Selfish almost.

Sometimes I’m so focused on my own personal growth I don’t notice the growth that’s surrounding me. Once we immerse ourselves in our minds, we become selfish almost – more accurately egocentric. Who can blame us? We only feel how we feel, we only know what we think and we can only imagine what others are going through. Is that selfish of us? To function as we’re meant to function? To live our life for ourself, is that selfish? These are the questions I’ve been asking myself lately.

To start, I’ve been growing to see life in a more egocentric point of view. I’ve been focused on my own goals, and my own journey that I don’t think even think about other people. I use to believe this focus I had was great, the right kind of focus (Jangan pijak tepi kain orang kinda focus yknow). But this way of life that I’ve immersed myself in drowned me whole. I only care about me, me, me. Mostly focused on my personal growth that I fail to realise the growth of those close to me – My parents. It took me to stand behind an old couple struggling to go up the stairs of the tube to realise that my parents are growing too. To see a recent photo of them from what I used to know, to realise their hair are getting greyer and their wrinkles are setting deeper.


Have you ever felt like time stops around you? When I was younger and I would always be asked how old I am by aunties and uncles and I would always be aware of my age, and know how to answer correctly. However, when teachers or anyone else ask me how old my mom was I would say 43 years old for 3-4 consecutive years. I would do the same with my sister. I would tell people she was 16 for years. This serves as the earliest evidence of egocentric behaviour from myself. I wouldn’t notice other people’s growth as I would with my own growth. Though we would celebrate my mom’s birthday every year, it just doesn’t register to me that she too grows old. Especially when you’re growing so fast and each year is such a huge step, what is 43 compared to 44 right? You get me? Looking at old photo albums, I only notice difference in appearance when it’s half a decade apart. But looking at my old photo albums, I can see the difference within months of the pictures taken. Who would know you better than yourself right? There’s nothing wrong with that.

But now to see the growth that I’ve missed of my parents because I was so self centred, it’s something I can’t take back. We’re all aware that our parents’ observe and document our growth; they know every firsts, and everything you’ve done. They can map out each scar, and tell each story. They were there for your whole life, and we came only half way through theirs. What scars can we map out? What stories can we tell? How well do we actually know our parents? But while we’re growing to achieve our own personal goals we shouldn’t lose touch with the growth of our parents and those surrounding us. Time doesn’t stop around us, I know that by now. Time goes on whether we like it or not and time with our parents, are ticking whether we realise it or not. You’re not the only one growing, they’re growing too. With their own personal milestone like, my dad retired last year and my mom started wearing the hijab. They’re growing and we should just be there to observe and document in any way we can while time continues to tick.



Summer 2k17

I’ve always waited for inspiration to kick in before I start writing. BUT BLANK. My mind has been blank. Thus, no update since the last post in April. IT’S JUNE ALINA. But I’ve been meaning to write about my few final days before the summer holidays. So here is the post, that will commemorate my Summer 2k17


To start off, it’s difficult being friends with international students. Once it’s summer, they’re all gone. Each and everyone boarding on a different plane going back to places they each call home. Be it Singapore, Brunei, Sri Lanka, Dubai or even Jordan. Spread across the world, all we had was our shared final night in Nottingham. It was my final night at the place where I spent the first few weeks crying and struggling to find comfort in a home away from home, only to find myself surprisingly… dreading to leave.


It’s surprising what a foreign place can turn into when you put the right people in it. A room is only a room, but with the right people it’s a home. I discovered my love for my first year of degree reaching it’s peak during the final weeks of exams season. This is where we bond most I guess, while everyone face their own struggles. We tend to depend on each other more for emotional support. The Core Crew (lame I know), but we literally spent everyday with each other – breakfast, lunch, dinner. With piles of books, and empty packets of snacks on the table. Sharing movies in-between revision breaks with 12am quizzes, and 2am naps. Stress was instantaneously paired with laughter.



Other than my friends, I did fall in love with the place too. I found comfort in Nasi Kukus in front of Tesco, RM4 uber rides to McDonalds, RK Fatima Roti Telur for 3pm breakfast and all-day fluffy Pancakes at Breakfast Club. Although, I hated how far away UNMC was from the city, and I’m sure I’ve mentioned this numerous of times previously. But being in the middle of nowhere do have its perks. One major one as the visible starry sky. The stars that would accompany me during my pitch black walk back to my room from the Core, made me want to study longer into the night. Because the later the night, the darker the sky – hence, more stars. It would scatter all around, and sometimes cluster at one side. At the UNMC bridge, I would stand there for hours feeling so small comparing myself to the universe.




On my last night in UNMC, we did exactly that. But rather than standing on the bridge, we sat at the rooftop. Lied on the metallic roof, with the sounds of sniffling mice and stepping into the unseen puddles on the floor. We stayed there for the whole night. Only left to eat right before dawn. We lied flat on the roof, and tilted our head up to look above and noticed how infinite the universe is – realising the sphere shape of the world. Contemplating the existence of other creatures of God and how lonely it would be if we were the only living thing in the entire universe. Whenever, a bird would fly across we would be startled and, if we were quiet enough we could hear every plane that flew above us.



However, it was Aimin’s Penis shaped constellation, Izran’s philosophy class and Mali’s laughter echoing across the night – that made it an incomparable night. The comfortable silence, of nothing but our heavy breathing accompanied with Coldplay’s music. I also finally found the sole purpose of it, it’s to be played for moments like this. To feel nostalgic for something that hasn’t passed yet, but we know will. We were harmonising to Yellow, and whispered all together “I want something just like this.”   And in that moment, while we stared into “forever” and celebrated each shooting star we didn’t miss – I felt both immortal and mortal all at once.

How my cat died. 

“Life’s a hint” I once told Amirul. It’s like a really good literature book, yknow. There’s just tiny hints scattered between the pages, we as the reader know but for some reason the characters would always be caught off guard when it happens. Which is rather odd. This is the story on how my first pet died. How life hinted me, I saw the hints but was still caught off guard.

Last week I saw a tweet of a conversation:

“How is it like having a cat?”

“It’s great. But if your cat dies, and you don’t cry .. you’re amazing.”
I saw the tweet, and it made me think – that one day my cats are going to die. They are apart of the life cycle at the end of the day. But how would I react? How would I be ? I even tweeted about it.

That was obviously hint one from the mighty writer of life above.

Then, I found myself to talk about my cats a lot this week. I told Mali about all three of my cats as if they were my children #catlady. I told her about Baby (the first), Jack (the dumb one), and Ed (the funny fat one). I told their stories and their traits. But I kept going back to Baby, and telling Mali how she’s the bitchiest cat but she’s my mom’s favourite. It was always a joke of whether my mom loved me more or baby more. How her meow was really soft, like it’s a proper meow. I told Mali about the time we first got her, and how she was so tiny that she ran into one of the steps of my house. How baby would bite if you stop patting her. I usually would talk about Jack or Ed more, because they’re younger and the memories would be fresher. I even made a joke to my friends that if any of my cats die, I need an emotional leave as if a family member died. That should’ve been hint number 2.

I would always leave my laptop on with a random Jane the Virgin episode for it not to be too quiet when I’m in my room. I don’t watch it, I would do my own thing – Clean up or organise my room. The episode that was on was the episode they were having a flashback on how Jane and Michael met. They were arguing and Jane said “Have fun with your cat!” and Michael said “My cat just died !”. For some odd reason, the words “My cat just died” would always catch my attention, and it would ring in my ears. Until now actually. That should’ve been hint number 3?

My family group chat was blowing up on Thursday. How my sister is asking my mom to bring Baby to the Vet because of her heavy breathing but no one could reach my mom. I called, non stop until she finally answered. My sister in law took a video of Baby breathing heavily but looking so weak. Her head rested on her bowl, and she had blood around her mouth area. News from the vet was that she was just having phlegm in her lungs, she was incubated. My mom made a joke saying it’s the same sickness as my nephew. Even though she didn’t go on Thursday, it stayed at the back of my mind.
Friday came. It was an amazing day. I felt good, I couldn’t imagine anything to go wrong. I was about to go home with Amirul, we drove home at night for once. There was a t-junction, and Amirul was about to turn right and then I saw a big round light. Amirul was about to go straight to the light of the motorbike  because he was looking the other way. I tapped his arm, and he was getting closer – the light didn’t move though. I screamed and only then Amirul swerved the other way. I don’t know why I didn’t see that hint, that something bad was going to happen that day.

When I got the text from my mom saying “Baby dah mati.” It was so sudden. I was in shock, in the car I just looked at amirul and said “baby died” and burst into tears. In the Friday night KL jam, I drenched Amirul’s shoulders.

My tears stopped when I came home. I saw my mom and baby, on the floor in front of the entranced. Broke down a bit but collected myself to keep Amirul comfortable. It was my mom and my sister sitting on the floor with baby at the entrance, my dad watching TV and Amirul and I eating at the kitchen island. That was the first night, where I’d eat chicken and Baby wasn’t on the table asking for some of it.

The funeral went like this, it was done in the rain. My mom dug out the hole by herself at the back. Later my sister went over and watched as she bawled in tears. Ed was at the neighbour’s roof watching over us. He just stared. For some reason he looked sad and it’s as if he questioned it. He kept meowing slowly. Then, as my sister laid Baby down wrapped with a towel. All three of us burst into tears. She was stiff, she died in the position of how she would usually sleeps, curved in ball and her hand covering her eyes. My mom pulled the soil together and buried her up – repeating “Bye kesayangan Mak” (Good bye my love). She just kept saying “Tidur dengan aman baby, tidur dengan aman” (Rest in peace). As she was covering baby, she said that she was sorry. She couldn’t stop apologising for the times she was angry at her. For being mad when she doesn’t finish her food and wanting more. She repeatedly said “Mak minta maaf mak lambat bawak ke doctor” (I’m sorry I was late on bringing you to the doctor). And when she was done, she pressed down the soil together and broke down. She repeated bye baby, bye baby, bye baby. It’s what we would say when we go out as she watches us leave. But this time, it’s the last time we would say it, and it’s Baby that’s leaving us. It drizzled over us and the rain got heavier. Ed went over to where we buried Baby, and sniffed around it. We looked at him, he knows. He came over and walked home with us.

She was my first pet, she grew up with me. We first got her when we came back from London, she made Malaysia feel like home. Only 4 weeks old, she was the baby of the house. She would come on night car rides with us, and sit on the dashboard till she out grew it. She would lick my ice cream when I wasn’t looking. Baby made me love cats when I was terrified of them. She met all my friends, from secondary (both schools), to Pre U. They know how much my family loves Baby and how she’s family.

It’s the thought of no more grey fur would be on my clothes. The thought of no more meow as I’m washing the dishes. She’ll never be on the kitchen island anymore asking for a pat. We won’t have to go to the grocery store and search for her favourite food anymore. I came down the stairs in the middle of the night, and I imagined her at the end of the steps but she wasn’t there and won’t be there anymore. She won’t be the first one to greet us anymore when we get back home, peeping through the blinds. I hope we gave her a good life, with enough love. Nearly 7 years old, you made my life a loving one.

Life is a hint. But no amount of hints would actually prepare me for Baby’s death. Bye Baby, I will always love you.


You can say I’m a soppy person. Definitely a soppy person – Overemotional could be a word to define me. I believe I learnt it from my sister.

 I can’t forget the time during raya, when we were all in our Baju kurung and eating kuih raya watching VMAs (YEARS AGO). Beyonce was performing, and then when she finished she drops her microphone and opens the button of her suit and rubs her baby bump. (Iconic moment I’m sure you guys know what I’m talking about.) My sister jumped out her seat and screamed and turned tomato red ! And bawled out in tears. I was like wtheck ??? I’ll never forget that event. That could be the most emotional my sister has been ever in her lifetime over such a little thing. She cried happy tears for Beyonce as if Queen B was her BESTFRIEND ! 

But now. I’m just like that. Ok, maybe not that level yet. But I cry, a lot. Not because of my problems or anything. But little things like that. I cry watching movies, and I’m not even ashamed of it anymore. I no longer hide it. *sobs and blows nose loudly in the cinema* I’m that girl. Don’t ever mention to Amirul the time he went to watch Love, Rosie with me. He asked me if I was okay so many times because of how much I was crying. Poor boy looked frightened. After that we never went to watch romantic movies in the cinema ever again. I learnt to watch it by myself, at home. ME BEFORE YOU I’M COMING FOR YOU. 

So, when Amirul bought me the book Soppy. (Which has been on my list for so damn long because it was out of stock in Kinokuniya for so long!) I cried.

 I literally screamed when I got the message. It was so unexpected. He told me he was going to go to the bank with Pizzo, I didn’t know the bank was near KLCC and I didn’t even think of him buying it for me. But man. Idk why but when he gives me books for some reason I cry… 

Basically, I do this thing where I actually send him emails and write him letters. When I want to remember a date or when I want to explain myself or what I’m feeling. One time, I sent him the comic strips from Soppy which I found on tumblr. Lots of it. And all I said was how cute is this. Then months later, I found out what book it was and told him about it. Didn’t expect him to get it for me.  #howdidigetsoblessed

Amirul’s 21st Birthday.

I prepared myself for this since 2015 September. I saved money since then! Although I didn’t really have an idea of what I wanted to get him. The foot ball boots he wanted were sold out. The other thing he wanted was a laptop. Lol no. So I went back to basics, his favourite things. Other than watches, SHOES.

He’s a loafers guy. Said he’s size 8, got me confused because that’s so big, bigger than my brother’s feet. So then, I remembered this one time he slipped on my brother’s shoes and it fit him perfectly. So we settled that he’s my brother’s size. SO that caused me to drag my brother with me everywhere to find Amirul’s shoes. FYI, men’s shoes are just as complicated as women’s OK. Loafers, driving shoes, buckle???, dress shoes, boat shoes. Good god.

I also got him a “pre birthday present” (yes I’m that girlfriend). Just to get him excited for his birthday. I got him a new era SnapBack, personalised with him name. Black on black. It’s pretty cool, I love the cap myself.

(Creds to Iddin’s snapchat.)

I had to wrap the birthday present too, because ripping off a present is the best feeling ever! Mimi (Najmi) came over, to help me do that. We took hours. Even played with our scissors and tapes in the end. Had to have a break for an Adele kareoke session with Kakak. Trying to wrap a SnapBack with no box is hard okay.

I have to thank the men that are in my life, that have helped me made my man real happy and special on his birthday. #goodjobteam

Fast forward to yesterday 11/4/2016.

He loved his shoe. Thank god. And the shoe fits ! ALHAMDULILLAH. Worth it. And he loved his SnapBack.

ON TO THE FEAST. I told him to decide where to have lunch. And I’ll decide for dinner. He asked for Rakuzen. Which was delicious, and perfect for the starting feast. We ate so much, that we had a food coma just as soon as we reached home. Napped for like 10 minutes. Did some go pro tutorial and shiz. Hung out with my mom.

(After rakuzen we went to forever 21 OU just to take a picture there)


(Go pro tutorial)

Dinner was Bombay Palace ! This boy can swim in curry, so I thought Indian cuisine would be perfect. And it was. We were the youngest in the room, celebrating 21 like a stepping stone, a new era. I bet the rest were just looking at us – going “pfft.”

After that, we took the go pro for a test run at the parking lot over looking the KLCC. MY GOD WAS THAT BEAUTIFUL. It’s dodgy af tho, up there at night, all alone.  The city lights just lighted up the sky. We really do have a beautiful city, just need to appreciate it more.

Outdid myself this year. HOW NOW ? What do I do next year 🙆🏽

Question: how do you know you’ve found ‘the one’ when you haven’t met the other 6 billion people on earth? 

The answer is: anyone after him you will meet feels like a step backwards. A reminder that you don’t want to meet anyone else. A hundred. A thousand. A million people. Won’t match up. You’ll try again. You meet people only to be reminded that “the one” is already known to you. Already familiar. Even before you’ve met them or introduced yourself. There’s that gut feeling of trouble.