I’m in the middle of my exams and my mind is a bedlam but I’m determined to write today no matter what. I know by the end of this I’ll be screaming with self-condemnation and whatnots, but for now, let me be. This won’t be a long essay outlining some key guidelines to world peace, nor will it be an angsty commentary on why no football player is worth a hundred million pounds when people in Gaza are starving and that Kaka is hundred million times better off in Milan anyway (Giorgio Armani agrees with me too).
I just want to make a few statements to people who matter to me- specifically those whom I don’t contact often. OK, that would make ALL the people that matter. To my defence, firstly, my archaic hand phone has officially been retired.
The fall from grace was gradual- the screen initially went blank, though I could still receive calls and send messages (with a blank screen, mind. Kinda like a twisted version of Braille). The state then progressed to receiving calls but not hearing the caller’s voice when picked up (but he/she could still hear me). So the phone could still be useful if, say, hypothetically, I was kidnapped and managed to call my sister and informed her of the situation so that she could get help, but would be totally ineffective if the situation was reversed. By then, I already sensed the downhill direction of this device I bought a little over two years ago after ‘donating’ my previous faithful one to the hospital where I had my practical classes.
And as of today, I can’t even use it as an alarm anymore- gotta be content with that shrieking monotonous sound of my table clock. No more good music waking you up. But that’s the least of my concerns- bottom line is, I can’t contact any of you guys. For some of you who use the internet as much as I do, it’s not that big of a problem, but I know some of you who don’t.
To get to the point after that dismal, rather unnecessary ode to my hand phone, I miss a lot of people back home. Especially after talking to my parents the day before yesterday- I sorely miss home. I want to go home. And I’m not talking about the food one bit this time. Really.
Perhaps it’s part of the exam syndrome. Or the after-effect of “Hari bersama pejabat dekan”. Anyhow, I’m so not in the mood to study now (aah, finally I let that out loud and clear!). I think I’ll make myself a cup of tea.
ps: Great photos by my brother Muhammad taken during Palestine solidarity rallies in Cardiff and Bristol. Way to go, badut!
This pic was published in Reuters's site. (Hope you won't mind me putting it up here. My site carries more weight than theirs. Hahaha.) ;)
In the month of Muharram, we should remember the Hijrah of the Prophet (peace and blessings be upon him) from Makkah to Madinah. There are many lessons in this story and it can help us understand the basic significance of the Hijrah calendar. It is good to remember that Hijrah was a significant move for the growth of Islam and throughout history, Islam has benefited from the Hijrah.
It is also the Sunnah of the Prophet (peace and blessings be upon him) to fast on the 9th and 10th of Muharram. The Prophet (peace and blessings be upon him) used to fast on the 10th day (`Ashura'). When he came to Madinah, he found out that the Jews of Madinah were also fasting on this day remembering Prophet Musa (peace and blessings be upon him). The Prophet (peace and blessings be upon him) admired this tradition and he said to the Jews, "We are closer to Musa than you are." He fasted and he also told his Companions to fast on this day. Later, before the end of his life on this earth, the Prophet (peace and blessings be upon him) told Muslims to add the 9th day also. Thus, it is recommended to fast on both the 9th and 10th of Muharram.
It is also good to remember the great sacrifice of Al-Husain and his family (may Allah be pleased with all of them). Theirs was the true Jihad for the cause of truth and justice. We should learn the lessons of courage, patience and perseverance from the episode of Karbala' (year 61 A.H. / 680 C.E).
Dr. Muzammil Siddiqi, president of the Fiqh Council of North America
~~~
New year holidays are a blanket term that predominantly comprises of study leave for winter exams. So whilst I should be out there painting the town red (or white, to be in tune with the mood) or stuffing snowballs into some poor fella's hood, I'm glued to these four walls, torn between the bed and the table. I did go out yesterday, actually, but it didn't snow. Those white thingies are mischievous- they would usually choose exam days and those surrounding them to pay us a merry visit. How befitting.
I remember entering 2005 with the world shrouded by the Indian Ocean tsunami tragedy. Today, we usher into 2009 and 1430 with a parallel atmosphere- in the form of classic work of terrorism by the Israeli Zionists. There are so many emotions compressing my chest when asked to voice my opinion on this particular issue, mostly excruciating to try putting into words. Whether you’re a Muslim and think that this is by and large an issue of native Palestinians wanting to regain the rights to their land and deny the primary cause being religious (which is a misapprehension, if you study the Quran and hadith), or a non-Muslim who think this an Islamic cause and has nothing to do with you, you can’t deny the fact that what we see happening in Palestine today is an injustice in the most extreme of definitions. What indeed is the justification of the Zionists invading the land, ousting its inhabitants by force, besides it being their so-called promised land? And how can the rest of the world even justify that when 99% of us are not even Jewish? I fail to see the logic in an era overfed with a supposed sense of political correctness and pretend civilisation.
It is difficult to resolve the crisis when the bad guys get all the backings from certain giant superpowers who swiftly pave the way for these people to play big bullies, quashing any efforts from other parties to restore integrity. What then, can we measly members of the society do?
Firstly, we have to take a stand. I, as a Muslim, perhaps feel a greater sense of kinship with this issue, but it’s a cause everyone should be aware of. What can we do against these terrorists, being so far away from our brothers and sisters? We pray, pray, and keep praying. We spread the news; build up awareness within the public. And a point strongly stressed in yesterday’s weekly halaqah centering on this current predicament- strive to improve ourselves, to make ourselves worthy Muslims whose prayers will be answered.
Why do we boycott their goods? To show our solidarity and earnestness, with the ambitious goal of subverting their economy. Why do we make public protests? Again, to show our solidarity AND to pressure these people into retracting their actions. International pressure has been proven to work in past aggressions, and although it may not bear similar results in this case, what do we have to lose? I believe it’s better than going about in our everyday complacency, perhaps occasionally condemning these abominable acts when they’re shown on TV, and that’s that. It’s something I feel strongly about, and although I can’t have everyone seeing it through my eyes, I wish they would. I’ve blogged about this issue a couple of times already, but it’s a timeless cause, and I will continue to bring it up in the future.
So I guess that ends my reflection of December. As of the year 2008- it has been a good year, but I wish I had written more. I wish I had done a whole lot more. Well.
And I miss home.
This month has served as a period of self-evaluation for me, which classically means a lot of clashing dialogues with my conscience at any moment in time. I think it’s good to maintain an active relationship with your conscience- as long as you keep it between you and your conscience, of course. It also reflects, to me at least, just how imperfect and unsure I am of every single step I make in life, more so than I had willed myself to admit. Perhaps some revolve around so-called redundant matters like what to cook for dinner, whether I should do the laundry now or later, etc. but some others do carve their makings into the patterns of my present and future. Besides, I intend not to belittle every small decision I make, even if it were a question of choosing between fresh and frozen broccoli, for the lack of a better example.
I suppose it began with me spraining my left ankle for the umpteenth time and pretended to be superman by continuing to walk up and down the hill on my way to class before taking buses and trams like I always did, play sports, and injuring it again with the coolest of bruises that extended up to 5cm above the ankle. My sister chewed me out with talks of permanent damage if I didn’t give it a proper rest and that I might not even be able to become a surgeon because I couldn’t stand for long. So I decided to be kind to my hurt ankle by selling my newly-bought bus-and-tram pass and taking marshrut to class for the entire month. I was also to come straight back home after every class without any unnecessary detours. To make a short story shorter, I’ve been having a lot of ‘me’ time as a result, which explains the self-evaluation part.
Some other trials and tribulations played their roles as well, and I’ve been trying hard to take a positive approach towards everything I’ve faced so far. It’s quite amusing when someone recently commented that I always seemed happy doing whatever I was doing, when in fact I had just cried my eyes out earlier that day. In one way or another, it’s a good thing that I managed to keep the negative aura within bounds, but some of my issues need solutions, for which I am yet to uncover. I’m turning to Allah for strength, and to my parents for inspiration in facing their own ordeals. My father is the archetype of calmness, and faces his current test in a most exemplary attitude as a Muslim. My mother, despite being a worrywart, never fails to give me the most necessary advices when I need them. I look up to them both, and pray Allah will ease them along their every path.
This year has been a year of tests for our family- plainly spelled out for my youngest brother and sister in the form of PMR and SPM, more intricately woven for the rest of us in many ways feasible. That’s not to say it’s a bad year- for me it’s been… enlightening, with lots of ups and downs. In the struggle for the better, occasionally- okay, more than occasionally- the demon in me will come out and spoil my willpower. It’s a constant frustration, the bane of my resolution. Yes, nobody’s perfect- everybody has their inner demons- but, whether it is due to better awareness in my part (how I wish so), or just for the degree of evilness it truly is, I really hate mine and wanna totally get rid of it. I suspect it won’t ever go away fully, but maintaining the struggle, or jihad, is essential nonetheless. Inner demons are not good for you- they mess with your mind, dim your hopeful future, and make you look totally uncool in front of your conscience.
Today, further sad news came to test us- my great-grandmother just passed away in the morning due to a lung infection. I last saw her in August, during which she appeared healthy and in high spirits- she even gave me a good hard slap on the thigh after laughing from a joke. I pray that she be placed amongst the blessed believers in the hereafter and spared from any torment in the grave. And let’s all reserve a moment to remind ourselves of this fleeting phase called life, and its nemesis, death- how near it is to each and every one of us regardless of age, gender, status, race… and how (un)prepared we truly are for it.
To a beautiful person who turns 21 today. We haven’t met in two years, yet she is still the person I wish to share all my happy and sad stories with. It is still a wish, but I think we’re past all that nitpicking- no matter what happens, we will always have each other’s back to cling to. Be happy, and may Allah place us under His guidance always.
After yet another search for old pics and two CDs later, I found these, taken when we last went to eat sushi, which I believe was in 2005. That's ancient, kiddo.
We’re celebrating eid on Tuesday over here- a heartfelt wish to my Muslim brothers and sisters all over the world. Ramadhan, as always, elapse fleetingly, and I am routinely left wondering whether I have truly made the most of this period of bounty and mercy.
First day of Syawal will be observed within the four walls of our mobster of a lecturer’s room, trembling from fear of being the next victim of her ‘constructive criticism’. Haha. I made her sound quite criminal, but she’s not, really. She just scowls instead of smiles, and does not practice filtration of thoughts, is all. Oh and don’t try to act smart unless you’re sure, or she may start to question your worth as a human being. These trivia swept aside though, she’s a brilliant doctor and teacher. I just wish our Opthalmology classes had ended before Syawal- next cycle is pretty stress-free- so that we can have a proper celebration.
We’re going through quite a chilly autumn now, as opposed to last autumn at this time of year. Green colour still dominates, although the shade gets duller by the day. I’m coveting the sight of my favourite season here- seas of golden leaves with blushes of crimson speckled in between. It’s the best time for choosing to walk back home from classes- the best time for appreciating the delicacy of nature, as the weather is neither too cold nor too hot for comfort. The sun rises later, giving you a chance to get a glimpse of its glory (no similar chance during summer- unless you’re an owl).
I’ve seen so many sunrises here, more than I’ve ever had back in Malaysia. As seasons trade places, so do my sleeping and waking time, and thus, for a variety of reasons, I consider watching the sunrise most opportune during late autumn and early winter, and exam time in summer (when you magically transform into an owl). For the past three years I’ve lived in this side of the building, facing the sunrise. And all this while, I’ve been longing to switch to the other side towards the sunset. For I’ve always thought that sunsets are prettier than sunrises, and the sunsets here are really something to behold of. Imagine a rainbow the size of the sky.
When it comes down to it, I can watch the sunset every day easily as my sister’s room is just on the opposite side- she indulges in the wonder every day. But I don’t. For the most part, it’s due to lack of attentiveness- the sky will almost always have gone dark when I come to notice about time. But also, I love the moment when I suddenly come across the sunset once in a while- the surge of amazement at such an ornate mesh of colours profiling the sky. I doubt the feeling of awe will recede by watching it every day, but occasions do make things appear more special.
In spite of it, however, I still wish I can watch the sunset every day- some things I believe won’t lose their magic even through constant repetition, and sunsets are one of them.
For now though, I’m perfectly content with beautiful sunrises.
Salam Ramadhan everyone.
Two months later and it might feel like I’ve lost my grasp on the writing habit- you know what they say after a continuous 40 days of doing something (or not doing something, for that matter). But old habits die hard, and I’ve been itching since roughly five weeks ago to phrase my thoughts into coherent writing. Suffice to say that I’ve failed, miserably, which says a lot about my current state of mind- incomprehensible. I’m strangely in high spirits, but not the kind that gets you jumping up and down the floor screaming your heads off- more like lying-down-on-bed-dreaming kind of happy. I’m not very happy with the lack of words forming in my head though- swimming around merrily, but always out of reach. A brick wall inside your head is so not convenient.
So since I’ve been sidelined by my own head, I’d better be efficient- I’ll compartmentalise this post into appropriate moments that best illustrate the past two months I’ve been missing.
Best moment(s): every waking moment at home- I’ve been more ‘domestic’ than ever this holiday, traveling only to KL a few times for some grinding legal matters, meeting family and friends… but still it’s the best holiday so far (although I thought the same last year, and the year before too). The Olympics were so much fun and I found myself watching events that I never had much before, like archery and rowing, alongside favourite ones like football, tennis, swimming, badminton, and gymnastics. Other seemingly mundane stuff like eating out, taking pictures along the beach near the house, going to the local pasar malam, and sweating it out at Bukit Pelindung, were enough to make me one contented person.
With Tiey and Mant.
With Bihah and Mant.
With Erfa. Nice chocolate nectar eh, Pa? *laughs*
Worst moment(s): I don’t think it need be spelt, but well, I‘ll do it for effect. Hehe. The last day on home soil wins hands down as my worst moment this year, even. Summer holidays puzzlingly felt like they were getting shorter and shorter each coming year and by the end of it this time, I was totally caught by surprise. August especially, flew by unnervingly. So, the usual drama at the airport took place (I warned my dad beforehand not to make me cry this time, but he did, again. Argh.), plus another drama involving overweight luggages (we’re students! Give us some leeway!), and another involving that unfortunate time of month- all of which combined to make me one depressed traveler. Oh and, as always, I strained from the urge to vomit right before touching down on my final destination- what was with all the fancy motions by the plane anyway? It occurs every single time I fly, at the same location. Twilight zone stuff.
With family at KLIA before departure.
Funniest moment(s): I’ve retold this story over and over again, and I still find it tickling to the bones. There was a health awareness program at the clinic where my father worked and I accompanied him there for the day. A blood drive was held, and so I went to donate mine. The medical assistant there asked me random questions whilst poking me with the giant needle- my place of study, course, etc. Afterwards he got up to the nurses gathering nearby and jokingly said that someone came from Russia, referring to me. Not long after, a nurse came to my side, smiled, and asked, “Can you speak Malay?” Puzzled, all I could utter was “uh?” and she good-naturedly repeated her question before the situation sank in. I stifled the urge to laugh as I sheepishly answered her question to the affirmation. She then realised her misconception and gave an embarrassed laugh, together with practically everyone within a two-metre radius. Jeez, someone actually took me for a Russian, which was a hoot, considering how many Russians would normally stare at me like I couldn’t get more alien. Haha.
Weirdest moment(s): Have you seen a tapir other than the ones at the zoo? And two days in a row? I happened to see one at my grandfather’s orchard as he ran towards us before fleeing the other direction. The white saddle of his body startled me- he truly looked like a giant baby in a napkin. The very next day, I followed my dad to work (in Kerteh) and on the way back we saw a dead tapir by the roadside, appearing to have been hit by a car. There were cliffs at either side of the road with dividers alongside it, so it seemed unlikely that the tapir was attempting to cross the road in front of a car- he must have been hit whilst going along the road, a situation that seemed bizarre anyways. The weird encounters piqued my interest in the well-being of these cute animals. I know tapirs are endangered and protected animals, but unlike many other similarly-fated creatures in the past and present, these guys are not being hunted to extinction- they are essentially being driven out of their habitats due to deforestation for developmental purposes. What use is the protected status if they’re being actively rendered homeless by the authorities anyway? Do these people think tapirs find it fun to take a stroll across highways?
Sometimes people can just be infuriatingly ignorant about the welfare of our less-intelligent cohabitants. I can’t expect everyone to go gushy over a cute cat, sure, but at least practice some civilisation, if not compassion. Those who think it’s amusing to drill holes into a spider’s abode for instance, think again, this time using your brain. Would you like this to be done to you? Being ousted from your home and worse still, you can’t even say anything about it? Animals may lack higher cognitive functions that humans possess, but they know when we are being cruel to them. Unlike us, they are not capable of being cruel. So where’s the sense of shame? It’s not the fact that you see me as an animal lover- if treating these lovable creatures with justice and respect they deserve is solely the task of an animal lover, then every single one of us should become one. Enough of the unkindness and warped sense of superiority. Please.
Scariest moment(s): A tie between going past Bukit Bauk in Kerteh and my ambulatory exam second week of the current semester. My father told me the story of Bukit Bauk, a place so haunted people who went there came back suffering from fits of hysteria. The recreational park built at the foot of hill had been abandoned as nobody dared to come close to it. Every motorist going to Dungun though, must pass the entrance to the park, and even this near-encounter had caused some tingly experiences for many. So when my father and I were spending the night at Dungun due to the health awareness program the following day, I was naturally terrified at the thought of passing by the hill. Thankfully nothing happened, but my heart was doing double-twists the whole way, which I was sure had nothing to do with the works of supernatural creatures. My father, however, said he had intense headache as we drove past the infamous area. I made a silent vow not to ever go through this experience again.
The exam was an entirely different matter- we were all not really aware of its existence other than its existence (meaning we knew there would be an exam but were vague on the details), and all of a sudden we were doing practical reports and slammed with tens of questions about emergency medicine for the exam, all in a span of three days. I didn’t exactly nail it, enough to say, but it could have gone worse. And lucky I had the nice old lady for examiner. ;p
Special moments that made the holiday different: visiting my Quran teachers, old headmaster and great-grandmother. The first ustaz, Ustaz Yusof, had taught me Quran since I was little (about four I think) until I reached standard six, when he became ill and stopped teaching altogether. He was the one who taught me the proper way to recite the Quran, with precise makhraj and tajwid, and I couldn’t thank him enough for that. His strictness (always with a cane in hand) made us work harder; any moment of daydreaming would be swiftly halted by his booming, scolding voice.
Ustaz Hussein, in contrast, was very gentle n soft-spoken. He taught me the art of taranum, and a bit of berzanji. I first had a dream of me visiting him this holiday and immediately asked my dad about the plan, and thought of visiting the other two influential persons in my life as well. Seeing him for the first time after a few years made my eyes welled up with tears- he looked very thin and frail, walking with the aid of a walking frame. And as a result of his conditions, he didn’t remember every single one of us, even after we prompted him with details. I felt a mixture of sadness and happiness as we talked; sad to see him unwell and so thin (he used to be a little plump), happy to be able to see him again. It didn’t matter very much that he didn’t remember me anymore, I just wished him well and always under Allah’s blessings and protection.
Meeting Ustaz Yusof was a merrier event- he seemed healthy and in good spirits. We drank tea as we listened to his childhood stories, mainly about how he came to choose to study religion instead of more ‘academic’ courses, as he was one of the top students in his state at the time. When we were leaving, he broke into tears as he hugged my brother, and as I watched, I too, had to wipe away a tear or two. Elder people are easy to please- a simple visit like this is enough to make them feel so happy and appreciated, something that we younger people have to learn a lot from. Ustaz Hussein even said, “bila orang ziarah, rasa mcm ubat kepada penyakit kita.” Let’s be more grateful for what others have done to us, no matter how small the deed is.
Next destination: my old headmaster, whom I called mudir (‘headmaster’ in Arabic). He fell sick not a while ago, but when we met him he appeared to be his positive and smiling self. I looked up to him when I was a scruffy standard-one student- I would wait for him to arrive at school in his red proton saga and open his door for him. He would then thank me profusely and search his pockets for a RM1 coin to give me as a reward, and made my day. He was my English teacher, and a very good one at that. But more importantly, he was a great motivator- always encouraging me to expand my abilities further, be it in English or other subjects, by entering writing and oratory competitions, and even offered me to skip a grade once (it was a private school so that was possible). In short, he was my unofficial mentor, something not any teacher could simply be.
We took pictures with all three of them, and all of them had one common remark when asked for it- “Kena pakai cantik-cantik sikit…!” Ustaz Yusof even insisted to change his shirt and put on his serban. Hehe.
My sister, brother, and I with ustaz Hussein and his wife.
With Ustaz Yusof.
With Mudir.
I am not one of those students who are very close to their teachers; those who ask a lot of questions, confide in them with their problems, and even have their telephone numbers at hand… that’s not me. I prefer to ask my friends before resorting to the teacher (something that my mother wasn’t very happy with- “Always ask your teachers!” Hehe) and I keep my polite distance from them, save a very few. It’s not that I don’t value them much- I do- but I don’t know… perhaps because I was quite the rebel and often got into trouble with some teachers (minor stuff, nothing quite tragic). But anyway, I do appreciate my teachers and I want to visit them at my old schools, but due to my aforesaid states of relationship with most of them, I’d rather be accompanied by friends and visit as a group. So friends who read this, let’s do it sometime, alright? ;)
The last event I would like to mention is the visit to my great-grandmother’s place in Muar. My sister and I went with our grandparents on a day’s visit. She was the mother of my mother’s father, and, according to her identification card, she turned 100 this year (which was a bit far-fetched- she was more like 90). When we met her, she was in an amazingly good shape, her memory more than anything else. She remembered us clearly, what we were up to, and asked the well-being of each of our siblings. We stayed for lunch and went back to KL that evening.
I didn’t meet a lot of my friends this time, but I got to meet people from the older generation instead, which was just as swell. I might sound a bit dramatic in my accounts, but I did feel quite emotional during those visits, something that I tried to somewhat conceal at the time. I pray to Allah s.w.t to bless all these good people and put them amongst the righteous in the hereafter.
So there. An attempted short report made long. Excuse my plain and crude language, I’m writing this during a very demanding rotation with a lecturer whose remarks and expressions remind me of the Wicked Witch of The West, or bitter lemon. She’s a very good teacher though, but I still doubt I’ll ever consider choosing Ophthalmology as a specialty. Hehe.
Alright, I’m off to cook for iftar. I wish everyone a very happy and meaningful last ten days of Ramadhan, and special wish goes to my mother, father, brothers Muhammad and Luqman, sister Aliah; grandparents Aki, Tok Siah, Tok Mat and Tok Ampang; Acik, Ateh, Acu, Ummi Cik, Aunty Og, Aunty Ita, Aunty Hanis, and their respective families; Aunty Dah, Ibu, and all my friends… I’m sorry if I missed anyone. I guess this is my version of Salam Perantau.;p
My mum and dad... they celebrated their 24th anniversary on September 9th. May Allah bless both of you always. ;)
Ps: Today (22nd September) marks our 3rd anniversary of coming to Russia by the way. =)
Pps: Is this like, my longest post ever? *cackles*
Entering the third week of my holiday and I can conclude that I've done good in the eating department, at least. Still working on other more productive activities as planned, but goodness, idyllic times can be deceptive. In other words, whilst I should be writing some serious stuff about my travels, I'm being lured into building an army in this Knighthood game in Facebook by my dad. He has become some sort of a fan whilst I just only realised (or remembered, I can't remember) that I actually have an account, and about a hundred of unanswered gifts/invitations. He's now instructing me to expand my marketplace and recruit more vassals. I currently have about, uh, 6, so my friends out there, beware- I'm going to add all of you as my friends (and vassals) in Facebook! hahaha... dah lame tak buat bende2 mcm ni.
I did manage to read a couple of good books, climb manggis trees at my grandfather's orchard, buy stuff off my grocery list to bring back to the land of the bears, play with the cats (my allergy's getting worse though), and a full swing of other ordinary activities that define a wonderful holiday. But I still want to do some extraordinary things (in my book at least) this time around, so don't write me off just yet.
And I've got myself a new camera at long last... though I must decline the invitation to join the macro war by my uncles- haven't finished reading the manual yet, plus am still undergoing basic lessons from my brother on several techniques. Hehe. Another year, perhaps? ;p
Loving my moment!
It’s the same air we breathe, yet it feels different. Yes, it’s more humid, but that’s totally beside the point. I’m talking about this refreshing wave of familiarity rekindled; this friendly hot air pumping your sweat glands to work at full force- not quite unlike summer on the other side, but that minus the friendliness of course. Ask me not to elaborate on the friendliness- when you’ve lived three years in a land not exactly hailed for its hospitality, even the air becomes foreign.
So the long-anticipated summer holidays have finally arrived for everyone. I came home with quite an ambition this time- made a whole list of ambitious stuff to be accomplished. Like, for instance, finishing brutally unfinished chapters of growing travelogues. Perfecting my French- I mean, Russian. Or both, perhaps. Finding a lifelong cure for acne. The list goes on. Frankly, I think I have a better chance at winning Wimbledon than completing the list. Speaking of which, by the way, Federer lost to Nadal in a brilliant five-setter that got me glued to the screen till way past 4 in the wee hours of morning, no thanks to London rain which had the match suspended twice (thank God they’ll be putting the roof from next year onwards). I still think Federer’s winners (and not to mention aces) in his comeback after down two to love were pure genius, but kudos to Nadal for such dogged perseverance and vigour. It sure makes me wanna pick my racket up again… if only I had someone to play with. Tsk. (Erfa...!!!)
Writing has to take a backseat for a while now as I have tons to catch up on my reading. Except, of course, writing my travelogues. Yes, yes. Anyone interested, stay tuned… ;p
