Apo Kono Eh Jang (What's up with you?)

For a person who listens mostly to english songs, I am currently listening to a song which is popular with those from Negri Sembilan or those with Minangkabau heritage (forgive me if I'm wrong =p).

It started with Abah (who's a true Seri Menanti boy) suddenly talking in his Negri dialect. Abah never converse with us in his Negri dialect but if he's excited, you can't help but get a few dashes of his strong Negri roots. We used to be amused whenever we return to Seri Menanti because there, Abah is not the person we know. Abah in Seri Menanti is a kampung boy who is nothing like the city guy we're used to. Mama and us would be left clueless when Abah talks to the villagers using words that were totally foreign.

Well, I'm now getting used to the Negri terms. In fact, I think I can understand the conversations although I can't exactly talk like an 'orang Negori' (a local). The tongue has unfortunately stiffened with the usual Bahasa and English words, no doubt thanks to intensive training over the years. Anyway, after a few words, they started to feel very familiar to the ears. And I was not wrong. Abah was reciting the lyrics to 'Apo Kono Eh Jang' (literally translated as 'What's up with you?').

The song is simply a conversation between a mother and her son who's pining for his lost love. The usage of indirect references that reflect the Negri lifestyle is in one word, beautiful. I don't know whether you'll believe me but once you get over the initial shock (as in the difference in style. The song is not exactly Black Peas material), it is very entertaining. Try googling it or go youtube and you'll find a song that may not be today's idea of entertainment but one that will last.

I've been listening to the song for the past 1 hour. Unbelievable.

Finding the right pair

I drove my parents to Subang Parade today (in a desperate bid to break the Sunday monotony. I do realise that I prefer to spend the weekends at home but there are times when one suddenly gets the urge to head to the nearest shopping mall and today was such a day).

Having left Abah at his most comfortable spot (either Speedy or the sofa set in front of Speedy), Mama and I strolled in and out of Parade's shops. Alright, if you do not know this fact before this, let me tell you a lil secret. I've recently become somewhat a shopaholic. Although I have not exactly reached the level where I can converse with the mannequins, I do weaken at the four letter sign (read: S.A.L.E.) And without realising it, I've collected a fair collection of shoes, handbags and whatever that a person of the female gender requires. Well, the story started with having the need to get a pair of sandals and before I knew it, it became a classic search of finding the right pair. I'm still searching for the perfect pair of sandals/shoes and along the way, I've found the good ones, the better ones, the expensive ones, the affordable ones and yes, even the painful ones (but heck do they look good!). In the process, I learn how to manage my depleting bank accounts, discovered the art of juggling expenses (especially when it comes to end of month) and yes, the heartburns when the credit card bills arrive on my doorstep and the digits seemed to be longer than I had expected, haha.

Anyway, I'm proud to say that I did not buy anything major today. Mama bought two pair of shoes (which is amazing considering she rarely buys shoes nowadays) and I settled on a few picture frames which were incredibly cheap. I mean, those frames were made of solid wood and were on 50% discount! Before I knew it, I took four of those multiple picture frames with the determination of finding the appropriate pictures to be inserted and time to actually put them up on the walls =)

But there were just so many things that caught my eye today. The b.o.n.i.a handbag which Mama agreed was attractive months ago and btw, costs a cool half K is still around with a 20% discount tag on it (mental note: perhaps I could get it when my current handbags are spoiled). There was also this black canvas handbag from Guy Laroche which was pretty cheap (considering the brand) and could be a great travel companion for my travels (did I say I'm headed to Australia this August? Good reason to buy. I could stuff everything inside without worry=p). Sandals were aplenty with various designs from the different brands. While trying them out and imagining how the colour would match some of my outfits, it took sheer determination to return them to their shelves with the consolation that there's either something wrong with the heels or the general design altogether (they should still be around in a few months' time though. Either that or they could be cheaper or the brands would have better designs). While I know I have at least 5 pairs of working court shoes, it did not stop me from trying out the shoes on sale. My stand is that one can never go wrong with black shoes so what's the harm of trying out (and buying more) black shoes? Haha...my friends would lecture me over this.

That is why I felt so proud of myself today. I came, I saw and I stopped myself from buying anything that remotely resembles shoes or handbags! And seriously, I even tried this pair of sandals which costs around RM500, felt good wearing it and sigh, had to put it down. It was either the price or Mama giving me the glare and the 'you better not buy that pair unless you're meeting the Agong' signal from across the shop. But then again, I bought 3 pairs of shoes yesterday (from my outing to Pyramid) which if I may put up a defence, were incredible bargains from good comfortable brands.

Well, perhaps I could make a resolution not to buy anything else until I'm in Australia. Until then, I've to keep the RM on closer watch so that I have more AUDs later =)

Death (almost) came knocking

Yes, death almost came knocking on our (referring to my parents and I) doors last night.

Yesterday was my parents' 29th wedding anniversary and while they did not have any special plan to mark the milestone, we decided to head to my cousin's house somewhere along Jalan Duta, Kuala Lumpur for dinner.

Mama drove the Iswara and I was in the co-driver's seat (since I'm the only one familiar with the Jalan Duta area) while Abah sat in the passenger's seat. I asked Mama to drive to the Court complex while I was chatting with my cousin for the directions to his house. Once we got the directions, we headed towards the traffic lights between the Court and the KL Mosque and waited for the green light.

The traffic light turned green indicating our right of way to turn right. Luckily, Mama somehow couldn't find the 'D' gear and hesitated. And this was the moment that could have reduced our position from 'alive' to 'dead'. Mama's hesitation literally saved our lives as a stupid, reckless driver driving a BLACK PERDANA (that lucky bastard should be thankful that we didn't get his plate number) coming from Matrade's direction (he or she must be back from drinks/dinner at nearby Solaris Mont' Kiara) zoomed downwards despite the traffic lights clearly indicating him and other drivers from his direction to stop. Had Mama found her 'D' gear and turned right as we should, the FCUKING BLACK PERDANA at its high speed would have rammed straight into our car and my family could have died on the spot! Judging from the way the driver sped, it was obvious he thought no cars would be coming from the Court's direction and that he's pretty used to it already. Obviously, even if there are no cars coming from the Court's direction, wait for your turn. And if you can't wait for the lights to turn green, at least reduce your speed and check if there are other cars waiting to cross. A few minutes of delay will not be that big of a deal compared to the thought of killing people! If there are other drivers like him and some poor car decided to stop at the Court complex before turning right, it will be a fatal accident waiting to happen.

Believe me, had that accident happen (which the thought of 'nearly happened' caused my mom to suffer from shock), there would be no way for the idiot to escape as there were other cars waiting at the junction. Even if the police throws the book at that idiot for jumping the red lights and yes, killing a family of three as a result of reckless driving, I will personally summon myself from the dead (if that's possible) and haunt the man until eternity.

To the driver of the Black Perdana who sped in front of the Duta Court complex on 17 April 2010 at approximately 8.45 p.m., YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE AND YES, YOU CAN GO TO HELL. Don't drag others with you.

Of all the gin joints

Bogart's line 'Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine' (which if you do not know, came from Casablanca - the 1940's movie and not the actual place) proved a little close for comfort for me yesterday.

After much deliberation, YPN, MAO and myself chose to eat at this restaurant in Solaris Mont' Kiara for lunch. YPN told us the lunch sets are fantastic considering the price is fixed at RM10 and we were looking forward to a good lunch. Well, since my office moved to a new location, the lunches have been great (if not damaging to the wallets. Imagine food at gourmet prices, sigh). In fact, it was only the other day that YPN, myself and two of the partners had lunch at this place which I believe is the only place which has the words 'Burgers' and 'Salads' plastered over Queen Elizabeth II's image. The restaurant even had the audacity to brand its menu as that of 'Royal's menu' although scones and crumpets are somehow missing from the picture!

Anyway, back to the story at hand.

I ordered the same western lunch set as did YPN and MAO. All were happy tucking in (and on my part, simply loved the strips of tender beef accompanying the pasta. It could be that I'm watching this great korean drama entitled 'Pasta' and hence, my craving for everything Italian and pasta) and chatting until YPN caused me to suffer sudden indigestion. The reason? She saw and informed MAO and I that two of our bosses with an unidentified gentleman were approaching our part of the restaurant (and what I believe as them not noticing us) proceeded to sit at a table exactly opposite ours! And in a true movie replay, I suddenly imagined Bogart saying to Sam (who was the pianist in the movie) those lines. Worst, I could even picture Bogart saying "Of all the expensive restaurants in all of Solaris Mont' Kiara in all of Kuala Lumpur, they walk into where we are having lunch".

From then onwards, our lunch conversations suddenly seemed guarded. The things we chatted about were not exactly scandalous or libelous for that matter but somehow, it's just an uncomfortable feeling when you know your bosses are within hearing range. And that fact is a lil depressing because lunchtime is when we forget (or try to) about work and talk nonsense.

Today, the three of us decided to head to Plaza Damas for a nice Friday lunch. The rest of the office were also headed in the same direction (minus the bosses) but in the end, our little group had lunch at this secluded wine-concept restaurant. The tomato soup was so-so but the spaghetti was unfortunately not that nice compared to yesterday's meal.

Well, at least I did not suffer indigestion today, haha.

And tomorrow is the arrival of the long awaited weekend. Am happy =)

Picture This

Mama was searching for a picture of her recently deceased friend (who died of leukemia) when she stumbled upon the many photo albums stashed away over the years. Unlike other families where pictures are hung on the walls or placed in prime positions around the house, my family somehow ‘hides’ the pictures. Instead of being paraded out in the open, our pictures (framed or otherwise) are kept in drawers, cupboards and other nooks and crannies to collect dust. To prove a point, the wedding pictures of my parents taken close to three decades ago only saw the light of day sometime last month. Pictures of Mama as the shy bride or Abah as the groom (whose expression was fixed to be that of a no-nonsense glare) are now arranged on the mantelpiece bearing striking physical differences with their present counterparts. Haha. As my sisters are already overseas, I took it upon myself to transform the walls of our upstairs’ television room into a display of family pictures. Even then, only those who are allowed to venture upstairs are able to see the pictures. For those who have only been in our living hall, there is no sign of an actual family living in the house.

Anyway, in those albums (and many more albums which I believe, are still trying to be ‘rescued’ out of the wilderness) were pictures of myself in younger years, of my sisters when they were still chubby and cherubic, of people who have since left us for another world and moments captured in time which would otherwise have been forgotten. I even managed to get my hands on Abah's childhood photos which was nothing short of a miracle. Funny thing about our parents is that we never could think they were once kids. And they were kids just like we were before =)

My dad with his brothers (I could spot 4 of my uncles in the picture) and other 4 boys which could be their friends/neighbours [photo circa late 1950's]

My dad is the one standing at the right hand corner

There were pictures of myself in the arms of my paternal grandmother along with my cousin and Abah taken at Port Dickson or pictures of me as a toddler trying to make sense of the cold Genting Highlands with my parents and granny. How I miss my granny so much, words can’t describe the longing. I was even snapped enjoying myself with Abah in the waters of Port Dickson, back in the times when I would not have minded the dirty sticky seawater or the blistering sun which would darken my complexion. If you ask me now, I will say I was definitely crazy. Now, I would only head to the swimming pool with the pseudo-confidence that the water is cleaner (thanks to the enormous amount of chlorine which by the way, affects one’s skin as well. But that’s another story) and I would only swim either in the early morning or evening when the sun could not do that much damage to my skin. I’ve learnt from childhood that no amount of frolics in the sea would be enough to cover the embarrassment of sporting ‘Panda’ eyes to school.

Then, there were pictures to provide snapshots of our family trips. One trip which I could remember was to Penang where we stayed at the famed E&O Hotel before the hotel underwent extensive renovation. I think I was around 6 years old whereas my sisters were 3 and 2 years old respectively. Mama was still with her permed hair (a style which she has left behind ever since she started wearing the headscarf). Another outing was in Langkawi when I was in Secondary One and the family accompanying Abah during part of his sabbatical in Wales, Cardiff.

My two younger sisters and I during one of the Raya gatherings held at my late grandfather's house

My sisters during their toddler years. On a hindsight, I should have impressed upon them then that I'm the Boss and what I say is THE law. I've unfortunately missed the boat.

And photos were a must during every birthday celebration, whether it was mine, my sisters or our cousins. During those years, we would gather without fail to celebrate each other’s birthdays, sing birthday songs and in the process, try to blow the candles first regardless of whose birthday it was. The birthday cakes disappeared as we got older (and replaced by family dinners at restaurants or outings with friends) but these pictures reminded me of a time where one’s birthday could very well be the most important event in the annual calendar! Younger cousins now celebrate their birthdays in the same fashion as we did but we no longer join in the rush to donate saliva onto the birthday cakes (and adding extra flavour to it along the way. Abah until today will not eat any child’s birthday cake which has candles to be blown).

Thanks to Mama, I managed to see pictures of my primary schoolmates at a time where UPSR (the Malaysian standard examination for Primary Six students) was viewed to be the greatest obstacle back then. I chuckled at the sight of my class photos during Primary One-Three and lamented at the disappearance of my Primary Four-Five pictures. One thing for sure, I did not really change much in the height department!

My Primary Two picture. Thanks to my lack of height, I'm always at the front row. Here, I'm sitting second from the right [photo circa 1991]

My Primary Three picture. Again, I'm the one sitting second from the right [photo circa 1992]

I used to hate taking pictures because I don’t see the need to photograph mundane events. Yet, because of the old albums and the precious flashbacks they produced, I now carry a small camera with me everywhere I go. Pictures may be pointless at the time they were taken but no one could afford the precious value of pictures once the moment is gone. With pictures, I am constantly reminded of who I was and I learn to appreciate things in their present state without rushing to grasp the future.

Images of Ipoh

I just got back from Ipoh with my parents. Well, the two day-one night stay was initially meant for a working trip (due to Court matters this morning) but since Mama was keen to visit old family friends staying in Ipoh (and also due to the fact that Sunday was Mama's birthday), it became a work-cum-family holiday.

We left KL Sunday afternoon, opting for a slow leisurely drive on the highway. Having stopped for a late lunch at the Rawang R&R (whose food is, in my humble opinion, is not that great. Well, I judged it based on my own selection. Abah and Mama seemed fine with their meals), we continued the drive and checked into one of Ipoh's hotels.

After a short nap (inter-state driving is not exactly one of my favourite pastimes. It's mentally exhausting to focus on the road especially when you have those who drive lorries/tankers overtaking their colleagues and reduce the traffic to a snail pace. I've also seen a small lorry which was basically tilted to one side and yet, managed to hog both lanes!), we proceeded to find what is according to Mama, old family friends of my late grandparents.

Mama calls them 'Aunty Ani' and 'Uncle Mansur'. I've never met them before (unlike other family friends who I get to see on a regular basis i.e. weddings and other special events. In fact, when I was younger, I got confused as to who were actually my maternal relatives. I thought these family friends were family and my real family members, well, friends. Haha=p) but when I met them in person, I believe time has not passed. They're obviously old (the husband is a sprightly and talkative 77 year old man. The wife is a friendly 70 year old lady who could remember what happened decades ago but whose memory unfortunately weakens in trying to remember what transpired barely minutes ago) but their easygoing demeanor in recalling tales of yesteryears were really endearing. In short, they reminded me of what my biological grandparents could be, especially my maternal grandma who passed away the year before my birth.

Mama with her 'Aunty Ani'.

Tok Mansur showing Tok Ani a picture which he took of her and Mama. See, it shows that technology doesn't elude the 'young'. Either that or because Tok Mansur noticed I've been clicking away earlier =)

On a serious note, Tok Mansur and Tok Ani represent what I believe is existing in all cities save for Kuala Lumpur. The old often spend their twilight years in houses which now no longer hear the echoes of children. Their own children have moved to KL and only return during holidays. For the rest of the year, the two elderly people keep each other company. That fact itself is rather depressing. But they are not the only ones getting used to such a lifestyle as their neighbours are all old people with some even living alone in big houses.

Tok Mansur even made various comments which struck me as infinitely amusing. One of them was that Ipoh is a town that is easy to enter but hard to leave. What I thought was his opinion on the charms of Ipoh turned out to be his frustration with the road signs and funny streets in Ipoh that would cause anyone to easily get lost in the city! I love both of them...their comments were just entertaining, especially their reference to another family friend who despite the old age, keeps 'mencarut' (cursing) all the time!

We left their house soon after with a promise to return again in the near future. It was time for dinner and calls to my friend Akmar (who's an Ipoh girl) solved our problem. She recommended this place called 'Restoran Nasi Lemak Ayam Kampung' which we managed to find after more calls to Akmar. Haha. And where is this place? Well, find that roundabout with the water fountain (which in my opinion, is the focal point in Ipoh. Anywhere you go will mean passing the said roundabout) and head towards the direction of the Railway Station. You'll find a school on your right and a church (Gereja Elim, if I could remember correctly) and turn on the second turning on your left. Then, drive straight until you see the shop on your right. Obviously, I'm not good with directions so take the above with a bucket of salt =p

Nasi Lemak Ayam Kampung served at the restaurant which bears the same name. According to Akmar (who suggested the place upon me asking for a good dinner venue), it's one of the popular dishes in Ipoh town.

This morning, my parents accompanied me to Court. From our hotel, we had to pass the roundabout and headed towards the Railway Station (which is situated near the Court). The thing about reaching Court is that I would rely on this particular shop called 'Chennai Potty' before making the turn that would eventually see me driving in front of St. Micheal's school. Two notes here - first, if Chennai Potty disappears, there goes my unofficial 'safe' route to Court. Second, St. Micheal's is just superb (as like other missionary founded schools). I love big sprawling old schools with Latin motto. They have so much history unlike the new schools which are nothing better than factories with no sense of legacy. If I had my choice, I would have preferred to study in those schools rather than the boring SMKs. As usual, I've digressed away from the main topic =)

Below are pictures of the recent trip and that of my earlier trip to Ipoh with two of my close Uni mates. The thing that I love about Ipoh is the abundance of her old whitewash buildings made of solid bricks such as the Court, the Railway station, the little coffee shops and the sprawling colonial bungalows. I like the fact that Ipoh's buildings have none of the modern glass structures which have invaded Kuala Lumpur. People tend to welcome modernity but what we fail to realise or appreciate is the beauty of heritage. What is the point of securing a future (or a semblance of it) when we don't have a sense of history?

Akmar and Sya, my travelling companions. Note the year underneath the golden statue. It reads '1928' - the year the Court building was constructed. Imagine how many pictures have been taken with that statue as the backdrop.

One of the many exteriors of the Court. I love old buildings with big windows and roman pillars. Doesn't it seem majestic and just commands a sense of respect?

The girls waiting in the public gallery. Note the sturdy wooden benches and yes, the absolutely marvellous big windows. Sorry about my repeated references of the Court's big windows.

The three of us in front of another whitewash building. I don't exactly know what the building is for (need to check with Akmar first) but if I understood her explanation correctly, it's some kind of Town Hall =)

Why did two girls try to cross the road? To get to that big building (which is the same building as the picture before) =p

Sya & I in front of the Railway Station

The rustic charms of a real Ipoh Old Town Coffee shop =)

The three of us waiting for our breakfast

I managed to snap a picture of Abah and Mama upon leaving Court

Note: This entry was solely upon Abah's request.

Today marks the beginning of tomorrow

The legal firm which I'm working for, will be moving to our new office premises tomorrow. That will be the day where most of us (except myself and MAO who are unfortunately stuck with Court matters) will -

(a) abandon our usual (read: boring) get-up and settle for the casual look; and

(b) flex our muscles (if any) and direct the movers to get the stuff safely from the old office to the new place. Were you thinking that we'll flex our muscles by lifting those heavy boxes? If you answer was yes, think again. Doubt anyone who rates typing on the keypad as a form of exercise will turn into a Hulk in a day =p

As I told MAO, the feeling is a mixture of everything. There's happiness (perhaps because we will be closer to the restaurants in Solaris Mont' Kiara. Hence, there are more options on how to spend Friday night and flatten our wallets in the process), anticipation (to see how our new office will look like. Forgive the kaypohchi-ness, will you?) and yes, a tinge of sadness at leaving the place which, despite it's notorious peak hour traffic mess and parking problems, was my 'home' for the last 3 years. Heck, I even said goodbye to the man who runs the western foodstall when I reached office at 5.30 p.m. today.

I've said goodbye to Fish Tank in an earlier entry. Now, it's time to bid farewell to the office itself (or what is left of it) with the pictures below.

I know a picture of staircases can be lame but this is the part where I would either trudge up or down with my trolley bag to the carpark. For that, the picture deserves a spot.

Picture taken from what used to be our firm's library. If you noticed the door by the wrapped sofa set, that's the door that leads to our working area.

Part of our library. Books ready to see their new home.

There are other pictures (taken in between breaks of packing stuff. Talk about multi-tasking) but hmm...let some pictures remain hidden from the seeing eyes (if there are even people reading this blog in the first place).

May take more pictures of the new office once we've settled in. Note the word 'may' =p

Dear Wolfgang

Dear Wolfgang,

When I was studying music, your name was included in the 'must know' composers. Unlike J.S. Bach, Beethoven, Chopin and many more greats of the classical music world, you were, in short, the boy wonder who left us far too early. Your tunes were as famous (if not more) as the mystery surrounding your death. In fact, my sister and I went in search of things that were linked to you like visits to your house where you were born (in Salzburg) and also to your house in Vienna near Stephensplatz back in 2007. We would have visited your resting place if we knew where it was exactly but since that was not possible, we paid our respects to your golden statue in the middle of Vienna.

[*personal note: I have taken pictures but again, am very lazy to post it. Will do when I find the time...and that's a big 'When']

And tonight, I heard your music being performed live by the Malaysian Philharmonic Orchestra in what was aptly titled 'A Little Mozart Evening'. Under the animated baton of the marvelous Mr. Christian Arming and the playfully passionate Mr. Barnabas Kelemen as the violin soloist, your Eine Kleine Nachtmusik, Violin Concerto No. 3 in G major and Symphony No. 40 in G minor were very much alive. Much as I thank the superb MPO for the breathtaking performance (as they always do, each time), I believe you have left us with an eternal gift in the form of your music. Most of your tunes are easily recognised (one is even popular as a ringtone) but not many of us appreciate that they were the creation of one Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.

The programme book for yours truly who was too lazy to do some prior readings

The ticket that admits one into an evening of Mozart's tunes

On another note (which has nothing to do with Wolfgang), I finally set foot in Pavillion Kuala Lumpur. Ok, I'm a loser, I know. Pavillion has been around for quite some time but I never found the time to actually reach Pavillion. That was one excuse. Another more lame reason could be that I could get seriously lost in exploring the terrains of KL roads. Anyway, went for a quick spin around Pavillion (since Fadh and I were rushing for time. Trip to Pavillion was an impromptu diversion since there was some time before our Mozart show). We ended up having a tea-dinner combo at The Loaf where I got myself a slice of Tiramisu =). Fadh got herself a mixture of pastries including what I believe is the famous 'Uh-hu-hu' delicacies.

It's RM14 for the small piece of Tiramisu. It's delicious but man, why must it be so freaking expensive?!