Insomnia is an old friend. I haven't seen her in a while, but she's on an extended visit this time around. I been able to catch not a wink of sleep in 36 hours, and I'm weary.
I guess that the word for it: weary. I've had a lot of things running through my mind, and I wish I could make them stop.
I wish I could start things anew. I wish I could leave the baggage of yesterday behind and instead embrace the promises of tomorrow. I wish I could drop the weight of yesterday's ghosts.
But you can't, can you?
Sometimes you're just so overwhelmed, it overcomes everything else so absolutely, and you're left wondering, "What now?"
If wishes were horses, I would have a Jaguar.
Sunday, October 24, 2004
Saturday, October 23, 2004
Happy Birthday Nadyn!
Nadyn was born today, 23rd October 2004! The next generation of GirlyGirls has begun!
Went to visit the radiant new mother, and the .. father. There is no adjective for MrNads, he is an adjective unto himself. lol. I mean it in a good waaaaay!!! :o)
I don't know how or where to even begin to describe how I felt, it was a wealth of emotions. I felt .. awe. Wonder. Joy, excitement .. and absolute, unadulterated fear. Amazement, total admiration for MrsNads and MrNads. Happiness. Envy for their happiness. But above all, true joy for their family. It was .. overwhelming. Needless to say, I hot-footed it out of there before the bawling started. Nasib baik a certain someone wasn't there, otherwise it would be the Great Flood all over again. :o) Sorry, for the teasing, luv.
Congratulations to the new parents. May your joy be everlasting and the blessings be in abundance. God Bless!
Sunday, October 17, 2004
A Terrible Pang of Nostalgia
For those who don't already know, I worked in a steel mill once. I know the word 'mill' tends to evoke images of grainary mills, or lesung batus, but no, this is a plant where scrap steel and iron ore were melted down at one end and steel bars came out at the other end.
It was hot, dirty, grimy, sweaty, long, hard hours of totally hands-on work. Work began the moment you stepped into the plant, and ended only when the job was completed. Sometimes that meant going home in a near zombie-like state at 10pm. I climbed up 60 foot catwalks, crawled into furnace crevices, wedged myself against walls to get closer to hydraulic cylinders, and frequently spent hours dissembling and overhauling air motors and pumps.
If I had a manicurist, she would have dropped dead of horror at the sight of my nails. Make-up was a luxury reserved for Fridays, the only day I had off, since technical staff work six full days a week. The six days I worked, I forewent Bobby Brown's Sheer Matte Pressed Powder in Sand for a heavy dusting of furnace/steel dust, which was oh-so strikingly set off by a generous rougeing of diesel oil and grease.
The potential dilemma of choosing something to wear each morning was totally non-existent. Six days a week, I wore baggy overalls and clunky steel-toe-capped safety boots. Second hand. Accesories were a safety helmet, face mask and workmen (or in this cawe, workwomen) gloves. Hair was another non-issue. Styling it was totally out of the question due to stay-factor. It always knotted into a servicable braid. My face and hands were perpetually streaked or covered in grease and/or black oil, as were my clothes. You can forget about trying to wash the grease out of your overalls, because baby, they're there to stay. At least until your overalls disintegrated.
However, seeing as how I was ONE female out of almost 500 men working in the plant (that place has an approximately 8:1 male:female ratio!), I refused to allow my feminity to be totally overwhelmed. The uniform and the safety gear was absolutely necessary, but I would almost defiantly put on the lipstick (budge-proof!) every morning, and painted my white safety hat with pretty flowers and butterflies. Erm .. the flowers and the butterflies were also a sort of insurance against helmet theft. I had lost three helmets prior to my last one. After the artwork, it never got nicked again ... ;o)
The work was tough. Dirty, grimy, sweaty and the long hours were sometimes overwhelming, not to mention demanding. Everyone expected you to give 110% all the time. If you had a job to do, you finished it. If you haven't, then you stay till you do.
By the way, did I mention I only worked for 10 weeks to fulfil my university's Industrial Training requirement? That's right. All that was expected from a trainee!
But I loved every moment of it. Every single sweaty moment, every single minute I worked. I loved it even when, as the lowly trainee, I was given the filthy task of emptying the tank of hydraulic oil and was drenched head-to-toe - with hydraulic oil! It took me two hours and 2 bottles of shampoo to get myself satisfactorily clean. I loved being in the furnace control room, 20 metres from the flaming, 1500oC furnace.
Perwaja Steel has received - and still is receiving! - a lot of bad rep. Management-wise, I say they deserve it. From a technical point of view, however, I don't believe I could find a better place than that to work in. Never before have I come across - or even heard of - a place with better work ethics than Perwaja. Almost everyone is just so responsible for themselves, that the place almost runs itself! If you had a job to do, then by Jove, you did it. Tea break ends at 3.30pm, and whoops! It's 3.25! Time to get back to work! I was fortunate enough to have the freedom of moving around the different departments as I pleased, which resulted in my getting to know my way around the Mechanical Services department pretty well, and at almost every sector I noticed that not only the managers, but even the lowest technicians themselves were self-responsible. I found the level of work-integrity astounding.
Truly, there is no way one can go to this plant, see the way it works and still come away with the perception that this efficient, productive plant is an ailing company unable to cover it's own expenses, not to mention not generate a profit. As with the last owners, it's a management issue. *Sigh* People will never learn.
But beyond everything else, I loved the people there the most. Yes, for their integrity, but also for their open-naturedness, the way they take you in and care for you as one of their own, the open camaraderie, most especially for the way that everyone there seems to be family. I can't drive in the streets 100 metres before I get honked at - not in ire, but in greeting.
I went there dreading the fact that I would have to survive 10 weeks not only in the farther reaches of civiliation (read: KL), but also that I would have to put up with kampung people. How wrong I was!
Chukai in Kemaman is a little town, only a 15-minute drive across including traffic light stops! Anonymity is only an option for those passing-through. Everyone knows everyone else. Even if they don't know you personally, they've definitely seen you at least 5 times before. It doesn't even get to 6 degrees-of-separation. If you know even just 2 locals, hey! You're most likely already connected to everyone else in town! Never more truly have I come across a more perfect place to put to the phrase, "Where Everybody Knows Your Name." Heck, they probably know even your grandmother's name!
Small-town folks are greatly under-rated, at least in Kemaman they are, anyway. Another thing which so endeared them to me was their sincerity. City folk are of a much harder, flinty nature. I loved the laid-backness of the people of Kemaman, their lack of subterfuge and snideness we city-folk possess. They are not so petty, and so very much more trusting. Imagine leaving your car idling out front while you go in to buy a pack of cigarettes and hey! Your friend is here, a little chat would be in good order. It had my city-bred-wariness clanging in high alarm the first time I came across it! Aiyo! Until I left, I never completely got over the nervousness.
It was only 10 weeks, yet this experience has been indelibly etched in my soul. A healthy place to work, a wonderful place to live. Perwaja is a bloody playground for engineers; every working engineer's wet dream! And Kemaman is a wholesome place to live. Also, it's not so the back-and-beyond as one might think. It's only a 30-minute scenic drive to Kuantan. Heck, it sometimes takes me longer than that to get to KLCC! Oh! And a fabulous plus point is that it's only a 10-minute drive to beautiful, beautiful Cherating! *glee!*
I learned so many lessons in those 10 short weeks: lessons in business, management, and in engineering. Lessons on how to live, and hard lessons of love. I made so many honest friends there, people who have remained real and true despite the separation of distance and time. Kemaman has forever staked it's claim in my heart. It was, without question, the best 10 weeks of my life.
It was hot, dirty, grimy, sweaty, long, hard hours of totally hands-on work. Work began the moment you stepped into the plant, and ended only when the job was completed. Sometimes that meant going home in a near zombie-like state at 10pm. I climbed up 60 foot catwalks, crawled into furnace crevices, wedged myself against walls to get closer to hydraulic cylinders, and frequently spent hours dissembling and overhauling air motors and pumps.
If I had a manicurist, she would have dropped dead of horror at the sight of my nails. Make-up was a luxury reserved for Fridays, the only day I had off, since technical staff work six full days a week. The six days I worked, I forewent Bobby Brown's Sheer Matte Pressed Powder in Sand for a heavy dusting of furnace/steel dust, which was oh-so strikingly set off by a generous rougeing of diesel oil and grease.
The potential dilemma of choosing something to wear each morning was totally non-existent. Six days a week, I wore baggy overalls and clunky steel-toe-capped safety boots. Second hand. Accesories were a safety helmet, face mask and workmen (or in this cawe, workwomen) gloves. Hair was another non-issue. Styling it was totally out of the question due to stay-factor. It always knotted into a servicable braid. My face and hands were perpetually streaked or covered in grease and/or black oil, as were my clothes. You can forget about trying to wash the grease out of your overalls, because baby, they're there to stay. At least until your overalls disintegrated.
However, seeing as how I was ONE female out of almost 500 men working in the plant (that place has an approximately 8:1 male:female ratio!), I refused to allow my feminity to be totally overwhelmed. The uniform and the safety gear was absolutely necessary, but I would almost defiantly put on the lipstick (budge-proof!) every morning, and painted my white safety hat with pretty flowers and butterflies. Erm .. the flowers and the butterflies were also a sort of insurance against helmet theft. I had lost three helmets prior to my last one. After the artwork, it never got nicked again ... ;o)
The work was tough. Dirty, grimy, sweaty and the long hours were sometimes overwhelming, not to mention demanding. Everyone expected you to give 110% all the time. If you had a job to do, you finished it. If you haven't, then you stay till you do.
By the way, did I mention I only worked for 10 weeks to fulfil my university's Industrial Training requirement? That's right. All that was expected from a trainee!
But I loved every moment of it. Every single sweaty moment, every single minute I worked. I loved it even when, as the lowly trainee, I was given the filthy task of emptying the tank of hydraulic oil and was drenched head-to-toe - with hydraulic oil! It took me two hours and 2 bottles of shampoo to get myself satisfactorily clean. I loved being in the furnace control room, 20 metres from the flaming, 1500oC furnace.
Perwaja Steel has received - and still is receiving! - a lot of bad rep. Management-wise, I say they deserve it. From a technical point of view, however, I don't believe I could find a better place than that to work in. Never before have I come across - or even heard of - a place with better work ethics than Perwaja. Almost everyone is just so responsible for themselves, that the place almost runs itself! If you had a job to do, then by Jove, you did it. Tea break ends at 3.30pm, and whoops! It's 3.25! Time to get back to work! I was fortunate enough to have the freedom of moving around the different departments as I pleased, which resulted in my getting to know my way around the Mechanical Services department pretty well, and at almost every sector I noticed that not only the managers, but even the lowest technicians themselves were self-responsible. I found the level of work-integrity astounding.
Truly, there is no way one can go to this plant, see the way it works and still come away with the perception that this efficient, productive plant is an ailing company unable to cover it's own expenses, not to mention not generate a profit. As with the last owners, it's a management issue. *Sigh* People will never learn.
But beyond everything else, I loved the people there the most. Yes, for their integrity, but also for their open-naturedness, the way they take you in and care for you as one of their own, the open camaraderie, most especially for the way that everyone there seems to be family. I can't drive in the streets 100 metres before I get honked at - not in ire, but in greeting.
I went there dreading the fact that I would have to survive 10 weeks not only in the farther reaches of civiliation (read: KL), but also that I would have to put up with kampung people. How wrong I was!
Chukai in Kemaman is a little town, only a 15-minute drive across including traffic light stops! Anonymity is only an option for those passing-through. Everyone knows everyone else. Even if they don't know you personally, they've definitely seen you at least 5 times before. It doesn't even get to 6 degrees-of-separation. If you know even just 2 locals, hey! You're most likely already connected to everyone else in town! Never more truly have I come across a more perfect place to put to the phrase, "Where Everybody Knows Your Name." Heck, they probably know even your grandmother's name!
Small-town folks are greatly under-rated, at least in Kemaman they are, anyway. Another thing which so endeared them to me was their sincerity. City folk are of a much harder, flinty nature. I loved the laid-backness of the people of Kemaman, their lack of subterfuge and snideness we city-folk possess. They are not so petty, and so very much more trusting. Imagine leaving your car idling out front while you go in to buy a pack of cigarettes and hey! Your friend is here, a little chat would be in good order. It had my city-bred-wariness clanging in high alarm the first time I came across it! Aiyo! Until I left, I never completely got over the nervousness.
It was only 10 weeks, yet this experience has been indelibly etched in my soul. A healthy place to work, a wonderful place to live. Perwaja is a bloody playground for engineers; every working engineer's wet dream! And Kemaman is a wholesome place to live. Also, it's not so the back-and-beyond as one might think. It's only a 30-minute scenic drive to Kuantan. Heck, it sometimes takes me longer than that to get to KLCC! Oh! And a fabulous plus point is that it's only a 10-minute drive to beautiful, beautiful Cherating! *glee!*
I learned so many lessons in those 10 short weeks: lessons in business, management, and in engineering. Lessons on how to live, and hard lessons of love. I made so many honest friends there, people who have remained real and true despite the separation of distance and time. Kemaman has forever staked it's claim in my heart. It was, without question, the best 10 weeks of my life.
Saturday, October 16, 2004
Extreme Randomness
Having to revert to dial-up connection really sucks after the wonders of broadband. *Sob!* The things you take for granted! Hopefully, this will not be permanent.
For some reason, I really miss walking around Singapore. Boycott Singapore!!!!!!! Seriously though, they've got an unbeatable public transport system. Lovely. Boycott Singapooooooore!!!!!!
Haha! This made me laugh so hard today. I hope it made you laugh too. *G*
Am currently going through a carrot cake addiction phase. With cream cheese icing. LOTS of it. Yum. As a result, went on a cake-baking frenzy. Am now stuck with carrot-cake muffins (with cream cheese icing!), a chocolate cake, an apple cake (with cream cheese icing!) and a loaf of pound cake and banana cake each.
Selamat menyambut Ramadhan, y'all!
p.s. Ann's brother is in the ICU with demam denggi berdarah. If you could spare a doa or two for his safe recovery, please? Thanks, all. God bless.
For some reason, I really miss walking around Singapore. Boycott Singapore!!!!!!! Seriously though, they've got an unbeatable public transport system. Lovely. Boycott Singapooooooore!!!!!!
Haha! This made me laugh so hard today. I hope it made you laugh too. *G*
Am currently going through a carrot cake addiction phase. With cream cheese icing. LOTS of it. Yum. As a result, went on a cake-baking frenzy. Am now stuck with carrot-cake muffins (with cream cheese icing!), a chocolate cake, an apple cake (with cream cheese icing!) and a loaf of pound cake and banana cake each.
Selamat menyambut Ramadhan, y'all!
p.s. Ann's brother is in the ICU with demam denggi berdarah. If you could spare a doa or two for his safe recovery, please? Thanks, all. God bless.
Friday, October 15, 2004
The Most Kesian Song Ever
My, my. Is this place depressing, or is it just me? Wait a minute, this place is me.
:o)
This is the most kesian song I've ever come across. It's got one of the cheeriest tunes I've ever heard, but the lyrics .. aiyo! Kesian! As soon as I hear the intro, I break out in a smile, no matter the mood I'm in. It's one of those songs you'll have to hear for yourself, I suppose. Enjoy!
~ This lighthearted moment was brought to you by Coke and Lindt ~ There IS such a thing as too much sugar! ~
She Hates Me
~Puddle of Mudd~
Met a girl, thought she was grand.
Fell in love, found out first hand.
Went well for a week or two,
Then it all came unglued.
In a trapped trip I can't grip,
Never thought I'd be the one who'd slip,
Then I started to realise
I was living one big lie
She fucking hates me.
Trust!
She fucking hates me.
la la la laaa!
I tried too hard
And she tore my feelings like I had none
And ripped them away!
She was Queen for about an hour,
After that shit got sour.
She took all I ever had
No sign of guilt,
No feeling of bad, no!
That's my story, as you see
Learned my lesson and so did she.
Now it's over and I'm glad
'Cause I'm a fool for all I've said
She fucking hates me.
Trust!
She fucking hates me.
la la la laaa!
I tried too hard
And she tore my feelings like I had none
She fucking hates me!
p.s:
Ins, will take you up on yoga offer, after I've:
1. bought yoga mat, which I can only afford after I've:
1.1. paid off my Maton 12-string acoustic guitar, which, insyaAllah, will be after the next paycheck. Yippie! Guitar baru! I can't wait to hold my baby in my arms ... *sigh*
:o)
This is the most kesian song I've ever come across. It's got one of the cheeriest tunes I've ever heard, but the lyrics .. aiyo! Kesian! As soon as I hear the intro, I break out in a smile, no matter the mood I'm in. It's one of those songs you'll have to hear for yourself, I suppose. Enjoy!
~ This lighthearted moment was brought to you by Coke and Lindt ~ There IS such a thing as too much sugar! ~
She Hates Me
~Puddle of Mudd~
Met a girl, thought she was grand.
Fell in love, found out first hand.
Went well for a week or two,
Then it all came unglued.
In a trapped trip I can't grip,
Never thought I'd be the one who'd slip,
Then I started to realise
I was living one big lie
She fucking hates me.
Trust!
She fucking hates me.
la la la laaa!
I tried too hard
And she tore my feelings like I had none
And ripped them away!
She was Queen for about an hour,
After that shit got sour.
She took all I ever had
No sign of guilt,
No feeling of bad, no!
That's my story, as you see
Learned my lesson and so did she.
Now it's over and I'm glad
'Cause I'm a fool for all I've said
She fucking hates me.
Trust!
She fucking hates me.
la la la laaa!
I tried too hard
And she tore my feelings like I had none
She fucking hates me!
p.s:
Ins, will take you up on yoga offer, after I've:
1. bought yoga mat, which I can only afford after I've:
1.1. paid off my Maton 12-string acoustic guitar, which, insyaAllah, will be after the next paycheck. Yippie! Guitar baru! I can't wait to hold my baby in my arms ... *sigh*
Tuesday, October 12, 2004
Love
Is there anything more irrational in this world? Politics, maybe, but it still doesn't beat love.
Love. People are willing to travel to the ends of the world to find it.
What for?
I've been in love. Just twice. The real thing, mind you, not some 2-month infatuation. I don't fall in love so easily. But believe you me, it hasn't done me any favours.
Nevertheless, I came across this today, and while I feel totally drained over the subject, for some reason, this has given me a little bittersweet faith that maybe love might one day turn out to be not so bad, after all:
Love. People are willing to travel to the ends of the world to find it.
What for?
I've been in love. Just twice. The real thing, mind you, not some 2-month infatuation. I don't fall in love so easily. But believe you me, it hasn't done me any favours.
Nevertheless, I came across this today, and while I feel totally drained over the subject, for some reason, this has given me a little bittersweet faith that maybe love might one day turn out to be not so bad, after all:
" You young kids out there. Fall in love. Fall in love.
All of us should have:
A first love
The first everything
The bad boy/older woman/younger men and women
A partner who breaks our heart
Someone you can never have
And someone who loves you for who you are, and will never betray you, will never cheat or lie to you. Someone who'll be there for the rest of your lives. "
~ "Do You Remember", The Gongkapas Times by Dina Zaman
Monday, October 11, 2004
To Him.
Fuck Him.
What makes men think that they're allowed to play games? They hate it when women play games, and then they do a 180 and, in turn, fuck with your mind.
Why is it that He is allowed to ask me the most difficult questions, and actually expects me to answer them .. and yet, avoids one I ask at all fucking costs?? Fuck You. I know they're difficult, but you think the things You ask me are so fucking trifling to me? Fuck You for thinking you're the only one entitled to fucking answers!!
Fuck all men who play games. No, screw that. I curse them all to an entire life of UnFuck. No fuck, of any form, of any magnitude what-so-ever for the rest of their fucking lives.
*Fumes* How is it that you can love a person so much, and yet hate him with every fibre of your being? I so fucking hate Him right now.
Fuck this. Love him or not, it's time to fight back. I've fucking had enough of being Little Miss Understanding, Little Miss Complacent, Little Miss This-Is-Fun-Fucking-With-Jas'-Mind. You owe me answers, and they're way past due.
I've truly got nothing to lose. I have nothing. I've always had nothing, from You. Now it's time to get something back for me. No more Little Miss Nice-Girl.
It's time to fuck back.
What makes men think that they're allowed to play games? They hate it when women play games, and then they do a 180 and, in turn, fuck with your mind.
Why is it that He is allowed to ask me the most difficult questions, and actually expects me to answer them .. and yet, avoids one I ask at all fucking costs?? Fuck You. I know they're difficult, but you think the things You ask me are so fucking trifling to me? Fuck You for thinking you're the only one entitled to fucking answers!!
Fuck all men who play games. No, screw that. I curse them all to an entire life of UnFuck. No fuck, of any form, of any magnitude what-so-ever for the rest of their fucking lives.
*Fumes* How is it that you can love a person so much, and yet hate him with every fibre of your being? I so fucking hate Him right now.
Fuck this. Love him or not, it's time to fight back. I've fucking had enough of being Little Miss Understanding, Little Miss Complacent, Little Miss This-Is-Fun-Fucking-With-Jas'-Mind. You owe me answers, and they're way past due.
I've truly got nothing to lose. I have nothing. I've always had nothing, from You. Now it's time to get something back for me. No more Little Miss Nice-Girl.
It's time to fuck back.
Sunday, October 10, 2004
The Scent of Lilies
My room smells heavenly. The bouquet of Madonna lilies I got from my mum for my convocation ceremony this morning is now sitting in a vase, permeating my room with its delicious scent.
Nothing beats the delicate fragrance of fresh flowers, Ambipur be damned. My favourites are lilies, jasmines, roses .. and the prostitute flower. Hehe.
I'm not sure, though, if flowers are the best smelling things on earth. I mean, chocolates smell pretty wonderful too. Famous Amos. Yum. And RotiBoy. *Groan* Not much else beats the smell of RotiBoy. When the doors to the Putra LRT open at the KLCC stop, the wonderful aroma of Rotiboy is the first thing to hits your senses. Yes, it's that kau. I love buying the buns home. My car smells so yummy! Why can't they make RotiBoy car perfumes? The floral ones make me so loya. Give me a RotiBoy air-freshner and I'll ferry everyone to work every day.
lolz. We'll take it easy today, folks. It's been a wonderfully light-hearted day for me, something I've been needing badly of late. Today has been a lovely day. I hope you all have one tomorrow. God Bless.
Nothing beats the delicate fragrance of fresh flowers, Ambipur be damned. My favourites are lilies, jasmines, roses .. and the prostitute flower. Hehe.
I'm not sure, though, if flowers are the best smelling things on earth. I mean, chocolates smell pretty wonderful too. Famous Amos. Yum. And RotiBoy. *Groan* Not much else beats the smell of RotiBoy. When the doors to the Putra LRT open at the KLCC stop, the wonderful aroma of Rotiboy is the first thing to hits your senses. Yes, it's that kau. I love buying the buns home. My car smells so yummy! Why can't they make RotiBoy car perfumes? The floral ones make me so loya. Give me a RotiBoy air-freshner and I'll ferry everyone to work every day.
lolz. We'll take it easy today, folks. It's been a wonderfully light-hearted day for me, something I've been needing badly of late. Today has been a lovely day. I hope you all have one tomorrow. God Bless.
Friday, October 08, 2004
To Cut A Long Story Short
Okay, so I had the whole rest of the 'chronicles' all written down and pre-saved, but after posting the first two, I thought, "Who the hell is really interested in this rambling?" The thought which immediately followed was, "Nobody." Yes. So I shall spare you all and just skip to the bare essentials.
Went to Medina. Just as beautiful as I remembered. Felt like I had come 'home'.
Left Medina, went to Mekah. 5-hour bus ride again. Stopped in pretty courtyard-like mosque in Mina. Arrived in Mekah close to 10pm. Performed umrah, stayed back at mosque while everyone went back for sleep for a bit more ibadat-ing, ended up staying till Subuh coz too tired to walk back to hotel.
Day after, went to Padang Arafat. Rode camel with sister. Better than 6 Flags. Took lots of pics, got chased and cursed at by crazy swindlers with Polaroid cameras. Psychos. Went to Jamratul Aqabah and made jokes about the three 'setan's. On bus ride back, worried about later kena sambar petir. Fortunately, did not happen. Made more jokes. No, will never learn.
Stayed 6 days. One-and-a-half hour bus ride to Jeddah with bus-driver-from-hell. Amazed by the fact that although there seemed to be very little regard for traffic rules in Saudi, did not see even the teeeeeeeeniest accident. Mujarab Tanah Suci, kot. Six-hour wait in Jeddah airport, two-and-a-half hours flight to Dubai, one hour transit in Dubai, five-hour flight to KL: arrival 5pm, local time. We were finally home. Exhausted, but so glad to be home.
Highlights: Though I absolutely love the city of Medina and the city of Mekah not at all, being in the Masjid Al-Haram in Mekah was like a homecoming, of sorts. Although I said that being in Medina was like coming 'home', it's more like Al-Haram is 'home', and Al-Nabawi is my 'room'. This isn't mini-blasphemy, is it? It's just more personal in Medina. Nevertheless, the minute I laid eyes on the Ka'abah, I felt like I was someone who had travelled the world, and finally returned.
To say I merely dislike the city of Mekah would be severely understating it. I almost despise it. The people are so rude, the climate so unforgiving, the city itself almost totally bereft of any beauty. It is truly a harsh land with harsh people. In my opinion anyways.
Medina is its total opposite. Yes, I know that geographically they are practically the same, yet, the climate in Medina is by far more comfortable. Yes, it still is a desert, just like Mekah is, but while the desert of Mekah seems almost cruel, the deserts of Medina have an inexplicable beauty in their barrenness. The people are by far more refined, polite, more genteel. There is no competition. Medina will always come out tops with me.
I have been told that not everyone feels this way, not everyone finds Mekah so unfavourable. Apparently there is a reason I love Medina more: evidently, I am a person who berjiwa lembut. *Snort* But, seriously, it is apparently for the very same reasons the Prophet Muhammad s.a.w. chose to make Medina his home. Or so I have been told.
Despite despising Mekah, however, there is a peace to be found in the Masjid Al-Haram which I don't believe can be matched anywhere else in the world. It's like being in a loving embrace. All your troubles simply fade away. I should know. I have them in more than plenty. It's not saying my troubles simply vanished. No, the issues are still there, only sans the anxiety. The problems don't go away, they simply become unimportant for a while. A sort of meditation, only you don't have to go into a trance, or chant, or zikir, or pray to achieve it. It simply .. happens.
It was like coming home. It was laying your head on your mother's lap, weeping as your heart bleeds while she strokes your hair. It was, in a rare moment, being completely honest with yourself. It was a moment where you no longer had to pretend you are trying to be strong. It was a moment where you laid open your soul, leaving yourself completely vulnerable, and finding strength within that. It is the one place you have left to turn to, to be completely honest and receive no censure.
It was a moment where you recognized the divine, and acknowledge its undeniable presence. It was a moment where you realised what 'divine' truly means, that it is no single entity, and that not 'one' person, or 'one' religion, or 'one' civilisation can lay any claim to it. It is free for whoever who chooses to believe it, and whomever who does choose to believe it, it opens the mind to a whole new realm of endless possibilities.
It was a moment where all my faiths were reaffirmed. There is a God, and that God is good and kind. We make our own suffering and we create suffering for others, no help necessary from Lucifer & Co.
This is turning 'preacher'-ish. Must apologize. I am not trying to pass any of this off as truths, they're just some truths for me. It's the sentimental part of me showing through.
Towards the end of the trip, I was almost pining to come home to KL. As they say, your visiting Mekah is an 'invitation' from God to visit His home, and I guess our invitation was up. On the last day, I could barely stand spending another day in Mekah. Being in Jeddah, despite the six-hour wait was a relief. It was like that the first time I went too. Despite that though, as we made our farewells to the Ka'abah, I wept bitter tears at the possibility I would not have the opportunity to come again. I can't wait for the next time I'll be able to go.
Went to Medina. Just as beautiful as I remembered. Felt like I had come 'home'.
Left Medina, went to Mekah. 5-hour bus ride again. Stopped in pretty courtyard-like mosque in Mina. Arrived in Mekah close to 10pm. Performed umrah, stayed back at mosque while everyone went back for sleep for a bit more ibadat-ing, ended up staying till Subuh coz too tired to walk back to hotel.
Day after, went to Padang Arafat. Rode camel with sister. Better than 6 Flags. Took lots of pics, got chased and cursed at by crazy swindlers with Polaroid cameras. Psychos. Went to Jamratul Aqabah and made jokes about the three 'setan's. On bus ride back, worried about later kena sambar petir. Fortunately, did not happen. Made more jokes. No, will never learn.
Stayed 6 days. One-and-a-half hour bus ride to Jeddah with bus-driver-from-hell. Amazed by the fact that although there seemed to be very little regard for traffic rules in Saudi, did not see even the teeeeeeeeniest accident. Mujarab Tanah Suci, kot. Six-hour wait in Jeddah airport, two-and-a-half hours flight to Dubai, one hour transit in Dubai, five-hour flight to KL: arrival 5pm, local time. We were finally home. Exhausted, but so glad to be home.
Highlights: Though I absolutely love the city of Medina and the city of Mekah not at all, being in the Masjid Al-Haram in Mekah was like a homecoming, of sorts. Although I said that being in Medina was like coming 'home', it's more like Al-Haram is 'home', and Al-Nabawi is my 'room'. This isn't mini-blasphemy, is it? It's just more personal in Medina. Nevertheless, the minute I laid eyes on the Ka'abah, I felt like I was someone who had travelled the world, and finally returned.
To say I merely dislike the city of Mekah would be severely understating it. I almost despise it. The people are so rude, the climate so unforgiving, the city itself almost totally bereft of any beauty. It is truly a harsh land with harsh people. In my opinion anyways.
Medina is its total opposite. Yes, I know that geographically they are practically the same, yet, the climate in Medina is by far more comfortable. Yes, it still is a desert, just like Mekah is, but while the desert of Mekah seems almost cruel, the deserts of Medina have an inexplicable beauty in their barrenness. The people are by far more refined, polite, more genteel. There is no competition. Medina will always come out tops with me.
I have been told that not everyone feels this way, not everyone finds Mekah so unfavourable. Apparently there is a reason I love Medina more: evidently, I am a person who berjiwa lembut. *Snort* But, seriously, it is apparently for the very same reasons the Prophet Muhammad s.a.w. chose to make Medina his home. Or so I have been told.
Despite despising Mekah, however, there is a peace to be found in the Masjid Al-Haram which I don't believe can be matched anywhere else in the world. It's like being in a loving embrace. All your troubles simply fade away. I should know. I have them in more than plenty. It's not saying my troubles simply vanished. No, the issues are still there, only sans the anxiety. The problems don't go away, they simply become unimportant for a while. A sort of meditation, only you don't have to go into a trance, or chant, or zikir, or pray to achieve it. It simply .. happens.
It was like coming home. It was laying your head on your mother's lap, weeping as your heart bleeds while she strokes your hair. It was, in a rare moment, being completely honest with yourself. It was a moment where you no longer had to pretend you are trying to be strong. It was a moment where you laid open your soul, leaving yourself completely vulnerable, and finding strength within that. It is the one place you have left to turn to, to be completely honest and receive no censure.
It was a moment where you recognized the divine, and acknowledge its undeniable presence. It was a moment where you realised what 'divine' truly means, that it is no single entity, and that not 'one' person, or 'one' religion, or 'one' civilisation can lay any claim to it. It is free for whoever who chooses to believe it, and whomever who does choose to believe it, it opens the mind to a whole new realm of endless possibilities.
It was a moment where all my faiths were reaffirmed. There is a God, and that God is good and kind. We make our own suffering and we create suffering for others, no help necessary from Lucifer & Co.
This is turning 'preacher'-ish. Must apologize. I am not trying to pass any of this off as truths, they're just some truths for me. It's the sentimental part of me showing through.
Towards the end of the trip, I was almost pining to come home to KL. As they say, your visiting Mekah is an 'invitation' from God to visit His home, and I guess our invitation was up. On the last day, I could barely stand spending another day in Mekah. Being in Jeddah, despite the six-hour wait was a relief. It was like that the first time I went too. Despite that though, as we made our farewells to the Ka'abah, I wept bitter tears at the possibility I would not have the opportunity to come again. I can't wait for the next time I'll be able to go.
Wednesday, October 06, 2004
Chapter 2 - A Opossum Goes to Medina!
We arrived at the Jeddah International Airport 8pm-ish. We left the airport 10pm-ish. That's right. 2 bloody hours of waiting in line for immigration checks. And it wasn't even the busy season. Gah!!
The Jeddah International Airport .. eh. For a country which receives several millions of visitors each year, they could do with resurfacing the asphalt, painting the walls, expanding a wing or two .. heck, scrap that! They should raze that place to the ground and start over! Seriously, it's not like they lack the funds to do it!
Alright, it's not too bad, actually. The air conditioning is fantastic! Most important, that. Hehe. Otherwise, think along the lines of Terminal 3, Subang Airport. Not even as big as that. At least T3 had a second floor. The JIA has just some 8 arrival gates and 10? 12? departure gates. Of course, the gates I saw were numbered in the 50s and 60s, so they may have more gates that I didn't see. Or maybe they just numbered them that way to create the illusion of a larger airport. Hehe. Mentang-mentanglah dia ada the ultra-modern KLIA, pandai pulak komen pasal airport orang. ;o)
Anyway, what followed was a bumpy, 5-hour bus ride to Medina. If you could call it a bus, that is. It was a cross between a van and a mini-bus. I think it seated 20 max. Seeing as how we were a party of only 13 though, it was comfortably spacious. The bus driver however, *shudder*. He must have driven straight out of hell, gotten lost and decided to stay here on Earth to terrorise us hapless, helpless pilgrims. I believe it was God's ploy to make us appreciate the small things we take for granted - the tame Malaysian drivers, road courtesy, traffic lights, oh! not forgetting to mention our lives.
Fortunately, the medication I took to supress my air-sickness hadn't yet worn off. My GP assured me it was not a sleeping pill, although it does have that effect on me. Therefore, I slept for the bulk of the journey. In my in-between moments of wakefulness, however, I discovered something I didn't remember from my first trip there - local radio stations air mengaji tracks in lieu of Justin Timberlake and co. But what amused me the most was that our driver was singing along to it! lolz. Beribadat sebelum mati ke? What with the way he was driving and all. Needless to say, there weren't many moments of wakefulness. Whenever I saw him swerve into the next lane, missing the other car by inches, I'd quickly shut my eyes and go back to sleep. I figured that if I had to go, I'd like to go as painlessly as possible. Amazingly, though, we arrived in Medina in one piece. Whadda ya know? Miracles DO happen in the Holy Lands!
It was close to 3am by the time we settled into out 4-star accomodation. Do not let this misguide you into believing we were given plush quarters. You know how the 'star'-rating is NOT the same worldwide? How almost each country has it's own definition of each 'star'? Yes, apparently, in Mekah and Medina, it goes like this: one star each for: beds and attached bathroom, air-cond, proximity to the mosques (if it's right across the street, that's TWO stars!!), dining facilities, ELEVATOR, etc. Yes, ladies and gents. Nevermind that the furniture looks like it could have been used by Khalifah Ali himself, and that you had to wait 2 minutes for the elevator DOOR to CLOSE, we stayed in a 4-star hotel! *G*
Also somewhat unfortunate was the fact that we arrived at 3am when Subuh prayers was at 4am. Groan. No time to sleep. ALSO, we only had 2 days in Medina, which also translated into no time to sleep if we wanted to take in the sights and go ziarah-ing. I barely got any sleep since I arrived in Dubai, but I figured that I could catch up on it once we finally get to Mekah. Our travelling had been (and would still be!) at a hectic pace until then.
Our hotel was just a short walk down the street from the women's entrance. Just for that, I didn't care what my room looked like. The convenience beat it all to inconsequence. Right after we dumped the bags in the room, we immediately left for the masjid.
I walked with eager steps. After four long years, I could hardly believe I was finally here again! Scepticism always meets this thought, that once you've been to the Holy Lands, you'll always want to return. Sceptics can believe what they like. It's true. It seems like I had only been there a few weeks ago, yet it had been too long. And now that I was finally back in this city I love so much, sleep can wait! I want to see my Medina!
~ to be continued ~
~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~
p.s: Wonderful plans for today and tomorrow have gone belly-up. I feel like a yo-yo. Why do I let things get to me?
The Jeddah International Airport .. eh. For a country which receives several millions of visitors each year, they could do with resurfacing the asphalt, painting the walls, expanding a wing or two .. heck, scrap that! They should raze that place to the ground and start over! Seriously, it's not like they lack the funds to do it!
Alright, it's not too bad, actually. The air conditioning is fantastic! Most important, that. Hehe. Otherwise, think along the lines of Terminal 3, Subang Airport. Not even as big as that. At least T3 had a second floor. The JIA has just some 8 arrival gates and 10? 12? departure gates. Of course, the gates I saw were numbered in the 50s and 60s, so they may have more gates that I didn't see. Or maybe they just numbered them that way to create the illusion of a larger airport. Hehe. Mentang-mentanglah dia ada the ultra-modern KLIA, pandai pulak komen pasal airport orang. ;o)
Anyway, what followed was a bumpy, 5-hour bus ride to Medina. If you could call it a bus, that is. It was a cross between a van and a mini-bus. I think it seated 20 max. Seeing as how we were a party of only 13 though, it was comfortably spacious. The bus driver however, *shudder*. He must have driven straight out of hell, gotten lost and decided to stay here on Earth to terrorise us hapless, helpless pilgrims. I believe it was God's ploy to make us appreciate the small things we take for granted - the tame Malaysian drivers, road courtesy, traffic lights, oh! not forgetting to mention our lives.
Fortunately, the medication I took to supress my air-sickness hadn't yet worn off. My GP assured me it was not a sleeping pill, although it does have that effect on me. Therefore, I slept for the bulk of the journey. In my in-between moments of wakefulness, however, I discovered something I didn't remember from my first trip there - local radio stations air mengaji tracks in lieu of Justin Timberlake and co. But what amused me the most was that our driver was singing along to it! lolz. Beribadat sebelum mati ke? What with the way he was driving and all. Needless to say, there weren't many moments of wakefulness. Whenever I saw him swerve into the next lane, missing the other car by inches, I'd quickly shut my eyes and go back to sleep. I figured that if I had to go, I'd like to go as painlessly as possible. Amazingly, though, we arrived in Medina in one piece. Whadda ya know? Miracles DO happen in the Holy Lands!
It was close to 3am by the time we settled into out 4-star accomodation. Do not let this misguide you into believing we were given plush quarters. You know how the 'star'-rating is NOT the same worldwide? How almost each country has it's own definition of each 'star'? Yes, apparently, in Mekah and Medina, it goes like this: one star each for: beds and attached bathroom, air-cond, proximity to the mosques (if it's right across the street, that's TWO stars!!), dining facilities, ELEVATOR, etc. Yes, ladies and gents. Nevermind that the furniture looks like it could have been used by Khalifah Ali himself, and that you had to wait 2 minutes for the elevator DOOR to CLOSE, we stayed in a 4-star hotel! *G*
Also somewhat unfortunate was the fact that we arrived at 3am when Subuh prayers was at 4am. Groan. No time to sleep. ALSO, we only had 2 days in Medina, which also translated into no time to sleep if we wanted to take in the sights and go ziarah-ing. I barely got any sleep since I arrived in Dubai, but I figured that I could catch up on it once we finally get to Mekah. Our travelling had been (and would still be!) at a hectic pace until then.
Our hotel was just a short walk down the street from the women's entrance. Just for that, I didn't care what my room looked like. The convenience beat it all to inconsequence. Right after we dumped the bags in the room, we immediately left for the masjid.
I walked with eager steps. After four long years, I could hardly believe I was finally here again! Scepticism always meets this thought, that once you've been to the Holy Lands, you'll always want to return. Sceptics can believe what they like. It's true. It seems like I had only been there a few weeks ago, yet it had been too long. And now that I was finally back in this city I love so much, sleep can wait! I want to see my Medina!
~ to be continued ~
~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~
p.s: Wonderful plans for today and tomorrow have gone belly-up. I feel like a yo-yo. Why do I let things get to me?
Tuesday, October 05, 2004
The Adventures of Jas the Opossum - Part 1
The roses are blooooming! The rabbits are fluffy, the sun is shining, and the grass is cloud-soft! Am currently in the best of moods! *G*
How is it that some things are able to inspire you to such mood-extremes? But so long as it's a good extreme, then what right have I to complain? And depending on certain factors, I'll probably remain in this blissful state of near-euphoria for the next three days, at least. *G*
Right. I know I said I would write some days ago, but the computer crashed (again!) and brilliant us (me and siblings) forgot (again!) to back-up our more recent files. *grumbles* So because I was in a merajuk mood, although I have a laptop, I was boycotting all computer-leisure related activities. Hah! Irrational, I concede, but if the pissed-off-ness has degraded so much that you've gone into merajuk mood, it's obvious that you've given up all claim to rationality. N'cest pas?
My birthday passed without .. incident. Thank God. My (non-immediate) family can be somewhat demented. Thanks for all the birthday wishes!
Thanks also for all the well wishes regarding the umrah and return! And now, for all of you who have been asking for "The Adventures of Jas the Opossum and Friends - Jas Goes To Mekah!", here it is! Only it'll have to be in installments because Jas the Opossum is crap at summarizing, and in case you hadn't noticed, is superlatively verbose. Nyeh eh eh.
p.s: Nads, I saw the word 'mayn't' used in literature recently: in Henry James' "The Golden Bowl"! So there you go! *G*
~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~
Chapter 1 - Jas in Dubai!
Our journey began at KLIA. Duh. Fast forward 6 hours and we found ourselves at the Dubai International Airport. I, the snobby Malaysian-with-the-KLIA I am, expected a not-even-Subang Airport-type facility. Boy was I wrong! It totally slipped Jas' mind that Dubai is the Middle Eastern playground for the ultra-rich. What we were met with instead was a KLIA-standard facility, only maybe 1/3 in size.
[mini rant]
Y'know, when they take away the 'duty' to give us 'duty-free' shopping, then hike the prices up sky-high on account of it being at an airport, 'duty-free' shopping becomes a load of baloney! *Huff* Then again, what would I do with an ashtray carved to resemble a semi-nude nymph?
[rant over]
As we flew Emirates, we were in transit in Dubai (that's doo-BAY, not doo-BUY, evidently) for 16 hours. Yeesh. Plus to that the fact that we arrived at 1am-ish, they gave us accomodations at the airport hotel.
How often does a girl find herself in Dubai, baby?!! (Shuddup all you jet-setting rich people! lolz.) Not one to pass up an opportunity, I roused everyone at 8am to go sight-seeing! It didn't help in making me Little Miss Popular, but I wanted to see Dubai!!!
I should have just slept in. Beach-malls-beach-malls-beach-beach-beach-malls. Very LA ... or Penang. Seeing how it was also a Friday (which is their weekend), most of the malls were closed. Sigh. And add to that the fact that we were all covered up (due to being on 'umrah'), watching everyone prance around in bikinis and Speedos in the hot, hot sun, well.
The only semi-highlight to the 'tour' was seeing the very-hyped-about, most expensive and only seven-star hotel in the world, the Burj Al-Arab in the flesh. Err .. in the concrete-and-steel. Glass-and-canvas. Whatever. And I say "semi-highlight" because we couldn't actually go into the hotel to have a look-see. While we were riding in the taxi, I joked that the hotel is so exclusive that we would probably have to pay to breathe the air. Mulut masin! It costs 200 dirhams just to walk over their foyer for non-guests!! That translates into RM200, approximately. Yikes! Oh! But you get a free drink! (What? Liquefied gold?!?!!)
We headed back to the airport to catch our connecting flight at 2pm. Spent a leisurely time browsing through 'duty-free' items (cekik darah!!), sipping Turkish coffee. Yum. I can't find Turkish coffee anywhere in Malaysia! Forgot to buy some back. :o(
One question: why are there so many Bangladeshis in Dubai?? The airport was absolutely teeming with Bangladeshi arriving and departing. Even more weirdly, they were buying 'duty-free' foodstuff by the trolley-loads and stuffing it into their luggages. Absolutely boggling. On our 5pm flight to Jeddah, easily 60% of the passengers were Bangladeshis. The fragrance! The aromas! The choking bouquet! *Aheks* Cubaan! Thank God it was only a 2 hour flight ......
~ to be continued ~
How is it that some things are able to inspire you to such mood-extremes? But so long as it's a good extreme, then what right have I to complain? And depending on certain factors, I'll probably remain in this blissful state of near-euphoria for the next three days, at least. *G*
Right. I know I said I would write some days ago, but the computer crashed (again!) and brilliant us (me and siblings) forgot (again!) to back-up our more recent files. *grumbles* So because I was in a merajuk mood, although I have a laptop, I was boycotting all computer-leisure related activities. Hah! Irrational, I concede, but if the pissed-off-ness has degraded so much that you've gone into merajuk mood, it's obvious that you've given up all claim to rationality. N'cest pas?
My birthday passed without .. incident. Thank God. My (non-immediate) family can be somewhat demented. Thanks for all the birthday wishes!
Thanks also for all the well wishes regarding the umrah and return! And now, for all of you who have been asking for "The Adventures of Jas the Opossum and Friends - Jas Goes To Mekah!", here it is! Only it'll have to be in installments because Jas the Opossum is crap at summarizing, and in case you hadn't noticed, is superlatively verbose. Nyeh eh eh.
p.s: Nads, I saw the word 'mayn't' used in literature recently: in Henry James' "The Golden Bowl"! So there you go! *G*
~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~
Chapter 1 - Jas in Dubai!
Our journey began at KLIA. Duh. Fast forward 6 hours and we found ourselves at the Dubai International Airport. I, the snobby Malaysian-with-the-KLIA I am, expected a not-even-Subang Airport-type facility. Boy was I wrong! It totally slipped Jas' mind that Dubai is the Middle Eastern playground for the ultra-rich. What we were met with instead was a KLIA-standard facility, only maybe 1/3 in size.
[mini rant]
Y'know, when they take away the 'duty' to give us 'duty-free' shopping, then hike the prices up sky-high on account of it being at an airport, 'duty-free' shopping becomes a load of baloney! *Huff* Then again, what would I do with an ashtray carved to resemble a semi-nude nymph?
[rant over]
As we flew Emirates, we were in transit in Dubai (that's doo-BAY, not doo-BUY, evidently) for 16 hours. Yeesh. Plus to that the fact that we arrived at 1am-ish, they gave us accomodations at the airport hotel.
How often does a girl find herself in Dubai, baby?!! (Shuddup all you jet-setting rich people! lolz.) Not one to pass up an opportunity, I roused everyone at 8am to go sight-seeing! It didn't help in making me Little Miss Popular, but I wanted to see Dubai!!!
I should have just slept in. Beach-malls-beach-malls-beach-beach-beach-malls. Very LA ... or Penang. Seeing how it was also a Friday (which is their weekend), most of the malls were closed. Sigh. And add to that the fact that we were all covered up (due to being on 'umrah'), watching everyone prance around in bikinis and Speedos in the hot, hot sun, well.
The only semi-highlight to the 'tour' was seeing the very-hyped-about, most expensive and only seven-star hotel in the world, the Burj Al-Arab in the flesh. Err .. in the concrete-and-steel. Glass-and-canvas. Whatever. And I say "semi-highlight" because we couldn't actually go into the hotel to have a look-see. While we were riding in the taxi, I joked that the hotel is so exclusive that we would probably have to pay to breathe the air. Mulut masin! It costs 200 dirhams just to walk over their foyer for non-guests!! That translates into RM200, approximately. Yikes! Oh! But you get a free drink! (What? Liquefied gold?!?!!)
We headed back to the airport to catch our connecting flight at 2pm. Spent a leisurely time browsing through 'duty-free' items (cekik darah!!), sipping Turkish coffee. Yum. I can't find Turkish coffee anywhere in Malaysia! Forgot to buy some back. :o(
One question: why are there so many Bangladeshis in Dubai?? The airport was absolutely teeming with Bangladeshi arriving and departing. Even more weirdly, they were buying 'duty-free' foodstuff by the trolley-loads and stuffing it into their luggages. Absolutely boggling. On our 5pm flight to Jeddah, easily 60% of the passengers were Bangladeshis. The fragrance! The aromas! The choking bouquet! *Aheks* Cubaan! Thank God it was only a 2 hour flight ......
~ to be continued ~
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)