From little things... that made up a year.

Now at the end of the first working year, life has to take a turn again.

More than a year ago, each of us started off as a total pharmacist-newbie - I didn't even know what Vasteral is (this drug never existed in my university textbooks!) A real noob I really was, for I used to wonder how seniors took only 5 seconds to screen a prescription, while i needed 5 minutes to screen one!

Today, after seeing thousands of faces, after talking to thousands of patients, after rotating between a dozen of departments, after learning about hundreds of medications and diseases, I believe we are now a different person each.

And, just when we all almost felt like we have known each other for a lifetime, we just have to step out of our comfort zone. But a year of memory is what we would truly cherish at the end of the day. We have travelled to the highlands together, we have made numerous 'makan' trips together and we have played endless games together. To me, preregistration training was not just about being able to complete the competencies targets expected of us, but it's also about working together as a team, building rapport with other healthcare professionals as well as with the patients, and most importantly - treasure the friendships which you have made throughout the one year.

Senior pharmacists and senior staffs in the hospital have been really warm to us, so we thank you for that.

With that, to all my dear ex-PRPs colleagues, i truly wish you all the best of luck!!! We shall all now look forward to a new working environment!

I want to be swept off my feet again

One fine day, i would want to watch this show live again. To experience the visual and musical effect in the Majesty Theatre of London, to be wowed by the grand stair case for Masquerade, to be awed by the cinematic feel of the entire stage musical.

One day, the time will come. It's a love for which I have held on so strongly, and i still ain't over it yet.

Marvels of Mechanical Music

I always have a soft spot for music boxes. In fact, a mechanical music box is one of my favourite things - one which does not run on battery, made of metal pieces and purely mechanical. It is such an ingenious tiny article, the creation of mechanical wonders, converting the energy into beautiful sounds of music.

The most fascinating part of the gadget is perhaps the metal cylinder with lots of tiny tangible dots, akin to the Braille. When the cylinder is rotated, each studded dot comes around and lifts up the metal tooth on the comb. And as it leaves, the metal tooth will snap back, and this delivers a precise note of music.

This is the simplest, and perhaps also the earliest form of mechanical music, dated way back before the creation of the more sophisticated organ or piano. It doesnt take a musical maestro to make this musical box work. All you need to do is just turn around the lever, at your own tempo. You are your own musician - wind it fast and the music plays on an allegreto mood, or go slow to create an adagio piece!

Playing and listening to these mechanical music makes me think about places like Salzburg and Cologne. These are the land of music, the historical places of world's greatest composers like Mozart and Beethoven. Music has been something which i grew up with, and it takes passion to keep it glowing.

In short, I feel that these mechanical music boxes are so magical that when one listens to it, he or she is in fact listening to the history in the form of music, experiencing the wonders of inventions of man. It is a dream of mine to have a collection of these music boxes from all over the world; though I have only a couple of them right now, I treasure each and every one which I already have. :)

When September Ends

Summer has come and passed
the innocent can never last
wake me up when September ends...

here comes the rain again
falling from the stars
drenched in my pain again
becoming who we are...

as my memory rests
but never forgets what I lost
wake me up when September ends...

ring out the bells again
like we did when spring began
wake me up when September ends...

here comes the rain again
falling from the stars
drenched in my pain again
becoming who we are...

Summer has come and passed
the innocent can never last
wake me up when September ends...

"Wake Me Up When September Ends" by Green Day

The Sun is Smiling

Of the many departments in the hospital, I always thought that maternity ward is the happiest place to be in. Over the visiting hours, you will see a vast of smiling faces. And these are usually the new parents or grandparents, or even close family friends. Every pair of eyes would be admiring their new little angels, all cocooned up in little blankets to keep them warm.

But, I also learnt that the happiest ward might also be a sad place for some.

It was on a sunny afternoon when the ward nurse handed me a prescription for a young Indian lady. The doctor had endorsed only a list of medications for the mother, and none for the baby. In the midst of the chatters and laughters of other happy parents in the ward, I spotted the Indian lady whose prescription was in my hand. She was sitting alone on a bench, facing the small garden in between the wards. I approached her, wanting her to acknowledge my presence, but at the same time, fearing that i might be disturbing her from her deep thoughts.

She seemed upset while looking at the bag of medications in my hands. I said no words as I sat down next to her. As though talking to a complete stranger, she shared a few words, "She's my second baby, and like the first one, she did not survive immediately after birth."

My heart cried out for her when i listened to her. The tired eyes, the weary mood, the wrinkled face - all of which showed me how hard it was to be a mother and to conceive a baby.

As I was still lost for words, she continued, "But you know, my dear, life has to go on. My babies have just gone to heaven early. And, I'm now seeing the sun smiling anew. Have you noticed it today?"

I didn't answer her. For I was dumbfounded and amazed by her spirit. She was only 32, not much older than I am; but much wiser, much mellower, much stronger in faith.

I dispensed the medications to her, still overwhelmed by what she has just said. Her words echoed in my inner ear - "...I'm now seeing the sun smiling anew..."

She thanked me with a wide smile, and as I left the bench, I finally told her, "Yes I have seen the sun smiling. I have seen it in your smile. I should thank you for that."

I came home that day, with one message sent across my mind - at any moment of life when all we see is just darkness, start searching for the light. It is there, it's just how we perceive it. Let it shine unto us. Let it show us the way, so that we will not feel at lost.


To my best friend who is in grief now for the passing of her loved one, please stay strong, for the sun is always there, smiling at you.

May It Be

...Mornie utulie,
Believe and you will find your way.
Mornie alantie,
A promise lives within you now...

My so-called hometown Barista

Each time i frequent this particular eating place, the owner never fails to fascinate me with the way he prepares and mixes the drinks for all his customers. He makes coffee, tea and other non-alcoholic beverages, but my favourite is always his hot milo (Malaysian's favourite chocolate malt drink) - with less sugar added.

But seriously, the sight of him working diligently at his kitchen worktop is so assuring that you know you are going to be served with the best drink which you have ordered. The clatters between the stainless-steel teaspoon and the old porcelain cups is so zestful that you know that guy is stirring your drink with much effort. He spares all his concentration and spends a lot of time preparing each cup of drink, plus he makes sure that he stirs each one for at least 10 to 15 seconds. The best reward is that when you take the first sip of your hot coffee, it wouldnt be over piping hot that it burns your tongue; in fact it would just be at a perfect temperature after much stirring, with a whiff of the coffee sending aroma to your senses.

Simply put, I think that man is my favourite Barista in my hometown, and he's best caught in action when one of his hand is holding the ear of the small porcelain cup, and another hand fastened to a stirrer while moving back and forth until the drink in front of him froths up a little.

And by the way, he doesn't work in an airconditioned cafe, nor does he work in the Starbucks. He works under the roof of the oldest market in our country, in the heart of my little hometown. Yes, it's Siang Malam of Taiping I'm talking about.