A recipe book from the past

40-year old recipe book

I was at my sister-in-law's place earlier today and came across an old recipe book which she bought in the early 70's. The book is titled `Medan Selera' and was written by the late Haji Ahmad Bin Yaakub.

When I say `old', I mean real old... the text is in `ejaan lama'. For those of you young readers out there, if you don't understand what is meant by ejaan lama, go ask your mother. Even the measurements for the ingredients uses terms that are no longer in use. Try going to the market and ask to buy a kati of fish... and you'll probably get a laugh from the fishmonger.

Medan Selera was one of the very early compilation of recipes in book form. Haji Ahmad originally wrote his compilation in Jawi script in 1958. This romanised edition was first published in 1971, after the author's demise. It became a popular reference book amongst the ladies at that time. It contains recipes for most of the traditional dishes that Johor is famous for... nasi beriani (spelt as buryani in the book), laksa Johor and botok-botok. Surprisingly, the author had also included recipes for some western and Japanese dishes too. There is actually a recipe for mutton chops... which just goes to show that our tastebuds were already quite varied back then. It is also claimed that Haji Ahmad was the one who first used the Italian spaghetti in laksa Johor.

So how heavy is a kati in today's terms?

I only had a short time to browse through the book. No way my sis-in-law is letting me go home with her precious possession. I had an amusing time reading some of the archaic terms, measurements and ingredients. A tablespoon was known as chamcha besar. The smallest unit of weight was the tahil. Rice was measured in chupak. Then there is this ingredient in laksa Johor called sajira... I've never heard of it. My sis-in-law says it is a kind of spice.

Tembosa, a.k.a epok-epok

I did manage to find printed evidence about an issue that was recently discussed by some old school friends. The Malay kuih that the rest of Malaysia calls as karipap, is known as tembosa to us Johoreans. The filling for tembosa is the 156th recipe in the book.

A teacher from my old school who is a descendant of Haji Ahmad Bin Yaakub, is presently making efforts to re-publish this book in modern form. I look forward to owning a copy when it comes out in print. Then maybe I can try cook the original version of the famous Beriani Gam.

Is it bad to wish something bad on someone?

Well... readers need not answer this question. Of course it is bad.... but sometimes you cross paths with some senseless jerks who really test your patience.

Two days back, I was on my way to work. I stopped at a four-way traffic junction. Another car was in front of me. When the lights turned green, the car in front moved off and I started to follow. Suddenly, a motorcycle from the road on my right darted between the two cars, barely squeezing past. I had to brake hard to avoid smashing into the bike. What the eff!!!

On impulse, I stepped on my accelerator and chased the bike. A few hundred metres down the road, I caught up and pulled to his side. I wind down the car window and shouted some choice words to the motorcyclist.... I didn't care if he could hear me or not. The biker, a young man in his early 20's, just displayed a nonchalant face with a couldn't-care-less attitude. That was when the nasty thought of wishing ill on him crossed my mind.

I have lost count how many times I see irresponsible motorcyclists cut across road junctions when the light on their side is red. You don't have to take my word for it. Just stand next to any busy junction in Kuala Lumpur for 5 minutes and you'll know what I mean. Being small and nippy doesn't give motorcyclists any right to jump the lights. Why can't they have the patience to wait for the green signal, just like the rest of us?

Ok then... end of post. Just to let off some steam..

Zul and Nurul's Special Day

My brother-in-law, Zulkipli Mohd Amin tied the knot with a young lady from Hutan Melintang in Perak, last month. As usual, I took a lot of photos of the event, both at the bride's and the groom's side. I was too busy with work and other stuff to compile them properly... until the enforced time-off this weekend (see previous post) enabled me to create a simple video of the still pics.

I welcome Nurul-huda Ismail into this large family of ours... may your marriage be blessed and showered with happiness always, insyaAllah.

The related story of the engagement ceremony last year was posted here -> A new addition to the family.

Piroxicam and diclofenac

Another obvious sign of ageing is when the medicines your doctor prescribes you increase in variety. Previously you may just be familiar with paracetamol, ponstan and maybe one or two cough syrups. You wouldn't bother with the names of antibiotics because there are just too many of them. More often than not, you never finish the full antibiotic course as what was prescribed because you have this attitude of : Alaa... dah baik dah. Takyah nak makan ubat tu lagi...

Well... time is catching up on you, my friend. If you don't take care of your health, then be prepared to familiarise yourself with a host of new medications whose names would put you in a tongue-twisting exercise. There are hundreds of thousands of drugs and medicines out there. More are being discovered everyday. Pharmaceuticals is a very huge business.

So why am I talking about drugs today?

I had a severe attack of gout last night. The initial build-up to the pain around my left ankle was felt at about noon time yesterday. I chose to tough it out because there were outstanding items at the work site to attend to and that I would be driving back to Johor Bahru later that night. The plan was for me to see my regular doctor in JB the next day (today).

By the time I left Kuala Lumpur at around 9pm, the pain started to feel worse. Good thing it is the left leg... if it had been the right, then driving would've been impossible. I tried to make it a non-stop trip so as to reach home as fast as possible but my bladder wasn’t co-operating. I chose to make a pit stop at the small Yong Peng rest area where the toilets are not far from where we can park our car. It was a struggle to get out of my car to walk the 10 metres or so to reach the toilet. I couldn’t put any weight on my left leg and had to hobble the distance mostly on one leg. Quite embarrassing, really… Good thing the only other people watching this comical scene were the toilet cleaners.

I reached home in JB at around 1 am. My son acted as a crutch to help me from the car into the house. I downed two tablets of paracetamol, hoping to relieve some pain to last through the night.

No effect. The pain became unbearable and I couldn’t sleep. It was 3 am when I asked my better half to take me to see a doctor. Luckily there is a 24-hour clinic not too far away from where we stay. The last time I went to a clinic outside normal hours was ages ago.

The doctor took one look at my swollen ankle and immediately asked if I wanted a pain-killing jab. Yes, yes… please! She prescribed two medicines for me and her parting advice were two simple words : Jaga makan…

Yeah, doc… I hear you. But stubborn old me always give in to temptations when it comes to food.

Pic borrowed from -> Drug3K.com

Feldene (piroxicam) and Voren 50 (diclofenac sodium) are two medications used to relieve pain, tenderness, swelling and stiffness caused by osteoarthritis and rheumatoid arthritis. They are also sometimes used to treat gouty arthritis (attacks of severe joint pain and swelling caused by a build-up of certain substances in the joints). They both fall under a class of medicines known as non-steroidal anti-inflammatory medications (NSAIDs)… see, I told you they are going to be a mouthful.

So today shall be a total rest-at-home day with limited mobility. Time to catch up on blogging and blog-hopping. And also to reflect on the problem of how to control my makan…

Something lives in this tree

Around two weeks ago, I accompanied my brother-in-law for his bernikah ceremony at the bride's home in Hutan Melintang, Perak. From Kuala Lumpur, we took the coastal road by way of Kuala Selangor and Sabak Bernam north towards Teluk Intan. The small town of Hutan Melintang is situated in the district of Bagan Datoh, just across the Selangor/Perak border demarcated by Sungai Bernam.

I have travelled this road a few times before and have always been fascinated by the lovely kampung landscape that included paddy fields in the areas of Tanjung Karang and Sekinchan. As we neared Sabak Bernam, we can see many roadside stalls selling mentarang, a type of shellfish that lives in the muddy tidal flats along this particular stretch of coastline. I have not seen this type of shellfish anywhere else in Malaysia.

Also along this road I spotted a number of stalls selling `kekabu'-filled pillows and mattresses. Kekabu is a type of fluffy cotton-like fibre used as the pillow filling. Before the advent of foam or artificial fibres, kekabu was the main material found in pillows and mattresses. The fibre comes from the seed pods of the kekabu tree whose English name is kapok (ceiba pentandra). It is also known as the Java cotton tree. Kapok trees are quite huge... they can grow in excess of 30m height.

I remember as a small boy, there was a big kekabu tree at the back of my grandfather's house. When the family gathered there for hari raya, the older cousins like to frighten us younger ones by telling that a certain pontianak lives on this tree and would come down to suck our blood if we persist in playing outside past maghrib (sunset) time. It was a very good scare tactic... but it also created a problem. Kampung houses those days do not have flush toilets. Latrines were all located outside. You drop your poop through a hole in the outhouse floor into a bucket. A very hardworking gentleman would then come every few days to manually collect your deposits and clean the bucket.

The latrine at my grandfather's house was located next to the kekabu tree... and if there is a need for any of the young ones to do business at night, we dare not do it alone. Therefore one or two of the other cousins are forced to accompany the person doing the business. And because we were chicken-hearted, the business is done with the latrine door full open. If you are the one doing the business, then you'll have to live with the embarassment of having other people watching you crapping your stuff. On the other hand, if you are the one doing guard duty, you have to bear with the aroma from the outhouse while at the same time stealing glances at the imposing kekabu tree for anything that may swoop down from it and grab you by the neck. A classic lose-lose situation...

For the wedding at Perak the other day, we put up at a homestay not far from the bride's house. Next to this homestay is an old abandoned kampung house. In front of this abandoned house is a kekabu tree... and this was what reminded me of today's story.

An abandoned house with a big kekabu tree... brings back scary memories from the past.

Don't want to be around this place after dark...

In a sulking mood...

No, not me... but a young lady tengah merajuk after not getting to do what she wants.

It has been a really busy month. Have been catching up with already delayed work at site with a number of public holidays in between... now that's when you wish there weren't any public holidays. Then there was the wedding of my brother-in-law. First was the nikah ceremony last week at the bride's home in Perak and last night was the reception at the groom's house in Shah Alam. And then I have to think of moving house by the end of the month. Gosh, I'm beat... but overall, better being busy than having nothing to do at all.

So today's post is just simple pic I caught of my grandniece Nurul Aqilah in a moody pose at last night's reception. Maybe I'll write about the wedding event a bit later.

Now why can't they let me do what I want....

Ops pyramid

The first flight to bring back our students studying in Egypt, arrived at KLIA yesterday and was received by the Prime Minister, no less. There are still many more of our students housed temporarily at the transit point of Jeddah in Saudi Arabia, not to mention those who are still trapped in Cairo.

Even since the start of the public demonstrations in Cairo more than a week ago, the government has made a commendable effort in trying to ensure the safety of our students over there and putting up an evacuation mission. The sheer number of our student population in Egypt made the operations a tough one indeed. Without doubt, it needed careful planning and coordination. Despite the effort, there have been many voices of discontent, especially in the earlier part of the crisis, when many people said that our government was slow to react. Even sadder is the claim that there are parties politicising the issue... either claiming credit for the success of the evacuation or complaining of the inefficiency of the whole operations. I have nothing but the feeling of despise for such people who cannot see through their shallow self-interests. I do not have any children or relatives studying in Egypt and so cannot claim to feel the same level of anxiety as many of my friends who do. But I do believe we have responsible leaders in our country who will definitely do their best when the lives of Malaysian citizens are at stake.

The situation in Cairo has somewhat stabilised and this has prompted some students to decline the offer to be flown home, especially those final year students about to take their exams this month. Yesterday's status update from my former teacher presently in Cairo, mentions that many shops are open again and peace is slowly returning to the city. I hope and pray that the Egyptian people find a peaceful solution to their problems and no more lives are lost. It would be very sad to see their country go into further turmoil because generally Egyptians are very nice people.

I have been to Egypt twice before but those were business trips. There wasn't much chance to do the touristy things like visit the pyramids or browse the museums... but my host over there did treat me to a wonderful dinner aboard a restaurant-boat that floats on the Nile. My Egyptian host is a very gracious and friendly man. He made my stay very comfortable and his hospitality was genuine. I would feel hard-pressed to extend him the same level of kindness should he be able to visit Kuala Lumpur... but of course I'll try my best. He sends me text greetings every year during Eid. When the demonstrations in Cairo reached its peak a few days ago, I sent him a text message enquiring about his situation but to date have yet to receive a reply.

To my good friend from Al-Masr, Mr Mohamed Diab... I hope you and your family are safe and coping well through these hard times. May Allah swt shower you with protection.

Happy Lunar New Year

It is time the tiger says farewell and hands over the reign to the rabbit. As a guy born in the year of the tiger, the previous lunar new year was a mixed one for me. On the workfront, it didn't turn out as I expected but the brief hiatus from work commitments allowed me the time to re-connect with some old friends and share some happiness.

The rabbit brings to mind the image of prolific reproductivity.... but don't get any ideas, of course the missus and I are well past that stage. Perhaps the aspiration we can wish for is for the abundance in health, wealth and good fortune for the coming year. And I relay that wish to all my Chinese friends and readers.... Gong Xi Fa Cai...

The price of getting hitched

I attended two weddings and one engagement ceremony this month. The weddings are those of my former co-workers while the engagement is that of my niece that I have posted about previously. All these events were held at different parts of the country (Temerloh, Tangkak and Melaka) and it was interesting to observe the different ways people celebrate such occassions.

Wedding and engagement ceremonies in the big cities such as KL and JB can be elaborate affairs. The scale of such events depend entirely on what the families can afford. But nowadays, I note that the average asking price of the `wang hantaran' the prospective groom has to fork out is around RM10k, and even that I am told, is towards the bottom end of the range. It is not too surprising to hear asking price of RM15,000.

During my day in the late '80s, five-figure wang hantaran are the realm of the rich and famous only.

I have three sons. I wonder how much the rate would be when their time comes to get hitched...

01.01.11 (Temerloh) : Bride Zalina Mohamed getting the final touch-up

30.01.11(Melaka) : Groom Norfaizal Khafid (ex-colleague) and bride Norahayu, at the bride's house.

A different taste of KFC (kampung fried chicken)

On Thursday, The Star Online carried a news item about a blogger and Google being sued by the owner of a fish head curry restaurant in Kota Kinabalu. Apparently the blogger had written a negative review of the restaurant in May of last year and this supposedly caused a drop in the restaurant's business.

Although the suit has just been filed, does it mean that bloggers cannot do anymore food reviews, or at least the negative ones? I have read the blog posting in question and except for a demeaning phrase, I consider the rest of it as the blogger's personal opinion of the food that he had tasted. If the restaurant's business can significantly suffer because of that one review, then whoever wrote that piece must've been one influential blogger indeed! Instead of trying to improve the taste of his dishes, the restaurant owner has decided to sue the blogger... and amazingly dragging Google into the process at the same time. Let's pause for a moment and consider the reverse scenario. If the blogger had written a ravingly positive review and this helped improve the restaurant's income, would the owner pay the blogger some form of reward?

Lest I get sued next, I am not naming the restaurant or the blogger, or linking the post that caused the restaurant owner to be upset.... read the Star article and google the names for yourself. I note that a few other blogs have also picked up on the story.

I have written a few restaurant and food reviews myself... and why not? Food is my second most favourite subject. Will I be discouraged to write anymore reviews because of this incident? I don't think so... in fact, I am writing one right now...

Ever since being transferred to Kuala Lumpur early last year, I have heard a few friends mention of a certain makan place in Cheras that serves tasty ayam kampung goreng. The proper translation for this is actually `fried kampung chicken' but saying it as `kampung fried chicken' gives it a twist in comparison to the other more famous fried chicken variety. The operative word here is `kampung', which is the adjective describing the chicken. Translating it to `village chicken' somehow does not sound quite right. The closest equivalent in English that I can offer is probably `free-range chicken'. This is the variety of poultry reared in open farms as opposed to the broiler chickens bred in closed pens strictly for their meat where their lifespan is a mere 42 days (or thereabouts) from hatching to slaughter.

Restoran A. Hassan is located next to the KL velodrome in Cheras. Their signature dish is ayam kampung goreng. Yesterday, with the help of a colleague, I visited the place for the first time. It was packed with the lunchtime office crowd but there were tables available because the restaurant has additional eating areas on the upper floors. That fact alone tells us how popular the place is. If fried chicken is not your fancy, not to worry.... there are plenty of other dishes to choose from. Prices are reasonable and parking surprisingly is very convenient. Made me wonder why I had not discovered this place much earlier.

So the next time I am in Cheras during lunchtime... you know where you can find me. That concludes my first food review for the year.

Sorry for just including the pic of the building. Pic of the actual ayam kampung dish is too blurry...

The first engagement of the year

Ever since I got hold of a DSLR camera about a year ago, I became the unofficial photographer at most of our family functions and events... namely weddings and engagements. I cannot claim to match the pros because my arsenal of lenses and photo gadgets is still very basic. But the joy I derive from taking pictures becomes meaningful because after loading them online, the pics can be viewed by other relatives who could not make it to the event.

Yesterday was the first engagement ceremony for 2011. Our niece, Siti Nurul Solihin bt. Zaid, is now promised to be married to a handsome young chap from Besut, Terengganu. The ceremony was held at my brother-in-law's house in Tangkak, Johor.

Congratulations to the family of Zaid Md Amin and Noraini Ali Afendi on the prospect of welcoming a new member into the family. God willing, I will join the trip to Terengganu next year.

The future groom is Muslim bin Mausin

Sweet... but brutal too!

Used the old road on the way back to catch this view of Gunung Ledang

Badique in memory...

On this date last year, I posted a story about 2 birthdays... the second of which was the birthday of my friend, Bahruzzaman Abdul Kadir, or better known to us as Badique.

Badique and I studied together for our A-levels at the UK, first at Centre for Business Studies in London and later at Aston College in Wrexham, North Wales. He later continued to do his degree in Mechanical Engineering at Birmingham while I went to Sheffield. I met him once in the early years of our working career back in Malaysia after which we lost touch for a long time, only to be re-connected in December of 2009 by way of Facebook. I visited my friend at his house in Shah Alam on 19.01.10, the eve of his 48th birthday.

If Badique were alive today, he would be 49-years-old. Alas, he died of cancer in April last year. I can't help but shed a tear as I type this...

Rest patiently my brother... we will be there to join you soon. May Allah swt place you among the soliheen..

Badique is third from the left with yours truly on the far right, Wrexham 1980

Interlude

There was a news report in yesterday's The Star Online about DPM Muhyiddin planning to discuss with US Secretary of State Hillary Clinton about reviving the US Peace Corps programme to get American volunteer teachers to teach our students the English language. It makes me wonder if the quality of the teachers we have now are not up to par for us to resort to outside help. If really such help is needed, then I would think it would be better for the Americans to teach our local English language teachers, rather than directly teaching the students. I am sure the local teaching profession has some views on this.

In the 1970's, there was a group of American Peace Corps volunteers who helped teach the students at MRSM Kuantan. They taught us Maths and the Science subjects... but not English. The English language was taught entirely by local teachers, and such good English teachers they were. I love and respect all my English teachers then... and I do trust the present-day ones have the same capability and skills as those who helped me those years ago.

On that note, here's the first interlude for 2011 :

A Malaysian girl whose command of English is not too good, accidentally bumped into a Matsalleh tourist.

`I am sorry,' the girl said.

`I am sorry too,' responded the tourist.

The girl was puzzled and replied, `I am sorry three...'

The Matsalleh was even more confused. `What are you sorry for?'

Girl desperately offered, `I am sorry..... five?'

The previous year in pictures

I have been going through my collection of photos taken last year (2010) and had a tough time deciding to pick one pic for each month. My personal preference has always been landscape photography but I've decided to include some pics taken during weddings and engagements. I attended quite a few of such events last year.

But the event that really makes me spoilt for choice is Floria `10 in Putrajaya. I took hundreds of shots of flowers and gardens on that day but I finally decided the photo of the yellow bee is the best of the lot.

p/s : click on the photos if you wish to view a larger image... but I guess you guys know this already...

January

Title : Sunset at Tanjung Langsat Port
Location : Tanjung Langsat, Johor
Date : 11.01.10

February

Title : Early morning catch
Location : Teluk Iskandar, Mersing, Johor
Date : 15.02.10

March

Title : Sarah's wedding
Location : Bandar Baru Uda, Johor Bahru
Date : 13.03.10

April

Title : Tropical rainforest
Location : FRIM, Kuala Lumpur
Date : 10.04.10

May

Title : Bukit Merah Lake
Location : Taiping, Perak
Date : 21.05.10

June

Title : Sotong masak lemak
Location : Restoran Nasi Padang Sofian, Kuantan
Date : 18.06.10

July

Title : Bee on yellow flower
Location : Floria `10, Putrajaya
Date : 16.07.10

August

Title : Kuala Lumpur night view
Location : Hulu Langat lookout point, Selangor
Date : 23.08.10

September

Title : Hari raya di desa
Location : Kg Sri Pantai, Mersing, Johor
Date : 10.09.10

October

Title : Fallen tree
Location : Hutan Lipur Sg Tua, Selangor
Date : 31.10.10

November

Title : Seafood lunch
Location : Pakbara beach, Satun, Thailand
Date : 20.11.10
 

December

Title : Sireh junjung at Fatimah's engagement
Location : Shah Alam, Selangor
Date : 11.12.10

Someone watching over me (Part 3)

To read the preceding parts, click here -> Part 1 and Part 2

It has been 3 hours since they wheeled his wife into the surgical room. By normal convention, the longer the duration of surgery, the more complicated it is. But Amir is a patient man... he knows that all is now in the hands of the Almighty. He waits... for whatever news that comes. Seems like waiting is becoming something he gets to do often nowadays.

The doctor emerges from the surgical room and approaches him. He couldn't read the tired doctor's face for signs of any clear news, be it good or bad.

He is about to get up from his seat when the good doctor motions for him to remain seated. The doctor takes the empty seat next to him.

`How are you holding on En. Amir?' the doctor asks.

`As well as can be, I guess,' he replies. `But still, praise to Allah for giving us the health and strength to carry on. Hope that you are holding on too, Doc.'

The doctor nods in agreement. He isn't sure how to start relaying the news. But after more than 20 years experience of being an O&G specialist, he has mastered the skill in telling news in a tactful manner.

`A most amazing thing happened today,' the doctor begins. `We brought your wife into the room and were preparing for the operation. Just before we were about to start, her vital signs stabilised. I was a little surprised and waited for a while to check and make sure the machines were really reading it right. Then I noticed her eyelids start to flicker and slowly open. By God I thought, she's regaining consciousness... '

`I saw her hand move slightly and I offered to hold it. Her eyes were looking straight at me... as if she wants to say something. So I leaned over and she then whispered something to me... she said, "Doc, promise me you will save my baby." I couldn't say no.... so I said, yes I promise. She smiled a little and gave a very slight nod.'

`What happened next is something I cannot explain. I have never seen anything like it. She went into labour and after a few pushes, the baby is delivered. Like any normal delivery... it is like she never had any complications before. It is like... the baby is meant to live.'

`Because of your wife's history of thyroid cancer and her radiotherapy treatment, there were other specialists present during the delivery. You know.... err... we were a bit concerned about the physical health of the baby. But we needn't have worried. You are the father of a very beautiful and perfectly healthy baby girl...'

The doctor pauses for a while after saying that last sentence. Amir knows that what follows would be the part containing the bad news.

`But... ,' Amir prompts the doctor to continue.

The doctor lets out a low sigh and resumes, `But when we cleaned the baby and was about to show her to the mother.... your wife lapsed back into coma, start to lose a lot of blood and we had to take emergency measures. The last two hours was spent trying to save her.'

`She is now stable but it is still touch and go. I am sorry I cannot promise you very much...'

Amir looks into the distance. He tries hard to understand the situation and fights back the urge to let the tears flow. The waiting room suddenly feels very quiet.

He finally breaks the silence. `Thank you Doc, for trying your best. Can I see her?'

`We are preparing to send her back to ICU,' the doctor replies. `You'll be able to see her in a short while.'

`No,' he says, `I mean my daughter.'

`Oh, of course. Follow me please.'

He follows the doctor to another part of the hospital and is shown the newborn baby girl. The moment he lays his eyes on her, he knows she is the most beautiful baby he ever saw. After waiting for so many years, he is now finally a father.

But does getting this new love of his life means that he loses another in exchange?

Time to move on...

I have been mulling about posting on this subject for some time now... the reason being that it touches on something that makes me feel a bit sore. But I decided that it may actually be good for me to write about it so that many years later I can read about it again and recall that being knocked down once in a while is part and parcel of life. And since this is the last day of the year, it seems a good time to close the issue and move on for better things.

Regular readers of this blog may recall an earlier post in March about my job transfer from my hometown in Johor Bahru to the head office in Kuala Lumpur. I wrote about that change and my hope that it would bring me some good. Actually, it didn't.

After only four months working in KL, I was told by my boss that I wasn't needed anymore. To put it in crude terms, I was fired. The official reason given was that the company was feeling the economic pinch  and the directors have decided to downsize the staff. But I wasn't born yesterday... the real reasons are not that difficult for me to speculate.

What really disappointed me was that my move from JB to KL was at the request of the boss, purportedly on the need to have someone of senior experience to lead the team of young engineers and also to represent the boss at high-level meetings with clients. I initially declined to be transferred, preferring to be released from the firm so that I can look for another job in JB itself. I have been on the move for so many years in my career and I thought that the time has come for me to stay in one place. The boss pleaded with me a few times and I finally decide to accept the transfer because I believed that it would be good to share my knowledge with the young engineers. I made the move to KL in February this year but my family was left behind in JB. In my first day at the new office, the boss expressed his deep appreciation for my decision to come over. His words of thanks were so superfluous that it embarrassed me a bit to think that I am that valuable a staff to him.

Not even half a year in my new post, in June I was given a letter of termination. Although the termination comes with some monetary compensation, the principle of it is entirely wrong. You don't retrench someone whom you asked to join just a few months earlier. Now tell me if that doesn't leave a sour taste in your mouth...

So that is why my friends, I have been taking a break from blogging for a while, just to cool my nerves so that I am not tempted to type posts that would contain nasty words.

Many friends who knew of my situation came to give words of support and encouragement... you know, the standard stuff of : things happen for a reason, you'll be tougher after this episode, God has planned better things for you etc... But the real considerate friends are those who are willing to sit with me over a glass of teh tarik and simply listen to my grumbles and rantings. Listening to my grumbles won't change a thing... but it helps release the tension in my mind and body, and allow the calm to return.

Perhaps as a means to pacify myself, I say that this event is the thing I need to push me to do something on my own and to pursue that unfulfilled ambition. And that someday, I would probably thank my former employers for giving me that push.

Well.... as it is for now, I am on my way to chase that ambition. But until I do achieve what I hope to achieve, any words of gratitude will not be forthcoming.

Happy new year to all friends and readers. Selamat Tahun Baru Masehi 2011. May the Almighty grant you all your wishes. Stay healthy and happy always...

Close call on the highway

I was driving from my home in Johor Bahru to Kuala Lumpur late last night. It was just past 10pm when I left the Kempas toll plaza heading north on the NSE. About 1km from the Skudai interchange I heard a bang and saw that a car in front of me had stopped and smoke was coming from its engine. I managed to slow down in time and as I passed the stalled car, I realised it had run into an accident with a bus in front of it.

The bus slowed down and stopped by the shoulder and I did the same. I got out of my car and walked back towards the accident scene. The bus driver was already standing at the rear of his vehicle examining a huge dent on the right corner of his bus. I asked him what happened and he said that something hit the bus from behind. I looked back towards the accident spot and to my horror, the driver was still in the wrecked car that had stopped on the left lane of the highway. This stretch of the highway is unlit and the car’s lights were all dead. Anytime another vehicle would be speeding up the lane, spot the stationary car too late and crash into it.

I immediately made a dash to the car and saw that an elderly gentleman in his 60’s was in the driver’s seat. He appeared to be talking on his mobile phone and does not look injured. Fearing for his safety, I knocked on the window and shouted at him to get out of the car…. but he did not seem to hear me. Either he is to engrossed in his call or maybe he is trapped and could not get out.

I had to make a quick on-the-spot decision : do I help him out of his car or do I signal to oncoming traffic to avoid further collision? I decided to do the latter. I have a torchlight in my car but I fear that running back to get it may be too late. The only other available source of light is my mobile phone. I turned on the phone screen and started to frantically wave at the oncoming traffic. It was one of the most dangerous things I ever did. I wasn’t sure if the tiny light from the phone is visible enough to other drivers but I had to try something. I stood by the edge of the road trying my best to warn other drivers, jumping out of the way at the last minute if they do not spot me. A few times, there were cars driving too fast…. I had to jump out of the way, heard the tyres screeching and was expecting to hear the loud bang of cars smashing into each other… but somehow they manage to swerve and avoid hitting the stationary car.

I was already praying… Dear God, I really need your help right now. Please don’t let anybody die here tonight. As if in immediate reply, the next vehicle that came by was a lorry whose driver manage to spot my frantic waving in time and slowed to a stop. The lorry driver switched on his hazard lights and helped divert other oncoming traffic to change lanes. Under this cover, the bus driver helped the old man out of his mangled car to the side of the road. Unfortunately, the lorry driver did not stay for long. As soon as the old man was out, the lorry switched lanes and moved off, leaving the smashed car still on the path of oncoming traffic.

I walked about 30 metres further up the road, still waving the tiny light of my cellphone, hoping to at least give earlier warning and increase the stopping distance. In between, I managed to squeeze in a call to Plus helpline on their 1-800 number to report the accident. Being a regular customer of Plus Expressways, their helpline number is already stored in my phone. I told the person on duty the location of the accident and stressed the need to get help fast because the area is very dark and there’s a high chance of a secondary crash.

The next few minutes waiting for help to arrive were extremely nervy. I continued to warn the oncoming traffic as best as I can and there a few more occasions of near misses. The sound of screeching tyres of cars braking hard can be quite traumatic.

I heaved a huge sigh of relief when I spotted the flashing beacon of the Plus patrol truck. The Plus personnel quickly deployed road cones and arranged for the crash debris to be swept off the road.

I made my way back to old man and asked him, `Are you okay, Uncle?’ Yes, he said. I told him that I was worried when he did not get out of his car and my fear of another vehicle hitting him. He said he was in a bit of a shock then and his first reaction was to call his friend. It didn’t occur to him that he should’ve gotten out of the car first.

He then took my hand and shook it. `Thank you,’ he said. `Thank you very much.’

By that time the traffic police had arrived and wanted to ask him questions, so I slowly slipped out of the way but not without snatching a pic of the damaged car.

Luckily the old man was driving alone. I dread to think if there was someone with him in the front passenger seat.

 Close call for the driver of this car

Three reasons to be proud

Whenever there comes a need for me to reflect on my achievements in life thus far, I always fall back on the fact that I have three smart and responsible sons. I may not have hit my ambition of making my first million by forty. I am not yet a big tauke and I still have large credit card debts to settle. But despite all the problems and struggles, I can still look at my three sons and say that I have at least done that part of it right, the raising of them I mean.

My first and second sons did very well in their studies and are now pursuing tertiary education overseas. Both are taking up medicine.

Yesterday, my third and youngest son Imran Azizi showed that he is as clever as his elder brothers by scoring in the PMR exams. My hope is for him to continue to study well and proceed to the highest level. He has indicated that he is not interested in becoming a doctor but that's okay by me. He can be anything he wants to be as long as he puts his skills and knowledge to good use.

When my son was taking the exams a few months ago, I decided to be the one to drive him to school everyday. This was after hearing advice from a close friend who said that being there for my son would be the best support that a father can ever give. By coincidence, two situations abled or perhaps forced me to carry out the task. Firstly, I was without a steady job at the time and secondly, my wife was still recovering from ailment which caused her to be hospitalised the week before. So like it or not, it was something that I had to do... and I wanted to, anyway. So everyday on exam day for almost 2 weeks, I drove my son to school, dropped him off at the gate, got out of the car, say a short silent prayer before hugging him and wishing him luck. He may not have required it but there's nothing to lose and it feels good doing so.

There was even one day where there was another exam paper in the afternoon which meant he couldn't come home for lunch. On that day, my wife and I bought him his favourite nasi ambeng, brought it to school where we had lunch together. I enjoyed doing that and hope I can do it again some time in future. Pretty soon he'll be all grown-up and there's no more child of school-going age left in the house.


I am sort of going through a rough patch on the workfront since a few months ago but the good results from my son yesterday really brightened up my day... so I hope readers can pardon me for this post of self-gratification. I am pretty confident things will become better for us in the coming days. Thanks also to my better half for helping raise three lovely boys. Most of the credit should go to her...

Effbeeing... a new word to add to your vocabulary

A few weeks back, some of the commenters suggested that I have been away from blogging because I probably spend more time on Facebook. Hmmm.... to a certain degree I guess that is true. Although I have been an FB member for more than two years, the appeal of logging online to this social networking website is still not lost to me.

Effbeeing is different from blogging.... yeah, I know there is no such word as `effbeeing', but I'd like to use it anyway. It is an alternative way of saying `FBing' or `facebooking', i.e. the action of spending time online on Facebook. Some of my friends even use the Malay version of `berfb' (pronounced ber-eff-bee), so go figure.

I'm sure many of you have read or heard stories of addiction to this latest online activity. It has been blamed for non-productive employee hours to the extent that some companies block the connection from their office computers. I am not quite an addict but I admit that I do spend time effbeeing because I like to be connected to friends. And thus the likely cause of me spending less time on blogging...

Blogging really appeals only to writers... because that is what it essentially is, putting thoughts, stories or ideas in the form of words onto paper, or in this case, on a computer screen. And since I consider myself a writer, I don't think I'll stop blogging any time soon. Only that my writing is now a bit sparse compared to when I first started... and to justify this, you'll expect me to say that it wasn't about quantity in the first place. Hehehe... excuses, excuses.. Actually though, there is a more valid reason why my frequency of writing has dropped of late... but I'll write about it a bit later, next year perhaps.

Ok back to this phenomenon of effbeeing... apparently there are more than 500 million users of Facebook today and the company is estimated to be worth USD35billion. Mark Zuckerberg, the creator of FB is the youngest ever billionaire. I recently watched the movie `The Social Network', about how it all started. Quite an interesting film actually, because it does not have the documentary style that I sort of expected. One lesson I remember from the movie is this : When it comes to money (especially when it is a lot of money), loyal friends can become enemies.

The question in my mind now is, after FB, what next? For those of us who grew up with computing from the days of punchcards, writing in BASIC and working with DOS, there have been many revolutions in the IT world. IBM, Lotus 1-2-3, Microsoft Windows, Internet, dotcom explosion, Yahoo and Google. Some have survived this far while some are now but distant memories. Will Facebook last or will there be another phenomenon after it?

May her patience be rewarded

It was on this day last week my wife received a telephone call from someone at her hometown. It was unexpected news. My mother-in-law has passed away while seated at the living room. Her death was discovered by a neighbour who had come to visit my ailing father-in-law.

I say that her demise was unexpected because it is my father-in-law who is the weaker of the two. He is now 95-years old and has been bedridden for more than 4 years. He suffers from most of the ailments inherent of old age but the primary affliction is prostate cancer that I previously wrote about two years ago, here -> Internal plumbing.

My mother-in-law, on the other hand, was still able to move about on her own and except for her history of hypertension, was comparatively in better health. Actually she was not exactly my mother-in-law... because my original one passed away in September 1998. After a year of her passing, my father-in-law remarried another lady because he felt that he still require the companionship. At that time, my new stepmother-in-law, if there is such a term, was already a widow of more than 30 years. It actually puzzled me a bit why she agreed to marry my FIL, because it was quite clear that the ensuing years would entail difficulties. My FIL is not a young man anymore, he can hardly be called wealthy and he is known to be short-tempered.

Over the years of this new marriage, she tried her best to take care of my FIL. As the old man's health deteriorated and his need for attention became more demanding, the challenges became tougher. There were voices of dissatisfaction from both sides of the family. At one instance, some of my wife's brothers even took the drastic attempt of trying to separate them.

But the will of the Almighty is great... the old couple remained together despite the troubles and my stepmother-in-law did her best in carrying out her duties. She may have grumbled a bit, here and there... but that's to be expected. Taking care of an old and temperamental man is not easy work by any means... but she stuck to the job very well. Only Allah swt can repay her for her patience and kindness.

Hajjah Satirah Bt Omar passed away on 2nd December 2010 at the age of 74. May Allah swt bless and protect her soul. Ameen.

Okay, that's fine too...

I read with interest the news in today's The Star Online about the government's offer to traffic offenders who have outstanding summons. A 50% discount is offered to those who pay up within the first half of this month. The offer then drops to 30% if the fines are paid in the second half of December. After that, there's no more mercy.

On the way home from work, BFM radio station invited telephone calls from listeners who wish to air their views on this matter. A number of those who phoned-in, disagreed with the discount offer primarily because they believe it will make traffic offenders more complacent. Some even suggested that the fines should be increased, otherwise we would never see a reduction in our accident statistics.

We can argue about this issue both ways but personally for me at the present moment, I am all for the discount offer... and I am sure all of you can guess why. I have two outstanding summonses to my name, amounting to RM450. Half of that amount is not an insignificant value by any means of measurement. While I appreciate the reduction, it does not mean that I condone traffic offenders. I seriously believe the reckless drivers should be penalised heavily and this discount offer apparently does not apply to those in that category.

In my case, both my summonses apply to speeding but my gripe is that they occured so long ago and I never received any written notice from the police. The first offence was recorded as happening in 2005 while the second one presumably took place in 2007. I never had any trouble renewing my road tax from 2005 until this year... and that's a 5-year period. I only knew I had unsettled summonses after registering with the MyEG portal two months ago.

The police are probably right about those occassions they caught me speeding and probably I deserve to be fined. But what I am not quite satisfied about is the time and method they took to issue the summons. Actually, if I had not registered at MyEG, I wouldn't have known about it. It shows a lack of urgency on their part for not following up on an offence that was committed five years ago. Alternatively, we can argue that speeding offences are not a priority on the police list and therefore not serious.

Anyway, everything is fine now... I'll just settle half of my fine and then I'll be fine.

Soporific...

A few days ago, I was about to go out on some errands when I was distracted by something being shown on TV. The television was on the HBO channel and was playing a movie called `Wit'. The scene was a hospital examination room and the patient, played by Emma Thompson, was narrating something in a lovely English accent. I ended up watching the movie right to the end and forgot all about my errands.

Vivian Bearing is a professor of English literature who has just been diagnosed of ovarian cancer. She is about to undergo an experimental aggresive chemotherapy treatment and the movie shows her struggles throughout the process. A large part of the film shows Bearing in monologue... and it clearly demonstrates the strength and acting skill of Thompson in handling the character.

Towards the middle of the movie, there is this scene in flashback where Bearing recalls the exact moment when she knew that words would be her life's work. She was reading a Beatrix Potter book titled `The Tale of The Flopsy Bunnies' when she comes across a new word that she does not know the meaning of. Say it in bits, says her father. So-por-i-fic.

It means something that tends or has the the effect to cause sleep. Like certain drugs and medication... or boring conversation... or a heavy meal on a warm afternoon.

The movie is almost pure dialogue with no action scene whatsoever... and I loved it. Indeed, it would ironically have the same soporific effect on viewers who prefer the action-flick movie genre.

Soporific... what a wonderful new word I learned this week. It brings to memory of a time that really fits the description of this word. The year was 1979... and I was in Form 5 of boarding school. The Science subjects are all taught in the laboratory classroom where three long workbenches face the front blackboard. There were 25 students in our class consisting of 9 girls and 16 boys. By tradition, the girls would sit at the frontmost workbench while the boys take up the remaining two rows.

When it came to Physics class, the boys would make it a point to come early because everyone wants to sit in the back row, even if it means squeezing for space. At times, there would be up to 12 guys seated at the back... meaning that only 4 would sit in the middle row. Glaringly obvious and disproportionate. The reason for this is that Physics class is real boring and it is quite a challenge to remain awake. Presumably, sitting as far away from the teacher as possible would make it less likely for him to spot us dozing off during his lecture.

I could not be bothered to rush for a back row seat so most of the time I am one of the minority who sits in the middle row. To stop myself from falling asleep, I began to sharpen my skill in doodling. My Form 5 Physics notebook probably has more creative drawings than formulas or calculations. It still puzzles me sometimes how I ended up doing engineering.

Soporific... lovely word.

Sacrifice... just a simple word

It has been more than a week since Aidiladha and my post about the qurbani celebration of this year is still not up. Just shows you how much I have been procrastinating.

Sacrifice... just a simple word. What does it actually mean? Is it a difficult thing to do? Is it actually worth doing?

Of course there are no straight answers. Sacrifice means different things to different people... and it comes in different levels. If we are to consider the historical act of Nabi Ibrahim (a.s.) offering his son Nabi Ismail for slaughter, then I have in no way reached that level of faith. Nonetheless, each and every one of us has faced tests and trials in our lifetime and no doubt, has had to sacrifice something along the way. Perhaps what makes certain levels of sacrifice a difficult thing to do is when we have to offer something of value in exchange for something that is not yet tangible or certain. In all likelihood, we may not even be able to experience or get the return we expect the sacrifice to bring. In other words, there is always the chance that we may lose. Sounds a bit like a wager, doesn't it?

But to me, it is not... because the noblest aspect of sacrifice is expecting nothing in return.

Ok then... now to what I did during the Hari Raya Korban holidays. This time around, we made a day trip to my parents in Singapore. Ar-raudah Mosque is located just across the road from my mom's flat in Bukit Batok. Every year the mosque organizes a community qurbani event where sheep are offered for slaughter. When I was younger, I helped out the organizing committee as a volunteer... basically doing simple things like herding the sheep, packing the mutton and cleaning up the place. It has been quite a while now since I last volunteered. Many of the younger generation are at hand to help out. Nowadays, I am just an observer.

Ar-raudah Mosque committee has been doing the qurbani for so many years that they have near-perfected the system of organization. From the initial registration, the import of sheep from Australia, the veterinary requirements, the temporary pen, the slaughter, the butchering, the packing of the meat, the distribution of various portions and the final clean-up and disposal. As smooth as clockwork. The following are some pics that I took of the process... except for the part where the sheep went under the knife because I couldn't get access.

Hope that your Aidiladha this year was a memorable one...

Ar-raudah Mosque front entrance

Sheep for the slaughter

Cleaning up the crap is a dirty job, but someone has to do it

Crowd at the meat distribution counter

Volunteers distributing the portions of free meat. Note the sign above...

I didn't have that level of `sabar'... so I didn't `beratur'

Those who queued for the free mutton

The mid-day heat did not deter those who have patience

The queue stretched to the outside of the mosque compound

Jangan tinggal daku...

One of my favourite songs to sing at any karaoke session (which is not too often, if I may say) is P. Ramlee's `Jangan Tinggal Daku'. No particular significance why I like it except that it has a soothing melody and that the song's key fall within my limited vocal range.

If this blog can sing... that would probably be the song of choice. I have been neglecting this blog for too long and who could blame it for feeling left behind. Even the last post was a feeble attempt at giving it an impression of being updated... *sigh*

It is going to be Aidiladha tomorrow.... and I can still remember our qurbani celebrations of last year. It is a bit quiet for this year.

I am still working on getting things in order on the work front.... which explains part of the reason for silence in this blog. Hopefully things will work out soon so that I can get back into the rhythm of writing. Thanks to some friends and readers who dropped me a message saying that they are missing me. Seganlah pulak I dibuatnya... heheheh...

Anyway, just a small point to highlight before I end this post... I've just noticed that the Malay word `tinggal' carries two meanings that are distinctly opposite. It can mean `leave'... as is in `Don't leave me...', the translation of this post's title. It can also mean `stay'... as in `Anda tinggal di mana?', translated to `Where do you stay?'

Hmmm.... so should I leave or should I stay?

Selamat Hari Raya Korban to all friends. May all your sacrifices be amply rewarded...

The no. 1 breakfast

Without doubt, the most favourite meal to start the day for most Malaysians is a plate of roti canai. Pair that with a glass of teh tarik (or in my case, nescafe tarik) and we have the quintessential Malaysian breakfast.

Roti canai is a simple flat bread that originated from India. I first knew of this bread by its original name of paratha.There are a few theories on how the Malay name of canai came to be... Wikipedia offers three possibilities.

What started off as a simple plain dough-only bread has now evolved into a few versions. We now can order roti telur (an egg beaten into the folds of the bread), roti telur bawang (the previous version plus chopped onions), roti planta (with a knob of margarine), roti sardin (with some sardines) and even roti pisang (with sliced bananas). Another popular variety, at least here in JB, is roti tampal. I had breakfast with a friend from Penang recently and when he heard me ordering roti tampal, he was a bit puzzled. Roti tampal is made by frying an egg (bull's eye style) and placing an already fried plain roti on top of it so the egg sticks to the bread... hence the `tampal' name. The skill in doing this is to make sure the egg sticks and the yolk remains round and not fully cooked. This way, you will have the nice gooey yolk smearing over the bread pieces as you tuck in.... yummy.

Even the way roti canai is served has different variants. While the standard sauce or gravy accompanying the bread is plain curry, most mamak shops offer dhal-curry or fish-curry. Most Malay stalls also offer a dollop of sambal tumis on the side. Some patrons prefer the gravy spread over the bread and soaking it... the term being used here is `kuah banjir'. Others prefer the bread to be shredded to pieces first before serving (roti koyak). And then there are others who like their roti canai served with sugar or even condensed milk.

When I worked in the UAE a few years ago, it was easy for me to have paratha for breakfast because there are many Indian restaurants. A standard order of paratha comes in two pieces... it seems that the Indian workers over there have large appetites. But that's just about it... no roti tampal or roti telur or roti bawang or whatever else have you. So when it comes to variety, there is no place like home.

Ok then... enough of writing. Time to get my morning dose of roti tampal and nescafe tarik...

Someone watching over me (Part 2)

To read the preceding part click here -> Part 1

He first saw her in the university library. She was sitting alone at a table with a few thick books around her, intently reading one and occasionally writing down notes. She was dressed in a simple beige-coloured blouse and denim jeans… it surprised him that he had not noticed her earlier. He had started to help out at the library since the start of the term after completing his degree in Library Science the previous academic year. She must have been coming to the library before that day but somehow managed to remain inconspicuous, to him at least.

But it was only three weeks later that he managed to work up the nerve to say something. He had been observing her the past weeks and noted that she mostly spent time in the library in the afternoons. Sometimes she would study with some friends but most of the time she was alone. None of the friends who have accompanied her so far, are men. That afternoon, she was again alone and was tidying up the table to go home. She brought a thick book to the checkout counter where he was on duty.

It is now or never, he thought.

As he scanned her library card and stamped the due date on the book, he noted the book’s title. `An Introduction To Fortran Programming’ by some overseas professor with a weird-sounding name. Whoever thought to call a 2-inch thick book `Introduction…’ must have got his bearings wrong.

As he handed the book back to her, he said, `That’s heavy stuff you're reading.’

She smiled and replied, `Yes, literally.’ He can’t help but smile back. The ice has been broken.

The polite greetings the following days became easy… but it was not until another three weeks that he found the guts to ask her out for a date. Well, you can’t really call it a date because it was just a drink at the cafeteria located opposite the library.

Their friendship blossomed and he continued courting her throughout the three years she took to complete her degree. They married the month after she graduated.

It was a happy first few years for the young couple. She easily got a job at a multi-national computer chip manufacturer while he had secured a permanent posting at the university’s library a few years earlier. There were no signs of the stork arriving yet but they were not unduly worried.

And then in their third year of marriage, the bad news came to the surface. She had been complaining of sore throat on a number of occasions which were treated by the standard prescription of antibiotics and lozenges. The illness came and went. But when her voice became hoarse and breathing became difficult, they decided to seek specialist advice. After a few tests, the diagnosis was heartbreaking.

She has thyroid cancer…

In appreciation of friends and teachers

I guess it is now time for me to get off this break and start writing something again. The hiatus is not doing any good to the creative juices yearning to escape from my idle mind. Perhaps I shall resume with an event that happened during this Hari Raya month.

Two Saturdays ago, I helped organize a reunion of my old schoolmates in conjunction with the Aidilfitri celebrations. Previous reunions have been held before but on a smaller scale. What made this one a bit special than previous gatherings was the presence of some of our former teachers. In fact, this particular event was made in special dedication for a particular teacher named Mohd Zin Abu.

It all started off with an exchange of comments during the fasting month between Cikgu Zin and some of my friends on Facebook, on how he would love to meet some of his former students from MRSM Kuantan. Cikgu Zin is presently posted in Cairo, Egypt but would be back in Malaysia for the Hari Raya holidays. This prompted a few of us to get together and decide to hold a reunion. And so it was, on Saturday 18 September 2010, a lovely and cheerful meeting between old friends and teachers was held at Shah Alam. For some of us, it was the first re-connection after a lapse of 31 years.

Thirty-one students of the MCE/SPM batch of 1979 turned up plus seven of our former teachers. Some came from as far Kuantan, Johor Bahru and even Kangar, Perlis.

Cikgu Zin used to teach us Science... but apart from the academic subjects, he was like a father and advisor to most of us. It was a role that he carried out extremely well and even after retiring from teaching, he is asked to perform the same tasks today. Cikgu Zin is presently in Cairo on the payroll of the Negeri Sembilan state government, to act as guardian to all NS-sponsored students pursuing their tertiary studies in Egypt. The students there call him `Ayah' and his wife `Ibu'... what more endearing term can there be.

We took the opportunity to invite some other teachers to come to the reunion as well. Our thanks to Mr Peter Ng, Cikgu Kandan, Cikgu Rahmah, Ustaz Yusof Othman, Cikgu Hasmah and Puan Faizah for graciously making the event a truly memorable one. My thanks to all my old friends too... for making it an everlasting friendship.

Footnote : This post is also in dedication to blogger-friend Dr Hasmawati of BrainDrain, in Manchester, England. 

 Cikgu Zin sharing with us his adventures to date

Three wise educators - Cikgu Kandan, Ustaz Yusof and Cikgu Zin

Group photo of those who attended