A little while ago I mentioned in this blog that I wanted to write some stuff but had an episode. It's difficult to write about this but it is something I gotta do. This is the first installment.

Preparing mutton soup can be a painstakingly long process. Especially, when you're preparing it to feed close to 400 soldiers. A glance towards the clock tells me that it had been almost an hour. It's almost done but I'll let it simmer for about 15 more minutes.

That was when I decided to go for a smoke break. It was a first for me. Usually I'd go for a break after I'm done cooking. It was a strange morning. My inner senses were on overdrive but I just can't seem to figure out what's bothering me. I'd done halfway when I put out the cancer stick. Something in me became real urgent. Rational thoughts aligned with reason of immorality; leaving behind the soup undone. As I strode into the kitchen again, a dear colleague rushed up to me and put out her hand to me. In it was a piece of crumpled paper. I looked at it blankly. Before I could say anything she held my shoulder and said that I should call the number scribbled in the piece of paper that I held.
I examined the piece and could make out a cell phone number. Familiar. It was my sister's. I looked at my colleague. She was looking strangely at me. I was trying to figure out where she'd gotten the number from.
"Go! It's an emergency." she shoved me into the office adjacent to the kitchen.

My brother was at the other end of the line when I called.
"Go to the university hospital now. She's critical."
"Who???" I asked. The old woman had tripped herself a couple of times before...
"Big sis...I'll meet you up with mom later," he hung up.

10 minutes later I was on a bus en route to the National University Hospital. It was just a stop away from where I worked. And when I reached the ICU, the nurses told me my sis was still in the operation theatre. I felt my knees go weak. What happened? What's wrong with her?
I pleaded with the nurses to tell me something. Anything. They were no help at all, telling me to wait for the doctors to come out of the operating theatre. And so I waited. One of the nurses commented that I was a very calm person. What does she mean?? I'm always like that. Control is vital in situations like these.

Suddenly the doors opened, and I saw her. Oh God! What happened to her??? They shaved off her head and there was a tube coming out of her head. I walked up to a red haired guy wearing green. He's a surgeon. He acknowledged my presence and pulled me into a small office just behind the nurses' counter.

"...has a massive haemorrage inside her head. It's all we could do to drain the blood out. We don't want to risk a c-section 'cos her brain is swelling, if we do, chances are it might just pop out."
"...she was in a coma when she was brought in..."
"...I'm just an ER doc. My job's to stabilize her..."

I was trying very hard to focus on what he was saying but for some reason I keep zoning in and out. Dear God, for any autistic imperfections You've might bestowed upon me, let it not manifest now...especially now...

As I stood by her bed, I could almost hear my heart breaking into pieces. What happened? What in the world just happened?
I didn't realize my brother standing beside me. He motioned with his head to the visitor's lounge.

Later, I was told that both my brother & mom found my sister on her bedroom floor unconcious. She was foaming at the mouth and that they tried to revive her. And when they couldn't, they sent for the ambulance to take her to the hospital. What really hit me was when they told me they found her perhaps, an hour or so after I left the house for work.

You see, when I woke up to get a shower, I saw her in her bedroom on the bed, moving around; the kind you'd do to keep yourself awake on the bed. When I'm done showering and were about to get to my room I glanced into her bedroom again, she wasn't on the bed but I could hear breathing noises. I figured she'd gone sleeping on the floor. It was quite warm. I figured she doesn't have to go to work that day because if she did, she would've been outside the bathroom waiting for me to finish. Now I figured that if I had not been an idiot, I would've gone into her bedroom to check on her. If I had...then. Maybe things would've been different. Maybe I could've prevented this from happening.

Close relatives rushed by consoling my mom. Grandma was a wreck. I desperately text my buddy. I needed a friend. My baby sis was upset but she's a strong one. She knows she had to be strong for everyone. My nephew wasn't helping at all. He threw tantrums & cried. He clearly made his point that he doesn't want to be there at the hospital.
She loved him, my sister. She would've fussed over him and showered silly loving murmurs over my nephew if she could. Only she couldn't then, could she? She's in a coma. And my mind paused along with her. I paused. And I paused. My heart didn't. It continued to break. Every single second, it breaks.

It's half past 1 and I'm still groggy. I did an overtime on a saturday yesterday and it sucked big time. Although it was an experience with this new job, it wasn't anything new to me. I used to do it in my old job over at LTA. Speaking of which, I noticed that people really can't get over the fact that I actually quit my job over at LTA.

LAND TRANSPORT AUTHORITY. A semi government body that supposedly offers job security. I'll concede that it had its perks working there BUT...the things I gotta put up with!!!

1) Ultra Bitch for a boss
2) Idiocy of people whom had been there waaay too long
3) Never ending complaints of the Republic

I do not have a formal high education....wait! Should that go with the rest...bulleted?

Like I said, O levels and a little tech ed did it for me. In introspect, I have a passion for learning. Restropectively, NS killed it. So, my ex boss was a graduate from a local tech Uni & we got off in the wrong butts the first time we actually met.
Short story...she tried to unload her shortcomings on me in this high profiled meeting, expecting a lowly educated blue-collar like me to cower & lip in the presence of such eminence.
End story...she found out I had balls bigger than her tits twice combined, and had better grasp of the language than she does. I totally disarmed her obnoxious plastic exterior with what we blue-collars refer to as a dick-slap.
The twist...she took over when my boss got promoted & made life at work a living hell.

She wanted to vet my correspondence to the Public claiming that I had problems with structuring my sentences!! The nerve of that bloody helicopter! She couldn't get past singularizing plurals & she wanted to correct MY English? *angry*
I remembered my response to an episode when we were arguing that sent the whole office laughing at her, literally, which also made her take it very personal; I said, "If you're so adamantly tight as to wanting to assess my language usage, take it up to Queen Elizabeth! I'm sure she could do a thing or two to that horrific articulation of yours!"
And I dramatically walked off, leaving the incense Ultra Bitch in an echo laughter of the whole office.

My requests for transfers were turned down and as days goes by I really wanted to execute a perfect roundhouse kick to her chin. The last straw was when I found out that she had been responsible for holding back my double promotion. I had all the managers coming up to me congratulating me before it was formally announced in the internal circular. When it didn't happen, everyone was puzzled. After that, I had to go because I really didn't wanna be in the headlines of the news - "Woman Pestled to Death with Mineral Water Bottle by Subordinate."

I'm much happier now...honest!

The High Society

It had been a weird experience since my time in KL. Unmistakeably, there had been a few turning points but I ain't mentioning. I just don't wanna jinx it.

Quite recently, I have been told that I'd trespassed a sacred sanctum of certain coven, a high society of sorts. I was appropriated because of a regard that was supposedly given to me. A Trust thrusted to me because I simply was. And my actions was somehow in grievious contradiction of an unwritten code embedded within walls of this pitiful sanctity. Well, at least that is what I think.

Anger, hate & raw frustrations were what, an unstable psyche, lashed out at me. Demanding me. Threatening me. It takes a few to know that I do not respond well to threats at all. At times, response is not even an option.

I wonder these...social elites, as they'd like to perceive themselves; react if they knew that I am above such pitiful antics.

I am within my rights to speak freely whom I deemed fit to speak to. My only consolation is an extension of empathy in contrast to my apathy; they do not realize the depth of my own actions. It is one that I do not expect from them.

But know this. I am not alone as I am weak as I often appear to be; looks can be deceiving. I do not enggage in a simpleton challenge but yet; still water runs deep & don't dream of crossing oceans where currents are immeasurable...
In other words...You just got served! And you don't even know it.

CONCEIT; excessive appreciation of one's own worth or virtue

It's one thing to be egotistical and another being conceited. But, having both acquired qualities at the same time! Odious!


I'd imagine that a person this unique, revels in the nucleus of attention; smiling and laughing at nothing and everything amidst his/her silicon world of non-existence. Simply because there aren't any substance of reality to begin with. Both the words, ego & conceit, implies delicately on one's mental coherence of what is. Hence, it will be very likely a grave & almost-fatal flaw to ever conceive the notion or idea that one should try correct an affected person.

But what if the consequences resulted by the affected person are indeed grave? Does subtlety have meaning at all here? Bringing up issues only to be thrown back flatly into your own face, there's no reasoning affected people! So why even try at all???

HUMILITY
The state or quality of being humble; freedom from pride and arrogance; lowliness of mind; a modest estimate of one's own worth; a sense of one's own unworthiness through imperfection and sinfulness; self-abasement; humbleness.

Some of us practise it...