Arin was my classmate in Form 1, 4 and 5 at MCKK. He is always seen as the guy who works behind the scene, appreciated but never got much credit. That makes him a humble person if not a great guy. Seriously, if you want things moving, work with him. Less talk, more work.

The wedding was held at Dewan Ibu Kota near Danau Kota, very close to the driving range I quite frequent. Fully air-conditioned, so no smokers nearby. Which is good, because I have this massive head ache and sore throat. I began hating smoking. It makes me feel like vomiting.

The early birds. Sedikit promo: the guy second from left and most right guy is looking. These two are quite successful in their own field. You want their contact? Gimme commission ok? (Don’t blame me, everything today needs commission.)

I love the simplicity of their alters. There’s even a lamp and a photo frame on the table! It seriously looked cool. Sorry Arin, I’ll copy this style.

So to my man Arin, have a wonderful life and good luck in your future. Godspeed.

ps: Lucky they were wearing yellow on 10th July, had it been on 9th, the police would probably rip them off to bare ass

This was the last time I wore the striking blue boot, taken during Malay College Old Boys Weekend, where we gather from all over the world, just to beat school brats. Never again I wore them, maybe because I’m too lazy.

The question I got from juniors was whether person X, Y and Z were legends?

In a normal school, those who left are never really looked upon. That’s a different story for boarding schools. I used to remember, I admired a senior who played rugby very well. He even got called up to play for Perak. Amongst us, we bicker on who can be whom, you know wannabes. Guilty, I was one too.

Anyway, I nodded to the fellow juniors. Yes, it’s true. They turned to themselves in disbelief and excited as if they shook hand with Nelson Mandela. “Gile hebat laa X, Y and Z“, came afterwards.

I knew for sure that they’ll be idolizing the seniors, slight envy grew within, I interrupted their wildest dream. I told them,

“Boys, 3 players does not make a team even if they were legends.”

They looked puzzled. I assumed they wanted me to elaborate, so I did. I told them Mokhtar Dahari was a legend, but he could never possibly make it if there was no strong support. He’s like the main cast and he needs pak pacaks too. Similar to Tun Mahathir’s parliament seats, he needs support from ministers. They nodded.

“Betul jugak kan?“, they got to thinking.

“If you want be a legend, then the whole team has to share same dream.” I left them.

I was half down the hall to the vending machine, a junior yelled from a far, “Abang, abang ni Y kan?“. I turned and smiled.

Me a legend? Pfftt.. the whole team was a legend. If they hadn’t passed the ball, there won’t be any number to write on the scoreboard. So remember this, where ever you are, even if you’re aiming to be a legend or someone respectful, you need support. Unless, you’re damn bloody talented.

ps: No HTC Desire Z for today.

pss: Picture courtesy of Munzir Photography, thanks to abdusfauzi.

I don’t deny that most of us (from my secondary school) exaggerate adjectives and nouns. It makes it more dramatic and appealing. Adding more color to emphasize the sentence. Another classic example,

C*LANAT SEDAP GILE ICE CREAM NI!

But then again, some might misinterpret. And by rogol, I mean wrestle. Not stick something in her. I guess it’s only safe to use it among ourselves (among my secondary school mates).

ps: Why do I keep forgetting to write about my badminton racquet?

A place where we don’t get wedgy because couldn’t afford undies. The place where everything moves slowly, including the buses and cabs. And water, that flows slower than an average human pee (at peak hour).

Yes, I’m going back to MCKK, next month. But I’m broke.

But the best part is, my pay check is guaranteed. Despite being an over achiever, I still get lectured by my superior. I guess he didn’t want me to be complacent.

It’s been 10 years since I left school. Where I am now? Did I get what I day dreamed of every single day? Is this what I always wanted? The answer is, no. But then again, you can’t possibly have everything flowing your way, can you?

Deep down, I am lucky that I was raised in a town called Kuala Kangsar and dealing with crap became my forte.

ps: Nak cendol Kuale~

I logged on to facebook and twitter, searching for latest updates from friends and family. *BAM* a news struck me hard. I learned of a friend’s death. Knowing these group of boys, I thought they were playing around, it turns out, it was real. Made a few calls to justify my curious soul. Sadly, the answer will never change no matter how I changed the question.

Pondar (Azil Afiq) is not your typical friend. He’s playful and goofy. He lights up the room with his funny stunts and gestures. Loud as he may seem, he is one of those people who’d hide his sadness from others. Pondar is far from selfish, he’d share his grubs during stay ups and would sell his Maggie at reasonable price.

Pondar was a rugby player, he was the hooker, he was my team mate. Though slightly round, he is determined enough to complete 10 laps everyday although at slower pace. Like any other rugby players, his loyalties belong to his team mates. I remembered him sheltering me from being bulldozed by the opponent. He’d ask, “Eddie, kau ok?”. Built tough, sweet inside.

After 5 years at MCKK, I hardly see him. But I knew he was somewhere out there, having the time of his life. Living with no regrets. It saddens me, that our friendship never extended to our kins.

Pondar, I’m sorry if I ever threw nasty words at you. Thank you being a great friend and a wonderful brother. You will be dearly missed.

Note: Pondar was caught in a motorcycle accident and was buried on 20th December 2009, 11 am.

ps: I’d knew I’d feel the pain after writing this down.

pss: To those who’s riding on daily basis, please be extra careful.

Breathe in, breathe out. This is it. This is the time to rise and shine. This is what I’ve been training for, for the last 3 years.

Remember how you used to do 1,500 sit ups per day? Remember how you used to do push up 1,000 per day? Remember all the running, endlessly? Remember that pylometrics move you did earnestly every single day after rugby training? And people usually had to stop you for dinner? Not to mentioned those calling you crazy?

Yes, I do.

“Loosen up a bit”. The coach (more like manager, as I coached myself) shouted from afar. “No pressure”, he added.

Yeah right! If he was next to me, I’d park my foot up his ass.

On your mark! Everyone got on their lane, excessively trying to lock a perfect footing for the startup. I was still starring at my toes, wondering if I could ever pull this through.

It was the Men’s 100m Final (district level). On my right was the Perak runner, left was the runner-up. I’m sandwiched between two giants. I felt so small. At times like these, I wished they added IQ test on top of sprinting. Unfortunately, it’s a race of the fittest and fastest.

Locking my foot carefully, not to get tied to the staring block. I double checked just to be sure, trying my best to delay the start and pile the pressure on my neighbors.

Get set… The sweet serenity of Kuala Kangsar’s air suddenly became dense. The sky went dark, the crowds were at the edge of their seats.

POW! The gun went off.

Everything shuts down, except for my medulla oblangata. Adrenaline rushed in and out of my muscles. The next second, I was leading the pack. If only it was a 10 meter race, I would’ve been wearing the gold medal by then. Unfortunately Eddie, the race has just begun.

Slowly yet surely, both left and right runner were out-pacing me. No thanks to their genes (and maybe luck).

Half way down the lane, the three of us were side by side, shoulder to shoulder. (More like shoulder to neck, I am a little shorter than them). We were already at top speed. Everything went by so fast. It was pure ecstasy. If you ask any 100m runner, what is the hardest thing to do? It’ll definitely be maintaining top-speed. Yes, I too struggled at that time, so were my competitions.

This meter they took the lead, the next I snatched from the them. It was like 3 kids fighting over the same candy.

80m mark. We were still head to head. Having to run 100m for the past 3 years, I have developed an ultimate plan, or mind set. This is where you imagine something precious is falling and you need to catch it before it hits the ground. I imagined my mom.

At the end of the line, I dived. Plunging myself through the air and into the ground and pretty much smashed my face. I had nothing left to give and that pretty much was the last push of the day.

Laying down, looking at the sky, I know and I admitted, I lost. I finished forth.

Still laying down, I crossed my feet, tucked my palms under my head, just like a mat-salleh enjoying his last day of summer and closed my eyes. I wanted to burst in tears but some part of my anatomy told me not to. It wasn’t ego. It was empathy. Of wanting others to excel before you.

I knew it there and then, I wasn’t the only one giving my best. I’m sure the rest did.

As I dragged my feet across the hall to my dormitory, a few batch mates asked about the result. “Kenape tak bole menang bro?” they fired a difficult question. Still exhausted and moody, I replied,”sebab aku yang lari, bukan kau. Kalau kau lari mesti menang!“. Pun, very much intended.

* * *

A few months later, I learned the gold and silver medalist won state’s level. No surprise really, because that day, I clocked 11.03 secs. It was my personal best.

Quote: Reasoning won’t help you win.

To this day, whenever I lost something, be it business opportunity, turned down job offer or having girl troubles, I’d recall this painful memory. And you have to admit, some things are just meant to be.

ps: Thanks AzmanIshak sebab lepak pastu belanje aku teh-tarik. Khamis ni Qiilans87 plak blanje MekDi. Bestnye buat theme free!

On our way back to grandma’s, we were tipped to get a Songkok for my youngest brother, who conveniently dejected Giants (yes, the hyper mart) brand. Lucky him.

While I was looking for a good shot through the tiny viewfinder, my lens pecked a familiar face. I lowered my camera.

“APAII!” I cried out loud, hogging everyone’s attention.

“EDDIE!” Apai made his way through the crowds and jumped in my face. It’s been years since we last met. All this while, Apai would call me and we chatted for a good hour or so. (Kinda feel guilty for not returning the favor).

His brother and mine looked at us, probably wonder why we were so high spirited. If there’s anyone in the world who can change a sad movie to a highly enthusiastic motivational talk, that would be Apai. With Apai, every single sentence must end with an exclamation mark, that includes asking whereabouts

“Apai, pose for me!” and so he did.

So if you’re wondering who is Apai? He’s the one that guards our National Airspace. Nice to see you in great shape.

ps: More Eid post?

I was taking my sweet time browsing through the answer of “Himpunan Kertas Soalan PMR Geografi“. Not that I was lazy, but I completed it more than twice, months before the exam. (Yes, I was a nerd).

A black figure walked up to me. I couldn’t careless. I’m sure he had some business with my desk mate. He grabbed my fore arm and shook me. Hard enough to brush off everything on my desk. I took my earphone off, I looked up and saw Apai.

“Eddie, AKU BOLEH 8A TAK?” asking at the top of his lung.

F*ck. I almost lost my temper but I remained calm, “Boleh Apai.”

“KITE SAME² BOLEH 8A KAN?” there he go again, his enthusiasm/guts annoys me. “Ko bole blah ?”, I struck an unpleasant tone.

He looked upon me curling up his puppy eyes and said,”Kau marah ke Eddie?”

“Eh, tak lah!… aku gembire gile!”.

Then he continued for another 5 minutes apologizing for stirring up a commotion. I wanted him out of my face as soon as possible. I need to finish memorizing this before night class ends. And having Apai around certainly doesn’t help.

Truth be told, we had many annoying members in our batch. Apai would easily ranked top 10. But that was then, 11 years ago. I was a kid, he was a child. We were both young and immature, still in search of oneself.

****

Yesterday, as I flipped through Berita Harian I saw a familiar name, it was Apai’s.

It struck me. I miss this guy. I miss his annoying enthusiasm. I wish we could spare some time to catch up while sipping teh tarik.

Apai, who was then in Austin, Texas, would occasionally call and tell me about his experience. We’d spend hours talking until he ran out of battery or credit. If girls have girl’s talk, so do boys.

Anyway, here’s a toast to Apai, who ditched the modern slave’s life and became a pilot, to protect us from threats. (I thought you’d be an awesome lawyer).

Thank you, and this post is for you.

ps: Apai, AKU DAPAT 8A!!!!! (hahaha)

It was a blast. Total turn out, 70 including ladies. I’m sadden by the fact that many names on the list didn’t make it. We had to pay for these heads. Kenapelah susahkan member sendiri?

I didn’t enjoy myself much. I was working silently and making sure everything was in order. By the time I settled down, everyone was making their way out. Not much laugh or talk yesterday. Have to admit, I miss those deep conversations.

I thank fqrl, fadli, riq, zaaba, ptt, izrin and many unnamed soldiers for putting much effort into the dinner.

And today, I slept for a good 12 hours. Woke up and ate pizza, and continued for another solid 4 hours.

I woke up at 8pm feeling lost, disoriented and little depressed. I should’ve spent my Sunday doing something other than sleeping (like washing car or work).

16 hours of sleep, now I need some drugs to knock some sense.

ps: Kene Qada semua solat

It was hot weekend in circa 1997. I was lying on the lower bunker bed, burying my face on Dragon Ball comic. An annoying voice struck the air, “Jagung bakar, lapan posen, Isnin dapat” as he enters the dorm.

I promptly got out of bed and made my name on the list.

Being boys, we’re always hungry. Plus jagung bakar was never on Kuala Kangsar’s menu. A chance like this is hardly a miss.

As Monday school ends, I rushed to find M, the Jagung seller. “Jagung aku mane?”, I asked. M replied, “Lepas games hour (6.30pm)”.

“Bro, jagung aku mane?”. M replied, “Lepas prep malam (11.00pm)”.

As night falls and reading Dragon Ball for the 17th time, I went searching for M. I really want that jagung.

“Jagung?” the question gets shorter, so was my temper. It continued for a few days, and M would give another time or day.

One day, M announced that his supplier couldn’t deliver and monies were being refunded. Somehow, I never got mine. I am very certain, I wasn’t the only victim. Not to be stingy, but those days, 80 sen could really fill ones tummy.

From that day onwards, when ever I crossed path with M, the common ice breaking would either be, “Jagung?” or “Duit jagung?” (on or off MCKK). Even the ones who never ordered used the line.

Up till today, whenever we mentioned M, the thought of juicy butter soaked grill corn came to mind and how depressing it felt. ‘Jagung‘ is now commonly associated with the term Judas, the one who bails out on plans. Fong Fey Kei (FFK) in Cantonese.

M is now a happily married (his invitation was never extended to us, fear of jagung) and a doctor for Ministry of Defense.

Despite his happy ending, I still want my jagung.

ps: This took 2 hours! Gosh, back to work Ed!

The line up. Above 35 (age and waist) versus MCKK Under 15 match like I mentioned in my previous post. Expect more pictures.

Player’s pep talk and deciding which position to play.

Lifting trial. He had his eyes on the prize.

Game on the way. I wonder why I ran/pose like a girl.

Anticipating the pass. Still, looked like a girl. Maybe it’s the light blue boots.

Dashing to the line. It took 3 players to bring down this old horse. The old guy following me is older than dad.

Bulu eventually got to the line. His eagerness to score killed the kids.

Click to view other photo.

We won by 31-0. The challenge every year is to not let the kids score. In that aspect, we succeeded.

It was supposed to be an Above 35 (waist or age) team, I am certainly not 35 year old, nor do I have a 35 waist line. I’m somewhere along 29-30. But I used to be in 36 inch pants. I guess sometimes they can make an exemption.

Pics taken on 18 April 2009 by Munzir.

ps: What’s the point of missing someone who’s not missing you?

Friday, I drove dad to Ipoh for his golf thingy and continued my way up to Kuala Kangsar. Along the way, I reminisced my journey back on the bus 9 years ago. It was dreadful and hot. I wished something would happen to the bus, and find myself back to KL. I never enjoyed my trip back to KK. Tide has changed, I couldn’t wait to get there except, it was still dreadful and hot.

I arrived at about 6pm. Ran along the booths and got myself a tshirt. Laksa came after that with Life4Hire and Callister.

2 hours later, I found myself surrounded by a group of older boys (easily doubles my age). I didn’t have much option, either talk to juniors (which I felt guilty for not remembering their names) or super seniors. The latter was much preferable.

We talk for about 4 hours (I listened intently most of the time) until Meba & Aneipe arrived. Quick supper and off to bed.

I couldn’t get any sleep. I blame my screwed sleep cycle, the uneasy dorm, spongy mattress and of course, the loud snores. How in the world I survived 5 years in a boarding school?

Saturday, I woke up at 3pm (LoL) and rushed to cendoi~ It’s still a bliss after all these years.

Time to shine! 430 pm, I was on the field warming up for a rugby match. It was a handicap game, Above 35 (age and waist) against Under 15 (age). I used to wear 36, somehow I shrunk to 29. Yes, I am qualified to wear that jersey.

I got my ass whopped by Wooer (57 year old), physically. I didn’t really see what happened, but I know Wooer headbutted my ass. It sores every time I’m seated.

We won 27 – 0. I scored a try under the post and a conversion.

Dinner was held at Medan Pelajar and the concert was pretty ok. It was a long day, everyone went to bed early (including me).

Sunday 9am, rugby kick off. We (old boys) lost the game. The last time old boys lost was back in 2000. The game ended with 12-15. I wanted to gear up, but I wasn’t fit enough. I’ll make my comeback next year.

Thought it wasn’t as exciting as it used to be, I sure did enjoy myself.

Big questions struck on the way back to KL, what’s old boys weekend all about? Why do MCKK get overly excited about it? How do I explain this to non MCKK?

It’s not about Pride, Passion or Tradition. It’s about reliving a 17 year old life. I’m sure you’d need that once a year.

ps: I shipped a parcel 2 weeks back, I’m glad it arrives. (will write about it)

pss: Thanks Shayyum for the logo and keep up the good work! You looked restless.

We offer our youth,
To the world we build,
With courage and truth,
And love fulfilled.

A city will rise,
That is bright and fair,
Into cloudless skies,
And fresh clean air.

Proudly we’ll serve,
With faith will strain,
Muscle and nerve,
And heart and brain.

‘til wisdom descends,
like a silver dove,
‘til evil ends,
and the law is love.

Can you reflect that onto yourself?

Do me a favor, hardcode that onto your head, while you’re still useful to the society. Don’t wake up in your 70′s and tell yourself “I should’ve done better“.

That is not a poem, it’s a song. More precisely the MCKK anthem until 1971. Anthony Burgess wrote it for MCKK’s Golden Jubilee (50th) in 1954.

Speaking of MCKK, I was invited to President’s Night. The attire, sharp Bond suit, which I hate wearing. Oh well, time to print out those name cards again.

I couldn’t resist to camwhore when Camus pointed a Nikon D3 in my face. I look kacak. Yeah, it’s the hair-do. I can introduce you to the barber, but you’ll point to my head while saying, “I want that awesome haircut.” That wouldn’t make me unique would I? So no, I won’t take you to the shop

ps: Gosh Ed, I know that shirt is comfortable, get a new one please! It’s got bleach all over it!

We must learn to live together as brothers or perish together as fools. – King Martin Jr. Luther.

So 13 years, We’ve been through all,
Through thick and thin, papers and walls.

No matter who, what, where or why,
We held each other and break the tide.

We’re now doctors, lawyers and engineers,
Looking back, we did falter, but it doesn’t matter.

Because we’re brothers,
For 13 years, pushing another.

Happy Birthday 9600.

5th December 1995 – 5th December 2008. Time sure flies.

ps: Sorry, 5 minutes poem. Don’t have time to brush it up.

pss: Picture credit to Pondar and whoever I stole those pictures from.

psss: 13 years ago, my parents left me in small town in Perak. What a sad sight.

pssss: 13 years later, I want to go back but too busy with life. What a sad sight.

Yesterday, I bought an All-In-One printer (AiO). It’s been ages since I sought for one. The last one was BCJ-2000SP, a very famous Canon model. It’s still working but I never liked the way it’s oddly shaped, prone to collect dust.

So anyway, I started clearing out my desk to make room for the new found love. I scanned my old notes in the process.

Control System, year 2 Engineering, only 4 pieces of paper. I couldn’t find my ‘toyol’ a.k.a. cheat sheet. It’s only 1 page summing everything above.

FAQ:

1. Did your gf write them for you? No.
2. It’s so small, can you read it? Yes.
3. Did anyone make a copy? I think so.
4. Did you score the subject? No. I overslept and missed the exam
5. Why do you choose to compress the notes? Less is more, more is less, more or less.
6. The main reason to short hand your note. To save trees and be a cheapskate.
7. Exam’s over, why don’t you throw it away? I spent hours writing this, do you think I’ll let it go to waste?
8. Then go recycle! No. The memories intact is priceless.
9. How old is the notes? 6 years.

I’m glad I’m through with engineering, I didn’t like it in the first place.

ps: Not going to blog about my niece. It’ll only invite the get-married-lah-eddie! in me.