Tuesday, February 3, 2009

Mou Ichido Kudasai

Some of you may know I'm currently trying to learn Japanese. I know I've always wanted to learn a foreign language but I'm not sure why I would begin with such a tough one. Maybe because this time I actually have some help from a native speaker. I could have learned Dutch from Pieter but even he didn't want to teach me because he knew it would be very difficult. So, thank you Christopher Francis Ishizuka for being so patient and understanding ^_^ Arigato gozaimasu!

What I find funny about learning a foreign language while studying TESL is that I do catch myself applying the theories we talk about in class. I give myself drills, I immerse myself in the language through songs and anime, I play around with the words - it's hilarious. I kind of feel like I'm my own case study. Anyway, wish me luck! Or as they say, gambatte!

To any native speakers of Japanese reading this: Sumimasen, nihongo wa sukoshi dake dekimasu!

Jingle Jingle Ca-ching

Anyone who grew up forced to watch RTM might remember that little tune they play between shows: R-T-M... Te-man se-tia an-da... Notice how they've been playing it for years? Now which lucky basket do you suppose is earning ridiculous royalty for a song with only four words in it?

See, that's what I call easy money.

Baby Genius

The other day my mom told me about this one time she was scolding Sara and she thought it might be useful to call Sara's grandfather. So there she was yelling, "Papi! Papi!" and Sara just glared at her. Suddenly, this little one went "Papa! Papa!". My mom said Sara's probably figured out two can play at that game and she calls her dad for back-up. She's also figured out the possibility of getting out of trouble by acting cute. I scolded her for throwing the empty powdered-milk can down the stairs and she just smiled then started dancing in front of me...


I never took her seriously when my mom said Sara tidur lasak. Then there was that night I was in the room when Lin was trying to put her to bed. She insisted on using my stomach for a pillow. Then when my mom joined us she slept next to my mom. And two minutes later decided to be close to me again - this time with her back against my knee and her head aiming for my feet. Then she went back to my mom's shoulder. Finally, she settled for a compromise between the two of us - she slept with her head on the back of my knees (I had turned onto my stomach by then) and her feet on my mother's hip. God bless her...

Thursday, January 29, 2009

20,000 Plane Crashes

Here's another snippet from one of my favourite short stories. Lemme know if you're interested...

The first time I heard those words I didn’t want to believe them. But I knew he was right. He always was. The argument was logical enough.

“We need to be brave enough to take risks in life or we miss out. It’s like flying.”

“Flying? Like angel wings or a plane?”

“People who are scared to fly don’t realise that flying is safer than driving.”

“Oh? How so?”

“Think about it: You read about car accidents more often than you read about plane crashes, don’t you? Even if one plane crash would result in more deaths than one...”

“Fiq?”

“Yes?” He stopped walking.

“Why are we talking about something so morbid?”

“I don’t know.”

That’s just the way it was with us. It was always “I don’t know”. Looking back, I’d say it was simply because that was the truth, plain and simple. We didn’t know. All we knew was that being with each other felt like being at home. We were that comfortable, that secure, that stupid. We didn’t understand half of what was really happening in our lives.

Ideas Ideas

Wani gave me an excellent idea for a short story recently and it has since been written (with sincere apologies to Mat - and in case you're wondering it was Boy who supplied me with the names for creative use) in one afternoon. Here's a sneak peek - do e-mail me if you're interested and I'll give you the rest of it. Enjoy...

Matt has to die

It was no question that Matt had to die.

The two girls had decided upon this grave solution after much careful deliberation. For a few years now, Madihah and Kamilah had quietly tolerated the influence, nay, the immortal power that Matt held over their respective boyfriends, Lothfi and Kamarul. It was unclear as to exactly why the boys favoured Matt’s decisions and chose to follow him the way cart-pulling donkeys followed carrots but the fact of the matter was they did – often leaving the two girls high and dry. And they had had enough.

“Can you believe Kamarul ditched me again?”

“For Matt? Where did they go this time?”

“They went for cendol pulut again, of course! Have you seen the boys eating anything else lately? As if they need more sugar in them, chubby as they are!”

At the moment, Madihah was ironing her baju kurung for the next day, furiously pounding the appliance on the wooden table with each punch of her words.

“Those boys! (thump) They need to be taught a lesson! (thump) I think we should just refuse (thump) to have dinner with them tonight! And to think (thump) that I was actually going to be-lan-ja! (thump thump thump)

Sabar, Madihah. We can’t let them get the better of us just like that.” Kamilah was sitting on her bed, calmly folding her laundry. “But we should do something about it, I agree. They can’t keep taking us for granted. Ingat kita ni apa?”

“Exactly!” Madihah sat the iron hard on its bottom and flipped off the switch. “At this rate, they might as well just marry Matt instead of us! Let’s see how that works!”

Kamilah smiled and said nothing.

Madihah sighed and began hanging up her baju kurung. “The problem is, Matt has this way of convincing people to do just as he says. Think about it: the shops that he recommends are not that great, the food is not that good, the games... He just... He’s a sweet talker, that’s what he is. A born salesman, and there’s nothing we can do about it.”

Kamilah paused in the midst of folding a sarong and looked up. “Or maybe...”

“What?” Madihah busied herself pulling out the plug and coiling the wire of the iron.

“There is something we could try.”

“Such as?”

Kamilah looked her dead in the eye. “We could kill Matt. Problem solved.”

Madihah stole a glance at her. For a moment, her face searched that of her friend’s for an indication of something – but she did not know what. Rationality? Sanity? But then, something flicked in her own eyes and her face changed into a similar expression.

“You are joking,” she exhaled.

“Of course I am.” Kamilah went back to folding her clothes.

“We could never do such a thing like that.” Madihah continued, watching her.

“Of course not.” Kamilah finished the last of her chore and got up to carry a neatly folded pile towards her open closet. She put away the clean clothes and shut the door.

*You have my address?

Half Alive - Secondhand Serenade


This song has been stuck in my head ever since I heard it in AI's car. Even Painted the lyrics onto my wallpaper (Sorry, Irie Naoki). It could be just my inner-emo talking but I think it's so beautiful and it pretty much describes the situation that we've all been in at some point or other.

Friday, January 16, 2009

A Duet In Light And Darkness


White:
There are four lights on my ceiling
You flip one switch and all four come on
The bedroom, my operating theatre
Where I lay me down to be fixed
I need to be poked and poked and swirled and fixed
I need to be cut up and sewn back together

I have lighted too many fires for myself
and now it's all too bright

Though you know
Pride will not let me share my burdens with you
My lights are mine
and mine alone

Black:
I am engulfed in darkness
The darkness that I like
Like everything else in my life
except you and your lighted room
being cut up and sewn back together
and my family and God
Life is like darkness to which we light fires
and I think I have lost all of mine

Then maybe you should give me some of yours
and then maybe we could be blind together

Because you forget
You're not alone

A Duet In Light And Darkness (2009)
Written by Ahmad Faiz Abdul Aziz and Evanna Mohamad Ramly