Music is a type of art that comes from our heart. We live in a world of music surrounding us. The sound of birds chipping in the morning, honk of cars during traffic jams, and even the sound of our footsteps walking on a walkway can be considered as music. People created songs out of music, and a lot of type of song can be created with different types of music.
What genre of song do you think suitable for you? Is it RNB, rock or sentimental? Which side of the world that the music suits you? There are some kinds of music that tend to blend in ourselves. From the first moment we heard that song, we suddenly had a crush on it. Maybe that is the type of music suitable for us.
Well, for me, it depends on my mood. For the time being, I enjoy listening to the old Malay song. For example, rock song from Lefthanded and Wings. Malay indie music also suits me well. Top songs by Hujan, Meet Uncle Hussein, and Bunkface really do make me sing loudly in the toilet. But, my all-time favourite is Indonesian song. I just love to listen to the slow music of their song that always surely makes me feel more relaxed and peaceful. Famous bands from Indonesia such as Peterpan, Sheila On 7, Dewa and even Padi has created songs that were simply brilliant as rated by me. Haha. English songs? I am not really into them, but if the songs are good to be listened, I would just enjoy it.
So, that’s my interest on music. People have different perception in perceiving the type of music they like. Maybe you readers will not have the same preferences of music as mine. Who cares? As long as the music that you are listening to makes you happy, go ahead. Just listen and enjoy.
The story begins in a big old mansion with huge wooden door at the end of the marble pavement, and there are white pigeons rest themselves in a pond at the front yard. House Number Sixteen is the name given to the mansion, situated at a junction in a town called Bandar Utama. The mansion was built for a reason, built only for selected people. Only some are lucky to be the chosen ones, yet there are more people out there eager to move in.
Thirteen handsome princes, live together under one roof, roof of House Number Sixteen. Prince Aqil, the Iron Chef, is good in cooking, ranging from tom yam to beef steaks, all he manage too prepare with ease. As he is originated from the Kingdom of Johore, so Johore cuisines are what he cooks best. Prince Aqil is the cutest among the princes, but sorry girls, he is already taken. Next is Prince Aizat, the clean, the stylo, yet the shy one. His room is the tidiest, and it shine as bright as the stars, ambi pur smell all over the place, and all things are put in their places. Happily chatting with girls in virtual, but remain silent in the real world. Prince Mud is the crazy one, cheering his colleagues with hilarious jokes. Watching love movies is his hobby, yet is he having a girlfriend is still a mystery. Having an appetite of a dinosaur, but he remain slim at weight of 50 kilos. Prince Hafeez is the passive one; remain silent in his room, and study become priority number one. From the beginning of the day until the end of night, ninety-nine per cent of time allocated for books, and another one per cent for life. Prince Cool is named for Rahimi, as he encounters every single problem without becoming stressful. His skills is more towards technology, as can be detected from his Compaq laptop, you must be wondering how does it operates like an Apple. Indera is the Prince of Guitar, as he plays every note beautifully, but he must not sing or the laundry would not be dry in time. Being the head of the mansion, chief of all the princes, he does his responsibility well. He owns a scooter named the Green Machine, which is what he ride and proud of. Nur Haniff, the Humble Prince, always smiling to people, make they happy to see him. He has light in himself, which bring peace to others, wake up early in the morning ensuring not to miss the Subuh Calling. Next is Prince Izzat, the one with style. Always looks handsome wherever he goes, yet he is still single, I ought to know why. A prince from Penang who is unpredictable, sometimes he does this, sometimes he does that. The tallest prince is Calvin, and he could be a model, if he would want to. Prince Leong is skillful in using pencil, sketching animes with no problem at all. Move from one place to another, Nomad Prince is the one an only, Prince Hanif. Still searching for a room to settle in and now he is happy to live temporarily in front of the TV. Prince Firdaus is the Prince of Rempit, equipped with an RXZ, what he concern is about speed. Going out late at night for an open race, and he always go home with a happy face. The last prince is the smallest one, Prince Fadli, and he is a nice guy. Haha.
This essay is created without any intention to jeopardize any people reputation, and it is just simply for fun. All the characters have nothing to do with those who still alive or already six feet under. Peace, everyone!
My childhood years. I don’t know why recently I always been reminded to my childhood years. So, since that I don’t have any idea what to write right now, let me tell you guys some of my stories when I was an infant.
Okay, where to begin? How about the story when I was not even born yet. Okay, I am the first child in my family, and the first grandson of both my grandparents. So, when I was still an embryo in my mother’s womb, my relatives have already predicted whether the baby going to be born is a boy or a girl. Sadly, they predicted that the baby was a girl. What? Most interestingly, my grandma already bought a gold bracelet for me, and one of my relatives already named me with a girl’s name. Want to know what the name was? It starts with an ‘F’ and none of my siblings have this name. No idea? You go home and ‘google’ for it. Haha. So, that was the first story. What happen to the bracelet? It was inherited to my sister who was born three years after.
Next, when I was one. I celebrated my first birthday twice. Why? Actually, the ‘first’ first birthday was celebrated some days before the real date. But, on the real date, my mom and I supposedly have gone to Sydney to visit my father who was still studying there at that time. But, unexpected flight delay occurred, and I celebrated my ‘second’ first birthday on the real date. A few days after that, I was in Australia.
My kindergarten years, urm..I should say kindergarten days because I was only enrolled there for three days. As in my previous post that I told you that I was a shy boy, I really was, and that is why I only been in kindergarten for three days. Actually, that is not the main reason why I don’t want to go to kindergarten anymore but there is another reason. At that time, I have to take a bus home after the class ended. One day, I was overslept in the bus, and the driver did not notice me because it was a huge bus and I was sleeping at the last row. So, after he had been sent the other students home, he went back to his office, and then I was awake. I noticed that I was alone in the enormous bus, and I started to cry and scream for my mom. The bus driver heard my voice and tried to comfort me. Then, I was sent home, and that was the last time I see the driver’s face, because that was the last day of me in kindergarten. Haha. After that incident, when the bus came to my home to pick me up, I hide under the table and held tightly to it.
Hmm..What else? I don’t know what else to tell you guys. I think that will be enough for now. This is not the first time I wrote about my childhood. I wrote this before in the English SPM 2007 paper, and the question was “Write about your early years.”, and I got an A1 in the subject. Maybe the examiner loves my story, I think. Haha. Anyway, hope that you guys enjoy my story, and do write yours too. I also would like to know your childhood stories.
As early as six in the morning, the bell rings. Indicate the beginning of your day, in an asylum called hostel. Everybody with faces of zombies ran to the bathroom for an early bath.
I remember
The first moment I stepped in. Noble faces of seniors greet me in pleasure. Yet I don’t know they were wearing masks, and reveal the true them when I am helpless. Asked me to clean up their laundry or even cook instant mee. Yet I did the same thing to my juniors. Haha.
I remember
Breakfast, lunch and dinner were specially prepared for more than half a thousand people. Everyone without any idea what were the ingredients of the cuisines. Then somehow a scream came out of nowhere, “Aaahh…there’s a dead lizard in my rice!” Unfortunately, at that time I already finished my meal. “Oh, no! I’m going to be a Cicakman!”
I remember
The worst day in hostel was the best day of your life before. Birthdays. Rotten eggs, water from the fish pond, will be poured on the celebrated person. Then, the celebration ended when the warden finally showed up, without any invitation. The lucky person will remember the best gift he received, three red lines at the back. Ouch. Luckily this doesn’t happen during the birthday of mine. Fiewwhh.
I remember
It was like living in hell there. Bound with schedules and time limits. Only allowed to go out to town once a month. But, the memories living in a hostel are the sweetest in my life.
There I learned the meaning of friendship; I learned the meaning of life.
