orkid's cafe: serving lemang, not sushi

Hinamatsuri sushi
Originally uploaded by bananagranola

At this particular moment, while you're busy and thinking of lemang or ketupat daun palas, I am thinking of shrimp sushi.

Do you want to know why?

This is because this year I am unable to go to my grandmother's house or anywhere else. My eyes are bulging red. No...it's not ketumbit~!

Sakit mata.
Sakit mata.
Sakit mata.

I realised that my eyes were itchy since Wednesday but I made it worse by eating butter jering prawn.

And now I'm facing the consequences.

Take care, folks.

Selamat Hari Raya Aidiladha.

Luckily it's a lemang day. It's not meant for shrimp sushi.
Huwaaaaaaaaaa!!!! Fever and sore eyes today!

Fortunately, we have three days for takbir and celebration.:)

orkid's cafe: chick digs scars

Chicken Curry from Tablespoon.com
Originally uploaded by tablespoon

Dear friends,

I am still trying to find the strength to write new stories. I'm sorry for not being able to tell you who said what to me, but all I want to say is that everything has been said verbally and not from a blogger. This is from someone who is close to me. So, this is not about jealosy.

Thank you very much for your concern and I'm reading your comments carefully though I'm not ready yet to spoil anyone's blog with my comments since I'm still very moody. Today, I'm going to be the silent reader first.

This posting is one of the postings for Orkid's Cafe and I have kept this posting for a month; hoping that I will find a space for it. Since I don't have anything to present to you guys at this moment, I would like to tell you this true story today. I hope you don't mind, it's a bit lengthy.

Selamat Hari Raya Aidiladha.

Enjoy your day.

Love,

---Sha---

1997

The material to make a white school scarf had one main weakness - it was very difficult to wash. I got some tips from other girls to apply talcum powder before washing it with water and soap. It worked. But it was painstakingly slow.

We had our PREP class at 3.00pm and at least two tudungs. If it was a rainy season, we had to maintain the cleanliness of one tudung we wore from 7.30pm until the end of the afternoon PREP class which was around 5.00pm.

* Tips: If your daughter is staying in the hostel, get her at least three tudungs, please.

No drips of curry allowed. Otherwise we had to wear a curry stained tudung.

There was a girl called Tasha in my batch. She was extraordinary and she was originated from Kuala Lumpur. She played sports,excelled in Math and she was an English debater. These were something which rarely accomplished by a lower form student in a boarding school.

She had her first boyfriend when she was still in form one. Her boyfriend was a senior in form three. They broke up when she was in form two. So, Tasha was a bit matured about all these things. After she broke up with that senior, she became very confident. No more boyfriend. That was what I respect about her.

I have to also mention that she was beautiful - her skin was flawless white and pinkish, her lips similar to pink tulips bud and there always a laughter in that small eyes. In my opinion, the girls were jealous of her and the boys were taking her as a challenge. Yes, she had weaknesses too. I admit that. As usual, the girls would use that as advantages while the boy would use that as a bait. We led a very typical lifestyle in the hostel, don't you think?

One day, we had chicken curry for our lunch. Tasha sat silently with us in the dining hall. Most girls purposedly sat timidly at other places when she was around, causing her to sit to the nearest place to the boys. Therefore, we had to sit with Tasha at that place all the time because Tasha was our friend.

But we preferred to be around Tasha. At least she was not looking around to check on cute guys like the other girls who pretended they were "timid". She had a boyfriend because the boy liked her, not because she was looking for the boy. I admired her courage. She did not feel a thing if she was sitting near the boys. No infatuation whatsoever.

While we enjoyed that luxurious chicken curry, something flew out of nowhere and landed on Tasha's face near her temple. For all we knew, she was gasping and wincing. We didn't check what the object was.

"Tasha! Kau okay ke?" We stopped eating.

"Takpe...takpe. Aku okay," Tasha said while wiping her face with the baju kurung's cuffs. It smeared with curry. Her one and only available tudung looked horrible.

I turned my back and saw a group of boys laughing at her. They thought it was funny.

One of us checked the object which has been thrown to Tasha. It was chicken drumstick - the flesh has been eaten, the bone has been thrown. I believed the person dipped the bone into curry before throwing it to her.

We stopped eating and helped Tasha carried her tray. The moment she left her place, a group of around twenty boys booed her.

"Booooooooooooooo....boooooooooo...hahahahahaahhaa..." they booed her and they laughed.

Tasha didn't cry. She looked straight and left.

The other girls who hated her laughed too. How mean. How cruel. How utterly stupid! You laughed at another girl because of the boys stupidity? Betrayers!

When we reached the hostel, we wiped off the curry and checked her temple. It was bruised.

"Cakap kat warden. Jom?" one of my friends suggested.

"Takpelah. Biarkan diorang," Tasha said.

She insisted on not doing anything. That was the first time. There were times when it was not a chicken bone (regardless whether it was curry, masak kicap, masak merah, gulai, soup...); they even threw water melon hard skin, the tasteless guava, and fish bones too.

The boys might get straight As in UPSR or PMR before Education Ministry offered them the spot in that so called prestigous school. Yet, they got no brain. That was my conclusion. Good luck to their wives.

Tasha was one of the many girls who has been the object of amusement for the boys. We didn't complain. The girls would never win against our ustazah. She blamed us for the boys' mischievous actions. She said we were the one who asked for it. Really?

Tasha didn't do anything. My senior, who was the most silent girl in the school didn't do anything either. The junior who couldn't stopped reciting Al-Quran (Alhamdulillah, I hope this still continues), did not asked for it too! But the boys won in that throwing party.

Fine.

Thanks ustazah. You were very fair.

2000

"Betul kau taknak bagi number kau?" he asked me.

"Tak," I replied.

"Kenapa? Aku suka kau dari sekolah lagi," he confessed.

"Kenapa tak cakap?" I demanded an answer.

"Sebab kita sekolah lagi. Kau pun macam tak nak berboyfriend," he said.

"Sekarang apa bezanya?"

"Sekarang kita dah habis sekolah. Dah lain," he smiled.

He was one of the most handsome guy in my class. Yet, he was insolent. Rude!!! While I was eating at the college's cafetaria, he came and sat in front of me and chaste my room mate away from the table. He said, it was between him and me ONLY. I pitied my room mate. She just walked off the moment my ex-schoolmate said that to her.

Was that a proper way of approaching a girl?

"Aku rasa, bila-bila kau jumpa aku pun kau boleh tegur. Kan dah sama uni. Tak perlulah bagi nombor," I said firmly.

"Tapi aku dekat tempat engineering, kau dekat tempat business...mana sama?" He was very reluctant to accept things.

"Kita satu sekolah kan. Kita kawan. Okay?" He looked dissatisfied.

"Kau ingat tak masa sekolah? Budak lelaki suka baling tulang ayam dalam dewan makan?" I asked him.

"Ingat. Kenapa?"

"Kenapa ye, diorang baling?" I asked.

"Saja...suka-suka. Lagipun ada separuh budak perempuan memang patut diajar macam tu, " he arrogantly said that.

"Kalau yang dibaling tu adik kau, kakak kau, mak kau...itu untuk mengajar jugaklah?"

"Apasal kau cakap macam tu pulak?"

"Taklah...aku cuma nak tengok, ada perubahan tak. Nampaknya tak," I told him.

"Tapi...aku memang suka kau, Sha."

"Aku lagi suka kalau kau respect aku," I smiled.

"Memang pun."

"Tapi...kau tak respect perempuan. So, kau tak respect aku," and I left.

"So, aku tak dapat number kau, tak dapat kawan dengan kau sebab kita satu sekolah?" he asked with unsatisfied face.

"Ya." My answer was simple.

He sat there until the the cafe lights went off. Someone told me.

2009

I'm surfing my Facebook - there are lots of funny faces, pictures of babies, amazing status updates and replies.

"Tengok-tengok Facebook, tak pernah terfikir nak keluar dengan mana-mana budak sekolah dulu ke? Yang bujang?" Ibu teased me.

I simply replied, "Tak."

When I'm not saying much, ibu knows very well that it is best not to continue. I check my network to see whether Tasha's name is available. None. She is nowhere in scene. We have lost contact ever since she transferred into another boarding school (she was one of the luckiest person who managed to switch between Sekolah Berasrama Penuh).

I was not surprise. Some scars run deep.

Like Tasha's. Like mine.

Any scars, dear friends?

orkid's cafe: cracker, i'll quit blogging

010507_00146
Originally uploaded by Yasmin & Arye Photographers

Writing has always been my passion and this blog has been with me since 2004.

You don't know how you met me
You don't know why
You can't turn around and say goodbye
All you know is when I'm with you
I make you free
And swim through your veins like a fish in the sea
I'm singin'

Follow me everything is alright
I'll be the one to tuck you in at night
And if you
Want to leave I can guarantee
You won't find nobody else like me

5 years of writing.

Went through journey from a student to various jobs.
Went through two separate relationships.
Went through unofficial relationships too:)
Went through all hardship in life.
Went throught the great moments in life.

Follow me everything is alright
I'll be the one to tuck you in at night
And if you
Want to leave I can guarantee
You won't find nobody else like me

I'm not worried 'bout the ring you wear
Cuz as long as no one knows than nobody can care
You're feelin' guilty and I'm well aware
But you don't look ashamed and baby I'm not scared
I'm singin'

5 years of writing.

Met lots of people.
Some good.
Some bad.
Some nice.
Some inspiring.
Some nauseating.

Won't give you money
I can't give you the sky
You're better off if you don't ask why
I'm not the reason that you go astray and
We'll be all right if you don't ask me to stay

5 years of writing.
Have I been writing junks?

When all I'm doing is to be in my own world.

You don't know how you met me
You don't know why
You can't turn around and say goodbye
All you know is when I'm with you
I make you free
And swim through your veins like a fish in the sea

5 years of writing

I received this:
"Macamlah kau penulis agung. Perasan!"

and this

"Topik-topik dalam blog ko sejak dua menjak ni sangat tak best."

So, I want to tell you folks...

That I'll quit blogging...
...because there is someone saying,

"You should quit when you're on top."

Lyrics: Follow Me by Uncle Kracker (click to view the video)

orkid's cafe: the fear of eating fried chicken

Buttermilk Fried Chicken @ Ad Hoc
Originally uploaded by armaburrito

I wanted to announce the person's name next week. But come to think about it again, it will be Aidiladha soon and most bloggers will be on holiday. Furthermore, with the answers I got, I think lots of bloggers wanted to have my confession rather than an announcement:)

Okay...okay...you won! Honestly, I'm not doing a justice to my crush over here. I'm supposed to post about him last week when most of our friends still had the time to read. Unfortunately, due to my own carelessness and streamyx extraordinary service, I did not managed to post this last week. Postponing is something I hate to do; because I want my facts to be right at the right time.

I've always wondered how will I say what I wrote yesterday (in my posting) if the person is in front of me. Trust me, I'm a very shy person. I blush easily. Plus, I have this inferiority of meeting someone in person. I'm not pretty and I'm a chatterbox. Do you think everyone can stand me? No, I don't think so. Furthermore, my past experience of meeting one of my readers has taught me that meeting a reader must be taken into a serious consideration. It can be dangerous.

Let's not spoil the posting by talking about that. Hmmm..let's just say that I have my own imagination about the day I'm going to meet him.

First - Sha meets Mr. Blogger as a Barista

Me: Welcome to Starbucks! Yes, sir...how can I help you?

Him: (showing the board behind me)

Me: Yes sir, do you want your drinks to be cold or hot?

Him: Hot.

Me: Do you want anything based on coffee, chocolate or tea?

Him: Coffee.

Me: Sir, this is our menu for coffee based hot drinks. You can have a look.

Him: Whatever.

Waaaaaaaaaaaaaarggghhhh!!! Imagine that. I mean, his postings have shown me a bit of his personality. His long comments suggested that he is also a chatterbox. But a blogger can be anyone. A chatterbox in the blog but a sealed box in reality.

Second - Sha meets Mr. Blogger as a Cleaner

Me: Encik, boleh keluar dari tandas sekejap. Saya nak kemas.

Him: Tapi saya nak kencing sekarang.

Me: Tak boleh tahan kencing ke, encik?

Him: Tak boleh.

Me: Tapi encik kena tahan! Schedule saya mengemas pukul 3. Tak boleh lambat!

Him: Kencing 5 minit pun tak boleh ke?

Me: Tak boleh!

Him: (Paaaaaaanngggg!!!!)

Me: (Poooooooooooooonnnggg!!!)

Alamak, what if he is stubborn? Because everyone told me that I'm stubborn a mule! Stubborn man is meeting a stubborn girl? Oooo...that's not good isn't it? What if both of us start to slap each other? Oh, no...a disaster! Erk. Whatever is going to happen after the slapping session is going to be beyond my wildest imagination. Nooooooo....his icon is showing that he might have big hands. My chubby face might not going to accommodate those hands. Tidak! (Will you slap me, Mr. Blogger?)

Errr...honestly. These have been my occupations and I was thinking about the what ifs. Yes, I'm a blogger at home - who might not appear as a barista or a cleaner. But what if I'm meeting this person at work; where I'm going to be clad in my black uniform and green apron while brewing coffee. The worst, what if I'm meeting him while I'm mopping the floor?

Will these change his opinion towards the blogger he saw in this cyber world or will he accept the barista friend? Or the cleaner?

When someone is inviting another person for a meeting or a date (in this situation, it's going to be me), I will have to bring the Mr. Blogger for a meal. Since I was a barista or a cleaner, will this person accept my invitation for a feast at pasar malam - where the fried chicken is more affordable than KFC? What will be his reaction if I'm going to tell him that I can't buy him that nice buffalo wings in Chilly's?

Yes, whatever I just said just now was my biggest fear.

The fear of showing the pimple's scar by the size of a hole in golf course.

The fear of flashing imperfect smile with crooked teeth.

The fear of the drizzles from my mouth when I'm talking.

The fear of the having the body weight of The Biggest Loser's contestant.

The fear of presenting a cold ayam goreng instead of the one cooked by the chefs.

The fear of not being able to talk about Barack Obama and having the only ability to speak of a kitten named Fernando.

The fear of not being able to translate the dots in the sky to something interesting like a classy stewardess in the flight to Thailand?

My words are insignificant.

My life is a cold reality.

This person said this and asked this yesterday:

me? i'm doing it to change the world. one step at a time... start by telling story in my own way. what about u may i ask?

The answer to that question is....

I'm just a blogger with small and simple ideas with hope that people will read my thoughts;)

So, who was that person?

Yup, you can read from the comments of yesterday's posting and you will know. Hehehehe...that's not fair, right? Okay, I'll announce it:

My answer is - this. Please click so that you know the person better.

Talking about him makes me think of the insecurity of telling him about my actual occupation last year. I wanted to hide it so badly because I didn't want anyone to know too much about me. Unfortunately, I eventually made a mistake which caused the gate to the real me to be opened;)

Should I tell them about this story or do you want to do it, Mr. Pocket?

Ooooopsss...did I mentioned his name just now?

orkid's cafe: chicken soup for the blogger's soul

Chicken Soup
Originally uploaded by mykomputer

I am single. I'm not married and I don't have any boyfriend. Not anymore. But I have a crush on someone:)

No, he is not Jack Bass. Jack Bass is a tv show character. My crush is a blogger. You think this is scandalous? Well, read more.

When my former boss asked me about my crush who he thought was at the work place, he was wrong. He simply loved to gossip. I mean, talking to me about who was sleeping with whom was his hobby. But I remember saying this to him:

"I have my own taste," I told him when he was interrogating me and trying to make me as his another prey:)

How do I define my taste? Well, one thing for sure - I love smart guys. When I say smart, it doesn't have to be academically smart. I don't mind having someone who is street smart. As long as the person is speaking the same languange, it should be fine for me.

For instant, if I'm talking about a purple orchid in a vase, he should know it's about the purple orchid and not the vase. But, in order to be someone I admire, the person should know what is the relation between the orchid and the vase.

Complicated? It sounds complicated. But it's not. This is because, I finally found someone who managed to say the non-cliche things. Who is that person? Let me tell you about him.

This person is elder than me. How do I know? By reading and observing. Extensively. I was actually stalking him;)

It took several sleepless nights for me to recall my memory about how we "met". Then I remember. I saw his nickname in Afdlin Shauki's blog. He put his comment in one of the actor/director's posting. The comment was quite long. And...most importantly, it was not CLICHE at all.

So, I followed his link and became a silent reader for several months:)

I was lost. I didn't know him that much. I saw several comments - most of them were from the people who knew him personally. At first, I became intimidated and I bent my head really low. He was writing in English and somehow, even though I was using English everyday due to job requirement, I had a silent moment.

I couldn't construct my own sentence without thinking that he might be checking my grammar. So, when I was commenting in his blog, I made sure I read my comments at least two or three times before adding it to other comments. How bad, kan?! Well, that was his effect on me, I guess.

Then he came over to my blog. His comments were long enough for me to notice it was him. Sometimes he didn't comment at all. But one day I realised that he was good in commenting about relationships - the topic I frequently discussed last year. From a comment per week, I received at least two comments per week. And as a result? I became his blog's regular reader.

Honestly, I was not into blog hopping until I read his blog:)

When I saw his picture as the latest visitor in MyBlogLog, I was happy.

When he was commenting, I smiled to my PC and fumbled with my words to reply.

When he was not commenting, I hoped he read.

Frustrated when he was not commenting? A bit.

No, I lied. A lot.

Looking at his icon was a pleasure.

Waiting for it to appear was the pain.

That is the reason why I'm calling him my crush.

I knew for a fact that the non-cliche comments were actually effecting me but that was just him. While blog hopping, I saw his comments in other blogs and I knew that he read the postings before he commented. He did not just do it in my blog.

So, stop being perasan, Sha:)

Until 162. For some reason, he puts numbers on his posting to indicate the amount of postings he has. I knew he has been blogging since 2004 - the year I started this blog. Our similarities were in terms of the lack of number of postings but our differences were a lot. He did not show or write about himself that much. He rarely posted any pictures especially the pictures of him. His attraction is his words and other mysteries that I have to dig by myself:)

"i'm having my speculation, my thinking hat is on.

and bad ideas are pouring in, even wondered

'will a person bleed if a chair is swing to his left ear?'

'kak saya nak balik dulu lah yer, ada dua tiga tempat lg nak gi nih:)'

was my farewell speech as i slide a green angpow envelope with

RM20 in it under the pillow, obvious enough for her to realize it.

'makasih la yer ******... teh pun kami tak dan nak buat'

and i went on without even looking at the guy who's having his lunch. hoh!!"

- Quotes from Posting 162: A Disgrace of Man Kind

Yes, I like this posting a lot. I personally asked him to give the number of this posting so that I can read this posting over and over and over again. This posting is saved in my thumb drive, desk top and the laptop - in case I'm feeling blue or boring.

Why do I like it?

Despite writing in English, the article is so Malaysian until I'm imagining him in the story. I only saw one picture of him in red baju Melayu so you can imagine how hard it was to imagine him in something else and to imagine his gesture. I have never met this guy. So, I read the posting carefully and started to visualised his words. I cried.

Some postings made me laughed.

Some postings made me smiled.

Some postings made me smirked.

Some postings made me think.

There were so many postings which made me wonder how he could make me feel at home while reading something in English? Or in Malay with northern accent?And perhaps Indian accent?

Do you know the book Chicken Soup for the Soul? Yup, I have a collection of it because I love it. I love his blog too. There were times when he was not updating, and I felt as if I finished reading a series of Chicken Soup and longing for more. But, I settled down with what I have by reading his old postings over and over again. That is also the way I'm settling down when I'm not buying a new book.

When my aunty suggested that I have to change the direction and language of my blog, it was not an easy decision. I mean, my English is not that good. What if people read it and laugh at me? Then I remember the way he attracted his readers and I was thinking that writing is something you do from heart. He wrote something and it was not pretencious because he did not just write about beautiful things. Can I write things as brilliant as he does?

While I was thinking, he suddenly came out with this posting which mentioned a purple orchid. Purple orchid is my favourite. Well, he didn't mean anything by that. I knew that very well, because he mentioned other people's favourites too. But something triggered in my mind and I started my first all-English posting: purple orchid can be poisonous.

He did it. He made me changed my blog.

Then, he made me intrested in blog hopping - I eventually went to someone else's blog and commented.You might be connected to his blog too:)

Have I met this person? No.

Do I want to? As much as I want to, it's better for me to leave it this way:)

Will the person know that I'm actually talking about him? Yes, he will. I am 100% sure and I'm waiting for his comment;P

Okay, you must be boring. I'm talking about him all the time. Who is he?

I'm reverting this question to you. Who is he?

As for me, he was someone who has always been there for me.

He is my inspiration and idol in writing and I believe that all compliments towards the way I write (if any)should be directed to him. He has a blog which works like a Chicken Soup for the Soul, his comments are not cliche, he even commented on my first posting after the accusation of having a crush at work while he was actually the one I admired. And though we have never met each other, he knew me better than my other acquaintances:)

To Mr. Blogger, I admire you.

Honestly. Sincerely. With no hidden agenda:)

To all the good ones who have been reading this posting patiently:

I am finding first five bloggers with the accurate answer.

Tokens of appreciation for providing me the name of the blogger and the name of his blog will be given. (it's not big or expensive but it's free)

Clue:

The author of this blog has just come back from Thailand (how do I know? Well, I told you he is my crush)

His favourite food is Miang Kam and not Yakitori. Hehe.

That blog is my Chicken Soup for the Soul:)

Find it:)