yup, mid year exam is over. i am happy for that but i am also scared that there are only 3 more months for trials. need not say about SPM. currently i am indulging myself with novels and taking a break from the havoc of studies.
today we celebrated teacher's day at school. it was fun and all. i gave my well-worthy teachers apples and chocolates. well, i walked around the whole school with my buddy and spent almost the whole day doing nothing but talking to friends, making nonsensical jokes, wishing teachers and reading Agatha Christie.
yesterday, one of my closest friends was scolded by an angry teacher. and (its not a surprise is it?) he was not the one to be blamed for. (some of the teachers are like that...*wink* starts with a 'c'...*wink*) technically, she was the one who didn't (still doesn't) know the difference between a secretary's work and a president's.
for that friend of mine,
dude, just forget about what she said, you know you are doing the right thing, just carry on doing it and she will realise her wrong. don't give in or fall into the abyss of ignorance set up by her.heheheheh( wow, dramatic much)
alright then, i will keep updating. but tata for now.......
Friday, May 29, 2009
Friday, May 8, 2009
guilty or not guilty...
actions can only be judged by those performing it. the ones to comment on other's actions simply do not know the real reason behind them. but some actions do not need reasons at all. so does it make it right to judge those actions? better still what if that was a murder.....
i looked around the enclosed dark room. there was not a ray of light anywhere. much like my life that has plunged into the abyss of darkness. the rays of hope had vanished, leaving me alone in my dirty disgusting world. the fan above me creaked while the blades swished around.
my thoughts were very disorganized. there was a cloud of confusions over my head. a drop of sweat dropped from the tip of my nose and fell on her leg. i couldn't see but i could tell, her legs were right below me. she laid motionless and liveless. her white sleeveless t-shirt drenched in blood and sweat. again, i can only imagine that. my feet felt a thick liquid oozing out from her lower abdomen, right where i had stabbed her.
why did i stab her? that's a question i have no answer for. the reason was nothing. i stabbed her for no reason at all. she had come in awhile ago. wearing a white t-shirt and a skimpy old blue jeans. although, her lips only asked for directions to the apartment above mine, there was lust in her eyes. i could sense that she was not here for mere directions.
her fingers had played with her curls. first sign of flirtation. i noticed there was a glimmering diamond wedding ring on one of her fingers. a smile had slowly been introduced to my face. i looked at her, straight into those sensuous red eyes. i could feel that she was here to play with me. she wanted me. i knew it.
i had slowly moved towards the door. the click of the lock only brought a glow of joy on her face. she wants to play with me. then i shall play with her. i had taken her into my arm and led the way to the sofa. she smiled not knowing what awaited her. when she was comfortable, i grabbed the vase on the table beside the sofa. broke the end of the vase and stabbed her. she screamed but no one could hear her, for i had my hands over her mouth before that. i stabbed her not once or twice but thrice. definitely, she felt the pain piercing through every single cell in her body..
now sitting here, i keep thinking. am i guilty or not guilty? there are a lot of points to argue this question. but the real answer is for me to know and for you to let your imagination go wild. i stood up and walked over to the door. a short glance over the body brought a smile on my face. i closed the door shut, locked it and walked away.
i looked around the enclosed dark room. there was not a ray of light anywhere. much like my life that has plunged into the abyss of darkness. the rays of hope had vanished, leaving me alone in my dirty disgusting world. the fan above me creaked while the blades swished around.
my thoughts were very disorganized. there was a cloud of confusions over my head. a drop of sweat dropped from the tip of my nose and fell on her leg. i couldn't see but i could tell, her legs were right below me. she laid motionless and liveless. her white sleeveless t-shirt drenched in blood and sweat. again, i can only imagine that. my feet felt a thick liquid oozing out from her lower abdomen, right where i had stabbed her.
why did i stab her? that's a question i have no answer for. the reason was nothing. i stabbed her for no reason at all. she had come in awhile ago. wearing a white t-shirt and a skimpy old blue jeans. although, her lips only asked for directions to the apartment above mine, there was lust in her eyes. i could sense that she was not here for mere directions.
her fingers had played with her curls. first sign of flirtation. i noticed there was a glimmering diamond wedding ring on one of her fingers. a smile had slowly been introduced to my face. i looked at her, straight into those sensuous red eyes. i could feel that she was here to play with me. she wanted me. i knew it.
i had slowly moved towards the door. the click of the lock only brought a glow of joy on her face. she wants to play with me. then i shall play with her. i had taken her into my arm and led the way to the sofa. she smiled not knowing what awaited her. when she was comfortable, i grabbed the vase on the table beside the sofa. broke the end of the vase and stabbed her. she screamed but no one could hear her, for i had my hands over her mouth before that. i stabbed her not once or twice but thrice. definitely, she felt the pain piercing through every single cell in her body..
now sitting here, i keep thinking. am i guilty or not guilty? there are a lot of points to argue this question. but the real answer is for me to know and for you to let your imagination go wild. i stood up and walked over to the door. a short glance over the body brought a smile on my face. i closed the door shut, locked it and walked away.
....Exams....
yeah, i know it's a boring topic to blog on. let me just get to the point. I HATE EXAMS. yes, exams are my worst enemies. i will read like a mad fool day and night, hoping to score an A for that subject. there will be bags under my eyelids and definitely, my circulatory system would be drenched in caffeine. they are my secret weapon to keep late nights. and the results? would it be worth it?
yea, yea , yea. i can hear the 'sighs' and 'yawns'. tell you something. personally i think exams only put on immense amount of pressure and stress onto the students. but one thing is for sure, its not the exams which are to be blamed for this. the perception of teachers, the society and parents is such that once you get a B you are a B grade student. nothing more nothing less. but since i do not have any say in this, and every individual has the right to think in his or her own way, i will stop blabbering about the perception.
i see my friends (some of them) are well prepared and that is the way to be. exams are to test on how much we have learned. if the system is right (remember i said 'if'), then all of us should be prepared. we wouldn't be going through this stress, simply because we have done our part. yea but because we are usually too busy with other things during normal weeks, we only study when exams come.
sure, i would love to put the blame on the system but still, the onus is on me to study. if i carried it out well, i wouldn't be studying and memorising like a schizophrenic now. anyways guys, biology was alright i still have two more weeks of exams ahead of me, so don't expect frequent posts. Now, i have to go study for the rest of the subjects. bye guys.
yea, yea , yea. i can hear the 'sighs' and 'yawns'. tell you something. personally i think exams only put on immense amount of pressure and stress onto the students. but one thing is for sure, its not the exams which are to be blamed for this. the perception of teachers, the society and parents is such that once you get a B you are a B grade student. nothing more nothing less. but since i do not have any say in this, and every individual has the right to think in his or her own way, i will stop blabbering about the perception.
i see my friends (some of them) are well prepared and that is the way to be. exams are to test on how much we have learned. if the system is right (remember i said 'if'), then all of us should be prepared. we wouldn't be going through this stress, simply because we have done our part. yea but because we are usually too busy with other things during normal weeks, we only study when exams come.
sure, i would love to put the blame on the system but still, the onus is on me to study. if i carried it out well, i wouldn't be studying and memorising like a schizophrenic now. anyways guys, biology was alright i still have two more weeks of exams ahead of me, so don't expect frequent posts. Now, i have to go study for the rest of the subjects. bye guys.
Saturday, April 25, 2009
the mighty mindz.......
yeap baby, we won....the state challenge. we are the mighty mindz. the humble mewahans. the things we did to get to this point. i can't describe the satisfaction on our faces when we got the winning results. it was so great. seriously, our main goal was not to win though. it was to do our best and have fun while doing it and we accomplished it.
we arrived at seremban parade at about 10.45. by that time the lower secondary were doing the first task already, which was the answer-question challenge. we registered and went for a short walk. it wasn't a walk actually. just moving here and there, saying 'hi' and waving 'hello'. if you were there, you could literally see the nervousness on our faces. me, clement and shakilan. OMG. there were rude people there, too, walking past and smiling cynically.
then it was our turn for the first task, the upper secondary. we went in with clueless minds, not really mighty. we were sort of not prepared because there were so many things going on. debates and Prefect Gala. we did do last minute ,desperate, preparation. we stayed back for two days while other schools stayed back for two months. we were definitely freaked out. the thought of losing again (as you guys know we lost in debates finals) haunted all of us. it would be humiliating to go down again. it would be easier to plunge into the abyss of darkness (exaggerating much? yeah)
from the first 7 questions we were 3rd, the first 14 questions, we were 9th...at the end of the first challenge, we were 8th. but it does not matter, since the top 30 teams qualify to the second challenge, that is the hands-on challenge.
now...... the hands on challenge was well......., REALLY, and i mean REALLY, challenging. we were required to built a water powered windmill within an hour and half. and guess what we were given, 3 bottles, 5 plastic tea-spoons, plasticine, a screw, a pin, UHU glue, a polystyrene "wheel", colour paper, a 100plus can, chopsticks, and a blade. (other stuffs, i just can't remember, sorry.) well we started off great. we got to planning and we immediately got to work.
when doing the project a lot of things went wrong. remember the polystyrene wheel? yeah, about that. we kinda decided to poke the sharp end of the spoons (which we cut) so that the water can hit the spoon and turn the polystyrene wheel which in turn would turn the chopstick that will turn the windmill (the 100 plus can cut). but we were 'smart' enough to put UHU glue into the point where we poked the wheel. yes, it turn soggy and soaked.
we looked at each other, panicked. plan B , we used the bottle cap and the plasticine and managed to get it done. then , we had fun doing all the other things. let me just jump to the funny part. we completed our model and we tested it. the moment of truth. the water poured and the windmill did..........(big surprise)....... not work. again panic took over. the water poured on top of the wheel but the wheel didn't turn. disappointment in the crowd. yes there was a huge crowd at our place since we were very hyper and LOUD. then, one of our team member got a brilliant idea. he tilted the water source to hit the spoon directly. it worked. we were overjoyed and yes, we did jump around like monkeys.
and the rest is history. the judges did their evaluation and we got into the shortlist and finally we won. seriously it was the most fun activity i have ever done. mostly because i did it with my friends. a big salute to those guys. they endured my terrible singing during that tensed hour. thanks, shaki and thanks clement. you guys are the best. MEWAHANS RoCk.
we arrived at seremban parade at about 10.45. by that time the lower secondary were doing the first task already, which was the answer-question challenge. we registered and went for a short walk. it wasn't a walk actually. just moving here and there, saying 'hi' and waving 'hello'. if you were there, you could literally see the nervousness on our faces. me, clement and shakilan. OMG. there were rude people there, too, walking past and smiling cynically.
then it was our turn for the first task, the upper secondary. we went in with clueless minds, not really mighty. we were sort of not prepared because there were so many things going on. debates and Prefect Gala. we did do last minute ,desperate, preparation. we stayed back for two days while other schools stayed back for two months. we were definitely freaked out. the thought of losing again (as you guys know we lost in debates finals) haunted all of us. it would be humiliating to go down again. it would be easier to plunge into the abyss of darkness (exaggerating much? yeah)
from the first 7 questions we were 3rd, the first 14 questions, we were 9th...at the end of the first challenge, we were 8th. but it does not matter, since the top 30 teams qualify to the second challenge, that is the hands-on challenge.
now...... the hands on challenge was well......., REALLY, and i mean REALLY, challenging. we were required to built a water powered windmill within an hour and half. and guess what we were given, 3 bottles, 5 plastic tea-spoons, plasticine, a screw, a pin, UHU glue, a polystyrene "wheel", colour paper, a 100plus can, chopsticks, and a blade. (other stuffs, i just can't remember, sorry.) well we started off great. we got to planning and we immediately got to work.
when doing the project a lot of things went wrong. remember the polystyrene wheel? yeah, about that. we kinda decided to poke the sharp end of the spoons (which we cut) so that the water can hit the spoon and turn the polystyrene wheel which in turn would turn the chopstick that will turn the windmill (the 100 plus can cut). but we were 'smart' enough to put UHU glue into the point where we poked the wheel. yes, it turn soggy and soaked.
we looked at each other, panicked. plan B , we used the bottle cap and the plasticine and managed to get it done. then , we had fun doing all the other things. let me just jump to the funny part. we completed our model and we tested it. the moment of truth. the water poured and the windmill did..........(big surprise)....... not work. again panic took over. the water poured on top of the wheel but the wheel didn't turn. disappointment in the crowd. yes there was a huge crowd at our place since we were very hyper and LOUD. then, one of our team member got a brilliant idea. he tilted the water source to hit the spoon directly. it worked. we were overjoyed and yes, we did jump around like monkeys.
and the rest is history. the judges did their evaluation and we got into the shortlist and finally we won. seriously it was the most fun activity i have ever done. mostly because i did it with my friends. a big salute to those guys. they endured my terrible singing during that tensed hour. thanks, shaki and thanks clement. you guys are the best. MEWAHANS RoCk.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
the war of words....
words. they were our weapon of defense and attack during this war. Against an elite school, we the humble mewahans went. the battle ground set in favour of the enemy. where they knew the tricks and shortcuts; strategies to make us look like fools. but we were not scared for we were to speak the truth and nothing but the whole truth.
arguments began. we stated the truth, we were humble but feisty. we were civilised. the evil dirty tricks from the enemy tried to trip us but failed. the cunning laughs and exaggerated hand gestures made them appear more like politicians. they had nothing though. words with not even a strand of relevance were thrown . the crowd went crazy over it. they were cheering for the enemy for it was their homeland.
we did not give up. we knew that they were only armed with eloquence. besides what could we expect from someone who ties his shoelace on a chair during the war. the sword of accent was there but was not used in the right manner. they tried twisting and turning but sadly , they were the ones who got twisted. they went against their own soldiers, they laughed, smiled but they were not aware that the war was not over yet.
we brought out secret weapons and that confused the intellectually-challenged enemy. they ran from the war, in fear that we might beat them. they were like donkeys running off, with their fear-stricken eyes. they were not man enough to accept the truth. they lied and tried misleading us. but we were not misled. however, the others who watched were.
the arguments ended. the war of words was done with. now for the evaluation. an elite school against the humble mewahans. they were like giants. they appeared big, but if looked closer you would realise that they had peas for brains. the evaluation went on. the aspects we were judged on, which side was bigger, who looked better, who was fairer. they were too scared to go against the giants as they might crush them.
they gave the win to the enemy but we knew who were the real winners. we walked out of there with dignity. unfair, sure, injustice, definitely, but what can we do? we are just the humble mewahans.
arguments began. we stated the truth, we were humble but feisty. we were civilised. the evil dirty tricks from the enemy tried to trip us but failed. the cunning laughs and exaggerated hand gestures made them appear more like politicians. they had nothing though. words with not even a strand of relevance were thrown . the crowd went crazy over it. they were cheering for the enemy for it was their homeland.
we did not give up. we knew that they were only armed with eloquence. besides what could we expect from someone who ties his shoelace on a chair during the war. the sword of accent was there but was not used in the right manner. they tried twisting and turning but sadly , they were the ones who got twisted. they went against their own soldiers, they laughed, smiled but they were not aware that the war was not over yet.
we brought out secret weapons and that confused the intellectually-challenged enemy. they ran from the war, in fear that we might beat them. they were like donkeys running off, with their fear-stricken eyes. they were not man enough to accept the truth. they lied and tried misleading us. but we were not misled. however, the others who watched were.
the arguments ended. the war of words was done with. now for the evaluation. an elite school against the humble mewahans. they were like giants. they appeared big, but if looked closer you would realise that they had peas for brains. the evaluation went on. the aspects we were judged on, which side was bigger, who looked better, who was fairer. they were too scared to go against the giants as they might crush them.
they gave the win to the enemy but we knew who were the real winners. we walked out of there with dignity. unfair, sure, injustice, definitely, but what can we do? we are just the humble mewahans.
clothes......
a lot of things change. names change, friends change, initials change, television programmes change, relationships change, and even humans change. once a kind hearted man could change into a greedy money-loving idiot in a few days. change can be good, nevertheless change can be bad too.
my life has been turned upside down; completely changed. from a low caste cart puller, i have now become the designer who has become an overnight success. thanks to Project Runway. i design clothes for both men and women. during the competition i designed a lot of clothes and those were the creation of my imagination. i let my mind wander into the worlds of materials and fabrics. like a horse let loose, it ran wildly. my creations were alive and they had a mind on their own. they would whisper to me the way to cut, sew and assemble them. the judges called my works 'unpredictable', 'magnificent' and 'superbly wonderful'.
i became the newbie who made headlines in the world of fashion. the baby face designer who would earn thousands for his next line of designs. i was the envy of all. my life turned a complete 180 degrees, from living a hut , i now own the biggest bungalow in Beverly Hills. i have jennifer lopez in speed dial and my neighbour is justin timberlake. the ones that i have drooled over are now my closest friends. no more singlets and khaki shorts, its tuxedo and t-shirts with jeans.
but i am not happy. the fabrics have gone mute. i can't hear them anymore. when i touch them, there is no feelings, no affection. nothing. i create clothes which are not mine. highly demanded they have lost their authenticity. they are not mine. look at the set of clothes hung up there, next the cabinet. they are my next line of design. all added up, they would probably bring me millions. i suppose. however i have made up my mind. i don't want that money. i want 'me' back. i want the whisper of the fabrics back.
i looked at them , a short glance over the clothes that didn't belong to me. its high time i made a decision. now, i shall act on it. i grasped the match box from the table beside me. a fast swip of the match, and i saw my freedom. my way out. its time. i threw the lighted match onto the pile of clothes in front of me. they caught on light. i saw happiness ahead, freedom and the old me. i walked out of there with the satisfaction of correcting my wrong.
my life has been turned upside down; completely changed. from a low caste cart puller, i have now become the designer who has become an overnight success. thanks to Project Runway. i design clothes for both men and women. during the competition i designed a lot of clothes and those were the creation of my imagination. i let my mind wander into the worlds of materials and fabrics. like a horse let loose, it ran wildly. my creations were alive and they had a mind on their own. they would whisper to me the way to cut, sew and assemble them. the judges called my works 'unpredictable', 'magnificent' and 'superbly wonderful'.
i became the newbie who made headlines in the world of fashion. the baby face designer who would earn thousands for his next line of designs. i was the envy of all. my life turned a complete 180 degrees, from living a hut , i now own the biggest bungalow in Beverly Hills. i have jennifer lopez in speed dial and my neighbour is justin timberlake. the ones that i have drooled over are now my closest friends. no more singlets and khaki shorts, its tuxedo and t-shirts with jeans.
but i am not happy. the fabrics have gone mute. i can't hear them anymore. when i touch them, there is no feelings, no affection. nothing. i create clothes which are not mine. highly demanded they have lost their authenticity. they are not mine. look at the set of clothes hung up there, next the cabinet. they are my next line of design. all added up, they would probably bring me millions. i suppose. however i have made up my mind. i don't want that money. i want 'me' back. i want the whisper of the fabrics back.
i looked at them , a short glance over the clothes that didn't belong to me. its high time i made a decision. now, i shall act on it. i grasped the match box from the table beside me. a fast swip of the match, and i saw my freedom. my way out. its time. i threw the lighted match onto the pile of clothes in front of me. they caught on light. i saw happiness ahead, freedom and the old me. i walked out of there with the satisfaction of correcting my wrong.
Monday, March 30, 2009
my love has unveiled.....
reading and writing are the best things in life for me. i do not know whether i am good at these things (do i have to be?) but i have the best of time doing these. i have been writing since i was about 10 (fiction). i only got into reading in secondary school ( J K Rowling's Harry Potter series do not count) after reading Matilda by Roald Dahl. that was the book that got me going.
i have travelled a lot in books. first i walked into the made-up world of Roald Dahl where Giants invaded the streets at midnight and there was a factory too cool to be described. slowly i ran into Kabul where Khaled Hosseini managed to get me hooked with the stunning storyline and plot. then i flew over, to india. Arundhathi Roy, Aravind Adiga, and Jhumpa Lahiri changed my idea of writing totally. the literary works with stunning prose and beautiful words had me dazzled off my feet. then came Malaysia, Preeta Samarasan had me on my knees worshiping her for the stunning debut, Evening is the Whole day. familiar scenes from malaysian life planted into her novel made me laugh like a made fool and cry like a baby. Jodi Picoult slowly transported me to America where i found out literary works can be contemporary.
all these are just a few examples of authors whom i love dearly. there are tens of others whom i did not state here who have influenced my reading style. now, i am hooked on Charles Dickens and Roald Dahl. who will be next? i don't know. i just keep going without a narrowed down list or genre, i discover authors almost every single week. reading these magnificent novels and writings, made me want to create pieces which are just as good. (whether i succeed in doing it or not is a totally different question all it's own).
nowadays, i love writing. short fiction are my favourite, i recently wrote one for MPH competition. writing the story, i realised that i wrote it because i loved doing it. (of course, i only realised it at the end, too late to change anything) creating characters, placing them in difficult situations, stepping into their shoes and seeing it from their point of view. i just loved it a lot. no words can truly describe the love i have for writing.
sure, i might not be the next Khaleed Hosseini or Aravind Adiga, but i will keep on writing. who knows i might actually improve in this craft that i love so much. now, you play the part. i really do need constructive criticism. i don't need people to fake OMG's or WOW. i want you guys to help me point out the flaws in my stories, so that these flaws would not follow up in my upcoming stories. be genuine, if you hated it, just say so. if you liked it, just say so. i want to get better and for that to happen i need people to point out the mistakes i am making. (don't be too harsh, though)
well, thats all i have to say. the choice is in your hands. leaving you to ponder on that, i end this very close to heart post.
i have travelled a lot in books. first i walked into the made-up world of Roald Dahl where Giants invaded the streets at midnight and there was a factory too cool to be described. slowly i ran into Kabul where Khaled Hosseini managed to get me hooked with the stunning storyline and plot. then i flew over, to india. Arundhathi Roy, Aravind Adiga, and Jhumpa Lahiri changed my idea of writing totally. the literary works with stunning prose and beautiful words had me dazzled off my feet. then came Malaysia, Preeta Samarasan had me on my knees worshiping her for the stunning debut, Evening is the Whole day. familiar scenes from malaysian life planted into her novel made me laugh like a made fool and cry like a baby. Jodi Picoult slowly transported me to America where i found out literary works can be contemporary.
all these are just a few examples of authors whom i love dearly. there are tens of others whom i did not state here who have influenced my reading style. now, i am hooked on Charles Dickens and Roald Dahl. who will be next? i don't know. i just keep going without a narrowed down list or genre, i discover authors almost every single week. reading these magnificent novels and writings, made me want to create pieces which are just as good. (whether i succeed in doing it or not is a totally different question all it's own).
nowadays, i love writing. short fiction are my favourite, i recently wrote one for MPH competition. writing the story, i realised that i wrote it because i loved doing it. (of course, i only realised it at the end, too late to change anything) creating characters, placing them in difficult situations, stepping into their shoes and seeing it from their point of view. i just loved it a lot. no words can truly describe the love i have for writing.
sure, i might not be the next Khaleed Hosseini or Aravind Adiga, but i will keep on writing. who knows i might actually improve in this craft that i love so much. now, you play the part. i really do need constructive criticism. i don't need people to fake OMG's or WOW. i want you guys to help me point out the flaws in my stories, so that these flaws would not follow up in my upcoming stories. be genuine, if you hated it, just say so. if you liked it, just say so. i want to get better and for that to happen i need people to point out the mistakes i am making. (don't be too harsh, though)
well, thats all i have to say. the choice is in your hands. leaving you to ponder on that, i end this very close to heart post.
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