colour my week.

a year wiser.

as you were,gentlemen.

cherish the love and the power of food and liquor.

Mohamed Bashir Bin Shahul Hameed.

Dear Dad,
Happy 59th Birthday. I know we hardly talk much now. And I hardly show affection towards you. And even when you do try to make small talk, I'd brush you off with my ignorance and rudeness, and you'd just quietly walk away, with a look of resentment on your face. But,you being you, you'd never keep it in your heart. Forgive and forget. Though at this age, I think its more of the latter for you. Honestly,I don't know where all the animosity came from. Each time I show you rudeness, I'd feel so bad about it after wards, though my ego will never let me show it openly. We were like best friends when I was growing up, the abundance of discolored pictures slotted in the sleeves of those old and dusty albums (works from your legendary SLR) are testament to that. Perhaps, the fault lies with the phenomenon called 'growing up'. Maybe to me,now, your form of affection is smothering. Like those repeated phone calls you make to ask of my whereabouts, it makes me feel like I'm still a little kid. But upon reflection, I believe that in those hazel eyes of yours, I'm still just that. No matter how much I grow or how much older i get or what kind of career or life status I'm having, to you, I'll always be your little boy. It took a remark made in jest by a colleague for me to realise that. Dad, as cliche as it sounds, I really wish I could turn back the hands of time. I wish I could go back to being your precious little boy. There are those moments that i still remember vividly, like how i would always pretend to be asleep in the cab just so that you would carry me home in your arms. And how one night, as i was in tears, you chased after a pushcart 'duku' fruit-seller just to get them for me. There was also that one day when you came rushing down to the void deck when you heard i was being pushed around by some older boys over a game of soccer. Seems like yesterday. I hope you know how much you mean to me, Dad. At times, while you're snoozing, I would just stand there for a brief moment and look at you sleep. I'd smile at how adorable you look when you're snoring. Dad, i know you'll never have a chance to read this, and I can never tell you all these things in person, but as your birthday gift this year, I'll try my very best to change my ways and show you more affection and respect. It's gonna be a challenge, knowing my ego, but I'll try. Again, happy birthday dad. You're still the coolest dude I know. Love you. =)

Your Little Boy,
Me.

dear saturday.

Dear Saturday,
You suck.I've waited 6 long, drainy, funny weathered, temper testing days for you to come by, and the best you've got to offer is "me seated in this pathetic excuse of a computer chair, gazing hazily at the white background of this blog's 'new post' layout and filling it with letters." And to think that I've idolised you with such sacred enthusiasm. And defended you against endless taunts and jibes from those who have long lost their faith in your ability to entice. I think it's best for everyone involved that we part ways. You're such a disappointment. I hope you're happy now.

Your Worshipper No Longer,
Me.