Silent killer it is.

When there are so many things inside my head... it's deafening. There are so many things I wish to say, I wish to curse, I wish to blurt out to just slice people's emotions - not for the intention of hurting an innocent person, of course, but to get that feeling into the people who deserve it. I want - I guess everyone WANTS those "deserved" people to feel some sort of pain so that the satisfaction shall be absorbed into our psyche, and justice is proclaimed as served, virtuously. On the other side of the coin, in reality part of the universe, where these justifications do not happen, where cruellas dwell and marvel in obnoxious oblivions, the affected receivers of the result of such ugly personality feel but try with all available might to push away the reserved anger, shame, dissatisfaction, though simultaneously allow their conscientiousness to hold them back from committing offenses defined by law. Hence the outcome of death of all the nice, helpless, powerless people on earth by the popular silent killers. These killers - the chains of stress which progressively and sometimes abruptly build up in one's moods, the tense that rises in one's chest - these things are silent, especially when all that the one under tremendous amount of stress displays are silent typing on the keyboards, an indication to the eyes of those seeing, perception of those perceiving as working  one's way into the success - a term defined by whom the common reference to the adjacent of a genital needs to be metaphorically kissed - and the reluctant but mandatory loyalty attitude like a canine would have, combined with unnecessary obsequiousness which slowly but surely bury their sense of moral, loosen the grasps on the principles one once used to honor and believe - are responsible of taking one's life, should they be granted a chance, consciously or subconsciously, or worse, under any influence. 

Home

What's home to you? It used to be much simpler back then, when we were younger...when the meaning of home was just parallel with safe environment, family, freedom and the likes of them. To me it was a shield from the outside world. To me, it was another world where I had it as my escapism from school and strangers. To me, it was where I was most familiar in, where I took my showers, slept in, had my meals, watched my TV, played pretends with my sister, rest assured that I was safe with the adults handling everything, and where freedom was glorified. People say house is just a place, and home is where your family is. I partially agree, though I also agree that the best parts about a home are the contents in that home - the people under that roof, the things contained under that roof, and the events happening under that roof. The laughter, the cries, the coffee, the meals cooked, the worries, the private jokes shared, the fights, the apologies, the forgiveness, the confessions of embarrassing encounters, even good and bad news shared.
Things change inevitably when kids grow up and start having their own life. They start having their own interests, careers, priorities, and things just change... It makes you remember the last time something had taken place...something which couldn't possibly happen anymore, neither in the present nor in the future. It ticks, making you realize, "shit, that was the last time it could possibly happen", and you realize that every moment is indeed precious. We have this natural denial in us that things end. Things do end. They really do.
That's why the present is in fact already a present for us, which we must be thankful for.

Eid al-Fitr 2019

Yesterday was our first day of Eid Mubarak – or you can call it Eid al-Fitr…

Well, if you search it in Google, the best library ever created for humankind in most parts of the world – it would tell you that Eid means Festival, and Mubarak means Celebration. Hence, it’s a festival of celebration. Quite a safe way to put it. I prefer Eid al-Fitr. Of course there’s no necessity in “preferring”. I just said it because I can. Anyway, Eid al-Fitr means Festival of Breaking the Fast.

Almost every year, we go to Mak’s kampong(village) on the first day except for last year, which we skipped – because according to mak no one was celebrating there last year, at that house – a house which told a thousand stories, a house which when you enter, you could feel the past. That’s how it is for me. The house is really old, really, extremely old. Everything there except for some new frames with Quran holy words and verses, the fridge, as well as the curtains (those green, net-ish, fly-ish with simple designs types) were not as old as the house. I doubt the stability of it each and every time I reach the house, and contemplate if it’s necessary or compulsory to climb up the house – but each and every year, I climb up (to be fair the green stairs are new – they are cement.), and each and every year, the faces become more and more familiar to me – the faces which I then recognize and register as family. I try recalling their relationships and who their partner or kids were – and gratefully, my puzzle was always very much assisted and solved by the colour of their Raya clothes. Until today, please forgive me, I don’t know all of their names. Therefore, it was a relief to me when my mother in law asked for the name of one of the kids, and it was a bigger relief when another asked the full name of another kid – and when someone eventually asked for my name. Phew!! I wasn’t that monstrous, after all. It’s really astonishing, knowing that the house is vacant the whole year through, until this very festival when everyone would be there, all for the purpose of gathering and to maintain Silaturrahim. (Silaturrahim simply means strengthening of ties. Source: https://www.muslimaid.org/media-centre/blog/the-strengthening-of-ties/) And these “everyone” come from different places of the country! I know some came all the way from the eastern region like Kedah and Penang, and many of us who were from Klang Valley. The effort itself is just precious. That house is not actually “visited” by relatives – but more like a house where everyone gathers, and settles down, and then after that walk to other surrounding houses for visits. It’s really special that way. I’m glad to be a part of this, though I AM afraid of possible worms or other creatures which would not hesitate to crawl up the house or hide in the bushes nearby. Two years ago, I actually bravely spent the night there with dear, and my mum in law, and her sister, Wak Jas. I think it’s better that I document the people that I can remember, for me to remember better!

Let me try to remember them one by one:

Wak Jas (that’s how my husband calls her) – she seems to be the most senior over there, in terms of age.

Bik Jenab – the pretty lady who bakes lots of nice cookies! I will be buying only from her when it comes to cookies from now. Unless, of course, my desires to buy other festive cookies kick in – and this is obviously normally when impulses win.

Paman – Bik Jenab’s husband, but he wasn’t there yesterday. He’s an expert in electrical tasks.

The three young girls and their two brothers – they were all brought up well by their late mother, I’m very sure. Kak Hawa had passed away due to leukemia. She was such a kind, nice lady – that was the impression she gave me. I really can’t recall their names but I know I can find their names out from FB. Shame on me. The girls have the best manners ever. I didn’t pay much attention to their brothers, but I know they were also the types to help out and comply with rules and laws.

One other lady with the name of Ana, is Bik Jenab’s younger daughter would normally hang out with the three sisters, but she was also not present yesterday because she wasn’t feeling well – woman stuff. Ana is extremely pretty.

Ana’s sister, Ani, who now has two boys – the younger boy was super adorable!

Awie – according to my husband, he’s a musician. He plays keyboards? And of course his wife with 3 kids.

There was another family whom I would remember wherever I see them – the other musician, Ajib (that’s how I hear dear says his name) and his wife and their kids. I would definitely remember his wife because she’s gorgeous! Ajib is Awie’s brother.

They have two more sisters, one is Ina, whom I believed I had seen for the first time, and I hope I got her name right, and another one Ikin, who was  not there, but someone I would recognize because I had seen her multiple times in the years before.

There is also another family with sugar glider pet. They are a harmonic family – where their children seemed well-mannered too. I remember my husband calling the guy Abang Nanang, though I am not a hundred percent certain if I got it right.

I hope I do not miss anyone out… the rest without the names mentioned, I blame it on my weak brain in remembering names, but I could also be lying because I remember every single person’s name of the sales people at my office (and I’m talking about the whole country!). I should blame it on my effort in remembering their names – but I would like to justify that I meet them once a year.

I was happy about the night before (this could be my advertisement break, though I’m not advertising anything – y’know, it’s the advertisement metaphor where it interrupts the movies)… The night before, dear and I had broken our final fast (is that how you put it?) for 2019 at Ikano Power Center Penang / Teochew Chendol. It’s adjacent – sort of, to Tesco, so we parked our car at Tesco – our habit – since we were familiar with it, and we were going to Tesco (as always), anyway. The reason we chose that location was me. I wanted the ring I saw few weeks back. It was just some Korean accessory, but I loved it (until I found out its flaw which I cursed myself for not inspecting it enough to pay the money, but soothed myself that its special character could be a personal mark, knowing that I couldn’t have possibly gotten it changed – I was lazy to even think about changing it). We were hungry, so we went to the nearby bakery to get some more bread – like it was going to help, because it really turned out to be just a waste of money – undelicious but fancy-looking Chocolate Bunny Bun (mine of course) and one mushroom chicken whatever bun. They were too expensive for their taste and their worth. After getting whatever that we needed from Tesco (I can’t remember what we got but I remembered the sadness I felt when we both felt that the hamper which I wanted to get for my parents in law was too expensive, though it was really not – it was just expensive for us. Why do I feel so poor these two months? I ended up getting my mother in law a shawl that she would wear, I hope. To wrap up our night, we got ourselves a super nice carpet. It was expensive too, of course, though I do not deny my overuse of the word “expensive”. I was satisfied. I treat it as a gift from my husband because he agreed that we buy it – we even negotiated the price to be 33.33% cheaper.

This year we are without my pretty sister in law, Lydia and her family, as well as my brother in law, Juan, and his family. There were just us – mak and abah, dear’s youngest brother Ain, and the two of us – no children. I’m not sure what’s the significance in me saying no children – because it’s totally unnecessary.

We sat on the floor to eat the raya food – Rendang Ayam and Rendang Daging, with Lemang and Ketupat, and Ayam Masak Kicap, with Kuah Kacang, and Sunquick Orange Juice.

Later that evening, we went to another house where we were served corn drinks and bananas (together with other Kuih Raya, of course…). It was a short visit, but my darling husband was pretty tired, so he slept in the car. I’m not sure why he was that sleepy, but he was. The same thing happened when we went to the final house for visiting – also one of my favorites because of the Ketupat Palas. It was heavenly! Too bad, dear didn’t get to taste any because he had chosen to sleep in the car. Well, I was almost alone most of the time, so, thankfully I had my Phabplus with me. It contains not only some downloaded movies, but also two very nice stories from Haruki Murakami: Kafka on the Shore, and IQ84. I had read Kafka on the Shore last year, and I’m now reading the other one. Reading indeed is a great hobby to pass time. Well, it gets you hooked sometimes.

We got home after midnight, and gosh! 4 days holidays – 4 days of freedom and happiness, just made my insides go wobbly with feelings made of paradise-ish ingredients.  I’ve not been really crazy about Raya, but I still am starting to love it, because of the get-together with the family, and the great food which I have guiltily love and guiltily not helped in any of the processes.

More to come!

My 10 blogs

I realized that I have about...10 blogs. In fact, precisely 10 blogs. They're:

1. ajm - my new initials 
2. As-I-Like
3. Laid-back
4. Late at night..
5. life goes on
6. mini opinions on mini onions
7. outta my life please
8. Peculiarity
9. secrets to my heart
10. So Honest It Tickles

This entry in this blog shall be my reminder for myself that I in fact, own 10 uninformative, personal blogs which give no one but myself some sort of contentment in this dearly short life. 

I think I have locked the other 9 away, and this is the only blog which can be accessed by the public, if there's ever such interest. 

It's a miracle that I have managed to keep all these blogs and - dang it, I now have an idea about what to buy to Mak's house later - COOL BLOG! Then again, I think fruit is much easier because when it comes to cool blog or cool blogs, there are just so many flavors which one can choose from - making it a little more complicated and more time-consuming that it necessarily needs to.

Personality

In recent years, I have become more observant than I had been in my past. I think the course that I'd chosen to take is slowly changing me. I have to admit that if I want to ignore a person, I am strongly able to do so. That's the part of myself which I am able to either be proud of or scared of. When I have decided to ignore a person, it will be a very unfair part I am playing in that relationship - doesn't matter if it's work relationship, friendship, family... I am not a good person. I get annoyed with people's personalities. I am judgmental, which I should not be if my dream of becoming a psychologist is to be pursued. Even at this age, having lived in the world for three decades, I am still sometimes questioning myself whether am I in the right path, am I wasting my time, am I missing out, am I too late for this, am I making the right decision, and the list is never-ending. As a human being, taking out all the biopsychosocial factors in life which can be quite impossible, we have a natural tendency in competing... we are inclined to compare ourselves to other people. I had just earlier read about an article headline where it says: "Successful people don't compare themselves with others". I speedread the article because it was not an article I was searching for at the time. However, the keypoints I got from the article was that we need to have a learning mindset and not to compare ourselves with others. Mark Twain quoted that "comparison is the death of joy". The article had advised us to observe from the great, and learn. We break down what we learn, and then reconstruct it to make it our own. It's brilliant, don't you think?

Anyway, after such a long introduction, my point of this entry is to tell you about what I had observed yesterday when I spoke to my sister in law. Talking to her made me think about success, personality of course which was obviously from her upbringing, and I reflected on the way I had my words roll out when I conversed with her. I immediately could tell the difference in the way we view things and the way we had expressed ourselves. During the conversation, I noticed that she had barely used any negative expressions or words to describe circumstances. This may sound ironically like a comparison which conflicts the article I talked about earlier, but really, not being in a defensive mode towards my own pre-judgment towards myself (you see my own battle is myself, the fight is just endless. hilarious me.) but it did make me think about our differences - our environment, our faith perhaps, our social groups, our daily encounters, our views and perspectives towards life and people, etc. I had been introduced to her for almost a decade now (pardon my love of using the word 'decade', but I really love it. It sounds very whole.), and even though we talk to each other sometimes twice or thrice a year only, I have always absorbed only positive things from her. The way she's religious and pious but without showing it on purpose, her easy-going aura which makes people (like me, the antisocial freak of the family) feel pleasant and comfortable. She just returned to the city from a more rural state in my beautiful home state, and she's pretty excited about the access and availability and the technological advances of things here. I had asked her how did she like it back there and instead of using the word "boring", she used the word "routine(d)" --> honestly I'm torn between using it as a verb or an adjective. Either way, it's not that important for now. I found myself complaining about my current circumstances, with the use of negative emotional words, of course. I self-entitled the complaining action because I had just recovered from feeling really down to the point where I had brainstormed on ideas for escaping work. Even though it was a short conversation with her, I had learned that I should apply what I had taught to employees from one training session to another in my previous company. Use positive words, not trigger words. Another thing I have realized about myself lately is that I seldom apologize anymore even though I could have been contributing to some mistakes at work. I have become defensive again - the old, as in 2011 me. 

Anyway, I find myself struggling or am trying too hard sometimes, when I need to build a reputation for myself while conversing with people... that things turn out the other way round. Dang! Through my whole afternoon of reading online articles related to dealing with people at work, personalities, and qualities of a great person, etc, I came to re-realize that I complain a lot. I badmouth certain people to people who are important to me. In the process of doing so, I might have slowly lost the important people in my life - not physically, but in the name of closeness or trust. Dang!

I'll train my brain to be less sarcastic, to not think of a person badly, and to re-adapt good values in myself. It's not that hard, is it? It is hard, it will definitely take time. Being less sarcastic is going to be a challenge though. Sarcasm, when it comes from me, is funny. I love funny. Okay dang, now I'm being a narcissist. I'll stop talking now, but Allah, please help me to be a better person.