... howwwzattt... tahniah Angah...

Angah (stripe shirt) with her brother and sisters

For any 12 years old child, today was a big moment for them as today they get to know the result for their UPSR.

I was at my daughter’s school earlier today attending their Hari Penyampaian Hadiah where my daughter received her prize for overall English subject. She was in year 6. Though she was more than happy for receiving her prize, deep down inside I know she must be really nervous knowing that the UPSR result is on the way.

Just before noon news broke out that she was one of the 14 pupils that got all A’s for the exam and soon after that she officially received her result slip from her HM. Emotional moments were all around, some were crying (parents included) in relieve that their hard works had paid off and some were with sombre looks on their face perhaps the results were not up to their expectation.

Those who got the 5As

Anyway, this is just a small obstacle for them. There are many more waiting ahead, not just academically but also the test of lives and I’m glad that she had passed one of them with flying colors.

Earlier Angah received her prize for best English

subject overall

Who knows, perhaps she too will continue her secondary schooling in SERATAS Taiping after me and then I have reason to visit her every months if not weeks at my beloved school.

...howwwzattt... if only pt. 2...

All About Numbers It Seems...

Had came across this piece from here while horsing around. It made me think that how true it was that we all just a statistic...

All through my school life, I had my fair share of forms to fill and each time I get to the part that said "race", I had to choose between (1) Malay, (2) Chinese, (3) Indian and (4) Others. I am always number 4. I don't really know how the forms are for school-going children today but I suspect that not much has changed.

I did have moments when I felt like ticking the box numbered (1). Just for fun! However, brought up by a rather strict mom and a very strict Convent school, I never did. Only once in my life did I play truant. Moreover, I was caught! That's a story for another day.

Anyway, back to being number 4. It wasn't all too bad back then. Being the minority, did make me feel a little special. The 1s, 2s and 3s were so many. The Number 4s stood out, in some way. We were noticed more easily. People remembered us better too.

Now at almost half a century, yeah, almost but not quite there, I look back and see how advantageous it has been. Every single member of my family, the 4s has married either a 1, 2 or 3. Hahahaha. Typing this seems like a mathematical equation. Now the outcome of this 4 + 1 or 4 + 2 or 4 + 3 has resulted in a lovely concoction of a truly Malaysian child.

These "products" of mixed numbers have grown up with each other, never knowing anything except being from the same family. Now isn't that nice! Until, of course, they grow older, enter school and find out that they are “numbers” which exist in our system. For what purpose? Until now, I cannot fathom it. "Statistics", you say! Ahhhhhhhh , but whatever for? Can't we just call ourselves Malaysians?

When we were young, we used to joke about the mixture our kids would be when we marry. We came up with rather hilarious made up words. I’ll share them with you here;

Indian + Filipino = Indipino
Chinese + Filipino = Chilipino or Chinipino
Malay + Filipino = Milipino

Consider also Singaporean + Filipino = Silipino (go tease your Silipino friends, now)

(Note: I’m Malaysian and my Singaporean husband has been called a “Singalaysian” by rakyat@work!). So funny!

Therefore, I think, being Number four isn’t half-bad. We have a great mixture of unity. We respect and celebrate each other’s beliefs. We accept that we are not the same but neither are we that different. We inherited common genes and came from a similar blood pool. At every festive occasion, we have somewhere to go. In our minds and hearts, there is no distinction between races. As someone once said, we all belong to the human race.
Here is a collage of some pictures of my beautiful extended family!

...howwwzattt... if only...

I couldn't help myself from reproduce something taken from Hishamuddin Rais's blog and I'm not ashame of admitting it.

"...they say that when you meet the love of your life, time will stops..." - BIG FISH




BUNGA POPI - Usman Awang (12 Julai 1929 - 29 November 2001)

Dari darah, dari nanah yang punah di tanah,
rangka manusia kehilangan nyawa disambar senjata,
hasil manusia gila perang membunuh mesra,
bunga merah berkembang indah minta disembah.

Yang hidup tinggal sisa nyawa, penuh derita,
kering, bongkok, cacat, tempang dan buta,
perang dalam kenangan penuh kengerian,
sekarang dalam kepahitan,
dalam kesepian.

Yang lain kehilangan anak, suami dan kekasih,
hilang pergantungan, hilang pencarian,
hidup kebuluran,
ribuan janda, ribuan kecewa, ribuan sengsara,
jutaan anak-anak yatim hidup meminta-minta.

Manusia gila perang telah membunuh segala mesra!
perang berlangsung mencari untung tanah jajahan!
perang berlangsung membunuh anak dalam buaian!
perang berlangsung menghantar lebur nilai kebudayaan!

Bunga popi bunga mayat perajurit bergelimpangan,
bunga darah merah menyimbah,
penuh kengerian.
Kami benci pada perang penuh pembunuhan!
kami rindu pada damai sepanjang zaman!

Usman Awang1955


In English Translation :

POPPIES:

From blood, from pus that rots in the soil,
from skeletons that have lost their lives,
snatched by weapons,
the result of war maniacs who kill love,
the red flowers bloom beautifully,
requesting to be adored.

Those who live on are remnants of life,
full of sufferings,
wizened, bent, deformed, maimed and blind,
war in retrospect is full of horrors;
they remember now,
in bitterness,
in solitude.

Others lost children, husbands and sweethearts,
lost their sources of support, their livelihood,
they live in starvation,
thousands widowed,
thousands disappointed,
thousands tormented;
millions of orphans live on, and beg.

The war maniacs have killed all love!
war raged and found profit in colonial lands!
war raged and killed babies in their cradles!
war raged, and destroyed cultural values.

Poppies are the flowers of fallen soldiers,
flowers drenched red with blood,
full of horrors.
We hate war,
full of killing!
we cry for a never-ending peace!

Usman Awang1955

...howwwzattt... the joke was on you...

To repent or not to repent (taubat), that’s the question. Lately we are kind of used in hearing stupid remarks and statements made by our politicians. This is not just a normal under the tree politicians; this is the same person we elected (not me) to represent our voices, our needs up to the higher echelon of the food chain. Yet their acts and thinking are not streamlined with the highest regard put upon them by us commoners.

One ex-MB had asked one ex-Minister to repent himself for questioning the Malay Supremacy (Ketuanan Melayu) and furthermore he said, this ex-Minister should get himself out of the “rumpun” Melayu. How one expects to get out of one “rumpun” and next to be in another “rumpun”, funny isn’t it?

I never heard a Chinese that doesn’t want to be a Chinese any longer and instead opt to be Malay, French, Indian, Eskimos or what so ever. I never heard Malay that doesn’t want to be Malay any longer and instead opt to be a Chinese, French, Indian, Eskimo, Punjabi or what so ever. The same goes to the Indian, in fact the same applies to whatever existing races on the face of this planet. One can never “bertaubat” from being in his race or “bangsa”, it is odd and very peculiar if these should happen.

How was that???

...howwwzattt... you're beautiful...

Boob job anyone? When we talk about boob job, it is always associated with women or is it just my imagination? Nowadays women are more conscious not only how beautiful their face are but it has gone to an extend to do some extreme procedures to make their features more presentable and delicious to some.

Boob job or breast implant (known as breast augmentation, breast enlargement, mammoplasty enlargement, augmentation mammoplasty), are known have been used since at least from 1895 to augment the size and shape of women’s breast. The earliest known implant was attempted by Vincenz Czerny, using a woman's own adipose tissue (from a lipoma, a benign growth, on her back). Some are for corrective procedures but more are not happy about how the way their breasts look, such as crooked breast. Hmm… I wonder…

Saline filled breast implants

Last night I watched this documentary on the Astro’s 553 channel about this breast augmentation. What so special about it? Well, it was about boob job on males or what they call as pectoral implants. Pectoral implants are a related device used in cosmetic and reconstructive procedures of the male chest wall.

Silicone filled breast implants

Now men also went under the knife you say? Not me, I’m more than satisfy with the shape, size and the look of my breast and that if I have any. This has not only stop for the breast, they have been doing every kind of enhancements such as calves, biceps, triceps and even testicles.

Steroids are just not the "in things" nowaday it seems…