I’m Graduating in a Week!

I know, it has been too long since I last wrote here. I feel like this is how I always start my blog posts – by apologizing for taking 475389 weeks off writing to three of my loyal readers (me, included).

But today is not the time to apologize – we’ll save that for a year from now, when I write my next blog post. Today, I celebrate the fact that I’m officially graduating in less than a week. Five days, to be precise.

Not only that – I’m also graduating with first class honors AND as the valedictorian! I’m shamelessly smiling to myself with pride now. For two years, my dad has been asking me about graduating with honors and I can’t believe I can finally give him that good news.

I worked my butt off for this and although I kinda expected the results I got, I NEVER saw myself as valedictorian. That was the biggest surprise. Sure, I imagined myself giving a speech at graduation a few times as I was growing up – but that was more of a fantasy I came to accept would never happen because I am a Mass Communications student. Everyone openly thinks mass comm is an easy course (it’s not) and that anyone can pull it off. With that in mind, I always assumed the valedictorian candidates would only come from the ‘high-end’ courses like medicine, accounting and law.

But I’m not going to dwell on that too much. However, I’m going to say something (tastefully) to all the naysayers (my parents’ friends included, and one of my childhood peers) that tried to put me in a place where I felt like I was lesser than them.

Fuck that. I worked my ass off and I know for a fact that some of them could never do what I did. I’m proud of my work. Took me five whole years to say these words. I always felt like I was not good enough or that my work was subpar. But none of those were true. I only wish I stopped feeling this way a long time ago so that I could enjoy all the kind words and compliments my lecturers and family had given me about my work and short films. I would probably feel a lot better and confident today. In fact, I would probably have pursued some of my ideas – ideas that I never had the guts to go with because I thought they were bad.

I have so much more to say but I’m going to save it for another day. I just wanted to check in here and get the ball rolling again.

I’m wearing a baju kurung and I already received my robe and mortarboard. I have so much to look forward to and a speech to work on.


Till the next one!




I’m Really Bad With Titles So Screw This

Thanks to the beautiful celebration that is Thaipusam, we had a public holiday on Thursday. And with Fridays already off for me, it made for a nice and long weekend.

The holiday came just in time, thankfully. My grandmother had quite a nasty fall early this week and bruised almost her entire left side and so she came to stay with us for a few days. She forced me to finish up this one assignment I have been procrastinating for weeks, which is a good thing since I haven’t had anyone force me to do my school work .. Ever. Feels good.

Funny thing, I discovered she enjoys TV series about superheroes. I convinced her to start watching The Flash with me and it’s safe to say she’s addicted. She’s dying to know who the Yellow Flash is. Lol. It always fascinates me when old people talk about these kind of things. I’m also really glad I got to spend time pampering her. Sometimes I don’t realize just how much I love her.

My grandmother is a fascinating woman. Although you probably won’t see that unless you’re family. She is the eldest of 11 siblings. She left school early because she needed to work to support her family. Her mother, a superwoman herself, took on a heavy load when her husband passed away. Can you believe how difficult that must’ve been? To support 11 children (all one year apart) by yourself at that time? And my grandmother told me how sad she was to have left school, but did it because she had to. I get upset just thinking about it and all the other things they had to sacrifice. But then she met my grandfather who made her happy during all the years they were married to one another until the day he passed away. Words cannot describe how much I treasure the two of them.

Anyway, back to more serious talk. My brother has a new girlfriend. She’s alright. Okay fine, she’s nice. Those of you who know me well ( which is literally NONE of you reading this cause the blog is hidden from my friends), know that I have been very picky about the girls my brother chooses to spend his time with – especially since they could very well be the women he spends the rest of his life with. Also because he’s gullible, innocent and my LITTLE brother.

He’s 21.

Her name is Brenda and she is my favorite so far. I actually really like her. It’s just, I don’t know.. He will always be my little brother and it’s really hard to see your little brother hug other girls like ‘that’, or go to the corner with them to hang out and get all touchy-feely, or see him watch movies with her instead of you anymore. I’m not clingy, it’s just… He’s my LITTLE brother. I fought boys who bullied him in school – physically, by the way. I gave one of his teachers, who also happened to be my teacher FYI, a mouthful when she spoke about him in class. I’m very overprotective and I don’t know how to tell my mother this without her thinking I’m crude and possessive. You see, I just want what is best for him. He’s growing up now and he has his own beard too.

Still a little boy to me.

Some of you are probably coming to the realization that I might need professional help letting him go from the clutches of my very skinny arms. I agree. So if you know anyone, send them this way.

And now I must leave to write that darn report I was supposed to do on Friday but chose to watch re-runs of the Flash with my grandmother instead. I will pay the heavy price for that this coming Thursday, the day before the report is due.

Ugh, this is so unlike me. I’m usually the one who finishes first, about a few days in advance AT LEAST. But not this semester. This time, I’m somehow the laziest I have ever been in all my four years in college. Motivation is lost in me. I might make missing fliers so it may find it’s way home to me again.

I hate, hate, hate how I need to beg my friends to Skype with me to keep me in check so I don’t end up disappearing five minutes in to go listen to songs for two hours, all the while imagining myself doing something I would never be doing in real life – like speaking in front of class voluntarily. Sometimes I’d imagine a reality where I didn’t have a resting bitch face too.

So, that’s it for now. I am not looking forward to another 10 am class tomorrow.



4 am Thoughts

Up at 4 am doing some research for my assignment when I decided to take a break and scroll through Facebook ( like I did four minutes ago.Shh). I quickly go through my timeline, trying to resist the urge to NOT take another Buzzfeed quiz and then I come across a certain post.

Let me just say that recently, I was writing another article to post up on the blog about how we ought to understand one another better and not hate the other person for having a different opinion – whether or not that opinion is them supporting Trump or thinking women need to stay at home. I said in the post that if we all learned to respect what someone else had to say no matter how much we hated it or how offensive it was, that maybe we could change their minds for the better someday.

But that is so so difficult to do when you come across people on your very own friendlist who blatantly post things they know will hurt you. And trust me, I only keep family and close friends on my Facebook, so this person belonged somewhere in between. He isn’t just some stranger, we are technically family.

I’m not saying you need to refrain yourself from having an opinion with the fear of offending someone (in which case we would have to stop saying anything altogether), but I think you can do it with a little more tact and respect. I like being blunt, but I stop short when I know it will hurt or discriminate someone else.

I’m not one who gets offended easily. In fact, I make fun of people who do and most of the time, I’m at the receiving end of my own jokes. But heck, every once in a while like right now, it gets a little too much. I’m tired of seeing stereotypical posts about Muslims and Muslim women on Facebook. I’m tired of seeing people confuse an entire culture as a representation of an entire religion – they are two very different things. Tired of all the political hate and everything else. I want a week where the worst thing we will see on the news is a puppy being rescued from a tree, or a cat. Whatever.

I don’t understand. You criticize Muslims and Muslim women and you view them from this little peeping hole. I would get it if you don’t know any Muslims at all, but you do. You know me and you know I don’t fit into that stupid stereotype you group us all in. But you refuse to believe in that because it’s not what you want to see.

Why are we so hateful ?


Positive Mind – New Year, Better Me

Merry Christmas and happy new year.

I’m still adjusting to the new reality that is 2017. 2016 was an awful year, but not because of all the celebrity deaths. People die everyday and in worse conditions. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not downplaying their deaths – it is equally saddening. But, being as active on social media as I am, I cannot help but feel numb towards deaths by heart attacks, suicide or accidents anymore.

It’s sad isn’t it? To be exposed to so many horrible things that certain atrocities no longer bother you. It shouldn’t be that way but I would be lying if I said otherwise.

Besides that, last year started of with three deaths of those close to me, one of whom was a childhood friend. The rest of the year slowly fell into place in many ways, with one obstacle after another. P.S: Does anyone ever feel like every time you’re about to score, something holds you back? Yeah, that was 2016 in a gist for me. After a while, you can’t help but lose hope and feel a wee bit negative.

I always hear about people saying that we can take charge of our own happiness. I scoffed at that more than once because I always believed that things/people/events were what made happy moments.  It took me awhile to realize that that idea only resonated with me because I didn’t want to be responsible for myself. For those of you who don’t know me ( and for those of you who do), I’m careful to avoid being put in a position in which I can be blamed. So I usually end my sentences with “I think”, just so you can’t put the blame on me completely. It’s a habit I’m trying to work on changing.

Anyway, back to what I was saying.

I don’t know anyone who would describe me as an optimistic individual – heck, I wouldn’t call this optimism to begin with. However, choosing to let go of some of the anger, grief and overall unhappiness little by little that have accumulated in me in the past four years have been liberating. I don’t know how else to describe it. I’m not saying that I’m an overall negative person ( truly, I’m not), but there were instances in which I couldn’t help but feel less than happy about how certain things worked out. And because I’m not the kind of person who let’s go or even talks about how I feel, it just piles up over time.

The most difficult one of all to let go of was the grief. After four years, I still deeply feel the loss of my grandfather. On some days, it feels so raw that I am suddenly back at the hospital room he passed away in. If I’m being completely honest with myself, I think that a part of me felt that getting over his death meant forgetting about him, like he was just another person. At certain points throughout the past four years, I felt guilty for being happy or enjoying Christmases even. There is a part of me that still feel those things, even now as I’m writing this.

Then again, I don’t think we completely get over the people who were a part of us, but we can choose to channel it in a different way. For what has felt like forever, I’m finally starting to feel the way I used to.

A lecturer once told me I have to want to feel happy again and not wait for it to waltz its way into my life – that was probably the wisest thing she ever said to me. So now, I’m choosing to stop dwelling on that fateful week in December 2012, but to use all my time and energy to appreciate every living second with those I still have with me. Because when my grandfather passed away, all I could think about was how I wished he could’ve seen me do all that he wished for.. Never stopping to think for a second that I still have important people here who can see it for themselves. I don’t want to ever be in a position where I have to wonder “what if”.. I never had that problem with my grandpa because we had a beautiful relationship and yet, I was still very distraught when he passed away.

With that being said, I have turned over a new leaf and I’ve been working on feeling better ever since. I have decided to forgive and look past certain things too. Feels great so far.

But let me tell you this. Being positive and choosing to feel better or be a better person is not as easy as everyone makes it out to be. It is so, so hard. It will be worth it though. Even though this resolution started out late last year, I’m determined to make 2017 a year I can be proud of. A year for self growth.

Now excuse me while I struggle to get back into a normal sleep pattern. By that I mean, not sleeping at 7.30 in the morning watching re-runs of The Flash again.





I saw a video today of a father looking down at the body of his child. There was a fire in a Johor hospital and the child was unfortunately one of the casualties.

I do not want to take away from his grief, but watching that clip brought back some sour memories for me. I remember doing the same thing to my grandfather on December 4th, 2012. I remember looking down at him in the coffin, making sure my tears don’t fall on his face.

I remember the ice packs at the sides and how cold his hand were to the touch. I recall trying to savor my last moments with him, even though he wasn’t truly there.

I struggled inside when I did this, not being sure of whether I wanted to remember him that way or as the witty character he was when he had life in him. I wasn’t sure if I would regret choosing not to look one last time. So I just stared while my thoughts battled one another.

It was during moments like those where I wished for clarity. I don’t always know what to do, or what to think.. But at that moment I wish I did.

I miss him very much. I remember in the weeks before he left us, he told me he was proud of me – even though I never gave anyone anything to be proud of at that time as a lazy 17-year old. He also said that he wanted to see many things and one of them included me going to college and graduating.

If he felt proud of the easy-going moderate student I was back then, I think he would be so happy to see me as the hard-working and serious college student I am today and how well I’m doing. He worked in the same field I am currently studying in.

He was like a second father to me.

Four years on and I have come to a point where I try to avoid thinking about him at all in the morning so that it won’t make me upset for the remainder of the day. Maybe someday I will accept that he is gone, but sadly it won’t happen just yet.

I dread Christmas these days because of how I always come across things that remind me of gifts I would’ve gotten him. I no longer enjoy the holiday like I used to at all. If anything, it gives me a knotted feeling in my stomach right up into the new year.

Pops, wherever you are, I hope you’re at peace and at ease. You’ve spent so much of your life worrying about others and taking care of them.

I Love you.

It feels so ridiculous to have to say these things here because I know he is never going to read it.



On Turning 21 and Adulting

So, I turned 21 last week!

My birthday wishes were almost always accompanied with either congratulations on finally having my ‘keys’ to freedom, or asking me when I’m throwing my big 21st birthday bash.

It’s like as if after all these years, my family still doesn’t see me for the boring introvert I am. That’s alright, I’m all about surprises – and by that I mean the kind of surprise that makes a person go “Ah..” , not “Oh!”.

I don’t drink and I hate being at the center of attention in any form – what more a party thrown just for me. It’s not that I hate people (I don’t), or that I don’t like having company.. I’m just a big fan of staying home in my room, listening to action packed music and pretending I’m in Game of Thrones.

I’m more of a “lazy-Tuesday-in-my-room-with-my-jammies-and-daydreaming-for-hours” kinda girl (don’t underestimate my art of phasing out). That, or I spend the day scrolling through Facebook, ‘saving’ articles I know I won’t remember to read.

The only thing I did want for my birthday was to get myself registered as a voter! And I made it very clear to my parents, family and some friends that it was the only thing that mattered, nothing else.

It has been three years since the last General Election and back then I wanted to vote for very different reasons than the ones I have right now – being someone who now has a more educated opinion on the political sphere in Malaysia than my 18 year old self did.

I woke up this morning with the goal of making sure I get it done and not end up procrastinating it like I do with every other important thing in my life – like driving. Imagine having your licence and not sitting behind the wheel for THREE YEARS. I’m pretty sure a recording of me attempting to park a car right now would end up being one of those videos that go viral.

After class, I walked to the printing shop to make a copy of my identity card, in case I needed it. As I was about to leave, I notice some drizzle. Literally three steps later and it’s pouring cats and dogs. At this point, I still had like, another 50 steps to get to somewhere with a roof. I was not going to ruin my hair and clothes since I already screwed up my make up before I even left the house in the morning.

But I was a girl on a mission (or am I a woman now?). So I decided to ruin my bag instead, and use it for cover.

On the way to the office, I realize that my dad was two minutes away. Normally when my dad says two minutes, what he really means is 45 minutes. He decided to turn over a new leaf today.

Long/boring story short, I convinced him to park outside while I go in and do the most adult thing I ever did in all my 21 glorious years of life.

As of now, I have registered to vote. I need to wait a few days, maybe even weeks, while they process my application and then it’ll be official!

Is it weird of me to register so early on? The next election is most likely only taking place in 2018. I felt so shy even asking the lady where do I register.

But whatever. I feel pretty damn good. I can actually go make a difference now. I get a say in what happens next and that’s the most powerful weapon in my book.

In other news, I have submitted my final assignment for the semester and come Monday, I’ll be done with my finals too. I can’t wait to get this first semester over and done with. Learning how to animate has been the most exhaustive thing to happen to me – and this coming from a person who created an 84-page coffee table book in four weeks, while writing a movie script and managing a club simultaneously before.

So it’s not so much the workload, but the fact that I’m doing something I don’t like. I realize how bratty that sounds and that we’re all going to have to go through that at some point in our lives.

But I now know what it would feel like to spend the rest of your career doing something you hate. You know that saying about how if you were to love what you’re doing, you won’t have to work a day in your life? That resonated with me so hard this semester.

I realize that not all of us will be so lucky as to be able to land a job doing something we are truly passionate about, but now I just want to strive harder for it even more.

I will probably spend the rest of my day wondering why Mass Communication students were required to take such a heavy technical subject that has little to do with our line whatsoever in the first place. But I can’t deny the trickle of good that came out of it.

The optimistic person in me wants to believe that everything happens for a reason.. Including the things that make you lose sleep for more than a week while ruining your biological clock and potentially shortening your life span in the process.

But yea, things fall into place when we’re not looking, right?

However, for at least a couple of my assignments, I did pretty well. And that was for the only two subjects I liked. So for that, I’m really happy!

Till the next post.




Ramadan, Bazaars and Racial Unity


The past month in Malaysia has been full of opinions and discussion from Muslims about what is proper and what is not.

This coming Wednesday marks the end of Ramadan – the Muslim holy month. In case you’re not familiar with this, Muslims spend the month fasting from food and water (among other things) from sunrise to sunset. In a nutshell, this is to put ourselves in the shoes of those who are less fortunate – to know what it’s like to want what you can’t have, basically.

On one end you have extremos telling your non-Muslim friends to not eat in front of them and on the other you have normal Muslims like me who try to tell you why that defeats the sole purpose of Ramadan. The again, this worrying mentality is slowly becoming another norm in Malaysia lately.  When we’re not arguing about racial politics, some religious folks will try to justify why their way is better than yours. It makes me sad that a country I was always proud to be a part of for its beauty and diversity is slowly birthing self entitled assholes from every corner. Our new generation is disgusting.

Then again, it’s not always like this.

With Malaysia being a Muslim majority country, Ramadan is kind of a big deal here, whether that person is Muslim or not. There are non-Muslims who fast with their Muslim friends too as a sign of solidarity or just for fun.

But the best part about all of this would have to be the Ramadan bazaars found in almost every housing area. The delicious food spread and colorful drinks are worth drooling over.

These bazaars consists of families and businesses serving their food on tables, with royal blue tents, shielding them from the sun. It’s usually very noisy due to everyone talking about their day at work /school and the sound of  ladles hitting against the frying pans – the sign of food being freshly prepared for customers.

Oh yes, the food! Don’t get me started on the food.

They have everything from kuih lapis, ondeh-ondeh, seri muka to nasi lemak, deep fried squid, ayam golek percik, asam laksa,  ikan bakar and a spread of traditional malay curries and sambals. The drinks range from coconut water to blue lemon drinks – they tend to go a little overboard with the coloring on this one. But well, after 14 hours of hunger and thirst, you’d be surprised at what you walk out of the bazaar with.

Seeing multiracial shoppers (yep, you could call them that because everyone comes back from it with morbid amounts of food that make them look like they just walked out from a sale) walking together, laughing and interacting. Everything seems so simple and calm. Nobody seems to be divided by the politics or bothered with the outside world.

I’m sorry if I made you think Malaysians are racist during the remaining 11 months. We truly are not. But like I said, a lot of things have been happening lately. Ideologies are being spread, religious teachings are being corrupted and people of faith are being stereotyped. Even when someone doesn’t openly state what they truly feel towards a certain group of people, it’s not something you can hide. Sometimes, even I get tired of the constant bullshit.

It’s so easy to hate, isn’t it?

Which is why I look forward to the evenings just to see this calmness amidst the crowd. Yesterday I saw a lady donate money to a man in the bazaar and then I watched as a couple of women walked down the street in their old fashioned kebayas. One stall started blasting old Hari Raya music. Everything about that day felt so good.

This morning in the wet market, an elderly woman randomly made conversation with my mum and I while we were busy picking out chilies. She asked us what we were cooking and I told her it was for the beef rendang. And to think I woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning due to having only two hours of sleep last night. I just felt better instantly. The lady’s friendliness really did brighten up both my mum’s and my day.

Picking fresh fish from the market this morning.

Too bad this month is coming to an end in a matter of days. I see racial and religious unity around me in the way my friends and I respect each other all the time, so I’m no stranger to the beauty of it. But there is truly nothing better than seeing different people bonding together over food.



P.S: Hari Raya literally translates to ‘day of celebration’ , which is the Malaysian way of saying ‘Eid-il-fitri’, which marks the end of Ramadan.