I love her. I’m not joking. Some of my cousins find her annoying because she will ask you a million questions on the drama you’re watching together, she will talk about everything and anything under the sun, she will wake you up at 10am and tell you that it’s late and you need to get up and yes, like all old wrinkly people, she can’t hear properly so you might have to repeat again and again. But yes, despite it all, I love her.

I think I have this weird habit of getting attached to old people. I find them fascinating. I observe every wrinkle they have on their face and wonder, what hardship did she went through? How was she like when she was young? Was she like me? Carefree and so full of life?

Sometimes when she’s eating, I stare at her face, munching munching with her dentures. Sometimes, when she’s praying, I wonder what does she ask from God? She prays a lot. Every time of the day, every prayer possible, even in the middle of the night, she wakes up and prays. I wonder what it’s like to be able to devote your life to God. You no longer chase worldly possessions because you know you’re gonna meet Him anytime soon and you’ve got to be prepared because there’s not much time left.

She’s not my real grandmother, but I’m sure I will be devastated when she leaves me.

I need to stop writing sad entries but I can’t help it. I think my number one fear in life is losing the people I love and its just something I find very very very difficult to come to terms with.

On a lighter note, here’s a convo we had just now.

Me: Nenek, sekarang dalam MRT banyak seh orang Cina, India. Tak banyak orang Melayu. (Grandma, usually right in the train I see lots of Chinese and Indian people only. I seldom see Malays)

Nenek: Ye ke?! Banyak ke mayat mayat Cina, India tu?! (Really?! You see lots of dead bodies of Chinese and Indian people?!)

Me: ?!?!?!?!

Nenek: Kau kata kau nampak banyak orang mati? (You said you saw a lot of dead people?!)

Me: HAHAHAH Bukan mati la nek, saya naik MRT!!!!! (Not dead people lah!, I just took the MRT!)

*Mati (die) and MRT kinda sounds the same.

End my 3 hour lesson -> Train to somewhere in the east -> Aman fetches me at the train station of somewhere in the east -> Pray Maghrib -> Eat! -> Aman sends me to the bus stop -> 168 -> I sleep all the way -> Home

We had Domino’s. It was so good. It was pretty random actually, we were driving towards Tamp’s Teh Tarik cos I’ve been craving for something that can be dipped in cili padi + thin soy sauce (usually noodles/soup/fried fish soup) and so we drove past Domino’s and I went…heyyyyyy, is that Domino’s? and because we’ve been together for very long, Aman knows what that means and he goes “yeah, you want?” and turns right in for the carpark.

IT WAS SO GOOD. Or maybe cos I was really starving but I don’t care the breadstix is the bomb!!!!! Its their version of garlic bread but theirs come with this super wonderful garlicky powder on top of the soft gemok bread. Bliss.

Chips I got from the Japanese supermarket at Tamp 1.

I’ve been reading this book Ma’alim fi al-Tariq (Milestones/Petunjuk Sepanjang Jalan) by Syed Qutb (translated). Oh my, its a really good one. He wrote it when he was in jail to be sentenced to death cos he was part of the Muslim Brotherhood party in Egypt (I think they were fighting for Islamic governance). The book is so wonderfully written, you can feel how much he loves Allah and how he fights for Islam until the end. At first, I couldn’t get why he wrote certain things, only when I found out that he wrote it while awaiting his death sentence, I begin to realise and understand his words. In the end, he was sentenced to death but masyAllah, he left behind such great books.

Here’s the link for the ebook

http://www.kalamullah.com/Books/MILESTONES.pdf

http://alambuku.tripod.com/pdf/Petunjuk%20Sepanjang%20Jalan.pdf

“The violence with which the Brothers were treated in 1954 based on an incident contrived for them and not devised by them which is al-Manshiyyeh incident… established the idea of retaliation by force against aggression if it is repeated.  If we had known that arrest is merely an arrest, which ends up with a fair trial and legal penalties – even on the basis of positive laws, which are in effect… nobody would have thought of retaliation by force against aggression. I know that there is no practical value now in deciding upon this truth.  However it is a truth which I must record in my last words.”

Sayyid Qutb (On the eve of his execution in 1966)

Today, the Muslim Brotherhood’s political party has been voted to govern Egypt during the recent election.

Anws, what does this have to do with my mum’s picture? Oh, its my dad’s old book, he got it in 1979. I was reading and found a picture of my mum inside. Haha!

 Byebye!

Anyways, like allllllll the couples in the world, Aman and I have nicknames for each other too. I’ve lost count actually but lately, I’ve come up with a new one.

Me: HEY SUNSHINEEEEEEEEEEEEE *drag the e to the max in a very cheery gila voice*

A: Hey

(I don’t know if its just allll boys but he can sometimes be very -.-)

Me: Hello, I greet you so happily you only say hey back?!?!

A: Okay, Hello moonlight.

Me: WHY.

A: Cos I’m fairer than you, you’re a bit dark, so at night, moonlight.

*facepalm*

My previous entry was super emokid right I know. At times, I reprimand myself for writing those type of entries cos I feel like I hate showing people my emoside? But I’m only human and writing’s one of those very few things which keeps me sane especially when I’m feeling down and low, you know what I mean, jellybean?

But now, I’m okay! Man, life is beautiful syukur alhamdulillah.

Anyways, was at Metro just now to get the highly raved Revlon lip butter since they’re having their 20% off. So what happened was..

Me: Hi, where’s the testers for the lip butters?

Sales Aunty: Here, come I put for you, the best shade for your face! *pushes me to sit down on the chair*

Me: o.o

Sales Aunty: You know ah, your face too plain (I went out bare-faced today amaciammmmmm hehehehehe). Come, I put for you foundation.

Me: 0_0

Sales Aunty: You see now so pretty? Come I put for you mascara! Close your eyes gegerl!

Me: >.<

Sales Aunty: Okay, what we’re missing now is blusher ah and earthy eyeshadow like Jessica Alba here! *points at the poster* K now so pretty, you get all the products ok?!

Me: No. I just want my Macaroon lip butter.

Aunty confirm dalam hati menyumpah.

I reach home. I crawl under my duvet, decided that I wasn’t feeling it so I lay on the floor, spread my limbs like the eagle flying searching for its prey and count to 100. In that 100 silence seconds, I see my 14 year old self, sitting on the bathroom floor, feeling the slight tiny stings, a heart split open and thought, is this it? Am I back to square one again?

They say old habits die hard. I sure as hell which they’re wrong. This is why I don’t like silence. I hear all my thoughts at once, the crazy, sad, angry, happy ones and I get even messed up than before.

i need to put myself first before i cave in every single time.

TAKE ONE FOR THE TEAM!

My coursemates/goodfriends and I were super hyper today we kept screaming this quote at every single thing.

Y: You mean, I have to stay here alone? and you guys go to the lab?

Me: Its ok Yati, TAKE ONE FOR THE TEAM!

(we gave her a kitkat chunky bar btw for doing that heheh)

S: Ala why you don’t want to pray with me at the musolla?!

Me and A: We want to solat in the Geog lab lah!

S: Okay lah, I TAKE ONE FOR THE TEAM

After lesson..

A: Okay you guys wanna tumpang my car right?

Me, S &Y: NAK

A: Okay eh now my turn TAKE ONE FOR THE TEAM!

In the car..

Me: Um, tmrw I bring graph paper k for tutorial. My turn to TAKE ONE FOR THE TEAM (Y)

I think..this entry makes no sense to you so I’m sorry but its really funny to me and its something I wanna jot down cos its such a happy memory (:

Byebye!

My bestfriend met me in her pajama pants. Sometimes I want to pengsan when I see her lol. I’m kidding. Pajama pants or baju butterfly, I love you all the same.

I know its really unglamorous and baju butterfly is so makcik2 but I swear, the most comfortable sleepwear ever. Beats everything from la senza or VS, confirm. I wanted to buy this cos it literally screamed baju butterfly but aiyah, I think the nyonya sensed that I loved it so she hiked up the price. Too ex. Btw, do you know that they call it baju relax now? Lol.

We laughed like hyenas when we saw this Donut shop brochure. I got excited cos they had one named Gossip Girl.

Or maybe you want one Old and Confused? (Lol I wonder what I’ll sound like if I were to order that)

Byebye!

Anyyyyyywayz. I’m digressing but the main point of this random entry is that to be honest, I can never be a doctor because I hate hospitals. I used to have a good relationship with em’, I love the vending machines with their 50 cents grape soft drink concoction, the smell of hand sanitisers, the funny apeks and nyonyas screaming for the nurses “Missy..Missy..saya mau kencing..” HAHA. Believe me, you’ll hear that all the time.

This relationship went downhill when I was 7. My grandmother got sick and hospitalised. I remember long waiitng hours in the common room. I remember staring at the vending machine with so much hate. I remember uncomfortable sofas and my grandma’s tired face. I remember crying in the hallway because I did not understand why everyone’s mood was so sombre.

and then she died.

That relationship I once had with hospitals? Gone. It was as if I yanked it out of my heart, slammed it down the asphalt road and rammedit again and again with a cement truck.

Then when I was 18, the whole cycle repeated again. My grandfather got hospitalised, I spent days and nights sleeping beside him and then he left me.

I think the most bitter of memories begins at the hospitals. I feel so forced to say that there’s happy ones every single day as well. The moment when the doctor welcomes a new baby, a new human being who completes the lives of a pair of husband and wife. I’m sorry. I’m just so bitter because there are times (like now hence the random entry) when I’m hit with the cold hard truth that I have no grandparents and the final memory I have of them is of them lying on the hospital bed promising that they’d try their best to live and then they left.

Most of the time, we go there for the 50 cents cup of coffee (cheaper than coffee shop) and baby, its no normal coffee okay. Grinded from God knows what coffee beans, the lovely concoction accompanied by 2 packets of sugar and creamer. BLISS I TELL YOU.

We sip our coffee and have long long long conversations about everything and anything under the Sun ( we were trying to remember what we gave each other for our 4th anniversary just now. We were both lost cases. Short term memory or maybe this is what happens when you’ve celebrated too many annis lol) and the best part, its refillable. YES 50 CENTS REFILLABLE COFFEE HELLO YOU MUST BE NUTS NOT TO BE ENTICED BY IT (unless if you don’t drink coffee lah that one exception, you not nuts ok)

I wrote that for fun (its a scene from the movie Click) and we were tryna think what the reply was.

If you don’t understand arabic, it means, (forever and ever always, my love)

:’)

Such rare moments when Aman expresses his love for me HAHAHHAHA.

Ok bye.