Nama Baru

Dahulu kala, sewaktu pertama kali bertemu dengan cikgu Bahasa Melayu baru, kami diarahkan berdiri kemudian menyatakan nama kami beserta dengan nama panggilan. Katanya, orang melayu ni ada yang nama Khalid tapi panggil Atan, ada nama Khadijah panggil Siti dan macam-macam lagi la. Atok aku sendiri pun bernama Shamsuddin tapi dipanggil Khalid.

Apabila tiba giliran, aku pun berdiri dan menyatakan nama dan nama panggilan aku,
"Syarah panggil Syarah".
Memang sangat bosan, tidak kreatif langsung, tona bercakap juga sangat mendatar, tidak seperti, "Shasha Syarah panggil Shasha Syarah je."

Tetapi kini, kalau ditanya semula mungkin lebih seronok didengar,
"Syarah panggil Orang-Tak-Lulus-Driving-Test".
Mengikut panggilan ayah aku terhadap aku.

Seperti atok aku yang bernama Shamsuddin, dia dipanggil Khalid atas sebab jikalau dia dipanggil Shamsuddin dia jadi demam. Mengikut penjelasan ayah aku. Wallahua'alam.

Disebalik nama aku pula, terdapat beberapa sebab mengapa aku di panggil Orang-Tak-Lulus-Driving-Test.

1. Aku terlalu lemah untuk tarik hand-break yang busuk menjadikan kereta terundur ke belakang walaupun tayar dan cantik masuk line kuning.

2. Kereta itu bunyi kuat aku tak selesa.

3. Pak cik JPJ punya muka menakutkan.

4. Orang sebelum aku pun gagal bukit.

5. Gear tu lain daripada yang selalu pakai.

6. Dah agak dah akan terkebelakang.

Dan alasan yang paling best yang dicampak kepada parents aku,

7. Mak cik selalu cakap,
"Kalau bawa kereta macam ni nanti fail la"
dan
"Awak ni start-start je saya dan bagi on the road tapi tak pandai-pandai juga. Parking bukit semua pula yang OK."
Ha, sekarang amek-amek dah pass jalan raya puas hati?

Di dalam bahasa lain,
"Mak cik tu asyik suruh practice jalan je, sibuk sangat pasal jalan sampai aa dah lupa pasal parking bukit semua. Salah mak cik tu la. Kereta tu pun macam taik, hantar pegi besi buruk lagi bagus."

Ayah: Ye lah, Orang-Tak-Lulus-Driving-Test.
-__-"

Picasso

Since today suppose to be my last day at school working, I've vowed not to use the internet but instead spending some quality time with my work place, the school or specifically the library and the book shop.

I have to say, despite the countless number of jobs I've done, working at school with the kids is probably the best job I've done yet. Tops from penganggur to bibik mak to tukang-jaga-library to Auntie Ina's assistant to tukang-jaga-kedai-buku (or as Fifi call it, shop assistant or better yet, stalker), eventhough all these jobs offer minimal hours and effort with a reasonable wage. On the other hand, me being a substitute teacher was more like a dirty work I have to do on behalf of the sleazy teachers.

I wasn't a big fan of kids, I used to think that they're all annoying (with an exception to my brother). Teaching was a field I've never intended to explore and did my best to stay away from it. In fact, I despise the idea so much, everyday my mum practically have to drag my ass to school and usually gave me the ultimatum of either the food-supplied-school or the food-less home with a list of chores.

But then even when I do pick the second option, she's giving me the face and continue persuading until I changed my mind. Although I actually find school a pretty good deal, it's the waking up early part that's really turning me off.

Besides the cute-but-annoying kids I have to deal with daily, it also burn my ears to hear them calling me 'Kakak'. As I always said, even my baby brother don't call me kakak, why in any world do you deserve to call me that? I know this sound petty and ultra snobbish but perhaps the fact that I'm so used to not call anyone kakak and vice-versa at the UK, it carries on until I went back here. Plus that my family never really emphasise on the use of the word 'kakak'. I can't see how calling anyone kakak shows respect, far as I concern we respect people by the way we are treating them not just by calling them kakak but still don't treat them like one.

Anyhow, I got over that matter and I get myself used to it. As for the kids, despite the fact that they are the most annoyingly annoying (wtf?) creature on earth, I'm starting to get addicted to them. They did the most spontaneous thing, although that alone is even more annoying it usually stream towards a cute-like annoying. Sooner than I know, I'm starting to adore them, I even feel like making a high-pitched-irritating-excited scream everytime I see them. To mingle with the cute kids and tease the cheeky ones and asking silly questions to the smarter ones would just flip my gloomy-oh-so-boring-and-sleepy day 360 degrees around.

Better yet, they appreciate me (and show it) in the smallest way. They make me in touch with my emotional side. The roses, the candies and the drawing really does touched my heart. It even turn out to be cute when they constantly correct the teachers when they refer me as 'Kakak Sara' rather than 'Kakak Syarah' by saying,

"Bukan Kakak Sara, Kakak Syarah laah."
Damn, that statement is so mahal you know. Haha. Even I tried not to bother correcting people who got my name wrongly although I am irritated by it.

I'll miss this one day. Until then, I'll be occupied with uni and studies (hopefully) and live a long way since my working days though I'm not sure if any of my productive jobs could actually be list down on my six-years-soon-to-come-resume. Hee.

And oh, this drawing is no Picasso but it literally made me smile after the 40-minute session in hell teaching catering the kids.


What is this but the cutest thing?
Oh wow I look so cute, its either that I'm drawing-genic or he seriously need a glasses.

Butterflies

Pertama kali aku dengar quote itu ialah sewaktu aku berborak dengan frenemy aku di MSN messenger.

Lebih kurang begini;

Syarah: y do u like edie so much?
Sana: u kno, just when i c him i got butterflies.
Syarah: huh?
Sana: u kno wen u c sumone, butterflies in ur tummy, ur palm sweat, ur heart beat faster. u neva get tht?
Syarah: no

Selama lebih kurang 3 tahun daripada detik itu, aku tak pernah faham maksudnya sehingga kini.

Kini apabila aku sudah mula perasan benda kecil-kecil yang aku alami sewaktu aku bersama dengan si dia, aku sudah memahami perasaan kawan aku itu.

Setiap kali, aku duduk disebelahnya aku rasa macam ada rama-rama dalam perut. Kadang-kadang sampai aku boleh dengar perut aku bunyi-bunyi. Tangan aku berpeluh bukan sikit-sikit, sampai aku pulang ke rumah pun masih merah-merah lagi kedua telapak tangan aku. Bukan setakat tangan sahaja, seluruh badan aku akan berpeluh setiap kali bersamanya. Jantung aku berdegup tak payah cakap la, banyak kali sangat, tak sempat nak kira.

Setiap kali aku bersamanya, aku berasa sangat gemuruh sehingga aku terlupa segala-galanya. Hinggakan aku rasa dunia ini aku yang punya, orang di kanan kiri tidak aku endahkan.

Mengikut kriteria yang ditetapkan oleh kawan aku tersebut, pastilah dia 'sumone' itu.

Walaubagaimanapun, tidak seperti kawan aku tersebut, aku tidak pun menyukainya. Kadang-kadang aku cuba, tapi bila dia mula sahaja jerit "tak nampak ke kereta tu?", terus terpadam perasaan tersebut.

Dan apabila sering sahaja dimarahi begitu, mula lah hati aku terkumat-kamit geram akan mak cik, makanya aku sering tak perasan kereta kiri kanan. Mak cik pula suka torture aku dengan tidak membuka air cond dan membuatkan aku berpeluh-peluh macam kambing.

Ternyata, teori kawan aku mengenai petanda mengecam 'sumone' amatlah salah.

Tiada Lagi Simpati

Pada mulanya, aku berasa sangat sedih bagi pihak bibik baru. Sudah la jauh dari kampung halaman, terpaksa pula hidup dengan seangkatan keluarga psycho yang tidak faham apa yang dicakapkan mahupun memahami apa yang dia cakapkan.

Dengan kesulitan kecil itu juga lah, nenek aku mula bising komplen macam-macam tentang bibik tersebut. Aku yang sangat mudah bersimpati pun tersimpati terhadap bibik tersebut.

Aku faham perasaan bibik, kerana hari-hari pun aku mengalami kesulitan yang lebih kurang macam itu. Hari hari aku terpaksa berhadapan dengan atok aku yang susah untuk aku faham apa yang dicakapkan dan nenek aku yang selalu tak faham apa yang aku cakapkan.

Namun begitu, situasi bibik berganda-ganda lah lebih teruk, aku sangka. Hinggakan apabila umi aku bertanya khabar bibik tersebut, dengan nada yang penuh kesedihan aku pun memberitahu bahawa hari-hari aku terpaksa dengar nenek aku komplen macam-macam tentangnya walaupun hakikatnya bibik tersebut rajin lagi baik.

Sebagai umi yang prihatin (dan ternampak peluang untuk menyambar bibik nenek aku), umi aku pun bertanyakan kepada pak cik aku menerusi the translator a.k.a bibik pak cik aku. Yang mengejutkan, menurutnya bibik nenek aku memberikan positive feedback dan memuji muja best kerja dekat situ.

Dengan segala sangsi, aku pun bertanya kepada umi aku sebab musabab terjadinya perkara tersebut. Dan baru juga lah aku teringat bahawasanya bibik tersebut tidak pernah memahami sepatah haram apa yang nenek aku bebelkan terhadapnya hari-hari.

Dan memandangkan Hakim juga sering panggil dia tolol sambil senyum, kemungkinan besar dia menyangka dirinya dipuji. Kini aku tidak simpati lagi terhadap bibik, malahan berharap agar aku boleh mengalami situasi tersebut sepertinya.

Jikalau bahlul bermaksud penuh dalam bahasa arab. Maka mungkin juga, tolol bermaksud lawa dalam bahasa kemboja.

Anugerah Terlampau Popular

*sorry Dena, baru perasan. thx btw. hee.

Instructions:

So here what you're going to do ;

1. Put this award in your awesome blog.
2. Award this badge to 10 bloggers whom you think are friendly & Inspirational.
3. Let them know about this.

Jawapan standard orang takde kawan;

1. Aku tak kenal siapa siapa lagi yang lebih friendly dan inspirational dari diri sendiri.
2. Aku sangat popular tak boleh nak letak 10 orang je.
3. Siapa siapa yang terbaca entri ini.

Terbisu

Biasanya hari hari aku akan bangun pagi tengahari dan memulakan hariku dengan perbalahan bersama warga di rumah atas sebab musabab ketidak jelasan komunikasi.

Bagaimana aku akan tidak memahami apa yang atok aku cakap apabila dia tidak memakai giginya. Lalu perkara yang sepatutnya mengambil 2 minit untuk di beritahu memakan masa 5 minit. Contohnya,

Atok: Syarah, cepat siap. Bawa kereta pergi Kg. Delek
Syarah: Ha?
Atok: Cepat siap. Bawa kereta pergi Kg. Delek
Syarah: Ha?
Atok: Bawak kereta pergi Kg. Delek
Syarah: Amende? Tak dengar la.

Dan berlarutan selama beberapa minit yang tidak munasabah.

Kemudian aku pusing sebelah, terlihat nenek aku. Belum habis penat atas sebab musabab menjalani perbualan dengan atok aku, aku terpaksa pula menjalani seksaan berbual dengan nenek aku. Seperti biasa perbualan itu akan berbunyi seperti sebegini,

Syarah: Mak, bagikan teh.
Mak: Nak nasik?
Syarah: -__-"

Aku rasa mak tak pernah dengar apa yang aku cakapkan, dia pakai hantam assume apa yang dia rasa aku nak cakap. Ini memang betul-betul ketidak dengaran bukannya ketidak jelasan kedengaran kerana biasanya apa yang aku cakap dengan apa yang mak dengar sangat lah jauh berbeza.

Apabila sahaja aku terasa bagaikan situasi komunikasi kami tidak boleh lagi menjadi bertambah teruk, ternyata aku salah.

Kini, bila aku pusing lagi sebelah. Aku akan cakap,

Syarah: Bibik, dah makan?
Bibik: :)

Syarah membuat bahasa isyarat.
Bibik membuat bahasa isyarat.
Wallahua'alam apa yang bibik faham dan apa yang aku faham.

Atas sebab musabab bibik baharu baru diterbangkan dari Kemboja, sepatah haram pun masih dia tidak memahami apa yang aku cakap.

Akhirnya, kami sekeluarga pun terpaksa menggunakan bahsa isyarat untuk berkomunikasi dengan bibik tersebut.

Dengan bahasa isyarat sekalipun, bibik tersebut masih tidak jelas dengan apa yang cuba kami perkatakan. Walaupun begitu, ianya sedikit sebanyak membantu juga. Mungkin kami juga boleh mempraktikkan menggunakan bahsa isyarat untuk berkomunikasi sesama sendiri.

Kini aku hidup serumah dengan yang tidak-faham-apa-dicakapkan, yang tidak-dengar-apa-dicakapkan dan yang tidak-faham-apa-yang-didengar-dan-dicakapkan.

Seronok betul.

Desperation

Despite some written statement proving that I am qualified to be a stylist, I've never quite understand the purpose of that job. I mean, is it for real? You're paying someone to tell you what to wear daily? Despite the fact that I do somewhat judge people based on their appearance but by any mean, that doesn't give you a green light to appear as something you're not.

I would have to say I'm in the same page as Mrs. Becks in this matter. Regardless of that statement I've just made. I could still find some way around the corner to see this in a different light. I.e. when you're completely disconnected from the fashion world and have no other alternative but to hire a stylist, I would consider it a-ok.

An example of such situation would be the current situation of myself. As for approximately 6 weeks I was (and still am) completely disconnected to my second home. How I've missed the cool air I would breathe every time I step onto the fashion heaven browsing my eyes through the most extravagant clothes and gliding my hands against all the cottons shipped all the way from India. In desperation like this, by just stepping into a Zara store would be enough to satisfy my thirst for fashion.

Just so that I wouldn't be sue by the fashion police, I would kill to hire Rahcel Zoe. So that she'd remind me not to buy a late season heart shaped cross body but instead wait for the upcoming quilted chain handle heart shaped cross body which is also the it bag of the season.

Or not to buy a 3-way convertible Tommy Hilfiger tote when the upcoming 2-way convertible Tommy Hilfiger tote is twice as gorgeous and is on the shoulders of LC and Nicole Richie. To make things worse, just when I am given the green light to visit my long lost home, the green notes are fading away. If any, all that I could see is the mirage of those notes.

To bought everything you thought is it this season and to only see the new and improved version of the exact same bag (as if it is not heart throbbing already) on the rack by tomorrow would probably make the best tear jerking tale in the history of fashion sob story.

On the bright side, at least my eyes would have fulfill its satisfaction. While my heart is ripping and my body screaming to rock that whatever outfit I would think is cute but most probably be late season.

I probably suffer all this fashion retardation because I haven't got the chance to go shopping with my girlfriends. The circle which also influence my fashion sense next in line to the media. My closest, constant, instant fashion fix it reference.

Maybe its that I've drifted away from my family, I've forgotten how much they used to influence me. Before my social circle was my personal fashion police, there was my family. Now only have I realised how I've neglected their opinions.

So maybe we don't share the same ref but at least we're in the same genre. Most of all, I've inherited it from them. Though I'm actually not sure whether fashion obsession is linked by genetic trait but when your grandmother owns a classic everlasting oblong nude quilted Chanel bag, there's no doubt fashion is running through my blood.