We Malaysians are celebration junkies. Deeparaya, Gong Xi Raya, Christmas Raya, you name it. We can't have enough of it! Notably, we Malaysian Muslims are not short of celebrations.

We celebrate festivities that commemorate an end of an important event. This celebration is commonly known as Kenduri Kesyukuran. After finishing projects, semesters or a duration of hard work, it is acceptable that we celebrate by socializing, reminiscing funny stuff that happened during the project, preparing food (like barbecue) and feasting together.

Muslims celebrate Muslim holidays like AidilFitri and AidilAdha. AidilFitri is to celebrate Muslims' success all around the globe for finishing Ramadhan, the fasting month. AidilAdha is for us to remember the story of Prophet Ibrahim and Propet Ismail and to re-enact the sense of sacrifice by slaughtering cows and goats to be distributed among family, friends and those who are unfortunate.

Makan-makan. Makan-makan commands no extra definition. We can have any reason to cook for 20 people and invite them to our house to enjoy a feast. It can be that Cik Senah accidentally bought 20 grilled chickens from the pasar malam or Pak Badul accidentally ordered 20 pizzas from Pizza Hut. And what better way to respond to accidents than making it a memorable get-together for friends and family.

Oh yeah, my personal favourite: birthdays! Although as we get older, birthdays becomes more and more boring and presents diminishes by the year but birthdays are the only time we feel special and cherished. But these days, I don't look forward to birthdays anymore because I hardly get any presents. I know, it's the wish that matters but can you blame me for thinking that the most important aspect of birthdays are the presents?

Beautiful buildings, spectacular views and other marvels in this world can also be celebrated to show our appreciation to the creator of all things. A simple Subhanallah, a few camera clicks or in my case, a full-length video caption of details are fitting ways to celebrate. Even a good morning shower can be celebrated with a macarena dance routine.
Ehhhhh Macarena, Aieeegh!

With so many kinds of celebration permissable by Islam, I think it is rather weird that we celebrate festivities that has no historical connection or even a simple sense of personal solace.

Take Halloween. Many of my friends are heads over heels to attend TGIF Halloween party, pardon, my muslim friends. Should Malaysians celebrate Halloween? Should muslims celebrate Halloween?

As Hafidz wrote, we CAN if we want to. And is it a harvest festival? No, not in here it's not. We have harvest festivals around May and June for Sabah and Sarawak. In Sabah, we call it Pesta Ka'amatan and in Sarawak, Gawai Dayak. In October, the whole country will experience heavy rain and this is when the soils are rejuvenated for next year's farming.

Well Izzati, we live in an era where people can think it's okay with this and that based on their personal beliefs and their status as muslims. But let me ask you something, will you let a person with no experience in medicine to perform surgery on your mother? Or will you trust a person who has no prior mechanical training to fix your car? Why is Islam any different? What you think matters but what you feel how Islam respond to certain situation is not.

Halloween holiday is certainly Pagan in origin; some might even venture to call it satanic in nature. Halloween originated as the Druid feast of Samhain, the Celtic god of the dead. On this day the dead were supposed to come back to the earth for the night. To prevent evil spirits from lingering on the earth too long, the spirits were offered a meal to appease them. On this night people also lit large bonfires to scare the spirits and they also disguised themselves so that individual spirits would not recognize them and do them harm for differences they may have had in their past life. This is where the present day tradition of trick-or-treating originated. (Islamic Information Centre of America's website)
I checked wikipedia and I found that it is also an autumn harvest festival. Malaysia? Autumn?

So why conform our way of life by celebrating something that is inherently foreign and even conflicts with our Islamic beliefs? I do not condemn westernization or what some of us rather call globalization but celebrating Halloween which falls 2 days after the end of Syawal is just so out of place. Is this how we mourn the end of Syawal?

There are certain western cultures that we can adapt and pagan ritual celebrations is not one of them. With Malaysia's abundance of holidays and celebrations, I don't see why we should celebrate Halloween unless there are pagans and Celtics in Malaysia. Maybe then we can go to their homes and indulge a bit in their culture. But that's obviously not the case. (Read the previous sentence twice for better understanding) Sure we can wish people who celebrate it but seriously guys, you and I know that there aren't enough pagans here to fix a lightbulb

So here I am, dumbfounded by how some people would justify Halloween in Malaysia with an oriental sigh "Aiya..." .

15 Things

I was tagged. Dumdumdum. Via e-mail lagi.

1. My fav band is Jonas Brothers, Busted and Linkin Park.

2. I listen to Morning Has Broken by Cat Steven every morning.

3. I will carry a book everywhere I go (just in case lah)

4. I only read TheStar

5. I have a crush on Haikal like forever. He knows this and is okay with it.

6. Not everybody knows that we are actually just good friends.

7. I've been wearing braces since I was 17.

8. I rent 6 CDs from Ezy Video every week.

9. I have 5 ex-girlfriends.

10. My favourite dessert is Tapai with vanilla ice cream

11. I like, no, love curry.

12. I'm

Auntie Saras

When I was 7, my whole family had to go my father's PERKEP programme so they asked a long time domestic helper, Auntie Saras to take care of me for a week. She agreed and took me in without any hesitation. You see, she loved me like her own child because I grew up watching her iron our clothes and blabbering words so I could remember them.
Under her care, I would asked everything different about their home. "Kenapa patung tu ada banyak tangan? Kenapa gajah tu muka macam perempuan? Kenapa ada air atas pintu tu Auntie Saras?" and Auntie Saras would casually answer "Itu air untuk tuhan minum." only to be countered with a smart alleck reply like "Bukanlah, tu proses penyejatan." Yoges, Aunty Saras younger daughter sniggered, grabbed my hands and took me to her secret lab. It wasn't much of a lab. It was a small space in between two shady potted plants where she melts her plasticine and mix it with multicoloured dust whe stole from the neighbour's house.
I watched intently before Prem, Yoges's older brother claimed that is it his turn to play with me. We sat on a swing and he asked "Mau pegi mana?" and my usual answer was London, Paris, Turkey or Zimbabwe. "Prem, kenapa pergi Turkey lagi lama dari London?" Prem scratched his head and answered "Turkey kena naik unta, London by plane." "Oh...."
Dinner was amazing as usual and odd questions like "Kambing ni halal ke Auntie Saras?" didn't deter me from getting seconds. The entre is usually rassam and the main course is always mutton. Mutton curry, spiced mutton, mutton soup, mutton kurma and the occasional ayam goreng kunyit just in case I got bored of eating mutton. How can anyone ever get bored of mutton? After meals, Auntie Saras will get a tupperware of homemade sweets from a cupboard and forced some into my mouth. I wondered why she did that that so I asked. "Sebab nanti makan banyak sangat gigi rosak." she smiled broadly, revealing her perfect set of teeth.
Prem had to sleep outside because I was sleeping on his bed. For a week he had prepare his toto at the living room, tuck me in, pack the toto and make my bed in the morning.
"Afiq!!!!" Yoges's older sister shouted from the kitchen.
"Huh?" I answered sleepily.
"Sudah azan dalam radio. Pegi sembahyang!"
"Cepat, nanti tuhan Afiq marah!"
On Friday, Uncle Sam picked me up from his home and drove me and Prem to the mosque and asked Prem to wait for me outside the mosque and walk me home. On our way to home, he took a little detour to a convinience shop and bought me a Tora pack but kept the chocolate balls in his pockets. Just before we reach Auntie Saras's home, I saw Bapak's car at a curb. Prem piggybacked me and ran like a deranged athelete. "Ayoyo, kita sudah lambat. Nanti bapak Afiq murah!"
"Bukan murah lah Prem, marah."
"Betul lah, nanti bapak Afiq murah!"
Once we reached home, Auntie Saras told my parents how good I was and how much I ate. "Afiq makan banyak betol, tambah dua kali hari hari." As Umi packed my things, I looked for Yoges at the neighbour's house. "Yoges sekolah lah Afiq." Prem whispered in my ear. "Oh" I then rushed to Yoges's secret lab and put the Taro toy in her secret toy tupperware she hid under an unused clay pot.
We got into the car, opened the window to wave and I gave Auntie Saras flying kisses. Auntie Saras laughed when Prem told her Yoges taught me that flying kisses is how Indians greet each other. She returned my flying kisses and shouted from afar "Jangan lupa sembahyang ah Afiq!"

My First Documentary

Remember the time I did my heritage study trip in Kedah?

The time I fell from the first floor to the ground through the ceiling?

Unnecessary but effective recap. ; )

Good times. Well, here is the shortened 15 minutes documentary. Suhail the group leader forbade me from uploading it but I firmly believe in the freedom of knowledge. People shouldn't pay for something like this, especially when the heritage study is a compulsary course work. Bare in mind that we are all architecture students and not film students so the quality of the documentary should be put aside.

I shot and directed the first half, the brief history and introduction of Kedah and the palace:

Imran shot and directed the second half, the architecture aspect of the heritage study. The 3D rendering is a group effort and was headed by Suhail Azlan the 3D MAX jedi master.

I was also the editor and music & sound director. This video is the only documentary of a legendary but forgotten heritage building in the world, the palace of Sultan Abdul Hamid's first wife, Che Sepahchendra. It should also be noted that Puteri narrated the documentary and did a superb job too.


Enjoy. : D

Adilkah Keadilan?

I've been wanting to get this off my chest for a long time. I am adamant that my readers are teenagers who may not be interested in politics or the state of this country. If they do however, they may be inclined to the opposition, which is all fair and lovely. It's normal, no, expected that young adults channel whatever left in their supply of angst to express their political idealism.

I in the other hand, who have been supporting BN is considered a Pak Turut. A Pak Turut who refused to change in the name of justice. Dengan nama Keadilan. Keadilan? Come on now guys, we should all be aware of this injustice in the use of the word Keadilan.

Keadilan questioned and condemned Utusan and a few other newspapers for being BN's propaganda engine and yet they have their own newspaper like Harapan, Suara Keadilan etc. I mean have you read Suara Keadilan lately? If you haven't, it's practically full of smiling PR MPs and yawning BN MPs. Far from being a voice of justice, the propaganda content is worst than that of Utusan. Don't believe, buy one now and read for yourself.

Bank dunia bukan milik US ke?

Teresa Kok who believes in freedom of the media is suing a newspaper for millions of ringgit. She is also planning to sue Khir Toyo. Aik, the politician known to be blunt when it comes to handling mismanagement and corruption is practically telling us "You better say nice things about me only hor.. If not ah, I'll sue your ass!".
Recently a short story published by a newspaper was also being targeted by the opposition for suggesting that Dato' J is Teresa Kok. Which part of cerpen (cerita pendek) do they not understand? They countered lah with a Dato' C cerpen written by Nat Tan yang orang tak berapa nak layan. Because it's sedih. Sedihlah when the opposition termakan cili, terasa pedas and subsequently send the enemy a generic that tastes like rendang tok. Funnily enough, a member of the opposition filed a police report of a published sajak. Let's play tanggo and see how low can you go. How low can you go?

Banyak banyak kapal, kapal mana yang biadap? Karpal Singh jawapannya. Not only he disrespected the speaker, he whined that the speaker was being emotional when he was sent out of the parliament. This, coming from a chairman of biaDAP is understandable of course. It is high time that politicians like Lim Kit Siang and Karpal Sing who are against nepotism hand over their resignation to be tactfully replaced by Gobind Deo Singh and Lim Guan Eng.

And don't get me started on Anwar the liar Ibrahim. A troublemaker from the start, his ability to create chaos in this country is legendary. And yet, termakan jua kamu pada kata-kata manisnya. He's a prodigy gone wronglah macha. Nothing more, nothing less. And to who's expense is his international bitching, Malaysians. You and I. And Pak Samad tauke kedai kopi seberang jalan.

Now that he's planning to bring down BN in the next election, I'm rooting for serious and direct leaders like Muhyidin Yassin to kick his ass. No wait, he might misconstrue ass kicking as display of affection. Well, an ass is an ass, no matter how it tastes like coffee. It's still an ass.

Should I or Should I Not?

My fitness regime/programme/routine is going great. I'm feeling healthy like a mad ox, thirsty like a hippo and lethargic like a sloath. I heard it's normal to feel this way because my body is currently re-adjusting itself to suit my new needs. I'm worried that I'm getting too buffed especially the bicep and shoulder region. I can feel that my t shirt sleeves are getting tighter. This is uncalled for. I don't want to look like arwah Chris Benoit. I'm more worried about tomorrow though.

A few weeks ago my cousin persuaded me to go clubbing with him, you know, to experience something new with him. And to put the cherry on top of a very attractive cheese cake, he said he was going to belanja the whole clubbing experience. So I'm practically in good hands. Trusted companion [check] free outing [check] no class [check]. But like any cheesecake with an artificial cherry on top, I will usually make sure that the cake is halal and the establishment that baked it is JAKIM certified. I'm having doubts so I made a list of reasons why I should or should not go clubbing.

Why I Should

To get new experience and to study an environment foreign to me.
To make new acquaintances and friends
To make a review of the whole clubbing experience and publish it in my blog.

Why I Shouldn't

Because the place is a solicitor of inappropriate interactions
Because clubs serves alcohol and nothing else
Because female clubbers usually adorn themselves skimpy and revealing outfits
Because it's from 10pm to 2am-4am
Because from past experience, UIA will call students who were caught clubbing to its legal unit for questioning.

My mother gave me her consent years ago to go clubbing. My father gave me tips on what to wear when going clubbing. My friends told me that I should if I haven't yet. In difficult moments like this, I'll ask the Mohd in me what to do. What would Prophet Muhammad do? I think he'll go clubbing only to preach about Islam like he did when he preached Islam to the people of Taif and we all know what happened to him.

I think it is foolish to perform solat Istiqarah to get my answers. Not only is it foolish, it's hypocritical of me to consider an obvious sin.

But being mere mortal and all, I'm still 50-50. Is it necessary that I lick the surface of this denominator of evil so I can forever repel it? Will it be a lesson or a beginning of a new culture? Should I go clubbing? Should I or should I not?

While waiting for the 2.30 am Man U vs Celtic...

"Afiq, ko dah pernah nampak dah ex aku?"
"Dah dah, Suhail belum. Cerita la kat Suhail."
Megat recapped how he met and eventually broke up with his girlfriend of 3 years. She was beautiful, he was the jealous type. Fastforward 3 years later from then and now he is about to get engaged to Fatin.
Suhail felt it was inevitable to share his experience with his one and only ex-girlfriend.
"Ko taktau ek pasal Suhail punya ex?" I asked Megat.
"Haaa, cerita Suhail cerita!"
So he did and I concluded. "We all learnt out lesson..."
"Kau tak pun! Semua ex ko, ko yang break up kan and atas dasar tah pape pulak tu." one of the two penyibuks spoiled my moment.
"Haah, kesian dier...3 tahun pulak tu! Ko main-main pulak dengan perasaan dier. Nanti ko kene baru tau."
Afiq stood his ground and countered. "I have my reasons. It was three years of trying. I tried. It was just not meant to be so lah until my future wife comes along, I'll be preoccupied with my fascination with the likes of Haikal and Zubair."
"Gay doh ko..."
"Kalau aku gay, korang dah lama aku rogol."
"Itu satu permulaan Afiq, dalam kajian cognitive behavior, sifat ni akan lead pada habit yang lebih buruk." Megat said matter-of-factly.
"Macam Anwar Ibrahim? Betul gak, bahaya bahaya." Knowing that Megat idolizes that hypocritical gay politician and regards Anwar's Asian Renaissance book like a second Quran, I gave him a good prodding on the rear.
"Itulah ko, tak habis habis ngan Haikal." Suhail laughed it off before realizing he entered a dangerous unchartered threshold.
"Ko pulak dengan adik angkat ko. Ye Bang... Makan dulu ye Bang... Selamat tido Bang... Adik angkat la sangat!" I rolled my eyes as he YM-ed his "adik angkat". A cheap shot it was but an effective one.
"So like I was saying... aku belum mature enough for a serious relationship." Afiq concluded triumphantly.
Megat and Suhail nodded furiously.
"Simply because when I meet her I'll just know it. I'll go to her and ajak her to kahwin without the fuss of dating and knowing each other. Then I'll get her parents' permission. We'll learn about each other after the nikah. It's much more romantic that way."
Afiq zoned out, returned to his room and listened to Ella Fitzgerald's Bewithched, Bothered and Bewildered while waiting for the important match.
All three of us dozed off last night. Another early morning EPL match missed. Another reason why we shouldn't talk about our ex-es.


Perasan is a state of mind when one thinks too highly of oneself. Santan is coconut milk that can cause stroke and heart attack in the long run when consumed without due control.

Perasantan is a state of mind that inhibits ambitions and goals by exuding them in forms of expression for the sake of acknowledgement.

Perasantan in front of a full length mirror is good motivation after I do my exercises and weight lifting. No matter how chubby I've become, after a good workout session I'll go "You're the man, who's the man? You're the man." No harm done. No one's listening anyway. I will only come across as vain only when people can see my vanity in action with their own eyes.

I sure have my non-physical perasantan moments but nowadays, I'm more aware of my surrounding to think too much of myself. And when I do overindulge in my perasantan moments, I'll make sure I do it with my best friends. Because true friends stab you in the front- Oscar Wilde. They will either condemn me for having ridiculous grandiouse thoughts of myself or support my personal notions that they feel are real and pure.

Yesterday I had one of my perasantan moments and blurted out "Suhail, apa ko rasa kalau aku kata kat ko yang aku nak jadi director filem yang tersohor?"

Suhail smiled and dengan selambanya berkata "Aku sokong! Haaa... nanti dah kaya jangan lupa aku pulak."

That's a good sign, no?

Let The Asskicking Begin!

After two months of total neglect of my physical fitness, not to mention the impulsive gorging of lemang and kambing, my current pysical state is a mess. My face is chubby, my lovehandles can now serve its name and I'm down with a case of insomnia. Today I woke up, took a shower, looked at myself in the mirror and went "Oh hot damn , this is my jam... Yall don’t understand , make me throw my hands... In the ayer , ay , ayer , ayer , ay , ayer."
I need to get rid of my excess raya baggage now! I rushed to the nearest video store and browsed through a collection of aerobic videos. There are simpler fat-burning solutions like jogging and swimming but I prefer my cardio exercises in the morning and the hostel environment is not condusive early in the morning (stray dogs, drunk africans, hantu etc.) So I got myself a Boot Camp Body Blast by Denise Austin.

It's a fusion of aerobics and kick boxing, a manlier method of performing full cardiovascular aerobics. I'll be kicking ass early in the morning so the my body will burn fat more effectively because there's no food to burn after a whole night of fasting au naturale.

I also made a workout programme for the whole week. I'll be doing some weightlifting in the evening after class and at night, two hours after dinner. If you think I'm over scheduling, the time spent on my programme is only one hour a day! I'm not focusing on any muscle group because I like my physique lean and toned and not bulky and muscular.

Heavy dumbells [check]

Light dumbells [check]

Aerobic dumbells [check]

It's high time for me to get serious about my physical fitness. It's not about being vain or pretentious. Being fit will make me more confident, more attractive, generally healthier and have better stamina to get through the day and still be able to do other things. Getting a great bod (with six pack abs) is a plus though. : )
Let the asskicking begin!

Cry me a Sungai Kinabatangan

The Way Home

Tokyo Tower, My Mom and Sometimes My Dad

I want to make movie like these one day. Movies that are real but have strong commercial value in them. Profitable and enlightening.

I learnt recently that my whole family reads this blog. This is a problem. I'm not comfortable of them knowing what I'm up to and what I'm capable of writing.

7 Things

Sheesh. I was tagged several, totttt, a few dozens, totttt. Okay, close to a hundred times before. Teng teng teng. But I never answer any of them. I think it's a tad superficial to answer questions that you have the power to choose. It's self-reflective in nature and can be considered syok sendiri to other readers.

Today is a new day. A sober, slow and uneventful Sunday and I want to keep it that way. Alas,

7 Things You Might Not Know About Me

(Hehe, already this survey is making me perasan. Forgive me, I'm a virgin at this, or any other nature that relates to the intrusion of the threshold. Ah fuck, here it goes..)

1. I like to examine myself in the mirror, like all the time. When any part of me goes past a mirror, I will somehow felt that it is incumbent to execute a thorough investigation. Not many notice this strange display of narcisism. Even a reflective pool of water will get me to stand still and.... observe. God, I know I'm not good looking but hey, I never believed the standards imposed to be considered beautiful. We ugly people share this train of thoughts.

2. I zone out a lot. And I mean a lot! Tengah makan, zone out. Main game, zone out. Tengah driving, zone out. Sembang sembang, zone out. The only time I find hard to zone out is when I attempt to sleep. So what I usually do to get myself aloft to the spirit world is by listening to movie conversations. Woody Allen flicks usually does the trick. A lot of talking and less argh argh, keboooom and Oh Tom!

3. My hair is naturally kembang. Serious natural. It gets uncontrallable at times but it makes me... well, me. I used clay to make sure the kembang look can be control to a certain extent.


If I Were a Mutant...

I know deep inside everyone of you, there is a young geek reading comic books furiously at a well lit corner. Some made japanese mangas (translated to BM) like Dragon Ball Z, Dr. Slump, Doraemon and Captain Tsubasa a staple read and others who preferred english comic books like me read Marvel and DC comics. When I was younger, Marvel heroes weren't as complicated like they are now. Do didn't conspire against each other or contemplate suicide. They were at a stage that they just learnt about their special abilities and how to used them to fight in the name of justice. All is well until mutants bred like rabbits and in a decade, they had no choice but to kill old superheroes to make room for new upcoming ones.
And technology. Technology arrived at Marvel and being a mutant isn't as handy as it was when the only thing that can deter mutants were guns. Now there are nuclear reactor beams, high intensity laser guns and plastic SMGs to kill steel controlling mutants like Magneto.
My personal favourite was (and still is) Angel or Warren Worthington the Third. He is like a mutant DC's Batman. A rich priviledged brat who had to learn how to control his wings.

I wanted wings so bad when I was 8 or 9 that I secretly made wings from chicken coop steel wire and actual feathers I plucked out from bapak's 4 chickens before spraying them with white coloured aerosol spray. I kept my wings a secret because if Hadi and Saiful knew, they'll get their hands on them. I also bribed Bibik to not tell Umi or Bapak by supporting her white lies once in a while.

Now if I do what I did and construct angel wings, my roommates will probably send me to Tg. Rambutan. All I can do now is imagine.

With the power of my very lapuk laptop, I attempted to make myself a mutant, with wings!

Throw in a pinch of obsession and a few minutes of free time

Behold, a comical Afiq with a pair of uber cool wings.

If you can't get a girl, get her sister. If you are impotent, buy a Ferrari. If you can't grow wings, photoshop them!

I'm guessing that everyone dah tengok this music video. Dang. Well I just watched it yesterday! This is why we should have our own fucking MTV. Not just a 1 hour special of selected Malaysian music videos but a 24/7 operation. tak best. There I said it. Tak best. Tak best. Tak best. I have reality programs up my sleeve to spice things up so ehem, tv executives... call me.

Jason and Orked's cameo gave me goosebumps. Harith Iskandar is the paling tak lawak pelawak in showbiz. And gurrrl, that Jac Victor can sing~

Gay Sex Kills

I was cautioned by many to keep this news a secret. But when the story ends with a 47 year old man jumping out a window and died shortly after the incident, keeping mummed about it is ridiculous
It all started when an african student heard loud moaning and grunting from a room. He went into the room and saw the 47 year old man having sex with a male student. The african rushed out from the room shouting "People having sex in the room!" his engine loud voice boomed from block A to block C. Students gathered and asked the african student what happened and checked the room only to find out that the old man jumped out the window. He landed just beside the drain and became unconscious. Some students dragged him to the basketball court and later called the ambulance. When asked whether or not he really saw them having sex the african in green jubah answered "I saw them, he's strong, he's sexy."
Yeah this probably won't be on the news. A student died in a matriculation centre when he leaped from a roof and fell down and that didn't make the press. This kind of incidents will just become rumours, another strory rephrased to fit the content of Mastika. It's like somebody that tells us "Now now kids, these stories are all rumours but the lessons are real. Commit zina or gay sex and you'll end up dead!"
Gossip Boy


Someone e-mailed me last night telling me that he had not use his ruler until he read my last entry. An anonymous e-mailed to express his concern over the length of his penis. Quote "Will girls leave me once they knows I have a small penis?"
I replied, telling him to watch Ayat-ayat Cinta

Sports cars and Armani leather jackets are chick magnets, true. Abnormal girth of a bulge over tight jeans will make them breathless. But none of these will make them swoon and have fuzzy feelings like the sight of a courteous, kind and concerned man. .

Branded polos or shoes will shout attention but the sight of a man helping an old nyoya crossing the road will overshine Dolce&Gabbana any day!

A true measure of a man is CKC (courtesy, kindness & concern) and not D&G, YSL or CK.

Don't Worry Be Happy

After a month of neglect, I finally made a point to somewhat update my frienster status, added a few pictures and viewed some of my friends' new pictures. I realized that some pictures can actually be safeguarded and only upon consent of the profile owner can it be viewed. So I applied and within minutes, my request was positively verified. I opened the album of Polan bin Polan only to find out that it's a gallery of himself in full glory. Yes yes, Polan bin Polan took pictures of himself in his room holding his member in a certain way to make it appear larger than it really is.
I'm not going to be a hypocrit and tell you that I find all this strange. It'll be like telling you that I think that 3GP is more famously known as an encoding format, not local porn. But why, why did he tried to make his member look larger than it already is?
There's a reason why men should be ashamed of showing their penis and that reason being our inability to do anything about it. We can't make it bigger nor can we sculpt it into a desirable form. It is as it is. Today we can enhance breasts and restore virginity but nope, that we cannot do. Sorry Encik Alfie, we cannot do anything about your.... condition. Have you considered joining the church?
Take a stroll at any streets and you will see small adverts like Rawatan Pembesaran Zakar, Urut Asli Haji Samuri, Teknik Besaran Dr. Daud and Da Lin, Hen Da Lin! Our obsession of the ultimate male endowment is legendary. So legendary that it was told that there was a centuries old scripture that tells a story of a young malay man who embarks in a journey to discover a magical fountain that can make his keris double the original size.
Many tried and failed. Some just gave up the search, joined a MLM and buy themselves flashy sports cars to compensate. Others resorted to cheaper alternatives like shoving socks in their underwear. And to those who are extremely self-conscious about penis size, I have a simple formula to determine whether or not you are ehem, normal.
Here's a median length of different races:
  • Chinese: 11cm
  • Indian: 17cm
  • Melayu: 13cm
  • Caucasion: 16cm
  • African: 19cm
If you're a mix, just add the median length and divide lah. Let's take me for an example: I'm 75% malay and the other 25% chinese and indian. So 975 + 212.5 + 137.5 /100 = 13.25cm.
Okay, let's see... Eh? Okay lah maybe my indian genes kicked the chinese and malay genes at some point during my embryonic development. It's not accurate but it gives you a sense of assurance.
See, you're actually more or less relatively endowed than you think you are. So don't worry.
Be happy!
*Urgh... that song. Remember that annoying song? Oooo o o o o oooo Don't worry be happy.

Mai Secawan!

I'm doing a three minutes documentary on Malaysians' definition of democracy. What I'll do is I'll be walking around KL and will pass around a mug with a caption Demokrasi to unexpected bystanders. I want people of various walks of life to participate in the shooting including politicians, the elderly, hippy samaritans, indie junkies, sophisticated mamas, politically correct Hafidzes and idealistic uni/college undergrads. And also mamaks, chitties, babas and sikhs. Scums and puritans alike. In BM, BI, Mandarin, Tamil, Dusun, Etc.
So again, I'm relying on favours.
I need your help to make this short documentary a success. I can't afford to pay you guys for giving your definition of democracy but I'll give out free Demokrasi mugs though. Surely that's something. (sniggers to cover desperation)
If you're interested, text me (016 -289 9681). Just remember when you do text, that I'm not gay and I cannot be solicited for sex. This virgin just wants to win a trip to Washinton.

Start Young, Think Big and Stick To It

Yes yes, I know. "Afiq ni syok sendiri lah buat company sendiri. Cam poyo jek."
I will giggle myself itchy whenever I stumble upon syok sendiri companies with ridiculously vain names like D'Salina or D'Riaz. Modern but rooted company names like Pucuk Rebung, Singgahsana and Telaga Emas is cool to a certain extent. But yang paling tak tahan are names like Fantasia Corp, Lina International and Che' Karina: London. New York. Sabak Bernam. I call this case of bad taste 'Mat Jenin Syndrom'.
It should be revealed to these people with nausea inducing taste in company naming that names does not matter at all in business. But branding does. Branding makes company names a household linggo. It's common to hear conversation that revolves around brand names like "Minah, ambilkan Shieldtox atas Yamaha (piano), lepastu spraykan dekat Biskut Hup Seng tu" before Minah and Family (another common catering company name) is admitted to a hospital for food poisoning.
Some names are brand elastic, going as far as galaxy tourism to the very domestic cola beverages like Virgin. Some brands are known for offering consumers cheap and low quality services like AirAsia. Having said this, a brand is a reputation or a persona of products and services.
I'm currently being represented by my own brand because I feel that there is a need to showcase my portfolio under a name other than my own. A brand can be stretched beyond the founder's comprehension and still, credits will still go to the founder. That is how powerful branding can be.
But after a few dozens of industrial design projects, I think it is time to make full use of Madba and let Madba takes its own course. Sure I don't have a proper office, a tudung clad secretary with glorious jugs and an awesome leather rotating chair but this IS the 21st century.
*And also, I'm tired of not having to show off my designs or products (online or not) because I operated without a legal company.

Challenging the Inevitable

What makes human truly human is our ability to justify ourselves when we do the inevitable. What makes this universe truly fair is how it ignores our justifications. What makes God truly great is how He reward those who challenge the inevitable.

Radzi came home from work early and caught his wife with another man doing what she told Radzi she was doing on the phone. She was working a sweat. It is inevitable that he beat the guy up to a pulp and divorce his hysterical wife that instant. Instead of doing the inevitable he cooled down, politely ask the guy to leave, give the guilty wife some time to reflect and solve the problem diplomatically.

Tanggang's mother insisted that Tanggang should not try his luck in the open seas. She was afraid of losing him and used threats to make him feel guilty about leaving. Tanggang ignored his mother's threats and secretly joined a trading ship. He made something of himself throughout the years and one day he was told that he will be doing a trade to his homeland. Instead of doing the inevitable and ignore his mother, Tanggang visited his indifferent mother and gave her onde-onde he bought from a distant town.

Challenging the inevitable is by far the hardest concept a human being could ever grasp. It is inhumane, not in a intestine twisting, brain smashing way lah.

The trouble with challenging the inevitable is the uncertainty of its effect. When one does something out of the ordinary, one would expect an out of the ordinary result. But challenging the inevitability of life events offer very humane and life-like implications. No Radzi will not be rewarded with the power to fly. And no Tanggang will still be affilliated with the Kisah Anak Derhaka myth.

Challenging the inevitable can only take place with the belief of a hidden reward. A reward so gila gila awesome it will literally make playing Tekken6 in the PS3 boring in comparison.

Religion (Islam in my case) gives me a reason to challenge the inevitable. Religion makes people do insanely great things. Religion or the belief of a reward not known to the perceptible world.

*I'm in a middle of shedding the 'extra baggage' I carried from Alor Setar. Philosophy is my antacid. What's yours?

Merry Time

Raya was awesome. It was so awesome there should be a new word to commemorate it.

Raya was Lemanglicious!

I woke up around 8, went for the routine solat sunat aidilfitri, visited my grandfather's grave and beraya at Tok's house. I had lunch at with the whole troupe, during which my father being a pot filled with historical facts that he is, explained to us the etymology of the Ronggeng dance.

According to Azizan Pawanteh, when the Portuguese successfully invaded Malacca in 1511, they celebrated the event by dancing the night away. Some Malay men who lived nearby watched the Portuguese dance and were intrigued by the rather unusual dance style. So they dressed up and join in the celebration, fusing the waltz with the more traditional zapin only to be interrupted by a portuguese official "O que são você que faz?" The malay men shook their heads and hinted the official thay they didn't understand a word he said and told him that they only understand a bit of english. The official then called a translator and relayed the message to the translator. The translator translated the official's message in a small notebook and shouted out loud to the group of malay men "Sorry, but you're in the wrong gang!"
And that's how the Ronggeng dance, according to my father, got its name.

I picked up theStar newspaper and browsed through it and was saddened by the news of a horrendous car crash. Guess what else was on page N16?

Who would've thought that just above the strip of sad news is a mock raya celebration of us UIA students! The picture was taken a week before raya when I was still back in UIA. The photographer told us that our picture may or may not be shown during raya because it is really up to the editor so I wasn't expecting much. The photographer gave away all the props to me and I most humbly accepted them. Who in their right mind would not accept free lemang, satay, ketupat, rendang and a set of kueh raya? We had a feast that night, bludgeoning ourselves with food that weren't supposed to be served until Raya. It's like preparing for school only to find out that it's a school holiday.

Supposedly (nak dibuatkan ceritalah) I and four other UIA students are miles away from home so we accepted Suria Harman's invitation to her house at Gombak to enjoy local malay cuisine. I giggled a bit lah as I read the piece at Tok's house at Alor Setar.

Notice the spelling error? Afiq Dun. Hahaha. Dun. I wrote my name in cursive so they must have mistaken my ee for u. Or maybe Afiq Dun is more Sabahan than Afiq Deen. Maybe. But then it didn't matter because I, Afiq Dun, have a gift of laughing at myself silly.

My dimpled cheeks will also be in November edition of Fokus SPM for winning the recent short film competition. Next Stop?

My printed media appearance wish list:

1. Klue's Over 20 Under 40
2. URTV's Pemuda Bulan Ini (publisiti murahan)
3. CLEO's top 50 Bachelor (dream big bebeh~)
4. Mangga's Berenang Baik untuk Kesihatan?