A Great Wedding

Okay, this time I'm not gonna blabber that long- as usual. It's just that I remembered a wedding during the month of December last year. (2013) It was indeed the last function I had attended. Sad isn't it? Yeah, I know. The wedding was a merry one. Big hall, the bride and groom were perfectly dress and it's like a perfect wedding. Apart from 'looking' like one, it isn't that perfect in reality after all. Well, the main question that kept on lingering in my head is that; What is a marriage (Note that I didn't use the word 'wedding') when not a single fraternal of the same flesh and blood as yours could attend it?

It was a heart-rending night for the married couple. For everyone, really. Just FYI it's the status problem. The guy is rich. The girl is poor. And the man's parents felt despicable and a little humiliated, so they objected the event. These couple had been in love since young- since they were both 16, so the guy thought the decision he is making is the best for everyone. It was a great wedding. The food- gosh! It's Arabic cuisine! It was my first time having those meals and it was splendid great. The spices and flavours just blend together for a terrific dinner! Even the desserts- the blueberry tarts went well with the Arabic tea. At that moment I didn't really care about gaining weight or looking like a troll that just went on and stuffed in food in her full mouth. It was just something you want to eat more, and I was glad that the aromatic tea was not Turkish coffee. Have you tried one? Don't. You. Ever.

Real pretty flowers decorated the hall room- it made a garden theme wedding. What more could you ask?

Fraternal and friends, family and acquaintances, it was a great getting together ceremony. There's a karaoke session in the end, which Dad took part in and at least, he enjoyed it. There were us, three sisters wearing sparkled Punjabi Suit, stealing every eye in the room. I was anxious, with tons of homework piling in my mind- not one touched. So I took my Physics with me, glad that at last, I 'touched' it- and was shot to death that a picture of me scanning the questions were snapped by my uncle- photographer of the night.

My youngest and the most naughtiest one is not in the pic:) 

There he is!

The couples were happy. The bride's dress was all sparkle and the glitters made it looked so magical. Her make up was thin. Rosy cheeks. Broad smiled and happiness shone on her face. All of the guests attended prayed for the newly wed's happiness. It was heart touching. In the end I picked beautiful pink flowers and brought home. My siblings copycatted me. It was not something you can describe as stealing, the wedding organizer allowed us to do so. I can't bear to watch the pretty creatures wilting. So we took them and they're safe, in a jar of coloured pebbles. It's a great night we had. After all, I'm going to face my last year of school. I can't bear leaving home and my ohana to start a new life ahead. It's just hard. But the days will come when the flowers will wilt and my journey of childhood will end, and when that time comes, neither of us will wait. I'll face them with strength and courage.

A Comic Fiesta Story.

"Come with me?" 

I shook my head. It was not the first time I disappoint her, my best friend. The same question was played for several times in like three years. So, this time I agreed with a former classmate to attend the fiesta. Not just another or any other fiesta. It's a - wait for it- COMIC FIESTA. Thrilled? Well truth be told, I was not that excited. In fact, the only anime (Japan cartoons) I catch up with for ages would be Doraemon. The robotic cat with a powerful multipurpose pocket on his belly.

Why am I dragged into this situation again? Well, apparently my friends are anime fans who carry pencils and drawing blocks all along their journeys. What do you expect? They have their own Deviant Art account- the place where those with the apt of playing-with-art join and share their talents. Sometimes I will get envy of my mates as they draw comic strips of their own characters and chatter about it as they run into each other. I learnt how to draw too. The eyes. The hair. The side look and so on. I love art. I saw this awesome quote; it went like this:

True, uh? Indeed it is. So, I ran downstairs and had to confront my parents again. No big cash was involved, ouh it was the all-poor-economy-week for my family so Mom said yes.

High school...could it be worse?

A year. That's all what it takes to completely change my life. Was it a mistake? or was it the right choice for me to get transferred to a fully residential school far away from a place called home?

That was when it all started. I was invisibly stamped on my forehead as a total stranger to the former Form 4 students there, I slept on books countless time (- worst, I'd slept with my face turned straight to the Biology teacher in front of the whole class!), got bad grades for Additional Maths that made the Chinese teacher grumbled every time she saw me, fell flat on my face (-twice!) in front of the juniors right after I took the wudhu' (ablution) at mosque, appointed as the Dormitory Chief and suffered because I was basically the one who must do all the cleaning and face the poor hygiene level in the dormitory.I tried to finish my homework in time (-and failed at times) and the teachers especially my class teacher and our PE coach think of me as a useless and up-to-no-good lazy bum.



I was chosen to be the vice president for the hockey club (-I can't even play hockey!) and a player in the club looked like she is just waiting to make me a great laughingstock. No wait, adding up the fact that I was surrounded by haters who would give anything to see me fall and rip my heart out, shredding them to (-okay, that part was a little exaggerating!) -they scribbled the word biatch (you know what I mean) on my desk and smeared blank ink on the pictures of me. I don't get it. They probably had nothing better to do in life that kept them running, chasing and scratching everyone's hearts. I seemed to have no real friends. People went up to me to dig something important, or when it's English and they couldn't understand the assignment or when the exam is near. What is this life?

The bright side? Well, staying up late at night until juniors, seniors and my Form 4 mates assumed me as a nerd but decided to call me "Genius" for my just on A- border results. I got two teachers- English and History who just love me that got the envy eyes booed 'teacher's pet' at me throughout the lesson. A young at heart Biology teacher actually picked me and two school's popular boys to attend a workshop for something like the 'Young Doctors' club and yeah, I need to run the club with them next year. Well, getting picked up is important because the ones basically and usually get picked are the former Form 4 students. Newbies like me are clueless and do not get even the slightest chance to be noticed. They, the 'old' students- as I prefer calling them swipe away chances like they are the titans who are waiting to devour the weaklings. It's obvious that I got quite good juniors I can hang up with and some peers to spend time with. And at last, I am one of the top 5 students in the batch and heck yeah, I actually scored A- for Additional Mathematics.

So, I concluded something. Some walks are meant to be taken alone. And I am not afraid to walk alone in a crowd of wrong directions. I know my path. One year almost passed and then I could grab that senior title. I got a big examination coming in my way in 2014. I will fight and stay strong. Even if it means I have to do it alone. Why be afraid? You'll end up being alone in darkness, anyway. But hey, HE is always there - close to you. Indeed HE is the best of Planner.