around roma in 42 hours

I went to Rome for a short weekend holiday. Ok, I don't think I can call it a holiday cos my legs are still aching from all the walking Farah and I did over the course of three days.

I have never ever, walked so much in my whole entire life.

But I owe Farah a huge gigantic thank you for being such a great travel buddy. If it wasn't for her, I would have never even gone anywhere, as I am -

a) completely idiotic when it comes to directions, even if you stick a map to my head or tattoo it on my body, for that matter

and b) just simple plain hopeless with getting things done on a holiday. I completely switch to 'too-lazy-to-even-pick-up-a-piece-of-toast' mode.

Heh.

But I couldn't do that on this holiday, cos I was the smart one who chose Rome over Barcelona. It was my dream to go back to the place where my parents brought me when I was only knee high. There's a snapshot stored in my mind of a very hot sunny day in beautiful Rome, St Peter's in the background, my parents smiling at my sister and I, whilst we played (read: scared away) the pigeons near the fountains close to the entrance of St Peter's. *click* Very happy times.

So, yeah, Farah was kind of persuaded to go. She's just too kind and polite to say, 'no Cukulut, lets go to Barcelona.'

She did, however, tell me that I should not bring my usual heels for our brief trip. Very wise words which thankfully I listened to, cos we were close to fainting by the time we finished our 14-hour trek around Rome on Saturday.

From the moment we arrived (a delayed flight, wrong bus stop PLUS some rain - puhlease don't ask me to elaborate) to the FULL day of walking on Saturday and nearly missing our flight back to London on Sunday, I enjoyed every second and step of our very hectic yet fruitful trip.

So my dear friends, I'll spare all of you my crazy ramblings and allow the pictures to speak for themselves. I bid you Arriverdeci and buona notte as at this moment in time, I can barely piece two sentences together. I honestly think I left my knee caps near the reject marbles found near the old Palatino ruins, my mind along the walls of the Sistine Chapel and my heart atop St Peter's Basilica.

*sigh*

Ciao...

* arissa iman *

I would like to welcome lil Arissa Iman...we'll spoil you rotten and that's a promise!

Congrats Farrah Naz and Zaidi.


Welcome my lil currypuff!

night, after night, after night...

I wake up gasping for air, it’s the same dream, yet again, night after night, after night...

I shudder and blink my eyes as I try to balance my world, which seems like I am trapped in a crazy kaleidoscope of colours and images which swirl devilishly around me. The misshapen loud illustrations jump at me as if they have a life of their own, coming at me with a vengeance, making me suffocate at the scale of intensity that is reserved only for me…or that is how it seems to be.

I am now sitting upright in my bed, my hands clutch my purple duvet close and tight , so tight that my knuckles hurt and turn white.

Focus, focus on a spot, my heart tells me, and everything will be alright.

I hug my knees and count to ten. Images begin to take shape and I am able to make out the edge of my bed and the haphazard array of shoes in one corner of the room.

After several minutes have passed by, my mind is now able to convince my heart that the room is familiar territory. My eyes turn to glance at my clock. The digital numbers glare at me through the darkness like beady eyes of some ethereal creature. I can barely make out the numbers.

I wake up every single night, amazingly at the exact same time. 3 o’clock..it’s called the witching hour and I understand why.

The eerie silence of the hour makes me remember the dream, and I feel tears start to well up in my eyes. I try, try so hard to blink back the tears and force them to reside within me, and not spill unto my chubby morose cheeks.

My attempts are in vain as the tears just accumulate into a big succession of heart wrenching sobs. The type of sobs that make your body convulse for just one breath of air, the tears you shed when someone dies, the moans and heartache you reserve for a love that was so profound but alas is lost.

The house is quiet and I try to muffle my cries by burying my face in my pillow.

my heart aches…

pines for air…

for love…

for life…

As my tears subside and finally all senses begin to form a delicate equilibrium of mismatched conclusions, I rest my head on my pillow and stare at the wall..wishing and hoping that if I focus long enough, a big black hole will appear out of nowhere and swallow me whole.

This dream will haunt me for a long time to come, I know. It is something I will never forget, though my heart will always wish that someday it will go and leave me alone.

Image taken from: http://www.photoshopcafe.com/cafe/

fitna...in every sense of the word

I just watched Fitna. I know,I know, *tsk*tsk* I’m a bit behind the times and the hype about this movie by Wilder might have already actually died down. However, the upside down smile on my face has only deepened.

I am the last person that you can or should call a devout Muslim. My sins are many and bluntly put, my days in hell are not only confirmed but definitely infinite if counted in terms of the human calendar. However, despite my sin filled ways, I do know that the Quran does not encourage violence in any way.

Anyway, in Bahasa Malaysia (the Malaysian language), Fitna is spelled with a ‘h’ – Fitnah, and means false vindictive rumours, to harm a person or those closest to them. Whilst browsing other blogs, I was lucky enough to come across that of Ihsan Attar’s ‘My Thoughts and Notes’ - http://mymines.blogspot.com/2008/04/fitnaindeed.html. Here, he explains that in Arabic, Fitna means “Creating division and hatred leading to commotion”. Sweeet huh? That means in both Bahasa Malaysia and Arabic, fitna means bad news - literally!

So folks, all the way from snowy London (yep, its friggin snowing in April!) I beg that you please take some time to read Ihsan’s take on the movie as my knowledge of the Arabic language and that of the holy Quran is very limited, which would make my clarification less eloquent.

Ihsan's post helped me understand what has been gravely misinterpreted and falsely depicted in Fitna. Hopefully, by linking his post, it will also help others out there to see and understand what Wilder might have edited and exaggerated to piece together his movie.

Allow me to end this post with Ihsan’s words, ‘I believe that faith does not need to be defended. The aim of my post is not to defend, but rather to clarify.’

I could not agree more!

erm, aiseyman...

Errmmm, aiseyman, I am not usually at a loss for words, but I think this is the first time anybody has been able to make me completely gobsmacked without flashing me a pair of peep-toe Louboutins. Eh, but actually come to think of it, I nearly fainted when I saw her wear a big-collared-circa-70s-hot- pink shirt WITH a purple jacket AND flaired pants to an OFFICIAL FUNCTION not a theme party. Don't get me wrong, that, in my books takes a whole load of guts. My admiration for her knows no bounds, really, I am so not joking.

God bless her soul for making my day...erm...more interesting.

So..please read on and judge for yourself. I think this report speaks for itself.

Azalina: Tourism MoUs with Opposition-ruled states to be terminated

KUALA LUMPUR: Tourism memorandums of understanding with Opposition-ruled state governments will be terminated given the change in leadership, said Tourism Minister Datuk Seri Azalina Othman Said.

She said this was in line with the termination of Tourism Action Councils in the states which were previously chaired by Barisan Nasional’s state executive councillors in charge of tourism in each state.

“Normally, the council works together with the state executive council and local authorities.

“But now that the leadership in the state governments have changed, we have to terminate the MoUs and the councils,” she told a post-Cabinet press briefing yesterday.
Perak, Penang, Selangor and Kedah fell to the Opposition in last month's general election.
Azalina said that a committee would instead be set up, with members appointed by the Federal Government similar to the format implemented in PAS-held Kelantan.

“We will appoint committee members from the tourism community to help develop tourism in these states,” she said.

Azalina said some tourism events, such as the Penang Music Festival (in May) and the Langkawi Water Festival (this weekend), would go ahead and contracts with state contractors would be honoured.

“However, we will re-evaluate plans for other events if they have not started or if the contractors have not been appointed.

“Maybe we have to look at other venues or options. But there is no total boycott in tourism. We have to play it by ear and see what these state governments do,” she added.

Azalina said industry players she met recently, including hoteliers and travel agencies, had expressed concern over tourism in Opposition-held states, given the players’ huge investments, especially in Penang and Kedah.

“They hope there will not be any negative policies in these states that will affect tourism,” she added. On PKR, DAP and PAS’ decision to form Pakatan Rakyat, Azalina said it would not last long given their different policies, unlike Barisan which had the same manifesto for all.

“Politics is a marriage of convenience. Politicians can say anything they want to gain the people’s support.

“Maybe Pakatan Rakyat will work for a month or a year but it will break up in the end as they are too different,” she added.

taken from: http://thestar.com.my/news/story.asp?file=/2008/4/3/nation/20833921&sec=nation

Love is a Losing Game

Don't ask me why, but I just have to post Amy Wino's lyrics for Love is a Losing Game. It reflects my current attitude towards this crazy lil thing called lurve.

*tsk* tsk* I know, I know, many of us go through a lot more adversities than my present-sorry-not-so-hippy-optimist-butt, but still if I can't wallow in self pity on my own blog, then hey, where else can I go?

So, bite me!

Love is a Losing Game

For you I was a flame
Love is a losing game
Five story fire as you came
Love is losing game

One I wish I never played,
Oh, what a mess we made
And now the final frame
Love is a losing game

Played out by the band
Love is a losing hand
More than I could stand
Love is a losing hand

Self professed profound
Til' the chips were down
Know you’re a gambling man
Love is a losing hand

Tho' I battled blind
Love is a fate resigned
Memories mar my mind
Love it is a fate resigned

Over futile odds
And laughed at by the Gods
And now the final frame
Love is a losing game

...and I'm BACK!!

dear all,

am back from a long, long, long silence...missed the world of blogging immensely...

will write longer soon!

*woohoo*