Wednesday, October 31, 2012

mia dan malik

Ladies and Gentlemen...this is my niece, Mia and her beloved boyfriend, Malik. Mia is four years old. Malik...well, I'm not so sure about that. Perhaps you can search his brother, the other gangster. 

My mother tells me that Mia a.k.a Edriana Samihah is my favourite niece. Well, I have to admit that she is a bit special than the rest. Mia was born in October; she practically entered this world around two weeks after I celebrated my birthday. But when she was born, she was pre-matured. I remember calling my cousin several times just to ask about their condition.

It has never occur to me that Mia would like pink and would have everything in pink like today. I bought her a pink pyjama and a pink gown but I never thought that she would be Reese Witherspoon in Legally Blonde. But then again...I don't mind about that. She has two brothers and it is good for her to be feminine, don't you think? (How about KL Gangster?)

Since Mia's father is from Malacca, Mia wears kebaya nyonya during Hari Raya. Look at her folks, isn't she the sweetest child? Well, I know I sound as if I'm exaggerating but hey, she is a sweetheart. She reminds me so much of my petite late grandmother:)

I like Robert Pires - I put his surname as my nickname.
I like Jack Bass  - I wrote posts about me and him.

But I have never put any of my crush picture on my birthday cake. 

Mia did. You should see her reaction whenever Malik is on screen. You should also see her reaction when her mother presented this cake to her.  Hah! Malik...Malik... (never Aaron Aziz, always Malik). 

I wonder what would happened if I did the same thing for my birthday two weeks ago. I bet the cake must be illustrated with men (care, it's plural!) pictures - Gianluca Pagliuca, Luke Perry, Keanu Reeves, Luca Cadalora, Jason Isaac, Remy Ishak...wahh!!!

Since there was no birthday cake...shall I? I mean, it is the 30th birthday by the way.
When I jokingly talked to my mother about it, she said,
"Engkau aje dah penuh satu cake tu," and she laughed hard. 


Happy Belated Birthday, Mia -Mak Long Nosha loves you so much!
Great job on the birthday party, dear cousin - I still keep all the pink candies. Sayang nak makan :)

Well, who says that being  single means being lonely, detached, angry, bitter and unapproachable? Perhaps, the person who says that 30 is a makcik should consider the number of nieces she has.

Come on, are you sure you want to die at the age of 29?

Tuesday, October 30, 2012

your morning song

BBQ Chicken Egg Noodles, Black Coffee - No sugar added ;-) by cheryna_27
BBQ Chicken Egg Noodles, Black Coffee - No sugar added ;-),
a photo by 
cheryna_27 on Flickr.
Stop Crying Your Heart Out  by Oasis

Hold up... hold on... don't be scared,
You'll never change what's been and gone.
May your smile... Shine on...
Don't be scared,
Your destiny may keep you warm.

Cos all of the stars have faded away,
Just try not to worry,
You'll see them some day.
Take what you need,
And be on your way,
And stop crying your heart out.

Get up... Come on... why you scared?
You'll never change what's been and gone.

Cos all of the stars have faded away,
Just try not to worry,
You'll see them some day.
Take what you need,
And be on your way,
And stop crying your heart out.

Cos all of the stars have faded away,
Just try not to worry,
You'll see them some day.
Just take what you need,
And be on your way,
And stop crying your heart out.

When all of the stars were faded away,
Just try not to worry,
You'll see us some day.
Just take what you need,
And be on your way,
And stop crying your heart out.
Stop crying your heart out.

This is my morning song. I have this habit of listening to music after listening to Astro Oasis (which will be turned on every morning) before Subuh. The moment I enter the bus, I will put on my purple Beats earphone and click play on this song on my play list. Three times.

Then, before I  step down the bus, I hear the song again. I know, you might be saying that there are better songs than this. You might say, "Eh Sha...tak baca Bismillah ke?" I trust that might be the reason why I'm listening to music. Sometimes it is just like an escape from judgemental comments like that :)

A lady needs a booster. My booster is a black coffee without sugar and the voice of Liam Gallagher screaming Stop Crying Your Heart Out.

What's yours?

cHiSHa cHeRyNa PiRes
writing from the table of Oldtown White Coffe, Ampang Park

Monday, October 29, 2012

my third place

my breakfast - prepared by the coffee master himself

My first place
Seremban, Negeri Sembilan

My second place

Wilayah Persekutuan Kuala Lumpur

According to Ray Oldenburg:
One's "first place" is the home and those that one lives with.

One's "second place" is the workplace where people may actually spend most of their time.

Third place description is quite lengthy in wikipedia; therefore I conclude this as place which is neither the first place (home) and second place (workplace).

Last fortnight, one of my brothers brought me to one of my former third place for breakfast. We were early. The place was supposed to be opened at 10:00 a.m but we were there at 09:15 a.m. Even though the place was about to open around 45 minutes later, the employees were already there. A very young lad at the age around 18 was sweeping the floor and a a lass in her early 20s was wiping the tables. They were both wearing the green apron.

I was wondering about the supervisor in charge but my mind only wandered around 10 minutes. When I saw the person who open the shutters, my heart fluttered. I knew that guy with the black apron. He used to wear a green apron several years ago. He used to sweep the floor like the young lad. He used to wipe the tables.


Tazo Tea Passion used to be my passion
"Kak Sha, ini...Tazo Tea purple akak," a young lad brought a tray. He put the tray on my table. A very interesting fume filled the air. I saw the tip of the teabag. It was purple. I smiled.

The lad pulled a chair and sat beside me. He was smiling while watching my fingers ran through the keyboard. I turned and looked at him, "Ramai customer tak hari ni?"

He shook his head.

"Penat ye?" I asked.
"Biasalah kak. Ni dah tak ada customer. Boleh relax sekejap," he answered.

I sipped the tea while smiling. It was relaxing. My nose were inhaling a nice fruity and earthy smell. When he saw me closed my eyes and relaxed, he smiled.

"Dah habis lah Kak Sha punya trial dengan Tazo Tea, kan? Semua dah rasa?" he asked knowingly.

I grinned and said, "Yup! So, lepas ni nak minum coffee bila datang sini."

He chuckled while pointed at my shoes, 
"Alaaa...iye2 je Kak Sha ni. Nanti datang sini mintak lagi air teh purple ni. Yelah, minah purple."

I laughed aloud.

"Kau ni...macam faham je Kak Sha kan?"
"Apa yang saya tak faham. Bukan sehari dua Kak Sha kat sini. Hampir setiap hari. Apa je yang Kak Sha tak try? Sampai coffee tasting kitorang pun akak join."
"Alaaaaa...aku menempel jelah, Fad," I said.
"Kitorang yang ajak Kak Sha join sekali kan."

I noticed that his mind was not relaxed. I knew this lad for quite sometime. This was not the first time he sat with me after he brought my beverage - coffee, tea, chocolate or even sky juice.

"Kenapa Fad? Ada masalah? Kau tak nampak happy hari ni?" I asked.
"Mana adalah Kak Sha ni."
"Eleeehh...kau ingat Kak Sha kau ni tak tau, Fad?" I teased.

He gave me a forced smile and said, 
"Kak Sha, diorang nak hantar saya cover outlet baru kat Cameron Highlands."

I raised my eyebrows.

"Katanya dalam enam bulan. Risaulah kak. Tak pernah saya kerja jauh-jauh," he tried not to look worried. As a matter of fact, I was still his customer.
I grinned, "Itu je ke?"

He nodded.

"Pergilah, Fad. Semua tempat ada cabaran. Semua tempat ada kebahagiaan. Carilah," I said.
"Kak Sha je sorang cakap macam tu," he grumbled.
"Sebab Kak Sha rasa bahagia tu. Rasa cabaran tu," I gave him a matter-of-fact.
"Merantau kak?" he asked.

I nodded.


"Ehhh..." a guy looked at me with curiousity.

I smiled in my green apron.

"Encik Fadzil, nama saya Sha. New partner," He looked amazed.
"Dah jadi boss saya, mana boleh macam tu?" I teased him.

"Boss, Kak Sha ni..." he pointed at me while looking at the Branch Manager.
"She was our customer, Fadzil. I know. Now, she is under your wing."

During my break time, he asked, "Kenapa Kak Sha?"

"Mungkin kebahagiaan ada kat sini," I smiled at him.

He grinned and taught me on how to make my favourite Green Tea Cream with  Chocolate Chip   Frappucino for Employee Beverage that day.


the black apron
Back to my story earlier. Fad. Fadzil. He was the supervisor in the black apron. The experienced coffee master. The talented barista, manager and mentor to his subordinates.

"One Spicy Chicken Tortilla Set and Venti Salted Caramel Mocha. Low fat," I ordered.

The lad at the cash register was struggling. He was looking at me incredulously.

"You have low fat in there, don't you?"

When I asked that question, the guy from the office came out. I saw him. My barista. My mentor. A former boss. And...a friend. He grinned broadly.

"Mestilah ada Kak Sha. Nak Salted Caramel Mocha? Belum try lagi?" he asked.

"Dekat mana?"
"Great Eastern Mall. Jalan Ampang."
"Kak Sha kerja macam dulu balik?" he asked. I nodded.
"Hmmm...mesti macam dulu lah tu. Balik malam-malam. Penat. Mesti bosan."

I smiled.

"Tapi kan Kak Sha kata, kebahagiaan ada kat mana-mana?" he grinned.

That breakfast was eventually prepared by a coffee master. It was an honour, you know. I won't get that everyday. According to Fad, he was there only for a while to back up the operations.

Fadzil was an example on how a place besides home and workplace could be a third place. It was not because that place was glamorous. I was not trying to portrait that I was rich by saying that I went to Starbucks all the time. It was just that I chose a place where I was comfortable to have my own peace of mind with the presence of a stranger whom eventually became someone you knew well and could be proud of.

When Howard Shultz introduced the concept of Starbucks as a third place, he might not realised that it was actually a success in its own way.

It was Fadzil's personal touch who made me a satisfied customer, a trained barista, and eventually...a proud customer again.

Where is your third place, folks? Please share.

Sunday, October 28, 2012

saya tak makan nasi

ladies and gentlemen, 
is called lompap.

The name is quite funny, don't you think? When I first learned about lompap, I was, what...around 10 years old. This dish came from my father's side. My grandmothers (my father's mother and aunt) were the ones who taught me on how to cook this dish. It was very simple:

Coconut Milk

1. Chop all ingredients (except for coconut milk and salt, of course) and make sure that everything is hygienic.

2. Place chopped ingredients in a pot. Put a quarter cup of water and add salt.

3. Once the ingredients are half cooked, pour the coconut milk and mix.

4. Once cooked, serve it with lemang.

Personally, I feel that this dish is definitely unhealthy. The name is weird. Look at the ingredients. Most people find internal organs are so obnoxious; they tend to forget the names of the organ even though it's a mammal! A  cow is not suppose to have a heart? What is spleen in Malay? What do we call cow's meat in a proper language?

Some of us do not eat cow at all due to several reasons.

Even though I like this dish a lot and I can understand the intention of preventing wastage, I still can't understand why must it be so sinful yet delicious at the same time.

"Love is like trying to figure out a really difficult math problem: the more I think about it, the more confusing it becomes."

Counting calories is hard in a sense that not eating rice might not necessarily make you as someone who prevents things like lompap. It has always been a general judgement that the ingredients in lompap are more dangerous than a plate of rice.

But some says that rice is a big no.

So, which one are you?
Will you eat rice. Or will you eat lompap.

In my case, just because it's Aidiladha, I will eat BOTH.
I have to be appreciative towards the ones who prepare it, right?

Should I tweet to express that I'm on diet to everyone?

Friday, October 26, 2012

suara macam katak purple, nak takbir juga?

Purple Frog

Salam Aidiladha, everyone.

I bet most of you are currently at our hometown; enjoying the company of your loved ones.  For some reason, people from Negeri Sembilan enjoy lemang during festive seasons. If people from the North are enjoying ketupat daun palas, we would prefer to eat lemang. I have that explanation to you, folks. But we'll talk about that later; since there is another memory lane which needs exploring today:)


I was celebrating Aidiladha in school. If I was not mistaken, we were having our exam at that time and because the raya was a midweek celebration, nobody went home. That was the perks of being a boarding school student; you got to be with friends at the time when parents were not around. The time was enjoyed with their company; even the non - Kelantanese warden was single on the day itself; and  food was at its best since the dining hall had no choice but to serve.

When the announcement was made, I was devastated. I wanted to go home very badly since we were allowed to go for weekend holiday only once in a month. I was not being pampered by my parents. Since the food at the dining hall was available and my parents paid for it, I have been given only RM20 per month as my pocket money. Yet, that was the money for my bus fare and I made sure I kept enough balance in order for me to step my foot on Seremban's ground.

But as much as I was not happy about it, my Kelantanese friends felt the utmost frustration. Obviously, they considered that as a predicament since Aidiladha was the day for them. I remember seeing my dorm mates cried when they called their parents, some of them sulked on their bed, and some watched television like nobody's business.

So, everybody minded their own business. Most took the opportunity for laundry and spring cleaning. Me and my gang took the opportunity to paste Backstreet Boys pictures in our scrapbook. Apparently, Kevin Richardson and Nick Carter had this very strong aura which turned me into a "gedik" in today's language.

Nevertheless, there were caring parents who came to school and brought huge containers of food like Laksa Johor, rendang and ketupat. Until today, I'm still grateful to those parents who understood the term called home sick :)

However, there was this group of boys who caught my attention at that time. They sang a better lyrics than "everybody rock your body" called takbir. We had that for three mornings after Subuh and their voice was marvelous. 

Well, in normal circumstances, people might sound like frogs but do you realise that when it comes to holy verses, none of that matter anymore?

As an adolescent there were several things which I failed to realise.  I missed some of the key points like how committed those boys towards the time to perform the takbir, how much patience they had when the microphone was not working or worst, how to make the crowd participate in the takbir itself. Their challenges were not forgotten. I just realised that I'm appreciating it now than it was before.

I was 14. Too young to understand that world would change. Too naive to accept that people would change too.

As a thirty year old lady, I have to admit that there were times when I wanted to go back to the time when I was more than welcome to join the takbir. I would want to hear the voice of my late grandparents who performed takbir in their lifetime. Of course, I was missing the time when I got excited and exclaimed, "Itu suara atuk!"

My seniors, the ones whom I called, "Geng Alim Ulamak" when I was 14 have obviously evolved since then. I saw one of them in the television, I saw their success in Facebook and newspapers and aye, whenever that happened, I recalled the time when they were devoted in performing something simple and nothing for some people yet important.

This memory lane of takbir reminded me of the days when I have not been appreciative. I have to admit that I took matters quite lightly as I thought that things were too simple back then. 

Today, however, I'm appreciating the fact that the house was bought in front of the surau; where takbir is just like school days :)


Thursday, October 25, 2012

berapa kali orgasm?

Lovely Bed
Sometimes I just don't understand things the way they are. 

Sometimes, I pretend not to understand the things which are happening around me.

Most of the times, I only care about the things which are concerning me.

Most of the of the time, I have this habit of putting on my earphone and just listen to the music. 

Sometimes I join the conversation.

Sometimes, I converse with my mind and my heart and leave everything else in the oblivion.

Yesterday was something else. I was not listening to the music.

I was dwelling with my own headache and emotions but I could not helped it when giggles bit my eardrums and when gossips sipped like poisonous signals through my brain cells.

"Kau dapat berapa kali?" one asked..
"Tiga!" the other one answered and giggled.
"Sedap?" one asked.
"Bestlah. Habis dia kena cakar-cakar dengan aku!" the other one giggled again.
"Kau start macam mana?" one asked.
"Lekap-lekaplah sikit, ringan-ringanlah dulu." Giggled. Again.
"Jerit?" one asked.
"Of course! Tiga kali kau! " Giggled. Long. Hard.

Then they paused.

"Sha? Kau dengar ke?" one asked. 

I wanted to answer yes. But...let's not spoil their horny mood. So I took out my purple earphone and showed them.

They grinned.
"Anak dara tak baik dengar tau!" they said in unison.

I grinned and asked myself:
Was it foursome just now?

Selamat Menyambut Khamis Malam Jumaat. 

Wednesday, October 24, 2012

Monday, October 22, 2012

you are so sweet

Lamington Cake @ Cake Sense, KLCC

I was busy, folks. Perhaps you have realised that I have not been around for few days. You were visiting me and I was not visiting you back. I would like to apologize for the inconvinience. As a limited broadband user, I have to always remind myself that there was a limit of my usage. Sometimes I have forgotten the fact that using it for work or to watch a video would cause a slower speed.

This month, it was not controlled. Therefore, my usage of internet was limited to updating my own blog which required hours to do so. So, no blogwalking has been done for the past 3 days. I'm really really sorry.

There were times when I felt that blogging was a way to know who was sincere and who was not.
Who was paying attention.
Who was the one who have guts to say that you were wrong.
Who was the one who was still there regardless your absence.
Who was the one who actually accepted you for who you were.
Who was the one who have been less judgemental.

But then again, that won't be fair. Each and every blogger has different reasons to blog. They have different aspiration and creativity is something objective for us to set up an argument. So, to  say that some people were more sincere and loyal to me was definitely inaccurate and bias:)

However, I was more than happy, folks. The feeling was indescribable when I saw 14 comments on my blog when the article was long, posted during the weekend, and not hip and funny. (7,8- bola ke bunga?) I could not helped it but to crack a naughty grin when I knew that all this 14 was actually paying attention towards the words I have mentioned in my mediocre piece of writing.

Those people were...

Khalilah MNor
Neeza Shahril
Remy hazza
Jna marcello
boni kacak
Len Mullen
Cik Nurul Siezuka
Kesuma Angsana

I would be consider as a liar if I told you that your comments were NOT making me smiled the whole day. I was having my PMs up to the extend of breaking my no MC record this morning and there you were; making me happy by giving attention to the details. I felt appreciated. It was not easy to write about the person I loved with all my heart. Period pain was at its worst - I vomitted, had cramps all over, and ache at the places where I wished won't ache at all ;)

This situation reminded me of the return of Marhamah. She was back to work last week and guess what? For once, I was hugging her so tightly, I was not planning of letting her go. I learned that I missed her so much; up to the extend that I was thinking that letting her go, not seeing her everyday would be one of my biggest challenge.

We were both tired - with work and the recent events in our lives.

One day, I asked Marhamah to follow me to Cake Sense. I wanted her to taste Lamington Cake which I tasted with Rara the other day. We were fortunate. That was the last piece of RM3.50 Lamington Cake sold by Cake Sense. Yippie!

As both of us were sitting down in the LRT, we put the small portions of Lamington Cake in our mouth. We closed our eyes as we went into delirium - it was soft, smooth, chocolate which brought us to the sky, and coconut which landed us softly on our feet. The taste was heaven and it helped us to relax.

Some say that it was the chocolate effect.

I disagree. Aye, chocolate was great. But being with someone who knew you well, paid attention towards the simplest matters made all the difference. Like missing Marhamah for 2 weeks and had her back with Lamington. Like relaxing with Hokkaido Cake with Rara. Like having your comments in my blog and made me aware that it was read.

Recently, I made new friends who knew the exact thing about me by being with me. It brought smile to my face when I woke up in the midst of massive traffic jam on Maju Expressway (MEX), before I go to sleep after a long, tiring and emotional day or when I was curling on my bed after the sanitary pads were changed.It amused me to know that someone noticed that I used "aye" instead of "yes" in my sentence.

Sometimes, your topics might not be similar with the person you were talking to. You might be talking about the purse you saw at Guess and the need to reduce weight so that you can fit the old Somerset Bay Top. He might be talking about trading 3 trainers over a valuable CP Company Goggle Jacket which, in normal circumstances, was none of your concern. But then, it mattered. All of the sudden.

Old friends, new friends. They were like Lamington cake.

Aye folks, I just received a text from the sweetest Lamington Cake just now. It was about one of my favourite books.

Let's save that story then.

I'm closing my eyes - you were too sweet for a person who takes no sugar in her cup of coffee.

Thank you, everyone:)

Saturday, October 20, 2012

7, 8 - bola ke bunga?

Bad Hair Day

I have a story which needs to be told today, and not the other days. It is a story of the person who received my undivided love. A woman who shared my roses, orchids and daisies. A woman who made me believed that love came in every form; including a plant. When she mentioned plant, it was a pot of it; with soil, which could be cultivated and nurtured.

I have been in a boarding school for few years before I went to college. As the time passed by, I eventually realised that I was having lesser quality time with my own mother.

I was jealous with her students!
They spent more time with her than I was :P

My mother has always been the committed person in her life especially when it concerned her work. What impressed me the most was that she was not this type of person who were overly enthusiastic on joining "Lawatan Sambil Belajar ke Kelantan" or this and that expedition. Her belief in a success of one's core business before participating on the smaller portions of KPI was what I have in principles at work. 

Nevertheless, her time in school has never been less than 8 hours. Aye, there might be teachers in my life who only worked from 7:30 am to 2:30 pm a day (with free hours and recess  but she was not one of them. For record, she was my Mathematics and Music teacher for several years :)

What I failed to understand at that time was that as a student, she spent time with ME. As a daughter however, I should find time to spend with her.

That day, I chose to be on my own. I was looking at the flowers in the garden at the same time enjoyed the view of school children in front of me. It was Pertandingan Lalu Lintas sponsored by Shell. When I was in primary I used to join this competition and won it. Therefore, that year, I have made a decision - since my mother was involved, why not just be with her for a while before taking the train back to college?

It was fun. I saw things from the visitor's point of view and I enjoyed the company of my mother tremendously. That was until I heard...

"Cikgu Zakiah kan tu?" a male voice behind me was talking about my mother.
"Betullah Cikgu Zakiah," said the other.

I turned and saw a couple of twins behind me and pointed at that lady in front of me. Hey, that was my mother.

Frankly, I considered those twins as...cute. They might not meet the specifications of Chisha Cheryna Pires, but...aye, they were cute. Sweet. I saw girls around them giggling while my thoughts were wandering. Why were they talking about my mother? When my mum turned, the twins I saw just now went to her and kissed her hands. Eh?

There. The most beautiful women smiled proudly while patting their backs. I heard them calling her, 
"Cikgu Zakiah."

I shrugged. Well, that was normal. My mother was an extraordinary teacher. She had that all the time :)

That moment have passed until we saw the twins again at the commuter station. They kissed my mother's hands again. The second time made me felt that there must be something about my mother that they loved so much. They finished school already. My mother was their primary school teacher. We have seen in several occasions folks, that people forgot their teachers yet those twins bothered to come to my mother. I was envious, thinking that they looked so comfortable with my mother; they even teased her and made her laugh.

I looked at them with my unblinking eyes.

"Budak-budak ni dah makin handsome. Dah pergi merata-rata," my mother said with a smile.
I took the advantage of asking further, "Anak murid ibu?"
She nodded, "Sorang ketua, sorang penolong ketua kelas. Semua cikgu marah aku sebab muka diorang kan sama, mana boleh beza?" 

I laughed. My mother, the cheeky one - at home and at work.

An advertisement eventually opened my eyes. Those twins that I saw on television and on a poster had eventually played for Negeri Sembilan. Those were the twins I saw at the competition; at the commuter station and at the mall. Those were the boys who made my mother laughed the other day!

"Diorang ni, anak murid ibu ke?" I asked my mother while we were watching television. She smiled while nodded approvingly.

"Sekarang dah top. Dah nak main untuk Malaysia dah. Ibu tak cerita pun?" I asked.

"Itu pencapaian diorang. Diorang yang kuat nak berjaya. Aku ni cikgu diorang aje," she answered simply. I frowned. I was not buying her statement. I knew there was something else.

That was when my brother told me about those twins. They were both strikers who wore number 7 and 8 since school days before the teachers to bring one of them to the defense. My mother, the strong one, was one of the female referee during the football matches. Apparently, she was like a general in school - where boys liked her better because of her knowledge in sports. I raised my eyebrows when everyone, excluding me, complimented her coolness. Wait, she played football too? Sure that was MY mother?

I was waiting for her to take the credit yet she never did. Even my father thought that it was just a story until he met the football stars in person. Eventually, he had to admit that those twins were humble enough to those they respected. Regardless the looks, the wealth, the health, and last but not least, the popularity.

She never commented on the path that they chose - especially the personal ones. I knew that she was hurt when she heard or read about them, yet, she was still calm. Thousands of people went to the stadium to support the team, she was one of them. Yet, she kept cheering for them, her students, regardless the team they were playing for.

30 years of age. 30 years of being her only daughter.
How could I deny the fact that she was a great supporter to those she loved? 
Especially her children. 
Especially her students who have been treated like her own children.

We were watching Untuk 3 Hari last week when she commented,
"Cantik bunga ros atas kepala Ayu Raudhah tu."

The lover of flowers. My mother. Cikgu Zakiah.

I teased her, "Hari tu masa press conference nak masuk mahkamah, Rita Rudaini pon pakai bunga kat kepala. Taknak puji ke bu?"

She raised her eyebrows, "Aku sokong anak-anak murid aku je."

I grinned at her. My mother. The teacher. A woman. A mother. A gossiper? 
Maybe not. I need to make sure that I inherit this trait from her.

All the best to Aidil Zafuan and Zaquan Adha.
Thank you for respecting your teacher.  You're not just another football player:)

Friday, October 19, 2012

dari atas, bawah, depan, belakang

Hokkaido Cake @ Suria KLCC

I was having this Hokkaido Cake from Cake Sense one hectic evening with one of the girls. Co-incidentally, it matches the the pattern of Rara's top. See?

We were overwhelmed with several issues and sentiments; we planned not to spend too much on our "Kopi-Kopi Session" yet we were still drinking and munching the best baked goods. Cake Sense has always been our option due to our addiction towards Lamington Cake (which I will tell you later, folks). 

But at this period, when this picture was taken, it was Hokkaido Cake instead. The soft, spongy cake with Strawberry filling was consumed on one of the benches in KLCC.

It was a moment of silence; we were both engrossed with our own emotions until I looked...

A girl was wearing a white panties and black Sailor Moon skirt on the upper level. She was sitting with her legs wide open and her boyfriend's hand lingered on her thigh.

A metrosexual guy was having a conversation with the other 2 men, who apparently, looked so casual when he was adjusting his boxers in front of them

A boy was playing with his iPad while glancing at the boobies who passed by.

A girl in baju kurung and nice shawl was running her fingers between her boyfriends's leg.

I was asking myself: 
Sumptuous Erotica was a blog right? Why did I see the posts in a day, in front of me?

"Dik, jangan tangkap gambar dalam KLCC!!!" 

A lady security guard scolded me from behind. Then she left.

I looked around and saw the foreigners were happily seizing the moment with their DSLR.

Well, was it wrong to use a Galaxy Note?

Selamat Hari Jumaat everyone :)

Thursday, October 18, 2012

malam pertama macam mana? no bra?

National No Bra Day 13 Oct 

"How's the sex?" somebody asked my colleague the moment he returned to work. 

His face was red like a cooked lobster. A naughty grin decorated his face. He murmured something to the other person and they laughed like rough necks. I never knew what they were talking about and obviously, I never bothered :)

Another colleague got married and the moment she entered the door, people asked her,

"Macam mana?"
"Amacam, dah ke?"
"Sedap tak?"
"Muka letih je. Buat apa malam tadi?"
"Sekarang tinggal dengan siapa? Dengan mak lagi ke?" while they were giving her a meaningful stare.

Some people did not asked her directly, they asked me instead,

"Sha, dia jalan lurus tak?"
"Macam mana? Ada perubahan?"
"Dia ada cerita apa-apa dengan kau?"

Well, it was all about sex. It was not written anywhere, stated or sounded S.E.X but we all knew what it was all was about. Itu means sex. Ini means sex. Sedap means sex.

In this very cultured and polite environment, we tend to use the nicest words for sex. Metaphors were mostly used with extreme care and flowery sentences. Kapal terbang, bas, tanah...those were the whimsical items used to illustrate the activities on a mattress (if I was done on a mattress lah!)

Based on the modernisation of literature, some of us are daring enough to use the "cultured" yet straightforward words like inzal, senggama, pancutan. Our mothers might not approved the usage of the languages but then again, the understanding that it was better than horny, fuck, and ejaculation made everything sounded nicer in Malay.

But then again, who am I to judge?
Sex is indeed a very broad topic to discuss.

But I'm not here to discuss sex.

I'm here to ask you a question, that of all the things that we are supposed to ask a newly-weds  should we ask about the sex? Is it necessary? Are you one of those who were asking? 

I refer to the post that I've blogged 2 years ago called beneath the satin and the lace:

Amoi: Miss, mau beli bla?
Me: Diskaun?
Amoi: 30%, Miss.
Me: Okay..apa ada?
Amoi: Ini miss...(she showed me a half cup push ups). I gulped.

My boyfriend at that time saved the day.

Sepet: Moiii...takkan isteri saya mau pakai push up? Mau push brapa tinggi lagi, maaa?
Amoi: Hehehe. (The Amoi laughed quietly and blushed)
Sepet: Biasa punya tak ada?
Amoi: Ada...ada...(she showed me bras without wire)
Sepet: Wire tak ada? (while touching below the cup of the bra. The Amoi's face turned red!)
Amoi: Pakai wire ke miss? (by this time the amoi was as red as butter prawn dish!)
Sepet: Mestilah. Nanti jatuh maa...(he grinned wickedly at the Amoi. I pinched him)
Amoi: Betul...betul...saiz apa, Miss?
Me: **B.
Amoi: Sikijap...sikijap...(She went through the stacks of bras. Then she showed me an apple green satin. I smiled.)
Me: Amoi..ada colour lain tak? (I felt embarass about apple green)
Sepet: Amoi...colour purple, pink, biru tak ada?
Me: Uiiikkkk....??? (I looked at him incredulously. Those are my favourite colours!)
Sepet: Jangan nak pakai colour makcik ye! I know you want that grey one. Tak boleh. (he grinned)
Me: Macamlah you yang pakai...
Sepet: Itu oren tak bolehlah, Amoi. Itu untuk Deepavali.
Amoi: Ada sweet punya. Colour purple-pink. Boleh tak, encik?
Sepet: Cun!
Amoi: (grinned from ear to ear - but she still blushed)
Sepet: Tapi kan, you bagi dia **B. One size bigger.
Amoi: Apasal encik?
Sepet: Itu cutting kecik...tak sesuai.(I knew I looked horrified even though I didn't look at the mirror)
Amoi: Okay...
Me: Mana you tau?
Sepet: Adalah! I selalu teman my mum and my sisters.
Me: Not the other girlfriends ek? (jealousy crept into my system)
Sepet: Hooohh...this requires years of experience okay!

I tried the bra and agreed to buy. Surprisingly, it fit me well. While my boyfriend looked at something else, the Amoi said to me, "Suami you pandai pilih!"

I smiled. (of course I didn't tell her he was not yet my husband!)
Amoi then told me, "Selalu suami malu-malu mau beli. Tapi sekarang saya malu-malu mau jual!"

Bra was just part of our daily attire. In the modern day, it was a must. But still, our culture felt that buying a bra was supposed to be a discreet activity where it was meant to be participated by mothers, aunties, close friends and not a boyfriend or a husband.

I would say that within 2 years of writing this post, the world has turned a bit. If previously, people would be running away from the topic, now, it's different.

There was a tweet about National No Bra Day which was held on 13 October (which was my birthday). I Googled about it and found out that it was mostly about the Breast Cancer Awareness Month which was in the month of October itself. Part of the prevention from the disease was to ensure that we wear the right type of bra and to take care of our two watermelons, papayas, oranges, or grapes (now, I'm being cultured) very carefully.

I have blogged about this two years ago and apparently the awareness was not that great back then. On October 13, however, people came out with a No Bra Day - which turned out to be funny and horny yet raised the awareness and not just the eyebrows or any male organs.

Tonight, it's "Khamis malam Jumaat".

I learned from the past experience of working, that I should go home early as no one would be staying back. But deep in my heart, I wished that even though sex was a topic not to be discussed in public, people would start to care about health. 

Aye, it was fun. It was naughty to ask about sex as an activity. Breasts were the most obvious part of a woman's body, I agree for some woman, aye. 

But...rather than talking about playing with the breasts, it is netter to buy your loved ones quality bras so that they can take care of them, don't you think?

Besides, the National No Bra Day was just for a day. Not days.

Love your woman, folks!
Buy good bras.

Wednesday, October 17, 2012

reblog: the beggar from starbucks

A couple of years ago, when I was a barista, I used to keep the first paper cup which I used to make my first latte. It was a symbol of confidence; whereby every time I glanced at the tall size paper cup, I would think of the time when I was not as handy or as competent as I thought I was. 

Those days were tough. Prepping the coffee was a privilege. The beginning of my career was filled with the days of sweeping and cleaning. There was no difference between me and the Bangladeshi who worked at the fast food restaurant nearby. Both of us had our degree and were not really stupid or useless.We were just jobless and helpless. Regardless, we tried hard to make ourselves reliable.

I remember the days when I used to change clothes at the boutique where I used to shop. Before I fell into that situation, I used to buy some work attires from the boutique. I was a customer. Later on, I had to work really hard just to get a handkerchief for myself. Nothing was affordable in the boutique even though the boutique belongs to a friend. 

Money, from my point of view at that time, was one of the most powerful tool to make someone weak at heart. If I was not strong enough during that period, I would have succumbed to the cruel facts of life.

But I was lucky. The time when I was working two jobs in a day had passed for 2 years now. Those days of getting up early in the morning, went through the hassle of teaching students in a secondary school where nobody wanted to learn were finally drew its final curtain. Those rushing days of getting to a coffee shop to perform the later-of-the-day-duty have finally taken its toll. 

Alhamdulillah. I finally got a job and eventually managed to expand my career. But never...ever...I would forget the times when I was a teacher, a cleaner, and a daughter - all at once in a day.Yes, I was lucky, folks. I was too lucky. Each time I remember the times when people spat on the floor that I swept, I would feel this huge lump in my throat. Those thoughts made me stronger and wiser:

"We're not always lucky in life and the biggest test will be given to the toughest people."

After 2 years of leaving those days behind, I was still having fears. Fears of living that kind of life again; thinking how difficult it was to be looked down upon each day. Being a barista was not that bad, but being a teacher was worst. 

Some teachers were not human. The term GSTT was too disgusting to them; they thought that what happened to me would never happened to their own children. Well, sorry teachers, not all of you were harmful. My parents were teachers too, but what happened back then - the jeers and leers and the proud exclamation were still at the back of my mind. Some people just thought that life would remain constant like a northern star. They were definitely wrong. 

 This evening, I saw a beggar sitting in front of the escalator at LRT station near Central Market. I have been seeing him for quite some time. He was an Indian man. I was unsure of his own religion and I never bothered to ask. What was so special about him was that he reminded me a lot about my life. The times when leftovers looked delicious. He reminded me about how lucky I was because the GSTT or barista were better than a profession called a beggar. 

He was different. I knew I sounded so naive by saying this. There were several beggars in KL; we would never knew whether that person might be under a syndicate or just lived a hard life. But have you heard this: the eyes were the part of our body which would never lie? Unless he was a good actor, his eyes were different. 

We could tell that some times beggars were not sincere but what he showed me was a plea - either he was begging me to help so that he could survive or he was begging because he would want to survive from those bad people who hurt him. I didn't know, folks. But I did know that he was one of those people whom I never hesitated to help even though it was just a coin of 20 in my pocket.

I was not trying to say that I was kind. I was just...drawn to give. For some reason. Maybe it was his paper cup. Unlike my yellowish paper cup, his was torn and empty. Well, maybe people thought that he was just lying. But for me, he didn't have to be in the same race or religion with me. He was just another human who had worst paper cup than mine.

It has been months now since the first time I saw him at the same spot on the back from work. His paper cup was getting worst. I often wondered whether something could be done for him. He was sick! I knew he'll lose his eye sight - sooner or later. He lost his legs already. My assumption was that he might have diabetic. Things must be really difficult

 ...And there was a man, sitting beside me over dinner this evening; and complained about his job - non-stop! Over a plate of tasty nasi goreng kampung, I was hearing stupid...stupid confession. 
 "Saya malas betul nak buat kerja...buat apa, buang masa..." he said to me once. 

He declined to do any tasks given, bad mouthing his colleagues, lepaking at any time he could, smoking during work, over utilised his leave and medical entitlements...well, what else could I say? And he drank from a glass.

Didn't he realised that the glass could turned into a torn paper cup?

Being a barista was as difficult as being a teacher.
No job was easy.
Keep calm and observe - it's not just about coffee.

Monday, October 15, 2012

buku jalanan untuk 30 tahun 1 hari

Afdlin Shauki

Everyone was talking about the movie Untuk Tiga Hari which has been premiered by Astro First recently. Frankly, this was the only movie by Afdlin which has been watched via television and not in a cinema. I'm sorry Afdlin, work has taken too much time in my hands, personal matters were too precious to be left behind.

However, I believe that the purchase of Untuk Tiga Hari via Astro First would still make the producer happy. I have always been his fan and I hope that I won't miss the other just  this one.

Honestly, watching Untuk Tiga Hari reminded me of watching Sepi. Perhaps it was due to the combination of Vanidah Imran and Afdlin Shauki in both movies. Sometimes I even wonder whether the characters in Sepi and Untuk Tiga Hari were meant to be for Afdlin since he carried both with finesse. It could never be perfected without his presence; his physical attribute made chubby looked charming, his humour, his groove and the other things which stated:

That is so Afdlin!

Have you ever thought of being that type of person, folks?
Wherever you go, people recognised you for who you were.

For example:
Doodle from Cikgu Ma
Kalau tengok purple je, ingat blog Cik May
Kalau tengok doodle pakai tudung je, ingat Cikgu Ma.
Kalau nampak orang handsome je ingat Boni Kacak.
Kalau tengok gambar mangga je ingat Kak Dinas Aldi.
Kalau tengok komen yang mendalam je, ingat Kak Wantie, and Kengkawan.
Kalau nampak GA je, ingat dekat Remy hazza.
Kalau tengok style kiut je ingat kiera sakura, Len Inouie, Jna Marcello.
Kalau tengok perkataan Batak je ingat Kak Wahida.
Kalau bajet2 nak tulis benda yang mencabar minda sikit, ingat LydSunshine, apple.
Kalau ingat Tony Roma's ingat Kak Dee sayang.
Kalau ingat England, ingat Lady Windsor.

Kalau...kalau apa lagi? Siapa lagi ni....?

Oh my...I just provided examples and I just hope that I mentioned everyone:P

Now that most of you already knew how young Cheryna a.k.a Sha was, I would like to share with you the happening of my life when I reached 30 years old and 1 day yesterday:

Buku Jalanan Seremban.

There was an event initiated by the inspiring youngsters called Buku Jalanan. I joined Buku Jalanan Seremban, of course, since I'm staying in Seremban. You may find number of Buku Jalanan in Facebook - Buku Jalanan Titiwangsa, Buku Jalanan Shah Alam etc. This event was held in Seremban 2 City Park from 5pm to 7pm yesterday :)

Lejen Press Books

One of the itinerary  was book sales by Lejen Press. You could see in the picture the books that they sold yesterday - Lelaki Eksistensial, Awek Chuck Taylor and Bayang - the books written by Nami Cob Nobbler. We even met the author yesterday. Aisa Linglung, the author of Sperma Cinta was there as well. I got the autograph on my books. Yeay!

Reading materials

Those were the books you could read at the park and borrow until the next event. Personally, I was thinking that the next time I attend Buku Jalanan, I should bring along the reading materials that I wanted to contribute for this event. Wait...I'll do it one day to support them :)

Our entertainment - the talented lad
While reading, we got to hear the music and poetry. It felt like being in the Dead Poet Society! Yippie!

The new book - limited edition
And this was my latest acquisition. that capal or ciggy or the lighter. And that was my old shoes. I purchased Bola and demanded for Nami's signature straight away :)

In overall, I enjoyed my birthday.

Now, you tell me, if you are going to say, "That is so Cheryna!" what are the things which are going to cross your mind, folks?

What are things which can make me remember you and say..."That is so You!"

Saturday, October 13, 2012

13 October 1982

credit to Ultras Malaya, 13102012, Facebook.

I was born  and raised with the knowledge that there was a Prime Minister by the name of Margaret Thatcher. My parents insistence on having me equipped with language skills forced me to read. I remember the time when my mother made me read Berita Harian and The Star everyday in front of her. Little did I knew that those hardship of adapting to her criticism made me the person I am today.

I have always thought that a Prime Minister should have been a man. I was born during the era of Mahathir. As a young girl, it has appeared to me that a small man would be able to become a Prime Minister. A woman never would. 

One day, it has occurred to me that Margaret Thatcher was not just a fictional character. As a five year old, I was absorbed with the knowledge that a birthday should be celebrated. I dreamed of getting presents and cakes and trips to A&W to drink float - something prohibited and controlled by my parents.But my ibu, as usual, made a big fuss of getting something without even struggling for it. One day, I was asked to read about those people who was born on the 13th of October.

That was the day, 25 years ago, I learned that you could wear a skirt to manage a country. I learned as well that beauty was not a success guarantee. 

Several years have passed, several wars and soldiers deployed, several tragedies happened, several trophies won, and numerous of sweet memories were created.

I live to learn that I'm also sharing the same birthday with Ian Thorpe; who was born as a large baby and had sideline cases due to his allergy to chlorine. He has won five gold medals in Olympic - despite the early life stories which was totally unfavourable.

I grew up being a dreamy girl who watched Grey's Anatomy and Private Practice without knowing that Dr. Addison Montgomery; my favourite character, was played by Kate Walsh who was also born on the 13th of October.

The star experts indicated that Libra was a sign for people who loved artistic work and design; who has the skills for psychology; who has the tendency of being a politician (based on the preference of doing social work and diplomacy skills) as well as lawyers.

Perhaps the study was based on the knowledge that several people who was borned in October were people like Margaret Thatcher and several other politicians; not to mention Lee Harvey Oswald, the sniper who killed John F. Kennedy. This was also the month when Shah Alam was declared as a "Bandaraya" or a city. In 1976, on this particular day, Yayasan Pembangunan Ekonomi Islam Malaysia (YaPEIM) was formed for the Muslims.

Eminem, Chatherine Zeta Jones, and the late Luciano Pavarotti were the examples of artist born under this star. Well, those were my favourites.

Well, how about football? For your information, Wes Brown, Gabriel Agbonlahor and Scott Parker are celebrating their birthday today.

But, let's put that aside, shall we?

Sometimes, we got overwhelmed with big things, globally recognised stuff, glamorous E! Channel news without looking at the  precise and precious thing in front of us. 

I'm sorry for not being able to write about Malaysian history or politicians or the artists. Perhaps later next year when more researches work on writing articles or update the Malaysia wikipedia, I would do something like that. Perhaps a crazy blogger might come out with a more popular blog than Beautiful Nara about the Malaysian history. Then, hopefully, we shall be able to look into having that in my moderate piece of writing over here; which I pray, will continuously improve.

On this date, five years ago, Ultras Malaya was born by males who, from my own perspective, believed in "greatness comes from madness". They might not share the same inspiration like I did but they shared the same thoughts in supporting football. Frankly, I have been the observant of their unity. I remember times when people like my brothers lost their voices in the stadium or the situation where they had few RMs in their pockets yet they left for Jalan Besar, Singapore.

Well, not everyone believed in this, yet it was never harmful to just try and persuade people to support Malaysian football without necessarily joining any group or clubs. Sometimes, we craved for the sense of belonging too much and compromised our capability.

Sometimes, without people noticing it, I was there in different headgear (that was not limited to tudung bawal) and joined in when they they chanted. When they expanded to the state ultras, I recalled the time when my own bloodline joined the crowd without the weariness of bad perception.

I was just one unnoticeable female in a huge crowd of males;yet I was proud. Yesterday, just like the other days, somebody asked about the t-shirt that I wore in my picture. I sniffed and mentioned the same script over and over, "Datang ajelah. Tak ada t-shirt hitam pon menyokong juga."

"Being powerful is like being a lady. If you have to tell people you are, you aren't."
- Margaret Thatcher 

From 5 men to 5000 men and hopefully to 50,000; from nobody to Majalah 3 celebrities - they are celebrating their fifth birthday today.

And guess what, folks? They went above the celebrities, politicians and whomever I mentioned earlier. At least for me. Don't you dare ask why :)

Okay, enough of the lengthy posting. My acquaintance mentioned that his wife got pregnant and he just got the result today. A sad news of Azrai Khor leaving Negeri Sembilan is still leaving me in a feeling I can't describe. My father's devastation is another part to handle :)

The number is 13 - some consider this as unlucky. 
October was a tragedy for Awie.

Happy birthday to me.
Happy birthday Ultras Malaya.
...and others:)

Congratulations Papa Kopi. Congratulations Freddie.
Au Revoir Coach Azrai Khor.
Terima Kasih Ayah dan Ibu. With Love.

Walk on!

cHiSHa cHeRyNa PiReS

Friday, October 12, 2012

hijabista and sneakers

cheryna @ Stesen LRT Pasar Seni , Wednesday 10102012 - 8:20 a.m

I took this picture while I was waiting for the LRT and uploaded this into my Instagram. Guess what? 

The first reaction was from my friend who asked me on how did I managed to snap this picture without them noticing it.

It was simple. I was using my phone for something else too and nobody knew that I was actually capturing this nice view of ladies in hijab. 

Another friend said, "Siap pakai sneakers biru tu!" I wanted to laugh. Those beautiful girls were very young. You could sense it, you could see it. 

I didn't know where those ladies were heading too. All I knew was that I was having this feeling the moment I saw that the whole platform was full of hijabsters that morning: "Aku ni dah mati ke dah nak mati?" 

The feeling was undescribable :)

Today, less words will be said. I'm enjoying Friday and here's a little message: 
"It's better to have an enemy who admits that they hate us, instead of a friend who secretly put you down."