43/52

52project
"A photograph of what I'm grateful for/my child;
once a week, every week." 

Someday, baby girl... someday.

Was watching Paul Walker in Hours, where throughout the struggle, the baby finally survived on her own and cried for the first time. She was picked and placed on the chest of her father.

Then A and I both were surprised to hear another crying coming from our bedroom.
She was laying by my side watching the movie along and suddenly she was in the room
after the final scene. Crying ever so sadly.

Wonder what she was up to, I went on to check.
This is of her common act these days to show she's sulking. But out of nowhere?
Why, I wonder.

So I asked why is she so sad.

"Nak babyyyy jugakkk..."
"Nak adikkkk tapi tak dapatttt ponnn"

= ____ ="

So I explained it's within Allah's decree to grant us the blessing.
All we can do now is be patient. I made her promised that when the time comes,
she will be a good big sister.

Told her not to be sad, coz I've been fine all these while,
that her being sad will break my heart.


Trust me it's annoying for people to think it is intentional. 
Keep the unintentional comment aside, say a silent prayer instead - better yet,
for your own insensitive heart.
  • Monday, October 20, 2014

42/52

52project
"A photograph of what I'm grateful for/my child;
once a week, every week." 

Starting on a new notebook as my 2013's running out of empty space.

It was last 2 years when I saw it on my superior's table  among all other diaries courtesy of our clientele. Was pleased he willingly gave it to me as he had one too many :D

In my class, I was known as someone who had had problems completing my homework that I'd get whipped on multiple occasions and still come with blank pages (which might be completed
under the desk while the teacher is teaching). I hardly compose a weekly essay assignment where I always had a great intro followed by imaginary content in an empty space.
It is so common that as the teacher walked in, the first thing she asked is for me to stand up for a whip, even if I managed to accomplish a good write-up that week and for all those excruciating time, I would like to apologize to my fellow classmates for the terror I put them through.
Trust me, I feel very sorry and not proud of it.

It took months before the PMR for the teachers to convince me - it’s not about the outcome but the commitment and for the teachers to be convinced - not to worry about the outcome.

My essays were made exemplary a couple of times even when I was out of the school.
The habit and exemplar continued to my next school.

So you may guess where I'm standing when it comes to education.

But I was told I’m a perfectionist which I strongly detest.
And Nakisha rephrased “Because for you, it’s all or nothing. Homework specific.”
I had to agree.

I realized that I 'might' secretly feel everything that comes out of/through me is a masterpiece... or at least something of 'worth' which shall not be deliberate as routine tasks. This also answers to my cooking, as I am never capable of meeting the routine expectation.

A decade ago, I told Shera my 2nd year pointers had an exponential growth. To which I answered her “How?” question with, “I have a cool notebook and I make sure no blank space for the note of the day! If I missed a point, I’ll strive to fill it up so I don’t miss any!” Literal, yeah I know.

To which she flatly answered, “That issss soooo you...
I know homework don’t apply. But I’m happy for you.”

These days, during all-girls meet-ups, I sometimes get
“Tak paham betul how you get where you are” followed with
“Dulu dia ni malas betul buat homework!” + laughter (minus mine).

It’s ok, that is even better rather than,
“Dulu dia ni gedik/perasan/berlagak betul!”



p/s: This post shall also justify my 52 weeks project lack of updates :P
  • Wednesday, October 15, 2014

22/52

52project
"A photograph of what I'm grateful for/my child;
once a week, every week." 

A380. MH 21 : CDG-KUL

Here I am, 37 000 feet above the ground.
As I'm writing this, a Hospital Pantai cardialogist is sleeping next to me, my cubicle. I seldom express my gratitude in words as I find nothing can describe it. But I had just finished watching Indonesian '9 Summers 10 Autumns', I'm so overwhelmed with feelings,
I should just capture them in my writing.

Despite the feeling of gratefulness that sometimes wash over me, I always find myself taking things lightly for they are not my first time... Though a lot of things impressed me, I sometimes crave for the feeling of naivete. The first experience. The first impression. These days, eventhough they're the first of kind, I find myself hardly taking it in like my first times.

I do not want the feeling to fade with time, with experience, with multiple repetitions. Because the path I'm strolling is not ordinary. I'm impressed. Not with myself. But the path.
And everything along the path.

We always believe and are grateful that we're the chosen ones.
Out of inconvenient circumstances, we are chosen to represent the credibility of the department. And enjoying the privileges that come with it. To hop continents is one thing,
right to experiencing the world through duty travel in business coach FOC.

I've never pictured myself in a corporate world.
I believe I'm not cut for it. It's simply not my thing.
But now I am experiencing the same world under technical capacity.
I know this is out of ordinary. Putting your opinion out in a room full of world class aviation technical experts, talking to them like good old friends, if not your own uncle;
attending corporate meetings and dinners with the important people, if not the bosses.
How can I not be grateful?

If you told me half a decade ago, I would not believe I'd be doing all these. I was even thinking of changing the course of the path into something totally out of the way as in training or teaching.
But I still do train and teach :)

I once saw a primary school friend back home and she was surprised with the field I am in. 
"Your wish came true," she said. 
I forgot how early I started. I only recall the time the whole class validated my dream to be a pilot before being shot down by one of the best RMAF fighter pilot as I was short-sighted.
I was only 15. I decided to be the aircraft engineer instead.

And my path leads me to it. Allah has written it well. Very well. Perfectly tailored to me. 
He has placed me in the best position of its kind.

I have gotten back my perfect eyesight (other post to follow)
and I'm forever grateful I am not a pilot.
  • Tuesday, May 27, 2014