082: Cinema eateries

Note to self: Sweet popcorn in England is not at all sweet.

I rarely visit the cinema in this country because of the hole it burns in my hypothetical wallet. I only indulge myself to a cinematic experience then and again when a must-see or long-anticipated movie comes around. My last visit was to see the final instalment of the Hunger Games trilogy. Although I was half an hour late thanks to rush hour in the London underground, we didn't miss the opening scene because of the customary advertisements that precede it. However, because I was a half an hour late, we went into the theatre empty handed (ie no popcorn).

This time, it was Star Wars. You see, I am a non-follower of this series. The last time I attempted to watch a Star Wars film, I fell asleep. To be fair, I was really tired - it was on the first day of Eid. Thus, it was exactly after visiting 5 houses from the wee hours of the morning. Again today, I was also tired. I didn't want to run the risk of oversleeping because we booked a morning film at 10.15 am, so I chose to not sleep after Fajr prayers at 7am. I am very much dependent on sleep, so without my 8 hours of shut eye per night, my attention and behaviour tend to waiver. Needless to say I only got 6 and a half hours last night, so I was groggy the moment my rear end parked on the comfortably soft theatre seat.

This time I had a get out of jail free card - munchies. Namely, popcorn and water to keep me awake. If I was in Malaysia, I would have had a regular sized portion of caramel popcorn. Since I was little, my trips to the British cinemas would be accompanied by a treat of salty popcorn instead. But today, I had a sudden change of heart and ordered sweet. And boy was that a mistake. I hate being adventurous in ordering food or drinks - it always leaves me with a bitter taste in my mouth (pun intended). I once tried a lychee concoction at Chatime instead of my regular roasted milk tea - it unfortunately ended with me throwing a half filled cup in the trash. Similarly today, the popcorn was so bland, tasteless and raw. It was literally like munching on puffs of air. In the whole tub of popcorn, I can count with one hand how many bits of popcorn that actually held on to a flavour of some sort. The rest - nada. Disapointing.

And because my plan of keeping awake failed because I couldn't bring myself to chew on cardboard-like corn, I found myself sleepily closing my eyes for a couple of minutes during the fight scenes. Thanks, Vue Cinema for your under-enthusiastic confectionaries. It maybe partly influenced by the popcorn, but in the end, I found the movie a little bit on the bland side too. If it was not part of the Star Wars franchise, and if it was a stand alone film, I doubt that it would have gotten the good reviews that it did. But maybe thats just the popcorn and lethargy talking.

081: A trip to the bookstore

Theres nothing quite like it. Shelves after shelves of penned thoughts and ideas. If there was a single word to describe the act of browsing books like "shopping" is to browsing items in stores, I would have that as a hobby. We visited Waterstones near Piccadilly Circus today. Just what I needed to boost my mood - 5 floors of books to explore. I love how physical stores classify their items not just by genre (which is so been here, done that) but by interesting themes like "Armchair books", "Exploring British crime" and "Books of the Decade".

Walking through a physical bookstore gets my heart pumping and my mind racing, something that online stores (although I do love them too because of their ridiculously low prices) have yet to achieve for me. I love holding books in my hands, smelling their new printed pages, and experiencing each book cover design to even the smallest embossed letter. Classics by the greats like Charles Dickens and Jane Eyre are reprinted with Penguin rebranding with breathtaking beautiful covers to attract new and old readers alike. Honestly, if not read, they can just be framed for their beauty. Some of the older bookstores have been there for so long that the act of visiting them also feels like you're going back in time. Evident from the creaky stairs and haphazard book arrangements, and not forgetting the smell of old musk. In contrast, there is the newly renovated 6 storey Foyles located in Soho. It was closed for so long due to construction work. I pass that area often to get my customary cup of bubble tea. And when it finally opened, I was starstruck by the enormity of its size. Upon my first visit, I spent hours browsing aisle after aisle without committing to any purchase in the end because of my loyalty to Amazon.

But sometimes, although not often, I would purchase a few items to add to the library from physical bookstores. I must admit it is really hard not to just go on Amazon's app and be enticed by its hard to beat prices. But today, I thought I should do my part in keeping bookstores alive and in business - so two books did I buy. I shudder to think of a time when my children, or I for that matter, may not be able to experience the thrills of bookstores anymore. I cannot imagine not getting lost in the endless aisles, running my fingers through the spines until there is a cover, a quote or a title that would catch my eye.

If I could go anywhere in the world, I would choose to dive into the scenes of my favourite books. I would duel with Malfoy at Hogwarts, run a marathon with Murakami, roam Amsterdam with Hazel Grace and eat chocolates in the chocolate factory. But since I can't do that, I find solace knowing that there are special places where these adventures are kept safe and treasured. And that bookstores are always a place where I can physically inch nearer to the stories that have been great companions of mine throughout the years.

080: As you chatter

As you chatter.

I try to laugh at your jokes. But as I do so, a sharp ringing pain explodes from my mouth down my neck and up onto my skull. It is piercing, paralysing. It is red with anger, and silver with strength. Thump thump goes the artery in my forehead. Suddenly, the inner workings of my body becomes increasingly apparent. Water cools it temporarily - giving it a staccato-like relief from the endless scratching of nails on blackboard. But the only therapy is pouring salt on open wounds.

With that, it is like a volcano has exploded. My body coils into fetal position seeking refuge from the hypothetical heat. My eyes are tightly shut as I count the seconds to its evacuation.

Then, numbness. Stillness. As if I had reached the top of a steep hill. Just for mere moments till I am reminded again of its inflicting pain when I talk, eat or even flinch. Damn you - I wish you never existed. And I treasure the days you are absent.







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An ode to mouth ulcers. I hate thee.

079: The feels

With only positive things being visible publicly (ie on social media), there is an instant knee-jerk when negative associated feelings are vocalised. Here are two such examples:

1. "Don't be sad."
Uttered for instance, when your pet goes missing. If hypothetically, my cats (Mamat and Bubu) suddenly leave, I have a right to feel upset. Relationships filled with warm cuddles, silent pauses broken by loving purrs and just the fact, I witnessed these kittens turning into confused teenagers then man-cats, gives me the right to shed bucket loads of tears and cling on to my blanket for days. Most times I do this in private, but if my guard suddenly comes shattering down during a conversation with you, and I turn uncontrollably teary, do not expect me to be happy when you deny me of my true feelings.

2. "Be strong."
Often this is the first thing you might say when a friend, colleague or a family member has lost someone that they hold dear. Although this is definitely said with good intentions, I honestly get annoyed if someone says this to me. It is a common sense for anyone who has lost someone they loved to be strong. They are doing the best they can to hold the fort down in the circumstances that they are in. Thus, saying a passing remark like, "be strong" isn't at all conducive or helpful - because naturally, thats what we already do. It is in hard times like these, like when I lost my grandfather, I wished someone would have told me, "I know you're strong but for now, its ok not to be." Weakness is strength in the right circumstances. And grief is a necessary step towards healing. So by saying things like "Be strong", its as if the griever needs permission to feel grief. It is your job as a friend not to expect intrinsic strength from them, but rather provide them a safe space for them to be able to comfortably feel.

I don't know - I just find it terribly annoying.



Baring it down to its bones, feelings are meant to be felt - however painful it might be to watch. I feel as spectators we need a crash course to deal with uncomfortable feelings cause we are definitely doing a poor job of it at the moment. Real life, not the things you see on screen, is not all sunshine and butterflies. You might have glimpses of it everyday. But what really makes the sun sunnier is when it is contrasted with the dark darks.

Never deny the dark darks. Or you'll find a dimmer sunshine.

078: Running again

After a very long hiatus from exercise, my body has finally returned to adequate doses of intermittent physical strains. My husband and I quite carelessly signed up for 2 races: a 10k and a half marathon. The former just shy of two weeks away and the latter in March. Nothing like an actual test or assessment of one's physical and mental stamina to get one's arse of the couch.

So then we started. Slowly but surely. Going through the motions. And as predicted, with every run, there are less instances of where my lungs screams out for air, or my muscles tense up throwing a hissy fit. I can run longer distances enjoyably. Running and joy: two words I would never have thought to be in my associative vocabulary.

I like running. You really get out what you put in. You can't cheat it, and often it asks or expects more from you than you are prepared to give. The first few kilometres is a mental struggle. All I can think about is why put myself through this torture...
...in the freezing cold...
...and it's raining...
...the ground is covered in mud...
...my socks are wet...
...has it really been only 7 minutes?!?!?!?

But then I reach what I call a threshold. The top of an uphill climb where the internal psychological struggles hushes up and a zone of numbness ensues. I am reading a book my the famous Japanese author, Haruki Murakami - "What I talk about when I talk about running." And he describes this mental state too when he goes out for a run. Mainly, one just enters a quiet place, where just no thoughts or worries are allowed to trespass into the internal psyche. It is so serene; quiet and peaceful. And just like a robot, the body just moves in a paced rhythm.

Sometimes observations might enter your consciousness. Like, "Oh, that grass is pretty" or "Those ducks are eating." Really mundane thoughts. But overall, its just silence. Mind you, this has only happened recently when I am running with my husband. We always plan to talk to one another, to keep the rational mind that is screaming abuse at us at bay. But once we run, we don't really speak. We accompany one another whilst respecting the need for our individual solitude.

However, I have not attempted running stimulus-free alone. I am either listening to podcasts or a musical playlist of some sort. Running alone with solely my uninterrupted thoughts is intimidating. I don't really know why this is considering I go about my commutes never with my headphones in. My thoughts entertain me very much so much so I often take the wrong turn or get lost on long walks. But there is something about running that makes my mind really vulnerable. Thoughts become enemies at war. It literally shouts to end runs before I am ready to finish. It exaggerates pain and simulates failure at every step. But when they shut up, running is so incredibly therapeutic. It drives me to achieve goals and face fears in real life. Cause really, if you can survive a marathon, it is highly likely you are able to survive any life obstacle head on.

We go to a free Saturday 5k every Saturday. I have attended three now, and am planning to do this weekly. When I see people twice my age or even approaching their 70s running miles ahead of us, their feet almost never threading the ground, I think: Man, I want to be them.

Well, here's hoping!