Friday, July 18, 2014

Come Back

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Having been in the aviation industry myself. Lord knows how much it saddens me to receive the piece of news that we have lost yet another flight. Another muted tragedy of lost souls. Voices yearning to be heard but probably never will. 

It hits home. 

It feels personal.

More than just another tragedy, another mishap, you feel like you've just lost one of your own. 

MAS are brothers and sisters.

And the manner in which it happened, two air crafts in a matter of months. I think you don't have to put two and two together, you'd still feel that something is amiss. But the sad truth is that we will probably never know.

If this was a ploy to a bigger picture unbeknownst to us, even more vexing. Probably just a collateral damage for the greater good of mankind. Yeah, right.

With agony and tears, from a fellow aviation servant, from a brother to brothers and sisters, from a Malaysian to another Malaysian, from a fellow human being to another human being, my deepest condolences.

Trials and tribulations define characters and it is my deepest lying hope that MAS should rise from these ashes, like a phoenix rising. Come back MAS, prove these naysayers just how fucken wrong they are.

Come back. 

Thursday, July 17, 2014

But

I love to doodle.

I doodle all the time. Well lately not so much. But every now and then. A human head or two and I will usually drop the effort by the time I reach the finger part.

Raise a glass if you're an aspiring artist or have had experiences going through this. 

I know right ?

But I digress.

So like napkin pieces worth of my doodles, I appreciate my thoughts the same. I value them. No matter how random.

So I was just ironing my shirt and a thought came to me.

"You cannot call yourself great until you can, not more than 350 words, describe how great Fakhrol is"

Somewhat narcissistic. But I bet you can't can you ?

I double dare you.

Thursday, July 10, 2014

.......

I wish they would stop already with the Palestinians kids' pictures in Facebook. My heart wrenches for them. I don't wanna show the world how brutal Israel is, or to show the world who the real terrorist is. I mean don't  Muslims get that already ? Show who of Isreal's terrorism ? The US ? Do you think they give a flying fuck ? Fuck NO. And if Muslims at large are dumb enough to believe that, then maybe we deserve what's coming.

Yes it is sad. I'm typing as if there's a huge lump in my throat trying to fight the tears. But for God's sake, please stop posting these pictures of kids, babies in ashes. Oh dear God...

Ya Allah ya Tuhanku, kau hancurkanlah Israel Laknatullah. Kau sampaikanlah roket-roket Hamas ke muka pintu penzalim Yahudi Ya Allah. Lindungilah Mujahideen Mujahideen dijalan-jalan Mu Ya Allah. Kau gegarkanlah bumi dibawah kaki-kaki jahanam Yahudi Laknatullah. Sesungguhnya mereka telah menzalimi hamba-hambaMu Ya Allah.

Amin.

Thursday, July 03, 2014

The Tak Boleh Tido Post

I should have a label that says 'Tak Boleh Tido Post' because as far as I could recall, I lost count of how many of these posts I've had over the years of ranting.

Apparently, I have overestimated my ability to beat the might of a cup (a Koley, in actual sense of things. You're not sure what this is, don't you bimbo ? hihih) - so apparently, I have GROSSLY overestimated my ability to beat down Nescafe every time we lock horns in battle. 9 times out of 10 I would beat Neskape, hands down.

But not this time.

Is this the sign of age ?

It sure feels like 'old' the way I cannot sleep over a meer koley of Neskape. I mean I used to take 2 shots (big ones) and I would later fall asleep on my keyboard.

What the hell happened ?

To think that I used to laugh at Mak for being scared shitless of having Neskape around night time.

And it chose to happen at the worst of time still. Besok nak sahur, lepas tu nak pegi keje. Homaigawd! I remember drinking Neskape like plain water when I was trying to study for my finals and fell asleep as fast the addictive fluids down my throat.

Not then. But NOW.

I am going to be dreadful what with all the numbery details that I have been dirtying myself with lately, tomorrow.

Hadoi.

Sunday, June 29, 2014

Oh Liverpool...

What a joy to behold. 

First there was that period when you finally echo that Steven Gerrard's "This is our year" talismanic (boooooring) chant after two decades of cowering to believe. And then there was the very same man literally and figuratively slipping. Slipping the title away from your frail grasp at hopes.

And I thought, from the perspective of moi, as a United fan, whom a season to forget is quite an understatment - my season was quite made. It wasn't so bad after all. And at long last, I was, after a long long time, happy again.

BUT.

Liverstool, I mean Liverpool. Being the source of amusement they are, refuse to go out without a bite, I mean bang. Charlie Suarez, I mean Luis Suarez, the racist bigot who Liverpools fans so shamelessly tried to defend, bit again. Yes, again. A-G-A-I-N. Bringing his biting toll to 3 players. What sort of grown man make his disdain toward a situation known by biting ? I mean euw. Seriously ?

But that's just the player, the person Liverpool chose stand by. And I seriously think its not bad luck, its karma. For Liverpool to go out on a limb trying to force reason when there was none. When they tried to erect defensive lines when its blatantly indefensible.

Oh, but don't get me wrong, despite all these sort-of philanthropically sounding remarks, I regret not the slightest that this had to happen during the World Cup and the whole world had to witness an event so cringe-worthy. I'm no philanthropist. I don't shed tears at what happen to Liverpool fans. In fact, I'm happy that they have to swallow this WHOLE.

Hihih

Tuesday, May 06, 2014

What Title Credential ?

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA *breath* HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH *breath* HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH *breath*

Title credential ? Waklu.

Sunday, May 04, 2014

Karma ?

I'm not sure if a Muslim is supposed to belief in Karma.. BUT.

Maybe not Karma in a sense of Hinduism but what goes around comes around, I think that much, Islam does taught us.

So last week's satisfied grin in mockery of Liverstool and their Captain Oppps I Slip It Again. Wehihihihih, that felt good. But seriously, last week's mocking of Liverstool and their Captain Oppps I Slip It Again! - Oh my God, Fakhrol, focus GODAMMNIT. FOCUS!

OK, so last week's mockery of Liverstool (shit, I heard that Britney song coming, approaching fast, must .....contain........ oneself!) has finally Karma'd me. United lost (again ?!) at HOME. 

Shit.

So from the darkest pit of the blackness that is my heart, I wish to apologize to all ye Liverstool fans out there for not being sorry that your captain slipped, and the title possibly SLIPPING right from under your noses and most not sorry of all, that I slip-mocked him thereafter.

After gloating all season long, its nice to see that perhaps Karma has SLIPPED a dose of your own medicine and the title potentially SLIPPING away right from under your noses.

What a nice SLIPPERY feeling it was. And still is, mind you :)

And what's nicer, is that you so thought that you've won it. You so thought that you've won it, didn't you ?

Wehihihihihihih.

Opps I slip it again!

Note: Its a far cry from being in contention for the title yourself, in fact this is pathetic. Cheering on Ciddeh. One of the most despicable team on earth themselves. Pathetic, yes. Regrets ? Fuck NO!

To see the fugly tears from you self glorifying idiots, I'd sell my soul to the devil. You get the irony ?

Nah, too slippery! :D

Monday, April 28, 2014

"Win or lose, the blood was Red"

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I will not try to cover up the fact that I am happy as fuck. Liverpool losing and Gerrard slipping in the process. I couldn't be more content.

"Win or lose, the blood was Red" one fan kononnya menunjukkan kesemangatan assabiyah yang begitu jitu. Dey macha, I've got a little news for you. Your blood IS and will ALWAYS be red. Adoi la macha.

Oh how these guys made my life.

Kalah dah satu hal, dok melalak, crying foul like they're a fuckin victim satu hal lagi. Hiihihihih.

Thursday, April 03, 2014

An Open Letter From A MAS Pilot's Daughter

This note is long overdue and is something that I should have written a long time ago - to let my dad know of how proud I am of him.

I am proud of what he does, in spite of him not being around for almost half of my life.

I am so sorry for being ashamed to tell my friends that you are indeed a pilot. A good one at that.

Apparently, I was told that I was less than pleasant and I was being a difficult (but adorable?) kid.

Nevertheless, I grew up loving airports and flying.

My father, just like the missing Captain, has worked for Malaysia Airlines ever since he left school.

Many times we urged him to work with different airlines but he refused because he wanted to be close to his family and be around us as often as possible.

We could have enjoyed the perks that were offered - free education at international schools, all living expenses paid, a chauffeur to drive us around if he had accepted job offers from other airlines.

Being a pilot's daughter, you are bound to have just your mother flying solo, attending your first day at school, your academic prize giving ceremonies, your sports days, your birthdays and even those Raya celebration.

The worst incident that occurred while Ayah was not around was when our house was robbed by 3 masked robbers.

On top of that, my mother was then 7 months pregnant. My dad was not around and my mother had to handle everything by herself.

She refused to call my dad and worry him as he was to fly back to Kuala Lumpur the following day.

My mother understood the burden that he carries on his shoulders and the importance of having a full, undivided focus while he is flying as he is responsible for hundreds of lives, and not just his own family back home.

I stood up, and answered, "I remember that he wasn't around for half of the time".

He is far from a bad father. He is just working hard to support our family.

We have come to accept that, especially when people asked us, "Ayah mana? (where's your dad)"

I would answer them "Entah, somewhere around the world. Not sure. Have to check his roster."

All his life, his presence has been determined by a single sheet of paper which he would share with us at the beginning of each month. He would sometimes be annoyed when I ask him about his whereabouts because I should have checked his roster first before asking him that.

Before he leaves for work, each one of us would send him off without fail and watch his airport transfer pick him up and drive off.

Sometimes in the wee hours of the morning, other times in the middle of the night. We would "salam" him in advance before we go to bed.

And whenever he returns from work, everyone in the house would come to the front door, and greet him.

And I never realised how significant these rituals are until the MH370 incident occurred.

Each time he leaves for work, he will be responsible for hundreds of lives, he will be responsible in connecting families together, he will be responsible in helping businessmen seal the deal, he will be responsible in realising wanderlust dreams of travellers.

I remember once, a very old passenger in a wheelchair, waited for Ayah to meet him personally after a London-KL flight, he gave Ayah a thumbs up said, "Are you the Captain? Very smooth landing just now. Thank you!"

But deep inside, our family knew, everytime he leaves for work, there is always a possibility of getting that fateful phone call, the possibility of him never returning home.

He is as 'OCD' (meticulous as some would say) as you would want in any pilot flying your flight, ensuring everything is in place.

Even when it comes to punctuality, he isn't a minute late nor a minute early if he says he's reaching a particular time. ... 'I'm reaching there in seven minutes. Standby'.

Cabin crew sacrificed a lot just so they could help the world connect from point A to point B.

Let us give the families affected by flight MH370 our support, prayers and some privacy.

Before you pass judgement, point fingers, or even spread theories and speculations, remember that you will not only hurt the missing cabin crew's families, but you will hurt our feelings as an extended MAS family.

- Nur Nadia Abd Rahim

Monday, March 31, 2014

Place Beyond The Pines

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Balik from revision session and saw my old man lying down on the floor.

Sleeping.

Desolated.

Tears mobbed his cheek during the final sending off of his best friend. My heart cringe at the thought. A lost that never probably will be replaced.

I am both glad and embarrassed having touched shoulders with the man. Glad for having the chance to personally know him up close. Embarrassed, for I am unworthy.

He was a man that during his life, a stern voice against wrongdoings. A man that would never hesitate for a second to call you out if you should transgress the barriers, which naturally, granted him a fair share of dislikers.

A man born perhaps in the wrong era. An era where brutal honesty is mistaken with being uncivilized. He never bothered to fiddle with that crap.

Us humans tend to have short memories. Overglorification of the dead is a common occurrence when talking about somebody deceased. But trust me when I say that Mr. Harun Nayan does not need any of that.

Folks who had attended his burial will be the testament to this. They talk in glowing terms when recalling certain personal encounters with the great man.

I have cousins who barely knew him attending his final parting, wondering what the heck his day job was because for all they know, his jobs, his activities, his LIFE have always been in one way or another, associated with the work of the Masjid. The welfare of the people (he was one of the committee members of the Masjid's Welfare bureau) and Amal Ma'ruf Nahi Mungkar.

What a life to have lived. What a beauty in death to have.

I could go on and on.

But I should probably stop.

He doesn't need me or anyone for that matter to shine his deeds for they speak a great deal for themselves.

The sum of a human life I think, lies within the amount of souls we touched during our journey towards eternity. 

So if anyone should ask how did he die, I will tell him how he lived instead.

Al-Fatihah.

Sunday, March 30, 2014

The Very Best of Us

In succession of a few days, we have received the news of losses of two of our most beloved relative and a family friend.

He takes away the very best of us. Reminding us that nothing in this world is really ours. No one in this world is really anybody's anybody.

But He really DOES take away the very best from us. 

Mere words failed, I have exhausted the best of adjectives for these deceased.

Long shall memories serve the best of moments far as I can reminisce. Al Fatihah Pak Caq (deceased 27th March 2014) and Pakcik Harun (deceased 30th March 2014). 

Warm are these tears against this misty morning. 2014. What a year this has been so far.

Tuesday, February 18, 2014

Thanks

So many things I wished I could say to you.

I know I have disappointed you. I know that I have let my ego get the better of our relationship. But I hope despite these hostilities and boundaries, that I have left something positive. And I hope that I have made at least something a little better than before you have met me.

I know you made me a better person than I was before.

So many things I wish I could say to you but if I have to wrap them all up in a phrase..

Thank you.

Sunday, February 16, 2014

Hurt

There's so many things I wish I could explain to you but I just don't know how. So many words I wanna say to you but I don't know which shall suffice.

But I have never intended for you to be pained. For you are my MOST cherished. My past. My Present. My One & Only.

I know I have caused you pain. But know this, NEVER have I intended for you to get hurt.

For I love you.

And I love you so much it fuckin' hurts.


Monday, February 10, 2014

Umrah Terakhir Kami

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"Umrah terakhir bersama isteri tersayang sehari sebelum meninggal. Suasana ceria pagi tu tiada tanda2 yang saya akan di tinggalkan. Kami telah bertekat untuk membuat umrah tahun ni sebelum ke haji. Rupa2nya dia meninggal semasa umrah.

Saya yakin ini merupakan hadiah yang teristimewa untuk arwah kerana Allah telah memanggil untuk di kebumikan di tanah haram. Takdapat di bayangkan betapa terharunya perasaan ini dalam sekelip mata isteri tersayang sudah tiada. Mashallah tak dapat menahan airmata semasa sama2 dengan puluhan ribu jemaah masjidil haram menyembahyangkan arwah, saya memang terkenal dgn sikap tabah dan kental tapi rupa2nya tertewas dengan peristiwa tersebut, moga2 Allah memberi jannah kepada arwah.

Terasa terlalu sunyi perasaan ni, semangat terlalu rendah tertapi syukur anak2 ada di sisi utuk menampung kesedihan. Betapa kuasa Allah mengetasi segala2nya, diri yang sihat tiba2 dimatikan. Tiada terduga bagi hambanya bagi segala kesudahan, akhir kalam kita di mana dan bagaimana. Allah maha besar yang mempunyai kuasa menghidup dan mematikan.

Untuk arwah ini adalah khidmat terakhir saya walaupun dengan hati yang berat, berusha menguruskan pekebumian isteri tersayang, ya Allah hanya kau saja yang yahu betapa berat hati ini menanggung ujian ini, process mendapat pelepasan dari kedutaan malaysia merupakan ujian pertama kerana tiada surat sokongan yang lengkap tapi kuasa Allah mengatasi segalanya, beratus kali doa di baca meminta pertolongan Allah dan syukur semua pemasalahan di ringgankan, paling teruji ialah mendapat slot menyembahyang di masjidil haram, syukur segala rintangan yang getir dapat di atasi dengan pertolongan Allah.

Ya Allah hamba Mu bersyukur dapat bersama2 sembahyang jenazah bersama puluhan ribu kemaah.

Khidmat terakir diri ku untuk arwah dari menyusung jasat tersayang ke masjidil haram hinggalah mengangkat jenazah ke lahat, tak dapat menahan airmata dari berlinang namun aku kuatkan semanggat, terasa susah sanggat kali ini untuk mengekalkan semanggat yang hampir2 tiada, sungguh hairan betapa aku yang berjiwa keras ni jadi longlai dan terkapai2 meniti minit2 yang terlalu singkat.

Ya Allah kau tempatkan lah roh isteriku bersama para salihin dan ya Allah tenangkan hati ku dan anak2 berserta org2 yg sayangi beliau. Ya Allah cucurilah rahmat keayas arwah dan kami semua. Ya Allah kau kembalikan lah semanggat waja ku supaya aku dapat mengharungi sisa2 hidup ini. Amin"

Stumbled upon this heart shredding piece by the late Kak Nurul's husband. Its hard to contain these pearly beads from falling.

Fuck This SH

NEVER. In my 30 years of life have I felt quite like this. When I started watching United, Cantona was still plying his trade. That smug on his face. The spiked collar. The air of nonchalance and somewhat arrogant celebration of his. Those images, imprinted so strongly in my mind that the choice was easy. United is the team for me. In a time when there was no Astro, only highlights of games. Cantona's brilliance meant United is my one and only. That was during the 90's. The good old 90's when United really start to stamp their dominance in English football and long to continue.

I was born in an era of United's dominance, or more that I start following them during their successful first charges towards dominance. United that I know is practically an ark, so strong, so sturdy, so resilient so not willing to die without inflicting substantial damages first towards the opponents. 

Days like these are like an alien. These feelings are so alien to me right now.

---

There goes my Isnin. MU seri. Felt more like kalah. In all truthfulness, lebih baik la MU kalah. So that some people may finally open their eyes. So lost am I at words, sampai bila kepala aku terhantuk kat besen kat bilik air pun, aku rasa nak bertumbuk dengan besen tersebut.

United. Oh United. Never in my 30 years of 

---

I refused to edit what ever the fuck that I have typed for. Ah fuck this writing shit. Am done so fucking done. 

Thursday, February 06, 2014

Melayu

The state this country is in. A 12 year old got hit on her head by a golf ball and all we could debate is the fact that she is not a citizen, thus the right for our hospital to refuse treatment for her. 

What ? Why ? How ? 

Saddened doesn't even to begin to describe how the fuckin fuck I feel right now. What happened to us, really what the fuckin fuck happened to us goddamnit ?

A 12 YEAR OLD! Dear God. Save us all from hellfire. 

The state that my race is in right now. We label our fellow human being 'Pak Itam' for being a little darker skinned than us. Macam la kita ni putih sangat. And we treat them like second class human being. As if we are somehow superior in some ways. As if our life is worth more than him in some monetary terms.

The state that my race is in right now. 

An incident witnessed first hand by an Indian friend of mine, a Pakistani guy approached a group of Malay dudes, selling fake leather goods. All of them took a belt each, paid him twenty ringgit, half the original price and they chased the Pakistani guy away. They said to him that the item is fake anyways and he isn't even legal. My good Samaritan friend approached the Pakistani guy and bought a fourty Ringgit wallet for 50 bucks. He refused to take it but my friend insisted and hope that it can erase any sort of grudge they got, if any, towards those guys. The Pakistani guy was overwhelmed. He sat down, said a prayer and cried.

Where does this unfounded superiority complex come from, one can only guess. Tell me when was the last time any Malays have done something that all of us Malaysians, Muslims and Nons alike, can be proud of to grant us such arrogance ?

Wednesday, February 05, 2014

That I Have Arrived


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Its this sort of thing, finding something at the least expected time, at a lesser expected place. My heart was practically tugged seeing that which contains what which contains.

A step is just a step but this is to be the step in which all bridges burned, all second guesses turned. 

An obituary for second thoughts, set stationary are the epitaphs, the tombstone its final resting place.

I have looked forward to this day, yet I cannot say that I have arrived.

Tuesday, February 04, 2014

Sombre

Today as I was sitting at my workstation, taking off my jacket. The speaker blared an announcement,. Its our HR department.

"Dukacita dimaklumkan bahawa Puan Nurul Asyikin Shuib telah pun kembali ke rahmatullah semalam.."

My chest painful. 

My stomach feel like somebody just tangled all its contents into one big knot. 

It felt unreal.

The smiling Kak Nurul, those droopy eyes with the depth unfathomable as if they know what turbulence is running havoc in your mind right. I won't see that again. I was so distracted, until the voice of the girl manning the counter "Ye Encik, nak apa ?" shake me off my distraction. I had neither the cash nor any idea what did I want for breakfast, hence I left.

Sunday, February 02, 2014

Jackasses

I woke up this morning to find my pillows wetted. I think I was crying a little bit last night. This is so painful. How could this have happened ? After all these times ? My eyes pudgy, blood shot, staying through the course of the night, reminiscing the good times. 

My friends, they care and are worried for me. They asked me how was I holding up and they let it be known that they are there if I should ever feel like talking things through with some going a stretch further than the others. And they didn't exactly make it subtle either. Constantly lingering, ever compassionately reminding me that BEING A UNITED FAN SUCKS NOW.

A club switching form ? Goddamn them.