A couple of days ago, as I was staring at a rack of chocolates I texted some of my friends and asked "will you get me chocolates if I wanted them?"

No one said yes. :( (can you believe it???????)

Instead, they asked "what for?", "are you okay?" and questions along those lines - and one even said "if you need them." I was feeling a little bummed over the replies, but then I kind of knew that that's what they'd say. They know me too well and for far too long. I don't ask for favors for things I can do myself.

Anyway, I grabbed and put several bars of Lindt's dark chocolate into my basket, for myself and some others I thought, like me, could also use some chocolates. I was feeling generous.

Yesterday night, I received an early birthday gift. It came in a bag, and when I opened it, I saw "Royce" (although, as you can tell, the words "cooling bag" was more attention grabbing). At this, I blurted "how did you know I wanted chocolates?", and the reply was along the lines of "I didn't... I just guessed".

At that moment, I felt like bawling into tears, although, really, I have always complained that chocolates are too cliché and that if anyone were to get me anything, it has to be something I couldn't get for myself even if I wanted to. Like a poem, a story, a painting, a doodle, a song, homemade meals, cookies, cards or whatever. Something personalised.

Maybe it was how the gift made me feel that it was okay if for a split second I wanted some chocolates like the rest, and that I could ask for chocolates and expect to have some.

To hope, I think. That's it. To hope.

That while we do not always get what we want, sometimes life presents us with surprises and we're given what we need. And in my case, it was hope in the form of a bag of chocolates.

:)

And it reminded me also of a beautiful quote in Coelho's Eleven Minutes: "when I stopped being who I am, I found myself."

A story I wrote on 28.8.2012

There was a mango, among many other mangoes in a market... One day, it caught your attention- maybe it's how it is just ripe the way you like it, or how it's just the size you wanted it to be. So you walked to it, and every step you took added to your mounting hope. You thought to yourself "could this be it, could this be the mango... perfect for me?" And when you were finally close enough, you reached your hand out, touched it, and picked it up. And so it rose, leaving the rest of the mangoes behind. Among the many, it was chosen. By you. 

Just as you were about to put it in your basket, you noticed the rotten spot on it you didn't at first. You felt angry... cheated, deceived, disappointed! All your hopes, collapsed in mere seconds. You threw it back down, and picked another up. It was not as ripe as you would like. It was not the size you wanted. But it was not rotten. 

You went home and told your friend about your encounter with the rotten mango. He sympathised and said "oh well, it was rotten...." When you took out the mango you bought, your friend exclaimed "why, that's a very nice mango you have there!" It comforted you. You thought to yourself again "well, this was not the mango I wanted, but my friend is right. It's not rotten, and I should be grateful."

And you were happy with your mango. Your friends were happy that you're happy. 

But no one thought of the rotten mango, still sitting in the market. How it was picked up, and later, thrown aside. How the rotten mango was given false hope it didn't ask for. 

The fruit-seller realised this. How the mango always attracted customers to his shop. The fruit-seller also noticed how each buyer will eventually throw that mango away at the sight of the rotten spot, but will eventually buy another. Few walked away empty handed.

Time passed, and one day the fruit seller noticed how the mango was more rotten than it used to be. Maybe it's the many throws, maybe it's the natural process of rippenning. The fruit seller noticed how the rotten mango was emitting a foul smell, chasing all his customers away. So he took the mango, and threw it away. 

And the mango was never seen and heard of, since.

A poem I wrote about 4 years ago.

"In you I see my other half,

You teased, tickled, and made me laugh,

I went against all odds and fought,

To be the princess that you sought.

I dreamt that there would be a day,

When you would stand in my way,

You'd grab and sweep me off my feet,

Our bodies unite our lips would meet.

I fought and tried to make you mine,

Set the mood, candlelights, and wine,

I waited and waited but in vain,

You treated me with disdain.

One day you knelt and held my hand,

Alas my dream came to an end,

How could I not feel a thing?

Why didn't my heart leap and sing?

In you I see my painful past,

That I am able to let go at last,

Silly and naive I had fought,

But you're not the prince I sought."

I have been to the KL High Court, Shah Alam High Court, and the Putrajaya Federal Court / Court of Appeal a couple of times now, but today I'm at the court for my second case management. Got down the cab and for the first time saw this building from this POV. It's beautiful. (it's partly how clear and blue the sky is, yay!)

Anyway, to get to the court, I have to use the public transport now that I don't drive. And I have taken the cab for a few times now.

What's amusing is that I have been asked the same questions over and over again, in more or less this order:

(1) Cina ke? 

(2) Umur berapa? 

(3) Sudah kahwin ke? 

(4) Lawyer ke?

More interesting than the questions themselves is actually the order that they come in. Don't you think?

Every single time.

Anyway - if it interests you:

(1) Malaysian

(2) Muda selalu

(3) Insya Allah

(4) Kuli

While I was having a short early dinner (coz I had to skip lunch) after work today a couple who sat at a table near mine was also having theirs.

Throughout, neither spoke to each other. They were both on their phone. And when they were not, they couldn't or wouldn't look at each other. Not a single word was exchanged. It was as if two strangers somehow ended up having their dinner together on the same table. It was as if they would rather be anywhere else. What could they be thinking?

And that reminded me of what a friend once said -
"it's easier to connect with a stranger because you know so little and there's so much to talk about. But it's not as easy to connect with someone you have known for years." 

And also what I once said -
"the longer I know a person the more quiet and distant I become".

And maybe also what One Republic once said (or sang) -
"I loved you with a fire red now it's turning blue".

Goodnight.

My students' parents have never really asked and I have never really told them what I really do.

And when out of the blue I was asked today, I said "Law...". And they looked at me as if I am a little dinosaur or something.

So yes, I know it is weird, but your daughter's piano teacher is a lawyer-to-be.

P.S.: I guess I should be expecting from these parents a string of law-related questions soon - which, I am more than to glad to advice - although, I'll be sure to end it with a "I am telling you this in the capacity of your kid's piano teacher..." caveat. And yes, don't even get me started on the various deals I negotiated and entered with these kids. 

The other day during our Legal Aid Mid-Term review, I shared how privileged I felt to be serving my duty at the AWAM Centre because it's not everyday that I get to listen to stories of women from all walks of life. I said "I felt like I have lived the lives of many women" and joked how "I don't have to be married to know what could possibly go wrong in a marriage".

But more than imparting to these women legal knowledge (which in itself is a fulfilling experience), I enjoyed learning from them about love and life.

But the saying "ignorance is bliss" holds true too. If anything I felt like I have also turned more cynical than ever when it comes to men, relationship, and marriage.

This cynical part of me has sometimes kept me very detached and aloof. To a point where I sometimes question my ability to build any form of real connection and am taken aback by how quickly I can withdraw at the sign of a "potential" problem.

On a separate but somewhat related note - a couple of weeks ago, I dropped my phone in one of the trains (I was going to post about this but then I got distracted and somewhat snowed under by work and convocation). My friend who had helped trace my phone's location until its GPS was turned off somewhere near Putra was sure that it's gone. I couldn't help but agree. But deep down I held vehemently on to the belief it'll miraculously be found. I wailed "but I always make it a point to return lost and found things" to which he replied "you're in Kay Elle not some kampong".

And like some happy ending to a kid's tale - my phone was eventually found at the Masjid Jamek station. My friend went "So? Faith in humanity restored?".

What happened was necessary to remind me how hopeful I can be and still am in most things. And I am happier that way. To be genuinely surprised by life than to nitpick on disappointments and unmet expectations.

So I guess, while life, love and sometimes law are plagued with problems they rest on the very foundation of "hope in the good". And whatever I do I must not lose hope. Because who knows? I might just be pleasantly surprised by what life, love and the law have to offer.

The other day I was strolling down the road when a Bangladeshi (possibly a waiter of some restaurant) stopped, pulled his wallet out, and took out a RM10.00 note. Then he gave it to an old Malay beggar by the stairs!

Kinda speaks volumes about the state that our country is in today.

4 years in law school, never had a proper picture with the infamous white picket fence... until today.

On a side note, when I was younger I used to hate to guts how thick my hair is because I have this weird belief that my hair made my head look super huge, and how it's dull and dry. So I would always tell the hair-dresser to layer my hair. The more of it chopped off, the lesser I have of it - the better.

Over the years, I have learned to embrace my thick hair, and- many other things about myself, including my somewhat voluptuous body, and my petite height. Also, my rather deep (commanding) voice, for my size.

Long story cut short - being comfortable in one's own skin is also what makes one beautiful.

Yesterday night I dreamed of running away from liars who tried to con me into being kidnapped. All I had with me is a skateboard but they had bikes and cars. Some pretended to help, some begged for help. They ran and chased. They wanted to take the only thing I had away from me - my skateboard. So I ran and ran. I trusted no one. I hid behind walls and between corners. 

Liars! Liars everywhere! 

They are searching. They are waiting.

And then my alarm rang.

Why didn't I set my alarm to ring earlier? WHY?

P.s. In my dream, I can suddenly skateboard. How cool is that.

So before I started my pupillage I did sales for a toy cum souvenirs company. One customer was particularly "difficult" in the sense that he had something to rebut to everything I had to say to sell. 

After about 30 minutes of discourse, he asked "are you the sales manager?" I said "no, just a promoter. I started just 2 days ago." Shocked, he said "your company's lucky to have you. You sell so passionately! I thought you have been in this for years! You know your products well." And then he handed me his name card, and said "are you interested in selling insurance? If you are give me a call. I am recruiting for my team." I laughed and said, "I'm a law graduate and I'll be starting my pupillage soon". Disappointed, he asked "then why are you doing this?" I said "why not? I have not done it before..."

I wasn't given any product or sales training. I was only told by my then boss "Aiyaaah you are loyar, you can tok one lahh."

Well.

Yesterday, I dreamed of being a part of some blind-date reality TV show.

So we the contestants were randomly paired up, and what we had to do was to waltz to this Disney song.

My partner was so handsome that I couldn't look at him in the face without having a stupid grimace on mine. So for the whole time I buried my face in his chest, which happens to be huge, broad, and muscly like a wall. He didn't mind, and said, "okay you move this leg behind, and this leg forward..."

... And my stupid alarm rang.

WHY????

Hello there my kitty cat

You’re more than just a pet 

I wanna ruffle your fur 

Wanna make you purr 

Let me tickle your belly 

Turn your insides all jelly 

Oh my kitty cat

We’re not finished yet!

Me: How old are you? 

Little girl: 5 and a half. You? 

Me: Take a guess? 

Little girl: 15!

Me: *Laughs* I am 24. 

Little girl: *gasps* You're old!! Do you have kids... Like me? 

Me: *Laughs* No...

Little girl: Do you have husbands? (she said it in plural) 

Me: *pulls sad face* No... 

Little girl: Well why wouldn't you want to have them?

A while ago, (well, actually a very very long while ago - but I am not that old) I dated this guy, and like all dating couples, we went for movies.

Like most guys, he is into action-packed / super-hero kind of movies, with loads of butt-kicking and buildings crumbling everywhere. So, for as far as I could remember, those were the only kind of movies that we would go for. Well, partly because he was always the one to ask for a movie first, and he was almost always ready with something in mind. And I didn't really mind then, because I am not exactly a movie-kind of person, and I felt like it wouldn't really make that much of a difference to me.

This one time though, he asked "what would you like to watch?". I was of course, genuinely surprised. I thought it was very sweet of him to ask. So I told him "The Princess and the Frog".

What, or how he responded after that was shocking. He looked troubled at first, and after pausing for a while, he said "I wouldn't waste money to watch animation/cartoon in a cinema... " (by the way, we "went Dutch", so he wasn't talking about my share, if you're wondering...)

Of course, I was appalled. If anything, he meant that what I liked (to watch) was really a "waste of money". Seeing my expression, he quickly added, "I am sorry, I am a very honest person... and everyone knows I don't like wasting money."

Three things became clear to me:

1. While honesty may be the best policy, it is of no avail when it comes to selfish behaviors. 

2. While the "get-the-best-value-for-your-money-mentality" is commendable, quantifying everything in monetary terms isn't. For example, money can't buy the experience of watching together with your other significant, a movie he/she likes (applies to food and other activities).

3. He did at least one thing right - he showed his true colors, in time.

p.s. The Princess and the Frog is the bomb.

When I was younger, at about 15, I dated this boy. He knew I was the school pianist - and said he wanted to hear me play something for him. So, I played him a piece from Chopin. Mid-way he stopped me and said "this song, that you play... it is not nice. Old-sounding. Boring. Play songs that my friends play... songs from Jay Chou..."

So for a while, I hated to guts classics like Chopin, Haydn, and Bach that I learned by heart, and have grown to love. And I swore to never play them "old-sounding, boring classics". I kept all my books away in a box. Instead, I played Mando-pop and English hits - that are more "current" and easier to relate to... but with less than impressive finger-works and techniques. Songs that I could easily play by ear.

Over the years, I saw how silly I was. There was nothing wrong with what I played, with what I loved (and still love) to play. There was nothing wrong with me. I just happened to be dating the wrong boy. A boy, who, like the many can relate to and enjoy good ol' Mando-pops and English Hits, but, like the many, couldn't appreciate the intricacies, or see the beauty of classics like Chopin, Haydn, and Bach.

Thankfully, I will not end up with "the many" who will tell me to be "less assertive", "think less", "aim for less", "take a chill pill", "be less analytical", "be subversive", "be coy", "be modest" etc... the many who will tell me to be "lesser" because they lack the ability to appreciate my intricacies, and see the beauty in what I believe in.

There was and is nothing wrong with me. I just haven't found the one (out of "the many") ... who's right for me.

So I hopped on the bandwagon, and downloaded Tinder. The only picture on my Tinder profile was this grumpy cartoon, and I left the "About You" section empty.

So what I did was, I flicked my thumb to the right to EVERY profile- with my eyes closed (couldn't bear to see what I am swiping  right to - like a mere crotch or other suggestive images).

The surprising (and actually very shocking) thing was that I actually got quite a massive number of matches. Like... who flicks right... to a grumpy cartoon picture and an empty "About You" section - but someone who, like me, gives a right flick to EVERY picture - without looking!

There is still one thing that I couldn't quite figure out though... why some even bothered to say "Hi" after? There is no reason for anyone to start a conversation with a cartoon-faced girl - save for the fact that I may or may not have consciously flicked my finger to the right.

The shitty part is of course when matches ask "so, why did you flick right?", or "you accidentally flicked right, didn't you?" and the many "HEY, ARE YOU GONNA TALK OR WHAT?!?"

It was a very anal thing to do - but I wanted to make a point - that when you do get a match on Tinder - he/she MAY OR MAY NOT be your "match made in heaven" - apart from and in addition to the obvious superficiality, of course.

While it may not be the best app to secure a long lasting relationship - it is pretty entertaining to say the least.

That being said, unless you did what I did - you're NOT "using Tinder for fun" or "checking Tinder out" (as much as you'd like to console yourself).

You are, in all seriousness, using Tinder to 'hook up' in which case, beware; or to find someone you can call your soul mate, which, I will in all honesty advise AGAINST.


p.s.: I do, solemnly apologize to all my matches - who may or may not have voluntarily participated in my mini social experiment on Tinder. 

At Starbucks, and a guy from behind me placed both of his hands over my eyes and asked "guess who?", I said "idk... who?". I felt and pressed his hands, and finally after about 15 seconds - he let go, I turned my head, and...

I REALLY DON'T KNOW HIM (no biggie, since I get stopped by people who read my blog)... but here's the thing... HE DOESN'T KNOW ME EITHER.

He muttered, anxiously, "sorry sorry... I thought you were my friend..." and scurried over to a table across mine with a girl, that I would think does look like me in terms of hair, body size, and dressing.

I dreamed an odd dream last night. 

Well, it was near morning. Perhaps, why I remember it so clearly, except for the last bit - the most important bit I would think.

The dream unfolded this way.

I arrived half an our late to a one-hour "Advanced Maths" class-test. I wasn't in the best of moods... I hated Maths, even in my dreams. I saw an empty seat next to one of the smartest girls in class, Z, quickly sat down, and began reading the questions. As I did this, she peeped at me.

When she saw that I was done reading, but before I managed to write anything, she hushed: "Do you know the answer to this? Quick! Do it and tell me now". I ignored her. Displeased, she continued to pester me. Her hush became louder by the second, and it became apparent to me that all I have left was a pathetic 15 minutes to finish.

Angered and annoyed, I stood up, pointed my finger at her, and yelled: "YOU NEED TO KEEP QUIET! I DON'T KNOW THE ANSWERS!!!" Everyone turned their heads to see. She stared at me, shocked - before bursting into a puddle of tears. I packed all my things, and moved to sit at an empty seat in front of B.

As I sat, B, who happened to be one of my best friends, one that I look up to, that I trust wholeheartedly exclaimed loudly "PEOPLE LIKE YOU DON'T DESERVE ANY FRIENDS!" Being the popular girl that she is, everyone in the class agreed. They looked at me and murmured to each other: "She is so mean!" "Yeah... what a selfish girl..."

I was so disheartened by B's exclamation that I couldn't focus on my paper. I handed in an empty sheet. As we left for another class, although I badly wanted to know why she said what she said, my ego got in the way. I refused to look at her, even.

Later in the evening, she came to me, with tears in her eyes. She looked apologetic, her lips murmuring - but for odd reasons, I couldn't hear a thing. The harder I focused, the more things blurred out. And that's when...

I woke up.

"She was just like everyone else, she endured her loneliness in silence, tried to justify everything she did, pretended to be strong when she was feeling weak or weak when she was feeling strong..."

Eleven Minutes by Paulo Coelho has got to be one of my more favorite reads but it's not a book that I would recommend, simply because I don't think it's one that just anyone can relate to. 

But to help you understand why I like it so much, here are some of my other favorite quotes from the book (but quotes are nothing compared to the story read in its entirety):