Splashing Syawal

Back from a relaxing 2-week long Raya break and straight into a hectic first week at work, LOL!

I utilised my break fully to re-connect – menyambung 'Silatulrahim'. The imam's ceramah after Raya prayer was inspiring. After a quiet, low-key Raya celebration, my mother and I visited 3 of our Haj roommates. One in Nakka (near Thai border) – her daughter's wedding where we ate authentic kampung dishes under a tent facing the paddy field. The other was our oldest roommate at 75 and her daughter in law in Kodiang (near Perlis). My parents and I spent a weekend in Hatyai. I loved the nasi lemak ayam and unique teh tarik served by a Muslim couple at a roadside stall near our hotel.

After that we took off for Penang and I had coffee with an old acquaintance whom I have not met for 5 years. Shocking revelations which I would share in another entry. I also met blogger Rad for the first time. We had lunch at the airport while waiting for my flight. Too many topics to talk about and not enough time, obviously. LOL!

Mr Designer fetched me from the Subang airport. He called to say he would be 30 minutes late but ended up being only 10 minutes behind. Luckily, I hadn't ordered a cup of coffee at one of the cozy cafes yet. I was so excited about my new job and revived by the fact that I didn't have to go back and face my immediate superior aka the idiot anymore that Mr Designer became the last thing on my mind. Yeah, I'd stopped missing him.

I only texted him once to inform details of my arrival, not even a Raya wish or anything. He agreed to have coffee but suddenly his ex-wife called and asked if he could fetch the kids. Her car broke down that morning and could not be repaired on time. I took it as a 'reminder' from God to forget about him. During our last outing in Ramadan, I told him flat out that I won't be outsourcing my new company's design jobs to him. I'd need a stable, reliable and tip-top supplier.

Unfortunately, the job interview he attended just before Raya didn't come through. He was quite sure that they had offered him a job and was going to revert with formality and details. He waived another job interview after that.

It struck me then how he had wasted his unemployed period and not go all out to look for a job. I had forwarded him suitable vacancies on Jobstreet and he kept on delaying creating an account that would enable him to apply online. I had also written him a sizzling reference letter. All he needed to do was sit in front of the computer long enough. He didn't even have the initiative to edit his CV as per my suggestion. I know ever since he wakes up at noon daily, his time was filled with his mother and sister's family activities and visiting his kids but... he doesn't work and he doesn't have to do housework, so...???

On Saturday, I had a nice dim sum lunch with an ex-colleague from the hotel. Dropped by at the main kitchen and caught the men in white at the end of their Chef's table. And then, delicious lamb and chicken briani dinner at my uncle's spacious bungalow. The kids ended up in the swimming pool.

On Sunday morning, I had an unpleasant surprise. A friend was supposed to have breakfast with me at La Bodega and shared useful contacts for my new job. But I arrived 5 minutes late finding that she had bumped into a Chinese family that she knew and expected us to sit at the same table. Excuse me, I didn't sign up for breakfast with strangers and time is precious.

I excused myself saying I needed to go upstairs and use the plug point. I finished breakfast and was online for an hour before she finally came up bringing this Chinese guy with her. She saw my comment on FB and tried to cover up with a lame excuse that she was introducing him to me as a contact. Wrong person too, he was the designer and didn't have a clue what the PR team did. She insincerely & discreetly apologised after that, and I said I've got to go, my parents were leaving for the airport. I got a window into her core character, reminding me that my first impression is always correct. That would be our last outing, for me at least.

I did a lot of preparation for my new job, especially in terms of dressing. Went on a shopping spree just the week before going back to my hometown. Bought jubah, blouses, long skirts, tudung, handbag, eye shadow palette and 5 pairs of shoes (before that I've only bought like 3 pairs in the last 4 years). I went back to my hometown and ordered 4 pairs of dark trousers from an old Chinaman tailor. Bought another 3 tudung CT from Pekan Rabu.

And during the weekend in Hatyai, I found the ideal briefcase, a black blouse, hair bands and eye liners. Finished that off with final shopping spree upon return to KL – foundation, powder, mascara, more eye shadows and blushers. Having to tie up my hair neatly in a bun also means new fashionable hair accessories – hairnets, hair clips and glittering hair combs to push my fringe back. Okay, that is a lot for someone who does not occasionally enjoys shopping, LOL!

What triggered that? First of all, the dress code requires the female employees to wear head scarves (of any type – includes transparent ones and selendang ). That means I have to choose my outfits carefully to match. And then, the HR clerk at my former company suddenly lashed out a long advice to me on dressing well. It seemed that the employees there were bitching about my dressing.

Sure, I had gotten uninspired, but their (gomen) definition of well-dressed is something else - “Baju dia serupa dengan baju aku ja...” Yeah, they expect a manager to wear a material of superior quality to the others, probably with those glittering artificial stones as well:p. She also stressed to me about making a strong first impression at my new work place and dressing well (to counter off the negative things my former colleagues have been spreading about me).

When I returned my office handphone on Friday last week, I found myself stepping into a pressure-cooker. The staffs were preparing for a politically-motivated outstation Raya event. My 2 former senior executives were roaming around like little Hitlers, power crazy and out of control. Apart from the mualaf, a senior clerk and an executive were brought in to replace me. Still no manager. Staff were being transfered without plan and customer service became short-handed again. The driver turned librarian was the main person in-charge. Several people wanted to talk to me 121 that I spent like 3 hours there. The best news of all - an external candidate was hired to fill in the post that the idiot had been eyeing all along, yeaaaa!!!!

Shall write about my first week at work in my next entry:)

Rahmat Ramadan

It's the 20th day of Ramadan. My search is finally over. On Friday last week I got a phone call on a great job offer from a Middle Eastern company. And instead of 3 months, I'm getting out with less than 2 weeks' notice. My future employer is paying for 2 months of my notice period and I still have 10.5 days of annual leave left. Which means my last day at work is Thursday next week and I won't be coming back after Raya. I've dreamed of leaving by Ramadan for so long that I couldn't believe that it would actually happen, especially at this late stage. It is fate. Alhamdullilah!

And the best thing is that they are offering me the exact salary that I requested for, much higher than my present job. In my new job scope, I will only be in charge of a section of PR, reporting to the head of PR. Yeah, not even a department head post. They are really paying a lot there. I am kind of nervous too, considering that they are also buying my notice period. Expectation is going to be really high with them investing so much in me. In comparison, here I had to oversee 2 departments at monkey salary (before my transfer*). And I didn't even know I have to handle customer service on top of PR until I got my appointment letter.

On Monday morning, I took half-day emergency leave and rushed like mad from 9am onwards to settle my medical check-up. The clinic was packed, it was Monday morning made worse with the H1N1 scare. I nearly had a hick-up with my eye test of all things. The woman was so 'kelam kabut' and I misread the letters, hence she concluded that my left eyesight was very bad. Hello, I just had a thorough check up and bought new glasses 3 weeks ago. Luckily, the doctor got another person to test after that and she said it was normal. I then collected my appointment letter and arrived at my office at 11.58am.

Shortly after, I was in the HR Manager's office. He was a bit surprised, despite knowing I was all geared to get out for so long. He asked me to re-write & attention it to the MD instead. I might as well get the HR exec to review first considering the company's strange practices. And then, I had to wait for an hour to see the MD. He was stunned when I handed him the resignation letter. He opened it in record time asking, "Pasai apa nak berhenti pulak ni?" I decided to keep my gripe for my exit interview, I just wanted to clear it asap. So, I just said, "I got a really good job offer." He asked 'Where?' but didn't pursue after that. Apart from having people waiting to see him outside, I think he knew that my future employer is unbeatable, he was from the same industry. So, it was quick. He said he noted my request for early release. Well, I'm not like some people, the muaalaf in particular, who used resignation as a stunt to seek attention. I take it very seriously.

This has happened really fast. I only attended my second interview with the Acting CEO and Head of HR the Friday before. I was dressed in a black jubah with a bit of white, a black jacket & my mother's tailor-made black tudung with a bit of beads. Yeah, a real tudung which covers all my hair. And that was the first time I have gotten new clothes for an interview, LOL!

I had taken care to dress extra carefully based on the feedback that I received from my first interview 2 Fridays before. That was conducted by the GM, Head of PR (my future boss) and a HR rep. I was dressed in black top and trousers, jacket and short peach tudung. The first one was tougher as the questions were general. It was informal too, I couldn't tell when the GM was kidding and when he was serious. The second was very much focused on expertise. Thank God.

From my previous interviews, I have learned to be relaxed as normally they don't expect you to know much about their industry (for an outsider). And none has conducted an interview as tough as I do. LOL! I have interviewed like almost 100 candidates here & hired only 2. That gave me a really good insight into HR and the hiring manager psyche.

My exit interview form was 4 pages long. HR people said I could really write, LOL! Normally, when employees give negative feedback, they would ask to re-think and re-consider. But in my case, they didn't. Even they agreed with me. I've said it all, clearly, an advantage of being a writer. LOL!

*Note on my transfer: I was transfered to business development on 10 August - yeah, the exact post where the GM tried to move me before but the MD refused to sign the letter. The transfer order letter sounded like a termination letter. There is a major re-structuring going on and many have been moved, some to suit their academic qualifications. Come on, some of us decided on a career path away from our Degree a long time ago.

The worst thing was that I still have to report to the same GM. Neither of us have expertise in this sub-area, which was really stupid. A few days later, a request came in and I had to handle the development of the industry blueprint. That would have been challenging except that a blueprint was already developed by a consultant 4 years ago but was never implemented due to the frequent change of management. In fact, the current MD is finishing his contract this November. So, it's hopeless. The only positive thing I can say about this whole exercise is I have my own spacious office upstairs and lots of privacy, LOL!

Rhythm!

Last Saturday, my editor/publisher gave his feedback on 5 of the 28 stories that I've submitted. He said mostly I need to work on my rhythm. Stories have rhythm too, just like songs. He suggested that I read the stories out loud and hear what they sound like. He also said that I'm self-censoring myself. Some stories have potential to become erotic, but I stopped it before it could go down that path, LOL! A good example is 'Counting Raindrops'.

One story, 'Water Warrior' was really off though. He said there were too many things there that I did not know eg bank robbery, smoking ganja, etc. Maybe I'll drop it for this round, I'm going to need a lot of time to re-write that. I shall rework it into 1 of my boarding school's unique culture stories for my next collection.

Meanwhile, I got a big surprise while attending an author's creative writing workshop on 9 August. I met Kak Teh for the first time! And she was sitting at the same table as myself, facing me too. A quick personal intro by this Malay woman in tudung made me think she was Kak Teh, and it turned out that I was right, hehe... Didn't expect her to be soft spoken though, her writer's voice is very crisp and strong.

We did a bit of freewriting during the session. Below is a story that I managed to churn out from the workshop, 1 of my Haj ones. Interestingly, I kicked start 'Hide and Seek', another Haj story, from a freewriting exercise during a creative writing workshop too. I guess my holy land pieces need special recall techniques to start off. They are kind of tough:)

Street Singers - 1st Cut

Orange light spreads across the sky. Sunrise. It is our second day on the holy land. My three roommates and I have just left the Al-Haram mosque. The crowd from the Subuh Jemaah prayers shuffles ahead of us. A pilgrim shoves my left shoulder, another one on my right. More and more people knock against my arms and my back as they rush to overtake us. I adjust my white Telekung and neatly tuck in the few strands of stray hair on my forehead.

Along the way, we saw Indian merchants busy opening their outlets. The men quickly roll up their front shutters to reveal colourful displays of goods. Road-side sellers have already laid their mats on the ground and started business. “Nasi kerabu, nasi lemak, mee goreng!” A woman in black robe and long Tudung with a white veil covering her lower face calls out to us. She is seated on a low stool. I glance at the familiar triangular packets of food in front of her. A Tabung Haji officer told us that Patani settlers often take advantage of the Haj season. This is the time of the year to make money from local delicacies that remind Malaysian pilgrims of their home.

Chanting resonates from afar. Its’ intriguing melody and crispness are haunting. The beautiful, high pitch voices seem to have risen from further up the street. It is accompanied by loud rhythmic clapping. The synchronised singing becomes louder and louder as we move along...

(more)

Red Water

After sending off my draft stories to my editor/publisher, I felt so light. So, I managed to do much more reading. I've also completed another one of my Turkey stories:)

Red Water - 1st Cut

(continues...)

He takes her straight to the thermal pool. They step up onto a low staircase and enter through the door. The scene before their eyes startles her. It feels like a whole different world altogether.

Rising steams make the walls seem hazy, causing the place to appear smaller than it actually is. Bubbles popping out of the hot reddish murky water makes the pool seem like a huge pot of boiling soup. Its rust-like mineral dregs remind her of a documentary of Planet Mars that she caught on National Geographic.

A Caucasian woman and child have just arrived. The little girl pulls off her top, puts on her bathing cap and slowly steps into the pool. Her mother follows suit.
“I come here a few times a week. My friend gives me a good rate.” He stresses again, in case she has forgotten. “Do you bring your… I don’t know what you call it, you know for swimming?”
“Swimsuit? No, I don’t.”
“Would like to come again? I can fetch you from your pension."

She thinks about it for a while. Obviously he is planning to swim too, to fully utilise the time he takes to drive her there. She squirms inside. Being in the narrow pool in the hot turbid water with an old man for company is too much for her to stomach...

(more)

Striking Gold

On Tuesday evening, I finally submitted my first draft of short stories to my editor/publisher. There are 27 stories altogether. From experience, it will take around 2 months until the book is published.

Only the day before, my co-author from our first book was shortlisted for an international award for her solo collection. That is great news. It gives a strong recognition to Malaysian literature. The award provides a solid platform for our publisher to stand and strike big deals from. He can now directly market his books internationally.

It is hard to believe that it was only 2 years ago when we worked on our first book together. I've seen how much she has improved. Of course, she started at a slightly higher level than the 2 of us; her language command is stronger. Nevertheless, her win is a boost to all. It proves that dreams are not too far away. I am so inspired, but also very nervous. I know my editor/publisher is going to come down even harder on us now, if that's possible. After years of patiently searching for hidden gems, he has struck gold, finally:)

Below is my latest boarding school tale. I've wanted to include a racial piece in my upcoming collection. I am so glad that it came, even at the 11th hour.

Colours - 1st Cut

(continues)

He pushes back the tip of his glasses and finally speaks. “Assalammulaikum.”
“Waalaikumsalam, Cikgu.”
“Before we start the session, why don't you introduce yourselves first? Let's start with you, Tok Batin.”

He gestured towards a plump and short boy seated next to him. His unusual choice of a nickname seems to fit as somehow the smart-looking lad does remind one of a village medicine man. We giggle quietly. The boy seems startled before regaining his composure and starts speaking confidently. “Assalammulaikum. I'm Nizam from Perak.” The teacher signals to the next person and we all take turn one by one.

Once we finished, he turns to the first boy again. “So, Tok Batin, tell us what made you choose this uniform?”

He looks puzzled.

“You are the only one here who is not dressed in light blue top and dark blue bottom. So, why? You like this colour?”
He looks down at his peach cotton shirt and dark brown pants. “Yes,” he grins.
“This is a good colour. It's a warm colour. Warm colours show courage.” He pauses for a while and turns to look at the rest of us. “Do you like blue?” He asks no one in particular. “Blue is a weak colour, it's the Malays' favourite colour. Blue and green. Chinese likes warm colours, red, orange and yellow.”

He points to my lap. “Even your file is blue.” He chuckles.

(more)

Commuter Tales 2

My low blood sugar experience on the way to work yesterday morning triggered another story. So this morning, I completed 1 more commuter tale. It's much longer than the rest though, at 1200 words.

Sugar - 1st Cut

As the door of the train opens, she pushes her way between two rows of passengers to reach the deeper part of the compartment. People are leaning along the walls, there is no more empty space. She has to make do standing in the centre. She puts her bag down, against the side of her leg. She looks for the plastic holder hanging from the metal rail near the ceiling. To her surprise, the was none, they have been removed.

She grumbles silently and puts her palm against the wall to steady herself while the train takes off. It is difficult to maintain balance without actually holding on to anything. At times, her hand accidentally hits the book that the woman opposite of her is reading. She wishes she could trade spot with her and comfortably lean against the wall, peacefully enjoying the short story collection in her bag.

Even the metallic connecting floor is fully occupied that morning. Normally, that is the least favourite spot. Every time the train turns, the floor moves to the left and the right, making one standing on top feel giddy.

Her hand felt stretched. Tired, she releases her palm from the wall. She takes a deep breath. The route is a bit longer from KL Sentral to Pasar Seni; this is where the train suddenly speeds up, almost making her lose her footing....

(more)

Commuter Tales

Somehow, lately, I've started writing very short stories inspired from my daily experience of using the public transportation system. This range from LRT and monorail to commuter and transit train. I'm talking about between 350 to 800 words here, or the new term for it is flash fiction. Maybe one day, I'll have a separate collection of these. Right now, I think it's sufficient to include them in my general collection. That is subject to what my instructor has to say about it though. He has not read any of it.

An excerpt from my 5th commuter story which I wrote this morning:

Beads - 1st Cut

When the LRT train stops at Dang Wangi station, a young woman steps in. She carries a black plastic folder under her arm and a brown leather handbag on her shoulder. A crisp two-piece dark blue suit, matching light blue blouse and black pumps show that she has taken care to dress well. A long string of brown beads complete her attire. When she moves, the necklace colour changes from orange and amber to maroon and dark brown.

She notices the empty seat near the connecting part of the train. She tugs her skirt neatly before carefully sitting down. The folder and handbag rest on her lap. The woman beside her gets up at the next station. The seat is not taken after that. Suddenly, a loud popping sound is heard, once, twice, three times. It resembles pieces of marbles tumbling down onto a large wooden floor. The sound is heard once more before the woman realises the source. One by one, her brown beads drop onto the empty plastic seat before rolling down onto the floor.

She touches her necklace, only half of it is still hanging around her neck. A look of surprise spreads across her face....

(more)

Revisiting & Reuniting

Last week when I dropped by at my publisher's place, he asked if I would be interested to read through a collection of short stories' drafts submitted by my co-author & comment on the logic, as well as language. Yeah, he beat me to it, so it looks like I would the last to publish my solo book, among the three of us. LOL!

I had to attend a dry 2-day course so I brought the drafts along. I actually finished reading & commenting on all his 20 stories in 2 days. I have to say that his type of stories are not in the local market yet. He had found his niche - surreal/fantasy element mixed with another element eg relationship, crime, etc. However, this batch is not as gripping and shocking as his previously published bunch. Nevertheless, I think they would appeal to a wider group of readers, and not upset so many people. LOL!

As for me, I am nearly done with my first drafts. I have 22 complete stories, these are enough & they meet the minimum number of words given by my publisher at 60,000. However, I would like to squeeze in at least 2 more because these are different ie Hide & Seek and The Kid.

Fate also had it that I reunited with a friend from boarding school whom I have not met in 20 years. He had a solo exhibition recently, his third. He paints as part of a therapy for his schizoprenic and bipolar disorder. Coincidentally, his favourite painting matches the title of one of my stories - Hide & Seek. I requested to use it for my book cover and he agreed. He wants royalty should I sell more than 100,000 copies though, LOL! Later on, my publisher advised me to go for a more abstract piece. I found a simple but yet distinct one using the 3 primary colours only. Mr Designer is working on the cover design right now. I can't wait to see it.

The story below is not part of the last 2, I am still not sure of it. I first started writing it around 2 years ago, during Raya holiday. Those who follow my blog would know who inspired it. I had a problem continuing it though. I only picked it up around 2 weeks ago and re-wrote it completely. The cotton castle of Pamukkale, Turkey had inspired the background of this fantasy world. Yeah, it had turned into something else. No more a simple alien-psychology story. I didn't plan for it to be a romance - fantasy/sci-fi - psychology piece, but it became that way, LOL! It may still not have the element of a romance, who knows, I still have a long way to go:)



A Liar's Brain - 2nd Cut

Today is the last day I am allowed to walk around on my own. Tomorrow, I will become someone’s wife. The realisation hits me, as much as I try to ignore it. Nervousness, fear, doubt and all sorts of feelings force its way into my mind.

“The stranger whom you will marry is due to arrive soon.” That’s what The Hat announced during the people’s assembly last week. The human has been identified from a foreign land and will be brought here to enrich our community. As curious as I am, I dare not question his decision. He has led our land for many centuries, he knows best.

I use a plastic basin to scoop the chalky mineral water and pour it onto my Hat. After repeating it a few times and ensure that I have covered my whole body, I lay in the deep and narrow calcium pot for a while. The top comes up to my shoulders. The snowy sand stretching for miles and miles away was breathtaking. Ivory mountains wave at me. The equally white trees dance around me. “Good morning,” I shout out to them and laugh when my voice echoes back at me.

I squeeze out some fragrant algae powder and shampoo my hair. I reach for another container and pour out some star fish powder. I use it to scrub my body. Several more scoops of chalky water and I am done. I climb out of the pot and sit on the sand, allowing the cool breeze to dry my body. I run the tortoise comb along my hair. Being early means that I have the whole bath to myself. And I love the calmness of the dawn, it is so quiet.

I wonder what my husband to be is like. I shall find out soon. The Hat had asked me to be at the People's Hall to welcome him when he gets here later.

(more)

Awful, Awful April

I've put off writing this entry for a while. April had been a really tough month for me, work wise and personally. Gosh, even in 2007, Ad 'died' in April.

On 23 April, I had another episode with Mr Designer, quite a definite one. I came close to not seeing the RM3,000 that I lended him (short-term for 3 weeks only). And if that is what it cost to get over him, it might just be worth it. He claimed that a relationship would ruin our friendship. I beg to differ, I think money would ruin it instead. On the other hand, I'm also doing copywriting for his business and the fee is quite substantial as compared to the little time spent, though payment can be late.

He said if we are friends, we can be friends forever. He did care about me, a lot, and he'd help me in any way that he could. Relationships, on the other hand, burn bridges. And under pressure on 7 April, he finally blurted out that there were other women pursuing him too, and clueless on what to do, he gave them the same answer that he gave me. That hurt like hell. Furthermore, I have to finish off the copywriting on a brochure for his business that same night, I stayed up till 2.00am. Anger nearly caused me to throw it back in his face, deadline or no deadline.

On his 41st birthday on 11 April, I only gave him a greeting card, through his partner. They were attending his late father's tahlil, which his mother had combined with his birthday. My words were deep though. I reckoned that if he meets the right woman, he'll open up his heart again. And he hadn't yet. Anyway, I'm too tired to share all the details here, and I think readers are also tired of reading about him & how I still have a soft spot for him, despite everything. Probably, I should open a new blog, LOL!

Now on work:
On Friday, 17 April, on the LRT back from work, I had a call from a stranger. It was past 8pm and I was damn tired. At first, I thought it was a supplier, then he started giving a 'ceramah' and I thought it was a salesman and naturally, I cut him off, asking him to get straight to the point. He said he didn't like me pressuring his wife, yeah, just like who the hell are you!!

It was my staff's husband. He said he was taking his family to the mosque and I shouldn't be calling his wife after office hour. Furthermore, she is a Mualaf, he had to guide her. Hello, his wife left the office without meeting a work deadline. Not to mention, she had been avoiding the tasks delegated to her in a new role, she wasn't doing well in her former role either. His wife claimed that I was rude to her. The thing is that before he told me, I didn't know his wife had a problem with me specifically, though she always complained about the workload.

Her husband threatened to complain to the MD. Hence, I had to alert him, and my MD finally returned my call at 10.00pm. He was calm, and he took it easily though. Luckily, I decided to meet up with an ex-collague, whom the Muaalaf sabotaged from moving to my department. She was the one who asked me to call my MD. I also made like 10 calls to the Human Resource Manager that night. The incidence was kind of terrifying, it had me shaken. I spent the whole Saturday pouring out to the sensible woman at my publisher's place. I was kind of trembling until Monday.

On Monday, 20 April, I lodge a report with the HR Manager on harrasment and threat. He asked me to consult the legal head, which I did. The woman amended my letter, stressed on how my staff was not cooperating to achieve the department KPI and the company's. But her advice is to let HR take care of it, and the best way was to push my staff to another department. How was she going to work? I assigned work to her through email every morning and made her come up to my office before leaving. That was torturous enough, I think. This was the same woman who betrayed me before, and I shouldn't have given her a second chance.

On Wednesday, 22 April, HR interviewed my staff on the incidence. The next morning, she tendered her resignation. That same afternoon,HR interviewed me on the incidence. At first I thought they pressure her into leaving. But that couldn't be, it was conducted neutrally. So, perhaps she was embarassed. I thought that was the end of it, but I was so wrong.

On Friday, 24 April, my other senior staff threw a tantrum and walked out at 5.00pm (office hour is until 5.30pm). Why, because I made him re-write a proposal 5 times. Well, he is really careless with writing. Regardless of how productive he is and how fast he moves, in PR, writing is no 1. I extended his probation because of that, and because of insubordination which I stated clearly in his appraisal form. Also, he missed a handover meeting before I left for my long Turkey holiday, and he immediately went off for a week holiday without a handover. He also tend to ignore my phone calls when he is out. Plus, he had a habit of going straight to Popeye and vice versa, and I couldn't do quality control.

Anyway, he returned to the office an hour later, all emotional, saying that I purposely 'nak kenakan dia'. None of his four female ex-bosses had extended his probation before. Well, I'm honoured to be the first. LOL! He rambled on and on like a woman, half apologising and half egoistic about the whole thing. He said I can cold-storage him but I cannot fire him immediately.

Hmm, I tried to explain to him that extending probabation didn't mean you want to get rid of someone, it just to give staff a chance to improve. From where I come from, it is something very common, even for a mere reason like my English wasn't up to it. I actually hired a tutor to help me. I didn't throw tantrum to any of my all-female bosses. He also blamed me for not being able to fill up the vacancies in my department quickly.

I met HR Manager but due to the current 'political scenario', he cautioned me against giving my staff a warning letter. Well, the week after, I think the outburst sort of made him nervous, and more cautious. I now have one point against him, and I can report him anytime.

And concluding April, Popeye, my idiot immediate boss, suddenly decided to conduct my appraisal on the 27th. I knew he was up to something. It was 17 months after I came onboard, and 11 months too late. I heard that he wanted to extend my probation many months ago, but my MD refused to sign the letter due to the personal nature of his remarks. Luckily, he had HR manager and executive in the room, so I took the opportunity to fire him directly and later, put my counter attacks to his remarks in black and white.

He threatened to relocate me, saying that I couldn't handle my staff. When asked, he said he'd create another position under him, but I won't have to supervise people. To cut a long story short, I dared tell him he couldn't do certain things at whim. It was easy because he didn't follow the proper procedure. He would have been able to get rid of me already if he had.

And last but not least, the Muaalaf retracted her resignation a week later. Air head! I had over-estimated her. To date, there is still no black and white from the MD to accept it.

Onion on the Wall

I haven't had time to update on the consecutive blows that I faced during the last 3 weeks. Emotional outbursts at work where they don't belong plus the lack of emotion in my personal life where I could use some... hmm... a trying month indeed.

And I had just returned from my school reunion in Perak a few hours ago. There's more to that too.

In this entry, I just want to quickly share an excerpt from a short story that I started during my 3-day corporate video course on Wednesday. This experimental piece combines romance, supernatural and violence.


Onion on the Wall - 1st cut

The clock is unlike any that she has seen before. Resembling a two-dimensioned onion, it hangs flat on the wall at the outer front of the cafe. Its' body had been meticulously crafted from thin sheets of brightly coloured metals; these unfold horizontally like a rainbow. At its' centre, two tiny white arms spread out to 2.30pm.

Rose takes a deep breath and tugs her feet underneath the rough wooden carved table. Despite the drizzle, she chose a spot outside. She sits back on the stool and leans against the big damp tree trunk behind her. Her flip flops lay apart on the wet earthen floor. She flips Murakami's 'At Night' novel in her hands several times before putting it down again.

“Hello.” The cheerful voice belongs to a petite waitress. She hands over a square orange menu. “What do you want to order?” She reads the first line. “Just some Hot lemongrass tea, please.” The girl takes the menu and walks off. 10 minutes later, she returns with a full tray. “Thanks,” she stares at the beverage. The big glass plunger carries enough cloudy lime green liquid to fill up at least five cups. Somehow, it reminds him of the moss that grows at the side of the lake. She pulls the holder up and pour a bit into the small red cup. Her fingers shiver slightly.

She looks up at the clock. It is 2.55pm. She wipes the trickles of water on her brows and nose. It was raining heavily when she left the gallery 15 minutes ago. Funnily, it was her third time down the lane and she had never noticed the tiny cafe before. While her hair, clothes and flip flops are drenching wet from the rain, her cheeks are equally wet from tears. After going back and fro three times, she decides to stop by. The first thing that caught her attention was the onion clock.

As she sips her tea, she wonders where Zack is at that moment. He has asked her not to worry, assured her repeatedly that he has everything under control. She doubts it. She knows that he has not received the payment for his last job yet. Even if he had, it was far from enough. There is nothing else she can do. She had dug deep into all her bank accounts and scrapped the last bits of her savings...

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