17 Days

I have seventeen days left of my annual leave to last till the end of the year. It’s not like I have anywhere to go, really. There is no out-of-state hometown to return to, since we are all Selangor natives; no in-laws (yet) in the picture, and no exotic overseas vacation planned. Even the thirteen days off I took were spent mostly sleeping late and having long breakfasts with my parents.

My mother has been bugging me to buy a new baju melayu for the coming Raya, but I managed to convince her that my four-year-old baju melayu is still in excellent condition, and most importantly, fits. It was a mistake to joke earlier that after missing it twice when I was in Boston I am celebrating this year’s Raya like crazy in a full songket baju melayu. I like the idea of shopping and buying new clothes, up to the point of actually paying for them, LOL; and shopping during a festive season like now is just crazy, sale or no sale.

Anyway, here's a song for the weekend:

The Hardest Part
by Coldplay, from the album X&Y (2005)

And the hardest part
Was letting go, not taking part
Was the hardest part
And the strangest thing
Was waiting for that bell to ring
It was the strangest start

I could feel it go down
Bittersweet I could taste in my mouth
Silver line in the cloud
Oh and I
I wish that I could work it out

And the hardest part
Was letting go, not taking part
You really broke my heart
And I tried to sing
But I couldn't think of anything
That was the hardest part

I could feel it go down
You left the sweetest taste in my mouth
The silver line in the cloud
Oh and I
Oh and I
I wonder what it's all about
I wonder what it's all about

Everything I know is wrong
Everything I do, it just comes undone
And everything is torn apart
Oh and it's the hardest part
That's the hardest part
...

What do I do with the seventeen days?

Browser Blues

As seen on Internet Explorer 7 RC1

I noticed recently that the blog looks strange on IE - part of the header is eaten up by the Blogger NavBar. I went through the code and couldn't find any way to fix it; nothing that I can see, anyway, since I am no programmer. The blog looks fine on Firefox and Opera though, so I blame the problem squarely on MS. If anyone can help me with this, please do.

As seen on Firefox

The template may be due for a revision too, but I think I'll wait till the new Blogger comes out of beta.

Faces

Somebody called out my name as I was walking back to the office after Friday prayer. “I was your junior at KTJ” he said. I recognized the face. He now reads law at AIKOL.

I am so terrible at remembering names and faces. From time to time on campus I’ll come across someone with a familiar face, who will come up to me calling my name and striking conversation, and I will have absolutely no idea who they are. “You don’t remember me, do you?” asked one guy a few months ago. It was really embarrassing.

My mother says that people will think that I am arrogant, rude and selfish. I can say that I don’t care about what others think, and really be arrogant, rude and selfish. To a certain extent everyone is arrogant, rude and selfish anyway. But really, who remembers their juniors in high school? As a direct-intake student at IIUM I was out of synch with the rest of my class; if anyone can tell me which class I belong to in the first place. Students coming from the matriculation program, following the practice of their seniors, tend to take the university-required religious studies courses early on, and register for extra courses over the recommended workload so they can graduate early. I was in no hurry to graduate, taking only the minimum recommended load of five courses every semester, and treated the university required courses as fillers to complete my workload after having registered for my program courses. So, I often find myself in classes among students who are either more senior or more junior. I don’t think I should be expected to remember the people I only saw in class two times a week over fourteen weeks some years ago.

But they remember me, my name.

I suppose then there really is no excuse for me not to remember them in return, except the fact that I simply don’t. If that makes me arrogant and selfish, then be it. I'm just terrible at remembering names and faces.

Ramadan Karim - Happy fasting everybody!

My Frankentree

There is a curry-leaf (daun kari, Murraya koenigii) tree behind the house mother told me to cut down. At least it was a curry-leaf tree, but it doesn’t really look like a curry-leaf tree anymore; kind of like a Franken-tree or something. The trunk is thicker, and the leaves are different. It still gives out the familiar aroma of a curry-leaf tree, but plus a hint of kaffir lime (limau purut, Citrus hystrix) smell.

There was a kaffir lime tree a few metres away from the curry-leaf tree. My father had my brother chop it down quite some time ago. Could the two plants cross? “Bila pulak dia kahwin?” commented my mother. My sister was more concerned about what to call the tree, and what can we use it for. I just don’t want to get rid of the tree.

So typical of Malaysian bureaucrats – my mother was, after all, a headmistress – to want to chop down any tree they see. There is a huge conspiracy against trees. That's why nobody does anything about all those illegal logging activities reported in the news. My old primary school used to have plenty of shade from the many big old trees on the compound, including a huge casuarina tree (pokok rhu), but they’re all gone now. “What’s wrong with the tree?” I said, “it’s not in the way of anything”. “I just want it gone [AHA!]. I’ve been taking curry leaves from the smaller plants by the drain anyway” said mother. Still, the tree has done nothing wrong.

As a compromise, we settled with me just trimming the tree a bit. I like the lone Franken-curry-leaf-kaffir-lime tree, my Franken-curry-leaf-kaffir-lime tree.

It turns out that the curry-leaf and kaffir lime trees come from the same family Rutaceae. Now that’s something new I learn today.

* * * * *

Mention One Tree Hill today, and most people would think of that TV show I don't watch. But for me, it will always be a U2 song, named after a spot in Auckland, New Zealand.

One Tree Hill
by U2, from the album The Joshua Tree (1987)

We turn away to face the cold, enduring chill
As the day begs the night for mercy, love

A sun so bright it leaves no shadows
Only scars carved into stone on the face of earth

The moon is up and over One Tree Hill
We see the sun go down in your eyes

You run like a river on to the sea
You run like a river runs to the sea

And in the world, a heart of darkness, a fire-zone
Where poets speak their heart then bleed for it

Jara sang, his song a weapon in the hands of love
You know his blood still cries from the ground

It runs like a river runs to the sea
It runs like a river to the sea

I don't believe in painted roses or bleeding hearts
While bullets rape the night of the merciful

I'll see you again when the stars fall from the sky
And the moon has turned red over One Tree Hill

We run like a river runs to the sea
We run like a river to the sea

And when it's rainin', rainin' hard
That's when the rain will break a heart

...

Tuesday Afternoon

It's Tuesday, and I am certifiably bored.

Ruby Tuesday
by The Rolling Stones, from the album Between the Buttons (1967)

She would never say where she came from
Yesterday don't matter if it's gone
While the sun is bright or in the darkest night
No one knows
She comes and goes

Goodbye Ruby Tuesday
Who could hang a name on you?
When you change with every new day
Still I'm gonna miss you

Don't question why she needs to be so free
She'll tell you it's the only way to be
She just can't be chained to a life where nothing's gained and nothing's lost
At such a cost

“There's no time to lose” I heard her say
Catch your dreams before they slip away
Dying all the time
Lose your dreams and you will lose your mind
Ain't life unkind?

Of course, I heard the song first by The Corrs.

Students have been dropping by the office all day to submit their assignments. One was due last Thursday, while another was supposed to be submitted yesterday, but being the nice and considerate lecturer that I am, I accepted them all. I haven’t looked at the papers, anyway.

Students’ assignments are a major source of heartache for the terrible English. I had a classmate from a French-speaking African country who spoke and wrote excellent English despite having learned the language only upon joining IIUM. The average Malaysian student has at least eleven years of English in school, but still cannot write complete, intelligible sentences; forget the grammar. Whose fault is it?

For the sake of my sanity, it’s a strong incentive not to give essay-type assignments.

Names and Numbers

Finally, I’ve finished marking the mid-semester tests. YAY! Small consolation though, as the notice is now out for submitting questions for the finals.

Dr Ruzita asked me to drive her Jazz to our two-day workshop at Awana Genting Highlands. It was my first time ever driving automatic and it didn’t help to have three ladies in the backseat criticizing.
The verdict: I’ll stick to manual transmission for now – shifting the gear up and down is half the fun in driving.

When Suapi asked me to come to Sogo last Sunday, karaoke was the last thing on my mind. Come on, Sogo, karaoke? I only figured it out when I stepped out of the elevator on the eighth floor. I should have seen it coming: Suapi = karaoke.
Lesson of the day: Again, I cannot sing.

On Monday *we* were supposed to go to Butterworth, but the trip was cancelled through a late night text message. Apparently nine equals zero and it was a no go. To be honest I was partly relieved, as waking up as early as 4 a.m. to make a 6 a.m. rendezvous at Stesen Sentral was not something I’m too excited about. But I already took the day off, so *we* met for lunch instead, and I came home with a free copy of the latest Perajurit.

Found out online the Crocodile Hunter is no more. RIP. I couldn't help to be skeptical at first, as there were rumors about his death before, but this time it was reported by all the major news agencies.

Thursday, it was sad to see Storm Large performing Wish You Were Here before leaving Rock Star: Supernova. It’s the only reality TV show I watch.

Friday, we had a farewell lunch party for Irwan, who is leaving for Ottawa on Tuesday. I played bidan terjun MC, again. We bid him good luck.

And today, I finished marking the last of the mid-semesters.

YAY!

New CD

The last time I bought an audio CD was in November 2005. It was Bryan Adam's Anthology, which came with a bonus DVD featuring a full-length concert in Lisbon. Frankly, the bonus DVD was the main reason I bought the CD. Bryan always sound better performing live than in studio recordings; unlike most of the other artists. I almost bought a few CDs after that, but didn't. Typically the stores I went to didn't have them, and I simply lost interest afterwards.

Then, last Thursday I bought Search's new Gothik Malam Edan. I love the band, love the album, but have absolutely no idea what the album title means. It comes with a bonus behind-the-scene VCD, though. Isn't it a great mystery that in 2006 publishers in this country still choose to produce VCDs, when even school children with a half-decent computer can create and burn their own DVDs?