Archive for the ‘EVERYTHING IS A REASON’ Category

MELATAH- an untranslatable Malay word   Leave a comment

… just like the word AMOK.

Malays are very good people with very unique, distinct features in politics, culture, and traditions- and there is no other race and no other tribes, comparable to the Malays. I’m proud to be a Malay.

Malays are also famous of some emotional matters. Let’s read this poem. (It is in Malay. Translate it here http://translate.google.com.my)

MELAYU

Melayu itu orang yang bijaksana
Nakalnya bersulam jenaka
Budi bahasanya tidak terkira
Kurang ajarnya tetap santun
Jika menipu pun masih bersopan
Bila mengampu bijak beralas tangan.

Melayu itu berani jika bersalah
Kecut takut kerana benar,
Janji simpan di perut
Selalu pecah di mulut,
Biar mati adat
Jangan mati anak.

Melayu di tanah Semenanjung luas maknanya:
Jawa itu Melayu, Bugis itu Melayu
Banjar juga disebut Melayu, Minangkabau
memang Melayu,
Keturunan Acheh adalah Melayu,
Jakun dan Sakai asli Melayu,
Arab dan Pakistani, semua Melayu
Mamak dan Malbari serap ke Melayu
Malah mua’alaf bertakrif Melayu
(Setelah disunat anunya itu)

Dalam sejarahnya
Melayu itu pengembara lautan
Melorongkan jalur sejarah zaman
Begitu luas daerah sempadan
Sayangnya kini segala kehilangan

Melayu itu kaya falsafahnya
Kias kata bidal pusaka
Akar budi bersulamkan daya
Gedung akal laut bicara

Malangnya Melayu itu kuat bersorak
Terlalu ghairah pesta temasya
Sedangkan kampung telah tergadai
Sawah sejalur tinggal sejengkal
tanah sebidang mudah terjual

Meski telah memiliki telaga
Tangan masih memegang tali
Sedang orang mencapai timba.
Berbuahlah pisang tiga kali
Melayu itu masih bermimpi

Walaupun sudah mengenal universiti
Masih berdagang di rumah sendiri.
Berkelahi cara Melayu
Menikam dengan pantun
Menyanggah dengan senyum
Marahnya dengan diam
Merendah bukan menyembah
Meninggi bukan melonjak.

Watak Melayu menolak permusuhan
Setia dan sabar tiada sempadan
Tapi jika marah tak nampak telinga
Musuh dicari ke lubang cacing
Tak dapat tanduk telinga dijinjing
Maruah dan agama dihina jangan
Hebat amuknya tak kenal lawan

Berdamai cara Melayu indah sekali
Silaturrahim hati yang murni
Maaf diungkap senantiasa bersahut
Tangan diulur sentiasa bersambut
Luka pun tidak lagi berparut

Baiknya hati Melayu itu tak terbandingkan
Selagi yang ada sanggup diberikan
Sehingga tercipta sebuah kiasan:
“Dagang lalu nasi ditanakkan
Suami pulang lapar tak makan
Kera di hutan disusu-susukan
Anak di pangkuan mati kebuluran”

Bagaimanakah Melayu abad dua puluh satu
Masihkan tunduk tersipu-sipu?
Jangan takut melanggar pantang
Jika pantang menghalang kemajuan;
Jangan segan menentang larangan
Jika yakin kepada kebenaran;
Jangan malu mengucapkan keyakinan
Jika percaya kepada keadilan.

Jadilah bangsa yang bijaksana
Memegang tali memegang timba
Memiliki ekonomi mencipta budaya
Menjadi tuan di negara Merdeka

~ Usman Awang

AMOK and MELATAH are two Malay words, and both are untranslatable.

In the Oxford Dictionary,

amok /@”mQk/ (also amuck)
· adv. (in phr. run amok) behave uncontrollably and disruptively.
– ORIGIN C17: via Port. amouco, from Malay amok ‘rushing in a frenzy’.

In the Merriam-Webster Dictionary,

latah \ˈlät-ə\

noun: a neurotic condition marked by automatic obedience, echolalia, and echopraxia observed especially among the Malayan people.

Let’s talk about our topic, melatah.

Latah is a cultural-bound syndrome among Malays, Eskimos, some Indians. But recently, I discovered that some Sarawakian rural ethnics are also melatah. 

Why? Melatah is very contagious, very infectious. Whoever made a person melatah, he/she is prone to have the same syndrome of the victim. The good news is, not all Malays are melatah, and to make someone not melatah to melatah, takes some time.

I am one of them. 😛

Still wondering what is melatah? Here’s a video for you.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P5YKGyx5Evc

Notice what they say? “Oh pokok!” “Opocot!” “Oh mak kau!” “Alamak kau jatuh, eeeeeh…!”

That’s the words of melatah. The sudden increase in volume of sound, the sudden saying of any words, sudden insults are then, are some actions of melatah.

Here’s another video:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RZCcePjc7Ng

Yes, melatah is contagious. Just like AIDS, fast-spreading but the effect takes time.

Even men do melatah. No medicine is found for melatah yet!

Melatah is in fact a reflex action. Everyone around a person who melatah, beware. Besides the fun, there is danger waiting.

I’ve found an old women with an impressive melatah. She is my late grandma’s friend. Our family, indeed, most of them are melatah. No matter which gender they are from,  yes, melatah is a very contagious syndrome, it will infect everyone.

I’m not insulting anyone but seriously, it is quite fun to make someone melatah, as well, being melatah.

In academia, melatah is still in study, and the status whether it is a syndrome or a mental disease or a mental problem or whatever, is still unknown and melatah is in research right now. The researchers are mainly Malays, which is the origin of melatah itself! There is a film made by Universiti Teknologi MARA (UiTM) students, called “Melatah the Documentary”, and surprisingly, the film won several awards!

In conclusion, melatah is an interesting action, and it is irresistible. Now, shock your friends, and in a little second, “Opocot, mak kau!”

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Posted February 6, 2012 by princerighty1 in EVERYTHING IS A REASON

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One year after…   Leave a comment

28 June 2010, 12.45pm

Dear Fatin…
I remembered the moment I reveal my biggest secret, and I also remembered the moment you do the same. The 1-hour call changed me a lot. I just can’t forget how I feel that moment.
I was attending a camp. Everything was OK, but one.
I hope you understand how do I feel and how I suffer from my own mistake, and most of all, you understand why do I feel so ashamed of myself.
It starts when I fell in love with you. The day I left Jugra is the first day I have to live without seeing your face. Remember what I wrote in EVERYTHING IS A REASON? I waited you at 3 o’clock and you didn’t come. Zu replaced you, and giving me a bag of gift inside. I was surprised, you gave me Cheezels. I love Cheezels.
I was so confident that I can get straight A’s. Sadly, I wasn’t. We both apply the scholarship for overseas study. You got it, and I’m not. I was mourning and you were happy. My mum was trying not to remember and my dad made me mad all the times, opposing me, until now.
During the days, I always shouted my parents on the phone. I spent most of my credit on you. I’d nobody except you.
I feel a little relieved when i was in Labuan. I was away from my parents. But, I was so disappointed that you got the opportunity to study overseas. since then, I often went to the cyber cafe, and surf for information on US universities. Sadly, I feel down because it is not my fate to have the same chance as you. I eagerly forced my parents to send me away. I feel that I want to run away from Malaysia since then.
And days passed by, and the moment came.
You said that you have a boyfriend.
I really feel down until now despite some friends actually helped me. WH, for example, is the one who help me through the hard times. I feel very disappointed and terrible. I started to shun myself from thinking about anyone. I really feel sorry to my parents. I just shout and say bad words to them. I hated them. And I hated myself so much. I went to the counselor for help for 16 times, but nothing happened. I feel so heartless until now.
Dear Fatin,
actually I worried about you, honestly. I worried about being apart with the one I love the most. I don’t want to lose you. I understand how hard you try to achieve and grab what you want. I ever imagined how hard your life will be when you are there. I ever imagined how hard my life will be without you. And the most of all, I EVER IMAGINED HOW DARK MY FUTURE WILL BE. I hope you understand how hard I regain back my teenage years.

Yours sincerely,
HRH Prince Righty I

P.S: Fatin, I really hope that you pray for my success. Please don’t let me down… I really want to be beside you, facing ups and downs together. Forgive me… 143T.T

Posted June 27, 2011 by princerighty1 in EVERYTHING IS A REASON

What are FRIENDS for?   1 comment

During your childhood, you’ve been exposed to friendships. From the kindergarten, where you’ve been taught to be caring to one another, to play together and to discover new things together. As you grow up, you meet new kind of friends, and you are taught to ‘choose your friends’. Then, you’ll meet somebody that you think could probably your best friend. He/She has good background, good characteristics, and good manners. both of you play together, study together… the same thing.

Then comes your adolescence. You are very prone to change, and you are very sensitive of whatever happened around you. People around you will influence your thinking, and at the same time, you do influence others. It will be a big turning point in your life, when you’re no longer depend on your parents on emotional and social support. Then, your friends will be the ones who cares about you, feel empathic towards you… and the ones who make you feel happy and cheerful every day.

Well, is it important for us to ‘choose’ our friends?

Well, I will say NO.

I saw those teenagers everywhere. They don’t smoke, they don’t drink liquors, and I’m very sure that they abstain from premarital sex. Some short-minded teens said that those three bad things are cool, but not most of their friends.

And, I am a teenager.

Wherever I go, I will meet different people, and they have different characteristics, manners and attitude. I’ve met a lot of children, teens and adults. But then, I saw a similarity in them. They are just the same. We are different in some cases, but we are actually SAME.

So, what are friends for?

When I was in Form 3, I am thinking about having a best friend- a friend that will help me whenever I’m down and the one that will help me to be better than who I was then. I searched a lot about friendship. I searched them, I printed them, I read them and I tried to understand them. I tried to practice them and well, they don’t really works.

My SM Sains Miri schoolmates, 2009

…and I wait… until now. I met a lot of person in my life- smokers, drug addicts, illegal racers, bloggers, orphans, badminton players, soccer teams, talkative teens, lazy boys, mean girls, bullies, and very little pious and good boys, and so caring and understanding teenage girls. I analyse them all. I befriend them all. I listen to all of them, and I’ve found that they do have a similarity- they have their own story to tell. They have reasons to become smokers. They have their own reasons to become drug addicts. They have their own reasons for them to listen in empathy. And yet, I have my own reason to tell you why am I writing.

It is worth waiting when I’ve found my first love when I was in National Service. Her name? Read EVERYTHING IS A REASON part 2.3. Every teen have his/her own first love story, and now I’ll telling mine. She is a good and intelligent Malay girl. I met her for the first time in the CB class, and we’re in the same group. I was attracted to her. Since then, I contacted her almost every day in the camp. I never expected that she is my first love. I NEVER expected it.

After National Service, I continuously contacted her. We phoned sometimes. Suddenly, my mum knew about our relationship. My mum scolded me badly. Then, the application for the PSA scholarship is opened. I applied, but my mum forced me to apply for sponsorship to local private universities. I regretted so much the moment. Until now, I blamed my mum for making me regret such chance.

And the same goes to her, but I regretted for the second time. She got the scholarship. From then, I cried almost every night. I could not tell anyone. I was speechless. My main concern since then is attempting to commit SUICIDE. The burden was unbearable. The suffering continues… until I entered matriculation. I managed to gain back my spirit in a couple of weeks. I competed in the college election, and I won. I was the Academic Exco of the Student Representatives.

My deputy Academic Exco was an intelligent  Chinese girl named Woon Hui. She is 43 days younger than me, and she is one of the top achievers in the college.

Sunday, 27 June 2010 was my darkest day in my life. It was the moment my heart breaks into pieces and I felt really down then. She broke up with her boyfriend and she decides not to talk to me since. Well, me… I feel really sorry to her if I was the reason for the crush. I was attending a camp in Kota Klias, Sabah that very day. In the bus when I went back to the college, I cried a lot. The first person I told about the incident was, you know it, Woon Hui. She is the one who comforted me then. Since then, almost every day, I cried and I cried and I cried.

I didn’t know what actually happened to me. I can’t stop crying since the day. Maybe I was depressed.

I went to the counselor, but still, the feeling is not relieved that much. I look for Woon Hui. I told her all my problems and I cried. I think that’s the moment our friendship become stronger. I shared a lot to her, and she told me hers.

Maybe God wanted to give what I asked for 4 years. I think that she is the best friend I ever met in my life. Then, I learned something. Sometimes, we can’t feel that God is making our dreams true, but sometimes, we feel sad for meeting somebody we love for such a long period of time, and we are going to separate to our own ways; and then, we realise that God loves us very much.

I respected her for being that hardworking and intelligent. She is quite active in some activities, but finally I realised that nobody is actually perfect.

She has a loving family. She has a very loving and caring father. Since she was small, she was nurtured with care together with her two siblings. Her father was once resigned from work because of some family reasons. I wonder how responsible her father is to his family. She shared a lot to me. I just had 6 hours to talk to her and to share everything to her. Then, I feel relieved. A lot.

I don’t know how grateful I am to have such a good friend. do you know what Woon Hui said to me?

“I think you’re beautiful. Without you, the world will lose a loving father, a loyal husband and a good friend.”

Now I know what friends are for.

TO BE CONTINUED

Posted May 19, 2011 by princerighty1 in EVERYTHING IS A REASON

The Novel- EVERYTHING IS A REASON Chapter 2   Leave a comment

CHAPTER 2: I LOVE THEM

PART 2.1: MY DAD
Even though my dad is nearly bald, his face reminds me to his impressing lifeline. I am grateful to live rich, and full of luxury like a bed of roses, and he was the one which told me that life isn’t always bloom.
He was born on Friday, 4th January 1963, long before Malaysia became independent 9 months and 12 days after. He was born far away in a village, surrounded in a serene environment named Engkilili. I came there for the first time in 2006, after my cousin, Zul finished his PMR examination (PMR, abbreviation of Penilaian Menengah Rendah, an examination compulsory for all Form 3 students, will be ceased to exist in 2011).

My dad worked as… err… I don’t know. I mean, I don’t know what job is he is in. He said; just refer him to as mechanics. He worked in many parts of the world, and he got a full ship of bucks, too. Currently, he was working with SeaDrill, a company centered in Sweden (if I’m not mistaken) through Tioman Drilling, a Miri-born company, which hires a lot of workers but very few petroleum engineers.

I’ve a story about petroleum engineering. It’s about my dad, which was informed by somebody that I was to plot my future studies. He secretly told my mum, “Let him study Petroleum Engineering,” and that news leaked far away in Labuan.
I was thinking about courses, and in my target was: petroleum engineering, chemical engineering, pure physics and chemistry. They are big courses, and a lot of bucks, for sure. My eyes are seeing money right then…
But, something puzzled me. How can he know about it?

Down memory lane, yet, he is the greatest dad I ever have in the world even though he doesn’t look like the best. The low-profile look made me amazed about him. So, now I write this special for him, special for his 48th birthday on 4 January.
When I was in Year 1, he sent me to school at first. It was Monday, 4th January 1999, his 36th birthday. I never felt of been in school before. That’s when I feel away from family for the first time. Not bad, really. But it looked a little bad when a guy made me feel bad.
I told my dad about it. I always cried since the first day. That guy always disturbed me, pinched me, beat me until he saw me suffer.
All of it come to a surprise when my dad came and slow-talked with him. I saw him cried then. Pity him, my heart had spoken.
Since then, he was my good friend until Year 4. Since then, I never met him.

Even though my life is quite comfortable, actually it’s not. That’s what my dad told me.
He is not a fortune collector, but fortune keeps on coming. In reality, 30 years ago, the opposite happens.
He came from a family of paddy farmers. In Malaysia, rice can only be harvested once a year. I wondered how he can live in such family with nine members.
Then, he was adopted by a middle-class family in Kuching. He was kept by the family until he grows to an adult. He was given education until Form 5, but since SPM is not yet 100 percent government-sponsored, so he was about to find his own money.

The family, I consider to be just below average. Every day, my dad have to sell something he could to support his expenses, as well as for his SPM. What I know is that for one subject in SPM, it costs (in a range of) RM 10.50 to RM 12.00 per subject. The most expensive will be the so-called English 1119, which could costs RM 20.00 per student. I took SPM in 2009, and the government paid me RM 141.50 for 10 subject- Malay Language, English 1119, Physics, Chemistry, Islamic Teachings, History, Mathematics, Additional Mathematics (it’s all about calculus), and two ‘killer’ subjects, Biology and so-called ‘Grade Killer’ English for Science and Technology, or EST in short. I got 4A+’s, 2A’s, 2A-‘s, and 2 hope-killer B+’s.

I expected my dad should save around RM 140 for the SPM.

What about his results? He won’t tell me.

My dad proved me, with just an average results, he still have a good job. But still, I am heavily frustrated. WH and Fatin, for example, had a 10 A’s and 9A’s, respectively. I’m totally frustrated with that. I’m done talking about SPM.

My dad proved me numbers isn’t everything, but satisfaction and commitment should be the number one.
Just want you, the readers to know, my dad is very observant. He will observe every single inch and second of his and his children’s actions. The simplest example is my sister, Iqah. I am very sure that she was truly stressed during her school days. Being forced to study is her worst enemy. She appeared to be lazy every day at home.

My parents and I actually forced her to study so in the future she won’t regret. I encouraged her to study, so she will be in the boarding school just like me. But there is a problem. She didn’t even apply for the boarding school.
Then, comes her UPSR result, and some disappointment. She made it too bad, with two A’s and three B’s. When I asked her for the B subjects, her reply was: Science, Mathematics, and for sure, English.
I hated that. Why her English should is so bad? Simple answer from me: she was lazy.

I got 5A’s in UPSR. How could she give such results? Maybe it was our fault. We tortured her too much. I’ve done talking about Iqah. Let her make herself better.
Even though sometimes my father looks loud, but in fact he tries not to.
Offshore, he has a lot of good colleague on deck. Working with ‘black gold’ to match customer’s demand is a satisfaction to the workers. That’s why he wanted so much if I could work with him. He will be the senior mechanic, whilst I will be the junior petroleum engineer. There will be Zamhari Sr. and Zamhari Jr. on the deck. So what? I don’t know. Maybe he just wants someone to talk with or somebody to work or to cuddle with on the rig. Blah, blah, blah. Whatever it is, I tried to match his dream. Maybe he really wanted me to realize his dream. Maybe, otherwise, he just wants to see me better than him, just like other fathers in the world. Well, then, he is the best dad I ever had. I won’t want to change a father. He is just fit for me.

EPISODE 2: MY MUM
Back to 48 years ago, a year after a new Sarawak was born. It was my mother, a daughter of a paddy farmer. 48 years ago, Miri was an isolated, small town located 156 km from Bandar Seri Begawan, and a surprising 2200 km from Kuala Lumpur, its own capital. Miri is like, in my analogy, a child in a boarding school, away from his own ‘father’, but very close to its ‘guardian’.
48 years ago (until now), Miri was the heaven of oil and gas in Malaysia. Despite being the first and the oldest oil refinery in Malaysia, it was a home for acres and hectares of paddy fields. Every evening during my mother’s childhood, her siblings would line up, with a device called the ‘crab’ in their hands; they have a paddy-cutting race. I don’t know how fun it will be for I was born just decades after.
My mum came from a below average family, but better than my father because they have a vast paddy field. Her family is big, with 11 siblings’ altogether, and she was the tenth. Four of them were died before I was born.
Seven was left, and my grandmother is still alive.
She was, she is and she will always be the best mum I’ve had. She was there when I was crying for milk. She was there when I was unable to perform simple division when I was 9. She was there when I was sick.
And lastly, she was there when I was there, looking for my SPM results.
And she was there when I was back from the NS camp.
And she was there when I cried for telling the truth about me.
And she is always at home, calling me to have a hearty meal.
I ever tell her that I loved Fatin, but I never tell her the same about WH. It seems like she likes me to befriend WH compared to Fatin.
Why? I will tell about it later, dear readers.
Just that, some memories and tragedies happened made me hated her, and the latter really disappointing me. A lot.
She had beaten me when I was 6, when I was refused to go to the kindergarten.
My cousin was sick then. She didn’t go to the kindergarten and I thought to be like her, to skip class. I don’t know, until now, what actually happened to my mother. She suddenly stroked me with the cane. My whole body was hurt. I went to the class, down.
12 years later, she hurt me once again. All happened after I had my SPM results. I was to apply the scholarship to the overseas. The options were plenty and I thought to apply for engineering in the USA. But then, my mum came. It was all about misunderstanding about the scholarship. She thought that all the expenses for transport, etc. was on our own expenses, and only the courses was sponsored fully; and her idea was totally opposite.
She asked me to apply for the scholarship for studying in the country. So I replied, “For what? It is useless to apply- we can still afford the higher education in the country!” with a loud voice. But then, she forced me to do so. I wanted so much to study overseas, and then, she refused me to.
Then the day of interview came. All of the interviewee was applying to go overseas. I had no necktie; thanks to somebody that kindly lent me his. I was feeling weird that all of the interviewees are applying for overseas study. I felt really useless. I really felt I was damn stupid that day. Why I said so? I already expected I never have a chance to get a scholarship to study in Malaysia.
My heart was broken when I didn’t get what I aimed for. I went half-crazy since then. In matriculation, even until now (I am still in matriculation), I am craving for that.
I was like crazy when I was informed that Fatin was succeeded to have a sponsorship for a biotechnology studies in the USA. Then my mood slumped again. I was really down for months, even until now. I suspected that is one of the events in my life lead me to depression.
I challenged myself to struggle in matriculation so I could study overseas. Malaysian matriculation program was awarded the ISO 9000 that enables the student to study at their fullest extent in the world.
Unfortunately, I just can’t. When I take my result for the end-semester 1 exams, my heart was broken into uncountable pieces. 3.47. I hate the number. WH got a 4.
Look, I really feel disappointed with myself and my mum. My hopes are broken into pieces. I really feel down for that. And for your information, I was performing at my worst in MUET. I got a Band 4.
I feel ashamed of myself. I’m sorry Mum; I’ve to tell you that I can’t forget that moment.

EPISODE 3: MY FRENCH TEACHER

I remembered the first day I learnt French. Un, deux, trois… lundi, mardi, mercredi…
It was fun learning French, especially when it comes to verbs. We have to do some conjugations onto the words we are going to use. Sometimes, we need to add some ‘roofs’ or ‘eyebrows’ or even a ‘tail’ to some letters so that the meaning should not be changed.

But I am not going to tell about her class. As you know, EVERYTHING IS A REASON is invented and dedicated to some person who helped me to change during this stage of improvement, my teenage years. And one day, if I can publish EVERYTHING IS A REASON, I will only produce some hard-covers only for the personnel I dedicated in this story. I pledged to do so before I am 19.

I called her Mademoiselle Goh. She was a little younger than my mother, and she was the only teacher in the school; teaching French. She is just not like other teachers in the school, which some of them have their own agenda on teaching. The school itself gave too much pressure on their students to get all A’s for their PMR or SPM. Just like other boarding school in Malaysia, they push the students to study, study, and study. As a result, some of them were trying to break the stressful school rules.
I tried to be nice to all teachers in the school, but I tried my best to be the nicest in front of her. Why? Nothing.

A lot of teachers, from some sources, said that they don’t like me. The same goes to my friends. Even until now, around 3000 people hate me. But then I tell myself, “Never focus on people you hate, just love the people who loves you.”

Who loves me? Who cares about me?

Maybe I should find a best friend; I thought when I was 16. So I tried to be a best friend to somebody; maybe one day, I will find somebody. I talked to my mother, but her answer was disappointing. I talked to a counselor, disappointment results in.

Well, maybe that’s the start of my depressing years. It was 2007.
And now, it is 2011. I’ve searched everywhere for the answer; I am still searching for it. Is it high up in the sky, or just here in my heart?

I used to think that I could not go on

And life was nothing but an awful song…

And I never believed in myself, except for exams.
For 5 years, I’ve searching for the remedy for the emotion wound I tried and I hoped I could heal it. Maybe there is a reason behind it.
I’ve been hurt so many times since I was small, but I am just hard to realize that such disappointment will make me strong in the future. Tears flew down my cheeks for many times, sometimes with a smile, and sometimes it comes with heartbreak. But still, I can smile, just because I am who I am. I was never been like this before.

The journey goes and not yet ends. It will only end when there is no reason for me to end this journey I called Life.
So, what Mademoiselle told me?

Before I tell the answer, there is a story behind that. It all goes back to the calming night of 16th May 2009. I just finished my practice for the day’s performance. I remembered a teacher’s song, entitled Thank You, Teacher. It was not the ordinary song students heard during Teacher’s Day annually, instead it was a song created by a teacher when I was in primary school.

I waited for all my friends to sleep. It was 2 am.

I wrote a letter to her. I told her whatever I wanted to tell her, especially what I’ve experienced, and about the search.
I gave her the letter with a paper bag with gifts in it. I just know that she don’t like teddy bears or dolls like what my seniors did.
So again, what Mademoiselle told me?
I got the reply a few days after. And it was unexpected, she gave me an answer, and the answer touched my emotions.

“In life, sometimes, there are some ups and downs. You just can’t avoid it. OK, regarding the letter, it was so touching. I understand your problems, but try to think positively. Maybe one day you will find one.”

Since then, I tried to do good things to her, and I tried to be as nice as I can, since it was the last year I would met her. Luckily, I met her again in 2010.

She gave me a book, The Secret. “You should read it,” she said. I tried to understand what the ‘secret’ is all about, and I decided to spread the word.

When SPM was approaching, she noticed that all of my classmates looked stressful. One day after the roll-call, she asked the whole class. “Do you crave for something? Don’t you want to eat something?”
I know, she wanted to do something. All my classmates seemed to say OK. Then, she took the order, and each of the classmates paid for the price. Surprisingly, she bought us all the things we asked for. She willingly did.

Wow, I was very surprised that she could sacrifice her time to do so. All of us were waiting for the food. Instead of having the food in the dining hall, I had my fried rice.

Sometimes, people we loved so much will leave us.

20th November 2009.

It was the third day of SPM when I take the test for the ‘killer subject’ and it is the last day I became her student.
I was just like crying to see students; teachers were crying and students asked for forgiveness.

And yes, it was the last day I met her.

She told me,
“Sometimes we have to accept the truth that sometimes there will be times when you have to leave someone. But in life, as you grow up, you will definitely see that you will face a greater problem. So, just take care of yourself, and remember, try to think positively.”

I just can’t forget that she have changed me a lot. During my days without her around, I was totally screwed up. I lost my focus, I lost everything. I lost an A for Biology.
I’m sorry my dear teacher, maybe that’s the best I could do for my SPM, but I will never forget the words you told me.

EPISODE 4: FATIN, MY FIRST LOVE

I knew her the day I had my Character Building class in the National Service camp. She looks pretty in my eyes, and that’s maybe the reason for me to LIKE her, but it isn’t the reason for me to LOVE her. She was an active teenage girl in the camp. For information, she is 240 days older than me, but she looks 240 days younger that I thought.
The friendship became closer in the Integration class. I tried to be close to her, and from that moment I tried to know and recognize her backgrounds.

As time goes by, she seems to be closer to me. I sent her a lot of SMS and I always observed her when I go out of the dorm.

One thing I like about her- she like to befriend and to treat her friends in her own ways. So, how does she treat me?

In the camp, we were both observing one another. She even wore the garments with the same color as me. One day I wore pink, she did wear pink. One day she wore orange, she wore orange. Most of the times, we wear blue.

I like to disturb and see her in the dining hall, because it is one of the closest point I could met her. The closest will be the classrooms.
I saw that she is very committed to the friendship when she texted me a lot and tried to match me. Just like Mademoiselle Goh, we shared a lot of stories together: our parents, our interests, ourselves, our friends, our schools…etc. Based on the stories she told me since I knew her, she is far better than me in some aspects. She was an active teen, and participated a lot in activities. She is also a brilliant girl.

That is when I started to use the SMS a lot. It was a satisfaction to SMS somebody, just like other teens, especially to the opposite sex. Sometimes, girls understand me better than the guys. I started to be close to the girls in the camp just because I never have a chance to befriend girls in the school so close.

Honestly, maybe I am a perfectionist, but sometimes, I realize; being perfect is not perfect enough. I tried to be as good as I can, but maybe my best is just not good enough.

I learnt to be myself since then. So, in the camp I observe the ‘warriors’. I have found that teens are all different in their way of thinking. Some of them looked not to take the benefits from the program. Some of them resisted the change in them. Some of them fortunately changed a lot. I learnt that sometimes change is unnecessary if I don’t have a reason for it. But now, everything is a reason for me to alter my attitude.

Yes, everything is a reason for me to change. Yet, I am still resisting the change. Let me take my time, OK. A small change could take years, so you can imagine how hard it is to change. And yet, everything is a reason for this bad feeling I experienced. One of the definite reasons is Fatin, but I’m not blaming her for this.

And that’s why I wrote EVERYTHING IS A REASON. I tried to forget the grief, the bad memories and the depression I faced. I do this solely to say aloud that I want so much to make myself better than what I have right now.

See, I was on the verge of breaking down

Sometimes silence can be so loud

There are miracles in life I must achieve

But first I know it starts inside of me

If I can see it

Then I can do it

If I just believe it

There’s nothing to it

Oh, yeah?
If that’s the case, I won’t be like now. It is just a matter of lack of self-esteem and self-confidence. Many of my friends said I am a very confident teenager, and some said that I have a strong determination to achieve something in my life. Just that, I don’t know what actually happened to me and put me down. Perhaps it is an unexplainable emotion that haunts me.
Who knows?

Fatin contacted me a lot after the 67-day program. Every day, it is a must for me to SMS her. I seldom called her. Sometimes, I called her in 3 o’clock in the morning. Then my mother comes. She was a little puzzled when I always talk to Fatin to 3 am in the morning.
Sometimes, we were just talking about the same things. We were keeping on repeating stories.

One day, my mother scolded me.

She is actually irritated to see me holding the hand phone most of the time at home. As a response, I am just keep on shouting.

But still, I kept on contacting her until one day when I was really shocked. We are both applying for scholarship. I just couldn’t accept the truth that she will go to leave me maybe forever one day. She is in a sponsorship to study in the USA. She is currently in the American Degree Transfer Program in a college in Shah Alam, 2200 km away from me.

From then, the guilt haunted me. I was so ashamed of myself. I cried a lot, until I entered matriculation. I am crying, and crying, and crying. Then, I ran for the Student Representative election. I won 344 votes, leaving my vote behind.

At least, it heals me a little, and lately, it hurts me more severely than before. How this guilt screwed me up. But we are still in contact, and I wanted so much to be beside her. However, she said that she has somebody right now. I just can’t do anything, so I just say that maybe I am not for her.

Still, she shares her grief and sadness, and laughter to me. I’ve seen her boyfriend’s picture. I just was speechless. I think he is far better than me.

Now, I’ve lost my first love, but still I can do something to make her love me, even though we are friends. Who taught me about that? Thanks to TeensHealthTM and MyHealthTM portals.

My advice to my friends: sometimes you can enjoy some memorable moments with your beloved friend, without being in a date.

The guilt still haunts me until now, and it seems that I need somebody to talk. Luckily, in matriculation, I met somebody that may help me. I told all my secrets to her, and I don’t permit her to tell anyone. Who is her?

You’ll find out in the next chapter.

CHAPTER 5

IN MEMORY OF MY BROTHERS AND SISTERS

HARD and triggering. That’s the stress I have to face in almost a year. Even though it will go to end, I’m still struggling to live in this depressing life of a student.
I had a big circle of friends. I miss them, really. We are all 19, and we study in the same college. But time matters a lot. Four of them left the circle, and now, the memory often came, with tears of joy and grief in advance.
I participated in the election of the Students’ Representative Council. As a result, 2o representative were elected by the multi-vote ballot system. I never thought that the moment changed my life forever.
From then, all of us look like brothers and sisters; the bond of friendship is like a big chain, a big circle. We went out together, we study together, we had lunch (and dinner) together, we ‘travel’ to Perak together, and we do almost everything together. It was a wonderful semester, perhaps the most wonderful months in my life. But as time passes by, in the end, the laughter and excitement fades eventually.
Two of them are leaving for doing medicine in Egypt. One of them is leaving for a diploma and one of them left the college to work.
Yes, the joy is fading and eventually I lost myself. The second semester is like a hell on earth. I am mentally tortured. I lost the friends that motivated me, that share their stories and jokes to me, that I accept as my brothers and sisters. They are, honestly, the best circle of friends I ever had.
Things are getting worse and the circle is broken. Ever since, we hardly meet except for meetings and official ceremonies.
I admit that I fell in love with someone in the circle of friends. I don’t know why, but it seems that her humility and her personality became a major factor of it. If I don’t see her for a day, I don’t feel good for the entire day. I don’t think that it will return all the friends back, but at least it helps. Since the day I noticed I faced depression, she helped me a lot to gain back my confidence and happiness. Even though right now the depressive bouts never disappear, at least I could taste the joy of my teenage years.
And still, I wanted to have the circle back. After the circle breaks, we never go out together, we never study together, and we never celebrate birthdays together. My birthday was the last. It was like my last 9th November.
I wanted them to return. I really missed them. I want to go out together, to laugh together, to have lunch together, to study together, and to enjoy our teenage life together, AGAIN.

Posted April 25, 2011 by princerighty1 in EVERYTHING IS A REASON

The Novel- EVERYTHING IS A REASON Chapter 1   Leave a comment

PREFACE

How can I describe this? Or rather, what word should I use to express my feelings? My sadness is tearless, my laughter is emotionless. I feel bad of everything – being a Student Representative, out of rice at the canteen, out of water in the dorms, losing a girlfriend, whatsoever, whatsoever. Doing tutorials, laboratory experiments, attending lectures are like useless for me. I bet I will get a 4, but it seems like far from yes.
I always make a conclusion, but conclusions are terrible. I don’t know what’s good about me. I’m a 100 kg, 18 years old, teenage boy. That’s not the main reason, maybe…

I loved motivation talks, because I was an active but talkative teenager. And that was all history. Bright history. But then, when I’m in Form 3, when I was 14 years old, something started to ruin myself. I couldn’t stop crying.

For nothing, I cried.

Yet I searched for the reason. But nothing found.

Sometimes, everything is the reason for the strange feeling. It still haunts me now… and it worsens. I do contact the counselor for 12 times – 6 times in school, 6 times in college – and the appointments are worthless.

My feelings start to jumble up. All of my friends walk away of me. Nobody tries to help me. Assignments are mounting. Pressure is rising.
Even my parents, were the victims of this endless emotion. I am easily losing my temper even with a playful tease. I couldn’t see the bright side.
Everything leaves scars in my heart. It hurts. A lot.

Something is not right. Now I always feel sad, but I hardly cried.

Suicide? I thought about it almost 100 times for the past 3 years. And yet, it is forbidden.

Anything to make me happy? At least it heals me a little.

I feel guilty, confused, angry, sad, cruel, emotionless… right now.

PART 1: LIFE IS TERRIBLE

Episode 1

Monday, November 15, 2010

It was the chemistry lecture in the lecture hall. Miss Lee is giving the lecture about the electrochemical processes in a galvanic cell. When I entered the class, I felt very energetic, no one was more energetic then me, when I asked, “Miss, what’s the meaning of ‘Pt’?”

It’s platinum, used in the reaction between chlorine gas and sodium metal in a Daniell cell.

Minutes passed, I was still jotting down the notes, with a Faber-Castell in my hand. I left my papers today, so a kind buddy gave me a piece of paper.

Just an hour before, Mr. Ding’s class was on. The math tutorial was a truly boring but funny moment.

I just didn’t complete my tutorial exercises, and actually, I felt guilty for that. I supposed to complete it a night before, but I wasn’t. I took a day to relax after the tiring MUET exam on the 13th. I think, it was a right choice for me to take a day to forget everything about MUET. I’m going to take IELTS next year.

The physics lecture was on after the chemistry lecture. It’s Mr. Husaine, the lecturer that nearly changed me after he torn my assignment in semester 1. OK, let’s forget it. I don’t want to bother about it anymore. My mum said that it might be a good indicator that I’ll get a CGPA of 4.

He taught us about the refraction of light in spherical mirror. It was just OK except…

A couple of minutes before the class ends, something is not right. My tears flew down my cheeks suddenly. My mood was gloomy. What demon possessed my mind, what am I thinking about, what Mr. Husaine taught me… all those questions concluded one concrete answer, I DON’T KNOW.

I stepped out of the lecture hall when his last word is spoken. With a gloomy face, I accelerated my pace, I went to the mosque, with a thought of peace may be found there. It heals me a little.

After, a math lecture is held. It was very hot inside, and we learnt something more difficult than Mr. Husaine’s lecture.

And still, I just can’t control my feelings and I at last, I went back to the dorm, and pray, and write.

What’s happened to me, actually?

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

It was my 18th birthday. I waited for the first person who wished me a ‘Happy Birthday’. I received an SMS from Elsy, a boy-like girl which working as the Deputy Economic Exco for the Student Representatives Council; then, my good friend, Nazrin, and then, my first and love, Fatin. I called Fatin that night.

She was just recovered from heartbreak. We shared everything that night, from her last love to my personal matter. Honestly, I told her that I just can’t forget her. She is my first love. I saw her for the last time on 9th March, exactly at 10.35 pm when I went back from the National Service camp. I missed her so much. He broke my heart twice, but still, I loved her.

I sung Richard Marx’s Right Here Waiting to her…

Wherever you go, whatever you do
I will be right here waiting for you
Whatever it takes, overwhelms or heartbreaks
I will be right here waiting for you…

I wanted so much to say I LOVE YOU to her. The last time I said was a few days before the month of Ramadan starts. Then, for 3 months after, I didn’t say, SMS or even chatted with her via Facebook.

I said, “If you wanted to find better man, please give whatever the best you want to give to her without hurting your pride. But if all of them disappoint you, I’m waiting for you…”

And my tears flew down after the call…

The next day, I turned energetic like a motor. All classes are like excitements for me.

But that evening…

(Firstly, i want to say sorry if you are waiting for this moment… actually, I was too stressed to write. I have plenty of work to do, and this is what i could write. In 2011, Everything Is A Reason part 2 will be published, if God is willing. Everything Is A Reason is actually a real story, and I will write it during my free time or hen assignments have been accomplished. I hope that this story will not be used for personal matters or been copyrighted by others, because what you do reflects who you are. Thank you.)

Part 1.2

1996
It was my kindergarten year. TV programmes are boring for bad graphics. But still, P.Ramlee’s movies are the top choices. Tell me, what old comedies are not interesting? Besides old-and-white projection, their talent is unforgettable.
That’s not the story.
It was all began when I was 4.
First incident: somewhere when Power Rangers became famous.
The 5 Power Rangers made me crazy those days. They influenced me with their heroic actions: destroying, fighting, being rude, etc. I wondered to become a black Power Ranger, with excellent superpower, strong and muscular body, and high-tech weapons.
Sometimes, I dreamt about the Power Rangers.
Maybe, it was the reason of my swollen head. One day, my cousins and I was playing outside. We jumped around on that sunny day. Well, children are unstoppable.
Then, I followed them. Suddenly, I fell down. I landed on my head. It hurts a lot. My head was swollen, my legs sprained, and I cried a lot.
It left an undisappearable mark in my head.

1998
Second incident: around a month before I have a sister.
My mother was very sick then. I worried, and I wanted to follow her to the hospital. Went in hurry, my aunt refused to bring me along. Worse, I have to be with my dad. Sadly too, my father have to stop working that day, he have to take care of my mum.
It was the second wave of the Great Depression in Malaysia.
My hunger came. I wanted to eat something.
I opened the fridge, famished. Suddenly, that whole plate of sliced papaya fell onto my small feet. Ouch… I thought I will be scolded by my dad. So I ran to another aunt beside. I cried, a lot, to relieve that intensing pain.

Part 1.3

Friday, December 17, 2010

Why should I feel stressed? It is enough for me: unfinished assignments, unfinished worksheets for my activities for the Academic Bureau of SRC, pending works, being scolded in class, heartbreak, argument with my roommate, argument with my family, less time to chill out…
It was a bad Friday.
It was a crap. Totally crap. I was totally down the whole day. Thought to commit suicide again, I tried to fight the ‘demon’ in me. I don’t know what happened to me…. all things are going bad right now. I tried to manage them, and I was badly trapped in the net. At least, I tried.
Thinking back of my PSPM result, I was totally terrified. Nobody knows. 3.47 are considerably very good for most of the students, but not me. I’m actually, seriously, jealous with all 207 4.00 achievers.
Totally jealous.
It haunts me a lot. I was nearly gone crazy of that. I HATE myself right now.
Let me tell you what actually happened to me.
I think that I was nearly crazy. Too much pressure is exerted on my mind. I experience hypertension, I experience stress, I experience anxiety, and I may experience depression… ouch!
2010 is the toughest year in my life. I’ve been in the National Service, I’ve been interviewed for a scholarship, and I’ve been given a lot of things in the college…
And yet, 2010 taught me to be a strong person. I’ve survived the stress, the hypertension, the depression, the sadness, the heartbreak…
But still, mishaps come and go. I still managed to overcome them, or at least just to get rid of those bad feelings. I took a jog, I talked to my friends, I do Facebook, I went out alone, I studied physics, I do chemistry, I do math, I do pray… I am willing to do almost anything just to get rid of all those feelings.
Yet, life is still enough for me to withstand. I was really near to suicide almost 130 times.
That’s when advices are totally useless. The only thing I need is comfort. Nobody wants to comfort me. Some silly reasons: “You are 18! You are a man, guy! You should know how to manage your emotions!”
Whatever!

Tuesday, December 22 2010

I couldn’t give my fullest attention in class. Ah, it seemed ridiculous in class. Lectures, tutorials, assignments… I repeated this for times in this story. I mentioned about it hundreds of times. Maybe it is not the main cause of my long-lasting bad feeling.
But yet, if education is not a good thing, why it is made compulsory?
Many lecturers are actually taught us the theory but we didn’t see the value within it. A good lecturer should educate, motivate and help their students. A good student, anyhow, should learn, understand, and respect their respective teachers or lecturers (I prefer them to be referred as teachers).
And there’s no doubt in this matter. It will seem great if the students can give the best in learning if they couldn’t perform well in exams. And most of the teachers and students didn’t see the point.
What actually happened to me?
Let’s back to my story. It was WH’s birthday. Surprisingly, I didn’t see her, in every inch of the college I walked. Weird to think about and she seemed to forget her own birthday, and she said, “I’m busy right now!” What a hardworking girl! WH is one of the closest members of the SRC to me.
She has a sense of care towards all of her friends and buddies, including me. I feel very grateful for being in the SRC for it has kind members, and WH is my vice-Exco.
I gave her 2 big pieces of choc, and a nice card. It’s not actually a birthday card, it’s a friendship card. I gave it special for her, and for it was also my friend Ali’s birthday, I gave him the same objects I gave WH, but differ in style. Both cards are filled with my feelings.
These are what I wrote in WH’s card (or rather, have a close meaning)
“Dear friend, honestly, you are one of the closest friends I ever had. Since I befriend you, many things have changed, and you helped me a lot to change myself. But as time goes by, and our studies are getting to the end, I feel that we won’t meet again… (How sad the tone is…Hahaha). Maybe because I’m depressed and almost committing suicide, most of my friends get away from me. Luckily, I’ve you. You are one of the most caring friends I ever have. And for that, thank you for the friendship we cherished from the first day I know you. Lastly, good luck in your life, and see you in the future.
P/s: When are you going to have lunch with me?”
These are what I wrote in Ali’s card.
“Dear Ali, even though I don’t like you for some reasons, I like you for one reason: you like to share your thoughts with me. Maybe one day you will be in the same family with me, and you wanted to buy Liverpool, so, good luck in your future.
P/s: If you going to buy Liverpool, can you buy Manchester United altogether? Later I’ll pay you back.”
Ali, as far as I remembered, is a very good guy. He never showed his burden when he was almost penniless. I was once, almost penniless, and my wallet and my bank account was empty. What are left in my locker were 1 kg of spaghetti, 3 cans of Campbell’s spaghetti gravy and one jar of Leggo’s Napolitano spaghetti sauce. Luckily I had a Coleman insulated box, so I could carry my lunch everywhere.
I remembered the moment when Ali is looking for food in the SRC’s ‘office’. Around August, during Ramadan, we have plenty of food inside. Just say it: biscuits, sweets, noodles, onions, garlic, and even chips- and I could say that the SRC was never starving, until sometime in September.
I brought the spaghetti into the office. There was starving, famishing Ali.
“Do you have anything to munch?”
I had half a kilogram of cooked spaghetti and an opened can of Campbell’s Mushroom spaghetti sauce. I shared to him. I know how starving he is when he had the spaghetti. Actually, we were both starving.
Lately, he said to me he wants to be a businessman. “Of what?” I said.
“I wanted to be a rich man. I wanted to buy Liverpool, just because I like Liverpool,” he said.

PART 1.4
Saturday, 2nd January 2010 ~ Wednesday, 10th March 2010

Back down memory lane, I was in the National Service Training in Jugra Camp in Banting, Selangor.
It was the very first day in my life, been separated from my parents by the South China Sea. 2200 km of the flight I took made me proud to be a Sarawakian in the ‘New World’ of Malaysia, the great Malaysian Peninsula.
But, I never expected that the experience would change my life a lot.
The first time I stepped on the foreign soil, it feels like maybe it will be very exciting to be in the NS. And yet, in that 67 days (or rather 66 days, 12 hours, 20 minutes), I changed from an ungrateful person to a very thankful individual. I learned how to be honest, how to cope with hard situations, how to make friends and how to feel how gifted I was to be.
And the most important, I learned how to be and thank myself. But still, I feel grateful to gain some experience that every teenager should has.
In every circumstance in the camp, self-discipline is the number one. Punctuality is a must. There is no reason for being late, but still most of the so-called ‘warriors’ are not a warrior enough.
I lived in the B2 block, which accommodated 25 guys. I was the leader, and most of the time, I was never referred to as a leader. Moreover, some of them denied my leadership. I was the one that became their ‘servant’. They thought they are powerful enough to let me down. Well, reality was opposite.
I was asked to be the Bravo leader for 6 days. So, I have to shout here and there, I have to ensure the whole company to be in time, I have to ensure them to line up properly before any activities in front of the dormitory, I have to inform anyone that absent (with reasons of absence), etc.etc.
Most of the Bravo members (especially boys) are, well, lack of self discipline. I could see it in everything they do: being late in activities, like to start fights, smoking, being lazy, likes to see others to suffer, and many more. They seemed not to obey the rules, but to disobey them.
And maybe, I could say that the National Service is nothing to them; National Service doesn’t change them. Some do smoking, and they never stops. Some do annoying other ‘warriors’ and they never stop.
In contrast, National Service turned me 360 degrees.
And, wonders do happen, too.
It all starts when I was in the Character Building (CB) class. I still remember there are 7 rules in the CB class. They all had been implemented to help trainees to present the best in themselves and others. And surprisingly, CB classes are like kindergarten.
In the first days of CB class, we learned how to present the best in ourselves. We learned how to be honest, how to love ourselves, how to think creatively, and how to use our right brain. We are asked to draw anything we’ve done in the previous day, and what we learned from the previous experience. Sometimes, we were asked to express our feelings in front of the class. I’ve came out twice.
Then I met a guy named Justin. He was a son of an editor of The Star.
I met him during the second CB class. That’s when I started to be close to him. I invited him to join my group.
From then, I shared a lot about myself to him. Honestly, I believe in 1Malaysia concept: to live in harmony, even in a multiracial community. Justin’s story will be continued soon.
The second module of CB is to help trainees to build self-confidence and to present the best in others. We learned how to overcome arguments, how to control our emotions wisely, how to set goals in life and how to plan for success.
There’s a story about a man around 1930’s. There was a 15 year-old teenager listing down all his 127 desires in life. Before been introduced to the boy, we are asked to do the same in 5 minutes. I managed to write 57.
The boy set up a long list of his aims, and the list is named ‘My Life List’. Out of 127, 109 were accomplished when he was 60. I was totally surprised. I never have an aim for life. Hovering around the list, I asked myself, “can I do what he’d done?” Then, I realized something. I think I have been late to reconstruct my future. That’s one of the causes of the depression I faced. I was late. I am.
As time goes by, my life changed a lot. A lot of people influenced me in the way of thinking. One of them is Fatin.
Fatin is a girl, 240 days older than me, which always keep in touch with me during my tough times. She was on the line when I felt down a few months after the program ends. She was a student of MRSM Taiping. She got 9 A’s for her SPM.
I have been close to her during the Integration class (nothing to do with calculus, instead, to introduce the rich diversity of culture in Malaysia). I started to be close when I just was playful in my manners and words. There were playful teases, and just jokes. But surprisingly, I liked how she acted. She is pretty, cute and full with smiles.
In the camp, I reserved a flooding smile only for her. From that class, I began to know her. I still remember the first time she sent me an SMS. ‘If today is the Day of being Honest, what will you say to me? Remember, reply me first!’
I replied her in the next 24 hours.
‘You’re lying! Where did you found the Day of Being Honest?’
Since then, I shared a lot with her. All my 600 free SMS were used. I couldn’t forget her. Every day is a torture for me. Seeing her face is a must for me every day in the camp. I wanted to see her tête-a-tête. I think this is my first love. I never fall in love before.
My friends might think that my first love was an Indian girl in my secondary school. When I was in Form 5, she was in Form 1. She was the only Indian in the batch, and maybe because of it, I liked her. I always asked his friends to send my regards to her. We were ever exchanging ‘love letters’ since she knew me, and I ever asked someone to be the ‘postman’. The whole Form 5 batch, anyway, surprised. They never expected such things would happen, including me.
But honestly, I don’t really love her. Maybe I liked her, but I never loved her.
But still, until now, she keeps on contacting me on the line.
That’s enough for her. Let’s back to the story.
I learnt a lot from the NS. I remember when I was doing the ‘flying fox’. That’s totally beyond my expectation and my phobia. The tower is around 80 feet high and the trail is 200 meters long. That’s enough to produce vertigo.
It was a sunny Wednesday in the camp. After taking a nap after a charity work in a kindergarten in Banting, the whole company is asked to assemble in front of the tower. Looking at the tower, the adrenalin rushes throughout the body. I wouldn’t expect this to happen, actually. But I have a chance to cool down, because it was the girls which tried it first. I saw them shouting en route to the end of the trail. They seemed keen to do so.
Then, my turn to have the travel comes. I was the first boy to do so.
Looking down, the adrenalin rushed again to my entire body. Fear stroked me back. It was embarrassing that I took 2 minutes before I was to shout and slide down. Then, in the journey, I saw the beauty of fear itself. That was the shortest 30 seconds in my life before a big splash happened. ‘Whoosh!’
I fell into the water. Half of my body was wet, and I have to dry my boots. Anyway, I really thanked myself that I’ve done a fear-threatening act.
Actually, I never planned to tell a lot about the NS, and I think that it’s better for me to just summarize.
After 66 days of life-changing, personality-shifting and self-confidence-enhancement, it was time for me to leave. It was a gloomy Tuesday. There was the program-closing ceremony in the open hall. Full of gloom, we all sang the Negaraku with a very sad tone. I never saw a gloomy celebration like this before. We were back home, ending our program, and taking our SPM results on the 11th March.
The commandant gave a speech, and then came the gloomiest part when we were shaking hands with the staffs, the trainers, and our friends, as a symbolic for the end of the program. Then, I saw Fatin and Justin. I saw Fatin cried a lot. Maybe she was really appreciating the moment she was there. I saw Justin. He wasn’t look sad at all. I cried then on his shoulder. The shirt he wore was wet of my tears.
Actually, I appreciate everything I got in the camp. I appreciated Justin, I appreciated Fatin, I appreciated the lesson I learnt during the program. Some of my friends hugged me, even the ones I hate the most.
And then leaving time arrives. It was 3 o’ clock, but all the boys refused to sleep.
They wanted to send us back, but sadly, Justin and Fatin weren’t there. Justin were back home early, and Fatin was sleeping, not noticed that I was going back home.
Luckily, her friend, Zu came that morning.
Zu gave me a small bag containing a packet of Cheezels, Fatin’s favorite pencil case, some sweets, and some pictures of her. I’ve nothing to give, just telling Zu that I loved her so much.
Sending regards to her, I saw tears flowing down her cheeks.
I saw Fatin for the last time on 9th March 2010, 10.35 pm. I saw Justin for the last time, somehow too early, on the same day, on 11.30 am, of which it was the very last time I contacted him before he had something really bad to me in my absence.
Going into the bus, I was quite sad and depressed. “Why doesn’t she want to see me today? Or, does she hate or trying to avoid me?” I talked to myself. I left the camp exactly on 10th March 2010, on 4.10 am. I left the Peninsula for Miri via KLIA. It was the first flight of the day. With the 15 ringgit I had, I had McDonalds for my breakfast. In KLIA, the grief was exaggerated but I quite relieved when I saw my old schoolmates. We are all waiting for our SPM results. That grief is actually part of the greater and tougher journey in my life after the National Service.
Goodbye, National Service, thank you for teaching me a lot about life.


Posted April 25, 2011 by princerighty1 in EVERYTHING IS A REASON