Fly! You fools...

I was around Bangsar Vilage mall last Saturday and on my way out, I saw a fascinating model of Malaysia Airlines’ aircraft. I took many pictures, too many perhaps that one mall staff told me that they don’t allow photography in the mall.

I said “Oh, ok” and quickly got out of there before he could tell me anything else, like, he needed to see what I took, or I needed to delete the photos in view of security.

But the large model was beautiful. I took many angles. It showed some parts of the interior, the new flagship, the sleeping cabin. Perhaps it’s also telling that the airlines’ business operation is more transparent now since it is trying to recover the huge losses it suffered, beyond expectation.

Or perhaps it is and indication of cost saving reforms, by using cheaper materials, like, oh I don’t know, plastic and glass maybe.

Or a new dimension in flying experience – a new revolution in aviation technology that allows the fuselage to look transparent. Their motto is ‘Going Beyond Expectations’ after all and that’s just what they are doing to attract more passengers.

Take a hint, any hint!

“Erh, Agus dear, I think the medication didn’t work coz I’m seeing things again. The wall seems to be getting thinner...”

“Oh, it’s okay grandma, there’s nothing wrong with your medication. It’s the new technology they have, I think....”

An intimacy lost

I knew I needed a companion for a long time. But when I saw you I just had to have you. So I was very excited when you came home with me.

I brought you straight to my bedroom and looked at you with anticipation. I helped you get dressed and ready for bed. There we lay together, side by side and almost instantly I grabbed hold of you. My arms cling tight to you, like I’d never let go.

You were mine to hold when I sleep. You provided completeness and warmth to my embrace. You filled the void between my legs. You were more than my pure cotton bolster.

But when I start to doze off I needed you less and less. I find you occupy this already limited space. I don’t even care if you’re neither here nor there. All I wanted is a sleep that’s fair.

And now when I go to bed you’re already there. Sometimes I need you, sometimes I don’t. I don’t even know why I still have you near. Coz what we have is an intimacy lost.

The Rainbow Connection

It has been sung by Kenny Loggins, The Carpenters and Kermit the Frog, yes, Kermit the frog.

Now, sing along to this beautiful rendition of,

The RAINBOW Connection
by Sarah McLachlan.

....Why are there so many
songs about rainbows
and what's on the other side?

Rainbows are visions,
but only illusions,
and rainbows have nothing to hide

So we've been told and some choose to believe it
I know they're wrong, wait and see
Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection
The lovers, the dreamers and me

Who said that every wish
would be heard and answered
when wished on the morning star?

Somebody thought of that
and someone believed it
Look what it's done so far

What's so amazing that keeps us star gazing
and what do we think we might see?
Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection
The lovers, the dreamers and me

All of us under its spell
We know that it's probably magic

Have you been half asleep
and have you heard voices?
Coz I've heard them calling my name
Is this the sweet sound
that calls the young sailors
The voice might be one and the same

I've heard it too many times to ignore it
It's something that I'm supposed to be
Someday we'll find it, the rainbow connection
The lovers, the dreamers and me

La Dida Di Didada Dadidida La Didadi....

Ecstatic!

I was introduced to electrostatic discharge in seventh grade science class. As a child in a hot and humid climate, this fact was rather strange and amusing and I always wondered how it was like to experience it. I didn’t live in an air conditioned home and somehow I never get shocks from my dad’s car back then. Maybe it was just not time for me to experience it.

How things have changed.

I now know that electrostatic discharges are shockingly painful. They give a sudden prick, like a needle and cause the heart to race.

I gather static charge in the office, in the mall, while driving and even while walking outdoors.

My office has cubicles with aluminum frames and they are at my chest level. And my early working life was greeted with a shock. While busy walking around to get work done, I was zapped at my left nipple, or was it my right. The point is, that was an unforgettable first hand experience, or first nipple experience, if I may. Now, I constantly discharge at electrical appliances like the copier, refrigerator and metal frames out of fear. But I still do get nasty shocks at these very things whenever I let my guard down. Real nasty. And once in a while my colleagues get their share too. Sometimes we get zapped so bad that almost everyone at work actually hears the sharp click sound.

Similarly, walking around in the mall is not like a walk in the park for me as I have to keep my distance from people passing by and if I have to be in close contact with metal objects, I always make sure that I touch them with my palm in one decisive and crude motion. I ‘discharge’ whenever I get the opportunity because I cannot tell the amount of electrostatic that is building up in me.

I give friends shocks when I have no intention to and this always startles them, their eyes widens and they cry ‘Ouch!’. It’s like doing the hand shake prank. Sometimes a pat in the back ends up more than that. I once gave two friends the shock within one minute interval. One experienced the shock while walking as our fingers touched. I explained this phenomenon to them and the other asked how it was triggered. As I demonstrated to her and said ‘like this’, she got exactly what she was looking for, a shock.

I know this happens to almost everybody but few friends have the tendency like I do, I think. One friend shares this excessive charge up quality. He was cautious when we shook hands during a long anticipated reunion at a mall and when I asked ‘static?’ he chuckled and we both laughed. We amused each other with every electric experience we ever had.

A young cousin also told me that he is afraid of walking in a crowded mall where there is a tendency of slight touches. I asked him why and he said he gets sharp and painful ‘electric current’. I taught him to discharge whenever he gets the opportunity.

Is there any way that we can harness this and be special? Somehow I think there is more to this than just a painful shock.

Learn more

Firewall

I had a chance to catch firewall last Friday evening. There were other movies screening and many suited my comedy and feel good palate; Pink Panther, Big Momma’s House and Fun with Dick and Jane. But my friend was well into computer data encryption and security, so it made perfect sense to sit through Firewall. Plus, he paid for the ticket, bless him.

I’m not going to attempt a detailed review simply because I’m not good at it. Besides, you’ll find loads of professional reviews if you just Google. This post allows me to express how I felt and think about it.

I had reservations about this movie initially because I thought it will be too technical. And since I am no geek, I will not be able to appreciate the essence of the movie. But I thought wrong. The plot was easy. Mark the chief bank security, take his family hostage and threaten to harm them unless he helps steal millions from customers’ accounts.

But sitting through the movie wasn’t exactly relaxing. Don’t get me wrong. I love the movie. But the gripping scenes and desperate escape attempts made me so tense my hands clamped the armrest. The evilness just got greater by the minute. Escape seemed impossible and crime appears to be paying a hefty lot!

I also had a full bladder that could burst an hour before the movie ended but I wanted to finish the movie so bad that the only thing I could do was tell my friend that I really have to pee, twice! Heck, the lower abdominal pain was almost unbearable but I didn’t want to miss a second of the show. So I painfully sit very tight!

It was also freakin’ freezing in the hall. The TGV Cineplex in KLCC has a reputation of having the lowest temperature and most people wear thick clothes or a sweater. Under normal circumstances, it should be bearable but with a full bladder, it was torture!

Concentrating on the show took more effort than it should.

Although I exclaimed “That was sooo good!” in the end, and sport a wide satisfied smile, there were some aspects that I thought needed work. I sensed little family chemistry and the bond was weakly portrayed. The fight scenes in the end came to a rather abrupt halt. After all the villain did to Ford and his family, I expected major revenge works; something that could give the villain excruciating pain, physically and emotionally. Instead, a quick and deep stab in the back was all there is to it. Sorry folks, I kinda gave away the ending but don’t most movies have a happy ending?

Having said all that, I liked the movie a lot and I certainly recommend it. It is grippingly fun! A movie well worth the ticket and time.

Remember ‘Air Force One’? This is another classic Harrison Ford material.

Duck taped

The sands of time

Nature is beautiful, no doubt, but every single element in nature serves a critical purpose for the survival of this earth and the species that call it home. The link between the components that make an ecosystem is strong but the bond is weak. A minor tweak in the system can cause havoc and even catastrophe.

Just as nature needs its elements and resources to maintain that balance, we humans have found many ways of harnessing and using them for our very survival and everyday life. Some are more prominent than others and are immediately identified to certain industries even by people of different industrial background. Take the minerals and the mining industry; hydrocarbons, valuable stones and metals. Some however, are so common and ever present in our day to day chores that we often do not notice its usefulness. Enter sand.

We see sand everywhere. It follows us home, sticking to our shoes and vehicle tyres. We sweep it under the carpet. We get it in our eyes. We link infertile land and the desert with sand. We also link beautiful beaches and fun sports with sand. It is so abundant that we take it for granted. But can we live without sand, granted that nature has no use for it?

No.

And I bet you already know about these facts I extracted from Wikipedia.

Quote:

“Sand is often a principal component of the aggregate used in the preparation of concrete. Sand manufactured at rock crusher plants for use as an aggregate is called mansand. Graded sand is used as an abrasive in sandblasting and is also used in media filters for filtering water.

Brick manufacturing plants use sand as an additive with a mixture of clay and other materials for manufacturing bricks. Sand is also sometimes mixed with paint to create a textured finish for walls and ceilings or a non-slip surface.

Sandy soils are ideal for certain crops such as watermelons, peaches, and peanuts and are often preferred for intensive dairy farming because of their excellent drainage characteristics.
Sand is used in landscaping (Landscape engineering), it is added to make smeal hills and slopes (eg: Making golf corses).

Sand is the principal component in glass manufacturing.
Sandbags are used for protection against floods and gun fire. They can be easily transported when empty, and filled with local sand.

People, especially children, love to play with sand on a beach or in a sandpit. Sometimes they build sand castles. See sand art and play for details ”

Unquote.


There, like it’s physical property, a grain of sand means nothing to most of us but a pile or a mountain of sand goes a long way. Similarly, a collection of different types of sand and their multiple uses is certainly impressive and it makes us realize that we need sand more than we know. We also need to be wary of the movement of sand around us, naturally or artificially.

The white sand at Miri's esplanade.

Things change

Monkeys at Spinning Top Hill

See the monkeys roaming the grounds of Bukit Gasing.


Bottom's up mate!

Just lazing around.

This one climbed to the beams above to view me from a parallel perspective. Or was he just posing behind bars.

Mother and child.

Monkey tree.

Monkeys in their branch office.

The hand that feed the monkey.

Gasing Hill

Yesterday evening I headed out to explore the only surviving patch of green lung in Kuala Lumpur, an area surrounding a hill called Bukit Gasing (Gasing=Spinning top). I’ve been wanting to get there for a while since it is located in my backyard, relatively. Each time I drive back home from work I see the hill top which is adorned with a communication tower. And each time it made me wonder when I would get my lazy butt there.

So I drove on, guessing which junction will eventually lead to the top of the ‘spinning top’ hill. A road didn’t exactly lead me there but to an Iban and a bidayuh family looking for tapioca buds, a delicacy and very much my favourite native dish. They were puzzled to see me stopping behind their cars.

“You guys going for a picnic? Is there some kind of a river or picnic ground here?” I asked.

“No, we’re looking for tapioca buds. Picnic? River? No, there’s no such place here. You’ll have better luck in Ulu Yam.” The bidayuh lady told me.

"Where are you from?" she asked.

"KL, I'm from Sarawak actually" I replied.

"We're from Sarawak as well. I'm Bidayuh. The rest are Iban." she explained.

Well, what are the odds? But they are looking for native tapioca buds after all, so that figures.

"I'm bidayuh as well!" I told her delightfully.

“But the Bukit Gasing top is somewhere here right?” I asked again.

“Yeah, this is bukit gasing. It’s at the end of the other junction.” she said.

“Oh ok. . .Tapioca buds eh. I’ll just hang around a while with you guys here.”

So I watched as some of them picked bundles of tapioca buds. This reminds me of my family back home, long ago. My mum would bring us to some patch of land overgrown with healthy tapioca plants and sometimes luscious wild ferns, also a delicacy. If we were lucky, there would be large tapioca roots to be plucked off the ground. Great for tea time I tell you!

I didn’t know why I lingered. I guess it was interesting to watch something I used to experience as a child. And to have this in KL is something I don't see every day. I got to know them a little better too that way. After a long while they said they’re going to the hill for a view, and to see monkeys.

Monkeys?! Splendid!

The wait was worth while. I got to enjoy the view with a friendly new family I just met.

Partial views of Kuala Lumpur.

Too bad the air was hazy, otherwise it would have been magnificent.

ET phone home...

Monkeys?! Yeah, and they are many. Another day, another entry, another monkey...watch this space.

The day didn't end there, fortunately for me. With the delicious tapioca bud dish in my mind, guess what I said when they said I could follow them home. "So you'll know the way when you visit us in the future" they said.

"Future! Uhm, that's good too, but a traditional meal opportunity is something I must not miss right now!" I thought.

Yeah, I hear you. "You and your tummy!" you say.

Some of these days it's gonna land me in trouble, but not yesterday. Dinner was as traditional as it can get. Stir fried pounded tapioca leaves and buds, chicken soup of preserved durian paste or 'tempoyak', stir fried young jackfruit and a spicy salad of scraped cucumber; all locked and loaded Bidayuh style! But a picture or two during dinner might not be a good idea, I thought then. They might not be so familiar with a blogger's obsession. So my camera sat on the tv all night, till I went home at midnight.

Midnight? Hey, what is a polite guest to do when his hosts seem to enjoy his company and repeatedly tell him to stay a while?

He stays a while! A long while.

Besides, a hit and run is a punishable offence.

No espresso mi amor?

It has been several weeks since I cranked up my espresso machine. And I only went to cafés once or twice a week lately. Maybe it’s the work load, reaching home just in time for dinner and few hours of tv. By the time I needed my espresso desert, it was too near bed time. Having coffee then would reduce my sleeping hours. You see, the boss gave a word or two about punctuality to the staff and I’m in the process of adjusting, with frustrating result. It is so painful to wake up in the cozy morning and walk away from the warm hug of my bed and the silky touch of my blanket. And when I do, there are always incidents on the road which makes the bad traffic worse and I have to consider setting my alarm to beep earlier. I mean, how early do I have to wake up?

I guess I’ll just have to keep on trying until my system gets used to it. Meanwhile, the closest caffeine shot I get is from a pack of Nescafe 3 in 1 in half a cup of hot water, almost every morning at work. And last night, as I was pondering this point, I took out my Coffex Superbar Espresso and did some art. Sniffing doesn’t affect sleep, does it?

~How do you...?~

~Bean Laden~

Joke of the day: “A man went to his psychiatrist and said, "Every time I drink my coffee, I get a stabbing pain in my right eye," the psychiatrist said, "well, have you tried taking the spoon out?"

~Scarry smile~

You can take away the coffee, but you can't get me away from it.

Google Earth

This is my current fancy. Google Earth. I know this piece of news is so last year but I've only considered getting into it several weeks back. That was after my 16 year old cousin told me to check it out; he said it is fascinating.

Well, it is true. Simply mind blowing. Satelite pictures showing startling images of every place imaginable. Some are more detailed than others as high resolution data is available. And Kuala Lumpur is shown in its full glory. Look!

Even cars can be seen individually!

Sadly, some places are not available in high resolution and this is the most detail satelite picture of Miri. Zoom any closer and you'll get a blurry image.

So, if you have that extra minutes and hours to spare (judging by your presence here, you do have a lot!), download the application and be amazed. It takes a while to get the hang of it.

Or have you...?

Gosh, I'm so yesterday!

Happy Valentine's Day, Whatever Your Reason

Love is in the air, more than ever, again. Only a baby wouldn’t notice the rousing atmosphere. Flowers abound, chocolate and candies distributed around and valentine cards are harder to be found. Everywhere you look there are eye catching promotional banners, posters and commercials to lure couples in love.

Well, animals wouldn’t know about this day too. They may notice the festivity in the air but will never understand the meaning. Then again, why should they. They have it wild and raw; anytime anywhere, most of the times in the mating season, and sometimes for no apparent reason.

Many things have been said and they are repeated every year as this day approaches. And I’m not only talking about ‘I love you’, ‘My love’, ‘Happy Valentine’s Day’ and such. True, love sparks and the flame burns bright as ever but relationships also break and poor souls are left loveless before, on or after this day. Think of all the possibilities that can happen because of this day. And for some, this is just another dreaded lonely day, when every single friend is out on a romantic date. A day when curfew begins around 6 to 9; when no one should be seen alone or suffer the embarrassment and pity, though I’m sure no one really cares.

What is a lonely person to do on this day? Plenty! One should start by realizing that the key word is LOVE. Nobody to love, one asks? How about oneself? That’s right. Treat yourself with a nice home cooked dinner, simple or elaborate, make sure it’s great. Order delivery, whatever your heart fancy. After that pamper yourself with all the things you love to do and can do alone. Watch feel good movies and sitcom reruns. Read, anything but steer away from romance. Oh, the possibility is endless. And before you know it, it’s time for bed.

“Who says I’m lonely? Why, I’m with myself, that’s a load of fun and love”

“I’m spending a nice quality time with my family member(s). They’re everything to me, especially today.”

“I’ll be healing at home”

etc...etc...

There are many reasons to make this day special.

I know how some people say that love celebrated on a single day makes no sense and should be expressed every single day, but we need to break away from the routine at least one a year. And what about those who often take things for granted. Today is a good reminder. Not to get drowned in the over commercialization and overspending, but to cherish, love and appreciate the persons we have around us, who steers and impacts our lives profoundly.

I know how some relate Valentine’s Day with Christianity and those of other beliefs warns of faith derailment which consequently leads to losing one’s religion, but there are 360 degrees of angles to view and an endless context. Choose one that fits your mould best. And if that won’t do, I respect that and will not contest. Happy Valentine’s day to the rest.

Spot 344

Yes! I've joined the bandwagon. I'm on spot 344 of the One thousand bloggers collage. It is free(last time I checked). It could be fun(I cannot wait). It is my car registration number!(I couldn't resist). Go check it out if you haven't already.

Rhyme and dine

I made dinner last night
It was delicious alright

A thick rectangle crust
I Proudly made from scratch
I sprinkled olive oil, oregano, onion and garlic
And baked it so the bits and flavor would stick

Pasta sauce I used because it’s quick
Sausage and chopped parsley I evenly mixed
Cheddar, mozzarella and romano
Three cheeses to make it Italiano!

I placed dozens of juicy smoked bacon
For that smoky taste and rustic complexion
More olive oil and salt completed my composition
Curious and hungry, I slid it straight into the oven

As soon as my pizza came out

I was very pleased with the result

The toppings are nothing to shout about

But to me it more than makes the cut

With a friend I shared dinner

And although he had eaten earlier

He was more than happy to have supper

So naturally I had the whole three quarter
Har har...

Choc-a-cinn rolls anyone?

I made these chocolate cinnamon rolls two weekends back and they came out okay. I didn’t have raisins and didn’t want to use so much sugar so they weren’t sweet enough. So, for that sinful taste, I spread and stuffed more hazelnut chocolate spread. Yeah, I know, I ended up munching a generous amount of sugar and fat all the same.

Much to my delight, these rolls are not that difficult to make as long as you have the right stuff. I just followed the instructions for the recipe and out they came, rolling out of the oven and into my tummy. Yummy. The ambience at home then was like a bakery. Nothing like the smell of fresh baked bread lingering for hours, right at home. Top it up with the aroma of fresh brewed coffee and you're near heaven. And the feeling that you get when you know you baked right, priceless.

Shortchanged

I went to a supermarket in Suria KLCC yesterday evening to get RM10 notes for a RM50 change. I bought some stuff under RM5 and hastily put the change in my wallet. Then I went to the nearby bakery to get my favorite Portuguese egg tart. After that I went to the bank, deposited some cash and checked what balance I had left in my wallet. After much calculation, I ended up RM10 short. WTF! That cashier shortchanged me by 10 bucks! I got frustrated and ended up very upset as I know it is impossible to get my change back long after leaving the counter. Most of all, I am angry with myself for letting this happen. It cost me 10 bucks to be careless with the cashier. There are many ways for one to lose a 10 and letting the cashier take it is not one of them!

All the way back to the office, feeling sad, I thought of ways that I could get my money back and most of them suggested shoplifting. Relax, that's not going to happen. Or I could buy items on promotion and save that much as opposed to normal priced purchase. Or I could curse the cashier to sack and the supermarket to go bankrupt, maybe get caught and get boycotted. Or I could let it all go and forget about everything. Hope that whatever unaccounted profit they get would go to charity. Accidental donation is a good deed nonetheless. And that was where I left it at. I got home and soon after forgot about my misfortune. Then the 8 o’clock news came on TV3 and the first bulletin made me sad again.

Say what?

Clock...
In a small shop selling clocks, my sister, brother in law and I was looking at the many selections of wall clocks on display when the wife of the shop owner came along and asked “are you looking for a clock?”

My brother in law said “Yes, but we’re just looking around for something we might like.”
Duh?! Why else would we be there

Try, “Uh, no, we’re just admiring the wall that’s painted white” . Of course no one said that. It didn't come out as quick, and we were being polite.
_______________________________

Fasting...
I was at the check out counter paying for a can of beer during the fasting month. The cashier was a Muslim lady.

Cashier, “You’re not fasting are you?”

I shook my head and said no. How bizarre!

Try “ Uhm, I’m not sure…let me check my I.D. Hmmm, well, I don’t have a Muslim name. And blimey, I’m about to buy a can of beer, which I’m thinking of drinking right after I’ve paid for it! I guess I’m not fasting after all.” But naturally I didn't say it. I was struck dumb.

I mean no religious disrespect and I know she only has good intentions but how hard can the math be?
____________________________

Cigarette...
A friend took out a self rolling cigarette contraption. It is a device for a smoker lay the paper on a guided roller, align the tobacco after the filter, close the lid and viola, you get a freshly rolled cigarette.

“How does the edge stick?” I asked.

“The edge is made like a stamp; you lick it before you close the lid.” explained my friend.

“And the adhesive is not toxic?” came my stupid question.

“Of course not. Besides, smoking is already toxic, no point worrying about the adhesive.”
_____________________________

Solitude...
Question: What do you get when you ask “what are you doing?” to a friend who is reading a novel entitled ‘a hundred years of solitude’?

Answer: “Isn’t it obvious? I need privacy for the next 100 years….”

But of course the novel is not about seclusion and it does not take that long to digest. This is just my dumb assumption to a careless observation. Ass,u,me? No....
_____________________________

Iced Lemon Tea...
My friend, Terrence and I were ordering our drinks at a coffee shop during tea break. Taking our orders was this petite young lady, a small girl perhaps. She spoke with an Indonesian accent and looked so young that the whole thing could be doubly illegal.

Anyway, I ordered coffee and Terrence ordered iced lemon tea and we continued our conversation. As she jotted our orders down she faintly asked a question. We didn’t hear her the first time and asked her to repeat her question.
“S’juk kah?” she said.

Again we couldn’t get what she was saying so Terrence politely asked her to repeat herself.

Looking at him, she repeated “Itu ice lemon tea, mau sejuk kah? (Translated : That iced lemon tea, you want it cold?)”

Utterly bewildered, Terrence and I looked at each other and grinned wildly.

“Uhm yah! Sejuk” he said and she left.

We couldn’t stand it! It was outrageously funny! Could you get it any other way? A hot iced lemon tea maybe? Does the word ice mean anything? We knew she was young but she couldn’t have been born just yesterday?

This little incident amuses us till this day! We crack up every time we revisit the tale.

Out of body: Part 3/3: About life...

Continued from Part 2/3: Alcohol and blood

I slept like a rooster eager to crow at the sight of sunrise. And considering the grave situation thrown at me, I was indeed waiting for the morning to mature. How I long to be relieved of the duty I was reluctantly assigned; when I could finally get some proper sleep. I squinted at the wall clock and saw that it was 5am. ‘People are going to wake up late today’ I sighed.

I was not sure how long I must have dozed off and how grandpa was doing, but I was so glad that morning had finally come. The sound of trickling water from the shower and the bathroom door opening woke me up. Still lying in bed, I glanced toward the washroom and saw my sister walking out. I got up and walked toward the washroom to clean up for a proper bed time. But something did not feel right. All the more strange when I thought I saw a figure on the bed where I had lay, from the corner of my left eye.

I turned around and saw that there was someone lying there. A male about my age and size, wearing only white shorts, and was sound asleep. He was flat on his back, both arms straight on his sides. I froze. I was too shocked to move and take a closer look, No explanation came to me except that the person lying there was myself, my own body! What the hell am I doing, standing here, when I am supposed to be there? No…No…This is not happening! I refused to accept this. I tried to get a hold of myself and told myself not to panic and remain calm. But it was no good. Standing there I felt all my blood draining down to the floor, sending painful chills from head to toe. I felt light. Sadness came over me and I was trembling. It was the deepest sorrow I have ever felt in my whole but seemingly short life. Tears blurred my vision but I blinked many times to wipe them away. Then I remembered about my sister. Her name is Lora but we call her La. I called out to her. ‘La, please come her for a moment’

‘What is it?’ she asked as she walked out of her room, oiling her hair.

Without looking at her and still facing my body I said ‘There, look’

Lora stepped back, a look of shock and disbelief instantly beamed on he face. She looked at me and the bed several times. She said nothing and after a long while held my arm. With her oily palms she squeezed my arm and softly asked ‘Are you really dead?’ Horror and sadness clouded her face.

The reality struck me hard. No! I can’t be! It’s not time yet. I pulled away from Lora and stormed toward my body, trembling and teary. One look was all it took to make my decision. I positioned myself over my lifeless body, lying on my side with my head resting on my left arm. It felt surprisingly easy to get back into my body. Once I was sure my soul and body were one, I told myself, ‘Here we go Agus, You’ve passed the first step. Now get ready to wake up again.’

I counted to three and sprang out of bed. I walked a few steps away to get a wider angle but to my dismay, my body was still in bed. And my left eye felt swollen.

‘Damn!’ I cursed.
‘One more time. This time spring up quicker and jerk harder.’ I coached my soul. My heart was beating insanely fast due to anxiety and desperation.

So I got back into my body and waited a few seconds until I felt whole again. Gathering as much energy and will as I could, I was determined to make it the second time. ‘On three…one, two, three’ and I stood upright again, staring at my body that I had come to despise very deeply.

Before the sadness and hopelessness overwhelmed me completely, I decided to attempt another revival. ‘Come on Agus, you can do this. Third time’s a charm. Spring quick, turn swift, jerk hard and kick with all your might! If that won’t do it, I don’t know what will!’ I offered myself last words of strategy and support. I didn’t care how beaten up clichés they were, because all I wanted was to get out of bed, alive!

‘On three! One…two…three!’

True enough I woke up a wholly happy man! I was partially lying on my side, the back of my head on the pillow. ‘But why am I still lying in bed, not standing up like previous attempts?’ I asked. I looked around and the sun was shining, it’s rays peered through the window. The smell and sound of breakfast being prepared came from downstairs; coffee, toast, I never thought they could make me cry. I grabbed my arms, looked at them, squeezed one after the other, rubbed my palms over and around my face and knew for certain that it was over. It was just a series of bad dreams. A dream about waking up on the wrong side, the other side. My sore left eye turned out to be the result of being pressed on my left bicep.

I have never come to a conclusion so quickly and feeling ecstatic about it so instantly. I am and will always be alive and well, till the day I really die. But let’s not go there just yet. There is life to be celebrated. Life to live and savor, every breathing moment of it.

After the dust in my head settled, I started thinking, gathering bits and pieces of events in dream and real time. It made me smile. I let out a soft chuckle. Hah! Was that a bizarre dream or what! All that mystical ritual and an injured grandfather messed up my head real good last night.

Grandpa! Where’s grandpa? I went downstairs and saw grandpa sipping hot coffee and watching tv. All well and as composed as an owl. His head was still wrapped, neatly this time. My sister was in the kitchen stirring her drink when I asked her about grandpa. ‘We’re taking him to the hospital after breakfast, which is soon. He looks okay though.’ She said.

Good. I hope he’s not seriously injured. No internal bleeding or fatal infections.

Before turning away, I stared at Lora for a while, trying to fish out any strand of knowledge about my dream.

‘What?’ she asked. I hinted a smile and said ‘Nothing…’

Damned! It feels good to be alive!

.

.

.

There you go. A story about a real dream that I would never, ever wish come true; it was just a dream. A story about a dream laced with heavy suspiscions of the effects of watching too much tv, Ghost, The Collector and Tru Calling to name a few. A story out of this world, or rather, out of this body...

Out of body: Part 2/3: Alcohol and blood

Continued from Part 1/3: Miring
...

After a simple miring ceremony at my sister’s house in Kapit, we had dinner. A nice array of food and drinks, deserts and snacks were served and we ate to our hearts’ content. The miring plates have been placed in every family member’s room. The women got the talking and the men started the mandatory drinking session outside at the porch. It seemed my brother in law’s mother had stocked up a good deal of home made rice wine brew called ‘tuak’ as a result of their previous year’s absence from the scene. His father passed away last year so there was no celebration then. Tuak and a host of other imported liquors made the drinking session very lively. Moderation is slowly forgotten and no one noticed it diluting with all that alcohol; it wasn’t missed. But the ambiance was pleasant and orderly, contrary to most sessions elsewhere.

Around the table sat my brother in law, a few friends and relatives and his grandfather. Yes, his grandfather is an old and wise gentleman. More than once, telling me how my father is a humble and gracious man, how he is the people’s person who gets along very well with everyone, and that he respects my father as much as my father respects him. All this did not surprise me much as this was one of his many values that he strongly insists his children bear. It does however made me glad, despite wanting to be better than my father, that I was indirectly told that I inherited a good trait.

This old man is also soft spoken and mild mannered. Often times it is said that alcohol intoxication brings out the worst in people. But this grandpa just kept on smiling as he dished out sensible thoughts and deductions when it was expected of him. Once in a while his facial expressions indicated deep thoughts, like his mind went off somewhere remote to retrieve something important. He left the table a few times to flush out the excessive fluid consumed throughout the session and at one point, didn’t return. We finally agreed that he has retired from the session and has called it a day. We continued our discussions, though I can’t really recall a solid issue. It was this and that, here and there. Such are dialogues fuelled by alcohol.

After a while my sister’s niece called out to her grandma and said she heard a few thuds upstairs. I went in and she told me that great grandpa had gone upstairs a while ago and just now she heard something hit the floor. ‘It could be grandpa.’ she said.

Both of us rushed upstairs, into his room, and there was grandpa lying on his left side, his back against the wall and his head right at the corner of the room. And ironing board had fallen nearby and it brought down the iron as well. An ashtray slipped off a reading table, scattering a number of cigarette butts and sprinkling ash all over the floor. Grandpa was mumbling something and was almost crouching, his head resting on his left arm. Eyes shut, he was in a mixed state; dead sleepy, intoxicated and groggy, and in pain. I took a closer look at the corner and saw blood stains on the wall. Trickles of blood I then saw on the floor. I reached for his head, felt his scalp and had blood on my fingers. Her daughter, my sister’s mother in law, came in afterwards. She told her granddaughter to fetch a bowl of warm water and a piece of cloth.

“Ah, he’s had too much. Must have fallen and tried to get up again” she said, calm but worried. We looked around, gathering as many clues as we could and attempting to guess what went on earlier. It looked like he went to the toilet to throw up and as he walked back into the room, he reached for the ironing board for support, knocking down the ashtray from the table nearby in the process. Unfortunately the flimsy board gave way too easily and he fell, near the corner. The accompanying iron missed him and hit the floor instead. He fumbled for the wall, tried to get back on his feet, leaning against the wall for support as he pushed himself up. This lead his head toward edge of a mosquito mesh frame and a sharp aluminum corner carved into his scalp. The scorching pain must have disabled him completely, causing him to fall tight into the corner and helplessly wait with the hope that someone downstairs heard the commotion.

As his daughter cleaned his scalp he let out a few painful yelps and moans. She wiped the blood and vomit off his face and wrapped his head to stop the bleeding. They laid him carefully in bed and hoped he’ll be alright. It was almost 3 am when everything was calm again, and since lying in my room allowed a full view of the patient, grandma told me to be on guard just in case he pulls a deadlier stunt.

“Great! Uhm, do I sleep lightly or just stay wide awake in the process? Sheesh!” I grumbled in silence.
As much as I hate the predicament I’ve landed in, I don’t want this old man to die under my watch. That would not make for a jolly good gawai. And so I slept extremely light, making sure I jump at the slightest sound. My thoughts played all kinds of possible dreadful scenarios. One depicted him lying there, his moans getting louder as it built up into a scream; an eerie scream of death. Arghhhhhhh . Another showed the morning sun rays gleaming on a dead body in the next room, a sign that I spent one night sleeping with the dead.

I was miserably terrified that night. I was stuck between an unknown group of watchful spirits represented by a miring plate full of eggs, rice and wheat pops, a feather etc, etc, and an old man who might just be cold and stiff the next day. An air brewing a storm of mystical notion and probable death filled my bedroom that night, or rather, early morning. Although the lights were turned on it felt very dark and cold from where I laid, stiff and anxious. Once in a while I would hear faint moans and my ears pricked, my head quickly directed a view to the room and like an eagle’s eyes, mine would zoom as close as possible to assess the situation. Each time was a false alarm. But I was told to be on guard. And I will do my best not to disappoint, till death fails me.

A night of sleepless endurance, a room assumed to harbor guardians and a system drenched with sleep-inducing alcohol; it doesn’t get any worse than this, I thought.

But I was wrong.

And this is to be continued. Part 3 of 3