Jom Conteng!

Hello everynyan! Have you ever heard of Fadhli Hamdan before? No? Well he’s a guy who loves to conteng (doodle). In fact his blog is called ContengConteng. :D

His wonderful style, drawn on sticky notes reminds you of Doug Savage of Savage Chicken fame, and his cat-related stories may remind you of the Simon’s Cat comic strips. He draws about his memories of childhood, where he went to school, everyday happenings, and I guess anything that might strike his fancy. After a 10-year hiatus, he continued to doodle and even managed to produce 2 books! I am jealous. :p

Now, his website is officially a year old (Happy Birthday!) and he’s hosting a competition. Now, I don’t know if I’ll win, but…in his own words: Tak salah mencuba. And here I am trying. :)

Note: The rest of the entry will be in Malay. IF there’re any spelling mistakes or grammatical mistakes..Sorry :D

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Selalunya, entri blog saya dalam Bahasa Inggeris, sebab bila saya berbahasa Melayu, bunyinya macam buku teks darjah 2. Demi minat terhadap suatu peraduan dari blog conteng2, saya akan menggunakan bahasa kebangsaan. Harap pembaca sekalian bersabar. (Sebenarnya bahasa bukanlah salah satu keperluan dalam peraduan tersebut, tapi saya saja nak guna juga. :3 )

Hah, entri hari ni adalah respons kepada capaian dia bertajuk Aku Ingat Lagi: Keputusan Hari UPSR. Anda ingat lagi masa UPSR anda? Masa tu pelajar Muslim akan mengambil PAFA, jadi jumlah mata pelajaran bagi mereka ialah 5, tetapi bagi pelajar-pelajar yang lain, hanya empat jumlahnya: Bahasa Melayu (Karangan), Bahasa Melayu (Pemahaman), Bahasa Inggeris, dan Matematik. Rasanya budak-budak sekarang mesti cemburu dekat kita kan?

Saya bersekolah di SK Tanjung Aru 1, sebuah sekolah kecil berhampiran pantai dan lapangan terbang. Kelas saya 6 Ikhlas (rasanya); nama kelas masa tu baru di tukar kepada ‘Nilai-nilai murni’. Asalnya nama-nama warna saja. Saya seorang pelajar yang biasa, taklah terlalu bijak, banyak kawan, kuat bermain dan sedikit pelik. Kadang-kala bila memakai pakaian sukan, Makcik Kantin akan salah sangka saya ni lelaki dan memanggil saya “Boy”. Ni pasal saya ada dua orang abang yang suka berlatih memotong rambut... menggunakan rambut saya. -_-''

Tahun keputusan UPSR saya ialah 1996. Hari tersebut dah tak ingat. Yang saya ingat, kami semua dikumpulkan dalam satu perhimpunan kecil di bawah matahari. Bukan sahaja keputusan kami diumumkan, malah sekolah menengah yang kami akan ditempatkan. Guru kelas kami, En. Aminuddin ditugaskan untuk membaca keputusan setiap pelajar.

Saya ingat lagi betapa gemuruhnya saya. Pada masa ini, saya teringatkan betapa tegasnya guru dan ibu bapa kami mendorong kami semua untuk belajar. Saya mula berasa takut jika saya gagal dalam UPSR. Tapi yang paling menakutkan ialah “hukuman” yang akan ayah berikan kepada saya jika saya gagal. Ayah seorang yang tegas. Biasalah, dia seorang anggota polis. Tuhan sajalah tahu betapa gugupnya saya.

Satu persatu nama dan keputusan disebut. Ada kawan yang mula marah dan menangis. Ada yang gembira dan ketawa. Pelajar yang mendapat 4A atau 5A dijemput untuk datang ke depan dan membuat satu barisan. Adakah saya salah seorang daripada mereka?

Akhirnya nama saya di sebut. Rasanya seperti semuanya berlaku dalam ‘slow motion’.

“Cherane Christopher. Keputusan… 2A...” Matilah aku!!!! Ayah mesti akan halau saya keluar dari rumah!
“...dan 2A!” Terpaku sekejap.
2A dan... 2A?
Kebolehan mengira saya tiba-tiba hilang. 2 campur 2 bukankah 4?
ASTAGA! 4A KAN? SAYA DAPAT 4A!! Kaki terasa seperti agar-agar. Tapi hati riang! En Aminuddin saja nak bagi saya panik.
“Sekolah kamu St Francis Convent.” Entahlah apakebendanya ni masa tu. (Kemudian saya dapat tahu, rupanya sekolah menengah perempuan.)

Saya bergerak ke depan, bersebelahan dengan rakan-rakan yang lain. Kemudian, saya menelefon ayah dengan telefon awam. Nak tahu apa ayah kata? “Ok la tu.” "Teruja" sangat dia. -_-''

P.S:  Kami di suruh berkumpul di hadapan pasal sekolah telah menjemput wartawan dari akhbar tempatan buat liputan. Ni gambarnya! :D

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Apakah 3 perkara yang paling anda suka dengan blog ContengConteng?

1. Siri yang menarik
2. Lukisan yang bersahaja
3. Cerita tersangat nostalgia

Apakah 3 perkara yang anda rasa boleh diperbaiki?

1. Kekerapan blog
2. Lagi banyak cerita kucing
3. Lagi banyak pertandingan

Apakah 3 barangan (merchandise) yang anda ingin blog ContengConteng hasilkan? (Contoh: Mug, T-shirt, Kad Ucapan)

1. Plushie
2. Sticker
3. Key chain

May Springs Eternal

May.

A while back I tweeted about my love-hate relationship with May. It’s a very emotional and tiring month for me. But never mind, I’ll take it one day at a time.

On the 1st of May, I joined the Borneo International Marathon. I didn’t live-tweet it, but I did take pictures. I also promised to blog about it.

This is not that blog.

Though I took pictures, there were a few other interesting incidents that escaped my camera. *takes out pens and pencil* Which means I’ll have to do it the old-fashioned way.

This also means it would take some time. So you’ll just have to be patient to see me all sweaty and sexy on that day.

(‘scuse me I have to… *bwahahahhahaha* on that last part)

*cough* eherm. Yes, so I was saying, this is not about my adventures in BIM but actually about…

Mother’s Day! *throws confetti*

I personally dislike Mother’s Day. One, because I don’t have a mum and Two, the next day, midnight, will be her anniversary. Since 2006, I associate it with extremely hurtful memories.

But not this year! This year, I plan to actually grow up (a little) or man up to it. I want to focus on other memories that aren't hurtful and not of that day. I’m still a mass of guilt and regret and anger, but I want to make a change.

For those of you who enjoy my drawings, today’s post is a treat for you. :D It’s a part of my childhood, and I hope it reminds you of yours, too (in a nice way).

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Now, I was an angel when I was a child.

God: Eherm!

Okay, I was a bratty, (a bit) spoilt, headstrong child! In short, I was not cute. I wasn't the kind of kid that old people will want to carry on their shoulder or bosoms. My own grandmother preferred my cousins over me. My female cousins were more glamorous, cute, pretty, talented, and/or diligent than me. :P It’s just the way things were, and it was fine by me. It also meant I rolled with the boys more than with the girls. Once my mum actually admitted that she wanted a boy; that’s why my hair was always cut short and she bought me shirts and pants. This fact is  unconfirmed since I wasn’t sure if she was joking or not, but I was there when she said it.

So anyway, today’s post is a little about my past and a little about Malaysia’s favourite past time: food!

Mothers are usually associated with being the best cooks. My mother, bless her soul, could cook AND bake. I’ve heard tales of my elder siblings coming home from school to have cake waiting for them at home. But by the time I came along... well, let’s just say my mom ‘retired’ from that. Ah, jealous was my middle name in those days. Thankfully, she didn’t retire from cooking. She would make simple dishes, but they would taste like they were meant for kings! I’d carefully eat them... and by carefully I meant I’d play with them.

Reader: Play? As in “food fight” play?

No, dear reader. Keep in mind I was a naughty kid. By play, I mean... ah, it’s easier if I give an example.

Every morning, mum or dad would cook breakfast before I headed off to school. Bread was expensive, so I either had fried noodles or fried rice. Now, I could do all sorts of things with noodles. I could suck it halfway and pull it out from my mouth. So I will have this tingling feeling in my throat. I’d do this again and again. Yes, now I see that this is really gross, but back then IT WAS FASCINATING!

My second elder brother, Chester (who I call Bonong) would take this one step further. He could make the noodle come out of his nose. Now, what is a young and impressionable girl to do? Emulate, of course! But much to my disappointment, I couldn’t do it. :(

But I drew the line when it came to rice. I come from a farming family. To be more specific, we are rice planters. Since I was little, I've had a deep respect for rice. I believe in the saying sebutir beras, setitik peluh petani wholeheartedly. I grew up going to paddy fields, planting rice with my own hands and seeing them grow and transform into perfect little pearls of awesomeness. It’s difficult work, I tell you!

...and it was also because my grandmother told me, whenever I didn’t finish my rice: “If you don’t eat all your rice, the chickens will cry”.

What can I say? I was a kid. I’d believe ANYTHING!

So, not wanting to hear or see freaky chickens cry, I would finish all my rice. Up to this day. If you see me not finishing the serving rice it means I’m sick or there’s something wrong with me. In my little world, toys, rice and fish are the best things God gave to mankind.

Now that I’ve grown up, I can how intimate food can be and how rituals or habits quietly bond people together. That act of getting up early in the morning, preparing food, enjoying them together. Boring stuffs. But like the little boy in “Up” says, it’s the boring stuff that you remember.

This would be my breakfast: I’d sit there at the big dining table in the kitchen, with food in front of me, and the kitchen would be the only room lit up. Mum or dad would prepare the food and drink. The drink would be either hot Milo, hot Nespray or Milkmaid milk. Sometimes, when there’s extra food, mom would make me tapau them for lunch. If not, she would give me 20 or 50 sen as lunch money.

There was never a "regular" container for me to use. It would be whatever container she could find. One day it could be an ice-cream container, another day it could be the Axion container. My water bottle was even more special: it could be the standard issue free gift that you'd get from Milo back then, the cordial bottle, or some other product. Mineral water bottles was unheard of. I guess it was too expensive for us. I didn’t mind, but if the container smelled too strongly of detergent, I wouldn’t eat off it.

During the quiet hours of the morning, we would hardly talk. Some days it would be a rain of questions and some days it’s all quiet-like. I didn’t offer much information if nobody asked me. But it’s okay. Then the school bus would arrive, and off I would go to school.

But you wanna know what’s the best thing?

The best thing were the rice balls.

I’m not talking about the Melakan chicken rice balls here. I’m talking about rice being clumped together with a bit of fried fish or chicken, going into your mouth, fed to you from your mother’s hand. There’s no impersonal lifeless clink of the metal spoon hitting your teeth, just all-around warmth and softness.

I remember seeing them picking the bones off the fish and putting it on top of a bit of rice and the very next minute it would magically turn into a ball, just big enough for my mouth. And I’d be so happy and run around munching and came back again when I finish omnyomnyom-ing.

I knew I was growing up because as I grew, I’d experience this less and less, until eventually it stopped.

So there you go. Two memories of childhood with my mother involving food. I guess it’s just boring stuff, but they are some of the memories I remember the most. I miss her terribly around this time of year. Forgive this maudlin gal.

Happy Mother’s Day, everybody!

P.S: I hope you enjoyed the pics I drew. I love them the way they are so much, I didn’t have the heart to colour it.

Runny Nose Days!

Hello there. After a long hiatus of not drawing anything, today’s post features a (rough) comic. Did you miss me? I missed you. The good news is, exam is coming up, which means I’ll have more time to draw and make crafts.

I still remember my promises to @geminianeyes, @silvennia, @Ahmad Justin and @acidburn711 to draw profile pics for them.There was also a special request for Momo the chirping cat. (Whew, that’s a long list!) *sweats* Gomen-ne, it takes a long time I'll get on it as soon as I can. 

So, what’s today’s comic about? Well…

Recently Munirah got sick and I posted something on her Facebook wall that she didn't get. My joke was too low brow. Aha~

So, I promised to illustrate it for her. Here's to you, Munirah! Hope you get well soon, beautiful :)

(Warning: It's a bodily function. So it might be gross for some viewers. XD)

Side note: Did you notice, this is the first time I coloured a comic. Been a long time since I handled Photoshop, and looks like I need to practice more.