2017: New Horizons....

Another day closer to the end of another year.

It's just another day in the Gregorian calendar. Muslims already had our new year a couple of months ago, and, was treated by many as another public holiday.

The Gregorian Calendar is named after Pope Gregory the XIII who refined the original calendar started by the Romans. Julius Caesar tweaked it a little and changed the name of the 7th month from Quintilis to Julius... or as we know it today, July. (Subsequently, Augustus Caesar also changed the 8th month to August from Sextilis... which is a good thing).

Anyway, 2016 was an eventful year I supposed, with all the things happening around the world, death and mayhem, suppression and oppression, corruption and pollution. Children killed, women raped, immigrants drown fleeing unrest in their home country.

Sometimes I can't believe that we are already in the 21st century, almost 2 decades deep. Yet, racism is still as much a problem as it was in the last century.

For me, 2016 has been a year of change. A shift in paradigm. My wife quit her job in October 2015 and, to occupy her time after the novelty of not having to go to work wears off, she start selling stuff she bought from Bandung. Textile, blouses, dresses, hijab and telekung... even hoodies and ointments and cosmetics.

We were never business people. I have made that conclusion when, in 2003, I tried and failed as a businessman. Robert T. Kiyosaki wrote in his book that to do business you need a mentor. I mean that's what his book Rich Dad Poor Dad was about. His mentor was his Rich Dad.... but I guess I miss that part... emblazoned on the front page.

Wiser and older (in that order), and with a bit more resources (a.k.a Money) to spent to go to seminars and courses, we are now weighing anchor and casting off on our new ship, into areas we never thought we'd ever venture into. We have new circle of friends... or at least my wife has. Friends who's been there done that and friends are doing it as we are.... although, most of them are much younger than us....

So here goes everything. Will we make it? I pray to God we will.... there's no turning back now....

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7 Days to Live

This coming Friday, on December 21, 2012, the planet Nibiru, last seen only by the ancient Sumerians a few thousand years ago, will come around and pass so near our earth that it will shift the poles and cause a cataclysm, wiping all living things on our planet. According to Nancy Lieder, this phenomenon was first predicted to happen in 2003, but when nothing happened then, she postponed it to 2012. Ms Lieder claimed that she was abducted by aliens when she was young and later released so that she can warn all of us of the impending end of the world. Something is going to happen on December 21, some people insists, because that is the last day on the Mayan Calendar. The Mayan Calendar it seems is as accurate as the atomic clock, marking exactly the celestial events for the last 5,000 years. Some say that a meteor will fall to earth and we will then go the way of the dinosaurs. Or.... a huge solar flare occurs, engulfing and annihilating all planets in its path, earth...

Another phase in life.... hers and mine...

I have been in a melancholy mood. I have been unmotivated, wishing that I don't have to go to work. Although, I try to be the type of parent that is practical and always encouraged my children to be independent and self-sufficient, I guess I've always wanted to be there for them. Now, there is this realization that my eldest daughter, doesn't need me anymore. Sending her to college last Sunday, it suddenly occurred to me that she will, from now on, be spending more time away from us. This is what has put me in a pensive mood. And, in a couple of years, my eldest son will leave us and then my other daughter, then finally, my youngest son. I look back at the last 17 years of raising her, I wish I had been a better parent. I wish I was had shown more patience and compassion rather than anger and edginess. I wish I had shown more composure than agitation. Maybe, that is why I find it hard to let go. I have this feeling that I haven't done enough, that I must hang on ...

Pak Mat Beca

I started school in 1971. I went to Sekolah Ismail (Dua), as far as I am concerned the only primary school in the whole universe and every kid must go there or the government will put their parents away forever. The "Dua" or Two (2), does not mean there were two Sekolah Ismails. There was only one, except that there were two sessions, morning and afternoon. When I started in standard one, I was in the morning session. Apparently, somehow, the two Ismails alternate, and I really can't recall ever having to go to school in the afternoon. Every morning, my cousin, the late Hashimah Hashim (Allah bless her soul), and I would wait for Pak Mat to pick us up in his beca, his trishaw. And, until I changed school in 1976 (that's another story to tell), Pak Mat and his beca would take me to school every school day. I know of no other way to go to school and I did not really appreciate the distance that Pak Mat had to cycle to pick us up and send us to our respective s...

Life's Remains....

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