September, 2007

I am reading Saturday’s newspaper today – a sign that things have gone back to routine, perhaps? It’s weird reading previews of games you already know the result to. A stack of Guardians from last Tuesday through to Friday lie haphazardly on the coffee table. 30p a day for cat-litter lining, if I only had a cat. Beside me is a steaming cup of black coffee – slightly sweetened with honey; my first since arriving back in Britain, and my first this Ramadhan. In fact, save for the odd Nescafe Ice at Fariz and on Perhentian and Langkawi, it’s been a while since I’ve had a caffeine fix. Surprise surprise, I can actually function. But I sure as hell have been getting much more sleep to make up for it.

I am trying to get back into the current affairs groove, both local and world. Sporadically I have read of the Burmese violence, and of the Northern Rock financial crisis in Britain, but not in much depth. I often use weekends to tidy my ‘bachelor pad’; but I made this weekend an exception, despite having a guest over. “I am still living out of my suitcase,” I told her, which is true. I will only ‘unpack’ once all the clothes in the suitcase have been used, laundered and folded. That may take a while. Instead I spent Saturday in London, watching Atonement because the pre-booked tickets for the First Terracotta Army exhibition at the British Museum were sold out. Apparently, for the bright and early, at 0915 hours every morning 500 tickets are available for sale. I am up for such rushing around; but not during Ramadhan. I lack spright and spring when I am not fed.

I think this Ramadhan is giving me a new start of sorts. I am adamant that I will use it, and use it wisely. I apologise if your toes are stepped on as I work on finding myself. I think I lost quite a bit of me last year, but I am heartened at the words of a wiser one at an earlier point in my life: “Sometimes you need to be lost first, before you can find yourself.” I am grateful that at the end of the path which I took which proved to be the wrong fork in the road, I was steered back to the main road. It would have been equally easy to stay on that path. Detours are not my thing.

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I owe K Spena this meme.

NAME 5 FAVOURITE FOOD THAT YOU FEEL LIKE HAVING NOW

1. Ayam masak halia
2. Sotong / Udang / Ketam masak pedas
3. Bende goreng pedas dengan telur
4. Kari mushroom & aubergines, Patak style
5. Chicken tikka briyani

NAME 5 FOOD YOU WOULD LIKE TO HAVE FOR BREAKFAST IF YOU COULD

1. Nasi lemak lauk kerang & telur mata, no timun
2. Laksam
3. Nasi kerabu
4. Nasi goreng seafood
5. Mee hoon sup

NAME 5 FOOD YOU WOULD MOST LIKELY BUY FOR BERBUKA TODAY

Di sini nggak ada Pasar Ramadhan. Tapi kalau ada…

1. Air asam boi

Ya, satu saja yang saya idamkan. That, or Air Jagung Special…

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For £3128, you could have an 11-day breast augmentation holiday in Malta. But for £2180, you could do the same in Penang. Thanks Mooke for the pointer.

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Would it be too ambitious for me to try and read today’s paper, today?

Routine may bore some, but it also provides stability. So perhaps it’s stability that’s boring; the lack of a challenge, a dynamic and vibrant environment, spontaneity and surprises. Being back at work denies me of one part of my Ramadhan routine I very much enjoyed in Malaysia – my afternoon nap! But despite the slightly longer fasting hours here (imsak is approximately around 5am, iftar is approximately 6.45pm) there is less need for a recharge nap: if there is one thing I am grateful for as this cold spell sets in, at least it makes for a less thirsty day. Then again, if one falls into bed at the godforsakenly early hour of 9pm.. what’s the need for an afternoon nap?

I’ve tried to keep up with what we used to do back in Bangi in the hour or so leading up to the Maghrib azan – I watch Diari Ramadhan Rafique. Thanks to YouTube, of course, and now Mooke has got me hooked on Gol & Gincu: The Series. Funnily enough, both shows are a bit preachy and sometimes push certain points of view in your face, but then again perhaps that’s the flavour of current Malaysian tv. Mind you there was this one episode of G&G Season 1 where an old friend came to visit in KL and the girls took her out to play futsal – now isn’t that a familiar memory, I laughed to myself as I watched it. Yes I am still missing Bangi heaps. But such is life.

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Today on the drive to work, Radio 4 celebrated the centennial of one of the world’s most famous publishing houses: Mills & Boon! I personally thought it was scandalous that they had whole series of these romances lining the walls of the library at STF; where you could tell which books were the raunchy ones by the state of the book’s cover (meaning it was much read) and how these books often opened at certain pages. Interestingly enough, M&B started off as a general fiction publisher, and only started including sex in the novels in the 70′s. Often criticised for the way male-female dynamics were portrayed, nevertheless its legion of fans hold steady to the one thing M&B novels provide them: moments of escapism. Or so they say…

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Oh dear God, don’t I write the most banal entries these days? I have neither a reason nor an excuse.

The sun rises on a new dawn. Yet few of us realize the debt we owe to those responsible for this. To those who dwell among us, anonymous, seemingly ordinary. Whom destiny brought together to repair, to heal, to save us from ourselves.

And when destiny does unite them, how do they hide from it? How long can they dwell in the shadows before either fate, or their own flawed humanity draws them out in to the light again? And how will they know what awaits them when it finally does?

Hehehe… it’s baaaaaaaaaaack!!!! (Oh Peter )