We’re already reaching the third quarter of the school session, which means Spring Break (and conveniently, Hari Raya) is drawing near. Unfortunately, assignments pave ways for the remaining week following the 4-day intensive Spring Course I’ll be taking. I’m hoping to squeeze in a couple of lunches for family friends and classmates, which is all I can afford and the rest of the time will be spent at my working desk.
Nevertheless, I’m immensely enjoying my tasks at the moment. A complete break towards the end of the session is something I’m definitely looking forward to, but in the meantime, I’m not taking any chances. Previous assessments taught me what I should and shouldn’t do - and putting enough and early effort in my essays, I learned, is a must.
There’s nothing more disheartening than finding out that the mistake a person made after a certain point of time is that he or she could’ve done better. It is a disappointment to self, and a disappointment to the work itself.
Friday, September 26, 2008
Thursday, September 25, 2008
The right teacher
A question was thrown at the dinner table today whether we’ve identified our favourite lecturer yet. I for one, already have the answer at hand. No, unfortunately it’s not a question of which lecturer has the most experience nor the highest amount of books written. It’s a pity is it not? When we put knowledge in the scale of numbers, and time. No wonder our society becomes an impossibly rushed society. Everyone is chasing digits.
For me it’s about the lecturer who brings out the best in his students. The type who could talk about his field as if telling stories out of a story book. The one who could casually sit in the class and let his passion clear to the students without limiting any conflicting ideas. What is knowledge anyway but information perceived by personal reasoning?
So, the lecturer who sits at the top of my favorite teachers list now - he brought with him a couple of video tapes to class this week. Carefully asking whether any of us have watched “Sixty Thousand Barrels”, he sighed with relief when we shaked our heads. I feel guilty playing this film in almost all of my classes, but anyway, it’s my film. He smiled whimsically at the end of his sentence.
Now, if you don’t know me enough - I am inspired by people who are doing great many things, I am appealed by the whole, organic, and fluid approach to career and profession. Someone who started as a geologist, turned a screenwriter, and finally a teacher in history and philosophy. Someone who worked initially in central banking sector, and end up becoming an international figure in transparency and government integrity. What it indicates is clear isn’t it? It shows you’re working with you heart set right in place. It shows you’re keen on what you’re doing, said Tunku Aziz.
Note: “Sixty Thousand Barrels” is a profound documentary about how Orica, a chemical production industry, manages its toxic waste and struggles to do it responsibly for the surrounding community. The highlight of the documentary is Nancy Hillier, a fiery 78-year old who leads the community action group to demand transparency and accountability from the company.
In Sydney Morning Herald, my lecturer talks about the art of imagining a greener future.
For me it’s about the lecturer who brings out the best in his students. The type who could talk about his field as if telling stories out of a story book. The one who could casually sit in the class and let his passion clear to the students without limiting any conflicting ideas. What is knowledge anyway but information perceived by personal reasoning?
So, the lecturer who sits at the top of my favorite teachers list now - he brought with him a couple of video tapes to class this week. Carefully asking whether any of us have watched “Sixty Thousand Barrels”, he sighed with relief when we shaked our heads. I feel guilty playing this film in almost all of my classes, but anyway, it’s my film. He smiled whimsically at the end of his sentence.
Now, if you don’t know me enough - I am inspired by people who are doing great many things, I am appealed by the whole, organic, and fluid approach to career and profession. Someone who started as a geologist, turned a screenwriter, and finally a teacher in history and philosophy. Someone who worked initially in central banking sector, and end up becoming an international figure in transparency and government integrity. What it indicates is clear isn’t it? It shows you’re working with you heart set right in place. It shows you’re keen on what you’re doing, said Tunku Aziz.
Note: “Sixty Thousand Barrels” is a profound documentary about how Orica, a chemical production industry, manages its toxic waste and struggles to do it responsibly for the surrounding community. The highlight of the documentary is Nancy Hillier, a fiery 78-year old who leads the community action group to demand transparency and accountability from the company.
In Sydney Morning Herald, my lecturer talks about the art of imagining a greener future.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Deceptively reassuring
Australia, as it turns out, is notorious in deceiving us with its weather. One day the chill cuts through your bone as if telling you the winter is never going away, and another day the sunshine beams upon you like rain, its cheerful disposition deceives you to a short-lived euphoria. In time you learn to reconcile with its impudence, because retaliating against it only breeds disappointments.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Stuck in a rut
I was feeling helpless with myself. Concentrating on problems and feelings doesn’t seem to work out a better solution for my psychological being. I feel like I was stuck in a rut, in a state of environmental disempowerment. I feel like I should be learning more, thinking more, reading more, and doing more.
Admittedly, living green is not as difficult as it used to be. We carefully separate our recyclable items now, use of electricity is observed to the minimal needs, and I mostly opt to walk to school and never drive. All is possible given the current situation I’m living in; abroad.
Still there are a lot more to it on my part to keep up to, like enlightening myself with ample environmental knowledge on our country and globally and effectively passing on the information to others. Because in a society where there are so little rooms for personal expression; information is the key, knowledge is power.
Seeing what others could do, where things have gone wrong, and what is being concealed changes the whole perspective at which we see something; and I want to play a part to change it.
Admittedly, living green is not as difficult as it used to be. We carefully separate our recyclable items now, use of electricity is observed to the minimal needs, and I mostly opt to walk to school and never drive. All is possible given the current situation I’m living in; abroad.
Still there are a lot more to it on my part to keep up to, like enlightening myself with ample environmental knowledge on our country and globally and effectively passing on the information to others. Because in a society where there are so little rooms for personal expression; information is the key, knowledge is power.
Seeing what others could do, where things have gone wrong, and what is being concealed changes the whole perspective at which we see something; and I want to play a part to change it.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
On the question of God
On the question of God - I am not exactly a decent model for piety. All my life I continuously struggle to keep my sporadic prayers in check, although I cannot deny in doing so praying has always given me a sense of great relief. In some ways I think I always relate personally to God - more in terms of a Creator-Creation relationship than Allah-Muslim-Islam relationship. I find it increasingly difficult to admit the ultimate truth and supremacy of Islam, because I am beginning to discover how faith is subjected to human perception, which makes truth too. If truth is subjective, so the truth out there can be plenty right? If God alone is enough reason for us to submit our inner self to a greater and divine force, so what significance is there in concerning ourselves with whose religion is holier than the other? Surely God’s presence and truth transcends all and any kind of spiritual realms.
Somehow I feel like I am stuck in some kind of a spiritual twilight, a vacuum of chaotic and disordered soul - the damned, the doomed, and the invalid.
Somehow I feel like I am stuck in some kind of a spiritual twilight, a vacuum of chaotic and disordered soul - the damned, the doomed, and the invalid.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Missing home
Spring is finally saying hello to the land of Australia. The sun is pushing through the cloud, eager to expose her burning rays. Days are longer, vibrant moods spread in the air. Winter on the other hand, is counting her last days, blanketing us with her remaining cold winds and soft showers - the dreaded farewell, the final parting.
The approaching weather, albeit warmly welcomed and aptly celebrated, reminds me rather painfully of home. The hot days carry a rather salty taste in the air, and it takes me back to the long stretch of beaches in Marang I often drove past on my way home and the smell of Teluk Chempedak and all its merry splendour. The taste of coffee in the morning, humid and wet, brings to me the times spent in McDonald’s and local kopitiam with dearest brother. Our long conversations - the shared memories, laughter and tears - anything which gives home its meaning. The fasting month too, with it comes thirst and hunger, and arrays of hallucination on Malaysian cuisines; karipap, bubur lambuk, and murtabak. Few times I stumbled and uttered Malay words to my Australian friends, only to find confused and appalled stares in response.
Home claws to me like roots, enveloping my core with its dusty and intertwining fibers. Without it I collapse, without it I decay, without it I am no longer a living, breathing, beating entity.
The approaching weather, albeit warmly welcomed and aptly celebrated, reminds me rather painfully of home. The hot days carry a rather salty taste in the air, and it takes me back to the long stretch of beaches in Marang I often drove past on my way home and the smell of Teluk Chempedak and all its merry splendour. The taste of coffee in the morning, humid and wet, brings to me the times spent in McDonald’s and local kopitiam with dearest brother. Our long conversations - the shared memories, laughter and tears - anything which gives home its meaning. The fasting month too, with it comes thirst and hunger, and arrays of hallucination on Malaysian cuisines; karipap, bubur lambuk, and murtabak. Few times I stumbled and uttered Malay words to my Australian friends, only to find confused and appalled stares in response.
Home claws to me like roots, enveloping my core with its dusty and intertwining fibers. Without it I collapse, without it I decay, without it I am no longer a living, breathing, beating entity.
Saturday, September 13, 2008
A Letter from Sydney
It’s mid-afternoon and the winter is at its end. Apart from the occasionally freezing wind blowing through the streets, the ocean is blue as the sky is clear, the sun is out and people wear shorts and thongs as if it is already summer. Mothers are sitting in a circle at one corner of the park, while a strong whiff of steak is distracting the passers-by as a group of youngsters are making full use one of the electric barbeques available for the public. Bikers, skateboarders, and casual runners keep passing by on the concrete pathway, and away in the sand a group of men are playing volleyball.
It’s 2 p.m. in broad daylight, it’s not weekend, it’s Australia – it’s my home for the time being and another fifteen months to come, and I love it to bits.
G’DAY FOLKS!
This is Ati, your book-loving friend writing from Sydney, Australia. I am at the moment completing my postgraduate degree in Environmental Management at the University of New South Wales (UNSW). Did I hear you said boring? Wait till you read the rest of my story!
Sydney is indeed a breeze of fresh air in comparison to Malaysia. The city is clean, the people are friendly, and nature is everywhere. When you look at the map and see how big Australia is compared to our country, believe me you’ll get the same feeling of wonder once you set your feet in this majestic country. I remember being swept away as my eyes caught the glimpse of Sydney Opera House from afar, its geometric roofs sprouted to the sky like a flower. You’ll be impressed with the Blue Mountains too; the vast sprawling forest covers spreads before you like a carpet, with a sprinkle of blue mist all over it. Oh and the beaches! I currently live in one of the Eastern Coastal Suburbs of Sydney, Coogee, and the beach is five minutes away from my house. The other day I was informed by my friend a mother whale and its calf are swimming leisurely in the ocean, meters away from the beach and I only had to run from the house in my flip flops to watch it. It’s like nature in my own backyard!
My dear readers, you’re already fuming with envy, aren’t you? I am not stopping yet! Australians, as it turns out, are quite big on sports and getting fit. That means plenty of pretty lasses and gorgeous blokes in their sports attire going around and about every day; running along the beach surfing in the sea, and coming in and out of the gym. In fact, if you look at the UNSW lifestyle centre (fancy word for gym, eh?), there are so many people in it made me wonder if these guys are doing their degree in getting fit or something. But eye candy aplenty nevertheless! People in Australia are extremely friendly too; only with a simple “Hi!” and “Good morning!” thrown out with a big smile, I could easily initiate a lengthy conversation with a stranger. Furthermore, they are so generous with kindness and affections, and to feel out of place in Sydney is definitely out of question. In fact, I think it is impossible not to go through the day without a slightest feeling of confidence and optimism about life once you encounter Australia and its people.
Now to the question of yours-truly, I must’ve written with enormous exuberance you might think I am not missing Malaysia at all. You’re partially correct my dear friend. If we’re talking about food, thanks to my culinary skills and the Kipas Udang soy sauce which I can always buy from the nearest oriental market, Malaysian food are always only a kitchen away. Recently I realized how simple yet creative our ancestors had been with the creation of food; the other day by using the same ingredients all over again, I was able to make buah Melaka, kuih koci, and tepung bungkus!
What about nasi briyani, roti canai, ayam tandoori and all those mamak cuisines I had always been so besotted with at home? No worries mate, did I tell you I am living with three housemates from India who are all exceptional in cooking we end up talking about opening a restaurant in Sydney instead of finishing our Master’s degrees. Fasting? Apart from occasional envy I lashed out at my brother for bragging about the lots of nasi dagang and satay he was having at home, the day ends as early as 5.30 p.m. in Sydney (and 3.30 p.m. in Malaysia, giving me a tons of reason to get back at him), so it’s not too bad at all.
Food aside, I am happy to let you know that I am indeed savoring my time in Sydney. The openness in which Australians practice in their discussion in particular allows me to express my opinions (and confusions) rather freely compared to what I had experienced at home, and it consequently gives me more room and courage in tackling the issue head on instead of keeping it boiling inside me. Nevertheless, as I had left Malaysia with the sole aim to untangle various confusions I was experiencing in relation to my religion, culture, and society, I am certain as much as I am enjoying my time in Australia, I will be looking forward to go back. Like the last time I attended a Malam Gema Merdeka organized by Malaysian students in conjunction with our National Day, I couldn’t believe myself as tears welled up in my eyes upon hearing M.Nasir’s Mentera Semerah Padi. I knew right then and there although sometimes there are so much I am unhappy about the current affairs in Malaysia, the country is as close to me as my own blood.
In the meantime my dear readers, I have fifteen months left and I am going to Fiji soon!
Your spirited book-lover, ATI
It’s 2 p.m. in broad daylight, it’s not weekend, it’s Australia – it’s my home for the time being and another fifteen months to come, and I love it to bits.
G’DAY FOLKS!
This is Ati, your book-loving friend writing from Sydney, Australia. I am at the moment completing my postgraduate degree in Environmental Management at the University of New South Wales (UNSW). Did I hear you said boring? Wait till you read the rest of my story!
Sydney is indeed a breeze of fresh air in comparison to Malaysia. The city is clean, the people are friendly, and nature is everywhere. When you look at the map and see how big Australia is compared to our country, believe me you’ll get the same feeling of wonder once you set your feet in this majestic country. I remember being swept away as my eyes caught the glimpse of Sydney Opera House from afar, its geometric roofs sprouted to the sky like a flower. You’ll be impressed with the Blue Mountains too; the vast sprawling forest covers spreads before you like a carpet, with a sprinkle of blue mist all over it. Oh and the beaches! I currently live in one of the Eastern Coastal Suburbs of Sydney, Coogee, and the beach is five minutes away from my house. The other day I was informed by my friend a mother whale and its calf are swimming leisurely in the ocean, meters away from the beach and I only had to run from the house in my flip flops to watch it. It’s like nature in my own backyard!
My dear readers, you’re already fuming with envy, aren’t you? I am not stopping yet! Australians, as it turns out, are quite big on sports and getting fit. That means plenty of pretty lasses and gorgeous blokes in their sports attire going around and about every day; running along the beach surfing in the sea, and coming in and out of the gym. In fact, if you look at the UNSW lifestyle centre (fancy word for gym, eh?), there are so many people in it made me wonder if these guys are doing their degree in getting fit or something. But eye candy aplenty nevertheless! People in Australia are extremely friendly too; only with a simple “Hi!” and “Good morning!” thrown out with a big smile, I could easily initiate a lengthy conversation with a stranger. Furthermore, they are so generous with kindness and affections, and to feel out of place in Sydney is definitely out of question. In fact, I think it is impossible not to go through the day without a slightest feeling of confidence and optimism about life once you encounter Australia and its people.
Now to the question of yours-truly, I must’ve written with enormous exuberance you might think I am not missing Malaysia at all. You’re partially correct my dear friend. If we’re talking about food, thanks to my culinary skills and the Kipas Udang soy sauce which I can always buy from the nearest oriental market, Malaysian food are always only a kitchen away. Recently I realized how simple yet creative our ancestors had been with the creation of food; the other day by using the same ingredients all over again, I was able to make buah Melaka, kuih koci, and tepung bungkus!
What about nasi briyani, roti canai, ayam tandoori and all those mamak cuisines I had always been so besotted with at home? No worries mate, did I tell you I am living with three housemates from India who are all exceptional in cooking we end up talking about opening a restaurant in Sydney instead of finishing our Master’s degrees. Fasting? Apart from occasional envy I lashed out at my brother for bragging about the lots of nasi dagang and satay he was having at home, the day ends as early as 5.30 p.m. in Sydney (and 3.30 p.m. in Malaysia, giving me a tons of reason to get back at him), so it’s not too bad at all.
Food aside, I am happy to let you know that I am indeed savoring my time in Sydney. The openness in which Australians practice in their discussion in particular allows me to express my opinions (and confusions) rather freely compared to what I had experienced at home, and it consequently gives me more room and courage in tackling the issue head on instead of keeping it boiling inside me. Nevertheless, as I had left Malaysia with the sole aim to untangle various confusions I was experiencing in relation to my religion, culture, and society, I am certain as much as I am enjoying my time in Australia, I will be looking forward to go back. Like the last time I attended a Malam Gema Merdeka organized by Malaysian students in conjunction with our National Day, I couldn’t believe myself as tears welled up in my eyes upon hearing M.Nasir’s Mentera Semerah Padi. I knew right then and there although sometimes there are so much I am unhappy about the current affairs in Malaysia, the country is as close to me as my own blood.
In the meantime my dear readers, I have fifteen months left and I am going to Fiji soon!
Your spirited book-lover, ATI
Friday, September 5, 2008
Drifting apart
These days’ talking to my friends is becoming a source of frustration for me. When I was in Malaysia, expressing a different mindset was only limited to the way I read books, the way I write, and the way I carry myself in my own world. Apart from all of it, we still share our time together, our common meals, cultures, and familiar society settings. Now I am in Australia, living a different life, and in a way living and expressing my mind - we become as different as summer and winter, as water and oil, as heaven and earth.
On the contrary to how my friends might view it, my departure is actually beyond what was simply a step forward befitting to my professional and academic directions. I had decided to leave, not to go to. I had decided to fled, not to be momentarily absent. I had decided to leave what was left of me, and to become whatever I was meant and dream to be. When I step my foot on the plane two months back, I did not plan to return and still be the same person I was.
How would I tell them about my changing and convoluting inside, about my enthusiasm of exploring the world, pushing the boundaries to the limit, questioning anything which is ambiguous, and never taking on the blind faith, how would I tell them and make them see?
On the contrary to how my friends might view it, my departure is actually beyond what was simply a step forward befitting to my professional and academic directions. I had decided to leave, not to go to. I had decided to fled, not to be momentarily absent. I had decided to leave what was left of me, and to become whatever I was meant and dream to be. When I step my foot on the plane two months back, I did not plan to return and still be the same person I was.
How would I tell them about my changing and convoluting inside, about my enthusiasm of exploring the world, pushing the boundaries to the limit, questioning anything which is ambiguous, and never taking on the blind faith, how would I tell them and make them see?
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
Antonyms
I am a contradiction of emotions, I am a paradox of life, and I am the irony of how human beings, in all its splendour and wealth of companionship, can still be reduced to the core and crumble to dust.
In one moment I could stare in wonder as the tiny garden gnomes are peeking at me from the tree, in one moment I could shriek in delight at the warm hug a friend offered me, in one moment I could giggle and happily wave at the sight of a neighbour from the window of his house, in one perfect moment I could feel like I am at the perfect place, at the perfect time, where I want to be.
At a sudden turn of event, I could feel as lost as I could be in a void space. I could feel like I am staring into darkness, stepping my feet on the nothingness of uncertainty. I could feel like I am floating away from the continent of familiarity, my being shrunk to minute particles, invisible.
I am lost as I am found, I am fragile as I am strong, I am undecided as I am confident. I am a the master of my destiny, as I am a servant of God.
In one moment I could stare in wonder as the tiny garden gnomes are peeking at me from the tree, in one moment I could shriek in delight at the warm hug a friend offered me, in one moment I could giggle and happily wave at the sight of a neighbour from the window of his house, in one perfect moment I could feel like I am at the perfect place, at the perfect time, where I want to be.
At a sudden turn of event, I could feel as lost as I could be in a void space. I could feel like I am staring into darkness, stepping my feet on the nothingness of uncertainty. I could feel like I am floating away from the continent of familiarity, my being shrunk to minute particles, invisible.
I am lost as I am found, I am fragile as I am strong, I am undecided as I am confident. I am a the master of my destiny, as I am a servant of God.
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