Re: This life

2009-02-22T16:32:00.001+08:00

Hey there Constant Reader!
Those of you who know me personally will know that Farah’s coming home at the end of April. *Sigh* another two whole months of eating my own cooking. *sigh*

Anyway, I’ve recently started scouting out potential cars to buy in the next 6 months. Well, she will be needing a car by the time she starts working in September, and I thought it’d be nice if I could buy her a car as a birthday present sometime in August.

Since she wanted something small-ish, sporty and in her own words, “bukan macam kereta roti ban” e.g. Kelisa, Suzuki Swift etc. I’ve somewhat narrowed down the criteria to these:

1. Priced up to MYR100,000

2. “Bukan macam roti ban”

3. Safety features must include airbags, ABS, EBD.

4. Sporty

The cars I’m thinking about currently are:
Peugeot 308 VTI
Honda City i-VTEC
Honda Civic & Civic Hybrid (okay, these are above MYR100k, but they’re an exception!)
Fiat Bravo (no idea what the price is)
Proton Satria Neo CPS
Toyota Vios
Suzuki Swift (despite the ban-ness)

So today, I trundled along Jalan Bangsar after Zohor prayers, and decided to stop by the Peugeot showroom. Seems I’m in luck: a couple had just finished with the test-drive 308 VTI model, and in the space it took to say, “Man, that car’s bigger than I thought it was”, I was strapped in the driver’s seat, grinning from ear to ear.

I can’t help it. I love European cars. I know the resale value is pretty limited, but heck.

First impressions were good. The car’s a bit bigger than I had expected from the pictures I’ve seen. Sliding effortlessly into the driver’s seat, it seems that the dashboard was pretty well designed, conveying an impression of sporty elegance and spaciousness. AC vents (five of ‘em in front, two at the back) were well-styled, reminding me of a Mini Cooper. Speaking of Mini’s, the engine of the 308 VTi is the same as the latest-generation Mini, due to the engine being a collaboration between Peugeot and BMW.
Coming back to the driver’s seat perspective, the seat position was pretty high, making me feel like I’m driving an SUV. This allowed for a clear view of the road, and I did not notice substantial blindspots during the test drive (unlike the massive B-pillar obstruction on my BMW 118i). I’m sure the seat is adjustable for those preferring a more “cockpit”-ty feel, but for lady drivers, I think they’d appreciate the extra visibility one gets from the 308. Especially when parking the butt-heavy beast.

Speaking of safety, the 308 VTi’s packed with what I need: 4 airbags (front only), ABS, EBA & EBD, auto rear-hazard lights on emergency braking & 2 ISOFIX points (The saleswoman claimed there were three ISOFIX points for baby seats at the back, but I noticed in the official specs brochure that there was only two. Still, it’s better than most cars).

The drive was smooth, with the engine purring through the KL roads. At 120 hp @ 6,000 rpm and torque of 160 Nm @ 4,250 rpm, it was no slouch, but still it struggled a bit going uphill at Bukit Pantai (compared to the Beemer). Mind you, most cars in its class would struggle there anyway. Having said that, one would have to keep revving the car at a pretty high rate to enjoy the torque; I didn’t get the chance to drive the Turbo version, but with a whopping 240Nm of torque @ 1,400 rpm, I think it’s safe to say that performance-wise, the Turbo version kicks the VTi a$$ big-time.

Steering was nice and tight; it did not feel too light, although I did not feel much steering feedback as I would have liked. Braking was also too light for my liking, and I had to adjust my usual braking style to the 308: my usual leaden-footed gimme-all-you-got braking manoeuvre would have resulted in a messy rear-ender in about 5 seconds flat.

Rear seats were sufficient. Definitely bigger legroom than my current car. Rear AC vents is cool: no longer will I hear requests like “can you adjust the AC to the back, please?” Bootspace is a substantial 430 litres, smaller than the City, but sufficient for most purposes.

Overall, I like this car. The VTi may be underpowered to a certain degree, but maybe I’m used to more powerful cars. It’s all subjective at the end of the day anyway. I think the resale value for this car is going to be better than most Pugs, given its increasing popularity... more so the Turbo version than the VTI, I think. And at MYR96,500 on-the-road price, it won’t burn a hole in your pocket (financing package: up to 90% loan @ 2.5-2.7%).

Well, not as big a hole as a Jazz anyway.

Next up... the 2009 Honda City!

.:Time for a revamp:.

2009-01-17T03:25:00.005+08:00

Dear Constant Reader (are there any of you left by now??),

After all this time, I've just realised that I have not blogged for more than a year. Good grief. Where have I been? Truthfully, many things have happened. In what seems to be the blink of an eye (albeit one very long, drawn-out, super-extended.. err.. blink), I got married, went on a honeymoon, sent my wife back to Dublin (okay, only as far as KLIA...), moved to Standard & Poor's, picked up my wife from Dublin (okay, only as far as KLIA...), went to China, came back from China, sent my wife back to Dublin (okay, only as far as... wait... stop pointing the gun at me), joined a gym and tried (very hard) to play futsal last night.

I've also discovered how supremely unfit I actually am. It is hard enough trying to kick the bloody ball when you lack the basic eye-to-feet-to-teammate coordination (in my case it usually turns out to be eye-to-feet-to-grinning-opposition-at-the-expense-of-glaring-teammate coordination) and all the general trappings one would require to be a decent futsal player. It is pretty near impossible when you're trying to breathe through the equivalent of three blow's worth of snot stuck somewhere between your heaving, screaming lungs and that gob of meat between your watering, squinting eyes.

They must've invited me to play simply for the sheer comedic value. Yes, that must be it.

Anyway, Constant Reader, I'm back. Let's hope it's for good this time.

.:Submission:.

2008-01-06T17:46:00.001+08:00

An English translation of Muhammad Ubaid's "Ilaika", which is a beautiful expression of love and hope for Allah, in my opinion. This translation is imperfect and does not do it any justice, given it's an English translation of a Malay translation* of Ubaid's nasyeed, which in turn is based on the original Arabic text from Imam Shafi'e's Diwan Al-Shafi'e. Any weakness is on my part alone.

But you get the idea... *sniff*

*Thanks to Mashie for the Malay translation from Arabic!

I submit my hopes to You, O Lord of all creation,
Though I am, O The Provider, Most Generous, a sinner,
When my heart is hardened, and my life is constricted,
I turn to my submission as the way to Your pardon,
Thus when You, The All-forgiving, wipe clean my continuing sins,
Your gift and Your clemency is a boon and an exaltation to me.

Is it not You who nourishes me, guides me?
Therefore cease not your benevolence and bounty to me,
May those who have obtained excellence forgive me my trespass,
And parade not my wrongdoings and things that have passed.

Should You forgive me, O Lord, absolve me of my treachery,
My injustice, that will be pardoned not on the day when grief is recollected,
But should you recompense my wrongs with your torment, still I will not lose hope,
Even as my trespass lands me in the Fire.

He is the one who speaks only in remembrance of his Lord,
And when he is with others in this world, he is silent,
Thus he says, “O my love, You are the One I beseech to, on Whom I place my faith,
Enough is You for those in need for their dependence and their pleas”.

Thus I defend my love, though they be tainted with worldly lust,
Thus I protect this promise of devotion, marred though they may be,
In my waking moments, I pine for You,
In my slumber, I hope for You,
Walking beside me, full of hope,
Thus though my sins are mountainous, then and now,
Far greater and more illustrious is Your compassion to Your servants.

.:Message in a bottle:.

2007-09-29T13:16:00.000+08:00

Dear reader,

I hope this message finds you well and safe. Safe from the horrors that leave me awake at night, every single tick of the clock magnified a thousandfold into the beating of an undead heart, booming, overriding any impulse nor desire for sleep.

You see, dear readers, I am haunted. There. It is said and done. I will now await the men bearing chains and a straitjacket. He is mad! they say. Yet they know not. I will prove them wrong!

Behold, gentle readers! the demon that haunts me!!!

I believe it prefers the shape of a very studious and analytically-minded green frog-thing. As the following picture shows, it started haunting me even back in my old accommodations... always watching, always waiting...

Curse ye! Ye demon from the depths of madness!

Post scriptum: the author of the above note has since been incarcerated for his own safety. Oddly, he keeps mentioning the green demon is awaiting the return of the yellow angel. For some assuredly strange reason. I think.

Reads: Genghis Khan: Life, Death & Reincarnation by John Man

.:Ramadhan:.

2007-09-12T22:37:00.001+08:00

Hi there Constant Readers!

Hooray!! It's that time of the year again. Yup. Ramadhan. The fasting month for Muslims world-wide. In and of itself, the month is a special one. However, over the last couple of years, it's significance has really grown on me. It is in this month that one recharges one's spiritual batteries for the rest of the year. And boy, do I need some recharging.

Ramadhan Mubarak, dear readers! May this be the best Ramadhan ever for you!

.:Ships and Power Generators Don't Mix:.

2007-08-15T18:40:00.000+08:00

Dear Constant Reader,

How have you been? I know it's been a while since I updated this blog, but in the meantime, a lot of things have been happening. Just so you know, I've settled into my job here at Nomura, halfway through my coverage. Passed my licensing exams already, so should not be long before I get my aforesaid license. Managed to spectacularly fail CFA Level II (Note to self: find your studying hat and dump it on your noggin, please). Bought Farah's wedding ring and other miscellaneous jewellery to go along with it. Moved to a new place (actually just the apartment one floor up), which incidentally has air-conditioning (yay! the marvels of modern technology!)... etc etc.

Oh yeah, I've also bought a house in Rawang.

Now, before any of you decide to pipe up and scream, "Rawang??!! That's like, in the county next to the traffic sign and up the ramp that leads to the middle of Nowhere, Malaysia!!", I do freely admit that it's miles from anywhere. However, I kind of like it that way. I don't really want my children to grow up in KL. I'm a kampung guy at heart, and as much as you try to outrun it, you can never really escape who you truly are. So I long for the clear skies, tall shady trees, streets unspoilt by the roar of speeding cars, open spaces where my children can roll around on the grass and get scruffy while Farah (who will be Mrs Ahmad by then, Insya-Allah) nags them to death for soiling their newly-washed pants while I watch with a smile, knowing that I'll soon have to reproach the boys in front of their mother. of course, I was the one who gave them permission to roll around in the first place, but their mother doesn't need to know that.

Oopss.

Amidst this complex web we weave every single day, with every single person that we meet, I long for a simpler life. I yearn for that which makes me whole. Not money, I certainly have enough of that. Not style, I think I'm adequately endowed when it comes to that. Not love, I am lucky enough to be loved unconditionally by the woman of my dreams.

I long for peace, to be honest. Luckily, Ramadhan is around the corner; a chance to find peace, and seek solace from the Eternal Love, once again.

Reads: The War of the World, Niall Ferguson

.:A month of brain-rotting:.

2007-06-26T16:21:00.000+08:00

Hey there Constant Reader,

I have officially resigned from Deutsche Bank, although my last day will be this Friday June 29th. Friends & acquaintances who would like to celebrate this closing of a chapter in my life are more than welcome to a round of drinks somewhere in KLCC. But please, bring your own credit-card. =)

By the by, I will be joining Nomura Securities as a research analyst from Aug 1...

One whole month's worth of free time! Actually, when you consider the fact that I have to sit for my SC exams, and also find time to get my wedding stuff sorted (although the wedding itself is due in July next year, this is probably the only window I have to get things sorted before then), and also get up to speed with my coverage, I do not think I'll have that much time to rot my brains away to be honest.

Farah's back in town! Yay!!!

Mood: Happy!
Reads: How to win friends & influence people, Dale Carnegie.

.:No worries:.

2007-04-08T21:00:00.000+08:00

Dear readers,

Lately this song has been playing in my head. It's probably a children's song, but I guess I could learn a thing or two from it. After all, what's the point of worrying about the challenges coming up, when in truth it is all part and parcel of Allah's plan for me? For indeed, Allah is sufficient for me, and the best of Protectors.

Heading off to Singapore for a two-week stint soon, folks. Wish me luck!

Oh the moon has come
The day is done
The night has covered up the sun.
I have stood so often before you to pray
But I wonder Allah, tell me, what did I do today?

Did I remember the words of Al-Fatiha?
Did I take time to thank you for all that I have?
Did I call on you to guide my way?
Tell me, what did I do today?

...Did I smile at my brother?
Was I kind to my mother?
Did I teach another something that I know
Or did my love of this world lead me astray?
Tell me, what did I do today?

...Did I use my mind?
Did I use my time?
If I search my heart what will I find?
The light of your guidance is a glimmering ray,
Tell me, what did I do today?

- Dawud Wharnsby Ali, "What Did I Do Today?"

.:When in Dublin:.

2007-01-18T17:30:00.000+08:00

Now, I've heard of the rumour that when some researchers in some university tested some banknotes for some scientific study or other (makes you wonder where or indeed what our research grants are going into, seeing as these scientists could actually afford to test bank notes - instead of spending the darned quid on a sandwich or two), they discovered traces of cocaine on the notes.

Now, however, Jonathan Bones of Dublin City University’s National Centre for Sensor Research has apparently found that from a sample of 45 random banknotes, 100% of them had traces of cocaine.

...

Given that Dublin's widely considered as one of the most expensive cities in Europe, it's a wonder anyone can actually afford drugs over here.

Oh and a sidenote, I'm in Dublin right now, in case you haven't figured it out yet, dear Reader.

Ta!

Some thoughts on why we all need to breathe

2007-01-06T17:03:00.000+08:00

Hey there folks.

I'm trying to fulfill my new years' resolution to update more often, so bear with me while I put my writing hat, so often left untouched over the course of last year, back where it belongs, which is to say, erm.. without overcomplicating things, my big ol noggin.

The year has started off in a crazy way I must say. The first three days back at work in January has resulted in two late night sessions already, and its increasingly looking like I'll have a working Sunday tomorrow, just to finish up my research note by Monday afternoon. Sigh. The crazy things I do for this company. Okay, the bonus makes up for all the suckitude throughout the year, but still...

But enough talking shop. I discovered an interesting thing today. Some of you may know that I was nominated by a friend (Nida, you know who you are!) for a certain award run by a certain women's magazine. Obviously I didn't win (not that it matters... really... *sniff*), but I just realised that the voting page is still up, and my nomination is still there. Feels kinda weird to read what she wrote; brings back a lot of memories.

In truth, I'm glad things happened the way they did. I guess at the end of the day, Allah just wanted me to have something better, someone who actually loved me, instead of an automaton who can't really see the woods for the trees (Sorry, ex-of-mine, didn't mean to lambast you there, but there's really no other way to describe it).

Having said that, I really, really wish I didn't have to go through all that sh*t, the pain of having to disassociate myself from her circle of friends, deleting her emails, burning her crap that had piled up in my room, erasing every trace of a life I had built up in my head. It was unfair, it was cruel, it was heart-rending, not just for myself, but for my friends as well, who could see me go through hell and back again, for the second time in my life.

Why am I going through this? Well, I know a couple of acquaintances who are going through tough times. I can't tell you it doesn't hurt, because it hurts like hell. I can't tell you that you'll feel better tomorrow, because you may feel as shitty tomorrow as you do today. But I can tell you that I've been there before, and I've gone down to the depths of despair, as far down as you are now. Grieve if you must, but just remember that you need to come up to breathe every once in a while.

Oh well. C'est la vie. What goes up, must come down someday. And no one stays down forever, Insya-Allah.

Crimbo bells, Batman smells, Robin lays an egg (yuck)..

2006-12-25T15:29:00.000+08:00

Hey there folks.

Been a long time eh? It seems that the suckitude and the blodelays (the latter is a new word... means delays in updating one's blog... the former is attributable to a fellow blogger) is going to continue in future. Sorry guys. I just don't feel like updating that often anymore. Possibly because of the fact that there's not that many interesting things to talk about anymore in my life. Of course, I could talk about politics (or how the world is going to hell in a handbasket), but I'm feeling a little too shallow for all that heavy stuff right now. My teeny-weeny brain just shuts down whenever one mentions the word 'geo-political'. This does not bode well for the future.

Anyway, as I promised Farah that I'd post the results of my recent culinary experiments on the web, here's some pics of my version of Beef Braciole with handmade linguini pasta and chickpeas.

Work in progress. Yes, I know, there's only one piece of beef in there. As you probably know very well, I don't think i'llbe cooking for more than one person for at least the next 1.5 years.

The end product. I must say I think the sauce was delish! =)

Till later folks.

.:Damn you, Murphy. Damn you to Heck!:.

2006-09-13T10:29:00.000+08:00

[I don’t know why I have this sudden urge to write something in Malay. I’m never the most comfortable using the language as a medium of expression, especially so in written terms. Bear with me]

Hari ni ada kisah sedih berlaku.

Macam biasalah, aku pi breakfast kat mamak belakang IMC tu. Yelah, after the morning meeting and duties dah abis, ada la window of about 20-30 mins, so boleh la isi perut and buang isi perut during that time. So, lepas makan, aku dengan bersahajanya (casually) membawa diri ke lobi lif.

[Oh man, that’s just too much effort. The rest of the story will be in English. Not to degrade the language or anything (in fact, I think it is one of the most expressive languages around), but you’re reading the ramblings of a person who had to go for “Kelas Pemulihan Rumusan” back in his MRSM days. I don’t think anyone should be put through that horror, period.]

So there I was, about to enter a jam-packed lift. As I walked in, I noticed that the floors 7,8,9, 11 and 12 were lit up. I pressed the level 18 button and prepared myself for a relatively long lift journey. Little did I know...

Being right smack in front of everyone, I naturally walked out of the lift at the 7th floor, assuming some of those behind me wanted to go out at that floor. As it turned out, only one solitary girl stepped out of the lift. I then turned around to step back in the lift.

Malaysians, being Malaysians, are unfamiliar, I suppose, with the concept of courtesy. Zebra crossings, it must be said, do not facilitate pedestrians in Malaysia. In fact, it is positively a tourist death-trap. Do not ever assume that the car heading your way will slow down once you step foot on that yellow and white strip of death; it will, in all likelihood, speed up instead of slowing down.

Anyhow, as soon as I stepped out, someone in the lift had pressed the ‘Door Close’ button. Naturally I got stuck trying to come in again. No biggie. At the eighth floor, I stepped out again to let my fellow lift-hoggers through, assuming all the time of course that it is plainly visible that I was simply trying to be courteous.

But it was not to be.

Again, only one single girl stepped out. Again, some imbecile had pressed the ‘Close Doors’ button. Again I got stuck. Someone muttered, “he don’t know which floor la. Aiyoh…”

Hello? Isn’t it obvious that I had pressed the level 18 button?

I gave up trying to be courteous then.

Lo and behold! The rest of the pack then decided to jostle me around like a chicken in a coop along with 500 other feathery friends as they all made a rush to exit the lift at the next floor.

*sigh*

At least I’ve managed to prove Murphy right this time around.

.:Hot Co-Eds!!!:.

2006-09-08T09:52:00.000+08:00

My dear Constant Reader,

I am so glad that the heading finally got your attention, old chap. It is, admittedly, rather not my style to be copying spam headlines in my email inbox as the title of a post, but nonetheless, it was my sincere wish to gain your inestimable attention that led me to do it. That, and the fact that the other choice was "17-inch pe*** extensions!!", which obviously will not work as well, if you do not mind me saying so.

I digress. The purpose of this post is to direct your attention to the setting up of my photopage at mayomyth.fotopages.com. I will hopefully be updating it as frequently as I do update this page (which means to say not very often, but I will try my best. Scout's honour and all that.)

I do hope you are keeping well, and I do hope to speak to you again soon. In the meantime, I remain,

Very affectionately yours,

Ahmad

.:Yadda yadda yadda (incoherent mumblings)...... yadda."

2006-09-06T12:24:00.000+08:00

Has it been that long, dear readers? the difference between the date for today's post and teh date of the last post seems to confirm this sneaking suspicion of mine that it HAS been an eternity in blogging terms since I last updated (oh, I should SO be awarded the Nobel prize or the Booker prize or the "whatever-it-is-they-award-people-who-have-moments-of-staggering-mental-clarity" prize for that particularly brain-stretching conclusion).

Anyway, time really flies when you're having fun. Work's been, well, work. Tiring and unpleasant at times, a huge rush and fun TBH at other times. I've been spending more time with Farah in the last two months than I've ever had in the last year. She's a breath of fresh air in this dull life of mine. Pity she's leaving for dublin soon. *sigh* And back into cold storage for you, dear heart o' mine.

It was good to see Mel again; I'm glad I've actually made my peace with her, and we could be friends again. It was also great to see the gang again; my, how your close friends never really change, they just grow a little older (and broader) every time you see 'em.

Lately, I keep getting woken up several times at night, thinking it was already 6 am and it's time to go off to work. A quick check on the clock would usually reveal it was only 2.30am or something of that sort. This would usually repeat itself every half an hour till I get to 6 am.

Am I stressed out? I'm always under stress, anyway.

Am I depressed? I don't think so. I'm sad that farah's leaving, but I'm dealing with it.

Or am I?

Mood: Neutral
Reads: Sherlock Holmes (of all things) - Hey, it takes me back to my younger days... so buzz off!
Listens: Snow Patrol; "Run"

.:as you wish:.

2006-07-24T10:12:00.000+08:00

Okay, time for more pics!

Farah and her relatives. Unfortunately, the only one I can remember now is Baiti (the one in white). Sorry, dear! (note to self: must draw family tree with pictures of each person. Must do this ASAP to avoid future embarassing moments)

Anticlockwise from right: Farah, mum, myself and Baiti.

The light of my life. (As Joe would say... "mamat ni jiwang karat siott!")

Clockwise from left: moi, Papa, Mama, Farah and Sarah (my sis).

That's all folks! (Okay, there are more pics, but most of em are of Farah, and I think you guys won't appreciate that as much as I would, right? =P)

.:Guilt trips:.

2006-07-17T08:54:00.000+08:00

Hello, folks. It's been a little tough lately, with SY being on maternity leave and most of the team being out marketing. Oh, not to mention the fact that YT has left the team to join Lion Cap in Singapore. I do miss him sometimes, in an entirely platonic way, of course.

As promised, here are some pictures of the engagement ceremony.
My dad (in green) with the rest of the convoy. Although I wasn't (technically) supposed to be there, I came along anyway. Pining hearts and all that jazz, ya know.

Aahh... here she comes...

The obligatory mother-in-law hug (of death/destruction/love*) * delete where appropriate. (Obviously love in this case, of course =P)

A new one for me, this. This is the 'menyuap gula' ceremony... whereby the relatives (on both sides) feed the future bride a spoonful of sugar each. Considering that there were upwards of 80 relatives that day, this would probably be the reason why Malaysia experienced a sudden sugar shortage in early July, as reported by major newspapers.

One ring to rule them all... Habib Jewels, on the other hand, would be far happier with at least three to four rings to rule them all, I think.

More in the next post..

.:In the meantime:.

2006-07-03T12:46:00.000+08:00

I am now officially engaged. However, pictures will only be posted as soon as I get my hands on them, which unfortunately will not happen anytime soon-ish.

So in the meantime, let us stick to the World Cup-mania sweeping the globe, by reproducing some quotes for your intellectual consumption:

"Home advantage gives you an advantage" - Sir Bobby Robson, former manager of Barcelona, Newcastle & England.

"... and the news from Guadalajara where the heat is 96 degrees Fahrenheit is that Falcao is warming up..." - Brian Moore, commentator.

"I don't think there is anybody bigger or smaller than Maradona." - Kevin Keegan, ex-player and manager of Newcastle, England & Manchester City.

"Very few of us have any idea whatsoever of what life is like living in a goldfish bowl, except of course, for those of us who are goldfish.' - Graham Taylor, former Watford & England manager, a.k.a. (rather cruelly) the Turnip.

Enjoy!

.:TMOASU (fn):.

2006-06-22T08:33:00.000+08:00

The Mother Of All Screw-Ups (for now).

I'm so tired I can't even begin to describe what went wrong last night. Suffice to ssay I got an earful today, thankfully dulled by my half-awake senses. And all this due to myself going home 'early' (read: 1.15 am).

FYI all this is made worse by the fact that the person who is as responsible for the cock-up as myself is not here this morning. So in effect, I have to take the fall.

*sigh*

A good way to start your day. Oh well. Accipere quam facere praestat injuriam.

.:A warning to the curious:.

2006-06-22T00:26:00.000+08:00

It is 12.22 am. Do you know where your RA's are?

.:Update:.

2006-06-21T23:57:00.000+08:00

At midnight, I am still here in the office.

.:What we need:.

2006-06-21T22:29:00.000+08:00

I am stuck in the office at 10:30pm. Not doing much, to be honest. Just sitting here, waiting for a report to be published. I tell you, GRCM is nothing but the devil in disguise, its sole aim and purpose in life being to make the lives of RAs and analysts as tough and as challenging as possible. If only I could give the DTP and SA teams a kick on their collective behind... just once. Okay? I won't ask for anything else for the next 10 zillion years, if only I could take a swing at that tantalisingly swaying toosh... please? pretty please? with a cherry on top? A REALLY big cherry even??

Come to think of it, there're still so many things I've yet to achieve with my life that I don't think I'd wish to shorten it by any amount of years simply for the pleasure of socking it to the authorities. Nor am I so self-sufficient as to not require any divine intervention for the next 10 zillion years, assuming I live that long.

*sigh* The pain of being a self-doubting critic.

Quote of the day:

'"You zee" said he, "it iz te bess vor zit still; and now you shall know who I be. Look at me! Zee! I am te Angel ov te Odd."

"And odd enough, too," I ventured to reply; "but I was always under the impression that an angel had wings."

"Te wing! vat vud I do mit te wing? Mein Gott! Do you take me vor a schicken??"'

- Poe, The Angel of the Odd

.:I mutter, therefore I am (slightly):.

2006-06-07T11:50:00.000+08:00

You know, I could actually begin (for the umpteenth time) by apologising to you, dear readers, for the lack of updates; and appealing to your gentle sensitivities for some understanding as to why I have not, in all honesty, been paying much attention to my blog @ CNA (channel news Ahmad) @ about the only way you can keep track of me, unless you're: (a) Farah (b) My parents (c) close friends (d) a stalker (Please delete where appropriate).

But I won't do that. ("Boy, that was a long-winded way to say something" - Internal Editor @ Resident conspiracy theorist)

Anyway, my brains are (yes, I have two brains, if you must ask, you pedantic muppet) officially stir-fried to heck. Results season went by without a hitch (albeit the majority of them came out last minute, by which time I was already on my CFA study leave, leaving Yiits with all the work - and for that I do *snicker* apologise*snicker*). I've got models to finish, reports to write, things to do. Plenty of things to do, but I can't really be bothered about them now. For you see, I am getting engaged.

Yes. Repeat after me. E-N-G-A-G-E-D. On the 1st of July. Insya-Allah.

Yes. Almost exactly one year to the day the shit hit the fan, I'm finding myself pleasantly bemused by the sight of so many diamond rings on display at Habib Jewels, while the salesman/saleswoman continues his pleasant and affable chatter just so he could wrangle as much of my hard-earned cash as possible out of my back pocket. I must admit, I know absolutely boll**ks about diamonds, but with so many friends already engaged and married, that should not be too much of a problem.

There is no feeling like it, you know? When she laughs, it is as if the world stands still for a second and all you can hear is the pleasant tinkling of bells in the distance, the delighted murmur of a brook gurgling in your back garden, the gentle breeze on a hot summers' day. All that is pleasant is she, and you are blind to her faults. Indeed, if the love is requited, she would be blind to yours too. It is a ridiculous thing, love. You do foolish things, you cut your heart to pieces, you pine for her all the time without fail. Your world seems desolate without her by your side. And then you're together, and you're sated, satisfied, happy. But for how long? One day, you will be separated, either by fate, or by the impenetrable boundaries that separate this world from the next. You know that. Deep in your heart you know that. But you still love her. Why?

Because, dear fool, love is madness. It is the triumph of the imagination over intelligence. To fear love is to fear life, and to fear life is to already be dead.

(Editor - "you sure you're not on drugs?")

.:I need a sofa:.

2006-05-11T12:13:00.000+08:00

I feel like doing some interior decoration.

But I don't really want to blow a lot of dough on it. After all, The place is only a rental. And to redecorate the living room according to my taste would mean, well... at least a sofa with clean, crisp lines, probably covered in neutral beige rough cloth-sack fabric with brown cushions laced with a black cloth down one of the sides. Oh and a coffee table, dark pine/black perhaps with straight legs and concealed-pullout magazine rack down the sides. Oh and an off-white porcelain bowl in the middle of the table with a small-ish potted plant, with black/white pebbles covering the earth. Oh and a floor-standing reading lamp with adjustable xenon/soft-light bulbs. Oh and maybe a wicker one seater couch by the window, and a comfy side table by its side with some books. Maybe some small-ish paintings/malay/islamic culture pieces in a big-ass black wooden frame with focused lighting on the walls.

Oh man, this is a bit too metro for me. Not to mention expensive. Forget it.

.:Irony:.

2006-04-28T11:09:00.000+08:00

"Always forgive your enemies, but never forget their names"

- Robert Kennedy.

But what if you never knew their names in the first place?

.:of hearts:.

2006-04-25T12:49:00.000+08:00

What's this?
This.. is a tired heart
It
seems to miss you
more than ever before.

What's that?
That... was a life
which I called my own,
bent
but now unravelled
I owe you for that, you know?

What are those?
Those... were the ashes
of my faith
burnt to the ground
but I remained
unbowed.

What are these?
These... are my hands
that I offer to you
in return
for saving
me.

.:Mortality:.

2006-04-20T12:55:00.000+08:00

My grandmother(Atok Mak, on my dad's side) passed away on Tuesday evening. I received the message that she was critically ill after I got back from Tanjung Bin on a company visit; about half an hour later, I got the message from my mom that she had passed away. Innalillahi wa innailaihiraji'un. To Allah we belong, and to Him we shall return.

I went to Mak Andak's house straight after, where her body was already being cleaned and prepared for burial. I kissed my grandmother one last time, remembering how she used to cook pots of rendang for us, while my late grandfather, Haji Ramli, would teach us kids how to properly cook ketupat in the backyard. I remember once when I was the only one who remained by his side to cook the ketupat, when the rest of the cousins trooped in to watch TV or something. He then taught me how to build a bonfire with a few matches and some kindling. I miss him so much, and now, I realise that I'll miss my grandma too. Time passes. Nothing ever stays the same. If I had it my way, I would've loved to spend the rest of my life stuck permanently in 1988, when I was an innocent wide-eyed kid, unexposed to the passions, the treachery, the complexity and the ultimate mortality of human life. My dad was then my hero (he still is, but from a different point of view), my Atok Bah my source of stories and adventure and Makwe was still strong enough to chase after us when we broke one of her flower pots while playing football.

Try as I might, though, I could never stop the irreversible onslaught of time.

I carried Atok Mak's body to the wash-basin, where she would receive the final cleansing before she is wrapped in the kain kapan or the funeral shroud. Where in life she was a formidable woman, having raised 14 children, in death she was as light as a feather. After the jenazah prayer, we took her to the cemetery, where I did what I could as her grandchild, helping the others pile earth into her grave. I left her after the talqin, under six feet of earth, with the prayers of her children and descendants to keep her company until the Day of Judgment.

Al Fatihah.

Every soul shall have a taste of death: And only on the Day of Judgment shall you be paid your full recompense. Only he who is saved far from the Fire and admitted to the Garden will have attained the object of Life: For the life of this world is but goods and chattels of deception. Ye shall certainly be tried and tested in your possessions and in your personal selves; and ye shall certainly Hear much that will grieve you, from those who received the Book before you and from those who worship many gods. But if ye persevere patiently, and guard against evil,-then that will be a determining factor in all affairs. (The Glorious Quran, Ali-Imran, 185-186)

.:Melaka:.

2006-04-08T20:36:00.000+08:00

It's always good to be back in my hometown. I think the place where we had our first memorable skinned-knee, the first crush, the first jeer from your male friends subsequent to finding out about that crush, the first (and last) time one fell into the school toilet (don't ask me how that particular one happened, okay? All I can say is, I was particularly skinny when I was a kid). It's nice. Brings back the memories, the construct of your current persona, the building blocks of your psyche, the ruminations of an undigested (and probably as yet unfulfilled) dream. They are what eggs us on, what keeps us awake at night, what makes us cry, what spurs us forward, what sets us back. A memory is a double-edged sword. For instance, you swear that you'll never get hurt the way you did before, that you'll learn from your mistakes, that you'll never put yourself in such a position. But then you remember how good it felt to be loved, how at one point in time, you were happy. Then you sort of forget that the sword cuts both ways, and wham! you're back in the groove.

Esoteric? perhaps. Meaningless babble? More than likely.

Laters.

.:Of Dublin II:.

2006-04-06T13:47:00.000+08:00

Back again. I've got fifteen minutes before lunchtime officially ends. So let me just continue with the slideshow of the Dublin trip.(I realise some of you may be bored to death already; feel free to jump out the window provided on your right: note, however, that you may feel some unavoidable discomfort upon landing) =P

Farah loves this picture. It's a bit too orangey for me, but it's still a nice picture nonetheless. From left, Shih Hi (betul ke my spelling ni??), Syikin, Farah, moi. Taken on the night of a thousand questions (as opposed to the infamous Night of the Thousand Knives, thank God), where I was quizzed and probed to no end by all and sundry. Questions ranged from "how did you get to know Farah?" to "What did you say you drove again? And this is your first job? And this is possible, how?" (to which I would respond by relating bits and pieces of THAT old story). Oh, and my all-time personal favourite: "Bila nak kawin?". Charming.

Later that night, when the party has died down a bit.

On the way back to Dublin from bray, we (or rather, I) decided that it was far too cold to be waiting for a bus. So we (or rather, I) paid for four tickets and boarded the DART (Dublin Automated Rail Transit - I think) bound for the City centre. So i guess you can safely say that i've lost all my ability to resist the cold. Or maybe I'm just too thin. Farah, you know what you need to do, dear...

... lend me your gloves! Note that by this time, all self-conjured macho delusions had evaporated. That tends to happen when one wears furry gloves. Especially when your girlfriend lends it to you.

Time's up! Will continue later dudes & dudettes!

.:Of Dublin:.

2006-04-03T13:15:00.000+08:00

I know I promised to tell you more about my CDG experience, but I think I'll dedicate the next entry to my dear Farah. She's been my inspiration for the past six months since I've known her. A wonderful woman indeed, she's the kind of person that could make even the dullest of days a cheery one with her smile and her laughter. I truly enjoyed my short stay in Dublin, getting to know the city, the people and in particular, Ms Farah herself. Here are some pics for your viewing pleasure:

That's me in front of Dublin Castle. Well, it's not much in terms of size (I've seen bigger manors in England), but it certainly beats the competition when it comes to history and culture. Did you know that the word Dublin is actually a bastardised version of the Gaelic word meaning "black water", which is the name of the river feeding the moat surrounding Dublin Castle? Well, now you know.

The interior of Dublin Castle. This is the Drawing Room.

One of the main corridors within the castle. Note the golden gilds surrounding the ceiling.

This is the main chandelier in the Throne Room. Interestingly, the bronze detail (unclear in the photo) contain references to all four British Isles members of the United Kingdom: the English rose, the Scottish thistle, the Irish shamrock and the Welsh ermm.. leek. Sheesh.

That's Farah on my left. I had just arrived in Dublin that day. She adores the colour pink, by the way. An incredibly useless fact to you readers, I know, but I just thought I'd share it anyway. =)

I arrived on St patrick's Day weekend, so there were plenty of street carnivals, shows and funfairs. After visiting Dublin Castle, we took a leisurely stroll to an area near Trinity College, where a funfair with rollercoaster rides and various other instruments of gravity-induced pleasure (or pain in my case)was being held. You should've seen her eyes gleam with excitement (and I suspect, a certain amount of naughtiness). I somehow found myself dragged onto a ride five minutes later; the next thirty seconds of stomach-churning circular motion were quite uncomfortable for yours truly, I assure you.

On our way to Bray; from far left: Anep (I stayed with him for a couple of days. Thanks for letting me bunk at your place dude!), Eileen, Ja, myself. We were looking forward to a nice picnic by the beach, but the weather, being British in nature, wasn't exactly being cooperative. In fact, I nearly froze my boll**ks off. It was the coldest picnic I've ever had, but the food was excellent, the company was superb.. I couldn't have had any complaints, really.

Farah on the way to Bray. Words fail me. *sigh*

At the seaside town of Bray. The town seemed rather surreal. They were taking down the rides (St Pat's Day weekend was already over) and people were shutting themselves indoors as it was waay too cold to be venturing out. So there we were, a couple of Malaysians, walking on the promenade, with nothing but a few mad joggers and their equally crazed dogs for company. It seemed rather sad, like an old town falling sleepily into decay. Having said that, the constant litany of jokes and laughter by my companions cheered me up immensely whenever such morose thoughts began dominating my mind.

"Honey, why are you keeping your hands in your pockets? Are your hands cold?"
"No dear, I'm just using my hands to keep my nuts warm.."
"Oh..."

Oopss.. my lunch hour's over. Need to get back to work. I'll continue later, people. Take care!

Latest reads: "Do Not Pass Go" by Tim Moore.
Latest tunes: Vivaldi, The Four Seasons.

.:So it begins... again:.

2006-03-28T16:33:00.000+08:00

Well, I'm back, folks. From my Dublin trip, in case you missed the last entry. Which I hope you didn't. I think.

Ahh... I guess your life would be so much the merrier without my stammering banter eh? The stutteringly apologetic nature of my intellectually numb mutterings must simply be torture to your oh so delicate temperament. Forgive me, dear readers, I simply must go on, in this stymied fashion of mine, if simply to cure this urge to shout at the top of my lungs from the top of Petronas Twin Towers to the rest of the world: "Oi! Aku ni still alive lah!!"

Not that anyone will hear it, not all the way from the top of the tower's spire. I'm more likely to be zapped by lightning on a clear & sunny day there than be heard by the minions thronging below.

Sorry folks... I don't know what got into me today. I didn't sleep much last night. In fact, I don't really know how long I slept. All I know is that I was tossing and turning from about 10 pm till 1 am, got up to take a leak and swallow a sackful of sedatives enough to knock out a really big orangutan, tossed and turned again despite being smaller than said orangutan, decided at 3 am to try the ultimate sedative (reading my CFA study pack lying down on the bed... the Ethics portion, no less), called it quits within ten minutes after the apparently redundant Ethics bit pissed me off to no end, called Farah and chatted for a bit, tossed and turned again till about 4.30, I think, and then it all went blank till about 5.30 am when the alarm buzzed and pulled me, kicking and screaming, from that blissful land called Dreamland.

I wonder how my English teachers would have reacted to that extremely long sentence filled with what seemed to be an endless procession of commas. To Mr Wong, Ms Chan and Mr Fellender, I sincerely apologise for causing you much grief. And to Mr Woods, well, I'm sorry, but causing you grief is just too much fun.

Anyway, forget the ramblings, and let us return to the story at hand, old chap.

My trip to Dublin started off nicely. Took a train to KLIA and arrived in good time to meet up with my parents who had insisted on seeing me off. I was wondering why they wanted to see me off. Little did I realise that in my mother's eyes, I'm still the awkward 13 year old who still needed help packing his bags, instead of the less awkward 25 year old (who still needed help packing his bags now and again); to my horror, she began unzipping my bag, revealing in its full glory my polka dot boxers (to my credit, they were manly dots - "shooting target circles, dude! They can't get any more macho!" said the snivelling salesman) to the gasping (and no doubt horrified - "Mothers, shield your daughters!!") public. She then proceeded to rearrange all the stuff, revealing my facial toner, my heel buff, my hair dryer and the red stiletto I put on during the weekends when I feel in the mood. All traces of the male macho character that I have struggled to portray all this while had vanished by then.

Admittedly, though, her rearrangements were much better than my original "toss-in-all-you-can-grab-with-two-hands-and-then-some" approach. It even made finding that stiletto rather easy. Thanks, Mama! You know I love you!*

More to follow... including my adventures in entering Charles De Gaulle (oh please... Airport, you pervert), and my brilliant encounter/mental debate with an Irish racist. Oh, and pictures. Lots of pictures for you salivating mob.

*For the benefit of those who may not appreciate my perverse (not to mention pervert-ed) sense of humour, I would like to stress that I don't wear stilettos. Not red ones at least.**
**See above, minus the last sentence.

.:Updates:.

2006-03-02T08:48:00.000+08:00

Well.. the results season is over. I’m supposed to be working on my PBB Oil model, but to be honest I can’t really be bothered to do it. It’s almost done, anyway, apart from linking up the ACE sheet and getting my forecast assumptions fine-tuned, which would mean I need to call up the company, but then again they won’t be in till Monday, so I…

Ooopss. Sorry… got a bit carried away there. Work’s been occupying my mind, as you can very well see. I’m tired. So tired. I’m so glad my week-long vacation’s coming up. I’ll be off to Dublin, people. So if anyone wants anything, you’d better hurry up and give me a call, before I change my mind (or change my phone number).

Yes I will be changing phone numbers; well, at least for the fixed line. Not because I’m being stalked or anything. It’s just that I’ll be moving out soon. I’ve got a new place off Jalan Kuching, in Sri Putramas. The place is good enough for me considering it’s a rental. It’s much more secure too compared to my old place.

Things have been on the up for me. Getting more involved in my work. Learning more and more each and every day. Never thought I’d be so happy so soon after the SWSNBN (or “she-who-shall-not-be-named” for those who need a refresher) fiasco. One thing that still bugs me though. I feel as if the whole entire 4 years was a complete blank. I have no good memory of the time. Admittedly, there were times when I was happy, when I was ecstatic even. But it’s all for naught, and now, although I don’t feel sad anymore, the cut went in too deep to fully heal just like that.

Alright. I’ll admit it. I’m scared. Scared of what the future holds. Scared that I’m not good enough for the job I’m holding now. Scared that I’ll never make it as an analyst. Scared that the person I love now won’t be the same anymore after a year or two (or three or four). Scared that I’ll have to face the same s**t all over again. Heck, it’s a wonder I can even get up in the mornings.

But as usual I’ll just get up and face these fears. I’ll look them in the eyes and stare them down, as I have stared down other challenges before. I may fail, and I may fall, but I will never fail to get up. My heart has been mangled, stabbed, shot, sliced, diced, shattered and mulched, but my spirit has never been broken. Insya-Allah.

As Farah would put it… “Chaiyok sayang!!” =)

Ps: This is probably just a result of male-form PMS, as Nads so eloquently put it over cvoffee yesterday

.:A trip down memory lane:.

2006-02-07T19:14:00.000+08:00

Bumped into someone I haven’t met for a long time today. Fariz. A nice guy. A very nice guy. We used to play footie together when I was in LSE. We played our hearts out during the Nottingham games, but never did manage to get past the first round… I still remember his words, “Kita tak pernah lepas ni sebab kita semua tak tau membezakan antara shoot dan pass”. Wise words indeed. =)

Seriously though, seeing him brought back plenty of memories. To be honest, I haven’t given the matter much thought lately, but the knowledge that he was working in CSFB brought me shuddering back to reality. Suddenly I remembered the pain, suddenly I remembered how it hurt so bad… so bad. The days when I stood at a knife’s edge, between sanity and eternal damnation, as I stared down the dark abyss that stood beneath my 15th floor balcony.

But, with the pain came salvation. When all light had seemingly dimmed, when all hope had seemingly failed, in steps your true friends. The ones that had been happy for you when you were happy, and the ones that backed you up when you were down. I remember Yazmin and Azie driving down to Melaka to try and help me out. I remember Azie inviting me to her grandma’s birthday, just so I wouldn’t get so lonely on a weekend. I remember Nadia and Apai telling me that my-ex was just a teenager in an adult body and not worth my time. I remember Joe Azril insisting on going for dinner with me sometimes… even though I hadn’t seen him for ages. I remember Gosh calling me up for breakfast regularly, and watching EPL on the big flat-screen TV in the TNB control room. I remember Muiz and Aizat and Butet and me playing 2-on-2 football, something I’ve never done before, and later chatting the night away at a mamak stall in Sri Petaling.

I remember these things, and I feel like shedding a tear. Not out of sadness for what has happened, although indubitably it was really sad. No. The tears that I shed will be out of love for my friends, out of happiness for having these people in my life. I may not say it very often, guys, but I love you. I really do.

Thank you.

.:Ermm... whuzzat??:.

2006-02-03T09:19:00.000+08:00

According to The Star today...

Amber Chia, famed Malaysian model, talking about her role in the upcoming moviePossessed: "I will be playing a model possessed by another model who had committed suicide."

Hmm... even in the afterlife she can't play anyone but herself.

Oh, be nice, Ahmad!

.:Back at work:.

2006-02-03T08:16:00.000+08:00

Dear readers,

Alop!! How are you? Hope you guys enjoyed your long break from work. I just love Malaysia..It's the only country in the world where you can get multiple holidays all crowded together, like sardines in a.. errmm.. sardine can.

damn it.. I need to work on my metaphors if I'm ever gonna make it as a yuppie writer-wannabe.

I'm back at my desk, people. For the first time in a long while, I'm actually happy to start the day. I realised this morning that I'm actually in a good place. Okay, apart from the fact that my apartment block is none-too-safe (what with the burglaries and muggings recently and the weirdly-affectionate guy on the seventh floor - who I've not bumped into for a long time, thankfully), other things are going great. Personal life's sorted out (I'm madly in love again. yes, Nadia.. Yes, Min... I know, I know. I can't help it. When I love, I really do love. It's never a lukewarm thing when it comes to me... maybe it's just due to the Italian blood flowing through my veins - uwekk!!). Job's going great (though a payrise would be most welcome.. ehem..). I'm pretty healthy, I think, although the tummy could use a little less flab and a little more hard-bound muscle.. sigh... the burdens of a sedentary lifestyle.

Oh. I know something which could be worked on, actually. I miss my friends. I miss Gosh, Mizan, Dol, Nad, Apai, Min, Azie, Novan, Joe Azril, Apai (2), Muiz, Meon, Mouse, Aizat etc etc.. Haven't seen them for some time. Some of them I'll be seeing tonight for futsal, but the rest (especially the "Econs class" gang.. plus Azie and Novan), I'll probably have to work something out. Yeah, they've got families now. It just won't do to bother them with my bachelorly antics. Sigh... The burdens of being an emotionally-aware man.

By the way, my car (a.k.a. MBE7515 a.k.a. The Rebound a.k.a. Da Chick Magnet - according to joe) is permanently stabled in melaka now, till I find a better place to live in. Am now a little impaired in the mojo department (not that I need it, lah!)

It's great to be alive. =) Alhamdulillah.

See ya!

Regards,

Ahmad "I ain't got no blender!" Abdul-Halim

.:O the pain, the pain!:.

2006-01-14T22:57:00.000+08:00

Note: This is an entry which has a lot to do with urine. If your disposition is of the rather more fragile nature, please feel free to navigate to another site, like google.com. Otherwise, just bear with me, and I'll try not to gross you out. No guarantees though.

Oh and the toilet's the first door on the left, should you feel the need to hurl.

Dear readers,

been a while huh? Sorry for the gap in posts. Been busy, the world moved around too fast etc etc and all the usual excuses. The fact of the matter is that I really didn't feel like blogging, maybe partly because I've found myself a great friend, who's a great sounding wall as well. You know who you are, dear.

Anyway, for the sake of those who keep track of me through this blog, I shall now attempt to summarize what's been happening over the past couple of weeks. Post-holiday blues crept up on me as soon as I resumed my desk duties soon after the holidays. Bumped into HER a couple of times on a single day, but I unsurprisingly felt that I wasn't missing much. Which was always a good sign. =P

Woke up the day before Raya Qurban intending to fast, as the sunnah indicated. I then somehow did not manage to eat anything nor have a single drop to drink for sahur. By lunchtime, I was feeling the familiar pangs of my renal colic disorder working its way towards ruining my day. Decided to leave by 5 pm and make my way home. By 7, I was in extreme pain. I decided then that I wasn't willing to spend the night in pain, but the problem was that my parents were not going to be able to come to KL to treat the damned thing, the next day being Raya and all. So what did I decide to do? I optimistically (or egotistically, being the macho man that I perceive myself to be, often only in times when I know I am SOO not that type) told myself that I could drive back to Melaka on my own after swallowing a couple of painkillers. Big mistake.

By the time I reached Serdang, I had to stop at each and every R&R just to lie back and groan in pain. Yes, it must not have been a very pretty sight, judging from the women hurrying away whenever they passed by my car and happened to glance inside at what seemed to be a man writhing and moaning. And grabbing his crotch. For good reasons of course. Honest!

All jokes aside, though, I was in so much pain I was afraid I was going to faint from the exhaustion. And let me assure you, fainting whilst driving is almost assuredly fatal. It was the scariest, not to mention most painful, period of my life.

Want to know how painful it was? Imagine, if you will, having a full bladder but being unable to pass urine. For hours. Add to that the pain similar but greater in magnitude to that you frequently experience when you run too fast too quickly, without a proper warm-up. You know, the throbbing pain you get on the sides of your abdomen. Yeah, THAT one. Once you've got an idea of what I'm talking about, you'll understand what I went through for three darned hours. (Yes it took me that long to drive back to Malacca, toll-to-toll).

I was glad, though, for I had the support of all the people I loved. My parents called me every half-hour, just to make sure I was okay. They waited at the Alor Gajah toll and gave me some jab on on the behind which knocked me out for the rest of the night. Farah called and messaged every so often... she was so worried at one point I thought she was about to cry.

Well, to cut a long story short, I'm now safe and sound. Went for a conference in S'pore from Wed to Friday, and am now in Malacca typing this. Oh, and my car's been fixed. It's almost as good as new now, but I ain't complaining. =)

Take care!

Regards,

Ahmad

.:Christmas weekend:.

2005-12-27T17:15:00.000+08:00

Dear readers,

what a weekend! Is it just me, or is my life just chock-full of dramatic moments? To start off, I got into an accident on Saturday morning. I was stopping at a traffic light not two minutes from my kampung, when this speeding Proton failed to stop and whcaked into the rear end of my 5-month-old car. The result of that particular match-up:

Unfortunately, the driver of the Proton ended up in hospital, probably with fractured ribs. Let's hope he gets better (and that he has insurance - else I might have to sue him).

Am driving my old battered Wira again until they get the BMer's bumper replaced. Well, I guess takde rezeki lah kan? =) Farah was so worried when she heard the news; she couldn't get through to me, which I guess made it worse for her. Sorry, dear.

Gosh got married over the weekend. Congratulations, dude! I'm so happy for you. You deserve all the happiness in the world for being such a great friend, and I wish you two all the very best for your upcoming journey together. Pity i didn't take any photos of you two; I was too engrossed with Laila & Kamal's baby, Sakinah.. She's so adorable!

Well, I guess that's it. Life's great, innit? =)

Regards,

Ahmad

.:I have time to do these things.. Wow!:.

2005-12-23T08:55:00.000+08:00

Dear readers,

It's so weird to be the only one in the office (apart from the nice cleaner lady who by the way treats me like a son). I guess it gives me time to reflect on what has been a turbulent year for me.

I never knew I'd be sitting here typing this back in January. Back in January, I still had my life all planned out. I was going to get married to the woman I've loved since 2001, the person I had been betrothed to since 2002, the person I had trusted the most, my best friend, my life. I was doing my courseworks, my thesis, studying hard, trying to make the grade, trying to build a life so I could make her & and the family I'll have happy and secure.

In February, I discovered that what you thought was a white lie, one you made simply to protect the feelings of your loved ones, may end up hurting them the most.

March seemed to fly by quickly, at least after I've managed (or so I thought) to apologise for my mistake. It was in this month I think, that I found out that she had to have surgery to remove an ovarian cyst. was so worried but she told me it was just a minor op. With the benefit of hindsight (such a useless tool in my opinion), I should've rushed back to Malaysia to be with her (and maybe I should've brought along a hockey stick or some other blunt and potentially-death-dealing instrument), but I believed her words, then. How foolish of me.

In April, i was struggling to study and to complete my by-now-approaching-mythical-proportions thesis. i was shooting back and forth from my study desk to the National Archives to the British Library for those rare books and manuscripts.

In May, i sat for my exams. Felt sick and tired of US Constitutional Law but persevered anyway. Su-Yin called to see whether I wanted an interview for my current job. I went through the whole shebang and managed to secure the job, obviously.

In June, I discovered that she actually had one of her ovaries removed. i freaked out, obviously. Felt guilty about not being there. Rushed home as soon as I could. I thought I was coming home to my best friend, but in truth I felt as if i was not needed in her life, as if Iw as no longer important. Many fights ensued, mainly because I could not understand what was going on.

In July, my world fell apart. Enough said.

In August, I came back to work. Put my head down and worked my ass off. Kept telling myself that I will never break. Not for anyone.

In September, I met Farah. Well, I didn't exactly meet her. One should never doubt the effectiveness of the Internet as a means of connecting two people who have never heard of each other before, eh Nads? Experienced the best Ramadhan I've ever had. Alhamdulillah.

Throughout October - November, I was happy, because I've found someone who I think would be perfect for me, with the perfect mix of sass, humility, positivity and faith. But I was afraid that I might not be good enough for her.

In December, I found out I was wrong. =) Thanks, dear.

That's my yearly review over and done with. On the news front, I've developed renal colic (a precursor to kidney stones for those of you without medical inclinations - probably about 90% of you readers), so am on continuous medication currently... always have to remind myself to drink loads of water. Also, I've managed to win a prize for my third year LLB. Alhamdulillah.... apparently my name was read out at the graduation ceremony. Pity I wasn't there to receive the honour. Oh well..

It's been a great year. Looking forward to the next one, though let's hope it's less traumatic than the middle portion of 2005! =)

PS: I have an inkling that it might actually be so so so so much better... here's hoping!

Regards,

Ahmad

.:A time for repentance:.

2005-12-23T06:48:00.000+08:00

Tomorrow is but a dream,
Will the sun rise again?
For everything is finite,
and everything will end.

This beautiful world around us
enthralls our heart and soul,
yet it will all be destroyed,
as surely as the young grow old.
Exquisite indeed is His work,
though He deems it to be temporary
For everything must fade,
in the Glory of Allah,
The Lord of Majesty and Bounty.

Ya Allah,
Will I live to see the next day?
Will I live to see another Ramadhan?
Have I repented for my sins?
Have I done enough
to earn Your forgiveness
to earn Your love?

O Lord,
Accept my longing for You,
and let me love You,
even if only as a fraction
of how You love me too.

.:True love:.

2005-12-05T15:01:00.000+08:00

Truly this heart loves You
Truly this person yearns for You

Why then
is my love still astray,
why then,
does my longing go unrequited?

Thus so,
even if I were to present to you
the jewels of the seven seas,
thus so,
even if I were to nurture this feeling
with Your gracious bounty of the seven skies
yet my love will never come
yet my longings will remain unanswered
for as long as I do not hope
and beseech Thee for Your Mercy
For as long as I do not shed these tears
and beg for Your sympathy.

Ya Allah, please grant me Your love,
and accept my yearning heart
so that I may know
my gratitude is only
to You.

"Impractically yours, you know?"

2005-11-21T10:53:00.000+08:00

Impractically yours,
for there is no happiness
no lingering smile
without your voice
I awake to a brighter day
a gladdened heart,
a lighter soul,
were you to sigh
contented
as we talked through the night
till the morning light.

Impractically yours,
for thoughts of you dominate my mind,
intransigently persisting
never remitting
holding dominion
over all and sundry
as complete as the rule of Rome
as overwhelming as Napoleon's battlecry
"Viva la revolucion!"
and all that jazz..

Impractically yours,
for the world separates us
with oceans and continents,
but I feel you near me,
when you infectiously giggle
at every little thing I say.

What I really meant to say
is that
I M practically yours, damn it.

.:to clarify:.

2005-11-17T11:04:00.000+08:00

Okay, so far two guys have called me up asking whether I had proposed to someone. Hmm...

Perhaps with hindsight the previous entry may have been a bit too short. I was just too happy for words then. In any case, all I did was to ask her whether she may be in love with me, because I certainly am. And she said yes.

That’s all folks. Nothing to see here. Move along now. =)

.:Yay!:.

2005-11-16T18:05:00.000+08:00

She said yes! =)

.:Darn it:.

2005-11-15T11:02:00.000+08:00

Dear Ms RB,

it’s been almost two months now since I’ve gotten to know you. What am I supposed to say? You take my breath away. With your oh-so-charming mix of child-like innocence with maturity belying your tender years, you’ve managed to reduce me to a stuttering fool each and every time we talk on the phone.

Yet when we don’t talk (like today), I realize that I do miss you terribly. I miss hearing you say “assalamualaikum” in that special way that no one else seems able to replicate. I miss the way you always seem to find something good in everything that happens to you and me, the way that that contrasts so explicitly with my sometimes overarching negativity. I miss the way you tend to get embarrassed when it comes to acknowledging these feelings that I know we both have for each other. I miss the way you always seem to know how I feel, which is surprising really since even I don’t know myself that well. I miss… well… you.

.....

Damn it, woman. I think I’m in love with you.

ps: as a favour to someone who I used to love, I have deleted the previous entries which revolved around her. There will be no more references to what has happened. I think she has paid, and is continuing to pay, her dues for it. Cukuplah.

.:Ain't life grand?:.

2005-10-09T18:05:00.000+08:00

Dear readers,

How's your day been so far? I don't think it'd be too presumptuous of me to say that most of you would probably agree with me when I say that life is grand, but only most of the time it. Unfortunately the past two days were probably the exception to the rule.

The past weekend was in truth rather harrowing for some of my friends and family. Min's having some problems of her own, and the annoying thing is I can't do much to help her out. She's always been a good friend, and it pains me not to be able to anything other than tell her that I'm always here should she need someone to talk to. On top of that, Uncle Rashid has contracted dengue; when my dad found out, me and him sped off to Shah Alam to donate blood and to be with him.. he looked scared.. kesian. I really felt sorry for him.. he's fallen into some hard times, and again, I feel like kicking myself for not being able to do anything, especially since they rejected my attempts to donate blood (claiming that my veins were not visible enough etc etc.. yadda yadda..). The sight of Narissa crying is something I don't ever want to witness again.

*You can't save the world, Ahmad. You can't. There's just not that much of you to go around to begin with..*

Yeah, tell that to this too-big-for-its-own-good heart of mine, why dontcha?

Oh.. and it worries me that I am starting to have an imaginary sidekick teling me stuff. I need to go out more. :P

Before I go, lemme just put in a special tribute to my mom. She's so worried that her bachelor son won't be able to eat a proper sahur that she prepared some frozen meals for me to bring back to KL.. not only that.. she even prepared the set menu for moi!!!! Allah... truly a mother's love is endless. As my Indonesian maid at home puts it, "sayangnya emak sampai ke mana-mana, sayangnya anak sampai ke tangga saja". She's a smart woman indeed.

Anyway, for you Muslim readers, selamat berbuka puasa!!

BAJOH: Stable at RM23.

Regards,

Ahmad

.:Trying to do the hardest thing:.

2005-10-02T15:07:00.000+08:00

..that is, to get to know (and possibly learn to like) myself. Hence the personality tests.

Big Five Test Results

Extroversion (36%) moderately low which suggests you are reclusive, quiet, unassertive, and private.
Accommodation (60%) moderately high which suggests you are, at times, overly kind natured, trusting, and helpful at the expense of your own individual development (martyr complex).
Orderliness (68%) moderately high which suggests you are, at times, overly organized, neat, structured and restrained at the expense too often of flexibility, variety, spontaneity, and fun.
Emotional Stability (36%) moderately low which suggests you are worrying, insecure, emotional, and anxious.
Inquisitiveness (56%) moderately high which suggests you are intellectual, curious, imaginative but possibly not very practical.

from similarminds.com

Kind of rings a bell or two huh?

.:Politics:.

2005-10-02T09:37:00.000+08:00

Apparently I'm a borderline social democrat..

You are a
Social Moderate
(55% permissive)

and an...
Economic Liberal
(18% permissive)

You are best described as a:

Democrat

Link: The Politics Test on OkCupid Free Online Dating
Also: The OkCupid Dating Persona Test

.:Idleness:.

2005-09-30T21:21:00.000+08:00

As I’m sitting here in front of the same computer screen I’ve been staring at since 6.45 am this morning (exactly 14.5 hours ago), I can’t help but feel down. I feel like whinging, but I know my life is, apart from the relationship side, actually in a relatively good place. Having said that, I’ve always been a person who puts a lot of emphasis on my personal relationship side so I guess there’s a hollowness there that continuously bugs me whenever I’m idle. Like I am now.

Oh well… like they say, idle research assistants beget the devil.. or something like that.. I’m kinda befuddled to be honest. Am simply too effin’ tired.

A man walks up to a bar and says:
"This ain’t a joke."

Ha
Ha
Ha
Ha

Are you laughing or are you f
a
l
l
i
n
g

down?

I’m going nuts.. OOO NUTS!!

.:The horror:.

2005-09-29T10:57:00.000+08:00

As I stepped out of the lift, my thoughts deeply mired in the report due on Friday, I began to walk slowly towards my flat. It’s been a tiring day, and I was looking forward to a little exercise, a nice hot shower, some dinner, and finally some sleep.

Suddenly I saw a fleeting shadow move from the corner of my eyes. I didn’t know what to make of it. Was it just a stray cat? It couldn’t be. It was much too big to be a cat… it was more man-sized, but it had a rather feminine shape to it. I prayed to God that it wasn’t what I thought it was. I quickly reached for my keys and tried to open the door quickly. I heard the door behind me open. I was ready to scream my lungs out…

“Oi Ani! Boyfriend kau dah balik!!”

Sheesh.. it was only the girls from the unit opposite mine.

“Bang, boleh pinjam paper last weekend tak? Kitorang tak baca lagi…” said the girl who I can only presume to be Ani.

Best pick-up line ever, man…

.:Be happy!:.

2005-09-26T14:41:00.000+08:00

"(Allah) Most Gracious!
It is He Who has taught the Qur'an
He has created man:
He has taught him speech (and intelligence)
The sun and the moon follow courses (exactly) computed
And the herbs and the trees - both (alike) prostrate in adoration.
And the Firmament has He raised high, and He has set up the Balance (of Justice),
In order that ye may not transgress (due) balance.
So establish weight with justice and fall not short in the balance.
It is He Who has spread out the earth for (His) creatures:
Wherein are fruit and sheathed palm-trees,
Also corn, with (its) leaves and stalk for fodder, and sweet-smelling plants
Then which of the favours of your Lord will ye deny?"
- Ar Rahman (1-13)

.:The Depressed Men's Guide to Kuala Lumpur:. Part I.I

2005-09-05T18:29:00.000+08:00

The following is a work of fiction, very loosely based on my own experiences. Okay, not VERY loosely. But still loosely.

As I put down the phone, my life flashed before my eyes. To be honest, it wasn’t a very long show, but man, it certainly jerked a tear or two (Okay, I gushed. But in a manly way. Really). Images of the times we spent together, the times when we used to rent DVDs and watch them over in her house back in London, the times we spent walking in Hyde Park, holding hands like all young couples do.

I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe. When she told me that it was over, that she was leaving me for a former friend, I couldn’t believe it. Not again. Not after all that I’ve been through, the promises that I made to myself, to never again be hurt this way. Not after all the shit I had to put up with, her being the insecure person that she was. She’s changed, that’s for sure. She’s no longer the person she was before. Boy, did she make that clear.

I was stunned. What was I to do? For days I spent my miserable waking hours drowning in tubs of Phish Food (okay, not tubs, but vats). The local grocery store must think I’m some manna from heaven, bringing them luck and good fortune as I drifted my way into the store with a serene smile that comes from consuming about three gallons of ice-cream in two hours, my hands holding two pieces of ten-ringgit notes as I grabbed the nearest (or the two nearest) half gallon bucket (or two) of Phish Food.

As I sat in front of the TV, my t-shirt stained pink from the drippings, I gave a loud belch. Big mistake. Streams of semi-digested ice-cream, which had previously been, well, digesting peacefully in the flabby depths of my stomach, suddenly decided to make a rush for the exits. Unfortunately for me, they all went the wrong way. “Duhh.. let’s all rush out together! Which door should we go for, huh? Duhh.. I can’t read, but I’m pretty sure ‘M-O-U-T-H” spells Exit!!”

Darned semi-digested (yet imaginary) ice-cream rednecks.

To cut a long story short (was it that long a story to begin with?), my face ended up in a bowl which, truth be told, was never actually designed for the human face (it was actually designed for another, less fascinating aspect of the human anatomy. Okay. Correction. For most people, that side of the human anatomy is not fascinating; there are some men, however, who find it terribly interesting. These men usually provoke a very strong reaction from other men, usually manifesting itself in lightning quick sprints in the opposite direction, away from the former).

My gut hurt. My heart hurt. Heck, my head hurts, primarily due to the restrictive nature of the (ahem) ‘bowl’. It was then that I decided that I had to move on. I had to pick up the pieces of this so-called life of mine and try to make it on my own. I had no other choice, really. What else was I going to do? Go on eating tub after tub of ice-cream, growing old and fat, losing my job because I was so fat that I couldn’t get out of the house, becoming a shut-in living on cans of pre-packed pasta? Heck, no! I’m a man! I’ll find another girl! Me no scared! Me Grog! Me have big stick! Muahahaha!

My primeval spirits were roused. I was ready to take on the world. But first…

I have to figure out how to get my head out of the toilet bowl. Hmmm…

.:Al-Inshirah (Solace):.

2005-08-29T18:10:00.000+08:00

In the name of Allah, the Most Beneficient, Most Merciful:

"Have we not expanded for thee thy breast?
And removed from thee thy burden,
which did gall thy back?
And raised high the esteem in which thou is held?
So verily, with every difficulty there is relief,
Verily, with every difficulty there is relief,
Therefore, when thou art free (from thy troubles) still labour hard
And to thy Lord turn all thy attention.."

Note to self: It hurts. Yes it does. But you're still breathing aren't you? One day, you'll be okay. One day, you'll be happier than you ever were with her. Till that day comes, though, just keep breathing. A day at a time. A breath at a time.

BAJOH count: RM5.. Great!!

.:solace:.

2005-08-19T14:58:00.000+08:00

"All who obey Allah and the messenger are in the company of those on whom is the Grace of Allah,- of the prophets (who teach), the sincere (lovers of Truth), the witnesses (who testify), and the Righteous (who do good): Ah! what a beautiful fellowship!"

"Allah! There is no god but He: of a surety He will gather you together against the Day of Judgment, about which there is no doubt. And whose word can be truer than Allah's?"

"O ye who believe! stand out firmly for justice, as witnesses to Allah, even as against yourselves, or your parents, or your kin, and whether it be (against) rich or poor: for Allah can best protect both. Follow not the lusts (of your hearts), lest ye swerve, and if ye distort (justice) or decline to do justice, verily Allah is well-acquainted with all that ye do."

"Those who believe, then reject faith, then believe (again) and (again) reject faith, and go on increasing in unbelief,- Allah will not forgive them nor guide them on the way

To the Hypocrites give the glad tidings that there is for them (but) a grievous penalty;-

Yea, to those who take for friends unbelievers rather than believers: is it honour they seek among them? Nay,- all honour is with Allah."

Translation of the Quran by Abdullah Yusuf Ali, An-Nisa, 69, 87, 135, 137-139

Coping with loss

2005-08-15T13:47:00.000+08:00

In the name of Allah, Most Beneficent, Most Merciful:

"O ye who believe! seek help with patient perseverance and prayer; for Allah is with those who patiently persevere.
And say not of those who are slain in the way of Allah: "They are dead." Nay, they are living, though ye perceive (it) not.
Be sure we shall test you with something of fear and hunger, some loss in goods or lives or the fruits (of your toil), but give glad tidings to those who patiently persevere,
Who say, when afflicted with calamity: "To Allah We belong, and to Him is our return":-
They are those on whom (Descend) blessings from Allah, and Mercy, and they are the ones that receive guidance."
(Translation of Al-Quran by Abdullah Yusuf Ali, Al-Baqarah 153-157)

"By the Fig and the Olive,
And the Mount of Sinai,
And this City of security,-

We have indeed created man in the best of moulds,
Then do We abase him (to be) the lowest of the low,-

Except such as believe and do righteous deeds: For they shall have a reward unfailing.
Then what can, after this, contradict thee, as to the judgment (to come)?

Is not Allah the wisest of judges?"

(Translation of Al-Quran by Abdullah Yusuf Ali, At-Tin 1-8)

THE REBOUND OF THE CENTURY

2005-08-03T18:04:00.000+08:00

I love my car

Ramblings

2005-07-04T18:27:00.001+08:00

It’s not going to go away.

She knows it. However much she wills it, the cat just will not go away. It will not slink off like all the others when she ignored them for a bit. This one is a special one; she can see it in its eyes. She could have stayed on staring at it for hours, in this dreamy, mystical state between dusk and the coming of the night, when the stars lazily come into view like little children waking up in the morning, their eyes, at first lacking that sparkle, eventually come ablaze with curiosity and mischief. She could have, but she will not. Instead, she will turn around and go inside to help Ibu out with the chores.

She wished Ibu would let her keep a cat. But Ibu does not believe in keeping pets. “Times are hard enough, Ros. We’re not rich people, and your father, that useless man, won’t send home anything. I wonder what he’s up to nowadays. Sometimes I wish he wasn’t my husband, but what can we do?”

Ros pouted. Abah. An unfamiliar name pasted to an unfamiliar face. Abah, a father only in name, walked out of the family when Ros was young, so young she could barely remember his face. The only vivid recollection of him that she has is the somewhat shy smile he often had on his face. Despite what Ibu says of him, Ros knew that Ibu still loved him. That was the only reason why Ibu had never went to see the village imam to get the marriage annulled. Ibu still believed that one day he will walk up the front staircase and knock on the door again. Faint those hopes may be, but they were the only things keeping this house together; if only for that reason, Abah deserves to be loved. But that does not mean that he should be used as an excuse for not allowing her the slightest bit of luxury, like keepi....

"Ahmad... you know you shouldn't blog at work"

"ermm... it's not a blog entry Mrs S. It's my debut novel!"

"Fair enough. But I think you still shouldn't be writing a novel when you're in truth a research assistant, should you?"

"Ermm.. yeah"

Am I needy?

2005-06-29T18:19:00.000+08:00

Shut up Nadia.

I am needy. I need to feel that I make a difference to someone. Note the keyword there. Someone. I need a pat on the back from everyone who knows me about as much as I need a thick woollen sweater on a blisteringly hot KL afternoon. What I need is someone to fall back on, the rock that keeps me sane when things go belly-up.

I think its quite firmly established that I am rather needy. However, is it such a bad thing? Is it such a bad thing to want to be appreciated? Or is it just because I am a guy, I'm supposed to be strong one, and provide the wall for you when you need it? What happens when the wall itself is feeling weak? Should you then just hold up your hands and say, "whoa! I ain't gonna hold you up, dude!"?

Why am I this way? I don't know. Maybe deep down, I'm not too happy with who I am. Deep down, I'm ungrateful, I think. True, my life never turned out the way I wanted it to, but it's great where I am now. Okay, there are certain difficulties, certain thorny bushes here and there that I've somehow managed to fall into, but I'll deal with them, like I've always done.

Or maybe I'm just feeling insecure because I've not received my paycheque. Bah!

It's FFFFFFRIDAY!!!

2005-06-24T10:09:00.000+08:00

It's sad. I know. I now know what it means when people say TGIF. I believe.

Started off well enough. Got to work pretty early thanks to a combination of good luck (green lights all the way in Jln Sultan Ismail! Woohoo!!) and radical driving skillz (really). I then managed to muck it all up by a fiasco with the supervising analyst (SA) and Miss P over the morning daily (don't ask. It's... complicated.)Ahh... the joys of being an RA who knows absolutely bollocks about this industry.

Will be seeing Gosh tonight after his recent adventures of the engaging kind in Terengganu. Would be cool to see him in a different light. Hope I'll be able to pop by Nim's place before I head off to Melaka to do the family thang.

I work with a model

2005-06-21T19:13:00.000+08:00

A financial model that is. One that hasn't been updated since 1999. And has macros all over the place. And was not actually created by the analyst that is currently using it.

All this means that when the shit hits the fan and you can't figure out the problem (it's probably because of the macros), you'll probably have to start from scratch if God forbid you had forgotten to save the file before you f**ked up. Sigh. And here I am, the serial f**ker-upper.

Please pardon my French. I'm tired and cranky. And it doesn't really help that it's still only Tuesday and I can't see the weekend through the mist of numbers on my 14' screen.

Typical working day

2005-06-16T20:52:00.000+08:00

6.00 am - alarm goes off

6.01 am - hit 'off' button

6.10 am - second alarm goes off

6.11 am - hit 'off' button

6.35 am - finally wake up, realise that you're so damned late that you probably don't even have time to put on any underwear, and THEN discover that you don't have any clean boxers because you haven't done the laundry because the damned washing machine decided it was high time to make that trip to machine heaven.

6.45 am - out of the house, commando-style.

7.00 am - reach office. Discover you left your swipe card at home in your haste. A bout of unmitigated swearing ensues.

7.15 am - Finally get in the office. Traders start yelling at you because the news was supposed to be out by 7.15. Well.. that wouldn't be so bad if you actually had something prepared. But nooooo... you HAD to leave it to the last minute.

7.40 am - news gets out. Finally

.
.
.
.
....

......

Oh fuck it. It's 9 pm and I'm still in the office. This thing would take too damn long to finish. I'm going home.

I'm so sleepy

2005-06-13T12:50:00.000+08:00

Been this way for the past couple of days. The weekend seems so short. I love my job, but it's just too damned tiring. Maybe I'll get used to it after a while.

Don't have much to write about. Haven't done any deep thinking lately, been too absorbed with continuing commitments with Mssrs DB and Copeland in the office and at home respectively.

A month and a half to go till the wedding. With this sedentary lifestyle of mine, how the hell am I going to get tanned??

Reads: One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez

Current Theme Song: "Beverly Hills" by Weezer

Going Home

2005-05-29T21:27:00.000+08:00

I'll be gone tomorrow. From the UK I mean. I never thought I'd say this, but I'm actually sad to leave this stupid country. Much like in the movies, we never realise how much we love something till we're about to lose it. I grew up a lot here, made a lot of friends, some that I'll cherish till the end of my days (wekk.. uwekkk.. man.. gotta lay off the feel-good stuff). There are loads of memories associated with this country, some good, some bad, but all of them made me the man I am now. (Seriously dude, you gotta shake this nostalgic crap).

I still remember my first day in the UK back in 2001. My world was crumbling, tumbling down to mthe murky depths of oblivion. I stepped out of Heathrow Airport, and all I could see was the gray sky of London, and then it began to rain. I reached some pretty low points in the next year or so, but slowly my life began to turn around.

And now, I'll be going home, five years down the line, hopefully much the wiser. Never thought I'd get here in one piece, but I have. I'll be starting a whole new journey too with Hanim soon, and though I am full of trepidation at the start of this new phase in my life, I'm also quite happy to take the plunge, for if I've learnt anything in my five years in the UK, it is this: as long as you can look back and smile, you've done alright.

Hopefully in twenty years you'll see me reminiscing in a coffee shop and smiling to myself. You're more than welcome to join me for a cuppa if you wish, dear reader.

Oh, and the teh tarik's on me.

"Use the Force, Luke... ". "I'd rather use a good script, Master Obi-Wan"

2005-05-27T19:23:00.000+08:00

Watching Star Wars as I was growing up, I always thought it was a journey of discovery for one Luke Skywalker, from his humble beginnings as a farmboy with aspirations of interstellar travel, to a Jedi Master who restored the Order to its former glory. Having seen the first three parts of the series, however, one's point of view is now switched. The story is no longer about Luke primarily. It's about his father. Hence one would expect the character of Anakin/Darth Vader/all-round badass to be more developed in the first trilogy, as it was not explored as a primary character as such in the second trilogy.

Having seen the first three episodes now, I will attempt to summarise the development of the character Anakin in as few lines as possible.

Episode 1 (The Phantom Menace): "I'm gonna visit all the stars in the galaxy and save my mom from slavery!"

Episode 2 (Attack of the Clones): "I'm impatient... Grrr... I'm angry... grrr... oh no! Mommy's dead! Sob!... Hey hey, who's the hot chick?"

Episode 3 (The Revenge of the Sith): "I'm still impatient... Grrrrrrrr..... I'm still angry...... Grrrrrr... but now I'm conflicted as well.... GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR... but hey hey! I've got cool new lightsaber skills too!... And now, I'm Darth Vader, the most powerful tool of the Dark Side (but still, nonetheless, a tool. Tool. Tooooooooool. And just in case you didn't get that, TOOOOOOOOOOOOOL)

Hey.... hang on a minute. That wasn't so difficult. Oh yeah, that's because there's not much character development in the first place. Much of the so called 'character scenes' consist of Anakin looking like a guy standing in front of the Burger King cashier and considering whether he should get the curly fries or the regular fries. In short, a person with a very difficult decision on his hands (hey, it IS a difficult decision, okay?)

Sigh. Hayden Whatshisname was good especially towards the end, but some of his scenes really made me cringe with embarassment. This guy either has no capacity to express any other emotion apart from teenage angst or the script was really, really, abysmally at some points, bad. But then again, he delivered a sterling performance towards the end, so I guess it evens out to a fair rating. Also, I must admit that when the Darth Vader theme first played (the infamous "jeng jeng jeng jeng je-jeng jeng je-jeng".. I think it sounded better in my head), the geek in me cheered a bit *cough* HELL YEAH!!! *cough* *cough*.

Overall: 3.5 lightsabres out of 5.

Oh, and in other news, I've got an informal offer to work at Deutsche Bank KL. Yay!!!

Unlucky

2005-05-22T01:28:00.000+08:00

Arsenal 0 - 0 Man Utd (Arsenal win 5-4 on penalties)

Arsenal may have won the FA Cup, but they sure have lost something, or they should if they have any shred of decency. They have lost any right to say that Man Utd can play against them and win only by kicking them off the field. Utd didn't kick them off this time; we only totally and completely outplayed the mighty Gunners, who for long periods were made to look second-rate. The stats say it all: Utd had TWENTY shots on goal, with eight on target. The mighty, mighty Arsenal? Five. And one on target. Corners? Arsenal: 1, Man Utd: 12. Fouls? Arsenal: 30, Man Utd: 23. So who's outkicking who again?

In truth, the outcome was a travesty. To have created so much only to go home empty-handed is a sickener. Nonetheless, as much as it pains me to say this, all credit to Arsenal for clinging on for dear life throughout the game, and a round of applause is necessary for their coolness under fire on the penalty spot.

Then again, I'll just throw in the obligatory shout of "Wankers!" anyway.

Changes

2005-05-21T02:03:00.000+08:00

Well, it's finally happened. I'm officially no longer a student, well, at least since Wednesday afternoon. I've finished my final paper, and I am now free. Free from studying, free to do whatever I want.

Except that I don't really know what I want to do. I know what I NEED to do. I need to find a job. I need to settle down. I need to finally earn my keep and not "finishing the beras", as it were. I need to go home. I need to pack up my stuff. I need to do so many things.

I should be happy now. I should be ecstatic. Yet there is this curious sense of emptiness. A sense of loss. Loss of purpose perhaps. I guess we all need a purpose, for without one, the world seems a lonely, lonely place. Without putting your faith in something, without blindly trusting that this is the reason for your existence, we would be as fragile and as flimsy as a dandelion seed floating in the wind, waiting for the next updraft to carry it away to lands unknown.

Sigh.

In more uplifting news, I have an interview with Deutsche Bank on Tuesday. It'd be great if I could get the job, because Hanim'll be working in the same building (albeit in a different company). Wish me luck, folks.

Changes are afoot. Things will never be the same again. But I'll survive, as I always have, Insya-Allah. God is Great. That's all I need to know.

Worries

2005-05-11T22:26:00.000+08:00

Hanim went through surgery today, to remove an ovarian cyst. Alhamdulillah it went fine, and hopefully there won't be any further complications. It worried me to no end though, not being able to do anything about it, not being able to be there.

Then again, it might have been for the best that I wasn't there. Else this might end up to be the case:

"Relax, Mr Ahmad. These things are fairly normal for women of child-bearing age"

"I don't care if it's fairly normal, or even if it's so normal that if it didn't occur, they'd put her on the David Letterman show next to Michael Jackson (who by the way is so freakishly alien-like that the authorities are suspecting that he is in reality a Mexican). Don't tell me to relax goddammit! That's my future you're putting under the knife, you sorry excuse for a surgeon's armpit dripping! So don't tell me to relax, dammit!"

"Relax, sir. She'll be fine"

*scuffle* *punch* *whack!*

Ahhh doctors. Where would we be without them?

Disappointment

2005-05-11T04:57:00.000+08:00

Man Utd 1 - 3 Chelski

None of the Man Utd back four (oh, and the keeper) deserve to wear the Man Utd jersey. Ooh Rio, 100,000 pound a week? World-class defender? You're having a right laugh, aren't you, mama's boy? Wes Brown = shite. Mikael Silvestre = crap. Gary Neville = okay, but could've done better.

Well-done Chelski. Somebody needed to kick Man Utd's collective arse anyway. God knows it's been due.

Exam Fever

2005-05-09T19:00:00.000+08:00

I love you. You're my bestest-ever friend. You're the light at the end of the dark carpal tunnel. You're the thing that gets me through the days and nights when everything collapses around me; when it seems like I can't take it any more, you give me the strength to go on. Thank you.

And just know this: when everything is settled, when my exams and the "oh so massive strain it places on my bodily system that if I keep straining any further, I might develop what can only be described as a bad case of the hernies" that it entails is over, you'll be placed in the highest position you could ever hope to be in.

At the top of the medicine cabinet-lah. Where else should I put you, oh my precious bottle of paracetamol @ panadol @ neurofen?

Quote of the day:

"Lady, people aren't chocolates. You know what they are, mostly? Bastards. Bastard-coated bastards with bastard filling. But I don't find them half as annoying as I find naïve, bubble-headed optimists who walk around vomiting sunshine."
-Dr Perry Cox, Scrubs.

THE MYTH OF JUSTICE IN LAW

2005-04-25T09:12:00.000+08:00

Some people recently asked me why is it that I don't intend to practice as a lawyer. There's amultitude of reasons why; I don't find the work to be stimulating enough (although the study of the law remains terribly interesting to me), I want to try something new, there's not much money in it, etc. However, tonight I think I've come up with another reason: I've actually lost faith in the law, at least the Western legal system, as a mechanism for achieving justice.

Some of you may know that I'm doing American Constitutional Law as my final unit. As I was reading through cases dealing with the post-Civil War amendments to the Constitution, something struck me. The majority of the judges in the Supreme Court were more concerned with upholding their conception of the federal-state relationship in a republican system of government than they were about the protection of the recently-emancipated African-Americans. For example, the Supreme Court in the "Civil Rights Cases" pronounced as unconstitutional an Act of Congress making it an offence for anyone to discriminate on the basis of race with regards to the use of public facilities such as inns and other places of public entertainment: the judges reasoned that Congress had no power to pass such an Act because the 14th Amendment, which was argued to be the clause empowering Congress to pass such an Act, only dealt with discrimination attributable to State action, and not private discrimination. In doing so, the Supreme Court effectively endorsed discriminatory action, so long as it remained a private matter.

This kind of hair-splitting arguments can also be seen in the case of Plessy v Ferguson, where the Supreme Court held that the equal treatment clause in the 14th Amendment did not impute a positive obligation to mix the two races together: the provision of separate but equal facilities is not an infringement of the 14th Amendment equal treatment clause. This decision allowed the states to relegate African-Americans to an inferior status, consistent with their then racist outlook. Thus the Amendments designed to secure the rights of the emancipated slaves were read in as strict a manner as possible, defeating their purpose.

Some may say, "The law is not about justice. It is about certainty." In relation to the Western legal system, this is true, but only to a certain extent. The law, as I see it, is not about achieving justice, nor is it about certainty, not all the time anyway. Sometimes, it is about preserving prejudices and promoting the views of the judges, regardless of the wider implications of their decision.

Somebody once wrote, "Judges are law students who mark their own exam answers". I concur completely.

Post-scriptum: the above views do not apply to Justice Harlan, whose dissenting opinion in the Civil Rights Cases and Plessy v Ferguson I whole-heartedly endorse.

The Space Between

2005-04-22T10:36:00.000+08:00

This is an old song, by Dave Matthews Band but somehow I've always associated Nim with it. Never thought much about it, but tonight I think this line is the one that sticks in my head:

"The space between, the tears we cry, is the laughter that keeps us coming back for more".

I miss her. Terribly. The way she becomes a mad when I don't honk at a person cutting in front of my car, the way she complains that I take too much sugar with my tea, the way she takes her time to park the car (back in the days when she wasn't such a great driver, ya know. She's a great driver now, man. Honest!). But mostly, I just miss the way she smiles whenever I come along. Sometimes I don't know whether I tell her that enough.

Ahh. I have to snap out of this nostalgic, romantic spell. Right now I'm supposed to be reading, understanding and memorising the chain of events that began from the Constitutional settlement concerning the issue of slavery in the newly-formed United States in 1787 to the eventual secession of the Southern States and the forming of the Confederacy as a direct response to Abraham Lincoln's victory in the Presidential elections as a Republican, a party formed with a specific anti-slavery platform. I'm also supposed to understand and interpret the various Supreme Court decisions dealing with the issue of slavery, such as Prigg v Pennsylvania and ultimately of course Dred Scott v Sanford (the case which arguably accelerated the advent of the Civil War), and to understand the complex relations between slavery and the federal/state relationship.

Sorry. Got carried away with my US Constitutional Law musings there. If you're expecting anything funny (which usually comes right about this time in my blog entries), sorry.. I'm fresh out. I'm too tired to put out tonight, dear readers.

Erkk..

That just didn't come out right.

SCARY SHIT

2005-04-13T22:21:00.000+08:00

Today I did some thinking (pause for the statutory round of applause on that remarkable achievement). I am so scared of getting married. There is so much out there that I have no idea about, no control over, and regardless of how much I try to prepare for it, I'll probably still be caught with my pants down (pause for the statutory cringe due to extremely vivid imagery employed). For instance, my career is not sorted out, though steps have been taken to remedy that situation. We don't know where we're going to stay after the whole wedding brouhaha has passed over, we don't know this, we don't know that, we don't know squat.

However, I've come to the realisation that, as scared as I am, and I AM scared shitless, this is something I have to do. I've found the person I love, more than any other person in this world, and I'm not going to let the chance to spend the rest of my days making her feel the same pass me by simply on account of this yellow streak running from the tip of my head all the way to my ar*e. To lose out on this opportunity of a lifetime on account of being scared is cowardly. Sure, there may be bumps ahead, hell, we've gone through enough bumps in the road even before we're married, but Hanim, being the wonderful woman she is, has gone through all that for me, for the sake of what we could become. If I am too much of a poltroon not to want to do the same for her, then any plea for clemency on my part should fall on deaf ears. Period.

Aahh, the wonders of love, the cynics may say, "You'll find out soon enough that married life isn't just a bed of roses". I agree. I agree completely. But I'd rather spend my life trying to pull out the thorns that pieced my skin than be the person laughing from a distance at my foolishness in getting into that thorny rose bush, but never being close enough themselves to stop and enjoy the scent.

Love is like a blue pillow. Most of the time it's nice and soft, but sometimes it's liable to hurt you. Badly. Really badly. But still, you can't sleep without a pillow now, can you? Well, you can, but it'd be too uncomfortable. But then again I DO know some people who like sleeping without pillows. Maybe they're just masochists.. hmm.. But I'm sure most people like sleeping with pillows. Or do they?

As a friend once said, I am the only person she knows who could have a conversation with himself, and still lose.

Current read: Sealy, Cases and Materials on Company Law

Financial status: Loaded, but pretending to be broke, so much so that I believe it myself!

DRAMA KING

2005-04-07T00:48:00.000+08:00

If it's possible for a guy to be a drama queen (which may or may not involve some gender transmogrification), I think I am one. The smallest things can trigger my obnoxiously fragile temperament, although perhaps some things are more likely to trigger it than others. Like comments from my other half. Yes, yes, the rational side of me knows that she means only the best, but goddammit woman! Can't you see I'm not being the paragon of rationality here?

I love her, anyway.

Relationships can be hard. Especcially when you've got an insecure bugger like me to deal with. Yes, guys can be insecure too, for all the disbelieving womenfolk. Most of us are just better at hiding it I suppose. I'm working on it though... hey, come to think of it, reading through my past few entries, it's been nothing but negativity. I'm either too sensitive, too angry, too irrational, too insecure. Screw this. I'm going to say something that probably doesn't mean anything to you readers but it doesn't matter, because this blog is simply, as eloquently put by a friend, 'verbal diarrhoea' and you'd be lucky to come out of this blog smelling like yesterday's dinner. So here goes:

YOU ARE IMPERFECT! YOU NEED TO LEARN TO ACCEPT THAT STUPID FACT, AND NOT BE SO EFFING HARD ON YOUR EFFING SELF! ALL YOU NEED TO DO IS TO MAKE THE BEST WITH WHAT YOU HAVE! AND FOR Nth TIME, BE GRATEFUL FOR WHAT YOU HAVE, YOU PATHETIC WHINER!

Now THAT'S a pep talk. To myself of course. Not to you, dear readers. Unless you feel like taking that on board. If you do, by all means go ahead. Unless you don't want to. Then don't.

I think I need to go to my happy place now.

THIS LITTLE LIGHT OF MINE, I'M GONNA LET IT SHINE

2005-03-29T17:43:00.000+08:00

*deep breath*

Got a rejection from KPMG today. That in itself didn't hurt so bad. The feedback was long-winded, full of sometimes conflicting statements (e.g. I appear to avoid taking responsibility vs. I operate better alone or with a small team) but the essence of it was.. I'm crap.

I hate it when you judge me on the basis of an interview. One lousy interview and you think you can say confidently that I'm aloof, that I'm unable to work in a team environment, that I can't accept other people's ideas, that I haven't talked to those working in the field I'm aiming for, that I'm not sufficiently motivated for the job.

Who the hell do you think you are, KPMG?

*Another deep breath*

On the plus side, it seems that I'm commercially sound etc etc. Shows how much you actually know about me, you wanker.

NEW AGE SENSITIVE MAN (YUCK)

2005-03-25T00:50:00.000+08:00

"Hi. My name is Ahmad. I'm a sensitive man."

"Hi Ahmad!" echoed the room full of recovering sensitive men. We then proceeded to talk about our experiences, what makes us tick the way we do, what we do to overcome our problems. And then we all gather around for a nice big ol' group hug, and finish with big mugs of hot chocolate each.

Obviously there's no such thing as a Sensitivics (huh??) Anonymous, but if one did exist, this would probably be what I have to say:

I was born sensitive. Being sensitive isn't such a bad thing. I can empathise with people at times, and I can understand where a person is coming from better than most others. But it also means that I get hurt easily; that may not be such a bad thing when you're a kid, because obviously your parents would never set out to harm you. But as I grew older, many things have happened that have shaped the way I thought, the way I felt. Things that made it worse at times, that basically shaped my personality as a somewhat insecure person, an easily-depressed cynic who is self-critical to a point of obsession. Some other things made me better, I suppose. Those other things taught me the ability to survive, to not care about what people say, to erect an emotional barrier impenetrable in most circumstances.

I know how hard it can be to be around a person like me. Trust me. Nowadays it's getting better. I still experience those weird moments when friends don't really know what to say, the 'awkward silence' as they put it, but it's not so often now. I wonder why it is that the silence gets really awkward. Maybe it's because of that hurt look I have plastered on my face. Maybe it's because I just lapse into my own thoughts of anguish and insecurity. Maybe because that God-awful grimace that passes off for a smile in those circumstances is just that... God-awful. In any case, for all those moments, let me just say that I'm sorry. And for sticking by me despite all that, I thank you. From the bottom of my oh-so-fragile heart.

As I said, it's getting better. I'll try my best to be less sensitive, and as someone recently said, I need to harden up. I need to act like a real man.

A real man doesn't cry.

ANGER MANAGEMENT

2005-03-13T20:06:00.000+08:00

I need to cool off somewhere, somehow. When I'm angry everything seems a blur, and thoughts, rational ones at least, don't come easily. But when I cool down, all that is left to say is usually this:

I'm sorry.

So what's the point?

THINGS NOT TO SAY IN AN INTERVIEW

2005-02-19T07:27:00.000+08:00

Q: Why do you want to join the assurance team?

A: You want answers?

Q: I want the truth!

A: Well you can't handle the truth!!

Cue the obligatory Jack Nicholson-ish semi-psychotic stare. Luckily for me, the interviewer was a big Tom Cruise fan himself. He smiled and we both walked out together, hand in hand, him assuring me that the firm could use A Few Good Men like myself. We then walked off into the sunset, with "Stars and Stripes Forever" playing in the background.

It was then that I woke up, grateful that it WAS a dream...

and promptly smacked myself silly. What the hell am I saying? I'd even put on one of those stupid Popeye suits if that'd get me a job...

I LOVE EVERTON

2005-02-14T00:12:00.000+08:00

Okay, I don't love Everton, but after Rooney's goal and Richard Dunne's own goal, you can't blame me for that headline now, can you?

Back to reality, then. Next week's a busy one. Well, relatively anyway. A presentation on Wednesday, an interview on Thursday, and Puan Rooh's farewell dinner on Friday. Urgghh. I hate going to these social events. I'm not the most social person around; in fact, I'm sure those of you who know me personally would probably describe me as a rather introvert character at dinner parties. Okay, okay. I'll qualify that. I'm an introvert at those parties when Hanim is not around. When she is, I suddenly and shockingly metamorphosise into this confident-yet-amusingly-tactless sod who has an uncanny ability to contract foot-in-mouth symptoms. Happy, Min?

Slept at 5.30 last night. Had a long and sometimes thoughtful (but mostly it was just guy talk, which as you may think involves none other than sex, sex, and procreation. Errmm... yeah.. that's right. That's what we did. We talked about sex. Really.) discussion with Ali, Apai and up until 4 am, Pete. It was good fun. Found out that Ali had a couple of cheerleader friends who, for his birthday, decided to give him what can only be described as a private performance. No, you perverts, it was a special cheer they made up for him. Wow.

(Mental note: must get Hanim to buy cheerleading outfit, and to compose special cheer. Maybe I should get a pair of leotards as well.)

Oh shit. That was supposed to be a mental note, dammit!

WANTED: A HTML-LITERATE UBER-COOL SUPER GEEK FOR VOLUNTARY WORK ASSISTING THE 'WEB DESIGN'-ILY CHALLENGED

2005-02-09T07:29:00.000+08:00

I'm feeling rather sluggish (if perchance one glances at the title and ponders the lack of ability to come up with a suitable word, this fact will become very much apparent), and not totally up for the challenge of updating this blog. However, I shall persevere.

In any case, I really need someone to help me out with the html coding. Somehow, the page looks different in IE compared to Firefox. It looks neater and much more legible in IE, but I personally don't use IE and I know some others who don't. So some help with optimising the page for both types of user would be great.

Umm.. hello? Anybody listening? Oh right. Forgot hardly anybody reads my blog. With the exception of Ms. (soon to be Mrs.) Nik Hanim of course. Now, Hanim, put that crowbar down. Really. Use this soft blue pillow instead.

Ermm.. on the other hand...*

I seriously regret taking up American Constitutional Law as my final semester elective. It's doing my head in. The amount of reading is bad enough, but my total lack of familiarity with American history is rather embarassing. I am often irritated by the tendency of American jurists and legislators to appeal to vague and woolly principles, such as those concerning liberty, as espoused by John Locke and Thomas Payne, and the republican ideology and the checks and balances system of separation of power, as argued by Plato in "The Republic". I am also irritated by the Supreme Court's tendency to sway from one political spectrum to the other, from Marshall CJ's bold statement of federal supremacy in Marbury v Madison, to Taney CJ's lame attempt to defend the institution of slavery by reference to state sovereignty arguments (this being due to his inherently racist upbringing, one might argue) in Dred Scott v Sandford, a case which accelerated the course towards the American Civil War.

Hey. I DO know something about the topic. Neat-o.

*(for anyone without the arcane knowledge of the 'blue-pillow mystery', please consult Ms. Yazmin. I'm sure she'd be happy to fill you in.)

I'M SORRY

2005-02-05T01:34:00.000+08:00

On my way to uni today, an old man with what to my untrained eye seems to be a case of Alzheimer's disease asked me, "Does this bus go to the Angel?" Smiling, I said no. "You need to take this bus here, the number 18, and change at Euston to a no. 30, 73 or 205". I doubt he heard me, and I doubted even more that he actually understood what I was saying. I offered to take him to the Angel, as I was heading there anyway. He didn't seem to understand me, but I didn't care, I really wanted to help him. I was determined to get him to Angel safely.

Somehow though, when he got on the number 18 bus, a number of people offered to help him out. I didn't want to impose myself upon others, and anyway I had already changed my mind about getting him to Angel, as I was late for Friday prayers and had to rush. So when we neared Euston, I jumped out of the bus and grabbed a bus behind it, the number 205, a bit guiltily I suppose, for abandoning the guy, but secure in the knowledge that somebody would help him out surely.

The bus was a bit slow, so the number 18 managed to arrive at its final stop before I passed it. When I eventually did go pass it, the old dishevelled man was standing there looking lost and terrified. I don't know whether he made it to Angel safely, heck, I don't even know why he was making the journey in the first place. Who was he seeing... friends? family? I hope he got to see them, and I hope they take good care of him.

I don't know you, old man, and I doubt you'd be reading this. But I have to apologise anyway, and as you can perhaps see, my train of thout is rather messed up at the moment; a pretty good indication of the guilt I feel inside. I could've helped you out, but I didn't. I'm sorry for being such a hypocrite, for complaining that the problem with humanity is that we just don't care about each other and yet leaving you alone on the sidewalks of Euston Square without knowing what to do or where to go. I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

THIS BREATHTAKING, AWE-INSPIRING, FEET-SWEATING, PANTS-SOILING, A-THRILL-A-MINUTE GEM CALLED.. ERMM.. FOOTIE

2005-02-02T07:23:00.000+08:00

Playing with 10 men, away from home, against the mighty Gunners...

Arsenal 2 - Manchester United 4 (yes, FOUR)

"That's class" said Andy Gray, the Sky Sports commentator. Just about sums it up.

Bye-bye Arsene "sulk-meister" Wenger.

ME COUCHER POUR DORMIR

2005-02-01T06:11:00.000+08:00

I have trouble sleeping. I can't seem to put my head down at night without things crowding around this noggin of mine. Sometimes I think I hear things, things that make my heart skip a beat each and every time. But then again, it might just be my brain playing tricks on me, just another way it deceives me into not thinking about the things that are really keeping me wide awake.

Like the fact that I am approaching 25, and I have yet to achieve anything worthwhile. It bothers me that I am still at university at this age, whilst friends and acquaintances have already had a start to their working lives. Some are married, heck, some even have kids. I know I can't change things, and I can't replace the two years of being lost in the wild. All the same, it haunts me. I am consumed by the need to constantly prove that I am not dumb. Somehow, I have trouble believing that, even when confronted with evidence to the contrary.

I am a proud man. I admit that. Pride is the thing that drives me on, I suppose. Too much pride, however, is to a certain degree my weakness. When I fail, when I lose, it haunts me, like a line from a song that irritates the heck out of you but you just can't seem to shake it off your mind (think Cheeky Girls). I've got to start learning how to let go.

What is this that I fear?
Anonymous disquietude,
Pervasive yet obscure,
All-consuming,
Never-ending,
A dull ache,
To a torrid roar.

I think I fear failure most of all.

IT'S ALIVE!

2005-01-31T09:46:00.000+08:00

Well, it's a new layout. And a new background. Born totally out of extreme boredom and frustration.

Self-censorship is a must in this case. Perhaps it's not such a good idea to be blogging your feelings out at 2 am anyway.

But let's just go this far: There are things in life that annoy us, and most of the time we can either do something about it, or just let it go.

Those aren't the things keeping me awake.

Oh and just so you know, the layout looks best with IE. That's what the majority of you guys would be using anyway. Myself, I use Firefox, but that's neither here nor there.

Oh you can just tell that I'm depressed, can't you?

CUT AND PASTE GENERATION

2005-01-28T07:41:00.000+08:00

Found this link on a late night search for internet horror. No.. not porn. Horror. Really.

I'm a cynic, but this story, far-fetched as it is, managed to somehow unsettle me. We already live in an age where information is sensationalised, where things are perhaps spun out of all proportions, without respect to those actually affected, just for ratings.

Case in point? The tsunami disasters. I'm not saying that the victims didn't suffer THAT much, that we're just making a big fuss over nothing. No. That's not it. They have suffered beyond my my wildest imagination, and my imagination is a bucking bronco. To have lost loved ones, no, to have WATCHED them swept away to certain death is something I pray I shall never ever have to experience.

What I'm talking about is the news coverage by CNN, BBC and Sky among others. Yes, these people are suffering, we know that, we should do something about it, give money, give energy, give your special skills as a doctor, engineer, whatever you can do. Or at the very least, pray that their sufferings are alleviated. What you DON'T do is to spin the whole thing around just so you could get better ratings, showing the same images of death and destruction every five seconds just because, let's face it, death and destruction sells. What you don't do is to have a small clip showing an on-site reporter perusing through a collection of wet blackboard chalk drying in the front yard of a Sri Lankan school, telling the sad story of destitution, and THEN, just before the clip cuts back to the studio with the newscaster looking terribly concerned about the whole thing, the bloody reporter proceeds to throw the chalk dismissively back on to the drying mound.

Do we really care? Or is it just something we produce because that's what the world wants to see?

If the answer to the latter is yes, are we then really much better off than the cut-and-paste generation in the Flash movie above? Is it better to have sub-human beings also known as tv ratings executives deciding what should be told to the masses, or to have an automated machine deciding so, based on our spending patterns and our demographics? Yes, we may end up being so narrow-minded that we can't distinguish the woods from the tree, but aren't we like that already?

"mankind is governed by pain and pleasure". Unfortunately, I tend to agree with Mr. Bentham on that.

OH HAPPY DAY

2005-01-15T23:46:00.000+08:00

Woke up this morning, the sky was blue, the sun was out, the birds were cheerfully chirping their lives away... oh and Man Utd won 1-0 away at Liverpool. What a feeling.

WE LOVE ROONEY, EVERTON'S A FOOL,
WE LOVE UNITED, BUT WE ALL HATE LIVERPOOL!

GO ON, THE RED DEVILS!!

GO HOME, YA SAD SCOUSE WANKERS!

Oh, and a special message for Morientes:

MORIEN-WHO???

YA SHOULD'VE JOINED A BIG CLUB, YA SPANISH SOD!

Okay. That's enough hooliganism to for a year or two.

KILLING ME SOFTLY WITH ITS BEEPS

2005-01-08T05:48:00.000+08:00

"Hey there sports fans! How's your day? Good? Excellent! Well, mine's so-so. My computer just tried to kill me with its beeps. But hey! It's all good!"

Now there's a sentence I never thought I'd see. Or type for that matter. However, my computer IS trying to kill me with its incessant "BEEP!... BEEP!... BEEP!". It started this morning when I woke up facing the dreaded blue screen of death and destruction, and now the frigging thing won't start, but it WILL beep me to death. Typical. I'm sure Bill Gates is just the devil trying to walk on Earth incognito. But I'm on to you, Billy-boy. I'm on to you. One day you'll be walking calmly down that Microsoft Way of yours and then BAM! All you'll see then through the shearing pain down your shattered pelvis is the back of my Porsche 911T cruising off into the sunset with what seems to be the broken remains of your glasses. And the prescriptions for those glasses. Hell, I might as well take your eyeballs for that matter.

Okay, enough with the casual swearing and the macabre dreams of revenge. What matters is that I managed to salvage my courseworks and dissertation stuff so I'm safe in that area. What pisses me off however, is that I think my mobo is fried, and that means I have to get a new mobo, and probably a new processor. But that means I might as well get a new PC. And that means more money. And you, dear fans, you of all people should know that there are only three things that are certain in life: death, taxes and my overwhelming lack of the moolah.

And you know what? At least I can try and cheat the first two.

TWO VISITORS

2004-12-23T05:32:00.000+08:00

I want to write. I want to tell a story.

However, I think what I really want is an inspiration, something that tells itself, something knocking the door at the back of my mind, wanting to be let in, and all I have to do is to open that door. Lately I have been thinking about a few men I keep bumping into. Both normally hang out around Oxford Street, though I have seen the first guy somewhere else. He always walks around in trainers, a pair of tennis shorts if it's summer, a navy blue track bottom in winter. He carries with him a megaphone, through which he spouts mixed messages; God's love to all mankind, but at times fulminating profusely about how the rest of the world is going to hell in a handbasket. He never tires of his own voice, and he does not care whether anyone is listening; to him, the sound of his own voice is a comfort, a reassurance of his own mortality, his very existence, an affirmation that this is not a dream. He proclaims proudly that he exists, and to my mind he does so brilliantly, no matter how poor, how ineffective his diatribes can be.

The second man also declares his existence, but in a more subtle and gentle way. I often see him outside John Lewis, where he plays his violin every day, full of passion and energy and at times, sadness. Maybe it is because he is blind that I construe him as a gentle soul. I once wanted to buy him a drink, coffee perhaps, but instead, I sat down on a bench, and listened. In truth, I was afraid. Afraid that I am wrong about him. Maybe what I perceive him to be is merely a construct of my memories, of childhood tales of kindness to those less fortunate. If such is the case, however, I am glad. At least I have yet to lose the capacity to think kindly of others.

Hark! Is that the sound of my muse approaching, gently tapping, ceaselessly tapping on the door?

- `'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door
Only this, and nothing more.' -
Edgar Allan Poe

HAPPINESS IS AN IPOD AWAY

2004-12-09T17:49:00.000+08:00

I am currently at the MARA Hostel Lounge waiting for my new mobile phone to arrive. It's a Sony Ericsson K700i, and I got it for free. Well, not technically free. I'm now contractually bound to stay with Vodafone for the next 12 months, I can't change my tariff for the next 6 months, and generally be its bitch till say, oh, December 2005. Oh, and did I mention I've mortgagaged half of my proverbial soul as well?

Oh well. At least Hanim is going to get a new phone. Yes, that is right, my friend. Ahmad, lately known as mayomyth or even Silverfeck, will be giving away his brand new phone to his fiancee. But hey! It'll make her happy, and what's a phone compared to the happiness of the person you love?

I'm too sappy for my own good sometimes.

It got me thinking though. Why do we feel this overwhelming need to get all the new stuff, all supposedly 'cool' gadgets that supposedly make us feel marginally better about our lives? Well, at least up until the next cool thing comes up. I'm not saying I haven't been guilty of the same thing. Far be it from the truth. Heck, if I had the money, you probably won't be reading this, because it'd be likely that I'd be queuing up for an iPod at PCWorld rather than typing this sour-grapey rant reserved only for those either with no money or no super-rich dad capable of supporting a platinum credit-card for his son.

As it is, I have neither. So I'll just pretend to have higher principles and sneer at all those people getting new iPods, new handphones with a built in camera and video recorder with resolutions of up to 9808 million gigapixels, new set of 13.1 speakers with diamond-plated wiring and say:

"Does it all make you really happy? Does it?"

Unfortunately, most of them will emphatically answer "YEAH!!"

Damned wankers.

I HAVE NO MONEY AND I MUST SPEND

2004-12-08T21:04:00.000+08:00

It is really, really, really annoying when I have no money. Unfortunately that tends to happen quite, quite, quite often. As a result I am often so, so, so, so bloody annoyed. Which is why most people find me so, so, so weird at times.

As you can probably see I am feeling pretty bored. I have sat in front of this bloody computer thinking abt how the heck am I going to end this bloody essay on the effect of Salomon v Salomon Ltd on the principle of incoporation of public comp yadayadayadayada.. (this actually goes on for about another half an hour... come back later)

(half an hour later)

This weekend I shall be doing something I have never ever ever ever done (my life is repetitive, I get it). I'll be supporting the *Bleep!*-ing Gunners against Chelsea. Well, it IS the lesser of two evils.

Is it just me or does Jose Mourinho look like an older version of Tim Cahill?

Ooh... Apai has got a new flat screen monitor. That'll keep him happy for the next, oh, say 25 seconds or so.

Ciao.

Kicking ass and taking no prisoners,

Mayomyth @ Silverfeck @ Ahmad (what a letdown)

THIS IS A JOINT BROADCAST: PLEASE VISIT APAI'S BLOG, AN AFFILIATED MEMBER OF THE GRUMPY-YOUNG-MEN-IN-ARMS BROTHERHOOD

2004-11-26T06:59:00.000+08:00

What is up with the various taglines behind those MSN nicknames? For example:

(some anonymous nick): (you gave me happiness)
(another anonymous nick): in pain
(yet another anonymous nick): known to carry big things
etc.. etc.. repeat ad nauseum

Do you guys honestly think people reading those nicks will think you're cooler than you already are (which is by no means saying that you were cool in the first place) just because you have a 'catchy' tag to your nick? I'll say this in as nice a way as possible: NOBODY BLOODY CARES ABOUT THAT TAGLINE, IT WILL NOT MAKE YOU COOL, IT WILL NOT GET YOU HOT BABES IN HOT PANTS, AND HOW ABOUT THIS SPORTS FANS, YOU WILL DIE ALONE ANYWAY!

okay. That's off my chest. Time to get a cup of tea.

mayomyth_+-=dying alone=-+_

post scriptum: I feel so much cooler. Darn. That thing works.

INTERNET!! WOOHOO!!

2004-11-23T21:17:00.000+08:00

my house is now a civilised one. we finally have Internet access. Sheesh. after a month of being isolated, the great Bulldog in the sky finally deemed us worthy of his favour. Damned mutt.

Held an Eid open house ove the weekend. We budgented for about 120 guests, although by the look of things, it was more like 120 guests and their distant relatives. As somebody once said, "if something could go balls-up, it probably will". In this case, many things did. Like the fact that the 'nasi himpit' was not 'himpit'-ed enough, overbudgeting of food resulting in gross wastage, the kind that'll probably make even americans blush, and lack of sleep due to sleepless nights spent making the bloody thing work.

But hey! it was good fun. for about half an hour or so.

Mood: Neutral

THIS POINTLESS EXISTENCE

2004-11-08T21:03:00.000+08:00

I get it. I complain too much. I just have no motivation to study anymore. I can't see myself as a lawyer in 3 year's time. I don't know where I'll be in 3 year's time.

But on the bright side, I've settled in my new house, with new roommates, new problems. Sigh.

Nothing new to write about. Even after a month. Shows you what a miserable life I lead.

Mood: Negatively-pessimistic

GOODBYE TO ALL THAT (WITH APOLOGIES TO ROBERT GRAVES, WHO MUST BE TURNING IN HIS, YOU KNOW, GRAVE)

2004-09-25T18:30:00.000+08:00

From today onwards, I will, in my on-going journey to perfection, be more positive in my outlook. Okay, it's not like it's a big step, but those who know me will attest to the fact that I am unfailingly a pessimist. Not any more. From this moment on, I shall be known as Happy Ahmad, much like the Spring-Heeled Jack of fame.

Oh wait a minute. Wasn't that the nickname of Jack the Ripper?

Hmm.. Maybe a positive outlook isn't such a good thing. But I shall nonetheless give it a go. Anything's better than this angst-driven existence that I call a life. Heck. Maybe I'm too old for angst. I think at some point in time, angst simply ceases to be cool and becomes rather like that 45-year-old guy with a pot belly living in his mom's apartment still thinking he's the man but with nothing to show for it apart from a couple of bed-sores and a dream of greatness, dreams that seem to drift further and further away from him as if swept by a river unseen, as the lonely nights pile up on top of him like clods of earth being thrown into a grave, suffocating, blinding, deafening silence of his own anger.

Yeah. That's the spirit. The first step to recovery is accepting that you have a problem. But I'm not that 45-year-old guy of course. I think he'd be the future version of me, if I don't kick off this habit of feeding off my anger. Either that, or I could be the next Robert Graves, or perhaps even Siegfried Sassoon. Unlikely though, unless I learn to write better.

Note to self: Stop hating your future landlord.

Current read: Black Death to the Industrial Revolution: A socio-economic history of Britain

Current mood: Pissed and Bored.

HERE WE GO AGAIN

2004-08-24T22:21:00.000+08:00

Sorry for the long gap between posts. I've been too busy with work, applications and general clutter to post a blog these past few months.

Oh wait. Work, you say? I can hear the naysayers saying, well, "Nay!". Ahmad doesn't work. Well, I did. For two whole months. And in return, I received a measly 300 bucks a month. The future doesn't bode well for an aspiring lawyer in Malaysia. Maybe it's karma. But then again, I thought the essence of the whole karma idea was that bad people get reincarnated as lower-level life forms or sumthing like that. I must've been some really evil, rotten, downright despicable person in my past life. Maybe a driving instructor or something of that ilk.

I hate applying to law firms for a job. It takes the best of six or seven hours just to complete the form, not to mention the time wasted checking up on the stuff and the countless hours wasted infront of the computer doing research on the firms... and for what? I've lost count of the number of computer-generated rejections I've received over the past few weeks. Still, I should count myself lucky to get an interview at Clifford Chance. However, I'm still pissed with the rest of the lot so here's my bitching over and done with:

FRESHFIELDS BRUCKHAUS DERINGER, HERBERT SMITH, NORTON ROSE, ALLEN & OVERY,EVERSHEDS, SLAUGHTER & MAY et al... YOU SUCK!!!

I know. It's lame. But hey! As they keep saying in their letters, it's nothing personal. I just hate you guys.

FOUR MEMORIES AND A WEDDING

2004-06-13T10:31:00.000+08:00

My friend got married in Ipoh yesterday. Congratulations Acong, if you're reading this. Hope you guys have a great life together (though I hardly know your wife!). It was such a surprise to see Acong... he was so HUGE (and before any of you get any ideas, I am NOT gay!). I remembered that he was always quite big anyway, but seeing him yesterday was still a shock. My, how people change when you're not looking, especially if you've turned your eye aside for the past six years or so.

It was nice as well to see my other friends whom I've not seen for oh so long. A lot of em are married already. One's actually teaching in Malacca right now. Funny.. I never thought that Fahmi Miskon would turn out to be a lecturer, but there you go. Shows you how much of a clairvoyant I am. Fahmi or 'sukun' as we called him, was somebody who, shall we say, liked to ride without a saddle. Or go au naturale. Let's leave it at that. :P

Went there with Feud's car, hence it was the perfect occasion for a 3-hour nostalgic reminiscing session. Feud was a really close friend back in KMYS... I spent quite a lot of time in his room playing Final Fantasy VII. Hadn't seen him for four years up till then... I suppose the difference between a true friend and a "hi-and bye" type is that no matter how long you've been separated, once you get together it'll be just like it was before; no awkwardness, no difference.

Speaking of KMYS, I love that place. Sure, there were some painful memories associated with it, but hey! I grew up a lot there. Seeing Puan Raha again was good. Hearing that she was happier now was excellent.

It's good to have a place to come home to.

My Indie Project

2004-06-11T08:09:00.000+08:00

Talked to a friend a couple of days back. He's doing something along the movie-making lines lah, and he's actually freelancing at a post-production house in Wangsa Maju. He asked me about whether I was interested in making an indie movie. At the time the whole idea seemed nonsensical to me, but now when I've thought about it a little, it seems like a good idea. After all, I was always the one complaining about the comparative lack of outlets for my oh-so-great creative side. ;P

So I've thought about a couple of things that might be interesting. At this point, I've come up with two themes, one uplifting and the other depressing but revelatory (I think). The first deals with the question of whether it's better to dream and risk it not being fulfilled or not to expect anything at all and to be content with what we have, explored through the medium of a boy's mind growing up in the kampung of the 70's and his relentless exploits to win the love of a much older girl named (at this point) Jamilah. I won't bother to deal with the second one at this point,it's not as well developed. Tell me what you think.

BACK WHERE I BELONG

2004-06-07T10:30:00.000+08:00

I'm back in Malaysia. Sure feels good to be home, to stay in my own room again. Is it just me, or are flights getting more and more boring? I spent the whole flight doing a bloody crossword puzzle. Even the movies suck. The only movie perhaps worth watching was maybe Starsky and Hutch, but the thing is I've already seen that movie. I mean, come on, "Girl Next Door"?? I'd rather watch the bloody Teletubbies smother each other with pillows.
Forgive the moaning and the excessive use of somewhat foul language. I've been reading Vernon God Little, a good read, maybe I'll do a lil review when I'm done with it.

Latest read: "I'm not scared" by Niccolo Ammaniati. A good book for those trying to recapture the lost beauty of childhood. It's translated into English from an Italian text, so I suppose some of its magnificence must have been lost in the process. Nevertheless the translator manages to capture the essence of the childhood terrors and thoughts that make that period of our lives the so wondrous. 3* out of 4.

House-hunting

2004-06-04T02:27:00.000+08:00

Life is like house-hunting. Just when you think everything's going your way, when everything seems perfect, that's when you have to be extra careful, for usually that's when life decides to throw you a sucker punch right in the nosh. Usually it's really painful. Like when the landlord tells you that your dream house is already off the market.

Call me cynical, bitter, whatever. I'm not a bitter old hack. I am the product of that complex equation called experience. To my eyes everything has a hidden meaning, so that you always have to be on your guard. I guess the time may come that I shall realise that it may perhaps be better to view the world through rose-tinted glasses of our desires, but that time is not now, and I can't see it happening in the foreseeable future.

"Men have PMS too", somebody said that on the tagboard i think. True, but I think ours are triggered by specific events rather than specific times.

But then again that may just be me.

My Boring Life

2004-05-02T22:28:00.000+08:00

Well, in the aftermath of the 'battle of room 12' we no longer have internet access in my place. So here I am, in an internet cafe in Baker Street expressing my thoughts. My parents are here in London; we're holing up in one of the apartments nearby. Which kind of explains why I am in Baker Street too.

I've been stuck in my room for the past couple of days now, reading up on Equity and Trusts. You never really know the meaning of boredom until you've read the thing you're supposed to read at least 10 times, repeated it in your head at least 5 times , and (if you're lucky enough) find a sod unlucky enough to be within earshot and polite enough to pretend to listen to you rant about the thing at least once a day. In this case, the unlucky (and extremely polite, I might add) sod is my sister. Merci. And a lot of that too.

I think I am an intensely boring person.

I COULD SERIOUSLY KILL SOMEONE SOON (well.. not THAT seriously)

2004-04-30T00:35:00.000+08:00

Anybody who knows anything about me would know that I'm not too happy with my roomie. Well.. this morning things came to a head. He was the guy who was in charge of the Internet acess in our house, and naturally when there was no internet connection, the first thing I did was to ask him about it. I actually needed to access my uni webmail, because I had a sneaking feeling that there was a revision lecture today. Well there was, but I digress. In any case, I asked the guy in a normal, polite manner about the connection. He didn't answer me at first, so I repeated the query. He then brushed me off with a curt, "I don't know". Well... another thing that those who know me would know is that I have a short fuse too. So I decided to take a shower, but not before giving him a retort to the effect that he's not the only one having exams. I went out, had a shower, came back and turned on his computer myself so that I could do something about the internet connection, since he's obviously not going to do anything about it. He then came back into the room, and at the same instant, I accidentally hit his speakers as I was turning around. He then glared at me, and said, "Why are you taking it out on my stuff, then?" I mumbled something to the effect that it was an accident. Hours later, while he was still out, I thought I was a bit rude too, and it WAS a bit thoughtless of me to get into a row with the guy on the morning of his exams. So I left him a note on his table, saying I was sorry about all that, and that I didn't mean to get into the whole mess before his exams.

Guess what he did when he got home?

He brushed the paper aside, and has yet to say anything to me.

So I am sitting here, typing this rant of mine, witnessing my note of apology still probably unaccepted trashed by the side of his table.

The difference between me and him? We've both got short fuses, but at least I have a conscience.

And I'm also better looking. :p

Trustees... my most hated word.

2004-04-29T00:20:00.000+08:00

Two blogs in two days... man I must reaaaaaaaly be bored. I think I started studying a little too early this year. I'm currently very much exhausted by it all... and running out of steam too. I've noticed that this happens every year. The nearer I get to the exams, the lazier I get. That's NOT a good thing.

Current read: powers of a trustee to maintain a minor, and power of a trustee to advance capital to beneficiaries. Boring, huh?

Mama and Papa's arriving soon. Hopefully that'll sort out my laziness. Have to buck up, starting now. I think I'll take a shower first tho.

But before that: Have you ever noticed that (and this perhaps only applies to those Malaysians in the UK, and still studying of course) we never get to enjoy the best times of the year, since during that time we're stuck in the house memorising stuff we won't even care about in 2 month's time?? Exams suck. Period.

2004-04-27T23:12:00.000+08:00

I hate the fact that those who want you to do something/ be something else never say it out loud. It's always concealed behind a facade e.g. "Oh, I don't mind you wanting to do that, but wouldn't it be boring though? and why the sudden change in interests anyway? I thought you always wanted to do this, and that etc". You end up having to justify the decisions you made. Not that anything's certain anyway. What I decide now will probably be of little relevance in 10 years' time. But it pisses me off that people want to have a say in what I am, in what I become and they don't even have the decency to come out and say it. The former is enough to piss me off anytime; the latter though... man, this sucks. Am I being paranoid and neurotic? You tell me... I'm the one Nadia called a "younger version of Woody Allen". Although I think I look better.