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Wednesday, 21 August 2013

The Equestrian

We spent roughly eight hours a day, five days a week, four weeks a month, twelve months a year for three years, three whole years of high school, breathing in the same room, working in gazillions of projects together. But somehow I only started to know him, just today.

He is bright. He has always been bright. His brain works at the speed of  light. He knows his maths and physics, and does his homework. He reads the papers and watches the news. He knows the world. He knows politics, economics, history, plus all their trivial facts. He knows bureaucracy. He's a teenager with knowledge, skills and experience like your father's. He drives like a racer. His passion is cars and dreams to devour them for a living, yet he ends up in medical school: Oh, we're gonna be spending another 4.5 years under the same roof.

It's been a year since we study together in the small 30-pupil sized classroom (compared to the current classroom which is 5 to 10 times larger). Nowadays we hardly talk, we barely meet. But just some time ago, he asked me to work with him. For a personal reason, I agreed to join his project, but I anticipated the horrors of working with him.

He used to be the most stubborn person who never failed to start an altercation with me. I always see him as an aggressive young man wearing a pair of twinkly round puppy eyes. He's thoughtful yet doubtful. Confident yet never willing to take the lead. Hardly makes decisions but argues over the ones I make. Enthusiastic but hardly ever committed.  I value him so much as a student, as a colleague, I trust him, I always put my hopes on his broad shoulders, but what's very likely to occur is he leaves them behind. His mind was too hard for me to read. Too hard to leave settled. Whatever I say, whatever I do is like setting a fire in an Australian bush in the midst of December. His persona leaves me questioning, sometimes crying over his painstaking choices of words, or his irritating intonation. Yes, of course The Equestrian has made me drop my tears. Several times.

I don't hate him. He's a good friend. Sometimes. Well yes he's irritating, he hurts me to the center of my heart. It's not an issue though. I just know that we don't go well together. Like an enzyme with the wrong substrate. It doesn't mean we're on war. We're at peace. I just know that it'd be better to stay away from him to avoid the quarrel.

That was a long time ago though. 
The Equestrian I perceive now, is somewhat different. He's not as aggressive as before.
His puppy eyes that I thought was fake, are actually true. We engaged in a small talk where he subtly but honestly stated his introversion. I was electrified. I thought he mislabeled himself. But then I realized that these years, I never really knew him to the core.

Friday, 16 August 2013

A Letter to Heaven

The world ages, our life ages, we age. 
Unpredictable possibilities happen, unthinkable incidents occur, unbelievable coincidences turn up like magic. Though as a matter of fact, it all has been planned: careful, detailed, and comprehensive, by The One and Only. 

These may raise us up to the zenith of sweet glory, or throw us down to the nadir of bitter sorrow. Leave us in a seemingly unstoppable laughter, or never ending days of mourning. When it happens, it just happens. When we set our mind to a quest for reasons, we may never find out why. 


Sometimes we wish to rewind our clock, flip back the pages of the calendar sitting on our desk, wishing we could travel back in time, to do the good deeds we never did, to erase the mistakes we ever made. We keep on wishing, even though we're highly alert that the past is unalterable. Even though we realize that the wheel of life only spins forward, towards the future.

Yet, the future is hidden behind a veil, somewhat like a one-way mirror, like that of an interrogation room we see in an American cop movie, nobody inside sees through. We seem like we know what we're facing, truth is, we never know what's behind.

The past is unalterable, the future is unpredictable. We only live in the present, to make the very best use of it, with lessons learned from the past, and enthusiasm to prepare for the future.

My dearest friend, we all know, you will never read this, and we will never meet again, yet I want to thank you so much for all the lessons you've once shared, and deliver my greatest apology, for never stopping by your side, not even to say hello and put a smile on your face. For now, the only word left is Goodbye.

Thursday, 8 August 2013

Selamat Hari Raya Idul Fitri 1434 Hijriyah
Mohon Maaf Lahir dan Batin
 :)

Wednesday, 7 August 2013



What does it feel like to be judged solely on your physical appearance?
#MLKJr


Thursday, 25 July 2013

I grabbed me some books!

This holiday, I actually planned to start reading English classics again after a complete four-year hiatus! I started reading these when I was in middle school, borrowing from the school's library. Every week I'd borrow a book and read it with great fascination and curiosity. I find myself flipping over the pages at the speed of light, skipping my study sessions, staying up late just to reveal the plot and start over with a new title. 

I was fond of learning English by that time, and these novels not only helped me improve my vocabulary collections, it also gave me an insight towards the past :3 Not that they were all historical fiction - I do love this genre- but  the fact that we're living in the 21st century makes everything that happens in the plot considered history! What's more amusing than knowing how people live in the past centuries? ^____^ uh. Probably a large cone of chocolate ice cream, thank you.

So, since these are classics, and the authors have passed away a long time ago, the copyrights have expired and we could easily download these novels from a galore of sites in the world wide web. My first download was Arthur Conan Doyle's complete collection of Sherlock Holmes and the Jules Verne's adventurous science fictions. But seriously, reading a digital version was inconvenient to the maximum. So I came to the thought of actually buying these at a bookstore (Seems like this girl has got pots of ingots :p). Oh I have to tell you that I actually found a friend who pretty much has a similar passion towards books and reading :D She recommended an international bookstore, which I have once heard of but have never visited. I was extremely excited knowing that they sell imported books, and they're all not translated into Bahasa. U n f o r t u n a t e l y. . . It turns out that spending your money there would lead to bankruptcy- imported books remember. Well that's one bitter news. I don't recommend buying -real live- classics. But Google's always around to help :) here are some of my favorite sources:


Happy aren't we :) ? 

Happy!  But now I'm happier since I gladly found a place where I can get these novels, without having to spend any money: The Library of Campus B! I have almost forgotten the concept of Libraries!! That's because Campus A's Lib wouldn't everrr have a collection of literature! (What for! They say med students only read anatomy atlases and medical textbooks. But they're the lame ones. Oops :p) It started out after a friend of mine asked me to make a description of Airlangga University for Medspin, and then I remembered this nearly forgotten information: We have a Faculty of Humanities, which has a department of English Literature. And what do English Literature students read? :D ahahahayy you know the answer!!!

So that particular day (July 3rd, based on this borrowing note from the lib)I rushed (by feet) to the B Lib - it was a cloudy afternoon, and it had just stopped raining, the roads and sidewalks (well there weren't literally any) were all wet, puddled and muddy. :( It was a really tough journey. Not a really long one. But it was so wet. When I arrived at the entrance gate of Campus B there was this really big puddle that I can't walk through, I almost gave up and I felt like turning back and going home. But I walked on, and managed to go to the other entrance. There were so many sidewalk shops and I actually bumped on a rope that supports their canvas shelters. On the head. It hurts so much >.< And people were looking at me and I felt really awkward. But then again I was so close. And I walked on.

And I reached the building. It was a big, three storey building :) painted purple (or was it gray), and so many hopes lay in it. I felt really good, but also anxious, worried that there might not be any hope for me to find the book I was longing to read. But I was more of excited and happy yayay :) it's a new place to explore anyway. There's always something interesting on an exploration. I went in and wandered around, going in and out of rooms, skimming the books, studying the patterns, asking around, trying to act (and sound) like a good student lol. Then there. I found the label literature: 009 Dewey Decimal system -whatever they call it. 


And There
On the third floor
On the southernmost row
A bookshelf labelled 009
Filled with E N G L I S H  C L A S S I C S 
(And other literature books)
And there were more and more shelves forming a corridor!
A corridor of books! What say you!!

I almost shouted. I almost jumped, I almost cried. I was so happy :D
They had everything!

Dickens, Bronte, Austen, R.L Stevenson. Mark Twain. Daniel Defoe. Hemingway. Rudyard Kipling. Robert Ludlum! Stephen King!! And a lot of other authors, some I hardly ever heard of, some very familiar names but never had the chance to read. Like Virginia Woolf, Anthony Trollope, Goethe, Tolstoy, George Orwell. It was just amazing.

I had to borrow something. I have a long holiday ahead, and I have to finish reading these before I graduate and probably not have a chance to borrow from here. I could only pick two books and fr a period of two weeks.That was a hard choice to make. I saw a galore of books, I wanted to read all of them! So I walked to and fro, up and down the corridors, picking books, skimming through, returning them, wow-ing all the time, wishing that I could just grab them all and bring 'em home.

Despite the excitement, I was actually unsure of what genre I wanted to read. The titles were so amazing, but then again, titles don't tell much about the story don't they. 
And I was questioning myself, what do I want to read?

After an hour of some tough consideration (seriously an hour), I picked up 1984 by George Orwell and The Old Man and the Sea by Ernest Hemingway.
Reasons? a couple of days before, I stumbled upon an article in the web about the term Big Brother and how it emerged, and they talked about 1984 all the way, and George Orwell and his influence. I was quite amazed when I saw this title in one of the shelves. So I think I have to find out what the fuss was all about. And The Old Man and The Sea? It was just too popular that I wanted to know what was so great about the book. :)

And I have finished reading them, and they're already safe and sound back in those wooden shelves. I alredy switched them with another couple :) Kim (Rudyard Kipling) and Catch-22 (Joseph Heller)!! This time I read reviews on Goodreads so I don't waste too much time wandering around!

Reviews by me will be written as soon as . . . I have the time :/

Wednesday, 24 July 2013

The Renovation

This is an official day off! and I've been working quite a lot since dawn, cleaning up the house. We're having several renovations, re-paintings, fixing some leaking taps and broken faucets. It's been going on for half a month and everyone in the house is really wired, the house has been such a mess, and I haven't been quite helping since I'm rather busy lately  (sorry mom) But I officially declare that I won't be leaving the house for the rest of Ramadan for personal reasons.
it really is home time :) [except for Monday evening :p]
I've been hanging around in the house wearing this surgical mask as if I'm in the anatomy practicum room. *missed it soo much lol* But hey I need this protection from dust!! I am frustratingly allergic to dust!

Okay so what has happened around?
Frustration
Renovation = mess = dust, cement, sand etc. As I said I'm allergic to dust, super, hyper allergic towards dust! a single exposure of even a single part per million of this particle could make me blow seven greatest sneezes in the world. What makes it worse is the allies of sneezes that comes after: Stuffed, runny nose and watery eyes. Horribly devastating!! >.<
" After a dreadful beginning, and a weary process, there's always hope for a happy ending. "

My room turned purple
So what's with the choosing of purple?
it was really late one night in a hardware store, mom wants to buy some paint for the outer wall of our house, and she just offered us to paint our rooms too. I didn't want to take the offer since.. well.. what I want is just to finish the renovation asap, and I'm actually okay with my white room. But mom insisted to paint it, so I guess I just have to make the choice. Since I don't actually tempt to have my room painted, it took me hours to decide. I said red, but mom says it's too angry, i asked for blue, she says the kitchen's already blue, I picked brown, she says its an outdoor color >.< Okay I give up. It's all up to you, I don't have the least imagination of what color suits me, it's just a room, it's just a color. I then I left the paint counter feeling all the way confused, and took a walk around the store.
After a while of wandering around the store, I spotted a picture of a house painted purple and brown. I thought it looked good, a purple wall might suit the wooden furniture in my room. So I came back and picked a light purply color. My mom liked it, oh..I was unsure actually with purple, but huh, there's nothing else I can do. I cant take back my words. And at least it's something she said yes to. 

The word purple actually makes me feel silly. Reasons?
First. you know there are a great number of girls out there who just WORSHIPS this color. oh and I do think they are some of the silliest creatures on earth, no offense! Well I don't have the tiniest fascination towards a particular color, I think colors are just colors, they don't symbolize anything and i believe we should make our life colorful by not worshiping a single color. Such as:
" I'm a big fan of Manchester United and I'm all red, I wont even go for a swim in the pool cause the water looks blue under the sky and blue is the color I hate because Chelsea wears blue, so I'd probably swim if you drop some tomato ketchup into the pool until it looks red. "
I don't have a favorite color, even if i'm a fan of Chelsea, and even if I wear blue a lot, I put an Iron man theme on my Google chrome and it looks fiery and red and I like it. I don't want to be a color worshiper, especially purple. Really, these purple girls turn insane when they see the color and I just want to keep my sanity safe and sound. Now this is a true true story:
I had a chemistry teacher in high school, who is a purple lover girl ehm I mean woman, she's 50 something years old, and she.. okay, even when she's teaching she still responds to her senses of purple like when she saw my purple cell phone case.
" So students, the rate of a chemical reaction is affected by several fac... hey what a cute phone case, nice purple! "
(No it wasn't a sarcastic remark of seeing a student's cellphone in class. I wasn't using my phone in the class. It just sat on the desk doing nothing. I've always been a good girl :3 she knows)
Now what say you?
Second.
There is a myth, that purple is the color of widows. Blistering Barnacles!!! Now this is a contradiction towards the cutie purply girls I mentioned above. But this myth is really famous. Whenever somebody hears the word purple, their brain always associates it with the word widow. Being a widow is somehow seen as a negative thing around here idk .-.
But actually, the western society uhmm purple is known as a royal color *wow*, it is rare in nature, and in earlier times, hard to be extracted from nature.Thus only certain aristocrats could use this color for their attire. Well that relieves. By the way, fate is in The Almighty's hand, widow or not.

I never believed the power of colors, that color affects mood and emotion and such things, but I think I kinda realize it's true (well of course scientists out there have made researches. But this time I admit that I proved it myself). Purple is actually tranquilizing, they say, it is a balance of red and blue which are absolute contradictions. And honestly I do feel a lot calmer in this newly painted room. They say it lightens up our imagination too! I'm writing in room now, painted with a combination of light purple and white (plus checkered white-purple ceilings!! idk whose idea this was!!), and truly, ideas and words easily flow. This new room definitely brightens my mind up :) I like seeing this color :)

Have I turned into a person with a tone of light purple personality? With a combination of tranquility, balance and imagination?
I have never been someone like that, but I somehow wish to be.
We'll see.
Oh and one more thing: always listen to mom.

Wednesday, 17 July 2013

Meld Magazine

Meld Magazine: Melbourne's International Students News Website.
I truly forgot how I stumbled upon this website... wait, now I remember: Metcards! Again, I was browsing facts about Metcards, and Google led me to a post by Marcella Purnama on Meld Magazine, once again about the conversion of metcards to myki.

So, Meld Magazine is an online magazine run by students in Melbourne. How fascinating! You know I've once been an international student  :P (oops, my dad was, I think I didn't count lol) 
The writers, editors, photographers, web designers, videographers and every other staff are international as well as local students of Melbourne. Starting out in 2008, this magazine aimed to give international students a true insight on how life in Melbourne is really like.This way, international student candidates won't only obtain information from university promotions.

I think the articles in Meld Mag are extremely interesting, well-written, and actually a lot of fun, and it seems really helpful and informative. They cover up almost everything about Melbourne: lifestyle, cuisine, news, issues, reviews on films, music and festivals, education, youth programs, or anything else related to international students, regulations, fees and stuff. They tell you everything you need to know, every information, every hot issue, and also every fun facts about Melbourne. All in a youthful writing style, not too formal, yet mature indeed. Reading Meld Mag is so much fun, I learned a lot of new vocabularies and recognize different writing styles :)  And of course, my all time longing of seeing Melbourne is a little bit relieved.

To be honest, the fact that these students could produce excellent pieces of writings -which is in fact not in their own mother language- and manage it in an online magazine pretty much amuses me! I feel really inspired to learn from them and become a writer myself. They're actually opening up chances to join their team. I really wish I could join Meld one day [Of course I have to find a way to study in Melbourne first (y)]. But lets start with improving my English proficiency and writing skills. Oh and I know a good way to begin: visit Meld Mag and read!