Life's Remains....

I think I have read all the how to get rich books. I know how the rich thinks, I know what it takes to be a rich dad, I know about the millionaire mind set. They all tell the same thing. You need to have a passion and work on it. In fact, all the advice from the wealthy people who became wealthy from telling other people how to get rich is the same. Work on your passion, satisfaction is your real goal, the money is a bonus. There's an article I read about one very rich man who said that he does not know how much money he made. Because, he didn't really care for it. But, it's the thrill of making money that drove him. In fact, it's an addiction that he now goes to therapy to learn how to relax.... and enjoy the money he's accumulated. The problem with me is that, now that I'm broke, I start to read all the emails I get from these business 'gurus'. Other times, when I feel that I am well off, I have money in my wallet, I sometimes just click t

And life goes on.... Yesterday, Allah took my sister Kak Esah (Hjh. Aishah binti Jaafar).  At first, I was inclined to write something about her.... then, I suddenly realized, that I am more concerned about us, who need to continue living and get use to losing the ones dearest to us. I start to imagine how Abang Haris feels. Perhaps, partly relieved that Kak Esah's battle with cancer is finally over...and partly, anguish and hurt, when he lays down in bed to see the empty space next to him. Kak Sarah, my eldest sister lost her husband, Abang Raya, about a decade ago, and how she copes with life after he's gone, the loneliness, the emptiness..... takes amazing inner strength and courage. It's unfortunate, for us who are still on this earth, that we have to continue to struggle in a world of sin. A world full of temptations that comes to us in the most subtle of ways and on every side. No... I am not suicidal. Just in a melancholy mood. Losing a

In the eleventh day of the eleventh month in the eleventh year of the second millennium.... nothing happened. And I just decided I wanted to write something in my blog so that in the archive, there will be a post on 11.11.11. But, I would like to give a shout to the 20 in front of the 11. Today nobody gives a damn about you. Until the Sunday two weeks from now when it will the 20th of November. Only then you will be recognized. When it will be 20.11.2011.

Of late I have been feeling tired. Walking up the stairs, up the incline towards my MIS class, I wished I was at home planning the a day out with my kids. Hanging out at the mall, or go see a movie. Haven't done that for quite sometime. And, soon, they won't want to do that anymore. Soon, and the signs are already showing, it's no longer cool to hang out with your family members. Going up to the 5th floor in the ancient lift I told my good friend Sukman that I'm running out of steam. No stamina. He just smiled. The prospect of another semester to go, and to come up with a research paper within the next 9 months or so, brings out a sigh out of me. I'm too old for this. But, I have committed myself, and I will see this through. But, it's not just the MBA program. It's everything else, too. It's my work, too. Maybe I'm just going through the low point of my life cycle. It's that point in your life when you started to reflect on your life a

Heart's Desire by Safia El-Shams There's a guy who spends his days walking up and down the road that in front of my office building. Some days, in the mornings especially, he would greet me and asks me for some money. Some days, I oblige, other days, I just shake my open palms at him. I find him annoying because when I open my wallet to give him RM2 he would up his ante and ask for RM5. Sometimes, he even goes up to RM10. But, I never give him more than RM5. After which, he would get a stick of smoke from the mamak shop, then sit at a table with some unfortunate stranger. Unfortunate because, he hardly bathes. My office mates said that he wasn't always like that. He used to help his mother at her food stall somewhere in the area. He started wandering up and down the this street after his mother died. He has no brothers or sisters, his father ran out on them a long time ago.... so now he has no one... nobody to tell him what to do. There are days when he would totall

Once there was a man who all his life have nothing but good intentions. But, everybody in his village said that he was the devil. He robbed and maimed. He killed and destroyed. When he was caught and brought to justice, his defense was that he was only trying to feed his family. When he was growing up, he was not good at school. The teachers all say he was hopeless, his father thought he was an embarrassment, his siblings thought he was a burden, society keep reminding him that the world would be a better place if he wasn't in it. Only his mother saw him differently. Only his mother loved him because he was her son.... and for no other reason. And later, he met the woman of his dreams and married her and had beautiful children and he vowed that they will never ever go through life as he did. He swore on his life, that he will do anything to ensure his children go the best schools, eat the best foods, wear the best clothes, grow up to have the best jobs, to be whatever they as

Faculty Building 1 Rafflesia Corridor Faculty Building 2

I have been on compassionate leave since Wednesday (Kak Long was hospitalised with acute gastric, but she getting better now). Although, the first and second day I was busy ferrying people and stuff to and from the hospital, but the third day (since Kak Long was discharged late Thursday afternoon) I woke up in the morning and wish I was going to work. But, my wife said since I'm entitled to the three day compassionate leave, why not take it all. Every weekday, I wake up and count the days to the weekend. And Sunday evenings, I dread to think that I have to go to work in the morning. But, today, I get a glimpse of what happens the very next day after my retirement. I woke up in the morning and find that I have no goal for the day. On weekdays, the goal is to get through the day. The work that I do, monitoring my staff's work, signing checks, making decisions... I take for granted. And I dread doing it, and worst still when I realize that I have to do it all over again tomo

  A view from my office window Another perspective... Using my old Nokia 5800, I took this in after my dawn prayers....

I am at that stage of my life where I wish I can just retire and yet still draw my current income (maybe a bit more). Come to think of it, I have been in this stage for the last decade. It is disheartening that I am part of the majority in the bell curve . But, like everybody in that sector, I really have no idea of what I want to do. I am where I am because I was walking on that road of life with my eyes fixed only as far as the ground at my feet and went along with the traffic flow. My life has been a series of random decisions made, not by me, but by chance. Not that I am complaining. I think I've had a great life. And, that made me a little bit more grateful to God. As a human being, there are times when I think that I could/would/should have done better for myself. Yet, at the same time I acknowledge that there are so many thinks that could have gone wrong. I guess that's why I like the poem by Robert Frost "The Road not Taken". Frost wished he could take

Not total mindless violent affairs..... but kind of cool.... These are what I'd like to watch but haven't... Henry's Crime (no image available)  

When we were young, the world seemed so simple. Because our parents will try to explain the world to us in the in the simplest way. A line is drawn and all that is behind this line are good, and everything else is bad. When I was growing up, the Red Indians are bad, the Germans are bad and the Japanese are bad. The Chinese are bad, too, because they eat pork. Indians are bad because they are dark skinned. Generally, all Non-Muslims are bad. In my simple mind then, Malays are good, and all Malays are Muslims. The Arabs are our role models because our Prophet Muhammad was an Arab. Democracy is good, and all our leaders, our Prime Ministers, our Ministers are all good. Back then, only Pak Imams (old people) wear the "serban", and only Pak Haji (old people) where skull caps (hence the name, songkok haji), and the words of these (old) people are gospel. Policemen keep us safe, soldiers are our heroes. There was little doubt in my mind, that these were the indisputable tru

Eric, the 22 year old driver who drove us up from KK to Kampong Luanti, in Ranau, suggested that Kinabalu really originates from the Kadazandusun word "Aki Nabalu" which means "Revered Resting Place". And, that the story of the chinese (Kina) widow (Balu) were made up just so people do not associate the capital of Sabah to death. Interesting, and I think that appealed to me more than the tale of the abandoned wife of a Chinese Prince, who climbed up to peak to wait (and eventually died there) for her husband who went back to China and never returned. Anyway, this was the third day of our vacation to The Land Below the Wind. We arrived on a Wednesday and was greeted by Halim. our chauffeur for the day. He brought us around KK but, since my wife and I are quite familiar with the town, we only went to the floating mosque..... because it wasn't there when I was posted here for three months in 1994, and the Sabah Foundation Building or Menara Tun Mustapha......