Hafiz Safwan Thought That...

A thought of my self.."Be civil to all; sociable to many; familiar with few; friend to one; enemy to none." Benjamin Franklin

Pages

Menjaga Hati


MENJAGA HATI


Yovie & The Nuno - Menjaga Hati

masih tertinggal bayanganmu
yang telah membekas di relung hatiku
hujan tanpa henti seolah pertanda
cinta tak di sini lagi
kau tlah berpaling

reff:
biarkan aku menjaga perasaan ini, ohh
menjaga segenap cinta yang telah kau beri
engkau pergi, aku takkan pergi
kau menjauh, aku takkan jauh
sebenarnya diriku masih mengharapkanmu

masih adakah cahaya rindumu
yang dulu selalu cerminkan hatimu
aku takkan bisa menghapus dirimu
meski ku lihat kini
kau di seberang sana

repeat reff

andai akhirnya
kau tak juga kembali
aku tetap sendiri
menjaga hati

repeat reff [3x]

sejujurnya diriku masih mengharapkanmu

Read This - DAVID LAVOIE: Men and the toys they simply must have

From Sunday NST (8/6/08)

DAVID LAVOIE: Men and the toys they simply must have
by: DAVID LAVOIE
I SOMETIMES chuckle when I remember a bumper sticker I saw in North America years ago. It read: "Whoever dies with the most toys, wins." It was an ironic comment on the perennial male fascination with things mechanical; a fact that has been known to cause women to roll their eyes in resignation and mutter: "Boys will be boys."

Now, I'm just a boy. No, scratch that... I'm a really old kid who still loves toys.

I can't resist neat stuff, even at my advanced age. It's that guy thing.

I was in a shopping plaza last week and passed a stand where a young man was demonstrating toy helicopters.
I mean they hover, they swoop, they dart, they fly, they sneak up on pretty girls and scare the daylights out of them. What guy could resist them?

My wife, of course, was not impressed. She goes to shopping malls to try on shoes. My three daughters all do the same thing. It's like women have this extra gene; the shoe gene.

Well, guys have an extra gene too, one that draws them towards things they can fool around with.

Carefully explaining to my wife that it was for my grandson, I bought a helicopter, all the time hoping that she would not notice that the box clearly indicated that the little flying beauty was not suitable for any child under 14. My grandson is 2.

I, on the other hand, am over 14. I got away with it because she was so charmed by the vision of me and my grandson spending quality time together, bonding.

The thing about these helicopters, I've learned, is that they are not easy to fly. You need a large open area to practise.

So I waited until my wife was out before sneaking the helicopter down to the tennis courts beside our condominium. As soon as I had my new toy buzzing about merrily, I realised that I had an audience.

Two of the maintenance staff, men of course, were watching in open-mouthed delight; a security guard showed up and joined them.

On a nearby tiled roof, three men were doing some repairs. They stopped to applaud with glee. Delight in toys is a universal guy thing.

It was a sneaky trick, pretending that I was buying it for my grandson when I really wanted to play with it myself, but it is not like there isn't a precedent in my own life.

When I was 5, my father announced at the dinner table one night that he was building a model train set for me. It was to be large and built completely to scale.

Two Lionel Trains powered by electricity, but otherwise accurate in every detail, would whiz about, crossing bridges, barrelling through tunnels, chugging past lakes made of mirrors and pulling into a tiny station in a miniature village where little model people would be waiting to board them.

On the big day of the unveiling, I found out the ugly truth. It wasn't really my train set at all. It was my dad's.

I was invited to sit quietly on a chair and watch him play with it. There it was, the neatest toy I had ever seen, and I couldn't touch it. I vowed that day that when I was all grown up, I'd have my own toys.

Guys buy toys that aren't sold as toys, but they really are. I remember talking to a colleague of mine back in Canada.

She was in despair because her husband had purchased a kind of multi-purpose all-terrain vehicle for their country home.

It was powerful enough to manoeuvre along difficult, hilly forest paths but also had various attachments to dig holes, push dirt around and drag heavy stuff along behind it.

Her pastoral peace was being disturbed by this contraption, she sighed. But what was worse, she absolutely could not understand her husband's fascination with this new toy of his.

"Fran," I said. "It goes fast, runs on gasoline, makes a lot of noise and digs holes in the dirt. Any guy would love it! What's not to understand?"

When the boys are richer, their toys are more sophisticated. Instead of little helicopters, they buy red Porsche convertibles, ultra-fast laptops, sound systems capable of cranking out enough decibels to fill a dance hall, and yet another set of ultra expensive golf clubs. But toys they will have. Boys will be boys.

Back to the helicopter. I did something stupid. I decided to try it out inside just to see if I could make it hover motionlessly.

Blades whirring, it climbed, hung in the air for a second, veered off in a rapid swoop, crashed into a wall, bounced back, wobbled, and then dove straight into my wife's favourite house plant.

Shredded leaves, flower petals and bits of branch exploded upward until the exhausted little machine groaned and died.

I swept up the shredded plant before my wife got back home and took the helicopter back to the vendor for repairs.

He chuckled. "Had a crash, did you?" he asked. In about an hour he had the helicopter working again and I was heading gratefully out of the store when I saw it.

Its fuselage was a gleaming cobalt blue, the undercarriage was reinforced to protect it from hard landings, the battery pack was twice as big as mine so that it could fly longer. The vendor grinned slyly. "It's the latest model," he said.

So now this is my problem. How am I going to explain to my wife why I now have two toy helicopters? And worse, what am I going to say when she sees the house plant?

David Lavoie is a retired Canadian teacher who has made his home in Malaysia for the past four years

Mechanical thing fascinates men..hahaha..big boys toys...the toys are also getting bigger i.e real cars compared to models before..

I'm eyeing on one RC helicopter...huhuhu..tapi duit takdak lagi

TAYAR BAS MELETUP - KeNduri Bibik Aida @ Rumah Alumni UTM SKudai (25/05/08)

Ingatkan nak menulis pasal cerita nih sebaik sahaja pulang dari JB. Namun, disebabkan kekurangan masa dan kekangan lain terpaksa ditangguhkan sehingga ke hari ini.

Asalnya satu family nak pi ke Johor. Yang nak kawen nih sepupu mak aku (tapi umur dia sebaya ngan aku)..aku panggil dia BIBIK (bermaksud makcik dalam bahasa Jawa..bukan orang gaji tau). Embah Diso (Ngadiso bin Darus, ayah pengantin perempuan) yang menjaga aku waktu aku belajar di UTM dulu.

2-3 hari lagi sebelum kenduri, parents aku membuat keputusan untuk tidak hadir(rumah tgh. renovate) dan aku dihantar untuk menjadi wakil. Wakil bukan sahaja untuk kelaurga aku tetapi jugak untuk keluarga saudara2 dari Penang. Mulanya tiada tiket bas pada malam Khamis(23/5/08) untuk ke JB. orang kat kaunter tu siap cakap 26 hb baru ada tiket balik.. Tiba2 malam khamis tu, masa antar adik aku Hilmi (dia ke Banting ada kenduri rakan dia), ada pula tiket tapi malam Jumaat (24/5/08). Aku terus amik lepas berbincang dengan parents aku.

Malam yang dijanjikan, kalau ikut tiket bas jalan pukul 10.30, tapi bas tu sampai Nibong Tebal pun dah pukul 11.20. PERSADA EKSPRESS (nama yang tertera di tepi bas) merupakan bas yang bakal membawa aku ke destinasi(JB) tapi tiba-tiba terdetik "Boleh sampai ke?"...Aku terus pujuk hati aku yang enggan percaya bahawa bas dihadapan mata aku ini mampu sampai dengan selamat tanpa sebarang insiden. Keadaan bas agak uzur. Layaknya hanya untuk ganti bas Bumiwira(Butterworth-Parit Buntar) saja gayanya.

Bas itu kemudian ke Parit Buntar untuk mengambil penumpang dan meneruskan perjalanan pada jam 12 tgh malam. Aku terlena sehingga jam 3.30 pagi ketika bas mula memasuki Kuala Lumpur. Ketika berhenti sebentar di Serdang(untuk tukar pemandu), aku turun untuk ke tandas. Apabila bas tu nak teruskan perjalanan, brek tayar belakang belah kanan lekat. Bas tu mulanya tak leh jalan tapi lepas cuba berkali2 baru boleh. tapi brek tu masih lekat. Aku cakap kat pemandu "Apek, kalau you jalan jugak, tayar boleh meletup oooo!", dia jawab "Takpa, takpa...slow saja boleh,"

Hati aku mula risau. Tepat jangkaan aku, sebelum sampai hentian sebelah Nilai, bau hangit memenuhi ruang penumpang. Apabila bas berhenti barulah tau apa masalahnya. Brek yang lekat tadi sudah berasap. Bila asap dah takder, bas tu masuk ke hentian Nilai dan mula memindahkan penumpang ke bas2 lain yang dalam perjalanan ke Johor Bahru. 2 penumpang di pindahkan semasa di hentian Nilai.

Driver bas tu taknak tunggu lama2, dia kata nak terus sampai ke Yong Peng sebab ada banyak bas2 lain yang ke JB berhenti di situ. Sekali lagi aku cakap kat apek tu "Apek, boleh sampai Yong Peng ka?" dia jawab "Boleh, takpa...slow2,"

Banyak la dia punya slow, awal2 memang slow laa..bila dah naik syeh dia tekan jugak sampai 60-70 km.

Masa tu aku dah tak boleh tidoq dah. Risau takut tayar meletup atau yang paling buruk tayar terbakar. Aku amik peluang ni untuk bersembang ngan sorang penumpang kat depan aku. Orang Baling yang terpaksa pulang ke JB serta-merta kerana dipanggil bertugas meskipun tgh bercuti kerana isteri bersalin. Inspektor Haris dari Depoh Polis Johor Bahru.

Seperti yang aku jangkakan, tayar bas meletup sebelum plaza tol Seremban. Tapi bas terus bergerak sehingga tinggal lebih kurang 200m dari Plaza Tol Seremban tuh. Jam ketika itu menunjukkan waktu 4.40 pagi.

Driver bas berusaha tahan bas2 yang lalu kat situ, tapi takdak satu pun yang nak ke JB atau sanggup berhenti. Lebih kurang jam 7.20 pg barulah driver tu amik keputusan untuk jalan slow2 ke Terminal One Seremban dan uruskan pengangkutan lain untuk ke JB.

Sampai di Terminal One, kami penumpang bas nih ramai2 makan kat ada warung tuh..siap berebut2 nak belanja makan. Tak kira cina, india atau melayu semua boleh makan, melawak, bersembang walaupun tak pernah kenal sebelum nih. Memang best lah.

Aku sampai Skudai jam 1.30 tengah hari dan terus ke Rumah Alumni.
Sampai di Rumah Alumni, aku kena kutuk ngan geng2 KL (Family Embah Rasiman) sebab tak mandi lagi...Ciss..(hehehe)

Aku bawak kamera tapi takdak bateri, kat Terminal One baru aku beli sepasang untuk capture gambaq2 mangsa Tayar Bas Meletup.

Thanks a lot to Insp. Haris for the cigarattes and hacks. Nice to meet u SIR!
Anas Hassan(my cousin) for allowing me to use his room at 10th College, UTM for quick change.
A Malaysian Chinese man who paid for my Teh Tarik at Terminal One.
The Bus Drivers - Bought us Plusliner Ticket (Seremban-JB)
Embah Diso - nanti Safwan datang lagi.

Payah la nak lupa...2 tahun aku belajar kat UTM..2 tahun naik bas dari Butterworth ke JB tanpa sebarang masalah...tapi tiba2 perjalanan biasa 7 jam namun perjalanan baru2 nih mencipta rekod baru iaitu 13 Jam. huahahaha


SOme photos:



Bersama-sama penumpang lain yang terkandas@ Terminal One Seremban




Bersama Insp. Haris




Kanak2 ini dihadapan ku





Comel lah budak nih.







Ngan Insp. Haris di Terminal One




Sebelum naik Bas



Di dalam Bas





Uncle nih ngan family nak ke Jordan ikut airport Changgi.




This Malaysian Chinese guy was seated next to me.

Geng KL (Embah Rasiman sekeluarga)



Ain ngan ayahandanya, Paman Hussein




Bik Aida dan Suaminya, Ahmad Zuhair


Berjaya memalukan diri sendiri dengan berkaraoke lagu Suratan @ Kebetulan (Kenny, Remy & Martin)



Cantik pelamin nih kan???


Sebelum balik..bergambar dengan pengantin


Aku pulang ke Nibong Tebal pada malam itu juga..tiket bas kui 10.15 kat Sri Putri. Sampai Nibong Tebal kui 6 Pagi. Pengalaman pahit manis sepanjang perjalanan...

Mencatat rekod baru bagi perjalanan Bas Ekspress melebihi 12 Jam (rekod Baru 13 Jam 20 Minit)

Rekod berada di tempat tak sampai 12 jam lepas tu balik (bagi perjalanan memelbihi 7 jam)
(rekod baru 8 jam)
Related Posts Widget for Blogs by LinkWithin