Reflections

biarlah tidak ramai yang mengingati,
kerana aku jua tidak mampu menjaga hati kalian
biarlah tidak ramai yang menghargai,
kerana aku tahu siapa di antara mu yang budiman
kenangan itu biarlah kenangan,
kenyataan itu harus berdepan

malu itu tabir iman
kurangkan berlisan perkara picisan
pesanku pada teman
dalam redha Ilahi kita jalinkan hubungan



~BSI, 8.47 mlm  
the dreamer

remembering my brother

In two weeks time, it will be 3 months since the passing away of my second brother. It occurred to me today that I have not really analysed my feelings about it. I mean, about his demise, about him being no longer in this world. I do not know how deep it has affected my other family members. We were saddened by it, of course, but I couldn't fathom what's going on in the minds of my parents, my siblings and my nephews. I thought, I would be fine and I would get over it easily. We weren't so close as anybody would think siblings should be. So many things had happened in his life that made it difficult sometimes to be close. But the fact that there's the feeling of sadness and tears brimming in my eyes every time I think of him shows that this brother-sister emotional connection would always be in here, in my heart. No matter how distant we were before.

The sadness I have for his death is as deep as the sadness I have for his life. Thinking about him now, there's always reflections of his life and I really wished that it was a happier one. He's gone before he could see his kids being successful in life. He's gone before he could get a strong foothold in life. He didn't leave much material things, but what he did leave are the lessons in life.

I don't have a lot of memories with him but very few ones from my childhood. With the age difference of 14 years, we were pretty much in different leagues. When I was still a little girl dwelling with schools and homeworks, he was already married and raising children (he got married young). I was such a cry baby. I remembered one day I was crying alone in my room for reasons that I don't remember any more (but I'm sure it was just a petty thing) and he had comforted me. Other than that there's nothing else and what's left are the old photographs that recorded the happy moments that I could no longer remember.

He was a kind and gentle person. But bad things could happen to a person indiscriminately. Those are all in the will of Allah swt for all the right reasons and for us to ponder. How we choose to live also affects the lives of the others around us. I know that my mother knows a lot more. Because he was her son and a mom could never stop caring for her children no matter how they were. Mom was his confidante. And mom had cared for him since the day he fell ill and bedridden until the last of his breath. And even now, mom still talks about him, about his favourite drinks, about his caring nature for cats, about this and about that .... I understand it. It's not that she can't accept the fact, but because a mother can never forget her son, and that she would always want to keep the fond memories of her son.

Maybe I am still grieving inside, but no one can see. My brother's business with this world has ended, and it chills my bones to think of what will happen afterwards, for we do not know whether we will be ready when it is our time to go....

Angah, I wish your sons could learn the lessons you left with your life ...

AlFatihah 

day 104

I am like a broken typewriter. Or like a wizard who is losing his magical touch. I wrote and wrote but nothing came through. Nothing is finished, nothing is realized.

I haven't completed a single article or journal since the last one since a few months ago. Since then, a lot of things happened. Sad and happy things. Well, mostly sad things.

During those events, I revisited my memories and innermost feelings. It's like opening up a 'hurt locker'. God knows whatever that has been stored there all these years.

I wonder if there is a difference between a fighter and a survivor.... Sometimes I think a fighter IS a survivor, but a survivor does not necessarily means he's a fighter.

When things go south, and somehow .... many things go south these days, I always broke down and cried. But afterwards I would stand up again, but without a smile. It's like adding one layer of bubble wrappers after another around a fragile package, that keeps bursting and popping when pressured.

Finding the answers, and keeping the faith intact is a lifelong quest. And so it is with fighting demons inside the soul.

And where have I gone so far?

the most dangerous poison is idle time

the most dangerous poison is idle time

and too much entertainment

the most important vitamin is MOTIVATION

to set up OBJECTIVES in life

the most difficult trait to acquire

is sometimes the WILLPOWER

the hardest way to CHANGE

is actually the easiest thing to do

but without motivation, objectives and willpower ...

without ENLIGHTENMENT

change will forever be the trickiest thing to realize

Madai Baturong Forest Reserve Nature Centre

Madai Baturong Forest Reserve Nature Centre or Pusat Sejadi Hutan Simpan Madai Baturong or also known simply as Madai Waterfall, is located just by the roadside of Jalan Tawau - Lahad Datu, somewhere around 50 km from Lahad Datu and 15 km from Kunak, Sabah. My colleagues and I always pass by this place whenever we are on our way to and from Lahad Datu for our work trips but never once we stop at this place. It always seems to be deserted, and I've never seen a car parked inside the area before, therefore the assumption that this place was not open to public. I didn't even know and give any thought about what was inside it. Then again, I think we have never passed by this place during the weekends.

One day, while we were on our way back from Lahad Datu, we saw a police road block set up at the road just in front of the centre. Slowing down, I saw that there's actually a few people sitting at a food stall inside the centre. Thinking out loud, "I wonder what is this place..." and my colleague suggested to stop and take a look inside. It's actually a nature centre and there's a waterfall in it.

Information board at the entrance

Oh, by the way, we have to pay an entrance fee of RM 2 (for adult Malaysians) each. The first thing I noticed was how unkempt the little landscape was as we walked further inwards. At the entrance there's quite a spacious parking space, a surau, toilets and showers and a couple more buildings, one of them was the Information Centre. I didn't go inside that building though. The built pavement was really muddy. A huge butterfly greeted us and it was playing hard to get; fluttering its wings around my colleague while following him as he walked yet it did not allow me the chance to snap a photo of it. I was mesmerized though by its size and (if I may say) playfulness.

a kind of forest plant, I presume ... 

not a good idea to swim

The waterfall was not even far from the entrance. We have to walk down quite a long flight of wooden stairs to reach the river and there's the waterfall with its height of about 10-15m tall standing before us. It was a really nice view. The water falls into what looked like a pond of about 15-20m radius before flowing down the river. The water in the river was quite brown in colour although it seemed pure and clear from above the fall. There's a signboard that clearly warns the visitors from swimming and diving. Yeah, we could see with the rocks all over, it is surely preferable to stay safe.

the waterfall and the pond 

the river

The waterfall aside, as nice view as it could be, I couldn't say the same about the surrounding area. Of course I know it's a nature centre in a forest reserve but the place could be more beautiful, accommodating and safer with a little bit of maintenance. The wooden stairs were old and some parts were really soft and could break if a person bigger and heavier than us stepped on it. Some planks have already been missing from its place that we need place our foot carefully. Fallen leaves and branches were left accumulated on the stairs. There's a gazebo but I didn't feel like resting there.

repair and maintenance long overdue

I spotted a hanging bridge but from where I stood I could see the piles of leaves accumulated on it. I doubt that I could walk on it without fearing my safety. It seemed that the bridge leads to the forest where people could trek and climb hills and mountains. We went up to look for the bridge and found out that the bridge was closed. Oh, well, what a shame. My excitement was cut short. There's nothing more we could do here. I hope the reason it's closed is because of renovation or maintenance work is in progress but if it is, there's no notification whatsoever about it there.

it could have been nice to be up there

the hanging bridge is closed ... huhu

This place is really nice but I was feeling quite sad with its conditions. I'm sure if this place is maintained well, it could attract a lot of visitors who love to be in natural surroundings, walking in the forest while enjoying the environment, the view and the various species of flora and fauna. The plus side of this place, in my opinion, is that it is really easy to access, no need to ride a pick up to reach here. This place should be a hit. I hope this place will be maintained and promoted well in the future. It's such a shame to see a good recreational place like this reduced to shambles or being appreciated for the wrong reasons. Surely, there are a lot more to be discovered here.
 

the stairway to heaven .... ha ha ...nah, it will be stairway to death
if you are not careful!

it's all about chemistry

you and me, we have the chemistry. the thing that i miss the most is having an eye to eye conversation with you. we can talk about everything. we have mutual understanding. we support each others' ideas. we don't just talk to each other, we listen too. we never have to pretend, we just be ourselves and trust each other. we share our insights, and our deep secrets, no matter dark or white. having that kind of trust, interaction, and communication with you, is liberating. being with you, it's like getting a full dose of confidence. with you, i feel beautiful. you are the best thing that has ever happened to me, and i cherish our memories together. i am ever so thankful that we met, my friend.

a memoir, a chick lit and a mystery

Footprints In The Paddy Fields is what the author, Tina Kisil, regards as the family portrait and childhood memoir of hers. This captivating book is the author's reminiscence of her earliest life with her Dusun family in Sabah, Malaysia during the 1950s to 1960s era.

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For me, the book is an eye opener for the customs and traditions of the native Dusuns, related by the author through her family's roots and lineage, their life journey, values of life, relationship with other natives, survival and sustenance methods, crafts and skills, sources of entertainment, sadness and joys and everything else under the sun in an engaging way and all through the eyes and the perspectives of Tina Kisil, the young Dusun child at that time. Written as a memoir, this book is more interesting to read because of the honest narration of personal experiences. I was taken back to the times when I flipped the pages of serious books about Sabah and saw those old black and white pictures of native people in their traditional attires and holding baskets of their trades. I had thought nothing of them, until I read this memoir, and suddenly I realize that each and every faces in those old black and white photos has a story, a personality ... a life of their own. It is something to be appreciated and respected. It is a refreshing read.

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I picked up The Men's Guide to the Women's Bathroom purely because of the interestingly curious title. I had a sense that it could be a light and easy chick lit and I was not wrong. The narrator of the story is Claire St John, a 30-something woman who had just lived through a painful divorce, quitted her lawyer job and moved from New York to her mom's rental house in Austin, Texas. The whole story is about Claire's emotional journey to get over her post-divorce era and try to move on with her life. She decided to become a writer and her junior effort is to write about the women's bathroom. It's quirky and funny to read her notes about women and their association with the ladies room. As the author said, the women's bathroom is a sanctuary where every deep, dark secret is revealed... Of course, Claire found herself a new romance, experienced a few embarrassing moments, had a gay male friend and several other girlfriends who were as quirky and funny as she is ... a typical setting. The story doesn't have much of a depth but interesting enough to kill away time with light entertainment.

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In Death In The Clouds, Hercule Poirot solved a murder that happened right under his nose. It was in the airplane of Prometheus, where an old moneylender, Madame Giselle was murdered by a snake venom pricked to her neck via a blowpipe dart. Naturally, everybody in the rear car of the plane were the suspects and it's up to the brilliant work of M. Poirot to find the murderer ... and somehow arranged some matchmaking works in the process! As usual, the obvious question to be answered is who had the highest probability and possibility to kill, when everybody denied having seen anything related to the murder? But it is also important to learn about the victim herself. Madame Giselle is not the real name, an estranged daughter came to light, or perhaps it's one of the clients? In the end, M. Poirot caught his murderer in his usual grand 'moments-of-truth' speech.

Chin up!

CHIN UP!

"Chin up!" was one of the popular phrases when I was in secondary school. Specifically for us 'bandgirls' aka the members of the school's marching band. It's what I was being told by my seniors during my junior years, and it's also what I told my juniors when I was their senior.

Chin up, girl. Don't let your head down. Chin up when you bask in the glory of the glaring sun in the middle of the field coz we have to look proud and smart standing in our reds and blues.

When you feel that your self-esteem is degrading, chin up!

When you feel people mock you for your lack of ability, chin up!

When you feel bullied by people who think that they are better than you, chin up!

Don't ever wallow in self-pity and let them get the better of you. Do not let the negative things catch up on you and anchored you to the bottom of the ocean. Sometimes, certain things might not work out for you, it's inevitable but you can never let it affect you so much. Because you still have a full life ahead to live.

Chin up, go forward and never look back.  

The Long Walk

My encounter with this story started when I saw the movie, "The Way Back" (2010) last year on the movie channel. From the movie, I learned that it was actually inspired by a true story written in a book titled "The Long Walk". The movie gripped my attention till the end. It's one of those adventurous story of prison escape that I have enjoyed after The Great Escape (1963) and The Shawshank Redemption (1994). So, when my eyes caught the book on one of the library shelves one day, I didn't hesitate to pick it up for reading.

The Long Walk is a story of Slavomir Rawicz's adventure of escaping the infamous Siberian Gulag camp during the Second World War (WWII) and traveling about 6,500km south on foot from the camp in Siberia down to India, traversing harsh weather and difficult terrains including the Gobi Desert, Tibet and the Himalayas. His arduous and gruelling mission for freedom was shared together with six other inmates consisting of two Polish soldiers, a Latvian landowner, a Yugoslav clerk, a Lithuanian architect and a mysterious American engineer from the camp and later on joined by a young Polish girl, all were victims of the war. Rawicz himself was a Polish cavalry officer. Of all in the group, only 4 people including Rawicz succeeded in reaching the British India, while the rest succumbed en route.

I have also learned that this story's claim as being a true story that occurred to Rawicz has been debated by many, due to certain parts inside the story that were deemed inaccurate or questionable. Another fact that being brought to light was that the story actually happened to another Polish soldier, not Rawicz. However, as far as I know, none of these debates were definite in confirming whether the whole story told by Rawicz was really true or not. After all, it happened during one of the biggest war in human history, where the world was in chaos.

For me, true or not, this story is an ultimate tale of human perseverance with gripping adventure, exploration of different cultures and tragic disasters before freedom is finally accomplished. A captivating story.

Title : The Long Walk

Author : Slavomir Rawicz (ghost-written by Ronald Downing)

Published:  First published 1956, this edition was published in 2011 by Constable.

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recent indulgence

Hola ... oohh, it felt so wonderful and nice to be able to indulge myself in some books after so many months of not doing it. I don't know why I deprived myself from reading ... maybe too much distractions coming my way. However, it's time to hit the library and let's take a look at my recent accomplishments in the reading department, which consist of  2 very familiar authors in my book archive, Jeffrey Archer and Agatha Christie.

Honestly, I have never read a full novel from Jeffrey Archer, but I have enjoyed several of his short stories collections instead. New additions to the list are "A Quiver Full Of Arrows" (1980) and "A Twist In The Tale" (1988). Most of his short stories are inspired by true events, while a few are his own creation. The most common experiences of reading these stories are (for me) are, one, it's like reading a person's whole life biography, where a story could tell a tale encompassing decades of years, and two, the tales are often normal and bland in the beginning but smack you with a twist or something surprising or unexpected in the end. In these two short stories collections, I have several favourites i.e. from the "A Quiver Full Of Arrows"; The Luncheon, The Coup, Old Love, The Perfect Gentleman, One-Night Stand, Henry's Hiccup and A Matter of Principle. In "A Twist In The Tale", my favourites would be The Perfect Murder, A La Carte, Just Good Friends, The Steal, Honor Among Thieves and A Chapter of Accidents.

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Next, my favourite crime novelist, Agatha Christie. I have read so many of her books, yet there are still many more that I haven't read. Hallowe'en Party (1969) might not be as grand as her other stories that I've read, but it's still one of the best. And it's a bit dark story, when the victim is a child. Now that is quite different because there's never been a child victim in the books that I've read so far. In this book, Hercule Poirot is helping his novelist friend Ariadne Oliver to figure out who and why a 13-year old Joyce Reynolds is murdered in a Hallowe'en party.

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There, those were my recent conquests. And right now, I'm just starting to read a fourth book, all in one week. Perhaps, I'll write about it in my future post. Till then, au revoir.