Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Thursday, February 04, 2010
Dignity in An Egg
Have you ever been to one of those motivational camps, where you are given an egg and asked to hold on to it for the rest of the camp? Then, the facilitators or so rightfully shortened into, "Fasis" (hah!) would punish those who did not manage to guard their eggs and then, explain that it is their dignity that the participants have let go of.
A f***ing egg as the symbol of my dignity? So fragile, such foul-smelling creature and a rotten imagery of colours. It is all gelled up together, dripping everywhere when broken, with dried chicken poop covering the egg shell. And that is my dignity?
If there is something that metaphorically should stand as a symbol of my dignity, itc would aptly be a diamond- solid, shiny and almost translucent. Yes, it needs years to be formed but once it's there, it's unbreakable and cuts through steel like nobody's business.. Now, that's a woman's worth!
So if you hear of any camps that has diamonds, give me a buzz.
On a slightly different note, I am an advocate of self-motivation and I don't believe that some nerdy guy with a nasal voice who wears his pants high up to waist can tell me what I need to do to succeed. It comes from within and you seek God's help for that light. You don't need a middleman for that, seriously...
A f***ing egg as the symbol of my dignity? So fragile, such foul-smelling creature and a rotten imagery of colours. It is all gelled up together, dripping everywhere when broken, with dried chicken poop covering the egg shell. And that is my dignity?
If there is something that metaphorically should stand as a symbol of my dignity, itc would aptly be a diamond- solid, shiny and almost translucent. Yes, it needs years to be formed but once it's there, it's unbreakable and cuts through steel like nobody's business.. Now, that's a woman's worth!
So if you hear of any camps that has diamonds, give me a buzz.
On a slightly different note, I am an advocate of self-motivation and I don't believe that some nerdy guy with a nasal voice who wears his pants high up to waist can tell me what I need to do to succeed. It comes from within and you seek God's help for that light. You don't need a middleman for that, seriously...
Wednesday, February 03, 2010
Linen of Time
I faded UNDER the linen of time,
When all that would MEAN is losing me,
Hold on, I have NEVER found me,
I have NEVER even searched for me,
I figured that time do CAST a spell,
And bewitches souls that CHANGE for none,
Of all the belittling GLARE under revered eyes,
Though I was ONCE a king, warrior, defender,
But as time blankets the CYCLE of life,
I am neither there NOR here now,
And I Hold My Breath Under The Linen of Time...
For Tut(1341BC-1324BC)
When all that would MEAN is losing me,
Hold on, I have NEVER found me,
I have NEVER even searched for me,
I figured that time do CAST a spell,
And bewitches souls that CHANGE for none,
Of all the belittling GLARE under revered eyes,
Though I was ONCE a king, warrior, defender,
But as time blankets the CYCLE of life,
I am neither there NOR here now,
And I Hold My Breath Under The Linen of Time...
For Tut(1341BC-1324BC)
Saturday, November 07, 2009
The Secret
The grey-haired doctor shuffled through my chart, searching for words to explain his own uncertainties to a bewildered man in front of him. His pockmarked forehead was crinkled by lines of confusion as though asserting my suspicions that whatever was happening to me, it was definitely not one of a normal occurrence. While he puts on his thick glasses, he cleared his throat nervously and his eyes glide across the current sheet he was referring to before they rested intently on me. The air of the small white consultation room located at the end of the second floor of this recently privatised hospital was choking me along with his deep gaze.
“So, you have been experiencing this blood vomiting for almost a month?”
“Yes… Indeed. It has been exactly 29 days but no one can ever tell me what is wrong with me. I can handle anything so just tell me, doc”
He could sense my desperation for the truth through that quiver in my voice yet there was little he can say. He relayed an answer given by all the medical practitioners I have visited in the past month which is “We could not find anything wrong with you”. I got on my feet and turned my back on the doctor who was still perplexed with his own inability to determine my disease despite being highly recognised as the best in his field. Well, to me, he was only my 5th doctor who brought me nothing but further qualms of my condition. It seemed fruitless then to enquire further because I knew that I would only be further subjected to a series of inconclusive tests.
I dragged myself along with my thoughts back to my village. It was a silent journey of bus changes and taxi mounting before I had to take the humble roads that could only be traversed by feet. The moon was overtaking the sun as my torch and when I was at the edge of the village, my limp was slightly emphasised as I strolled hastily past Nek Bidah’s lavish abode that would be fitting for kings of yesteryears. Nevertheless, Nek Bidah would still know I am here. She always does, doesn’t she?
“Rosman, why are you walking so fast? Don’t you want to come to say hi to this old lady?” cried a coarse voice affected by many years of tobacco addiction.
I turned around to face the 107 year old woman who was flashing her perfect teeth to me in an evil grin. As soon as I saw her unbelievably smooth, olive skinned face, the urge to vomit overwhelmed me again as always when I pass by in front of this house. A light bulb was switched on in my head. Yes! It has always been right here, when I was going by in front of this house daily after work that I would throw up pools of blood. My head spun like a spinning top. My twenty-year-old frame could not take it anymore. Inadvertently, I had to stoop and give in to the offensive impulse yet another time.
I could feel her long nailed fingers rubbing my back, easing me during the process of discarding the unwanted off me. I could smell the fragrant jasmine that always adorns her hair without fail all these years as I grew up watching her. Nek Bidah is a cousin of my great grandmother but they have never been on the same page ever since Nek Bidah married a shaman who practiced black magic in my village. I also heard through the grapevines that Nek Bidah killed her own husband about 50 years ago as she developed the burning desire to become better than he was in sorcery. With that, she became one and she was rather famed across the country for her ability to dispel one from the surface of the Earth with a snap of her fingers. I suddenly got the chills when I realised those are the same fingers trying to relieve me from my misery.
I wanted to leap free from her but oddly, I felt relaxed and at ease with her. I turned to look at her and I almost fell out of horror. With bubbles frothing from her mouth, Nek Bidah was chanting what seemed like gibberish I could not comprehend with her blood shot eyes popping out from their socket. Realising my terror, she grabbed my right hand with her left hand firmly and held my neck with her other free one. Her vigor was so tremendous for a woman her age that I was lifted off the ground and was gasping for my breath. My hands were all over the place, reaching out for hope of being saved that seemed like a thing with feathers right now. I felt as if I would die in another few seconds so instinctively, I said a few prayers to God.
At the very instant, she let go of me and shrieked as if she was burning in flames. She rolled on my vomit that has become a puddle on the sandy ground and she was scratching her own face with her nails until it was bleeding. I was under a sense of shock and fled from the scene immediately. While running away, I glanced behind me to see Nek Bidah was writhing on the ground and shouting profanities. With my new found courage and strength, I darted off like a cheetah towards my own house at the other end of my ancient village. My heart was pounding with the intensity of my own speed and as I reached the veranda of my house, I fainted on the floor.
In the headlines the next day:
“A 107 year old woman was found dead in a horrifying state in Kampung Danau, Kuantan yesterday. The deceased was identified as Bidahtun Thajuddin who has been living alone for the past 50 years and is said to have no direct heir or next of kin to claim her body at the nearest hospital. Anyone who has any information about the death could notify the nearest police station as it is a suspected homicide”
Mother was dabbing some Axe brand oil on my forehead and lamenting on about how Nek Bidah was looking for someone to inherit her “saka” or guardian devil that has been taking care of her possessions all this while. The only reason why she has lived for more than a century was because she could not find a new master for the devil who lives on its master’s fresh blood. Mother recalled that the devil would have to devour the blood for 30 days and then, it will obey everything its new master says.
I was on a whirlwind of emotions. I just lost my voice and looked at my bruised hand, wondering what would have happened otherwise.
“So, you have been experiencing this blood vomiting for almost a month?”
“Yes… Indeed. It has been exactly 29 days but no one can ever tell me what is wrong with me. I can handle anything so just tell me, doc”
He could sense my desperation for the truth through that quiver in my voice yet there was little he can say. He relayed an answer given by all the medical practitioners I have visited in the past month which is “We could not find anything wrong with you”. I got on my feet and turned my back on the doctor who was still perplexed with his own inability to determine my disease despite being highly recognised as the best in his field. Well, to me, he was only my 5th doctor who brought me nothing but further qualms of my condition. It seemed fruitless then to enquire further because I knew that I would only be further subjected to a series of inconclusive tests.
I dragged myself along with my thoughts back to my village. It was a silent journey of bus changes and taxi mounting before I had to take the humble roads that could only be traversed by feet. The moon was overtaking the sun as my torch and when I was at the edge of the village, my limp was slightly emphasised as I strolled hastily past Nek Bidah’s lavish abode that would be fitting for kings of yesteryears. Nevertheless, Nek Bidah would still know I am here. She always does, doesn’t she?
“Rosman, why are you walking so fast? Don’t you want to come to say hi to this old lady?” cried a coarse voice affected by many years of tobacco addiction.
I turned around to face the 107 year old woman who was flashing her perfect teeth to me in an evil grin. As soon as I saw her unbelievably smooth, olive skinned face, the urge to vomit overwhelmed me again as always when I pass by in front of this house. A light bulb was switched on in my head. Yes! It has always been right here, when I was going by in front of this house daily after work that I would throw up pools of blood. My head spun like a spinning top. My twenty-year-old frame could not take it anymore. Inadvertently, I had to stoop and give in to the offensive impulse yet another time.
I could feel her long nailed fingers rubbing my back, easing me during the process of discarding the unwanted off me. I could smell the fragrant jasmine that always adorns her hair without fail all these years as I grew up watching her. Nek Bidah is a cousin of my great grandmother but they have never been on the same page ever since Nek Bidah married a shaman who practiced black magic in my village. I also heard through the grapevines that Nek Bidah killed her own husband about 50 years ago as she developed the burning desire to become better than he was in sorcery. With that, she became one and she was rather famed across the country for her ability to dispel one from the surface of the Earth with a snap of her fingers. I suddenly got the chills when I realised those are the same fingers trying to relieve me from my misery.
I wanted to leap free from her but oddly, I felt relaxed and at ease with her. I turned to look at her and I almost fell out of horror. With bubbles frothing from her mouth, Nek Bidah was chanting what seemed like gibberish I could not comprehend with her blood shot eyes popping out from their socket. Realising my terror, she grabbed my right hand with her left hand firmly and held my neck with her other free one. Her vigor was so tremendous for a woman her age that I was lifted off the ground and was gasping for my breath. My hands were all over the place, reaching out for hope of being saved that seemed like a thing with feathers right now. I felt as if I would die in another few seconds so instinctively, I said a few prayers to God.
At the very instant, she let go of me and shrieked as if she was burning in flames. She rolled on my vomit that has become a puddle on the sandy ground and she was scratching her own face with her nails until it was bleeding. I was under a sense of shock and fled from the scene immediately. While running away, I glanced behind me to see Nek Bidah was writhing on the ground and shouting profanities. With my new found courage and strength, I darted off like a cheetah towards my own house at the other end of my ancient village. My heart was pounding with the intensity of my own speed and as I reached the veranda of my house, I fainted on the floor.
In the headlines the next day:
“A 107 year old woman was found dead in a horrifying state in Kampung Danau, Kuantan yesterday. The deceased was identified as Bidahtun Thajuddin who has been living alone for the past 50 years and is said to have no direct heir or next of kin to claim her body at the nearest hospital. Anyone who has any information about the death could notify the nearest police station as it is a suspected homicide”
Mother was dabbing some Axe brand oil on my forehead and lamenting on about how Nek Bidah was looking for someone to inherit her “saka” or guardian devil that has been taking care of her possessions all this while. The only reason why she has lived for more than a century was because she could not find a new master for the devil who lives on its master’s fresh blood. Mother recalled that the devil would have to devour the blood for 30 days and then, it will obey everything its new master says.
I was on a whirlwind of emotions. I just lost my voice and looked at my bruised hand, wondering what would have happened otherwise.
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Aduhai Anak-Anak Aku
This is very disappointing but I just discovered that one of my colleagues has been a serious victim of slander among students. What more, they were boys. She was said to be asking personal question as she was supposedly so desperate and interested in finding a boyfriend. To add salt to wound, the boy who started this calumny was actually someone who was considerably close to my colleague.
Bois, bois.. You guys continue to give us reasons to change our perception on all of you. Why do you have to be so bad mouthed? Foul in the language that you use to talk about your teachers? Even though you don't say it directly to her, it still brings the same defamatory effect to her. I know her and I know she is happy with her current life. She doesn't need anyone's brothers as a boyfriend.
Freaking 16 year olds yet still very much immature. Addressing teachers with just their names behind the teachers back. "Eh, Ana Shirin dah sampai ke?" Kau ingat kitaorang ni adik-adik kau?
I can only guess what they will talk behind my back but just know that we crack our heads and hearts in the continuous effort to give you the best. If you guys continue to break it needlessly, it is not impossible that you can deter our spirits to teach. I might peter out because of you guys.
Bois, bois.. You guys continue to give us reasons to change our perception on all of you. Why do you have to be so bad mouthed? Foul in the language that you use to talk about your teachers? Even though you don't say it directly to her, it still brings the same defamatory effect to her. I know her and I know she is happy with her current life. She doesn't need anyone's brothers as a boyfriend.
Freaking 16 year olds yet still very much immature. Addressing teachers with just their names behind the teachers back. "Eh, Ana Shirin dah sampai ke?" Kau ingat kitaorang ni adik-adik kau?
I can only guess what they will talk behind my back but just know that we crack our heads and hearts in the continuous effort to give you the best. If you guys continue to break it needlessly, it is not impossible that you can deter our spirits to teach. I might peter out because of you guys.
Monday, October 26, 2009
A Change is Gonna Come
An attention seeker, I am... Attention giver, you are.
To all my form four students, the blog for ALL of you is now here. I just figured that there is no sense to have two separate blogs for one sole purpose. Don't be lazy, go there now.
Anyhow, mates.. What happened to Much Ado?? Come on, let's spice it up again!
To all my form four students, the blog for ALL of you is now here. I just figured that there is no sense to have two separate blogs for one sole purpose. Don't be lazy, go there now.
Anyhow, mates.. What happened to Much Ado?? Come on, let's spice it up again!
Blogging to Blog
This house believes that all teachers should have a blog.
I'm now in a Latihan Dalam Perkhidmatan (LADAP) on how to build a blog. Woaaah, I feel so high-tech all of the sudden. I know what some people need courses for.. Hehehe
Alamak, that was counted as a brag, no? Takpa, takpa, no one likes a know-all. I'll just pretend that I don't know a thing about the topic. Maybe that can make more people to be relaxed, especially moi who is half-smirking at the poorly functioning LCD projector.
This blog has been a great avenue for people to get to know me, do I want more to do so? eerrmm.. n
Motion: Denied
I'm now in a Latihan Dalam Perkhidmatan (LADAP) on how to build a blog. Woaaah, I feel so high-tech all of the sudden. I know what some people need courses for.. Hehehe
Alamak, that was counted as a brag, no? Takpa, takpa, no one likes a know-all. I'll just pretend that I don't know a thing about the topic. Maybe that can make more people to be relaxed, especially moi who is half-smirking at the poorly functioning LCD projector.
This blog has been a great avenue for people to get to know me, do I want more to do so? eerrmm.. n
Motion: Denied
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Mind Crunching
Papadom is probably one of the best thing ever invented in the world. Something spicy yet crunchy. It's versatile as it goes with most Malay+Indian cuisines and it's almost everyone's cup of tea.
Same goes to the movie which borrows that Malaysian household name, Papadom by Afdlin Shauki. With the exception of SumoLah, I have never missed out on any Afdlin's movie (either as a cast or a director) and although Papadom is not my absolute favourite, the movie has succeeded in trying to achieve its objective and pass on the message. After I finished watching it, I thought of texting my loved ones to say I love them because I don't know when I would lose them. Alas, my battery was almost out so I decided to do it later (which I never got around to, of course)
Liyana Jasmay was a bit errmmm.. well, childish for my liking but I guess that is because her character requires her to be a bit manja (I know she's a talented actress but I think she had a much, much better performance in Histeria by James Lee). Que Haidar is probably my favourite person in this movie, adding another highly-characterised role under his belt. Wajib Tayang is, indeed, the epitome of all losers who are winners.
When you watch the movie and see how the cinematography was brilliantly coupled with ingenious story telling, a normal, typical tale comes to life in what feels like your own family crisis yet a bit detached so that you can be objective and pick up the moral values signal they are cleverly transmitting to you. Love and appreciate your love ones but allow them the opportunity to be free and make their own mistakes.
I think it's not too late to text all those people in my life now...
Same goes to the movie which borrows that Malaysian household name, Papadom by Afdlin Shauki. With the exception of SumoLah, I have never missed out on any Afdlin's movie (either as a cast or a director) and although Papadom is not my absolute favourite, the movie has succeeded in trying to achieve its objective and pass on the message. After I finished watching it, I thought of texting my loved ones to say I love them because I don't know when I would lose them. Alas, my battery was almost out so I decided to do it later (which I never got around to, of course)
Liyana Jasmay was a bit errmmm.. well, childish for my liking but I guess that is because her character requires her to be a bit manja (I know she's a talented actress but I think she had a much, much better performance in Histeria by James Lee). Que Haidar is probably my favourite person in this movie, adding another highly-characterised role under his belt. Wajib Tayang is, indeed, the epitome of all losers who are winners.
When you watch the movie and see how the cinematography was brilliantly coupled with ingenious story telling, a normal, typical tale comes to life in what feels like your own family crisis yet a bit detached so that you can be objective and pick up the moral values signal they are cleverly transmitting to you. Love and appreciate your love ones but allow them the opportunity to be free and make their own mistakes.
I think it's not too late to text all those people in my life now...
Go With The Flow
But how if the flow is slow? Absolutely slow and you feel that you need to give it a push. Really, really give it a push...
I have taught where I have been teaching for about 10 months and I wish that I could literally push the kids from one place to another. Moving from the lab to the class is when they take the opportunity to take a stroll in the park, causing teachers to wait 10-15 minutes for them to come in. And not an inch of regret is shown on their face, as if I should be alright with them coming in late.
For me, I try to be as punctual as I can with the teaching periods and would usually reach at least two minutes beforehand. I think that is one way to show that you look forward to teaching and you appreciate the students. Sadly, it's not mutual. They probably never looked forward to learning anything.
The students like to complain about the administrators and the system but they themselves do not realise that they are one of the reasons why the system is as such. Slow as a snail, sleeping during prep time and they say they have given their best. Their best, my foot. No wonder they are not achieving.
I studied in a normal daily school which some of these students look down upon but I think I have learnt to be more human and in constant hunger for excellence. I have learnt to be independent and not under appreciate all those that my teacher has given me. The papers I photostated, the notes I've produced, the activities I thought of..
Next year, I am going to teach like all those other teachers. Buy a freaking workbook and finish it up.
I have taught where I have been teaching for about 10 months and I wish that I could literally push the kids from one place to another. Moving from the lab to the class is when they take the opportunity to take a stroll in the park, causing teachers to wait 10-15 minutes for them to come in. And not an inch of regret is shown on their face, as if I should be alright with them coming in late.
For me, I try to be as punctual as I can with the teaching periods and would usually reach at least two minutes beforehand. I think that is one way to show that you look forward to teaching and you appreciate the students. Sadly, it's not mutual. They probably never looked forward to learning anything.
The students like to complain about the administrators and the system but they themselves do not realise that they are one of the reasons why the system is as such. Slow as a snail, sleeping during prep time and they say they have given their best. Their best, my foot. No wonder they are not achieving.
I studied in a normal daily school which some of these students look down upon but I think I have learnt to be more human and in constant hunger for excellence. I have learnt to be independent and not under appreciate all those that my teacher has given me. The papers I photostated, the notes I've produced, the activities I thought of..
Next year, I am going to teach like all those other teachers. Buy a freaking workbook and finish it up.
Demeaning The Meanie
Do you happen to know some people who have some kind of inferiority complex and try to overcome it by looking down on you? They ask questions in a degrading way, for example:
"Ewwww, you pakai ke baju ni keluar jalan-jalan kat KL? Kalau I, I tak pakai."
This is just one of those nasty comments when you bought something just recently and you kinda like it, in fact you know it looks good on you. But they just continuously try to make you question yourself. Sometimes, you ask them a question and they make this puzzled, your-question-is-incomprehensible face. Kenapa ya? Rasa bagus sangat ka?
After knowing my awesome friends who have been in my life for between 6-13 years, all these new people I meet are starting to get on my nerves so much so that I cringe seeing their faces daily. All those backstabbing, bitching and talking...
It just made me realise that I love my friends (Nin, Durs, Sya, Mi, Bil, Cap) too much, there's no match for their patience and love.
"Ewwww, you pakai ke baju ni keluar jalan-jalan kat KL? Kalau I, I tak pakai."
This is just one of those nasty comments when you bought something just recently and you kinda like it, in fact you know it looks good on you. But they just continuously try to make you question yourself. Sometimes, you ask them a question and they make this puzzled, your-question-is-incomprehensible face. Kenapa ya? Rasa bagus sangat ka?
After knowing my awesome friends who have been in my life for between 6-13 years, all these new people I meet are starting to get on my nerves so much so that I cringe seeing their faces daily. All those backstabbing, bitching and talking...
It just made me realise that I love my friends (Nin, Durs, Sya, Mi, Bil, Cap) too much, there's no match for their patience and love.
Wednesday, October 07, 2009
Thursday, October 01, 2009
Realising The Mistakes We Make...
When we are able to make choices and be all we wanted, we become as obsessed as we would be with any new fixation. We always try to find new endeavours to challenge ourselves and optimistic with all the positive callings in life.
But sometimes, we forget that we do all these choices without taking into consideration all the people around us. If we do, we suspect that we will be held back and we think we will not progress in life.
I realise that I must look at each and everyone in my life. You, I have fallen in love and now, life is different.
But sometimes, we forget that we do all these choices without taking into consideration all the people around us. If we do, we suspect that we will be held back and we think we will not progress in life.
I realise that I must look at each and everyone in my life. You, I have fallen in love and now, life is different.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
That Awesome Oprah Video!
I've always wanted to do a mob squad, I think it was a plan that me and 'Ainur never really put into action. But this is seriously cool, enjoy this awesome idea that happened just earlier this month. Credits to Harpo Production
Whip Them All, Boy!
Yeah, I've decided to go on a hiatus to take a break on dishing out the dirt on someone else but this is something that has been lurking at the back of my mind for a while.
This one woman that created such an onslaught of bickering and defending by contrasting parties. Kartika, she is.. Havoc, she wrecked by drinking in public. How public was it? I am not entirely sure as Cherating usually indoor pubs (aku tahu ke benda ni? owwhh.. tidak!)
It just got me thinking, all these while I have been hanging out at various spots in KL and have seen Malay (which presumably are Muslims-yeah, the constitution says so.. pi baca if tak caya) gulping down bottles of Heineken while playing poker in really open food courts. So much to say that it has become such a usual sight and no one turns twice anymore.
Although personally I do not practice alcohol as I have an intense hatred of the substance, I did not see the problem as something that I personally have something to do with. I assume almost everyone in my circle of friends do not drink or has stopped the habit. Hence, I always thought enforcement has been poor and more action should be taken by the authorities to curb the situation.
But as Kartika attracts so much international and local attention, I become to wonder if this country is even ready to accept the laws that have been outlined for the general good. I am sure that a lot of people are all for the caning but for the fear of being called an extremist, they succumbed to being quiet (urrmm.. I am feeling a bit hot too). Somehow, caning a chick seems just too mean and doesn't protect her human rights, no?
So it baffles me as to why after Kartika, there has been no cases reported of the same punishment being implemented. Have people learned their lessons from Kartika's episode or they have just became smarter to not drink publicly? Answer to both is NO. Through a random visit to a few spots implied afore in this post, things have not changed. The effectiveness of such publicised penalty could not reach its aim. Thus,
I strongly feel, as any educationist would agree, that continuous re-enforcement should be able to increase the ability of the implementation of the law and the authority should not be afraid of staying by the book.
Whip not just one girl, Whip them all equally.
*as always, this is a personal opinion. Take no offence, we're all here for each other's good*
This one woman that created such an onslaught of bickering and defending by contrasting parties. Kartika, she is.. Havoc, she wrecked by drinking in public. How public was it? I am not entirely sure as Cherating usually indoor pubs (aku tahu ke benda ni? owwhh.. tidak!)
It just got me thinking, all these while I have been hanging out at various spots in KL and have seen Malay (which presumably are Muslims-yeah, the constitution says so.. pi baca if tak caya) gulping down bottles of Heineken while playing poker in really open food courts. So much to say that it has become such a usual sight and no one turns twice anymore.
Although personally I do not practice alcohol as I have an intense hatred of the substance, I did not see the problem as something that I personally have something to do with. I assume almost everyone in my circle of friends do not drink or has stopped the habit. Hence, I always thought enforcement has been poor and more action should be taken by the authorities to curb the situation.
But as Kartika attracts so much international and local attention, I become to wonder if this country is even ready to accept the laws that have been outlined for the general good. I am sure that a lot of people are all for the caning but for the fear of being called an extremist, they succumbed to being quiet (urrmm.. I am feeling a bit hot too). Somehow, caning a chick seems just too mean and doesn't protect her human rights, no?
So it baffles me as to why after Kartika, there has been no cases reported of the same punishment being implemented. Have people learned their lessons from Kartika's episode or they have just became smarter to not drink publicly? Answer to both is NO. Through a random visit to a few spots implied afore in this post, things have not changed. The effectiveness of such publicised penalty could not reach its aim. Thus,
I strongly feel, as any educationist would agree, that continuous re-enforcement should be able to increase the ability of the implementation of the law and the authority should not be afraid of staying by the book.
Whip not just one girl, Whip them all equally.
*as always, this is a personal opinion. Take no offence, we're all here for each other's good*
Friday, August 28, 2009
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Mailed!
Guess what arrived in the mail about two weeks ago?? NME2 through the not-so snail mail! In your face, Kuantan!
Here's what happened: The whole school was anxiously waiting for the announcement of whether our school would be granted with a week break due to H1N1 outbreak so I notified Nina of the issue. She let out a shriek, I was surprised!
Nina: Ana, you kena tunggu sampai posmen datang tomorrow tau!
Ana : Haaa... why??
Nina: Because I sent something through the mail... You KENA tunggu!
Ana : (being smart as I always am) Did you sent in NME2?
Nina: Yeaaaaaaaa... I couldn't bear to think that you akan read the book two weeks lagi
Ana : Kaaaaan??? But Oh My God! You sangat sayang kat I, I sayang you juga *tears*
Nina: Awwwwhhh.. Durra yang beli, I postkan
Ana : I sayang jugaklah kat Durra... But you, you... *speechless*
My Girls are the best.. Who can top this?
*by now, I have finished reading the book and I can't wait for NME3.. hats off to Amir Sharipudin, Ann Lee and Shanon Shah for opening the curious can of the unknown for me*
Wednesday, August 05, 2009
The Best Way
What is the best way of giving some constructive feedback to your students? You know, without sounding harsh and pushing some wrong buttons?
I guess for any new or beginning teachers, we all face the same problem. Feedback is essential for every work, be it marks or remarks yet you just don't know what will the response to the feedback be. You just want to be honest for everyone's sake but how to put it in the most intellectual and encouraging way, that's the quest.
I wish I could pat everyone at the back and say "Good Job" but the standard is raised as the time passes by. I want to see imrpovement, from good to better to best. Most of people haven't really reached good yet being at better shouldn't leave you too comfortable.
Okay, so you have tried writing about lands in Europe and homes of sausages... For other essays, try to tell me something I don't already know. Instead of focusing on the narrative or the plot, you can have a little more emphasis on the characters' soul. Not from the surface, but dwell into its inner thoughts. What do people in certain situation, sometimes compromising ones, think of when they do it?
Also, pick a setting that's beyond here and now. The groovy 60s, for example, is one of the best example. Yes, have some readings on music of the time, the cultural practices. Talk about Malaysia of yesteryears, when students were rulers, for example. What difference can be highlighted that rings truth to the mind?
I have always wanted my continuous essay homeworks to be a punchbag of emotions and conflicts. But more often than not, the essay becomes one of telling an event. A recount.
So, no... You haven't lost it. It's tucked neatly under a layer of doubts, so let's find that exclusively-yours magic. That's a challenge and it's for all of us.
I guess for any new or beginning teachers, we all face the same problem. Feedback is essential for every work, be it marks or remarks yet you just don't know what will the response to the feedback be. You just want to be honest for everyone's sake but how to put it in the most intellectual and encouraging way, that's the quest.
I wish I could pat everyone at the back and say "Good Job" but the standard is raised as the time passes by. I want to see imrpovement, from good to better to best. Most of people haven't really reached good yet being at better shouldn't leave you too comfortable.
Okay, so you have tried writing about lands in Europe and homes of sausages... For other essays, try to tell me something I don't already know. Instead of focusing on the narrative or the plot, you can have a little more emphasis on the characters' soul. Not from the surface, but dwell into its inner thoughts. What do people in certain situation, sometimes compromising ones, think of when they do it?
Also, pick a setting that's beyond here and now. The groovy 60s, for example, is one of the best example. Yes, have some readings on music of the time, the cultural practices. Talk about Malaysia of yesteryears, when students were rulers, for example. What difference can be highlighted that rings truth to the mind?
I have always wanted my continuous essay homeworks to be a punchbag of emotions and conflicts. But more often than not, the essay becomes one of telling an event. A recount.
So, no... You haven't lost it. It's tucked neatly under a layer of doubts, so let's find that exclusively-yours magic. That's a challenge and it's for all of us.
Sudah Cuti
My school has been granted 7 days of leave due to some positive H1N1 case. I get to go back but I feel bad.
Monday, August 03, 2009
Drop Dead Me
This new series aired in Lifetime Channel, USA is currently being aired in Aussie too so I went on to google it and it got raving reviews. It's called "Drop Dead Diva" *ahem.. me* and I can't wait for it to reach our shores.
It's about a gorgeous bimbo-ish woman who falls dead but gets replaced into a new body, a size 16 woman who works as a lawyer. Hence, it's a stark contrast. Sort of reminds me of that Chris Rock movie, Down To Earth.
Or maybe I can watch online. The question is when? blaarggghhh...
It's about a gorgeous bimbo-ish woman who falls dead but gets replaced into a new body, a size 16 woman who works as a lawyer. Hence, it's a stark contrast. Sort of reminds me of that Chris Rock movie, Down To Earth.
Or maybe I can watch online. The question is when? blaarggghhh...
Saturday, August 01, 2009
Cubicle
This is how my cubicle looks like almost all working days, an organised chaos which Hafiz Hazim once cleverly referred to as an aftermath of a horrendous typhoon. There are too many things to do, notice the hills of books waiting for me to peek in and later, have a severe headache over it (owwh, the constant perfectionist is annoying!)
Thus, I am in office at 7.30am on a beautiful Saturday morning, having Nesvita+Weetbix for breakfast while simultaneously correcting grammar and sentence structure in essays albeit my own concurrent mistakes in the same areas are still apparent.
I miss my other Saturday mornings back home, the ones either spent gobbling down The Mother's thosai or having a chai latte+wholegrain muffin at my favourite coffee spot, Marmalade over a good book and the newspaper.
Shit, I just realised that I just might be a workaholic.
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