Witchcraft is also practiced in Malaysia by Bomohs and Ustazs. Oh yes, Ustazs. You 'modern' people would think witchcraft is a pile superstitious mankydot but by all means, it'd worked wonders. Why you ask? Well, nature is the sustenance of life and has been used in medicine to cure all physical illnesses. Nature could also be harvested for herbs and spices that could render one's state of mind, manipulating emotions and distracting pain.
I'm not encouraging the hiring of Bomoh but what to do lah. There are plenty of Jinns sent in by invisible PosLaju to our doorstep to distrupt our lives. Supply-Demand. Orang Melayu kan tak senang tengok orang lain senang. Tengok orang puteh senang ok. Minda dijajah lagi nak buat macam mana.
Whatever it is, it to be reminded that God is beyond all repertoire of delusion.
God is Great.
Glory Hole is also a special feature in public facilities. Holes in public toilet's cubicles/partition.
We'd also inherited some of our parents' habit. I apparently inherited my Umi's never-dying principle, my Bapak's sense of self-doubt and my Ayah's onion-like planning. It's scary sometimes; knowing that these bits of habits that had made them suffer from time to time will be passed on to me. Will I have to go through difficulties brewed my their personalities? Will I have to get divorced a couple of times, self-doubt myself to a point where I question my religion and plan my own downfall under the assumption that Life is plannable?
I studied my habits and traits and planned out a regime that will untilize all these habits effectively so these traits will co-exist with one another and under best circumstances, turn them into gold, only to realized that I'm already using all three of these prominent habits. I'm self-doubting my incoming downfall, I'm planning to gradually improvise my habits, under the core principle of my future assurance of Personal Satisfaction. A vacuum in another vacuum.
By simply praying.
Aah... I remembered my first chinese girlfriend. *glances into glitzy photoshop moment* Stephanie was a year older than me, a school prefect and an excellent public-speaker. I was young, unblemished, slightly adrogynous and extremely curious. She was an annoying do-gooder. I was a dark broody piece of insecure bologna. Shakened by the recent tahfiz escape, I was shy to even bask myself onto the light of small-talks. I coiled, shrunk and dissapeared into my seat until greeted by a sepet-than-life girl with a slit the class refers as a smile.
"Hi! I'm Stephanie! What's your name?"
"Afiq, what's yours?"
"I'd just told you, silly!"
From there on, we became inseperable. Imagine that. A malay boy and a chinese girl. No biggie right?
Wrong! She came from a strict Chinese Roman Catholic family and I hailed from a very typical urban malay family. We were both schooled in a Roman Catholic private school. As years proceeds, our relationship became more obvious; both of us participated in public-speaking and poem-recitation competitions, we both became prefects and would do anything in school together. We were positively negative. It was understandable to me then because all the malay boys in the school were trouble-makers who would never converse in english or mingle with the majority chinese kids. (maybe they were afraid of betraying their own kin?? maybe.)
We got so many attentions from teachers and students alike, so much so that the headmistress personally called my mom to relinquish her tight-ass queeziness about this matter.
"Do you know that your son is befriending a chinese girl in school."
"You mean Stephanie. Oh yes, my son told me about her."
"And you're alright with their relationship."
"Yes, she's a good girl."
I appreciated our differences and had no difficulty coping with everything that came our way. The class and our class teacher accepted and approved our relationship. But some teachers, the headmistress, PTA members and parents made a ruckus out of us. I was labelled as a parasite, sucking Stephanie's academic excellence (she was never excellent academically to begin with) and polluting her conservative Roman Catholic upbringing.
I aced my PMR. She didn't.
That was enough to rectify irrelevant speculations about my role in the relationship we were in. They (the group of Jesus loving preachers) took action and did everything in their powers to convince Stephanie that her failure was due to me. It was MY fault that she got only a few As.
All non-chinese staff members congratulated me. Stephanie began withdrawing herself from me. I was then known as "The Boy Who Got All As Because He Was Stephanie's Boyfriend."
Fucktards. Do they think for a second that I was offended by their Holy judgement?
After the long holidays, she was officially baptized and added a new middle name. And returned to school with a stone of a face. She smiled sourly at me, 360 degrees from her usual \(^___^)/ during recess and gave me a Hallmark bookmark with a small attempted cursive "Friends Forever" written on the bottom before her quirky signature. And that was it. Our friendship frozed, cracked and disintergrated.