“Hi, my name is Khairul, I’m sure you guys won’t have much trouble remembering that since it’s one of the most common Malay name ever”, I introduced myself.

“At least it’s not Muhammad”, a girl said, in an effort to make me feel better.

“Well, ya, but name is Muhammad Khairul”, and we laughed.

In school, I would have at least three other Khairul in my batch alone. I never had much trouble being called for the wrong person though, as my friends always made up names for me, usually  something related to my size. Among the lots were Kecik (small), Kenit (also means small), Khai, Comel (cute, but of course), even Arnie (as in Anakin Skywalker). My favorites are my online handle MK, and K since Michelle called me that. Most of the time, I’m fine with just Khairul.

Among the Khairul, my name is odd because it’s incomplete. In Arabic, the ‘ul’ is supposed to be part of the next word. There’s Khair ul-Anam that means “The best man”, Khair ul-Anwar that means “The best light”, Khairuddin that means “The best religion”, and there’s me, just Khairul with a blank space for a word to be filled in. My parents must have not made a proper research. Can’t really blame them, Wikipedia was nonexistent back then.

Once, a friend told me that it’s up to me to complete my own name. I was awed by her profound statement (more so because she doesn’t always say  profound things). Her name, unlike mine, is unique, she is the only Cassandra I’ve known.

How do I introduce my name to non-Malaysians? “Cairo? As in the city in Egypt?”, they’ll say. Sure, we have Sydney and Paris, so why not. Telling it to Japanese would be harder I presume, since they don’t have closed syllables. I’m going to Osaka on May, I’m thinking of introducing myself as Kaoru. Sound like a girl name, but I’m half a girl anyway.

If I could have an English name, the closest one would be Carl. I prefer Alexander though, it sounds so legendary and epic. A friend told me that I look more like a Malcolm. Well, better that than Dick. What kind of parents name their son a Dick. Speaking of which, I don’t actually have any friends named Tom, Dick, or Harry.

Despite the commonness and oddity, I have always liked my name, as everyone else would have liked theirs. I take comfort in knowing that it’s not as bad as Nguyen, as one of my close friends is. His name is Nguyen Nguyen. You can’t even choose to address him formally or casually.

Someday when I have a colleague named Will, I’ll annoy him everyday, asking, “Where’s Way?”

Maybe, my name is not meant to be complete. I’ll be whoever I want, anytime I want. I’ll be the jack of all trades, the everyman. I’ll be Khairul, and every more.

Two things that are true about the habit of writing down what you’ve learned: 1) People agree that it’s the right thing to do. 2) Point #1 doesn’t matter, because they don’t like doing it anyway.

Writing takes time which could rather be spent on working. This is a myth, the second biggest misconception in the modern age (the first one is believing that cracking your knuckles actually causes athritis). Publishing takes time, writing doesn’t. Submitting a review on IMDB can take around 30 minutes, jotting down “nl2br() is a function for line break” only takes 5 seconds. I already measured both.

For tools of the trade, I highly recommend Notational Velocity (Mac) or ResophNotes (Windows). Creating notes is easy, almost with no barrier to entry. No titles needed, no manual saving, no organizing. Just write. To refer back on what you have written, just search (pragmatic programmer’s rule #2, search trumps navigation). The search bar and writing area is one, which will save you a lot of time. Search-as-you-type, which will save you a lot more time.

If you need more bells and whistles, try Evernote. This is what I’m using right now to record the solutions I’ve found while handling Anwers.

Don’t let your discoveries go to waste. The accumulated knowledge will prove to be very useful in the long run. Start writing today, for a better tomorrow.

I had lunch with a gorgeous lady today,
she used to be a person to admire and envy,
back in the place where I used to be.

I have since left and went away,
yet I’m sure she is still that way.

You hear stories about people.
Some are good, some are not.

But never judge a person,
until you have met her in person,
in an one-on-one conversation.

“What is it about guys that makes them want to screw anything that walks, even when they’re going out with someone as awesome as Allegra Cole?” – Sara, Hitch (2005).

In the age of American TV and 9gag, we have come to accept the idea that men and women can’t be friends. This applies more exclusively to guys. If you have a non-work relationship with a girl but you are not dating her or fucking her, then you are losing The Game. Thus, the term ‘friendzone’ was born.

That is a tough way to live. It is as if a man is always in this ‘hunting’ mode, preying on every single attractive female that he lay his eyes on. His flirting switch is constantly turned on, looking for any chance to make a move. His self-worth depends entirely on the ability to get girls into bed. It’s only about sex, which is sad, because even sex means so much more than just fucking.

Try to see differently.

Try to see a girl as a human being. Try to have a genuine conversation. Talk about each other’s day, about national politics, about extra-terrestrial beings. Exchange your favorite books, films, and music. Tell stories, make jokes. Go to a shopping mall together. Ask for tips on fashion, offer advice on computers (or the other way around). Share your dreams, hope, and beliefs. Share this journey called life.

Friendship is the best thing that can happen between one human being with another. Appreciate its beauty and abundance, how much happiness it can bring.

Soul mate you need to have only one. Friends, you need them plenty. A lot. Hundreds.

There was a short period of my life where I felt that everything was meaningless.

It was a good period.

Think about it — if everything is meaningless, then there would be no point of doing anything at all. No point of working hard to prove your worth in your career. No point of thinking about her and the complications that come along. No point of chasing deadlines on responsibilities that you put upon yourself. No point to even level up your Priest character in Dragon Nest.

Nothing, or no one, matters in this life.

Upon this realization, I reached enlightenment. I was set free.

Free from expectations from others, and myself. Free from ego and pride, from guilt and regret. Free to do anything that I want to. And so I did.

It was a good period. Let me be reminded.

For the sake of happiness, there are too much qualities about myself that I would like to have. I’d like to be radically focused at work, have more empathy towards others, speak less. I’d like to remember that my source of joy doesn’t come from one particular person, I wish I have more humility, and I wanted to call home more often.

So I did some goal setting activities on self-improvisation, outlining categories – God in the first column, family in the second, career, friends, and so on. Then I scored myself on them on a weekly basis. But there were too many things to remember, I got overwhelmed, and under-performing categories demotivated the rest. It didn’t last long.

For 2012, I am taking a different approach. I’ll go slower, I’ll tackle them one by one. Inspired by The Happiness Project by Gretchen Rubin, I am having a theme for each month, on qualities that I wanted to have.

For January, it is the month of being content. It is important to start this journey knowing that I am enough. I am sufficient. Being content will prepare me for the rest of the other challenges. Most importantly, even if this whole project doesn’t really turn out the way I wanted it to be, I am still content of who I am.

Instead of scoring myself on the theme, I decided to do something that I do best – write. Every time an internal conflict arises, I turn to my trusty notebook and write about how I should be content on the matter. When I write about it, I am reminded of many good things – my comfortable shelter, abundance of friends, well-equipped intellect. By the end of the day, I realized that I have the honor to not just being content, but also being grateful.

Hopefully when I have write them enough, these qualities would be ingrained into my subconscious. They would become parts of me.

The first half of January has been going really good so far. Looking forward to another half, and beyond.

We never really give ourselves some time to think. Not since the Internet.

The computer is one hell of a distraction machine. We are on auto-pilot the moment we put our hands on the keyboard, typing ‘Facebook’ into the address bar as if it is a subconscious act, wired into our brain to fill every two-seconds gap we have in this life. Scary, scary world we are living in.

When I am outside, there are a lot of things on my mind. On the train, in the coffee shop, even while staring throughout the window. I think of ideas, problems, and reflections.

The only thing that is left to do is to put those ideas into a tangible manner. Write it down. Don’t let them go to waste.

But first, I need some time, to think.

January is the month of contentment. It is important to start this journey knowing that I am enough, I am sufficient.

I am grateful for my strengths, I do not moan of my weaknesses. Who I am now is the best person I could have ever been.

I open my heart and mind to all possibilities of learning. There is no rush, no plan, no goal. Just, learn.

I am surrounded by a blanket of love from family and friends. I am loved. I will always be loved.

2011 was the year of ‘now’. I made decisions on matters that I had been holding back for long. I got a passport, traveled out of the country, quit my job. It was fun, I have no regrets.

2012 will be the year of ‘creating’. I’ll write, draw, take photos, and record videos. I’ll leave notes and postcards to my friends. I’ll produce essays that will be of use to others. I’ll contribute to the society.

What more can the heart of a man desire?

A good Muslim:

1. Is always in the constant need of support from Allah as he makes effort to help himself.
2. Seeks to earn the pleasure of Allah in everything that he does. He is not concerned with seeking the approval of others.
3. His sole purpose in life is to serve his Lord, the Almighty.

Every single time, I am the one who is making all the effort to meet. She never reciprocates. If she is just another friend I would just give up and walk away, my ego wouldn’t let me sunk that low. But she isn’t just another friend, she matters.

Okay maybe she has a good life, a satisfying and challenging job, a wonderful circle of friends, and a good relationship with her boyfriend.

Relationship. I almost hate that word.

Is it a universal agreement that once you are in a good relationship, you stopped seeing your friends? But I wouldn’t do that. I would never.

I am such a needy punk now, a total contrast of who I was in college – where I had a really strong sense of independence. Perhaps it was out of frustration towards my guy friends that were never there in time of my need yet still turned to me in time of theirs. So I swore not to ask for even the tiniest little errand. Once I carried a box heavier than myself, all the way up the stairs, stumbling and fumbling to the fourth floor. I felt damn proud when the task was done.

But when I do meet somebody that I trust, I stick to them like a freakin’ remora. Even the usual courtesy (that I highly valued) disappear because, you know, we are bros.

But here, now, almost everyone are so nice. Then I became clingy. Because I like them so much. They listen, and they give advice. People that I would die to ask for, two years back, when there was none.

Maybe I’m not really looking for friends, or even a girlfriend. Maybe I’m looking for a mother.

I just want to keep my faith in humanity, while maintaining my state of self-reliant. That is all. Why is my life has always been a clash of two extremes? I don’t want to be in extremes. I just want to find the right balance. Being moderate. Just, there.

Okay this is just me blabbering. I’m still not giving up on her. Perhaps after a few weeks or months, I would ask her out for dinner. Then I would tell her about the amazing things that I have accomplished. I want her to see me when I am happy.

Now I got to go back to learn this programming thing.

I am a person with a good heart, but I’ve done many terrible things. I hurt myself and people that are important to me.

I have a lot of terrible thoughts, I find myself apologizing to no one (that’s not a wordplay, I literally say sorry without the faintest clue who I am apologizing at).

I have a chit-chat with Allah just now, I told Him everything that I desire. Which is not much – I just don’t want to be sad, I want Him, my family, my friends, and I want to contribute to the society. That is all (that might sound like an awful lot for ‘nothing much’, but I believe I am still less demanding than most people).

I know I committed a lot of sins, and it is hard to let go some of the things that I am doing, primarily in the way I socialize. I feel bad of saying this, but I really hope He understands, and still grant my wishes.

See, the story of my life doesn’t have many antagonists. Currently, there are none. It is just me making things complicated between me, myself, and my friends. To correct that, I need only to change my perceptions. That easy.

He reminded me what I need to do, just now. So I got up, and I am taking charge. I want to make things right.

May I be reminded to always remember that I have Him to talk to. He is a really good friend. As a matter of fact, He is the best.

I was a miserable goat ass in my first secondary school. I was so poor I couldn’t afford to buy a notebook for one of my class, which was held by the school counselor. It became a tale among my teachers.

One day while I was washing my clothes, I found a five ringgit note in one of my pants. It was such a pleasant surprise, as if I had found a treasure.

I bought a packet of Honey Stars. My homeroom teacher saw it and asked where did I get the money, so I told her the truth. She replied, in the most gentle manner possible, that I was lying.

I kept silent.

When I entered the class, the counselor welcomed me with a cruel joke, “You couldn’t afford a notebook, but you could afford a packet of junk food”, and the entire class laughed. The counselor was the one I was supposed to seek regarding my problem in that school.

I kept silent.

It was the same shit back home. Mom always got the higher voice, in both literal and figurative sense. She would screamed to high heaven defending that she was right, rendering any of my arguments invalid.

I kept silent.

But with dad, it was different. I tried explaining, and he would nod. The moment he turned his back, I knew that he didn’t believe a thing that I said. But he just kept quiet. It hurt more.

Dad kept silent.

I guess, that was one of the thing that kept the marriage stick. Compromise. You might not necessarily agree with the other party, but you just keep being silent. It wasn’t an admission of defeat, but an effort to maintain peace.

So I will keep on being silent. And nod.

But I do wish that the counselor would be crushed by falling rocks. Amen.