Thank God for the boys

July will always be special for me. After all, July is the month the two boys were born. And even though they were born in the same month, they did not share the same zodiac sign; as such they have very different personalities and traits too. But luckily, they got a long just fine. Complementary traits, I guess.

I could not ask for better kids. I am not saying it for the sake of saying it. I am really glad they have not been too challenging for me. They have their strength, and shortcomings, definitely.

No doubt they were not straight A's materials academically - neither was I during my days. Perhaps they will not accumulate enough A's at SPM level, even if their lives were to depend on it. But I'd like to believe that life does not depend on the no of A's you have on your certificates.

I should know. I have seen enough straight A's students 20-30 years later. They became normal. In fact many a times, I don't have to wait that long. They became normal again at the university level.

University of life is a great leveler, so to speak.

Work hard by all means, try your best - be it in school or at work. But in the end, in the end, you must enjoy what one does, and you will prosper with His grace. Getting a string of A's would look great on paper, but if you did it by memorizing, and not understanding your subjects, it will be useless.

I don't believe in straight A's anymore, so my excuse would be that I did not push them hard enough for them to get straight A's. On purpose. Hahaha, whatever, you would say.

I digress again. Both of them have one trait that I like - diligent and hardworking. It will take you to anywhere.

Oh is that two traits? Whatever lah!

Arif was born on July 16, twenty two years ago.

I had to wait for sometimes for Arif's arrival. Obviously, we weren't expecting one too early or during the first year, but after te subsequent two year, we were kind of anxiously waiting, so we were relieved when he eventually arrived. Born in Kuantan Pahang, since it was the nearest biggest town to Kerteh/Dungun. We could have made him a 'wang ihsan' child if we were to choose a hospital in K Terengganu, but I guess back then facilities were a tad better in Kuantan than in Kuala Terengganu.

So I guess he shared the same birth state as his mother, despite the two town being the furthest apart in the state of Pahang (Kuantan and Cameron Highland).

He did spent sometimes in Dungun before moving to KL, so I guess he must have gotten his liking for leko by virtue in the land of keropoks.

Akmal on the other hand was born on July 25, nineteen years ago

Akmal, on the other hand, was born 3 years after his brother, this time in Melaka. I was then working at an oil installation in Melaka, but he did not live there long as soon after he was born, we moved to Johor Bahru as I got myself a job in Singapore.

So the two of them spent some time in Johor Bahru, growing up at Jalan Petri.

I would always associate their arrival with the expansion of my career. Immediately after Arif's arrival, I moved to KL, and started my jet-setting days to Tokyo, and London. Glamourest, right? London Ontario lah!

Immediately after Akmal's arrival, I moved to Singapore, a place many of us Malays would dread going to.

Rezeki anak-anak, I guess. Alhamdulillah.

After about two years in Singapore, we moved back to KL, bringing the office with us to set up the KL office, and a few years later, we moved to Houston. Which was something I'd been looking forward to, just to give the boys a taste of life overseas like what I had experienced when I was 18.

Life was moving too fast then for me. And them.

The boys in front of our apartment in League City, 10 mins from NASA Space Center Houston. They were about 7 and 4 by this time respectively.

Obviously, they cherished their lives in Houston. Great apartment, great food, and great schools. The apartment we had was only 10 mins from NASA Space Center, as my office then was at 1110 NASA Road 1.

I chose the apartment facing a canal, so it was a tranquil setting. I then had a high taste of living. Why not? The office was paying for my rent and it did not cost them a bomb anyway. Properties was reasonably cheap then (gasoline was priced at US$0.75 a gallon during that time). Occasionally you will get the boat docked at the jetty, and we can go fishing with the kids, though a permit would be required. We managed to catch a crab which was released back.

Waiting for their yellow buses. They had to go two different schools.

School was something they have enjoyed, while living in Texas. Everything about school there was free. Free bus ride to and from school, free meals and free books. Well everything is about play learning I guess, so books was not really needed. Akmal attended pre-K (pre-Kindergarten) as he was only four years old, and while Arif could have attended Year 2, we decided to put him in Year 1.

Here we are talking about a non-Muslim country if I may term USA in that manner, but they treated their children, including mine, much better than we would treat our own chlildren in Malaysia, and yet we pride ourselves as being an Islamic country, whatever that means.

Akmal with his teacher Mrs Whitworth in their classroom

Obviously, none of them knew much English since their mom would only speak BM to them. But I have checked with Arif's teachers. She told me that he has friends at school and that he has no problem communicating with his friends. I am sure he has had a good time.

I think schools in the States are fun. They do a lot of creative work, something I would not be able to think of myself, and they brought home all kind of handy works from school. They would bring all kind of things that they made at school.

Arif with his teacher at Ferguson Elementary, League City

Akmal with his fellow Pre-K colleagues in 1999; he is on the left

They weren't too keen to return and found school a chore here in Malaysia. School was airconditioned in Houston, while here it was the fan blowing hot air around. The teachers were so supportive, and loving there, while here teachers had their hands full and would not hesitate to shout or use the cane. Too readily.

Arif upon our returning to KL, at home after a few months struggling to find his footing, asked, "Abah, why schools in Houston are so nice, but in Malaysia, they are terrible while KLIA is so nice but the Houston Airport is terrible?"

I guess we got the priority wrong.

 

And one day Akmal, out of the blue, asked me if he could learn the piano. I had no clue as to why he would asked me that. I did not pester him. And his brother Arif wanted to learn the violin.

So I told the two of them to learn the piano first.

That's how I got two pianists at home. For years, they would pound on the cheap keyboard and then an old piano; and for years, they did not complain.

Arif took piano like duck to water, and at the age of 14, he was already performing on stage of the Sedaya University in Cheras, and for FELDA HQ in KL. He was later on selected as Best (Music) Student in 2005 for his school.

Akmal was the slower of the two, which I believe lessen the pressure on him. Since Arif was the more proficient of the two, I seldom if ever would ask him to play a song for me. He would play the keyboard in his room or play the piano only when I was not around.

I guess with less pressure, he absorbed everything before him and eventually became better than his own brother at piano. He writes songs, composed, arranging and do all kind of wonderful stuff with them. I am really amazed with his talent, to be honest.

Something I had wanted to learn when I was a teen myself. But as I had written before, we had too many Simon Cowell in our midst in the 70s. You can read about him here.

Arif with Azie playing Careless Whisper. He was 14 at this time.

Music was not the only thing in their lives. They did enjoy the outdoor in the early years in their lives. Cycling was our favourite thing that we did together. I believe the pictures above and below were taken in 2002 when both of them were bothin primary school.

Otherwise it was the badminton in the small space we have on the side of our home. Enough for child play, I guess. And of course, ping pong in the porch.

Otherwise, indoor, they would be playing the monopoly together. We are a small family, I must admit. They have no one else but each other.

They do have cousins of course. Lots of them I guess. But not the yellow slimy and slithery thing, it is not! Hahaha.

The piano player playing the guitar?

Of course it would be blasphemous for him to play the guitar when he was so good with the piano, but well, his brother Arif plays two instruments, so he took up guitar. I guess, they can be competitive too, but in a good way.

 

Last day of practicing before his big day at ABRSM

He excelled while taking up classical guitar, so much so he was invited to play at the ABRSM High Scorers Concert in PJ hosted by ABRSM, as the only Malay student there. Never mind that I did get not straight A's SPM sons, but in them I got musically acclaimed ones.

The two brothers composing on their digital piano.

They certainly work well together. Akmal has a bit of an edge as he is not only a piano player, he writes his own songs too, including arranging the orchestra. Arif, on the other hand, is purely a player. Give him notes and he will perform for you.

But both are adamant not to make a career out of music. You can only plan so far. I did try to push them; even promising Akmal that I will send him to Berkley, provided that he qualifies, of course. I guess he knew better that their dad has no monies to let him schooled in the States. Obviously they would love to be back in the States.

So Akmal declined.

Akmal at Gua Hira

But they do know about their religious obligation. Akmal has competed his Quranic reading when he was at secondary school. He has done his umrah, and is due for another one soon. Perhaps haj when he completed his uni studies.

Arif went for his umrah on his own immediately after he graduated

The two brothers at our jungle in Ulu Langat

Why only two of them? Then I was hoping I would get a daughter obviously. Which father would not want one? But I guess since I have been awarded the two boys, I decided that they should be enough for me. I can't asked for another. I believe they complement each other and work well with one another. Three would be a crowd, I guess.

Since they are blessed with some musical talent, I have been asked numerous times if I have more at home. Many would try to make me feel guilty for not having more. They were asking if I could have an orchestra at home, I guess (compared to the olden days of wanting to have a football team at home!). Hahaha.

If I was any younger, may be.

Akmal being interviewed by RTM after his performance at Bakat TV in 2011.

The boys at Masjid Ihsaniah at Padang Asam in Kuala Kangsar

Arif at Tasik Bera

Akmal getting ready for his slot

Currently the highlight of Akmal's young life would be his performance at Nasik Lemak Kopi O at TV 9 in November of 2012. He performed four instrumental songs including his own composition which had been well received.

To my untrained mind, I think he can go far, if he wanted to. But only if he wanted to. That will be up to him. He has his own FB Page with over 3,000 fans, and his own Youtube channel, and some of his performances have garnered over 50,000 likes. For an instrumentalist, it is an achievement by itself, and that was recognized by TV9 when they invited him to perform live.

I love his composition, I really do. This comes not from a father's perspective but as someone who love music. You give him any song, and he will beautifully arrange it on the piano. His key selections are amazing and I would say much different from any other pianist.

It is soothing music from him, at times haunting.

The pianist waiting for his turn at TV9 studio

Arif on the other hand, while he is an accomplished pianist in his own way, has his own career in aviation. He now flies the US$70 million flying machine with 180 passengers each time, something his dad had been dreaming of when he was a kid himself.

Before that, he was flying the RM2,000.00 RC at Kota Damansara. He was a natural with the RC.

Arif in an Airbus A-320 simulator

I am happy to see their achievement in their young life. Bapak was not able to see the fruits of his labour, so to speak. He did not live to see any of his children graduating from university and work. So far, I have seen Arif starting his career and earning a living on his own, so I am grateful to Him.

A self portrait in his cockpit

Arif and the crew on his birthday last week.

The both of them are living my dreams, to be honest. I had wanted to learn an instrument, so I pounced on recorder and Yamaha organ (or the guitar when I was in MRSM) when I was younger, but to no avail, and I had wanted to be a pilot when I was a kid. Again, that did not materialize. They are what I had wanted myself to be, though I certainly would like to believe that I had done nothing to push (or pester) them to fulfill my dreams, other than fulfilling their own. I'd like to believe that I had only facilitated them, but not dictated to them on how they should lead their lives. I can't be sure of course that they are doing it for no one but for themselves, but I am pretty sure that that was the case.

Having said that, I think they have to look after each other. They are only the two of them, after all. Akmal is still in college and he needs to complete his degree, so in the event I am no longer around, then Arif would have to take charge, and make sure Akmal is successful in his academic pursuit. Then again, Akmal is a very independent and responsible person, so I would not bet against him taking charge of the family instead.

They still have a long way to go. I know that. But I do hope they will be able to reflect on their lives in the last 20 odd years, and use what they have experienced to their advantage. I may not be around to live or see them through, but I do hope that they will be more successful in life and have a more round life, so to speak.

Not just monetarily, but also spiritually.

Happy birthdays, Arif and Akmal.

The boys and their toys

I did not have many toys when I was growing up. Life in the 70s and perhaps 80s; we were not flushed with monies - not that we are in the new millennium anyway.

I am not talking the legos or the train toys. That I had enjoyed during the 60s, when our family was a young family and there were only four of us.

My only toys during my teen years would be a RM30 small radio that I bought in 1979 in Kota Bharu. Life was mundane then. Not much music at boarding school when music was my only form of entertainment at home then (there was no telly at home). So after SRP, bapak gave me RM50 to buy myself one.

So I went to KB with a friend, Rashid Mohd Nor, to buy myself one.

I used to listen to BBC and the likes, especially when the national radio resorted to Quranic reading for at least 40 days after the Sultan of Kelantan (the King of Malaysia) passed away. To do this, one had to near the lighting rod cable on the side of the hostel.

Tune to SW and you will get all kind of radio network, including the BBC.

But life got better in the 80s when I started earning my own money in the form of scholarship. Aah, then I was flushed with money. To be honest, people complained about the pittance allowance, but I have a fat bank account then that I would fly home every summer.

I was a prudent person.

So I bought my first toy.

Bought in Melbourne in 1983 for a few hundred Australian dollars. I don't recall the exact price now. 

It served me for at least a decade until the mid 90s,  think. I am not sure what happened after that to be honest. However, it is still with us, and I would like to believe that it is in working condition.

I am hoping, but I have no incentive to test it or to send it for service.

Analogue camera has no more life in them in this digital era. I am not sure if anyone is still using them. Anyone?

Except for a flash, this is all that I have. No big zoom lenses for the me.

Back then, OM10 was the most expensive toys I had ever had. But as I have told you before, I thought that the scholarship allowance was ample enough for me, or perhaps I was ever a prudent person, so I could afford one then, even though many would bitch about the amount.

But the big lenses eluded me then (and even now). Too expensive for me, to be honest. I am not sure I am willing to fork out RM7000 for my dream lense.

And too heavy for me to carry them around.

A 3.1 MP Kodak camera that we bought in the early days of digital camera

Life in the new millennium is a stark contrast to what I had experienced growing up. Alhamdulillah, I think my boys get to enjoy a bit more than what I had enjoyed back then. It is of course not something we could - or should - compare. This is a different era.

Recently, I upgraded my Nikon D90 with the D7100. Don't get me wrong, I love the D90; it has served me well for nearly 5 years. But burglars stole our loved one recently and since we were covered by insurance, I thought might as well we upgrade it to the next level.

I need a more powerful lens now, now that I have this

Obviously, the boys are enjoying this excellent camera more than me. They seems to be better skills in photography, especially Akmal, even though both were untrained. I would like for them to attend some form of formal courses on photography to fine tune their skills.

The toys that my boys bought. Sound Blaster and graphic cards, all computer stuff.

They are of course so much into computers, and would buy stuff to upgrade their computers on line. To me they are at a stage where they could, or may be should, enjoy what interest them the most.

Which come to the following subject matter.

That night I got a phone call requesting our presence at Desa Park City. I have no clue where that is honestly, or even knew of its existence. I had to Google it.

That morning we were there early, and I found that this place is well kept and quite funky to  be honest. I am sure it is place that I can't afford, even if I pour in it all my life savings. Hahaha. I am told that even terrace house would cost over RM2 million.

But I was there with Akmal for something else.

We were invited for the BMW Performance Day with Ingress Auto. It is FOC, so why not. Arif could not make it; he has to sit for his simulator test which is more important than to learn the intrinsic of performance driving with the ultimate driving machine.

Arif has no need for that. He is already driving US$70 million flying machine! Only people like me has the need to drive the ultimate driving machine on the ground.

It is such a beautiful morning as seen in the pic below, taken by BMW at the event.

But let me qualify first by saying that we don't own a BMW. I drive a more mundane Toyota and Arif a Ford. And I have an 18-year-old Ford that I drive to office, now that Akmal is commuting to college using mine. This is the car I would drive for meeting in Shah Alam and even for playing golf in Seremban. I don't really care; it gets me to where I want to go.

Now that we have made that clear, I guess I can reveal the picture with fearing that I could be misconstrued as showing off and bragging. Bragging is normally reserved for facebook. After all  FB stands for "For Bragging", so says my entry a couple of years ago, in this blog.

Hahaha.

And I can't be bragging for something I did not own!

Even though it was not done at Sepang, it is free, so why complain. At Sepang, one can attend  a day's event at RM1500. In the subsequent session, one can even drive at the SIC.

Like Schumacher.

It is still early on a Saturday.

Food galore. This place is chic.

This is free, and we were given one car and two modules to complete. A 328i with 245 hp and 350 Nm torque. It is supposed to go from 0 to 100 in 6.1 second. A most powerful car with exhilarating ride to boot, and it now falls on someone with a P license!

That's Akmal of course.

Akmal waiting for his turn. He was in Car No 5

We were taught many things we did not know, most of which we can absorb and implement in our mundane day by day driving. Like the proper seating arrangement, all the gadgetary available in a car. But I was taught 30 years ago by an Australian instructor on how to handle the steering wheel and how my hand position should be when cornering.

This new technique advocated by BMW sounds blasphemous to me. Hahaha.

He is in a red 328, similar to the car in front of him.  This car is fabulous. Had never driven one quite like it before.

The event is hosted by Ingress Auto in Damansara

I can tell you the excitement we had. We were told to floor the pedal. We were told to brake until (if we could) break the pad. We were told to swerve very hard. In other words, we would never do this sort of things with our own car (unless we absolutely have to), but we did all of that within the 1 hour odd we were inside the car.

I was sceptical before - I would not want to treat it that way, but upon seeing everybody else doing it, we had to play our part.

Akmal slaloming passed the cones in a zig zag fashion to test the driving skill. The white tent is where we started

We did not manage to break the brake pads or disc with our brake slamming action. We were offered the car if we can do just that - FOC, according to BMW driving instructor Kenneth.

Next time maybe. Otherwise we will be abandoning whatever we were driving to get there that morning and return home in the ultimate driving machine in the afternoon.. 328i is such an exhilarating ride, all BMWs are. I am extremely impressed. Personally I don't get that from Merc or some other luxury brand, irrespective of what others tried to preach to me.

And now back to our mundane life and mundane cars.

Enough excitement to last us a lifetime!

Akmal with BMW 328i after the training

The Watch

Father's Day came and went.

It was like any other day. I seldom celebrate one. Since it became popular with the advent of internet and the social media, I never got to celebrate one as Bapak died nearly 30 years ago. Once I received a card done by Akmal,  for which I am thankful. 

But it was never a big day for me.

And perhaps never will.

But this year, while I was conveniently out of the country that Sunday and subsequently only returned two days later, I was presently surprised with a present from my boys.

It was a watch. An expensive one at that, if at least for my standard.

It is a beautiful watch. That's for sure.Picture taken by the Boys.

I have not had one since my last watch went kaput many years ago. It was then a present from my brother Kamal Ismadi. 

As I have said it in the social media FB, you know that you relationship with your children has reached an inflection (Google it; if you have to study math in school, you would know it!) point if you receive gift from your children that you know you would not have to eventually pay for it.

For that reason alone, I am not big on getting present from them earlier in their lives since I have no wish to have to pay for my own present that I did not select but have to pay! Huh. ;)

Arif obviously has a career of his own now and for the past one year has been paying for his own meal, even though he still live at home with us. For that I am pleased, but still, no way I could not take pizza on a daily basis, like him.

Historically, the most expensive watch I had would cost at most say a hundred ringgit. I got a watch as a present when I did well in the SRP exams in 1978. Bapak bought me a watch which I had worn until my working days in Kerteh in the late 80s when I decided one day to take a dip with it in the South China Sea during a picnic (at the beautiful Teluk Bidara).

After all it says, Water Resistant.

But apparently not Sea Resistant.

And soon after, it stopped working for me. Aah, well. I guess I don't understand English that well.

I am not sure when I stopped wearing Bapak's Omega watch. He had that for life - bought it when he started working and never had to buy another one till his last breath, I guess. But trust me to break it after a few years.

Wish I still have that Omega.

However, my first ever watch was when I was in Std 4. I had wanted a watch so much that one day Mak bought me one. It was a simple one with a leather strap, but loved it to death that watch. She gave it to me in the presence of Mak Cak (my auntie) in the 1071-house in Aulong Taiping, so I thought that it was Mak Cak who gave it to me.

I had never asked her, but I believe she was the one who bought it as immediately after I thanking Mak Cak, and as I moved away from them, she turned to Mak and smiled, "Orang lain yang beli, orang lain yang dapat nama."

Mak did not say anything, except she smiled back. I guess seeing her son happy with the watch was good enough for her.

There was another watch that I bought in 1990 in Jalan TAR, Kuala Lumpur when I went there for training. I had just received a cheque for RM75.00 from the New Straits Times for an article that I wrote for them. I am not sure now whether it was for the Sport Section where I could be berating FAM or BAM, or whether it was for a milder column called First Person.

It is not important now since now my writing had deteriorated and I had to write for free in my own blog as no one else would want to pay for me to write or pay to read my nonsensical writing.

Like this one.

I guess that RM75 watch with an engraving denoting the article's title was the most expensive watch I had had for a long, long time.

Until this Tissot came  along.

In a couple more years and a few more Father's Days, I could expect a four wheel on my porch, courtesy of the two boys may be.

Can I start thinking about one of the German marquees? ;)

EPILOGUE

And here is what I got from Akmal in 2007. Thanks Mai, much appreciated. I guess he should stick to his day job as the family's default pianist. Hahaha..

Hope to get one song as a dedication soon! ;)

Alfatihah for my Bapak and tok Bab and tok Adam.

Bapak and I in our home in Assam Kumbang in 1964

The rotten education system

After three consecutive days of interview, looking at some of the supposedly best fresh grads out there, I am left disappointed. And exasperated. While many were second uppers, they can't describe to me even the most fundamental of chemical engineering principles.

One did heat exchanger design in a school project and yet can't even tell me what's LMTD, (which is supposed to mean Log Mean Temperature Difference), while another did phenol production project and yet cannot tell me anything about phenols. Always their excuse, "I did my project in 3rd year, or I left school six months ago, I have forgotten " etc, and you are talking about 10A's students (SPM) from residential schools and grads from major universities.

Local and abroad.

The common denominator is that all of the grads are Malaysians. Malay, if I may tell you the whole truth. (I could not get other races from major universities to apply.) Many can't even do simple integration and differentiation (from SPM level), or explain dew point, or refrigeration system. (They were given math and chem engineering test after the interview.)

Universities are guilty of dropping the standards. A highly respected simulation engineer friend of mine said last night, "We started with 30 kids in 1st year. Eight graduated!" 

Obviously he graduated in the late 80s.
 

I have a similar experience. Half of my classmates were gone by the time we graduated four years after. I graduated in 1985.

He said, "Universities are guilty of dropping the standards. Instead of failing them, they simply pass them. For public unis, they are given orders to make sure these kids pass. For private unis, every kid is worth a lot of money, so failure would not be an option either."

I concur. Even if is not 100% true, that's our impression. Our universities tend to pass students with no due consideration of quality. A friend lecturer who responded to my FB posting of this said, "We will most likely be blamed if the students fail."

I saw a posting in my lecturer friend's posting about grades given to his students in his subjects. I am sure it is not normal distribution. It's slanted towards the A's, that's for sure. While his university is an Apex university and tends to get the good SPM students, surely they are NOT Cambridge or Oxford. I would expect their grades to follow some form of normal distribution, not a extremely slanted one. 

What's more since his is not a general science stream while the bulk of good students would pick as as their choice courses.

80% scored HD (High distinction, or A+ if you must) in my class? Fat chance. We would be lucky if we didn't fail. Failure would be a norm then. Tell me how many % would graduate with second class upper or higher from our universities nowadays? A's seems to be the average grade here, even for engineering. 

Let's not talk about non-science streams.

May be I am stern looking interviewer, but I do have some common sense when dealing with youngsters. If they are stuck, and can't answer me, I would try to ease them up by tellling them to take a deep breath. I would then even offer them coffee, if it would reduce their nervousness, although I am sure coffee would do the exact opposite.

I am not perfect, but I do attempt to make them at ease.

But then again, we do have engineers who could not do simple integration or differentiation. And I left them alone for one hour in the office to come up with answers to simple SPM questions:

y = x2; find dy/dx

or

y=x2, integrate with respect to x.

I am sure Akmal would pass this test, and I have since asked my schoolmates who are not engineers, and they all did it on the go.

The state of our education system!

And we complain about our universities ranking in THES and QS?

For the records, all the candidates are mostly second uppers, and they were from a variety of universities - UTM, USM, UiTM, UKM, UTP (Malaysia), UNSW, UWA, U Sydney (Australia), U Sheffield (UK), USA, etc. Some did better than others, of course.

 We need to revamp our school and university systems. Our students have become parrots and they do things they don't really mean. Computers of course aggravate the situation in such a way that they do not see the equations they need later in the engineering career. Universities should encourage manual calculation, minus even Excel.

SPM should be banned from Malaysian students' life. :) They are the the roots of all evils.

Universities should have a quota for failure and it should be a double digit numbers especially for core science subjects like engineering and medicine. Let they find other calling in life if they can't digest these rocket sciences. I am still sure they could prosper in life in other fields, so it is not a waste of effort in educating them.

In 1982, while in first year at Monash, I was not doing too well. I can't understand the subjects - they are tough. I can't understand the Australian slang spoken in large lecture halls.

So I failed in at least two subjects - physics and mechanical engineering, both requiring good understanding of the topic, but I prospered well in memory subject such as materials engineering.

I was called to the Dean office. I am not sure if they issued me a letter requesting that I be present. There was no cellphone for sure then.

Timidly I went to his office  - one Dr something or sounds like Polish to me. He was the most important person I had to see in all of my 19 years' life.

"Mr Hariri," he said, I am sure he was looking directly into me. And he addressed me formally, My head I am sure held down, "You failed my subject!"

I am not sure what he wants me to say. Yes, I had failed my mechanical engineering exam, but that was merely stating the obvious.

"If you failed again, I am going to kick you out," he told me straight to my face.

No, he did not offer to counsel me, give me extra classes,  blamed his teaching methods and took pity on this Asian student struggling with the language and slang. Instead he demanded that I pass in the final. There was no negotiation.

No spoon fed here from the lecturers then. You either do it, or get out of my faculty.

We only want the best to graduate and if you are not one of them, so be it. There are thousands more out there. I was no loss to Monash, if I did not graduate. I was just one the thousands of students there. I am told in no uncertain term to buck up and live to their reputation.

That's what I would like to see.

In this case, there was no argument on my side that I had done enough and I didn't offer excuses.  I just ploughed through with help of a senior, and I am happy to report that I managed to squeeze through that year and passed all my exams, with rooms to spare for my first year in 1982. The next 3 years was even better as I managed to overcome the language barrier and lectures were no longer a chore. I graduated in chemical engineering with honours and I did it in four years - the minimum one can graduate with an engineering degree.

Spending an hour with my lecturer friend teaching at UniKL last night, a small and non-descript school in Kuala Lumpur, you will hear wonderful stories of students arguing with lecturers on why they should pass them, or them taking orders from management that the students be upgraded a grade or two higher than they deserved..

Or stories on how lenient they were giving marks for their subjects.

What I want as an employer is not students with perfect English (a bonus though), or students with wonderful presentation skill (a bonus again). I prefer a person with decent skills in the above area, and someone who could explain about the fundamentals of engineering. Good understanding of  physics and math is a must. He needs not memorise the whole equations, if it is complex since one can almost always open the book whenever it is needed, but be able to explain them.

(I was bad in English and presentation skills and developed them over my working years, so I can empathise with students on these.)

A good understanding of the concept, and be able to make deduction from his own knowledge or hints, if he was not sure. If you can't or don't understand Boyle's Law and the Bernoulli's principle, then you have no business calling yourself an engineer.

Malaysian universities and the Malaysian education systems - let's do something to improve the way students learn about things. They should not be taught to memorise and be molly-coddled. Learning is the key word.

Friends are for the good times.... and the bad times

He was visibly moved, after the solat jenazah at the mosque.

"Thanks for coming Man. Susah susah engkau saja," Madi said. I stared at him; I not sure how how many hours of sleep he had for the past 96 hours. I am sure he would be able to count with fingers on a single hand, if I were to ask him. I am sure from the moment he was asked to return home (from Chicago) and onto the 24 hour (or more) flight to Kuala Lumpur and onto to Kuala Terengganu, he probably had not slept a wink.

Then I quickly dismissed his notion. "It was nothing," I said. "Don't you mention it. Friends are for times of joy..." I paused to take a deep breath, "....and for times of sorrow."

We then hugged each other. He was close to tears, and he was trying hard to control it. I would have understood him if he were to burst into tears. This year (2013) was really a trying year for him. Early in the year, he lost his father in law, right in the middle of a family wedding. Two days later, he was asked to returned immediately since his wife was admitted into the ICU at Hospital Sg Buluh.

"I think you better come home," his brother had said to him, breaking the news of his wife Baya's illness, over the phone.

My bro Madi working hard at the funeral of his dad. It has been a trying year for him

I am sure then in January 2013, he did not get enough sleep in the aftermath of that dreaded phone call, until his arrival at the ICU.

This was one of the dreaded occasions that we had on many occasions talked about everytime he returned to KL. He knew eventually it would be coming, wondering how to handle such an occasion since he is living and working in the faraway land called the United States of America. I should know too; I had experienced that dreaded phone call one night in August of 1984 in Melbourne.

But one has to experience it to really know it, and as as another of our mutual friends Aya had said, even at this age, losing one's parents is not something one can easily cope with.

I was contemplating hard the night before, right after getting the news from his brother, whether I could be attending the funeral. The return flight is a bit odd. There was a 1 pm flight which was too close for me to catch after the burial scheduled at 10 am, but if I were to miss it, then I would have to wait until 2120 hours, which was a tad too long for me to wait at the airport.

But I knew I had to be there. I knew his family well. I had on many occasions chatted with his dad at this bro's house in Shah Alam. I had spent days at Madi's house in Chicago; he had on many occasions bought me gifts from USA. So I knew I had to fly to KT - luckily there is one early morning flight.

By 11 am, Poi was worried that I was going to be late. "Let's go now," he told me. They were still filling up the grave with more earth. "Let's wait for a few minutes, until the burial is complete," I resisted him. I won't wait for the talqin. I need to catch the 1 pm flight, but at least I would be there until the grave is fully completed.

They have not met for so long, may be since in 1980 since Madi did not return home for the reunion of 2003. So there many stories told at the hospital when they met again for the first time after more than 30 years. Zai said: The stories told by him were as if that we were there again, and like we were 17 again - all over again. It must have been vivid.And livid.

Poi asked me to take a ride with Zai saying that I would have  better chance to catch the plane taking a ride with him. But it was Poi who drove like Vettel to be honest, arriving  5 minutes earlier than us. But by then, I had missed the flight. There was no amount of pleading from the dad of an Air Asia pilot that would make one En Redzuan change his mind, and allowed me to board the plane.

Aah, well. That's Air Asia for you.

So I had to change my plan, and find things to do while waiting for my 9 pm flight.

In the end, Zai and Poi decided that they were going to spend the day entertaining this old friend of theirs. Zai and I had gone a long way - we were classmates for five years at high school, and were roommates at Perth while doing our matriculation. On the other hand, I barely knew Poi, to be honest. While we were schoolmates at (same) high school, but we were of different class, so we seldom had the opportunity to interact with one another. Our chance came when I went to Melbourne for my tertiary education at Monash. By then, Poi had spent a year already there - he did his matric in Melbourne while I completed mine in Perth, but he went to Swinburne Institute of Technology and did not get involve much with student activism, so I don't believe we had even met, while we were in Melbourne.

His wife had asked him the night before about me, when he told her that he was picking me up at the airport. "Is he your best friend in Melbourne?" she asked. "I am not sure I had even met him there, to be honest," he replied. His children laughed.

Poi was being honest. I was trying very hard myself the night before trying to figure out if I even knew of Poi's existence then in Melbourne (and him of mine, obviously). I mean I contacted Rashid when I got an offer to study at Monash, and Rashid picked me up at the consul's house when I arrived one that wee hour of the morning in Feb of 1982. I knew of other schoolmates who were at Monash - Art Buteq and Doris.

And Art and Poi had even visited Perth late that year in 1981.

But somehow Poi's name was missing from my memory from the moment I stepped onto Melbourne's soil..

So on the way to Kuala Brang, we renewed our acquaintance. He spent more time with the local Australian moslem community, and seldom interact with students, he told me. No wonder, he was into tabligh (and still is,) and no wonder our path did not cross then in the 80s when we were living in the same city.

Many common stories were told. That one hour ride was our way of getting to know each other, from our days at school to Melbourne and until present day. Poi was so much in home schooling and all his children (3 of them) were home schooled, which was the main reason why I had contacted him to hitch a ride to Kuala Berang.

"Depends on what you want to do in life, Man. My kids are into IT and programming, so there is no requirement for college diploma or university degree. What's more important is certification," he explained.

Understood with my own limited knowledge in the IT and programming world, I guess.

After I missed the 1 pm flight, Zai and Poi were scheming for things for me to while my time away. "First, we'll drive you to the hotel, and we'll come back to pick you up after Friday prayer and go for lunch. You go and take rest now," Zai told me. He did not even allow me to go for Friday. "Allah has given you the lee way not to have to do your Friday, so take it with an open heart," he told me when I protested.

Three friends having satar and air nyior at the beach in Marang. I shared with them at least five years of my school life, and our Australian adventure. Poi perhaps has more stories to tell of his Australian experience as he spent nearly a decade there, mixing with the local Australian muslims community. I like your green eyes story, bro. Hehehe, Zaid did not understand it, and had to ask me later about the green eyes.

Would you believe it that Zai even paid for my hotel room, despite my protestation? Zai is certainly not just a friend, not even a good friend. He is making me feel like we are family!

In fact, he apologised earlier for not being to take me to his house since there was no one at home.

They came back at 3 pm and Zai took us to this Briyani Gam restaurant. It was really good. The rice was all pure basmati, with just the right spices. The same goes to the gulai - enough spices, with little hint of sweetness. 

Perfect.

But I must add the lauk kambing was mewah. Ample of kambing and in the end when we had finished our rice, we still have ample of the lauk kambing left. All three of us. Poi and I agreed that the lauk kambing was perhaps a bit too mewah.

I did not know till later that it was Zai's restaurant, so we had given him our honest opinion.

And our honest opinion is that we would frequent it, for it is that delicious. Unfortunately it is not in KL for me to enjoy this weekly. But now I know where to go for my lunch if ever again I found myself in Kuala Terengganu.

Obviously right after lunch, we ended up at the beach of Marang for our by-the-sea satar. We had to do it by the beach since we knew of someone who for some reasons always crave for satar and had been imagining herself having it by the sea, so it would be good to tease her.

I think the stress of taking on KL's notorious traffic jam is taking the toll on Aya. Take a break Aya, go and visit KT with your partners in crime. You know where to have your Briyani, and I am sure you will enjoy the satar by the beach. Traffic on a Friday is very light.

All in all, while it took the death of Madi's dad to make me come to KT, I surely hope that I would not have to wait for another death for me to enjoy friend's company again. Poi told me that it is his wishes to go and visit his schoolmates and their parents, and if the parents are no longer with them, that he would like to visit their graves.

Good on you, Poi. You have my respect for how you are leading your life, and if you start your endevour very soon, I would salute you. That would be icing on the cake of your life, so to speak, something I am sure I would not be able to emulate.

Thank you Zai and Poi for taking time off entertaining this old guy. I had enjoyed their company, and wish to reciprocate soon in Kuala Lumpur.

My early morning flight at LCCT. Notwithstanding the at-times-soulless service counter, especially if you were to request for something outside their SOP, I am grateful for its existence, as it allows me to fly anywhere at my whim and fancy.

That Friday morning was all about Madi and his aruah dad. Moga Allah mencucuri rahmat keatas ruh beliau. Takziah from all of us Madi, let's continue being an anak yang soleh, for that's the only way for us to now help our demise parents.

And the return flight from KT. It was dark when I left home and it was already dark when I came home. I like the KT airport, love the architecture, it is expansive albeit I believe a bit too expansive. Perhaps it was built with the future in mind, too far in the future, I think.

I reached home at 2330 hours having left home at 0445 hours,  tiring but it was a journey I had to make for my bro Madi at his time of sorrow. There is a reason why I missed my 1 pm return flight - it is so that I could renew my acquaintance with bros Poi and Zai.

Everything has been set by Him.

EPILOGUE

I am sure this is what my bro Madi feels and would do for his aruah dad.