And yet more cards from the card caves !

This do-it-yourself card from a re-cycled stationary was given to me by my youngest daughter when  she was but 4 years old . 

She gave it to me before she was 'old' enough for Primary one as she wanted so much to go to school. Note that Mana, our cat was one of the signatories.

Another card from my cove !

This was given to me by my students. They know how much I like the pandas (the bear) ---thus the choice !. Look closely - we were all depicted as one !So you see-- pandas are no big deal to me !!! Mind you this was in 2005 or 2006...

Cards from my cove !

I had a heart-attack in 1995 and I guess it must have been a shock to everyone. At that time my sister was in UK . Anyway , I was discharged after two weeks and received this card through the mail . Even in my condition then , I still enjoyed the humour in the card and the messages !

Yes Iain and Nor -- I still keep it !

Am I still the real ‘me’ ?

Yes am I still the real me ? after all these years. The real me as defined by some tests concocted by a Consultancy services provider and using ‘management system’ from the Thomas International Management System !

When I was attached to a a big corporate properties developer, they believe so much in the services of ‘consultants’ that it became a joke among us and simply shorten their name to ‘CON-MEN”.

I remember having to attend all sorts of courses and undergo all sorts of ‘tests’ from these con-men. By chance I found one of the results.

Of course the good descriptions are true (heheheheh) and the rest all come from the con-men. Hahahahahahahh !!!!

Good 'ol Said !

His Mom, sis and Dad

No Said is not a verb but was a student of mine from Uzbekistan. He was barely 18 when he first joined my class. The minute he came in , I knew he was going to be one of the cheekiest students I ever had. And my instinct was right.

His Tom Cruise look was an instant hit among the girls in his class --and the other classes as well. His eyes would sparkle when he speaks and his smile would be contagious.

But he was lost . When he first came , he could not adjust to the weather, the food, the language and just about everything else.

However I made sure he accepted the situation . I made him him talk about his country ( which was an eye-opener for me and I had had many interesting talks with him.)

As time gets along he became more himself. He started talking more personal things about himself, his family, his girlfriend(s) and his schooldays, his dreams, his regrets and his hopes.

I told him to mix around and get to know the locals--both males and females.

Soon , I was beginning to get feedback from him on how he was approached by the girls every time he sits in the library (which I told him to do ).

He was missing his family so much that in a way , I became his family. His personal problems became a normal frank discussion with me.I constantly reminded him to mix around and get as much as he can from while in Malaysia.

And this he did !

He joined a 'silat' class in Keramat near the Jelatek train station. He was so interested in it that after about a year, he told me his instructor had begun to teach him how to massage and simple cures to ailments.

Next thing I knew, he told me that he was approached by somebody to do photo-shoots for advertisement. It started with still-shot and soon he went on to do advert clips of mobile phones, shampoo and a host of other consumer product.

One day, his family came to visit him. And the family and he himself made it a point to meet me. It was such a pleasure to meet them .

And I am happy to know that he is now pursuing a degree programme in business in a private university somewhere in Damansara.

We still keep in touch with each other and he never forgets to send his greetings and wishes on Hari Rayas and my birthdays.

Said , when you read this, remember what I always told you -"'Go for it !"

Punctuation sound ???

I was introduced to this man, a pianist and comedian , by my brother-in-law. Heres one where hegave sounds to punctuations.

and , his other comedies.

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MORE TO 'Why photos of Cameron Highland ?'

I'm not saying  anything now, you hear ! 

But do you know that for the an apartment as pictured in the previous posting, the rate is only about RM260 for a weekend ? The manager slao said that they would allow 10 people to an apartment but I suppose 15 could easily stay there --even without the management's knowledgement. They also provide cooking facilities and utensils!

My friend just came back from his regular break ( he goes there just about every month) last weekend and said it was the coldest he had ever experienced at Camerons . How nice !!! It beats being in this sweltering heat here.

I know a student from Ipoh and she was a regular also .Must ask her if she knows a better bargain --- just out of curiousity , thats all !

Why photos of Cameron Highland ?

I don't know why I'm posting these photos. Some are from the website 2 or 3 are my own collection.The last three are photos of apartments for rent.mmmm Why am I posting these ????Can it be..............

HELLPPP!!!!

HELP ! I'VE DONE IT AGAIN !

The idle mind always got me into trouble ! Don't ask me how or why ! but I have lost all my blog list !]

I've done a back-up , got all , BUT my blog-list !

So to all the members  here , please, please, please give me your your blog address through the comments section so that I can re-do them again !

(That'll will keep me busy !)

The Hornets' Nest

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You see helas !

You have stirred the hornets' nest .

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Incriminating Memoirs !

“anak si-hamid said...
Yes Mus,
Do write down all your mischief at PPES. Remember that time Jeevan threw a stone at your head and mak had to rush you to the hospital. You were literally stitched up. I guess that knock made you worse than ever.
It's alright to put down all your antics. Shah, Mariam and Hana are all grown up and they can't use it against you
Don't forget your stories of truanting at Pasir Panjang Secondary School.
June 5, 2009 4:41 PM”


The above is my sister’s comment in reply to mine to her posting, “Gaudeamus Igitur – PPES”. Perhaps I will do it after massive censorship. I don’t know why I’m writing this, so anyway sis, this is for you.

1.For starters, Jeevan was a good buddy of mine. We were playing a game which didn’t require the throwing of stones – but he did, and I got it, right on my forehead with a gushing wound, Soon a waterfall of blood covered my face, and people were running around shouting and screaming.

The funniest thing is that I do not remember crying. But I DO remember my sister scolding Geetha, Jeevan’s sister. Anyway soon I was brought home after being given first aid. (The school authorities thought I didn’t need medical attention--@#$#@!@#)
When my father cane home, he was so furious and took me to hospital where it required about 5 stitches. I believe he went to the school and told off the Principal for not sending me for proper medical attention.

2.Like I said Jeevan was a good mate ! He comes from a rich family and his dad was some big shot at the Singapore Port Authority. One Saturday a month, he would invite his class-mates for a tea-party. And we ‘kampung-boys’ would wallop all the goodies served plus the aerated water ( a real treat at that time for us).

However, heres the catch. At the end of it, he would quietly asked his servant to lock the main gate and at the right moment---horrors of horrors----he would release his dog ! A mad scramble followed ! Boys were climbing all over his furniture and running into his family members’ bedroom ! And he would be rolling on the floor laughing..

Of course the dog was actually playing but being young Muslims boys at that time, we were all terrified of just by the thought a dog !

The last I heard –Jeevan is a doctor somewhere in northern India.

2. Before my sister moved on to Secondary school, I couldn’t really show my true colour. So I HAD to behave. But when she continued to secondary school, I was ‘free’. No one to watch over me. I think I was like a wild horse gone berserk ! Even the teachers who knew the Hamid’s kids well told me so !

Anyway we had an Indian male teacher whowm we didn’t like. Mr Kenayan was his name. It was our final year in primary school. Us boys were playing self-made dart at the back of the class. It was my turn to pluck the darts from the soft board and return ed them to the throwers.

Then it came to me of pointing to a spot on the white board and shouted “ ‘kena’ here “ meaning ‘ you got it here’ and slowly changing it to ‘kenayan’ .

So there I was, kept changing positing of my finger and shouting ' "kena" here ' ,"kena" here ' ,"kena" here ' ,"kena" here ' ,

Everybody was laughing and I shouted louder. Then there was silence and all I remembered was, I was whacked very hard on the side of my head. I turned around and ---there was Mr Kenayan with looks enough to kill school boys !

Don’t need to tell what happened after that!

3. Poor Mr Kenayan—after that everybody called him Mr Kenahere—even the other teachers.

One day he was writing on the board and I came up with the idea of using paper pellets, dipped it in ink and using a long ruler to flip it so that it hit the back of Mr Kenayan. Poor man—that day his white shirt was so splattered with ink.

4. In that school, the wall separating the classes did not reach the ceiling. So there was a gap. Often we would use paper missiles to ‘shoot’ the other class. Of course the missiles would be dipped in ink.

5. As mentioned in anaksihamid's posting, we had a very big field. And right at the end of it , the watchman had his tapioca and vegetable garden. I was one of the guilty ones who would pull out the tapioca and had our own ‘small barbecue’, in the gardens of course.

My classmates told me that from the classroom, they could see the young tapioca plants being shaken as we were trying to pull it off the ground. I believe I was caned for this when the watchman made a complaint after trying to advise us with no results.

6. The scool faced a hill slope with trees , bushes and 'lallangs'. Fro the corridor outside the outside the office, the view of this impending hill slope was clear. I was in the afternoon session and my mates and I would come early to have our 'fun' before starting school. One day we decided to climb the hill facing the school.

Then we came across this fruit tree ( can't remember what tree though). Anyway we climbed the tree and were eating the fruits of 'our labour' and laughing away. Of coursewe could see the school, the office and the teachers. It was fun laughing at them - we thought.

Then we heard the bell rang. We saw the students assembling and walking to the classes AND we saw a group of teachers outside the the office pointing at us. Within seconds, the office boy, servant and watchman were at the foot of the tree calling us to come down.

In today's language, we 'kantoi' big time. We were taken to the office and remembered the drill and just waited for the 'rewards'

There were others but those were just normal schoolboys’ pranks. But in Secondary….ahhh that’s different.


7. In secondary school, we started mixing with students from the new ‘housing estates ‘ or flats from areas like Queenstown, Queensway , Tiong Bahru , Redhill and the like. Here, the urban life was introduced to me. The kampong boys had to do a lot of adjustment.

Drainpipes, folded sleeves, greasy hair and cigarettes were the way of life.

We had students from the above housing estates coming to schools with razor blades. They would come to you while you were seated and giving the wrong answers to their questions will gain you a short slash from the razor blade on your thighs.

Anyway I got to know a few Chinese boys from these areas, became good friends and that saved me from the local young wannabe ‘Mafias’. Music was the common ground and we soon formed a band and I became ‘over-involved’ with them that it affected my studies---ahhh but that’s another story.

My first year in Secondary was also the time I had my first girlsfriend. I was so innocent and naïve when it came to to boy-girl relationship. What do you expect from a 13/14 year old school boy !Thats the time also when I realised the weaker gender matures much much sooner than the male species !

I was receiving a letter on my desk every morning. I used to read it and threw it away. But the letter kept coming everyday and it was unsigned. At that time I thought it was not macho to have a girlfriend. Anyway , I finally got to know her and we were “together” for a few months.

Hahahahaahahah such puppy love !

Then , second year of secondary school life ...and my first first Chinese girlfriend which went on for two years . Imagine that !

And I began to enjoy the company of the opposite sex and like I’ve written somewhere:-

“All my books,
Were women’s looks,
And troubles all they’ve brought me “

OK without revealing too much of my evil ways---I ‘d better stop here Nor---until I get more courage to write more on my secondary school life and worst still---my college life.

For now......

Found this picture which truly depicts my mood..... Such a simple photo yet so full of emotion. I'll get over this mood ...soon...

A SIMPLE TRIBUTE TO MY DEAREST MANA.

I've been thinking a lot about Mana lately. I was at my sister's house and looking at the spot where we buried him ---- and i missed him, and still do... There were times when I would be leaving for work and could just see him sending me off as he always did. Whenever I was at the computer before I leave for work, again I could just see him coming into the room mewing away chasing me off to work - not because he cared , but because he wanted to continue his sleep. Wherever you are Mana-- I still miss you--and thank you for the good times and love .







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By the way this song is by Chyi, originally from Taiwan and later moved to USA to do her Phd., got married and came back to Taiwan. She never did completeted her studies, and she also lost her husband - but her music continued to give her fame. here is the lyrics.

Stories

I remember quite clearly now when this story happened.

The autumn leaves were floating and measured down to the ground.

Recovering the lake where we use to swim like children

On the sun would dare to shine

That time, we used to be happy, Well, I thought we were

But the truth was that-- you had been longing to leave me

Not daring to tell me

On that precious night watching the lake vaguely conscious

You said: Our story was ending.

Now I'm standing here, No one to wipe away my tears

No one to keep me warm, And no one to walk along with

No one to make me feel, No one to make me while

OH! What am I to do?

I'm standing here alone, It doesn't seem so clear to me

What am I supposed to do about this burning heart of mine

OH! What am I to do?, Or how should I react?, OH! Tell me please!

The rain was killing the last days of Summer

You had been killing my last breath of love, Since a long time ago

I still don't think I am gunna make it through another love story

You took it all away from me

And there I stand, I knew I was gonna be the .....The one left behind.

But still I'm watching the lake vaguely conscious

And I know---My life is ending.

YOU'RE A GOOD SPORT AMAR !

OK, First , today he is not as late as he usually is. That is a nice change. Then, before we wrap up the class, he proved to be a good sport and entertained us with a bollywood song.

For that Amar, I take off my hat to you ! (Although I did wonder why he's wearing a hat today )

Yes--you're ok lad !
I am sure sheila is dying to see this !

(I'm still sorry about the orientation of the video. It only happens when I'm shooting amar !)

Kingston Town../ Please Don't Make Me Cry

Love this....also by UB40..This is nostalgia time tonight....

HOW CAN ANYONE NOT MOVE AND FEEL HAPPY WITH THIS BEAT !

One in Ten

Reggae -- great music. Here's one by UB40 (there can't be that many white reggae band).   They play some great music and great songs.  This is called 'One in Ten ", and I like the lyrics as well.

I am a one in ten a number on a list,
I am a one in ten even though i don't exist.
Nobody knows me, but im always there,
A statistic a reminder of a world that doesn't care

My arms enfold the dole queen,
Malnutrition dulls my hair,
My eyes are black and lifeless
With an underprivileged stare
I'm the beggar on the corner
Will no-one spare a dime
I'm the child that never learns to read
Because no on spared the time.
(Chorus)
I'm the murderer and the victim
The licence with the gun
I'm a sad and bruised old lady
In an ally in a slum
I'm a middle aged businessman
With chronic heart disease
I'm another teenaged suicide
In a street that has no trees
(Chorus)
I'm a starving third world mother
A refugee without a home
I'm a house wife hooked on Valium
I'm a Pensioner alone
I'm a cancer ridden spectre
Covering the earth
I'm another hungry baby
I'm an accident of birth.

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Oh Boy! What a 'debate' today !

We had an informal debate toaday and , what a laugh! Wish I had recorded the whole of that 'star's speech. Anyway here it is.

I tried to rectify the video but I couldn't make it vertical. Sorry about that !

Last Thursday !

Last Thursday we took a trip to Lorong T-shirt in Central Market to do what seems to be the trend in KLMU lately -- customized T-shirts ! Above is a photo of it and we hope to get it soon. It costs us RM35 for a collared t-shirt . And please, there is no malice or prejudice in this ya. We want to keep it that way. I'm not selling them but if anyone is interested do tell me by Thursday .

UPDATES

1. HELAS............1