Ramlal and Pogo

Time check: 3:38am.

Just finished my itinerary for later’s trip. Instead of sleeping, I need to finish my essay draft submission. Bummer.

BUT FIRST! I HAVE TO LET THIS OUT. HERE.

Watched Dilwale with the cousin just now. It was AH.MAY.ZING.

The song, the plot, the cheesy-ness, the errthang. Nothing short of amazing. I’ve said amazing thrice (including this, go watch people!)

Certain scenes were just too (funny kinda) corny that if you’ve watched Hindi movies since you were young, you kinda know what to expect and when it really happens, as the actors were really saying what went through your mind, trust me, you mouth will just say, “Oh my gawddd,” out loud (and facepalm while you’re at it).

But, oh, I have to say this. The action scenes is WON.DAH.FUL. The sound effect, fuuuuh, don’t bother comparing against American or English action pack movies genre. The Indians know they’re sound effects.

This is also the few movies with good moral values in a long while. Y’know, not just good girl likes bad guy and bad guy likes bad girl and oops! popcorn & movie finito. Think Frozen, but better.

The downside of Hindi movie is…. it’s veryyyy long.

After 154 minutes of Diwale, my cousin and I went for quick Winter Wonderland at Hyde Park for an evening walk and quick Boxing Day looksee, more like to wash off the realness of the movie in us. Y’feel me? But when we got back, we sat for another Hindi movie. Bahahaha.

Within the first two minutes of the 3 hour movie (YES, 3 HOURS!), the first song started and my cousin went, “Aik!? Just started and there’s already a song?”

2 Hindi movies in 1 day. That’s half a Suit season okay!?

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So much love for Ramlal and Pogo combo. (Gotta watch to know what I mean.)

I’ve tried reading children stories to my nieces and nephews and also had a public-read-a-loud session when I was in Primary School. Clearly my voice is one of my strength. (Euphemism for chatterbox).

But after reading the story to the kiddos, my cousin told me I suck. DURING the public-read-a-loud session, the teacher in charge kept coming to the stage to slow me down and correct me.

SO! This clearly shows how baaaaad I am at telling people stories from books. I’m adding movies to this list. Self-awareness guys. I’m growing up aren’t I? Teehee.

I hope this post won’t deter you from watching this movie (cause I’m so watching this again! Gonna wait for Blu-Ray, hehe.)

Till the next post, I’ll leave you two good songs from the movie.

Grateful

This post is dedicated to one person who made it possible.

You see, like any girls, who love clothes, I do too. Too often, when one part fits, the other doesn’t. E.g, when it fits nicely on the shoulder, it gets stuck at the hip. No shame there, just extra work need to be done. Which is why I like to get my clothes tailored.

You can find me living in my favourite sleeveless tops (from normal street shops, nothing fancy) with cardigans or sweater over it. Because of this, long story short, I live in my sleeveless tops aloooottt. Well, when it comes to my favourite white sleeveless top Momski has bane its existence. There was some threatening phrases when she was flipping out seeing me in it, AGAIN. But don’t worry. I’ll just meet her on super sunny days… Y’know, days where she HAS TO keep her sunnies on. Hehe.

Because sleeveless top is part of my staple diet, so are cardigans and blazers.

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(The very white top that burns Momski’s eyes. Or maybe I should just stay in her kitchen when I wear this top. It looks off white thanks to the lighting. Teehee.)

Everytime you see me decked in anything tie dye, 99% of the time it’s from one label, and, 80% of the time, it’s customised. Everytime you see me in Songket blazer, it is custom made.

Below is one of my favourite pieces. Was at the room and saw this beeeaaauuutiful tie dye motifs on silk that made my eyes go 😍😍😍.

For formal occasions and whatnots, I’ll definitely get a few. Thing is, I don’t attend much weddings and if I do, it’s family weddings where we have other ‘uniforms’ to wear. Last I check, I’m not the kind of person to deck in silk abayas when I go out. So!

Me need me some magic!

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Amongst these lies a black and turquoise motif which caught my eyes. It was definitely different than all these bright motifs. Picked it out. Passed it to the right person and voila!

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Came out just the way I remembered it to be.

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I can wear it to school, or even casual day out!

One of the many right people in my life, Mba Misbah. All I did was pick out the ready available tops for the guy to dippy dye in another material(s) and the tailor to make it into another design for me or show her few sets of complimentary colours and she will tell the artisan to dye it into suitable motifs. Can’t take much credit. If I’m not doing any of these then you can find me behind the counter,

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Sipping my avocado & chocolate juice with piles of tie-dye materials for me to steal be inspired from or chilling with the songket materials choosing a few for myself or do what I do best – pick out a motif I like and get it custom made to my own colour combination. I think it’s just a matter of time before they throw me out *on guard!*

Can’t help it! They’re sooo comfortable!

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When I fall for something, I fall hard for it. That includes Michael Jackson and songkets.

Bahahahaha… Just testing to see if you’re “paying attention”.

The sad part comes right now.

Mba Misbah is getting hitched. Obviously that’s not the sad part. Her (future) husband is based in another city making her resign from her post. *cries a river*

The next time I’ll be there, she won’t.

My. Heart. Is. Breaking. Guys.

💔💔💔💔💔

She’s someone more than just a staff to me. Always there for me from the beginning till the end (of my trip). Go ahead, get married. Her happiness matters a lot to me. But can’t the guy move to the girl’s side?

WHY ARE GUYS SO MEAN!!! I’m staring at every guy from now onwards. Bahahahaha.

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May your days be filled with bliss, love, laughter and nothing but goodness.

From Galeri (the boutique is called Galeri, by the way) to kebun teh (Tea Plantation) to motorcycle rides and morning picnic, this heart is very grateful for every.single.action of yours. Till we meet again soon! (She promised me she’ll meet me when I drop by galeri. Phew! *wipes sweat*)

Can’t wait for the right season. My new long cardi(s) are sitting tight in the wardrobe!

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🌍: Asia & Europe.

Most of these are bespoke. Can’t travel or live without them! Thought I’d share them with you…

  1. Tenun Zipper Songket Coat, Dian Pelangi – Munich, Germany.
  2. Bespoke design, Dian Pelangi – London, England.
  3. Tenun Zipper Songket Coat, Dian Pelangi – Paris, France.
  4. Long Cardigan, DPbyDian – Singapore, Singapore.
  5. Songket room in Indonesia.
  6. Long Cardigan, DPbyDian – Cambridge, England.
  7. Same as 6.
  8.  to last pic: (Off the rack) Silk Kaftan, DPbyDian – Indonesia.

Happy Birthday!

I swore I knew your birthday to fall on 17th December. But, err…. Facebook notification says otherwise – 16th December, which is HOMAIGAWD TODAY!

Eh, ape ni? Bila hang diberanakkan? (Eh, what is this? When did you hatch?)

But it’s okay people! I’ve thought it through.

If your hatch day falls on the 16th, then, I’m sorry for the belated Macdonald’s cake few years back during usrah camp.

AND

GOOD FOR ME! I get to feel festive and celebrate with you and you alone on the 17th. No third wheels, hehe *clingy friend*.

If you hatched on the 17th then, I don’t like your facebook page. *pouts*

16th or 17th or even if you hatched on 45th December, it doesn’t matter cause you’re always in my prayers. *terharu tak?*

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Happy Birthday Siti! May you be given nothing but the best from Him.

It’ll be Thursday tomorrow, I hope you’ll have a good weekend filled with cakes, pastries and prawns.

I’ll join you in spirit with my banana cake and err, prawn pasta? Bahahaha.

Ok, ok, for real, I’ll be there this weekend! Just need to 

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negotiate with Jamal to bring me back to your penthouse directly. He keeps grinning at me, tsk. I need answers Jamal, answers.

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Bah. Don’t worry. I got my back covered. Time to activate Plan B!

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Close your eyes and count to 3.

I’ll be there in a Jiffy!

A dedicated post and half a haiku for you on your birthday, you better print this post in A0 glossy paper and frame it. Ain’t happenin’ twice.

Next year, when we’re both back, I’ll just send you a postcard let’s have outings instead.

Does McDonald themed birthday party sounds good? Happy meal toy awaits!

I hope your birthday falls on 16th. *grins*

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🌍: Giza, Egypt.

📷: Aisyah/Shafa.

Wrong article

For the past few days I keep stumbling upon the same article/Facebook post about sleeping patterns/hours.

Its true that we (or at least most of us) need 8 hours of sleep (slightly more for female) but we can achieve that 8 hours of sleep in just 3 hours! Because at certain time of the night, 1 hour of sleep is equivalent to 3 hours. Let’s call this, the magic hour. I mean, extra1 hour!? Count me in!

Simple e-maths: 3 x 3 = 9

At certain times 1 hour of sleep is equivalent to, well, 1 hour and at certain times 3 hours of sleep is equivalent to j.u.s.t 1 hour of sleep which is why we wake up feeling lethargic even after 3 hours of ‘nap’.

The ‘3 x 3 = 9’ magic hour is from 9pm – 12am.

Now, the Prophet (pbuh) practice is to sleep after Isya, and wake up later at night/morning for tahajjud. My unintelligent guess tells me that he doesn’t have an alarm clock. So, after the magical hour, he would wake up fresh.

These days, Isya here is somewhere between 5:55pm – 6pm. Maghrib’s before 4pm, by the way.

I usually get sleepy between 5:30pm – 6:30pm. [That’s what lack of sun(light) do to you.] So either I settle my Maghrib and nap before Isya, which is around 5pm. Or I immediately sleep after Isya, by 6:15pm.

Remind me to edit the children books bedtime hours. 8pm is too late for them!

Since this article has been IN MY FAYCE for few consecutive days, I figured, Hey! This must be a message for me to follow this. Afterall, with only one week of school left and 2 essay to submit on top of other workload, it sounds like a good time to have a structured bedtime where I can make my (long) night more productive. Work + tahajjud + up for Fajr and see the sunrise, BRING IT ON!

That evening, as usual, by 6:30pm I was groggy and pretty much brain drugged by the words on Microsoft Word. Instead of taking my nap, I decided to hang on and not succumb to sleepiness. Live the sunnah I say!

Chat with Shafa, more like whine at her. Hehe, sorry Jah! Watched research videos, sketch here and there, finish part of essay’s draft and time check: 9:38pm.

It’s time! *cracks knuckles* Lifts duvet. Time to get my promotional sleep, 9 hours for the price of 3 hours. Hehehe.

Set alarm at midnight, y’know, just in case.

The plan in head:

Wake up latest by 2am.

Work till Fajr.

Watch TV series.

Tesco delivery guy will come.

Finally can cook!

Roll around.

Nap after Zohor/Dhuhr.

SOUNDS LIKE A GOOD PLAN RIGHT!

Right!

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WRONG!

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Next thing I knew, I woke up with daylight through the curtain. Fumbled for any one of my phones only to see that 1 died and another was under the pillow in silent mode!

It’s like having 2 mute friends.

Oh, what time did I wake up you wonder?

10.40am.

Instead of 9 hours for the price of 3, I got 13 full hours of sleep 😱😱😱😱😱. Who drugged me!?

The phone in silent mode had 4 missed call and 1 message. The kind soul that was looking for me is the Tesco delivery guy.

GAH! The frustration.

All this plan…

Wake up latest by 2am.

Work till Fajr.

Watch TV series.

Tesco delivery guy will come.

Finally can cook!

Roll around. 

Nap after Zohor/Dhuhr.

Burned to the ground. *wipes tears*

For the next few hours, I thought to myself, what could have possibly gone wrong?

Then it clicked to my brain.

If Isya timing is like Singapore, 8:15pm onwards, it makes perfect sense to sleep 9pm-12am.

My Isya is 5:55pm, so technically, 7pm is the 9pm!

So I was right! My nap timing is right!

The next time I see that e-article, I’ll make sure to hide the notification. BAH!

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Woopsie! Watch your step!

Note: Happened two Mondays ago.

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I don’t know about you but I sleep very well in vehicles. You name it. I got it covered.

If right now I’m 12 years old, I’d gladly sign up for the sleep is for the weak petition and volunteer to forego sleep for 3 consecutive days juuuust for fun!

Turns out I’m 18 (for the past many years. Ok, let’s not push it. I’ll be 20 next year, ok!) and not in the mood nor condition to forego sleep. Not even for a new MV clip. Nada. 8pm? Oooh, let’s sleep. Sleep is for the weak? Suuuurrreee.

So imagine my heartache when I have to sacrifice my sleep in the train from London back to my place for some primitive labour. What was I doing? Manually outline and cut cone shapes plastic for my project.

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Yaaaas. Each of these is handcut, hand glued, hand errthang.

Eat dinner, cut. Before sleep, cut. Wake up from bed, cut. Sigh, life challenges. #firstworldproblem.

By Monday I was in desperate need for help. The relief, when the technician said that the material I used can be laser cut. *pops fireworks*

While waiting for my laser cut session I assembled the ready cut ones – folding & taping em – y’know, to not waste time.

Turns out there’s more than 100 cones to tape and cutting tapes manually is not in my to do list.

Went up to architecture office, barter trade the tape WITH THE DISPENSER for my student card. Gahh. That kind soul is sucha life saver.

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Never felt so content seeing and using the tape dispenser.

As time passes and my laser cut slot drew near, I taped the cones as quickly as I could to be able to return it (the tape dispenser) in time, for some technology goodness. Aaahhh… everything seems to be going smoothly, Alhamdulillah.

✅ Finished taping. ✅ Returned the dispenser in time. ✅ Got 15 minutes to spare. ✅ Material can be laser cut.  My my, what a bright day.

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Okay, fine. Y’know what I mean.

Happily reunited with my student card, I went down via the fire emergency exit staircase. While putting the student card in my lanyard, I missed a step, fell, cracked an ankle and landed on my knees.

Yup. Never fall in 5.5″ heels even while dancing on it, but took a dive wearing a flat boot. Good job, Aqilah.

The first thing that came to my mind was, “Ouch!”

Ok. Fine. You caught me there. It was, “Thank God noooobody’s around! Made the right choice to choose the private staircase.”

Followed by the Ouch.

Okay. Okay. Ishh!

It’s followed by, “My heels! God, please let the feet/ankle heal better than before. I need to wear my heels again. They only have me. Please God Pleaseeeeee.”

Then! It’s followed by an earnest Ouch.

Limp a bit here and there and after few hours, it started to ache even more.

I had no choice other than ask for an ice pack.

PROCESS 2

An ice pack ain’t stopping me from my party favours manual labour.

The burden lifted when I was given the ice pack. Gahhh…. Felt like a much needed birthday present.

As I was about to leave the dude that gave me the ice pack, I was told to hang in there and fill in the accident form.

Okay fineeee!

Probably just some details like my name, student number and phone number I guess.

Turns out it was a loooooong form and the guy typed soooo slow while I was standing, I never needed a chair and patience more in my life.

I assure you, I stood a good 20-30 minutes just for that form when it only took me 2 minutes to fall and crack my ankle. (Actually the crack felt good. Like cracking your knuckles. But obviously, I can’t just crack my ankles joint happily can I? Or can I? Hehe. So, turns out, it was kinda relieving fall/crack wrapped in a heavy price – swollen and aching ankle. Bahahaha. My marbles must’ve fallen off too.)

It made me question myself why I bothered to ask for an ice pack since I’ve held on for a few hours. Or I might as well fall another 3, 4 times to make the standing for 20 minutes filling in the accident report more worth it.

Gonna practice the ‘Lower your gaze’ sunnah more seriously.