tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-70210408150819404642024-03-06T07:37:50.619+08:00PancasaraPancasarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16932091411950895326noreply@blogger.comBlogger282125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7021040815081940464.post-11612002843679503082020-06-23T10:11:00.002+08:002020-06-23T18:59:11.663+08:00The Day My Kitten Stuck on the RooftopMy neighbour knocked on my front door early this morning.<br />
<br />
It MUST be about the kittens. Whenever the kittens encountered any difficulty that my neighbour couldn't resolve, I would be the saviour.<br />
<br />
I opened the front door, smiled at my young neighbour, and she explained the situation,<br />
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"The kitten..they are stuck on the rooftop"</blockquote>
I had a look at the poor kitten..yes it was stuck there. Just under my kitchen's window.<br />
<br />
I tried to push the kitten into the shovel..but to no avail. The innocent kitten just played with my shovel without any intention of being rescued.<br />
<br />
I gave up, went back into my small house and started reading some news, with CNN playing on TV in the background.<br />
<br />
I have plenty of important work to finish, hoping my resolve will persevere throughout all this.Pancasarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16932091411950895326noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7021040815081940464.post-92050529605137595632019-10-17T15:24:00.001+08:002019-10-17T15:24:07.681+08:00WhatoberActually I have nothing much to say.<br />
<br />
I am just restarting Pancasara...after a very long (937km?) hiatus. So much has happened to me, but I am very much glad that I am still alive and breathing.<br />
<br />
I am just here scribbling some words to get my old mood and feel of writing back. I used to write anything that came at the back of my mind, so now I am flexing that memory to life.<br />
<br />
I will be back writing, to preserve my memory. I forget a lot nowadays, maybe due to my advancing age. Writing will keep my memory on paper (or is it on the internet?).<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">* Whatober is the abbreviation of "what?? october already??" </span>Pancasarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16932091411950895326noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7021040815081940464.post-83168577632873226612018-08-18T01:41:00.002+08:002018-08-18T01:41:43.832+08:0017 AugustOn this day 73 years ago, a history was made.<br />
<br />
Indonesia proclaimed her independence from the Netherlands.<br />
<br />
Today, another history was written.<br />
<br />
On Indonesian soil, Malaysia shocked the defending champion Korea 2-1.<br />
<br />
The odds of them winning was so low, yet they had achieved the impossible.<br />
<br />
As the Indonesian fought hard against the Netherlands to gain their freedom, the Malaysian under-23 fought reasonably well against the mighty Korean to nail this historic win.<br />
<br />
Coincidentally, 73 years ago and today fall on the same day of Friday.<br />
<br />
There's another thing associated with this date that makes this two events even more meaningful...<br />
<br />
...at least for me.Pancasarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16932091411950895326noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7021040815081940464.post-79009808536811483802018-08-07T12:35:00.000+08:002018-08-07T12:36:25.939+08:00A REAL new beginningIt's been a year (!).<br />
<br />
How time really flies.<br />
<br />
Rusty and dusty, Pancasara should be revived.Pancasarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16932091411950895326noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7021040815081940464.post-27730892244739216862017-06-23T00:57:00.001+08:002017-06-23T00:57:40.483+08:00A New Beginning<div style="text-align: justify;">
It has been almost two months since I last visited Pancasara. I missed all the fervour that comes with writing that keeps me alive up until now.</div>
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A stockpile of seemingly neverending work is the only hurdle that prevented me from writing regularly here.</div>
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There are a lot of things that I missed...the luxury of time that I used to have at my disposal, the company of friends, the respect for work that I've accomplished; all these are slipping away from me at an alarming rate.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Nevermind...as long as I've never given up hope. Hope is half the battle. If we continue to have hope, we are halfway into the corridor of victory.</div>
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I've shaken up Pancasara a bit to give it a new fresh outlook. There are many things ahead, but together, we will strive to overcome it. With hope. </div>
Pancasarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16932091411950895326noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7021040815081940464.post-78747747493469735542017-04-24T22:35:00.000+08:002017-04-24T22:35:01.670+08:00April 2017I think, for the entire duration of my whole life, this is the longest April ever.<br />
<br />
Can't wait for all of this to end.<br />
<br />
Four days to go.Pancasarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16932091411950895326noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7021040815081940464.post-43405063139107239012017-04-09T23:33:00.001+08:002017-04-09T23:33:39.382+08:00The World According to Clarkson<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEyUbeZplWTCi0s65CIMDZqBh_5dP4b_RpG1tpzDV8IbblhmU1UasJAEKpl1Tx51UUtQl19V3jXWgXsgGfglXiT6S9hN9hpjvwSHEqF8nmISTD-W0Z4UTOIUj3zAdr1gAwX7t3RgQX_7l3/s1600/9780718178673_Z.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEyUbeZplWTCi0s65CIMDZqBh_5dP4b_RpG1tpzDV8IbblhmU1UasJAEKpl1Tx51UUtQl19V3jXWgXsgGfglXiT6S9hN9hpjvwSHEqF8nmISTD-W0Z4UTOIUj3zAdr1gAwX7t3RgQX_7l3/s320/9780718178673_Z.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Finished this giant book recently. I borrowed it from a local mini library in Bayan Baru...where I regard as my sanctuary.</div>
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The mini library was the source of almost all my reading materials as I am very short on cash to be spending on books. Plus I do not own a large space to accommodate all my books. In future, I hope to have a mini library in my own home to store all my stocks of beloved books.</div>
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Personally I am not very keen on Clarkson, as he was infamous once upon a while ago for deriding our national car Proton on his television programme. But upon reading his thoughts in writing, I think he is just <i>that</i> kind of person...a person who blurts out anything that crosses his mind. Can't blame him for that.</div>
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He also has a sense of humour...a lot of it to be exact. When Clarkson hates something, he hates it with every cell in his body, or in his own word "<b>I hate you at the cellular level</b>". I find this phrase hilarious and stupid, but that's just him.</div>
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I won't recommend this book, because it's too thick and too British-centred. But if you have nothing to do in the middle of the night and you can't sleep, this book is excellent. It will make you fall asleep faster.</div>
Pancasarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16932091411950895326noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7021040815081940464.post-19964973908931191882017-04-05T20:09:00.000+08:002017-04-06T00:02:07.285+08:00The Call<div style="text-align: justify;">
My father called me very late in the afternoon yesterday.</div>
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I was sleeping then, trying to recuperate from my flu. I wrapped up my work and went home early because my runny nose and frail body still bothering me.</div>
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I listened intently to my father's grouses (it was about the now infamous Fara..those who diligently monitor our local music scene might have heard about her). I never met her, I knew her through Ogy (Kechik) and how he was captivated by her. And I'm very sure she also knew about me.</div>
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I didn't want to meddle much into Ogy's private life. There are stories that were relayed by Ogy to me but was kept hidden from our family. I guess this is the brotherhood spirit. </div>
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While keeping track of my father's story, I was distracted by a song which kept playing in the background. We do not own a radio, so it must be from the TV. Or was it coming from the phone? </div>
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"<i>Adik (Kechik) balik rumah ka?</i>", I asked my father, because I was almost sure his song/voice was playing in the background.</div>
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"<i>Balik...esok malam ada show kat Kulim. Tapi dia kluaq pi praktis sat,</i>" replied my father, and then he continued berating Fara.</div>
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With my phone still on my ear, I went out of my room and found out the sound was coming from my television. "<b>Bukan Untukku</b>" has been made the soundtrack of <b>Akasia</b>'s (TV3's special slot for romantic drama, aimed primarily at women's audience) new drama.</div>
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There is a story behind this song. So I contacted Ogy (afterwards, after my father finished his call) and he confirmed it. He didn't seem excited, nor did he feel upset either.</div>
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All I can say is, almost 70% of what was being said of him (online) is not true. There are a lot of misconceptions and misinformations flying around in the cyberspace, some without even a tinge of truth in it.</div>
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If given a bit of a time, I'd like to write down everything that really happened to him. Maybe in the foreseeable future.</div>
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Time for dinner. My friends are waiting. </div>
Pancasarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16932091411950895326noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7021040815081940464.post-12449941770758715382017-04-02T22:46:00.001+08:002017-04-02T22:46:39.430+08:00English is Weirdly Fun<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPSoBvmI4ElYS_lpbvUV4wU724yBp-tdlTdvc5rjwi2tfiUzF8sML9FLRXr05YpjwnFczcOMWNVMJX79gtazZWj_EYIoqJo8H78TdTpwf0Ems1PJ0vmsQRlvHEfb2RZYQ_dyf7p6Cqm1Hn/s1600/abp1VD9_700b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="258" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPSoBvmI4ElYS_lpbvUV4wU724yBp-tdlTdvc5rjwi2tfiUzF8sML9FLRXr05YpjwnFczcOMWNVMJX79gtazZWj_EYIoqJo8H78TdTpwf0Ems1PJ0vmsQRlvHEfb2RZYQ_dyf7p6Cqm1Hn/s320/abp1VD9_700b.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
I am down with a mild flu...it strikes at the most inconvenient of times. There's nothing much I could do about it, apart from periodically taking Panadol Soluble to ease my running nose.</div>
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Laughter is the best medicine, so they say. The above sentence is grammatically correct, and it somehow brings a much-needed cheer to my currently dispirited state.</div>
Pancasarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16932091411950895326noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7021040815081940464.post-21474533019500709292017-03-29T23:31:00.001+08:002017-03-30T20:04:36.002+08:00The End of C2 & C4<div style="text-align: justify;">
My beloved C2 and C4 will be eventually sacrificed tomorrow.</div>
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C2 and C4 are my monikers for two of my remaining experimental rats which are still alive. Both of them should be euthanised by the end of January, but I somehow managed to keep them breathing until today.</div>
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Our Quality Assurance (QA) is constantly bombarding me with a barrage of questions regarding the fate of these two little mammals, which I love very dearly. I understand her predicament that we should adhere to our facility's policy at all times, but I just couldn't find the heart to do it.</div>
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Our Study Director (SD) has finally had enough, and he had ordered C2 and C4 to be eliminated tomorrow. I am seriously considering releasing them into the wild...but the consequence is bleak as well...I was told they would meet with an even crueller fate. Being born and bred in lab, they couldn't survive even one day in the wild.</div>
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There's nothing more I could do. Farewell C2 and C4. You two will always be remembered.</div>
Pancasarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16932091411950895326noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7021040815081940464.post-12808913550379504542017-03-26T17:50:00.000+08:002017-03-29T16:39:48.904+08:00The Real Sunday<div style="text-align: justify;">
Today is the real Sunday, as opposed to yesterday's comical confusion. I had a sophisticated delusional sense of time nowadays...as every day seems to be the same day for me (for the moment, I work on weekends...that's why).</div>
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Tomorrow is going to be a hectic day, in fact it's going to be hectic for the whole week as critical phase of our experiment is fast approaching. Despite my tight schedule cramming me up into my office's corner, I managed to squeeze myself out (momentarily) just now to the nearest public library to find some leisure in the company of books.</div>
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There's no better way to free your mind from all the hassle of work than immersing yourself in a sea of books! I returned three books, received RM2.70 fine in return (I was late for nine days), then quickly setting my eyes on the shelf for any interesting book. </div>
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My attention was fixed on one book...based on the title alone, I know it's going to be a good read. In all, I borrowed three books; one touches on the discussion of our religion, one revisits the dilemma faced by Malays, and the last one tells the story of Hang Tuah.</div>
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It's going to be a good read to distract myself from my work, I'm sure of it.</div>
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For movies, this is my updated version, published chronologically.</div>
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Have a good weekend. I'm off to finish my work. Pancasarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16932091411950895326noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7021040815081940464.post-52404398380251782482017-03-25T17:36:00.001+08:002017-03-29T16:47:49.356+08:00Sun-Not Day<div style="text-align: justify;">
It's Sunday, meaning, it should be a sunny day. </div>
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But right across my office's window now, I could see dark clouds gradually clumping together.</div>
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It should start raining anytime soon, I'm afraid. Possibly a storm.</div>
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The weather is extremely unpredictable nowadays...just now, when I went out looking for a new water heater, I was treated with an outrageously blistering heat, enough to fry my outer skin if it were to be left exposed uncovered. </div>
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That's why whenever there was a traffic light ahead, I prayed there would be trees alongside the street...so that I could take a shelter while waiting for the light to turn green.</div>
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My hands are currently tied with endless work...it's tedious and unfeasible, but currently it's the only way to get it done. We still do not possess a working and functional computerised system, so it all should be done manually. By me. Alone.</div>
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Personally, my mind is both fuzzy and numb...thinking about so many things at once. Sometimes I wish I could turn back the clock, un-doing every stupid thing that I've committed.</div>
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But that's not how the world works. The clock will continue clicking...time will continually moving. We are either ahead of time, or time will mercilessly leave us trailing behind.</div>
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It's getting darker, and windier. A windstorm is coming. Hope it will wash away this gloomy mood of mine I'm currently in.<br />
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<b><i>P/S (25/03/2017 5.41 P.M)</i></b><br />
<b><i>Just minutes after posting this, I realised today is actually Saturday, not Sunday. I must have been confused by the raging interchange of the weather. Not in the mood to edit or change the title or content of the post, so I'll leave it as it is, with this Post/Script as the end note. </i></b></div>
Pancasarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16932091411950895326noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7021040815081940464.post-43586889120822283652017-03-19T15:30:00.000+08:002017-03-29T16:38:09.968+08:00Work is Love<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="text-align: justify;"><br /></span>
<span style="text-align: justify;">A stack of unprecedented workload is raining on me nowadays, so I don't have much time on cyberspace, let alone on Pancasara.</span><br />
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But I still try to find time catching up on my readings...because reading and writing are what make me refreshed and feel alive.</div>
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<br /></div>
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My colleagues are having pregnancies at the same time...so I have to cover their workload for the time being. I am surrounded by young and expecting mothers in my workplace, and all of them are expecting their first child. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
So it's quite a bizarre situation when they are discussing their tales of pregnancy, while I'm sitting right next to them, drinking coffee. As long as they are not feeling uncomfortable with it, I'm OK with it.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Many interesting things happened this week...the urge to jot it all down is sky-high, but I have to finish my work first (it's Sunday and I'm here in my office). Life is going well at the moment for me...there are bumps ahead, but I'll try not to think about it. Let's cross the bridge when we are there. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It's no point worrying about problems that you have very limited control of...this piece of wisdom I gathered after watching <b>Passengers</b> yesterday. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
So for the moment, relax and enjoy your work. </div>
Pancasarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16932091411950895326noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7021040815081940464.post-56010612853539113322017-03-12T11:33:00.002+08:002017-03-29T16:38:27.536+08:00Movies<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgboC55UAxFI_q0vonZ8jDQ1y18AJiDCLJynJc3hjEwbhMiMd2kQvROvlmoA4v3lVR4jW_cS_UjyXfhWPDT1BgFdeyX1YIGOP06Vty-KbjVNQnis9slA8E1cwiTJ_DddaUCh8oZ6vGpO4TS/s1600/220px-TheLoneRanger2013Poster.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgboC55UAxFI_q0vonZ8jDQ1y18AJiDCLJynJc3hjEwbhMiMd2kQvROvlmoA4v3lVR4jW_cS_UjyXfhWPDT1BgFdeyX1YIGOP06Vty-KbjVNQnis9slA8E1cwiTJ_DddaUCh8oZ6vGpO4TS/s320/220px-TheLoneRanger2013Poster.jpg" width="215" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOKl9otDFV7yeKEo8mrTm-7lGuFr21gFp4VwBZ4mal1bjp3Y762yx-eECQB4QGn2SMlUmsRiiuLN1lGbFCz8dFbWDYSidL-ldgFhKJWAX_QzFsoHqmkqTtDsmGzqLDNecN6umcilEcBtx4/s1600/wailing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOKl9otDFV7yeKEo8mrTm-7lGuFr21gFp4VwBZ4mal1bjp3Y762yx-eECQB4QGn2SMlUmsRiiuLN1lGbFCz8dFbWDYSidL-ldgFhKJWAX_QzFsoHqmkqTtDsmGzqLDNecN6umcilEcBtx4/s320/wailing.jpg" width="168" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It's been too long since I last updated my movie collections. I rarely had time to enjoy a good viewing nowadays, but whenever that rare opportunity surfaces, I'll give it a good shot.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
This is my stack of recommended movies for viewing pleasures...best enjoyed by those who craved a good story line with sprinkling of actions along the way.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>The Wailing</b> in particular, is packed with heavy stuff. Good and evil are harshly intertwined in this dark tale of horror. The ending will leave viewers with more questions than answers.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I'm off to enjoy my weekend. </div>
Pancasarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16932091411950895326noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7021040815081940464.post-27833939529995254752017-03-11T19:59:00.001+08:002017-03-12T10:56:39.747+08:00Lesson from Ethanol<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;">When helping my colleague to prepare disinfectant
yesterday, I was ridiculed by her for not knowing how to prepare 70% ethanol.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It was not that I was ignorant; it was just a case
of recollection. I last prepared ethanol myself almost two to three years ago
and it had escaped my mind ever since. A little spark would help me refresh my weakened memory.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;">But no, it’s almost a capital sin for asking this
little but significant question. Our custom dictates that it’s better to keep
quiet and remain ignorant rather than opening our mouth and asking this
supposedly silly question.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Throughout my learning years, and I perceive my
whole life as a learning process, I regard knowledge as sacred. Every little
thing that I have little or no information about, I will ask question and did a
light reading. I did not assume something to be true unless after I gleaned a
bit of information relevant to the subject first. Facts are very important to
me and I hold it dear to my heart.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I noticed
nowadays, our so-called experts are reluctant to admit that they were clueless
about certain details pertaining to their subject matters, but they are quick
to condemn other people who commit basic mistakes in subject related to their
expertise.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Admit when you have no information or knowledge
about something; it won’t lower your stature. Don’t deride when somebody is
asking you a seemingly silly question; it won’t elevate your status.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13pt;">Now hold on while I'm preparing my ethanol. </span></div>
Pancasarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16932091411950895326noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7021040815081940464.post-66634508408241374082017-03-10T19:32:00.002+08:002017-03-10T19:32:12.259+08:00Should be at least 95%<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiii3J0NdYxL5Zd3e7PP-ttlPVUGOSX9vzUk8DZL38we2qkkznb4HtcsiFw9gigHV6luoZiOtZD1RGiL4igUiXuVVjW8M3GjyNsKfsqUGQYaKPiL1IuGGIYIJ_s1ctXd_lUr_T5LyRh6Ku/s1600/relanship.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="253" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiii3J0NdYxL5Zd3e7PP-ttlPVUGOSX9vzUk8DZL38we2qkkznb4HtcsiFw9gigHV6luoZiOtZD1RGiL4igUiXuVVjW8M3GjyNsKfsqUGQYaKPiL1IuGGIYIJ_s1ctXd_lUr_T5LyRh6Ku/s320/relanship.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Pancasarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16932091411950895326noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7021040815081940464.post-35539781067070001602017-03-09T23:08:00.000+08:002017-03-29T16:54:26.994+08:00A Better Tomorrow<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Today is a lot of mess.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;">After (shamefully) skipping yesterday’s medical
screening, I reported for work today with much derision.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It was a friendly derision, of course. And I didn’t take
anything of it to the heart. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I had this fear of blood, or blood phobia, a strange
kind of sickness, which greatly affected my chances of becoming a doctor during
my youth (I was offered an interview to becoming a doctor by JPA back in 2003).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I never wanted to become a doctor by the way. I took biology in SPM just for the sake of learning. You were paid to study whatever
subjects you wanted, so why dropped one important subject just because you
wanted to be an engineer?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Biology is a beautiful field, filled with lots of
intriguing truth of life. To sidestep biology is akin to ignore the bountiful
knowledge of life sciences.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I was told I still have to attend the medical check
up...much to my dismay. The last time my blood was withdrawn out of my body was
in 2002, and I almost fainted. I remember one of my classmates looking at me,
horror-struck, to see my face turning very pale. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;">All I know was that I was frightened to death as the
blood was withdrawn from my left hand. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;">That experience of horror still left a
big mark on my memory up to this day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;">For my next experiment, I was required to undergo a
full health screening, complete with Tetanus jab and blood withdrawal.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;">So I could only run...but eventually, the truth
hurts...I’ll have to face the needles.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;">On my way to IPS (Institute of Postgraduate Studies)
of USM, I lost my access card.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;">My faithful plastic card holder was so old that it
tore up at the bottom, resulting in my access card slipping away without me
ever noticing it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I searched the whole place twice without any
meaningful result. It must be fated.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I already paid RM70 for the processing fee...and
then I have to fork out another RM30 for the lost card.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Surely tomorrow will be better.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
Pancasarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16932091411950895326noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7021040815081940464.post-16085281196313647602017-03-08T20:04:00.001+08:002017-03-29T16:38:58.470+08:00Tales From School - Perfume<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i>Written sometime between September and October of 2016, this out of boredom short story is one of my string of essays chronicling my life as a part-time worker in a school's canteen during my sabbatical.</i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i>It was a very enriching three months experience, the one that I would never forget. The rest of the remaining essays would be published periodically, if time permits - Pancasara</i></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Perfume<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It was nearing 10.30 a.m., and I was waiting for the school’s bell to ring. My task was done...I had prepared almost 50 plates of rice for the school’s secondary student. It was surely tiring but I had come to like this work. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The recess hour was preceded by lower secondary (form 1-3) before their seniors (upper secondary, form 4-5) were given permission to eat. A ten minutes <i>cooling period</i> gap was squeezed between the two, acting as a buffer. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Each day, a teacher was tasked to monitor all the students. Usually he/she will carry around a medium-length cane with them, for punishing purpose. Any student who dared to flout the law (e.g. still eating outside recess hour) had the possibility to be canned, although that possibility was slim. A high-pitch yelling from the teacher in charge would usually do the job. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The recess hour was like a refugee’s camp. Students went out all starving as if they had never eaten for years. They cramped the canteen’s selling area, out-muscling each other to get to the food first. Early buyer had the chance to choose the biggest fried chicken, that’s why they fought their way to get to the front.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Usually there were four people staffing the canteen arena...Ciktie, Kak Ani, Fahmi and me. I kept watch of the rice and drink section. I served them whenever they wanted more rice, or when they wanted to buy can/bottle drink.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;">In this particular case, a group of students came to us midway through the recess hour. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13pt;">They came in a group, not a rare phenomenon as students always walked together in groups. There were three to five of them. Not a single one of them said anything other than asking for rice.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;">What struck me as weird was the scent that emanated the area as soon as they approached. It smelled very nice...as if every one of them was wearing a perfume.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Fahmi also noticed this odd occurrence.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“Pasaipa semua wangi? Hangpa nak mengorat Ms Lau ka?” </span></i><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;">he quipped with his usual wit (Ms Lau, the discipline teacher, was usually the subject of ridicule among students, mostly because she was a strict teacher, partly because she was still unmarried at forty).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;">They didn’t respond to Fahmi’s question. They gave a smile and paid the price of the food in <b>complete silence</b>. This further invoked my curiosity. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It was actually a good practice to put on perfume while studying. Imam Malik, one of the four main imams in Islam, was said to put on perfume when he was preaching to his students.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I was thinking, they might be following imam Malik’s lead to better capture what was being taught by their teachers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;">This group of students was our hope for a better future. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It was not after an hour later that I found out the real answer.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Taking a short break after I finished cleaning up the dishes, I headed towards the toilet. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 13pt;">In a turn of event, that same group of students was being reprimanded by a teacher after they were caught red-handed smoking in the toilet.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;">That perfume functioned only as a red herring to cover their act. They were smiling and had finally broken their <b>complete silence</b> earlier after being repeatedly pinched by the male teacher. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 13.0pt; line-height: 115%;">My high hope on them earlier was fast becoming a comedy. But who knows what they might achieve in the future?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
Pancasarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16932091411950895326noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7021040815081940464.post-35998488208395570772017-02-27T21:09:00.002+08:002017-03-29T21:36:47.147+08:00Merbok 2<div style="text-align: justify;">
1. I came back from Terengganu on Tuesday, took EL (Emergency Leave) on Wednesday to fully recover from fatigue, and back to work on Thursday.</div>
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2. On Friday, I was again back on the road...this time for a much-awaited research expedition to Merbok.</div>
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3. I first came to Merbok in 2000, during a school trip. We visited Lembah Bujang. As a 15-year-old then, I was swept away by the sight of old monuments (<i>candi</i>) scattering across the area up to the top of the hill.</div>
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4. I made a promise (then) to come back to that area when I was older. That promise was realised last year.</div>
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5. I followed the first (Merbok) expedition last year on the back of an outsider's ticket. Fakhrul had a freak accident, injured his elbow and was unable to lift heavy materials. I was roped in to help with his project.</div>
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6. It was among the best decisions I'd ever made throughout my life. The expedition was a success, and I'd absorbed a great deal of experience over the entire course of the trip. A packed schedule refrains me from putting all of it into words ever since; but in due time, I will.</div>
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7. So it's the same case for Merbok 2...I still couldn't find the much needed time to properly put all that priceless experience into words yet. But in due time, I will. </div>
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8. So for the time being, I'll just share this beautifully set-up net for insect trapping, which was erected just outside our lodging. I don't know why but this picture is so pleasing to my eyes.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMa-S7e36VNqBM3PWi606TlmNll5KGMG4OyrxMZVPzM-vamKfjlec1JytIxpbNeSKjJte7QUsQXkjGXLHIQNV0-YJRfpAkmgTX7aM7nOVOER_ibm-Ys3w784FJrqZymdj9GvFIO7rTnrT0/s1600/20170224190810.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMa-S7e36VNqBM3PWi606TlmNll5KGMG4OyrxMZVPzM-vamKfjlec1JytIxpbNeSKjJte7QUsQXkjGXLHIQNV0-YJRfpAkmgTX7aM7nOVOER_ibm-Ys3w784FJrqZymdj9GvFIO7rTnrT0/s320/20170224190810.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
9. So, until then.Pancasarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16932091411950895326noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7021040815081940464.post-38856221570079420522017-02-23T22:11:00.003+08:002017-02-23T22:12:31.121+08:00Father Knows Best<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjisfomL3qnbOxUeBybKaQxew8c0vzIE_61FwhwK9wHdkljI0Yai6ho1Ee3iAfu36mknf5fSvvriiJnCzV9hgmwauXY3szUYCqKwtKS57VirYbF_tYSRgvwuTsR-XC3e77CG1bQBM0n9yZc/s1600/marriage.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjisfomL3qnbOxUeBybKaQxew8c0vzIE_61FwhwK9wHdkljI0Yai6ho1Ee3iAfu36mknf5fSvvriiJnCzV9hgmwauXY3szUYCqKwtKS57VirYbF_tYSRgvwuTsR-XC3e77CG1bQBM0n9yZc/s320/marriage.png" width="320" /></a></div>
Pancasarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16932091411950895326noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7021040815081940464.post-66728702098934113212017-02-22T23:48:00.002+08:002017-03-29T21:41:11.877+08:00Kuala Terengganu<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyE9DV7EnHb7g0Q3wMgJKFTvO97gx-zmLT-I-1CZqf26J1unvP47J9W_BzUB5Rvb2bc9tPRrHWAS06R88GuCkHCttx2tTOhdqTe-QBQzrvBY-uxwhDPEbSB8rdkQ3dD4EBtBn9n7iBWoCx/s1600/20170219145548.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyE9DV7EnHb7g0Q3wMgJKFTvO97gx-zmLT-I-1CZqf26J1unvP47J9W_BzUB5Rvb2bc9tPRrHWAS06R88GuCkHCttx2tTOhdqTe-QBQzrvBY-uxwhDPEbSB8rdkQ3dD4EBtBn9n7iBWoCx/s320/20170219145548.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>The Crystal Mosque of Kuala Terengganu. This is my second visit here, the first being on April 11, 2015. </b></span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>How time really flies.</b></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I arrived from the east coast late night yesterday. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Heavy windstorm greeted me while I was in Grik, and it chased me all the way to Kulim and Penang.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Maybe the dark clouds were never tired of crowning over my head.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">As if, they were enjoying chasing me ever since.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Even when I kept running, they never failed to locate me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It was a weird four-day hiatus in Kuala Terengganu.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I was very happy there...with my friends, basking in the sunlight of the east coast, moving here and there looking for tasty food, watching people all around.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Laughing together.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">But it was the person that I wanted to meet the most that ripped my heart apart.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I knew she was there...but with no news, a cut off communication, and a bizarre silence, I couldn’t comprehend her real intention behind her course of action.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Curiosity kills the cat.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Un-explanation kills me. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">A hurtful explanation is always better than a complete silence.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">That’s why I always left people in black or white...not grey.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">At least...to the people who I cared the most. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It was literally the end of a chapter for me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Was it a failure?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Yes but no.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Was it a success?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">No but yes.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I can’t answer that question specifically...because the answer depends.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">It depends on how you define “success” or “failure”.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">But deep inside, I know I’ve done all that I could.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">So in the future, when my older self questions me,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“It could have been...”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I could reply to him, </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">“It was never a could have been...I did all I could”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I still have friends in Penang...but the one friend that I lost over the east coast, was the most definitive.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , "serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">She may have gone, but the memories will remain.</span></div>
Pancasarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16932091411950895326noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7021040815081940464.post-66188662733692990012017-02-15T00:05:00.002+08:002017-03-29T21:46:22.926+08:00Skills vs Stamina, Which Comes First?<div style="text-align: justify;">
I did a very simple experiment these past few months...to determine the single most important aspect in squash.</div>
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Some say squash is the most demanding sports in the world in terms of fitness. High level of fitness is greatly required to properly play this fantastic game.</div>
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I had doubt about this claim, although I admit fitness/stamina is crucial towards how far a player can move up the rank in squash.</div>
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I placed more importance on finesse, because to me, squash is about technique. I remember, during my younger days, watching in awe how (King) Kenny of Malacca beautifully control the ball and made his opponent move like a headless chicken around the court.</div>
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Kenny was the man who inspired me to take up squash seriously. I met him before I knew Fahmi, another squash's gem from Malacca. These two were the biggest impact that influenced my early life.</div>
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I had been playing squash without the aid of stamina last year (played one week, rested three weeks, played again, rested another month). The result was humiliating...I lost even to the young player who took up squash just recently.</div>
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So I tried a new formula...build up my fitness before I hold squash racquet again, by concentrating on badminton.</div>
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I played two to three times a week (badminton), sometimes until my body told me to stop. I also played ping pong sparingly (at least once a week) and watched my food intake. I tried regulating my sleep pattern to ensure that I sleep around the same time every night.</div>
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After a month and a half, today I picked up squash racquet and headed towards the court. I'm fairly confident that my level of fitness has arisen significantly, although the same could not be said of my skills. Skills and techniques improve and rot in tandem with practice...if you didn't practise, your skills and techniques will surely deteriorate with the passing of time. </div>
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I played against Cyrus and comfortably won, which was strange. I used to struggle against him, but not this time. We played a total of five games, and I won all.</div>
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Next was Megat, my long-time friend when off court, but arch-enemy when inside court. Megat is now a coach for Penang under-12 category. I never beat Megat before, and this trend seemed to continue when I went down the first two sets against him.</div>
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But something strange was happening, as the match went on, I felt more and more comfortable moving around the court. As the match progressed, his point lead was narrowing, and I won the third set after levelling the score.</div>
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I strongly believed this miracle has something to do with my fitness level. I used to think fitness is second after finesse, but now after this experience, I think fitness is more important than finesse, at least in squash.</div>
Pancasarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16932091411950895326noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7021040815081940464.post-13544754273571483112017-02-13T21:54:00.008+08:002017-03-29T21:46:59.846+08:00Where are the Women?<blockquote class="tr_bq">
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<b><span style="background-color: white; color: blue; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-style: italic; line-height: 28.8278px;">"Romeo died for love, Valentine died for love, Jack of Titanic, Samson from the Bible, Hercules, Achilles, and even Jesus died for love"</span></span></b></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-style: italic; line-height: 28.8278px;"><b><span style="color: blue; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Where are the women?</span></b></span></div>
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As tomorrow is Valentine's Day, this amusing anecdote is again gaining momentum in the cyberspace.</div>
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I first read it last year, mentioned and elaborated passionately by a female editor of our local daily English newspaper.</div>
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She tried (a bit) hard to expose the fallacy of this passage, but in the end, she must have realised that there is no fallacy in the above statement...</div>
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...because it is entirely true (apart from Jesus, where we Muslims have different interpretation about his final moment on earth). </div>
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Women always cry foul that they sacrificed a lot for love, but the truth is, as was proven time and time again over the course of history, men sacrificed a lot more than women.</div>
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Men even died for the women they love.</div>
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I do not celebrate Valentine's Day, but for one (especially women), just take a moment to appreciate men around you. </div>
Pancasarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16932091411950895326noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7021040815081940464.post-16355788539746150612017-02-05T17:24:00.000+08:002017-03-29T21:48:35.239+08:00Time is Important; Facts are Sacred<div style="text-align: justify;">
I'm seriously considering elaborating my last post (The Last Lecture) into a full-length article, but time is of a concern. </div>
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Nowadays, I rarely had time to do any extra reading on subjects related to my work, let alone putting down a complete write-up of a farewell speech, even though its message was overwhelming and its relevance was far-reaching.</div>
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For now, I'm just concentrating on my work, trying to stay on course on my work's schedule. I was given much leeway now compared to the yesteryear.</div>
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Out of boredom, I read a posting by a facebook page called <b>PseudoScience Watch</b>, in which they tried to expose a scam purportedly committed by a researcher.</div>
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What <b>PseudoScience Watch</b> intended to achieve was noble; they tried to expose the scammer. But in so doing, they inadvertently committed a grave mistake - they mixed up their facts.</div>
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First, they claimed a supervisor shall be the first writer in every journal's article, not the student. This is blatantly not true as it is a common practice for a post-graduate student to be the first author, with his or her supervisor as the corresponding author.</div>
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<strike>Second, they had the audacity to claim that only a certified medical doctor could conduct a medical-related research</strike> (<u><i>P/S: This comment was made by a commentator, not admin</i></u>). Visit any research institution related to medical/healthcare or any pharmaceutical company, hardly any medical doctor is stationed there. Most of the researches are conducted by chemists/biologists or even pharmacists.</div>
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Two of well-known examples are <b>INFORMM</b> (Institute For Research in Molecular Medicine) in USM and <b>IPHARM</b> (Malaysian Institute of Pharmaceuticals and Nutraceuticals). Not even one medical doctor is currently working there, yet these two institutions are actively conducting research related to medicine/vaccine/drug.</div>
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<b>PseudoScience Watch</b> is a good page, but their young admins need to refrain themselves from talking about subject that they knew very little about. Facts are very sacred nowadays; once you lose your credibility, it's hard to get it back.<br />
<u><br /></u> <u><i>Correction 13/2/2017</i></u><br />
<i>I was made to understand that the second claim was made by a commentator, not the admin. For this, I apologise and have made necessary correction, although I left the accompanying comments for clarification purposes. </i><br />
<i><br /></i> <i>The real comment by the admin was "only a certified medical doctor could prescribe drug to combat diseases in human body", which is factually correct.</i></div>
Pancasarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16932091411950895326noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7021040815081940464.post-21863985391557398452017-01-26T23:06:00.000+08:002017-03-29T21:51:17.308+08:00The Last Lecture<div style="text-align: justify;">
A month has passed since my last progress report presentation.</div>
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I woke up early today, in order to finish up my presentation's slide. I laid out the draft of my slide early yesterday's night, before leaving it unfinished to attend my weekly badminton's session.</div>
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There was nothing to present actually, as I had just completed my study. I summarised what I'd done for the last two weeks in a very basic slide. </div>
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The prime focus this time was on what our ED (Executive Director) had to say. If everything went as planned, this was to be his final session as the top person in the institute.</div>
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I wished I could write down (here) everything that was delivered by our ED in his (apparent) final speech, but we were forewarned in an e-mail earlier this week to be careful of what we wrote in cyberspace.</div>
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<i>"Once on the internet, it will stay in it forever"</i> was the gist of the e-mail's message.</div>
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Although it was not directed specifically towards me, I felt the need to abide by the advice, more so as Ipharm was planning to make full use of social media in the very near future to solidify its position.</div>
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There was no question from the audience when I wrapped up my presentation, but ED and my current Division Director stopped me halfway as I was leaving the presentation's area.</div>
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ED asked me some familiar questions (to which I'd already answered, as recently as yesterday). I was fully aware that he was still not fully satisfied with my earlier explanation (not his fault as I withheld certain information from him).</div>
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The next ten days would be very crucial as we wait for the final confirmation from the ministry. The minister in charge holds all the card. </div>
Pancasarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16932091411950895326noreply@blogger.com