Rain rain go away

Only 2 weeks ago I was complaining about global warming. The sun was pulling faces at us and sweats trailed our backs. Pretty annoying considering by October it’s usually already winter.

 

 

Winter in Bangalore isn’t that cold. The lowest temperature would be around 12 degrees. It’s like walking around in air-condition. Just cold enough for us to put on our coats and jackets and wear layered clothes. An interesting season as this is the time people tend to pull out their best outfits. Well, certain people that is.

 

 

Comparing this year’s winter with last year’s (coz this is only my second year), this year selalu hujan and hembusan angin kuat kuat huh. Colder. Wetter. And yes, increased possibilities of slipping off the stairs and landing on your butt.

 

 

Which happened to me this morning.

 

 

Siot. Sakit ok. Another black and blue for me. And a bump. Ish. Luckily people who witnessed it were my housemates and Syafiq. Helwa boleh pulak tanya, “Nisa! Sakit tak??”

Hello, mestilah sakit! And considering the fact that Syafiq didn’t comment on anything, I was pretty sure he was trying not to laugh out loud =_=

I think I’m somewhat a great person because I’ve experienced almost all types of fall. Ah. Pain. What’s life without it?

 

 

Also, nowadays the sky is always covered with dark clouds. Now whenever I see the sun shining outside, I’d be all giddy and excited and put on my tracksuit and tshirt and go for a jog. I think JP Park is somewhere at the west because when everywhere else is cloudy, there’d definitely be a streak of sunlight there. And I always pretended I was chasing the sun hahahahaha takde kerja.

 

 

Looking at this picture alone gives me a very comfortable feeling ^_^

 

 

 

Humph.

 

 

Sejuk sejuk jogging is pointless. What can I say? I miss the sun. I miss the heat. I don’t really like the cold (nanti dah summer I’ll complain about the humidity pulak you just wait).

 

Which reminds me. Yesterday while I was jogging at JP Park, a young Indian girl in her school uniform approached me.

 

“Aunty, what’s the time?”

Paused Ipod. “Pardon?”

“What’s the time?”

“Oh. It’s 5.30.”

“Thank you aunty!”

“You’re welcome!”

 

 

Smiled and jogged away. What a polite girl. Such pleasant – wait. Did she just called me AUNTY?

 

 

Smile vanished. DO I LOOK LIKE AN AUNTY??? Sister ok, sister!

Juggling

She says there’s a difference between passion and compassion.

 

Passion is a strong emotion- in this case- sympathy.

 

Compassion is a feeling of deep sympathy with a strong desire to alleviate the sufferings.

 

She says,

 

Choose.

Tasty Tangle

After months of delaying, we finally went to Ubicity for dinner last night.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sorang buat pose gedik, the other one was annoyed.

 

 

For appetizers we had,

 

Chicken satay. Rs 139 for 4 sticks. At least they were tasty.

 

 

Prawn crackers which turned out to be keropok udang HAHAHAHA A’IN YANG ORDER.

 

OMG THEY HAD CHICKEN SIEW MAI DUMPLINGS.

 

 

 

I died and went to heaven.

 

 

 

 

 

Our main dishes were:

Kung pao chicken with egg noodles. Too salty for my liking. Blergh.

 

 

Does this look like Laksa Curry to you? More like coconut milk soup to me.

 

 

Like they added too much boiled water into instant tom yam.

 

 

Chicken fried rice. Yosh. TASTELESS.

 

 

 

 

 

Desserts…..

Thai sticky rice pudding. Nice!

 

 

Manggo pudding. It tasted like mango pudding la. No one no where could make any mistake in preparing it.

Unless that person is me. But that is a different story.

 

 

Now this dessert was the nicest of all desserts. Lychee something something I forgot its name.

 

 

Lychee filled with peanut butter. A perfect combo. Yum.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Now, personally I’m not picky when it comes to food. Especially Malay food. If the chicken tasted like chicken and the fish tasted like fish, I’m satisfied. I know! I’m so simple! So when I say the main dishes suck, people should believe me. I could cook tastier fried rice. Ok la, I couldn’t. I don’t even know how to make porridge. But my housemates could!!

 

5/5 for appetizers and desserts though.

 

For a restaurant which served south asian food, the menu was suprisingly…lacking. One page je kot! South Asia besar kot! And they only had 2 types of dumplings. TWO. Even in Miri there are more than 15!

 

I’m sorry it’s just that I’m a Chinese food lover. Not the Beijing ( a restaurant in Bangalore ) type of food either. I want dumplings, and carrot cakes, and butter prawns, and lemon chicken, and jelly fish and a lot la! I want fried pau and home made egg tarts

 

I have yet to find any halal chinese restaurant here in Bangalore so if you guys knew any, please tell me! ^_^

 

Dah I need to complete my record books now.

It’s how you see it

Being in Bangalore for over a year now changes me a lot I guess. This place teaches me to keep an open mind on all matters because nothing is impossible here. Literally. And not necessarily in a good way either.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Up till now, I’ve heard a lot of people complained about being here. I know most of them prefer studying in local universities rather than India. And that, irks me. A lot. Not so much on their complains but more on the fact that they’re medical students who’ve experienced living in India.

 

 

I’m not saying this place has no flaws. Yes, they are no factory outlets here. It’s tiring having to argue with the auto drivers everyday. People here litter and spit as they like. The traffic is horrible. Cows sit in the middle of the roads and one couldn’t walk without stepping on their poo.

 

 

 

 

Are those it? Or is it merely social stigma?

 

 

Me, I’m not saying I’m fine with those. Heck, I’m practically in tears whenever a beggar tugs on my clothes asking for money. But then, those are what make Bangalore, Bangalore. Get what I mean?

 

 

Personally, I like being here. I’ve wanted to go to India ever since I was in high school. My mum even laughed at me when I told her I wanted to visit India after SPM (seriously =_=). I didn’t know why. I just knew there were a lot of poor people in India and I wanted to see if I could pick a thing or two. It was never my intention to study here but by God’s will, that’s what happened. I probably missed out on factory outlets, boxing day and four seasons but what I get here is…well, incomparable.

 

 

India is without doubt, one of the backward countries. But heck, I’ve never seen people who are so determined in struggling to live. I’ve never seen anyone who’d do anything to earn a penny before.

 

Being here teaches me a lot on empathy and humanity. Surrounded constantly by poor people and seeing kids running on the pavement without even wearing slippers. Peeping into their houses and realising the toilet in Pratham is even bigger than their living rooms. Seeing them living in camps instead of proper houses. Those make me walk with my head down. They make me feel thankful of what I have, make me realised there’s a lot more to be done. They make me to want to help.

 

What I’ll be able to learn from them will not only shape me into a good doctor, but also as a person. The lessons are worth a lifetime.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In a way, I need them, not the other way around. Thus, I don’t feel I have the right to complain.

 

 

It annoys me to the max when someone said, “Eeh. Diorang ni busuk la.”

Hello, were you born as an Indian in India, you would probably bear the same scent. And you wouldn’t think you’re smelly either.

 

 

And to think people who said it were medical students. It’s like they’re saying they won’t ever ever ever work in rural areas or treat poor people! Are you gonna clamped your nose when dealing with your patients in the future? Not likely. We Malaysians do not have higher positions nor are these people lower than us.

 

 

I have yet to hear doctors who studied in Europe earned more in Malaysia than those who study in local universities. Nor did I hear anything about doctors from local unis being unemployed. Doctors are doctors. They’re all the same. I don’t mind getting a stamped certificate saying I graduated in Malaysia and not India. As long as I have the skills and as long as no patient of mine is going to say, “Bodoh ah doktor tu. Baik tak yah jadi doktor.”, I’m fine with it.

 

 

I’m just saying, if you’re given a lemon, make a lemonade out of it ^_^

188

188 codes for nisasabri. That’s my present serial number. One. Eight. Eight. A hundred and eighty eight. 188.

 

I am, of course once again, the last student in my batch. Now I have to wait for the first 187 numbers when attendance is taken. Which means I will be the last student leaving the lecture hall everyday.

 

Tu lah. Siapa suruh kena duduk for supplementary exam. Padan muka.

 

 

Ok la, it’s not like I’m not used to it. I was the last student in my first year. Now I have to bear it for another year and a half. But last year I got an odd number! This year is even! Do you know what that means? It means I’ll be an obvious target whenever the lecturers ask questions   Aish.

 

That leads to my resolution for Phase II ; I’m adamant not to sit for supplementary exam again!! That’s the only way I could shift my serial number upwards! Ahah. A fusion of a medical student with bimbo thoughts. So what. Good la right. That means I’m gonna work hard.

 

So. My classes officially start tomorrow *coughs coughs* Fine! They started today but how should I know? The management thought they could post the official results and timetable up yesterday afternoon without announcing anything and we would know by ourselves is it? And I did mean to go to class today. I overslept……and woke up at 11.30 am. Perghh. Overslept by 4 hours =_=

 

Darn la now have to go to class already (I could hear my mum saying my english sucks as I’m writing this). Baru plan nak gi Otti!

 

 

These books look so lovely that I’m afraid of opening and creasing them up. Right.

 

The end of my zaman jahilliah

When my housemates wanted to watch a Korean ghost movie beramai-ramai, I tiba-tiba rajin mengoffer diri to go to CS and buy junk food. I’m an awesome housemate, I know

 

I swore to myself I wouldn’t watch any ghost story ever again after I watched Gothika in form 3. Wtf I don’t believe in scaring myself. Tengok cerita hantu then takut nak stay up sorang-sorang at night. Cheh, what for.

 

So here I am alone in my room munching on chips and chocolates (which reminds me I haven’t snacked in a long time so no scolding ok Effa) while looking up on articles like “How To Jog” or “The right way of breathing“. What? Everyone is allow to change their minds. That everyone includes me you know. If I suddenly preferred to fill my free time with jogging, so I should. If I suddenly stopped stocking on Pepsi and started drinking mineral water yeah so what has it got to do with anyone.

 

Yes everyone. Dunia sudah mahu kiamat.

 

I’m seasonal. What I like this month, I might hate it to the same extent next month. Who I dislike this year, I still dislike next year though.

 

A-n-y-w-a-y, I am dead serious about jogging daily and increasing my intake of mineral water. I know I know. Who had thought the day would finally come right? All this while people around me kept saying stuff like,

 

“You know when you poured a bottle of Coke into the toilet bowl, it becomes all white and clean.”

“You know they did an experiment where they put a tooth inside a jar filled with Coke then a couple of days later yadayadayada.”

 

all in the hope I would stop treating Pepsi as my mineral water. Of course those didn’t work pooh. What do I care about toilet bowls and teeth. Then a couple of weeks ago, a friend told me a friend of hers who started drinking Pepsi/Coke daily in her teens was diagnosed with diabetes in her 20s.

 

I’m 20! I DON’T WANNA BE DIABETIC OK. Then I won’t be able to eat whatever I want. Then I’ll die =_=

 

Doesn’t mean I don’t drink Pepsi at all. I still do whenever I eat out. Which is everyday *coughs makan mcD tiap hari coughs*  Not my fault ok! It’s the nearest, the fastest, the cheapest and who doesn’t like fast food?

 

 

 

I used to buy Pepsi in small bottles to preserve the gas.

When A’in came to my house,

“Nisa, nak Pepsi.”

“Ambil la.”

Then she would shake the bottle, release the cap and free the gas.

=_=

You don’t want the gas, you drink mineral water la!

“A’in, a bottle of Pepsi without gas is like a lady without her virginity.”

Awesome kan my quote muahahahaha.

And that is how ladies and gentlemen, the terms “virgin drinks” and “raped drinks” in this house were born.

 

 

And I’ve really started jogging daily. It has now been almost 2 weeks already. I even splurged on a pair of jogging shoes,wrist bands and thick socks. Now I’m poor =_=”

It’s only an hour everyday. Bukannya mati pun. I don’t wanna be an old frail lady 40 years from now boohoo.

 

And yes, now I walk the 15 minutes walk to JP Park. I don’t use auto.

 

So that’s it people. The ending of my zaman jahilliah (tak nak belajar memasak tak kira) >_<

 

Oooohhh, Qish just told me the ghost movie had ended. Yay!

Bye bye biochem

For the past 3 weeks, I’ve been asking myself this question frequently enough it was more than sufficient to drive me mad.

 

Again. This time, what will it be?

 

I’ve gotten the answer.

 

Alhamdulillah, I passed   I PASSEDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD

 

I was so happy that I squealed inside the dean’s office. If it were my dad sitting across me, I would have hugged him. If I could bounce like a ball, I would already be dancing around. If I could express the happiness I felt at that moment, I would! The sky suddenly seemed brighter, the sun less glaring, the air fresher. Life had never been sweeter.

 

Undoubtedly, being threatened to repeat one whole year of only biochemistry scared me. I wouldn’t know how to face myself, wouldn’t know which direction my feet should take me. I would be at lost.

 

Having ample time in these past few weeks gave me a lot of chances to reflect on myself. When I studied for the supplementary exam, it made me realised that I deserved to fail during professional exam. Heck, there were so many things I never knew! It made me wonder exactly what have I learned in the past one year. Exactly what was I so busy doing that I never had the time to read those chapters. I fooled around too much. That, I couldn’t deny.

 

I realised, I wasn’t prepared to be a doctor. Never in my heart did I see myself as one 4 years from now. The idea was too much of a joke to be taken seriously. And that, I need to change. Period. I don’t want another month like this one. Mentally and emotionally anguishing. I don’t want to go through it again. I want to stop suffocating. It’s hell on earth.

 

Thanks for the support guys >_< and of course, my parents lah. Perghhh, tulis as if I’ve just won an award ke apa. HAHAHAHAHA.

Crazily lazy

Laying on bed. Staring into space. Thinking. Thinking. And thinking. But not touching biochem book.

 

Yup, having practical tomorrow. And probably viva if my name were to be mentioned after the practical session ended. The greatest part is, viva will be held right after that. Tadaaaaaaaaa. Some stupid policy about not wanting to interfere with our concentration towards practical.

 

=_= I still have to study for both practical and viva.

 

A part of me wants to be chosen for viva. At least I’ll know my result instead of having to wait for another weekend. But another part of me wants to bury biochem book in the backyard and let it rot there. Dah. Malas dah nak baca biochem. MALAS.

 

 

Again. This time, what will it be?

Raghuram’s rooftop

You know what? I’m scared of heights. I really really am. Which sucks because I don’t remember being so during National Service 2 years ago. When my friends decided to hang out on Raghuram’s rooftop (as opposed to Dwellington’s rooftop with the rest of our batch playing fireworks), I went along.

 

Then I found out it’s not Raghuram’s rooftop. It’s the water tank on Raghuram’s rooftop. Did I mention I was scared of heights????

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

But apparently, not as scared as Naned was. Hehehehe.

 

 

And of course, we dragged Budak Kecik Gemok along.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Then Pija and Aida went down to City Supermarket (yang lain semua tak berani nak turun) and bought junk food.

 

 

And Pija fetched her emergency light. And Pija played songs out loud from her handphone. Haha semua Pija buat.

 

 

 

 

Were hoping to catch some fireworks since it’s Deepavali the next day buttttttt there weren’t that many.

I think Malaysian students played the most fireworks on top of Dwellington’s rooftop (albeit the fact that Deeba, the sole Indian among us went back to Malaysia last Monday.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Was there from 8-ish to 11.30 pm I think, We gossiped. We ate. We sang on top of our lungs. While freezing our butts. Couldn’t say it wasn’t fun. Until it was time to go down those stairs.

 

Tiba-tiba it was so cold my teeth were chattering.

Diamonds are a girl’s bestfriend

 

 

 

Upon going out with my friends yesterday, it got me thinking. This good friend of mine, dragged me into a diamond store.  Yes, a diamond store. Ah, it’s true isn’t it? Diamonds are a girl’s bestfriend.

 

As my friend looked upon trays and trays of diamond rings and diamond bracelets and diamond earrings, I sat there feeling awkward. This was another world. A world of bunga tanjung and bunga belah pinang. A world of the e and f gradings and solitaire cuts. A world I’d never discovered before which, to be frank, bored me.

 

Well, my friend was oohing and aahing and squealing at the perfect way the angles of the cut stone caught the light as I tried my best to be interested. It wasn’t until she said, “Look at this ring. The diamond’s huge. When will any guy give me one?”

 

Now that, caught my attention. And then suddenly, I found myself wondering;

 

Do girls like diamonds because of what they are (pretty, worth a bomb) or do they like diamonds because of what they represent?

 

Me, I’m not a huge fan of diamonds. But I won’t say no if anyone gave me any. Instead of flaunting them off around my wrists and on my fingers, the probability of me selling them off and buying myself a few gadgets is close to 99%. The 1% is spared in case they are presents from my parents.

 

 

 

 

I think it’s cooler to own a PSP than having a diamond ring on my finger.

 

What. I’m being practical. Can you play games with a diamond ring? Nope, don’t think so. And why would any girl wait for guys to present them with diamonds? What’s wrong with buying a diamond ring themselves if they could afford it? That way, it’s truly theirs. In cut throat situation, one can sell it without feeling guilty.

 

And in case of bad memories, they don’t have to chuck it into the ocean (watched Titanic anyone? Now that was one hell of a necklace). So there.