always slowing down his car at a nail’s pace when driving through this car-unfriendly alley. But, not for a professional driver like me. I would just drive effortlessly and zoom like a professional F1 driver. Fast and efficient. Not a single scratch.
Okay alhamdulillah. You are now down past the chilling alley. Congratulations! Your car is safe. You can park your car here. No, don’t look back at that alley. Hmm, pretty scary, isn’t it?
 Look! That’s my rented house.
 No, no. Not that bungalow on the high land. For God’s sake, that’s my landlord’s house (I will tell you about my kind landlord in a short while, be patient). There. My house is that single storey house. Let’s get a better view.
 See? There are six units of these look-alike landed lot properties. Mine is one of them. Let’s get closer. Talk a walk with me. Come on.
 Keep moving. Hmm. No one is around. It is always like this. Quiet. My house is located there, there, there. That side. Yes, with a tired-looking sofa in front of it. Cool, ek?
 There you go. Taraa….! This is where I live. What do you think? Kampung house? Of course, it is. Sorry to disappoint you. I am not staying in a posh condominium. Honestly, I am tired of high-rise buildings. After those tiring years of staying far above the gravity, I finally decided to go back to traditions, by choosing a kampung residence, like this. Yes, I have been living here happily for 20 months (For the record, this is my tenth rented house, if I am not mistaken lah. Lost count already).
After staying here for quite some time, I can claim that this is the best living area I have ever been in my life. It is perfectly harmonious for a melancholic bachelor like me. When I looked at this house for the first time, I was thinking of a remote resort. Quiet. Peaceful. Safely isolated. (You can hear the roosters crowing at odd hours, knowing how the urban man lives).
So, I have lived in the house mostly alone. I truly enjoy the beauty of loneliness. But, I did and do have a housemate. Two different housemates actually. The first one was an Indonesian friend, who stayed here for only three months and moved out when he decided to settle down (No, I did not kick him out. Don’t believe the rumours, my dear). The second housemate is a good Ipoh friend, who has been with me for three months. Yes, he is currently my housemate. No, he is not in the house now. He is out-station. Always busy (I will talk about my next-top-model housemate later, okay?).
All right. Now, let’s talk about the surrounding of this house. The neighbours are mostly families, who sleep at 10.30 p.m. every night (so, you can imagine the stillness of my beautiful nights here). They are diplomatically friendly, although I hardly communicate with them. Well, maybe a little chit-chat and gossip once in a blue moon. But, they are very nice people. Oh, that’s Kak Nor. There. See? She gave me that smile again. She always gives me that strange look whenever I smile at her. I don’t know. Shhh. I have a feeling that she might think that I am flirting with her. Excuse me friend, I am not into someone’s desperate housewives, okay.
My landlord? Yes. She is unbelievably friendly and helpful. A typical Kelantanese woman. Busy-like look. Busybody. I like her a lot, not because we are from the same root, but for other non-racial reasons. Her whole family has migrated to KL and lived happily ever after in that English-style bungalow at the back of my house. Their house is so close to mine I could easily eavesdrop on their conversations from my kitchen (I always wonder whether they do the same too). Interestingly, she refuses to speak to me in Kelantan. Instead, she prefers to speak in a standard KL language, although her Kelantanese budu accent can be easily noticed. Well, she got style, man. One thing about her that I like most is that she takes care of the welfare of her tenants, and you can get better “perks” when you know how to talk to her in a subtle way.
Let me tell you a story. There was a time during a raining season. The ground areas around my house became so muddy that they caused inconvenience for the tenants, especially me who had to stare grimly at my newly-washed car and newly-polished shoes being always covered in soil and mud. So, to fight for my rights as a lawful tenant, I went to see this Lord of the Land.
“Excuse me mak cik,” I started with a smile. Gaining my composure and confidence, I continued, “We have a little problem down there.”
“What is it, son?” she asked me quite motherly.
“Well mak cik, apparently, it is raining season right now. And the whole area is now covered with dirt and lopak.”
“Really? Okay, I will see into that later.” See? Can you see it now? It is in front of your eyes! I said this to her in my private thoughts.
“Mak cik,” I whispered to her, “my friends always come over to my house. They always say: “Aren’ t your landlord taking care of your welfare?”. I was shocked mak cik. Really. I was embarrassed actually with my friends’ comments. Because, I know my landlord is not like that. She is a very kind woman, who knows how to take care of her tenants’ welfare.”
She was strangely quiet. I immediately excused myself and left.
Few hours later, I found this all over the place in front of my house. See this.
 Ops, sorry my sweetheart. You have been standing there so patiently for a long time listening to my stories, and I haven’t even invited you into my pondok. I am very sorry. I am a poor host, I know. Come on, come on. Get inside. Take off your shoes first, of course. Silakan masuk.
Tafaddhol mashkuro. Labels: cekmi's true colours |
| mused by cekmi @ 11:09 AM |
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| Thursday, March 08, 2007 |
| Yes, he did it! |
Remember Shazlee? He has fought it He has conquered it He has strong-willed it And yes, he finally did it Look at him now… What an incredible brat What crazy naughtiness What a couldn’t-be-bothered man Amazing bravery Miraculous turn-out Unbelievable courage Inspiring life-time achievement Look at his outrageous act Here he came to me out of a sudden Smiling nonchalantly As if nothing has happened How many people could do this Having this rare chance Being at a live-or-die stage Going through two chemotherapy Coming back alive Telling people how indescribable How unspeakable the pain was Cherished this story should be Remembered this man should be Learnt this experience should be Awarded this courage should be Because he is a cancer survivor And he really IS The Antonym of Dying Labels: cekmi's dear sweethearts |
| mused by cekmi @ 6:09 PM |
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| Tuesday, March 06, 2007 |
| Opss, he did it again! |
After my mother’s passing away
This ride has been a roller-coaster
And my father has been lonely
Just like his old Toyota
 It was a classic type of loneliness
Longing for companionship
Companion? Not to worry
He finally got it here
 This menopause-like Toyota is smiling
Finding a womanly Fiat partner
They are a perfect combination of love
Don’t you think so?
The ride of love never dies
Maybe it stops for a few moments
Searching for better views
Hoping for better rewards
Indeed, the reward is coming
On its way to our family
Long after 19 years
It is happening again
This recent development
It is unbelievably pleasant
It will bring our family closer
As we are growing bigger
This big surprise came to me yesterday
“Your mother is hospitalized,” said my father
“What happened father?” I was worried
My father just laughed
I was perplexed
“Don’t worry son,” assured my father
I was waiting for his next answer nervously
He finally said: “Your Ummi is having a baby.”
Opss.. my father did it again!
 Labels: cekmi's family affairs |
| mused by cekmi @ 9:34 AM |
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| Friday, March 02, 2007 |
| My SHORT Tale |
I am short.
Physically.
With only five-feet-and-three-inch tall, I am always subject to various situations of belittlement, embarrassment, and to certain extent, humiliation.
I still keep my application form for the position of a MAS steward
I keep refusing my friend's invitation to a modeling agency
I hate being in the middle of the standing crowd during any concerts at KLCC
I don't ask my students to stand up when answering my questions
I avoid being paired with any giraffe-like guys for class presentations
I don't usually walk side by side with my six-feet-tall friends
Adding to these insults and ridicules, I am always doomed to various unpleasant real-life associations.
Shortcomings are not welcome in any college projects
Shortsightedness is the sign of much dreaded aging
Shortcut scheme to rich and success is a disaster
Short-circuit is the curse for all KLians
Okay tall people, you can have a laugh now. I know, laughter is the best medicine. So keep laughing. Ha Ha Ha. Hi Hi Hi. Hu Hu Hu. Are you done? Okay now, short people, I have loads of good news for you. Take a look at these facts.
The SMSers use all sorts of short forms to save their fingers
The similes are used by bloggers to shortly show their feelings
The people's names are shortened as terms of endearments
The telegram is composed of as shortest sentences as possible
The shortcut road is used by smart drivers to minimise the hassles
The effective minutes of the meetings must be concise and short
The short-listed candidates for an interview are a lucky bunch
The shorthand is an essential skill for students and reporters
Moreover, in Malay cultures, the fact that someone is short can be a blessing.
The marriage will last longer if short men marry tall ladies
The kancil, in Malay classic bed-time stories, was intelligent and short
The old Malay folks used to say, "kecil-kecil cili padi..."
Besides, many successful individuals are mostly from the short community.
The linguistic lecturer I adore so much was very brilliant, and short too
The CEO of my company is very transparent, and short too
The Japanese are very genius, and short too
The hobbit who got that ring was cute, and short too
The America's Most Gorgeous Male Model is very handsome, and short too
(maybe their shortnesses make them strive more to compensate their shortcomings, uk?)
Linguistically, the English language is very happy to permit all sorts of amusing short forms.
WHO, CALL, ME, etc. - the products of acronyms
Enthuse, televise, liaise etc. - the products of backformations
Brunch, smog, motel, etc. - the products of blends
Math, bike, fax, etc. - the products of abbreviations
Burp, buzz, hiss, etc. - the products of onomatopoeia
(it is funny to realize that the terms 'abbreviations' and 'onomatopoeia' are two such long words for their short counterparts, isn't it?)
So, all the shorties around the world, being short is not that bad, uh?
*the roundest applause*
Thank you.
From a short lecturer.
(This post was originally published by cekmi at dannyhussainy.blogspot.com on March 7, 2005) Labels: cekmi's disorienting rumbles |
| mused by cekmi @ 12:21 PM |
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