hot spiced breakfast

Talking about office stuff domestically is not really my cup of tea. However, for no apparent reason other than lowering some tension in my stomach I started that new thing this morning. AND I ended up with hot spiced breakfast that was enough to make my ears red and my heart stomping.
Maybe it was about the package because the stuff itself was clear. I am not a smooth talker nor fine writer, I always position myself a good listener (you may come and check out my ears' size and you will understand).
Some points to ponder:
- I'm no angel but I will never try to claim what's not mine
- I try to be helpful only to an extent that the effort is not crossing my "lines"
- New habit is hard to start, especially when one is not ready for the consequences...
Peace....!

21 April, Kartini Day

Kartini was a great young woman. She wrote about things some women/man her era in java/indonesia had not even dared to think about. You know, stuff like education for women, emancipation, poligamy, hold on to your own rights, among other things.
Why do I write about her, now? Apart from high respect I render to her, there's something more interesting to talk about.

It's the date. 21 April 1996, yup 13 years ago. Our family was socially recognised. Socially, because officially it was registered one day before. And this morning, we --me and Mrs. Hikmat-- just found out that WE MISSED the anniversary by one day.

Of course it's nothing. Forgetting things is human, forgetful is my middle name. But, forgetting the marriage anniversary? for a wife? hehehe...no hard feelings, dear. Anyhow, she wasn't feeling too well since morning yesterday, and she even went back home early for the same reason. I'm not the kind of man who can easily remember dates, let alone the event that happened more than a decade ago.

Anyway, this how it happened. Driving to our offices, we were talking about Kartini Day when, all of the sudden, we looked at each other's face and laughed. I shook her hand, "Happy anniversary", and we celebrated it by taking a short stop at a streetside noodle vendor. What an anniversary to remember, hehehe.

I am getting old....

glimpse of heaven

I just got back from heaven to real life. You may take my claim or simply ignore it but I betcha curious about it. Believe me, guys, heaven is real. It is so beautiful and peaceful that one would not exchange it with anything worldly.

How did I go there? I did not. It comes to me.
I was lying lazily over my inlaws' sofa before an F1 qualifying session when heaven comes. Picture this: me, watching the program, my eldest daughter is somewhere in her room reading her daily portion of material (books, children magazine, test exercise anything of a kind), the twins are coming out of nowhere, literally jumping onto my body without early warning, giggleing, the youngest just get over from sore throat and still cope with runny nose and is coughing on the far side of the room, counting some cookies in front of her for no specific reason. My wife is watching the program, too. enjoying the victory of her JB.
The air is not too hot insie, thanks to a ceiling fan over our head.

That, my dear friends, is heaven.

snoopy stuffed doll

Driving to office this morning I passed a face, a glimpse yet so clear. A face of familiar individual. I know her in my youth.... er.... 17 years ago? She kinda stopped by in my life then, a cheerful girl with rabbitlike smile and grin. She took my small snoopy doll and for a change I got a lousy blue stuffed thingi....

Life is beautiful

It's so beautiful that I often thought that even heaven is merely a reflection. Heaven is created in our mind, it's constructed out of substances we experienced in our daily life and we make it over.
Life is so beatiful that I sometimes forget that its span is nothing compared to eternity, that whatever I do in this life will affect my existance in next eternal life after this life. I can't deny it. I love it, I enjoy every seconds of it.