Turkey for Thanksgiving

What????? (Me with Nael and Nisa)


I know right. Afiq celebrating Thanksgiving after his lengthy blog entry on Halloween?


It wasn't my idea. My cousin suggested it and bought a turkey yesterday. What was I to do than to help her prepare and bake the turkey.


Smoulder cavities with salt and pepper, it reads. Mimicking a soft spoken chef, "Ya puan-puan, kita ramas-ramaskan ketiak kakun. Selepas itu ya puan-puan, kita ramas-ramaskan celah-celap paha dengan garam..." I turned the turkey breast first, smoulder melted butter and gave it a soothing massage.


If it weren't for the absence of surgical robes, masks and caps and the fact that the operation was done in a kitchen, we could've been mistaken as sergeons. "Kak Seri, bawakan stuffing." I examined the turkey's asshole by poking it with a wooden spoon to determine its diameter. "Okay, she's ready for her first and final penetration."

I suggested that we insert the stuffing through the asshole. Kak Seri retorted "Ish, mana boleh dong!". "Are you sure it's through the back?" Diyana checked the printed recipe and instruction we got from howto.com. I grabbed a handful and shove it through the turkey's asshole anyway. "Whoa, Afiq is getting turned on!" Hariz appeared out of nowhere with his videocam. "Oh yeah, you like it that way, don't you Afiq." I took my hand out from the turkey and sucked the remaining filling from it. Everything mundane needs a Wow factor when it is caught on video.


We'll make sure everyone eats the turkey first before we show them the video on how we prepared it. You know, just in case.

Fiver hours later....

Even though it was the first time we ever cooked a turkey, it was (do it like Jack Black in Nacho Libre) Fantastic!

X 0 xx O xx O x X

Breaking News

Thai capital was in dissaray as thousands of anti-government protesters laid siege on the city's airport.
101 people were killed and 300 more injured in a coordinated suicide attacks in Mumbai.
But first, romantic vampire movie Twilight opens worldwide. Hundreds of "fanpires" waited hours to get a glimpse of new stars Robert Pattinson, who plays the heart-throb vampire Edward and Kristen Stewart, who plays the girl-next-door character Bella - the narrator of the stories. There has been a targeted advertising blitz in recent weeks on television shows that cater to female teen and young-adult viewership. But the phenomenon that is Twilight has actually managed to capture the imagination of older women as well, including married women with children.
I mouthed "Amazing" when I heard this radio headline this morning.

Yoga Haram


I read a letter sent by a muslim yoga practitioner that was published by NST yesterday. It goes like this:

I have to admit that I loved yoga. When I first learned that a fatwa would be issued regarding yoga, I was furious. I began debating with my family, telling them that yoga had nothing to do with religion and the only goal was good health.

I said the National Fatwa Council members were not people who had ever done yoga and they have in no postion to judge what yoga is.

Fortunately, I am still a faithful muslim and when a fatwa was announced, I quickly complied with the new ruling. However, I did a simple Wikipedia search on yoga and pilates. This was the first time I did any research on the word. I was defending yoga with no real knowledge and basis of what yoga really is.

After a mere 10 minutes, I was shocked by what I discovered. The goal of yoga is definitely agaisnt all Islamic teaching and values. I urge yoga lovers to look into these articles. I also learnt that yoga has been banned in several churches in Britain as being un-Christian.

Even though I was practising yoga purely for health reasons, I was blinded by the meditation and relaxation techniques actually stand for. As a former yoga enthusiast, I humbly admit that what the National Fatwa Council proposed is undoubtedly the right thing to do. We should be thankful that such fatwa came at this time when we are still faithful to Islam.

The ban on yoga isn't the end of the world. There are many exercises out there. And I wouldn't trade my faith for any exercise routine, ever.

Munirah Muhammad
Johor Baru

A Very Interesting Conversation

An Atheist Professor of Philosophy was speaking to his Class on the Problem Science has with GOD, the ALMIGHTY. He asked one of his New Christian Students to stand and . . .
Professor : You are a Christian, aren't you, son ?
Student : Yes, sir.
Professor : So, you Believe in GOD ?
Student : Absolutely, sir.
Professor : Is GOD Good ?
Student : Sure.
Professor : Is GOD ALL - POWERFUL ?
Student : Yes.
Professor : My Brother died of Cancer even though he Prayed to GOD to Heal him. Most of us would attempt to help others who are ill. But GOD didn't. How is this GOD good then? Hmm?
(Student was silent )
Professor : Is there Sickness? Immorality? Hatred? Ugliness? All these terrible things exist in the World, don't they?
Student : Yes, sir.
Professor : So, who Created them ?
(Student had no answer)
Professor : Science says you have 5 Senses you use to Identify and Observe the World around you. Tell me, son . . . Have you ever Seen GOD?
Student : No, sir.
Professor : Tell us if you have ever Heard your GOD?
Student : No , sir. Professor : Have you ever Felt your GOD, Tasted your GOD, Smelt your GOD? Have you ever had any Sensory Perception of GOD for that matter?
Student : No, sir. I'm afraid I haven't.
Professor : Yet you still Believe in HIM?
Student : Yes.
Professor : According to Empirical, Testable, Demonstrable Protocol, Science says your GOD doesn't exist. What do you say to that, son?
Student : Nothing. I only have my Faith.
Professor : Yes,Faith. And that is the Problem Science has.
Student : Professor, is there such a thing as Heat?
Professor : Yes.
Student : And is there such a thing as Cold?
Professor : Yes.
Student : No, sir. There isn't.
(The Lecture Theatre became very quiet with this turn of events )
Student : Sir, you can have Lots of Heat, even More Heat, Superheat, Mega Heat, White Heat, a Little Heat or No Heat. But we don't have anything called Cold. We can hit 458 Degrees below Zero which is No Heat, but we can't go any further after that. There is no such thing as Cold. Cold is only a Word we use to describe the Absence of Heat. We cannot Measure Cold. Heat is Energy. Cold is Not the Opposite of Heat, sir, just the Absence of it.
(There was Pin-Drop Silence in the Lecture Theatre )
Student : What about Darkness, Professor? Is there such a thing as Darkness?
Professor : Yes. What is Night if there isn't Darkness?
Student : You're wrong again, sir. Darkness is the Absence of Something. You can have Low Light, Normal Light, Bright Light, Flashing Light . . . But if you have No Light constantly, you have nothing and its called Darkness, isn't it? In reality, Darkness isn't. If it is, were you would be able to make Darkness Darker, wouldn't you?
Professor : So what is the point you are making, Young Man ?
Student : Sir, my point is your Philosophical Premise is flawed.
Professor : Flawed ? Can you explain how?
Student : Sir, you are working on the Premise of Duality. You argue there is Life and then there is Death, a Good GOD and a Bad GOD. You are viewing the Concept of GOD as something finite, something we can measure. Sir, Science can't even explain a Thought. It uses Electricity and Magnetism, but has never seen, much less fully understood either one. To view Death as the Opposite of Life is to be ignorant of the fact that Death cannot exist as a Substantive Thing. Death is Not the Opposite of Life: just the Absence of it. Now tell me, Professor, do you teach your Students that they evolved from a Monkey?
Professor : If you are referring to the Natural Evolutionary Process, yes, of course, I do. Student : Have you ever observed Evolution with your own eyes, sir?
(The Professor shook his head with a Smile, beginning to realize where the Argument was going )
Student : Since no one has ever observed the Process of Evolution at work and cannot even prove that this Process is an On-Going Endeavor, Are you not teaching your Opinion, sir? Are you not a Scientist but a Preacher?
(The Class was in Uproar )
Student : Is there anyone in the Class who has ever seen the Professor's Brain?
(The Room was Silent. The Professor stared at the Student, his face unfathomable)
Professor : I guess you'll have to take them on Faith, son.
Student : That is it sir . . . Exactly ! The Link between Man & GOD is FAITH. That is all that Keeps Things Alive and Moving.
Oh yeah, that student was Albert Einstein.

Kek Cawan

A few months back when everyone (who eats carb irresponsibly) (as if I don't) was crazy about cupcakes, I was one those people who will show my discontent by provoking my friends who joined in the craze by asking them "Ada apa dengan cupcakes?"

"It's a cup in a cake. It's more mobile than your usual cake."
"But the hype is overwhelming. It doesn't make sense! Satu lagi, people are crazy about the decoration than the taste."

"Like your design lah, you're always more concerned about the aesthetics."

"Touche."

It's true. The only thing I like about cupcakes is the creativity that comes with it, especially when it serves as a form of expression.

I'm calling this cupcake of mine Kecewa

Pidah & Ijat

Rafidah grants imported car licences.

Shahrizat plays Fast & Furious with her imported car.

In the end, Shahrizat contributes to our country with her traffic summons, thanks to powerful imported cars by Rafidah Aziz. This is what we call counter-productive.

It'll be a fitting ending if they do a Thelma and Louise together. You know, the part both of them speed off from a cliff.

Afiq told them to take a hike.... so they did
In politics, there are no permanent enemies or permanent friends. Just permanent interests.

Holier-Than-Kamu


I've to admit I felt extremely guilty the day after I went clubbing. During the Friday prayers, the khutbah was about how western influence are brainwashing youths by permeating them with 'budaya kuning'.

It's good that the Imam reminds us of the negative effects of western influence by telling us the statistics of illegitimate children and people infected with HIV. Right, it's important to pinpoint the evil that surrounds us but it is also important to propose and organize alternatives.

I don't see how preaching without understanding the needs and feelings of youth can benefit either the imam or his intended audience. I'm sensing that the elderly religious community is rather selfish by only preaching without practicing proactive measures. Imagine:

God: How did you contribute to groom the next muslim generation?

Imam: We preach about their wrongdoings every week on Friday, we preach to them about them every chance we get to be with them.

God: Have you succeeded?

Imam: No but we did our part and they should do the rest of the work themselves.

God: Right.

Imam: So... can I like go to heaven now?

So how la like this? A church near the place I'm staying now organizes weekly meet-ups at their church. Every weekend, they'll be loads of cars parked along the neighbourhood to attend the services there. When I drove passed the church, there were picnics attended by families, basketball tournaments where all the teens hung out and friendly drawing competitions for kids.

Why can't our mosques do this kind of activities? Mosques should be hubs where muslims of various stages of life can interact, not a place exclusively for old farts and bums to pray their hearts out to die peacefully (if possible, on a good Friday while doing the sujud)

When youths are bombarded with judgements by religious authorities, in a blink they will avoid any religious related activities and embrace trends and cultures that readily embraces them back.

That's how things are nowadays and unless old religious farts realize this, they will be partially responsible for the deterioration of muslims youths.

A Virgin No More

Preparation was nerve wrecking. I didn't know which shoes to wear.
"There'll be a lot of jumping and dancing kan?"
"Yeah, pretty much."
"So pakai running shoes lah kan? It's light and..."
"Running shoes? No no no, pakai your black shoes."
Once we arrived at Euphoria, there was a long queue to get in because entrance before 11pm is free of charge so the bouncers purposely blocked the entrance the whole night, only to let people in a few minutes before 11. All the bouncers are 6 footers and ridiculously huge, making Puan Marina who taught me BM in highschool immediately eligible for the post. As we neared the entrance, they announced that we have to pay pulak. Aiseh! My female friends got in for free because they're girls. For a place where kononnya open-minded people hang out, this place is surprisingly sexist.
Once we got in, I realized how men here are well dressed and the women are literally wearing skimpy whore-like outfits. Even those who are not keen on salad exposed their udders to perhaps help advertise dairy products. I got in the dance floor and whoa-wie. Imagine red, blue and green projected lasers, shisha smelling smoke, booming speakers surrounding the dancefloor and and people all over the place. For those who've never been to clubs, it's similar to crowded pasar malams with funky lights kelantanese gangsters use to promote their dvd haram stalls.
"People susah-susah dress up and put up make-up but we have to dance in the dark?"
"Yeah, it's where people get dates and flirt lah."
"Only to wake up and find out that the girl they slept with looks like Big Mama."
"Hahaha!"
I promised myself to only observe. As an observer. But after 5 minutes of crossing my arms and slightly bobbing my head, I got loose and boogied to the beat, kayu style... After a while, I secluded myself from the centre of the dance floor to do what I promised myself to do; to observe.
Okay, so there were cina bukit who wears expensive looking set of generics they probably bought at BB or PS. They only stood around like dumbfounded waiters/waitresses and those who attempted to dance either can't dance or tried too many dances all at once. There were teen arabs who danced to the rythm of Pink's So What like they were dancing to Ya Habibi, ya habibi, ya habibi ya nurul ain. There were also english speaking indians and chinese who are probably Sunway College students. These people don't think twice when they drink so after they got tipsy, they'll be all over their girlfriends' face.
Ahah, there were two types of malay who clubbed at Euphoria. The first type are the malays who live nearby, speak broken english, drink their allocated alcohol and dress up casually (usually t-shirts) The second type are those who had to travel in overcrowded local cars to Subang, queue up right in time to get in for free and take load of pictures that they will later upload on friendster and myspace so they could look like the first type.
After a few minutes of 'observing', I tipped an aging dancer (who performed on an elevated podium) by shoving 5 ringgit into her cash-filled beer mug. After a quick look of her exposed panties, I went back to the dance floor and group boogied. When the dancefloor got overcrowded, we took a break from clubbing and went to a nearby kedai mamak for drinks. On our way, there were kononnya drunk friends of my cousin. Seriously dude, you won't get drunk after drinking a bottle of Heineken!
I don't see how drinking can make clubbing more fun. I had fun because I was conscious of the fun I had. Sure there were things that weren't so fun like the sight of overly provocative girls. I had to look up or close my eyes when they suddenly appear in front of me. There were people who shoved their way to the centre of the dancefloor but yang paling tak tahan were those who grope their way to the centre. Pegang sini, pegang sana, excuse me macha, leave my lovehandles alone!
We left the club relatively early (2 am!), walked into a very empty Sunway Pyramid to get to the parking lot. My eyes were dazed to a point that I could easily get epilepsy. I've to admit, nothing particularly spectacular happened. I wasn't expecting much anyway so I wasn't dissapointed.

Nope, I wasn't drunk. I was just slightly flustered. And yeah, I am also still slightly deaf.

Slightly.

Thank You Sir May I Have Another


Today, the practice of canning or rotan is a form of physical abuse. When I was younger, I was a frequent liar so I was caned whenever I got caught lying. As a policeman who never entertain the normal practice of bribery in the police force, my father dread the very idea of lying and will go to great length to 'straighten' me up. But after the caning, he will visit my room at night and explain to me why he had to resort to caning. If my father is not around, my mother will take over and beat me with cloth hangers or she would save her energy and emotionally blackmail me instead.

Strangely enough, my little brother Hadi picked up this habit but he was so good at it that everyone never notice it until it became evidently obvious. Now lying is like second nature to him. The only person who can scan his lies is me (being a old-time expert and all) What puzzled me is that he was never caned for his lying habits. To be honest, a part of me is angry because of the notion of "Afiq tipu kena rotan, Hadi buat tak kena pun."

But really, I don't see any other ways to 'straighten' Hadi up. We tried reason and sometimes even resort to heavenly threats. Orang yang suka tipu disengat ular kepala tujuh and all that jazz but it goes through him like a car going through Smart Tunnel just after the fuel price hike.

Caning is no more an option because he's already sixteen and it can even be misconstrued as ehem, abuse.

Caning is abuse? Puh-leez... Since when? Since Oprah issit? For me, caning can only be considered as a form of abuse when parents beat up their children to channel their anger. I can clearly distinct the difference between emotional caning and lesson caning because I experienced both before. Emotional caning is usually accompanied by angry grunts and is usually done without warning. Once, I exited the toilet and suddenly, Gedeboosh! My head kissed the tiled floor, leaving me stuttering "Afiq buat apa?"

Under normal circumstances, caning is the most effective method to educate headstrong children. But today, caning is considered abuse. Once, Hadi was caught hiding his homework under the sink so he was punished; he was prohibited to watch TV for a week. I was like "Whaaaa aaa aaa aaa aaaaaa... .....aaat?"
"Mana aci!"

Wanted: Mangaka


I am currently mangaka hunting. Know any good ones?

The Foolishness of Me

She waited in the dark. She pressed her thumb onto her index finger, agitated by the sickly humidity of the riverside.




"Assalamualaikum."




"Waalaikumsalam." She flashed a twitchy smile.




"Kita kena bincang." I said non-chalantly.




"Oh."




I lowered my gaze. "This is hard." I told her. I lied. It was the easiest decision I ever made.




"Kenapa Afiq? Apa yang Afiq nak bincangkan." She said accusingly. She knows. I can see it in her face. She knows that it's coming. She wouldn't have known if I didn't write my intention in my blog. I know she might feel that telling unknowing readers about it before she heard it herself is unethical.




"Macam ni lah." What I did was done with due consideration. What I did was I fluffed the cushion that she will fall on tonight.




"Cakaplah Afiq." Her eyes gleamed hope.




"Afiq rasa kita tak sesuai bersama. Sampai sini sajalah."




"Kenapa?"




"Sebab Afiq rasa kita tak sesuai."




Hope dissapeared from her eyes. It was replace by the bitterness of loss. My eyes, my eyes were vacant and unnerving.




"Nak tanya ni, kenapa Afiq tulis dalam blog pasal nak break up sebelum Afiq bagitau sendiri."




"Kita tak sesuai." I repeated. "Memang tak boleh macam ni."




"Kenapa? Afiq tak fikir ke pasal perasaan orang lain?"




"Kita tak boleh." The fact that she prepared a list of things to enquire was a good sign. She was prepared. She fell perfectly on the cushion I made. "You deserve better."




Again, I lied.

8 Things You Might Not Know

Ye, Afiq mengaku, dua tiga hari ni dipenuhi aktiviti bermain Guitar Hero. Tahap medium sahaja. Tak mampu lebih dari itu. Ada lah sikit-sikit main drums Guitar Hero tapi tahap easy. Kalau vocal jangan cakaplah, lagu Beat It Michael Jackson memang berjaya dibalun, sekali dengan Hee Hee Huu Huu high pitchnya.Tagged. I'm it.

1. When it comes to making fun of myself, I'm on top of my game. It is something that makes Afiq you know, Afiq.When we play BB guns, I'll summon the Kampung gal in me, Timah to make an appearance and tumbuk the belacan sehingga lumat. It's daunting, foolish and downright ridiculous but it is necessary to make the moment in time memorable.
2. Exposed to swimming pools, rivers and oceans since I can remember, I'm a natural when it comes to swimming or diving.
I have a relatively large lungs and I can dive across an olympic size swimming pool with one only one breath. I can do some frieky gymnastic moves underwater, something that I can never do on the ground.

3. I'm a considerably good cook. No joke. I can cook conventional dishes like curry and kurma, weird conceptual dishes like breanner (breakfast for dinner), basic italian dishes like pasta carbonara, aglio olio and lasagna and a line of self invented dishes.

4. I write in cursive. I can only write in cursive. Period. Puan Marina, my BM teacher forced us to write in cursive and after doing so for three years, I just forgot how to single out every letter from its word.

5. I spent most of my TV time watching either BBC, AlJazeera or E Entertainment. I don't usually watch anything else unless Project Runaway, Design 360 or Globe Trekker is on.

6. Some people think I have a bipolar disoder when they caught me with different groups of people. I can either be reserve and stuck up or weird, vulnerable and annoying. I don't have a disoder. I just have two different personalities that I can turn on or off depending on how advantageous it can turn out to be. I also have additional personalities like Salesman Afiq, Poetic Afiq and Critical Afiq.
Biasalah, budak Gemini.

7. I'm the fairest among my brothers. Even though we are real brothers (adik beradik kandung) people can find it difficult to comprehend our differences.

Afiq and Saiful
Afiq and Hadi
Afiq and Putra


8. Nothing happened between me and Haikal. Seriously. Nothing. Until this day, I still think his vanity is a huge barrier for our friendship to really work.

But he's a good friend. A friend I can never quite understand but hey I've plenty more friends to get by.

: )

Ada Apa Dengan Pengkid?

Hell broke loose when the National Fatwa officially declared that Pengkidism is haram. Tabloid newspapers poured gasolin on the controversy when they interviewed some pengkids they found by the road side and yes, yet again, Pengkidism like other demonized 'sects' was immortalized by the press.

And who's to blame for yet another social phenomena? Most will blame the teenagers themselves. Teenagers not affected by the pengkid culture will blame the religious authorities. Religious authorities will blame parents. Parents will blame teachers. Teachers will blame the community. The community will blame teenagers.

Everyone's playing the blame game. Nobody wants to have anything to do with problems faced by teenagers. So is it not unusual that teenagers act out the way they are doing right now? It is common that teenagers show defiance when ignored by people around them. Hot blooded and full of angst, they will eventually find refuge among themselves, subsequently turning alien trends or lifestyles into a common ground between them. I mean, have you seen a mat rempit doing stunts all by himself? Or a pengkid smoking cigarette at Bukit Bintang by herself?

Malaysians' hypocrisy is in fact, legendary. Parents who found out their children are Pengkids will stare at the ceiling and raise their hands to pray "Ya Allah ya Tuhanku. Kenapalah anak aku jadi begini?" without realizing that they once had bushy Paula Abdul hairdos, electric blue eyeshadows, skimpy printed leopard outfits and spent most of their free nights dancing the night away to tunes like George Michael's Wake Up Before You Go-Go.

The practice of dressing up as the opposite sex is similar to maknyahs so they should be called tranvestites instead, not pengkid. Dressing up to mimic the opposite sex is haram. Homosexuality is haram. Yoga is haram. But seriously, not all Malaysians have thorough understanding of Islam and Haram to some doesn't mean anything. Do pengkids have sex with girls? But how lah? They 'scissors' issit?

I have a feeling that not all pengkids are sexually active lesbians. They are just slightly masculine girls. We shouldn't have problems with slightly masculine females. Dato' Azalina is slightly masculine and unmarried but that didn't deter her from being successful.

Personally, I think pengkids are faking it. They are not as passionate about football like reasonably effiminate girls like Lubna nor do they enjoy watching contact sports like Pro wrestling or Sumo. They fake it because they feel secluded from the hot girls circuit. Since they have big frames and are slightly chubby, they failed in generating sexual interest of men yang suka usha usha benda baek. So they get their revenge by dressing up as boys and get the hottest girls to go out with them. Maka berkuranglah perempuan berspecies hot in the hot girls circuit. But that's my personal opinion lah.

(But whatever it is, I can't help but to laugh at pengkids sense of style. All lebih kurang. G.I. Joe shorts, polo shirts yang colar ala2 pelakon Korea, beaded necklace, pasar malam shades and excessive amount of Brylcreem. It's so very amatuer-ish, very unlike our professional MakNyahs.)

When a person is down with a desease, will we cure it by telling him again and again that he will die if the desease spread and his body deteriorate? Or will we diagnose his body and cure him with the best medical solution?

What they need are ears to listen to their problems, mouths to sooth their troubled souls, hands to embrace their shivering bodies and love to realize their self worth. Instead they are patronized by people who are supposed to guide them.

Macam mana ni bhai?

Wat Er F all


I went to Sungai Pisang hidden waterfall with friends yesterday. I wanted to blog about it yesterday but I found it difficult to describe something that totally pulls out the reality that binds my sense of relativity. I guess that's why people write and read poems because there are some experience that's best described by granting plausible voids.

Frog infested tunnels, impossible steps, riverbends with pulling current, spiked shrubs and prickly highway heat.

Moist frog skin, reaching leeches, crumbling rocks, the journey teach us.

Washing sounds, chirping birds, nesting bees, the destination meet us.

Sheltered sky, raining leafs, climbing branches, the wind heave us.

Icy water, slippery rocks, clean sand, tranquil current, nature's pieces.

Climbing peaks, hesitating, "death is in God's hands"

Resting fate on the mercy of gravity, holding breath, clasping palms.

Gasping for air, air, air, red stinging palms.

Higher peaks, higher, higher, even redder palms,

"Cukuplah tu Afiq! Ko budget ko ni Tarzan ke hape?"

"Tinggi-tinggi sangat ni ko ni baik bawak mengucap!"

shouts a friend from below.

"I don't care." Afiq adopts an Indian accent.

Another drop of destiny, stinging palms, red palms.

The journey back, whizzing traffic, smiling bus drivers, waving japanese tourists.

"We were young once." they beam and smile and wave.

And reminisce.

Senaman Hadhari


Bernama - 2 hours 43 minutes agoPENANG, Oct 29 (Bernama) -- The National Fatwa Council will come out with a ruling relating to yoga exercise soon.

The announcement would be made by the council's chairman, Prof Datuk Dr Abdul Shukor Husin, said Deputy Director-General (Operations) of the Department of Islamic Development Malaysia (Jakim) Othman Mustapha.

He told reporters this after opening the two-day seminar on Islamic Jurisprudence and Eternal Islamic Thinking at Universiti Sains Malaysia jointly organised by the Islamic Studies Division of the university's Human Knowledge Study Centre and Jakim here today.

Yesterday, lecturer Prof Zakaria Stapa of Universiti Kebangsaan Malaysia's Islamic Studies Centre advised Muslims who have taken up yoga to stop practising it for fear that it could deviate their belief.-- BERNAMA


So now the national fatwa council members are idiots? Isn't that just plain disrespectful. It's like calling priests or spritual leaders bigots. Aiyo, Michelle Gunaselan. I don't like her KLUE monthly column at all. She's a racist bigot who plays the Liberal card more often than the amount of times I wank in a month.

I don't see the fuss is all about though. Pokemon was also once haram but I played it anyway with friends and when our Ustaz asked us what we were playing...

"Kamu main Pokemon yang haram tu ke?"

"Eh bukan, kami tengah main Doraemon ustaz..."

"Oh Doraemon, ingatkan Pokemon. Comel ye binatang
tu."

So let's say the Nat Fatwa haramkan Yoga, muslims can simply alter some parts of it like injecting Islamic elements like berzikir while meditating. When the Nat Fatwa council officers visit premises that practice Yoga....

"Ha! Kamu buat apa ni? Kamu tau tak yang Yoga
Haram!"

"Subhanallah, walhamdulillah, walailahaillah, allahuakbar"
(meditating)

"Cik, cik tak dengar ke....."

"Eh Ustaz, assalamualaikum. Kami tengah membuat Senaman Hadhari ni, bukan Yoga."

"Oh Senaman Hadhari yang diendorse Datin Seri Jeanne tu? Boleh kami sertai sekali?"

We went through spiked shrubs, steep steps, a dark frogs infested tunnel, river bends with pulling current and sharp bamboos for half an hour to get to two awesome waterfalls. If you've been to Sungai Pisang's hidden waterfalls, you'll know what I'm talking about.












Dasar Pandang Timur

Since the holidays are coming, I'm thinking of letting my hair grow a little bit longer than the usual one sided fringe. I'm thinking long wavy sideburns that slightly covers my ears. I'm thinking lingering fringe.

I'm thinking of going Korean!

I know some people tried the hairstyle only to look like an Indie music enthusiast or a minimalist artist lookalike but I'm sure I can pull it off. I mean look at the plus side, I'll get make my rather oblong head rounder and act korean and shit. I can even melatah like one. Instead of "Opocot mak engko" I'll go "Park paryo sumida"


And instead of going "Fuckity fuck fuck fuck" when I get frustrated, I can opt a simple "Aaieeeeesh, Aaieeess -yo". I can even speak english like a korean. "Oh my Goood, theez iz greaoyt!"

When I'm broke I can eat maggi but tell people I eat Ramyon. Or I can find a girlfriend by acting cool in front of a high end cafe and wait for an unsuspecting clumsy but cute korean girl to accidentally bump onto me.

An yoh hashimni kah, chay rahmun Afiq Deen-Yo

Our Malaysian 007?

Malaysians are known for our ability to assimilate foreign cultures and intergrate them to suit our taste. If you think Malaysians are blockheads with heads up our asses, you must be either a politician or a politician. My Tok Nab makes spaghetti melayu yo, you know the kind that has to be tumis-ed with a bit of belacan, garlic and palm oil.

Back when globalization was in full swing, we adapted the syndicated Bond movie and made our very own Gerak Kilat with Jefri Zain as the agent with the licence to kill. "Nama saya Zain, Jefri Zain."

Singapore was still a Malaysian state then. When we seperated, we killed P. Ramlee, made rubbish movies and sprout a new movement, the livelier than life Indie scene. Soon the movie business will be in full swing again and there'll be a time when future producers (who were once demonized indie filmmakers) will start to think to make a big budget action movie. Add the must-have ingredients like big explosions, chasing helicopters, the most expensive car of that time (to be crashed and exploded), expensive disposable buidings (to be exploded) and a tonne of Brylcreem and voila, our very own Bond movie. What's missing are the actors and actresses.



Who will play James Bond, the suave womanizing secret agent cum assasin?
Imagine a peaceful wide view scenery of Pulau Redang. A posh kenduri kahwin is on its way by the beach and the bride as it seems, is crying under her feathery veil. As she walks to the pelamin, the evil-looking crowd looks on, gritting their teeth and exchange piercing gazes to eachother. She sits on her pelamin chair. Her new husband, a mafia who owns a franchise of illegally imported belacan flashed a gatal smile.
A few miliseconds before the mafia kiss his wife for the furious Mangga and URTV photographers, a speedboat plummets from nowhere. A well suited man on the boat grabs the bride by her hips, gently throws her into a cushy mattress in the boat, pulls out a grenade and cordially greets the awe-struck crowd with an "Assalamualaikum." BOOOOM!
The speedboat escapes the explosion by a mere second. The bride strips off her wedding gown, revealing a sexy batik ensemble by Tom Abg Saufi. "Oh Abang Bond, rupanya awak tak melupai janji manis awak bulan lepas." Siti grabs the protective pole and immerse herself with the wind so she could show off her hourglass figure without being dubbed as sexually provocative by the Censorship Board. Datuk Khalid Jiwa smiles and caresses his thick moustache. "Semanis-manis janjiku dan air sirap catering tadi, manis lagi senyuman saudari."


Who will play James Bond, the sweet talker with a dictionary of narratives?

"Tangkap dia!" a mandur of an illegal paddy processing factory shouts to his men. A group of Indonesian men gives chase to a handsome man in bernama shorts and British-India casual shirt who had sneaked his way into the factory.
Bond hides behind a tree trunk, takes out an astro remote control from his pocket and press the mysterious red button. The paddy field opens up mechanically and a platform rises with a red Mazda RX8. (we can only afford to explode this model) Bond sprints his way to the car, shuts the bullet-proof windows to evade bullets shot by the immigrants. He takes out his astro remote control and dials in a code.
The mandur orders a hault. "Diam! Diam!" he hears a hissing sound coming from the gates surrounding the illegal factory. He runs to the gate and finds out that the hissing comes from lit TNTs strapped to the gates. BOOOOM! Karam Singh Walia makes his way to the main road and opens the car window to let in fresh air "Harapkan pagar, pagar makan padi."



Who will play James Bond's booty call who will eventually die after being deflowered by Bond?

Zarina Ann Julie


Who will play M, the hard-ass head of secret service?

The TUDM General contemplates on bombing a van packed with explosives parked at Seri Rampai LRT station. (the government already approved the free demolition by movie producers to minimize government spending) M frowns and calls for Miss Money Penny played by Sheila Rusli. "Get me Bond, get me Bond now!" "Ya segera tanter." Miss Money Penny returns to her desk to continue with the latest scoop on Norman Hakim's adultery case to her good friend as quickly as possible so she could call Bond.

"What we have here is a no-brainer. I say just bomb the goddamn station before it detonates and kill millions!" The General spits in his Maxis coffee mug. "But thousands will perish if we bomb it now, without notice." said M as she walks to the projection screen and points at the google map indication of the LRT station which is just beside an indication of Rumah Kenduri Kahwin Ashari dan Aisyah.

"I'm sorry madame, I think you don't have the balls to act on situations like this." The General sips a bit of coffee from his Celcom mug to enhance the aftertaste of his knock-out sarcasm. "That may be, but remember General, I don't have to spend most of my time thinking about them too. Money Penny! Have you contacted Bond yet?" "Iya, sudah tanter, katanya, dia enggak mboleh. Dia ada hal sedikit di bank di Ampang, ATM kadnya ditelann." Money Penny speeds off to her desk to sort things out with a chinese mechanic who's waiting for Bond outside the bank to get his payment for replacing the Mazda RX8's coolant container.

"We have 5 more seconds until detonation. What's your call M?" The General takes a Digi mug and throws it to the projection screen, turning the screen Celcom-blue.

"I, I, I...... I..."

Amazing

Barack Obama is now the President of United States! Amazing. Just like India's first Sikh Prime Minister Manmohan Singh. Or the dictator of Jewish origin by the name of Adolf Hitler who massacred millions of Jews. Or the Austrian bodybuilder who became the governor of California. What next? A Tibetan Chinese President? A talking goldfish?
When it comes down to it, we are still humans with similar aspirations, inspiration and yeah that too, perspiration.
A few decade ago, the very idea of a half Kenyan president was incomprehensible. Like BN being a multicultural party. I know it seems like impossible now but in less than five years, it will eventually happen. This is where it's all going anyway right?
Right. Last exam tomorrow.
Right.

Mistakes

Life is all about making mistakes and learning from them. Mistakes are shared. Children learn from their parents’ mistakes and often have the insights from their parents to straighten their own path to avoid the same mistakes. But when mistakes are done to children, and with no sense of apology as to admit them, mistakes are bound to escalate within inflicted children as they grow up, unconsciously or not.

There’s not a day I don’t miss her. Not a day passed without her shadow lurking behind mine, clinching my conscience. I walk past those shadows and loathe how it resembles mine. How I’m becoming the very thing I hate about the very person I love. I can see how her mistakes are becoming mine and how my mistakes are becoming an embodiment of myself.

Contrary to popular belief, love does not heal anything nor does it play a role in mediating mistakes. Love is a natural process. It is a process to build as it is a process to destroy. In any comprehensible terms, love is still, within the limit of human understanding, unconditional. It simply means love is there and hey, do whatever you want with it.

But love will never discredit mistakes. The notion of love being the silent apologizer is preposterous. Why then do we have to beg for forgiveness from God for all our sins? Shouldn’t loving God suffice as an apology?

I know she will never admit her mistakes. I know she thinks that her mistakes are all justifiable and how they are not intended by her. I know she thinks she made them because she had no other choice. I know she feels that her mistakes weren’t even mistakes to begin with. I know all this, and despite my acute reasoning, I await the moment when I can prowl behind her back and nudge her repeatedly with accusing Aha-s.

"Dream on." I will tell myself each time that thought resurface. "Dream on."

My animosity is feeding my indifference. My indifference is feeding my ego. My ego is feeding me with 'principles'. And my principles is telling every other part of my conscience to shut the fuck up.

Only I can stop the cycle from repeating its wheel of fire. I am aware of this. I am very aware of this. At the same time, I am a servant of my own ego and the burden of holding in so much is wearing out my patience and turning every painful memories into spiteful vengeance.

The fire is nearing. Is my bucket of water enough to keep me from burning myself? Will it be ever enough to wash away the fire altogether. Or will I fight fire with a more powerful fire and join the cycle?

Exam Mode

Afiq Deen is currently undergoing a strict exam season regime from Monday to Thursday. He will limit his daily activities to

  1. Studying
  2. Eating healthy
  3. Working out
  4. Watching Celebrity Apprentice

So he could

  1. Pass his exams
  2. Lose his Raya excess weight
  3. Gain some mass
  4. Get inspired to be Someone

Till then peeps!