So what's the plan now?
So what's the deal now?
Should you or shouldn't you?


I'm a doctor,
That's what I am

I'm a writer,
That's what I am

I'm a singer,
That's what I am

Sometimes, you just need somebody to tell you that you can

Life is about timing, opportunity and choices.

Travelling is fun, especially when you meet total random strangers who tell you their stories.

One of them is the cash machine security guard whom I met outside a pashmina shop while the girls went in for bargain battle again. He is a Nepalese who used to work in Malaysia 3 years ago. He told me he worked in JB at a hardware manufacturing company. His Malay is surprisingly fluent, for, he explained, he dated an Indonesian before. He too had a Vietnamese girlfriend keeping him accompany all those 5 long years. Owh wait, I thought Nepalese get married early, is he having an affair out there? "Buddy, don't spread this out, I daren't tell my wife about their existence." So I was right, the Indonesian and Vietnamese ladies were his mistress overseas. "You sure are one big international playboy, my friend," We laughed. "My wife has always been suspicious of the mysterious night calls I received. But she found out nothing about them. I wouldn't be here talking to you if she has."

I guess that's the fun of travelling, meeting random people and listening to their secret of life which even their closest one doesn't even know of.

Ah, what an honour to have such a random street friend, and, of course, to have also seen his little mischievous cat in the bag.

It's the time of the year again.
When you look out from the window, you will find that big pearly moon.
While everyone else is enjoying their mid-autumn with beloved family,
I am here alone again, with tonnes of work at hand, millions of submission pending.

I turned on my old tiny phone. The one that I have used for years, tiny, weightless, filled with dust within the screens.

Having it charged for a few hours, it's back on life again. Out of boredom, I start browsing through the messages I received. It's mostly job-related messages at first, then I found them. The messages my best friends, students, teachers sent me. Such reminiscence, pretty amazing how I have kept them till now. All the wishes before I flew overseas, two years ago. And it's bizarre 9 out of 10 messages asked me not to study too hard. Well, am I one hardcore geek to them? Owh well, maybe that’s what I was. Or maybe I still am.

Few more hours, I'll be leaving all these bullshits and head home, finally. Even though it's just going to be a week, I will still cherish the moment. Make sure that I appreciate each and every second with my family, friends, and, of course, food! Home, o' sweet home. That's all I have in my mind at the moment.

It would be a lazy weekend mid noon.

I would be dragged out of my comfortable bed, out of my sweet little Sunday dream. The next thing you know, I would be sitting beside wood planks of my size at the back of the old Saga. The sweet scent of the planks, blending with the dried sweaty odor in the car, I would breath in. I would be laying on the hard cushion facing the fierce Malaysian sun shining down through the windscreen on my youthful pimpled face. On the both sides of ears, Sunday Cantonese hits would blast through the speakers. And yes, their (most of the time) melancholic songs singing and babbling on the past and withering love would send me back to sleep. While dad swiftly changing the worn out gear, roaring the aging car onto driveway, heading into the city center, meeting god-knows-why-they-are-so-filthy-rich customers.

Drown in the saddening pop Cantos, I would, at the back, be respiring the sweat stink mixed with woody aroma, enjoying the sunbathing under the uncoated windshield while KL hot air blowing my hair, waiting for my lazy Sunday to be over.

Two years away from home, those nostalgic Sundays with emotional Eason Chan's never came. Not anymore I guess.