Think Twice Before You Look Twice

Today (or rather, yesterday), I heard twice on the radio; driving to and back from classes, about men and hot girls. So I decided to blog about it, taking it as a sign to finally "pen down" something after a long hiatus!

In the morning, I was listening to the Fly FM's Pagi Show with Phat Fabes, Ben and Nadia (God, I sound horribly like an advert). So Ben was complaining about one of the guys from the Cleo's 50 Most Eligible Bachelors or something (I'm sure every girl would know, myself included, only I haven't been reading the magazine -- or any magazine for that matter -- so I'm not so sure about the actual name/title for that). He stressed out that he has no hard feelings whatsoever towards this guy, Henry Golding, saying he's a nice and cool guy yada, yada. What bothered him was the fact that this kind of men and women, being Pan-Asians, are getting all the attention in the mass media; advertisements, magazines, television, etc. just because they're supposedly hotter and more glamorous and all. They were questioning, aren't we, being Chinese, Malays and Indians, hot enough to be getting as much attention?

See, I didn't hear till the end because I was already arriving at my campus. I did, however, hear enough about some people that do prefer looking at the usual crowd of Asians. Although most had said that it's all natural to be looking and paying more attention to people like the Pan-Asians, because, you know, they don't look typical and all that jazz. It's all in the mind.

Coincidently, I was just talking about it with Nazim the night before. It is ridiculously frustrating that they're getting all the attention. With their kind plastered on every inch of the wall at every corner of Malaysia, it makes you feel so bloody inferior if compared to! But I guess living in a multiracial country, we have to "accept" them and not just the usual Ali, Chong, and Muthu (or Pe'ah, Wen Jie, and Minachi) to live up to our reputation. They are partly Asian, after all.

On my way back home, I'm not sure it was Fly FM or Hitz.FM (I like flipping, yes), but I think it was Fly FM's Prem, who was doing all the talking. The reason I cannot be sure (because I am always so sure of myself) is because today, I decided to try a new route back home and I thought I knew the road (supposedly shorter than my usual route), but turned out I got LOST! So, wasn't paying my fullest attention to the radio. So, he was having this little "survey", where guys called in, I think, (because I wasn't in the car yet when this happened) about which do men prefer in women; BEAUTY or BRAIN (read: coming from Prem, he DID mention "beauty" first!). So he claimed most of guys answered : BRAIN *teeeeeeet!* Definitely a lie, right!

So, the girls called in. I remember one of them saying about it being a total lie (agreed upon) because yes, men maybe prefer the brains, but only eventually! They would obviously go for looks first, then they might think, oh this chick is dumb, I'd better just bed her then dump her. They would keep on doing the same evil thing until they've decided to settle down and pick "the right one". I would say, women, on the other hand, would definitely not  go for the looks straight away. Guys, I know what you're thinking : Oh of course, they search the pocket first! Which is not true for most decent, upright, and dignified women! 

Let's face it, how many hot men out there do you see walking with stout and sagging women? You can always, always, find hot girls accompanied by not-so-dashing men. This one dude called in, saying that men do like checking out hot girls. They would look twice, sometimes even FOUR times at the said women. They obviously, obviously like to LOOK. Us girls do "look" as well, but we'd only go like, "Oh my, what a bold and dazzling creation." Then, that's it. We don't fantasize anything like how they boys do it. Yes, I say boys because in truth, you men will always be boys.

As always, I can never have a proper ending to my blogs. I would always want to write more and more. Though space allows it, my time and mind do not. And, I never know how to end things. I always hate endings. What I can say is, guys, check out all the hot girls you want while you can. Just make sure when you do have a girlfriend or wife, don't make her feel ugly, EVER. Cherish her like how you'd always fantasize with someone hotter, and you'll be rewarded with the greatest brand of love you can never imagine from your fantasies. Better yet, know that they ARE hot in every single way. Hot girls are splattered everywhere around the globe. Girls, we simply rock, don't we? *wink*

PS, Personally, I don't think Henry Golding is all THAT hot. In fact, I don't think he's hot at all. Hmph! Jambu, sia!

Never Again

Oh curses.

I have a lousy zit on my right cheek.

Been eating too much fast food.

Should cut down, I should.

Why Study?

A few years back, in 2004 to be exact, my family and I went to the United Kingdom.

There, we went to Oxford, you know, where one of the greatest universities is located =P

From one of the shops, I bought this t-shirt that I haven't been wearing for quite some time.

When I bought it, it was pretty large for my size [I'm bite-size, yes].

And I wore it a few days back [which the t-shirt has now magically shrunk].

Having it bought at Oxford, here's what the t-shirt says:

The more I study,

The more I know.

The more I know,

The more I forget.

The more I forget,

The less I know.

SO WHY STUDY?!

Just thought I'd share it with you all (:

To Die or Not To Die?

Yesterday, I, along with my extended family (that is to say uncles, aunties and cousins - none removed lol), went to Sungai Sendat, Ulu Yam. We always have outings together as a whole family. Usually only within Malaysia, but the farthest being Indonesia.

So I woke up around 8.15AM to prepare the food. My Mom said we were to depart at 9AM. Still, we took our sweetest time doing anything but preparing ourselves. I was busy preparing the food, of course, but not bothering to rush a bit. Everyone else was busy doing something else. My younger brother was still asleep, even. My relatives had, needless to say, set out at around 9AM. Whilst my family were starting on the freeway at about 10.15AM.

The reception deep within the jungle was of course, poor. We had difficulties contacting our relatives to reach the river. We eventually made it, though, naturally. 

My little cousins were already soaked wet in the river. My uncles were starting to perch a small tent on a cement square. I suppose it was still early, for there were not many tourists yet, but enough to occupy all the limited gazebos. 

I changed my outfit and hesitantly dipped myself in the ice-cold water. I'm telling you, it was freakishly COLD. But that degree of coldness is only on the 4th tier of the many-tiers river! You wait.

So first, we swam around this so-called 4th tier of the river. Wait, actually, I dipped myself in the 4.5th tier hehe. This is kind of like the middle or the rocks within the 4.5th tier.

Then i progressed further to the 4th tier hehe. The depth was pretty shallow but it got deeper near the waterfall.

It was really nice. I swam and played around with my cousins. However, something bothered me a bit. There was this small group of youngsters (not to say that I'm old) who were about 15-17 years old, who were there as friends/couples. I'm not so sure. Whatever. My point being that, even if you are to go there with your lover (I'm referring to girls for now), do you have to be so shallow as to wear white shirt to the point that people can see your stunning nipples? Really. Wish I could inject some rationality into that girl's brain. Oh well. As long as she's content.

So you see the waterfall there? There were a bunch boys who slid down the waterfall, at first. I thought it was spooky. Still think it is actually. But at the end of the day, I slid down the waterfall, too! TWICE! My two girl-cousins and I! People were respecting us, naturally haha.

That is obviously me *rawr*. I know I looked stiff, hell it was scary! With that many spectators up there, PLUS DOWN THERE, I shudder to think what could have happened. Here's my cousin's friend who did the "stunt", too. Our stimulator, actually. His picture is a bit clearer because he did it first and my aunt managed to snap his picture using the digital camera! By the time it was my turn, it took me like 15 minutes to decide whether or not to slide. Eventually, the battery died and my aunt took mine using the phone camera.

He is one crazy fella. Doing it the Superman style. 

So this is where my first point comes in. Seeing other people doing it made it look fun. And safe. But still spooky in certain ways. I so wanted to do it that I couldn't think properly. It made me indecisive. It looked safe, so I told my cousins, let's do it! So we climbed up to advance to the 3rd tier. My younger cousin went first. It took her only like 5 minutes to decide. She was fine. When it was my turn, I thought of doubling back. I sat there, thinking. While the people around me threatened to push me if I even thought of backing out. I was like, oh what the hell. The current will push me. Halfway down the slide, I will be pushed forward at the concave. I SHOULD be safe. After my cousin's friend gave me tips on how to do it, I finally decided YES.

So I prayed to God to let me still live because I still need to seek repentance for my sins, and pushed myself forward. With the adrenaline rush, I couldn't remember what happened along the way. What I know is, my head almost hit the rocks when I've splashed into the water. I suppose my position was wrong. But I was glad I was alive! It was scary because I know I barely escaped unscathed. And I did it again. Another near-death experience. I swear, for that second time, if I was not careful, I could have broken my backbone.

Before all that, we advanced up the 2nd tier. Sorry I don't have pictures for this. Earlier we didn't think of bringing the camera along. And mind you, hiking up the slope was onerous. So, at the 2nd tier, the water was the ICIEST-COLDEST. At the waterfall towards the 3rd tier, there was this log. This log jutted out the waterfall, in which you can jump from the edge of the log into the 3rd tier. This waterfall you can't slide because it was too steep. So the guys there jumped from the log. This looked much harmless compared to sliding the 3rd tier waterfall. That's why we decided to "perform" this stunt, without thinking twice. 

However, once we've reached the edge of the log, we didn't just think twice, we thought a trillion times! This was harder than we anticipated. Of course there were many spectators. The whole time we were there, I was mostly with my two cousins, Nurul (17) and Kak Rina (24). During the early days, my family lacked female offsprings. So anyway, we kept changing turns. We were all SO SCARED to jump down the log. I was lucky to be the one in the middle. They kept arguing about, the oldest should go first. No, the youngest should go first. Ditto. Ditto.

In the end the age didn't matter. Still, we kept changing turns. Nurul went first bravely to the edge of the log. Scared. I volunteered. Scared. Kak Rina volunteered. Scared. Nurul volunteered. The same thing over and over again for literally about 30 minutes! Eventually, Nurul went first. She was fine, OF COURSE!

I went next. It took me awhile and this time, the ranking took place between me and Kak Rina. I was tired of waiting, I decided, Hell, I'll just go. And I did.

This is where my second point comes in. The moment I jumped, I immediately thought, "Oh fuck, what have I done?!?!". I swear, right after my feet left the log, my surrounding was EMPTY. I understood, then and there, that people who've committed suicide by jumping off buildings or any high places for that matter, didn't regret the decision when they're almost crashing on the ground, but the moment they felt nothing beneath their feet. It made me not ever want to, in any circumstances, commit suicide by jumping.

This, I did not attempt twice. Kak Rina, however, didn't attempt it at all! HAH! But, you know, this one was fairly safe. Compared to the waterfall-sliding, I think this decision was harder to make, though, because you yourself need to decide WHEN to jump, whereas for the sliding, the current pushes you, plus you can't see where you're going to fall. Jumping off the log, you see the bottom, and you're not confident if you're going to suddenly be light as a feather and hit the stone-wall.

My advice to you peasants seeking adventures out there, you ought to try these kind of things, provided someone else has done it before you! Haha. Really, I could still feel the adrenaline rush even before I went to bed that night.

So, to get back our blood in the right places, here's a picture of the old kinsfolk who could only dip their feet in the river for fear of the cold. They took care of the babies and food at our "camping site" like the makcik-makcik yang kuih tak laku. Hehehe... 

We went back at around 4.30PM. We were all so exhausted, but in good spirits. Luckily we had a tent, so we just changed our outfit in it. Tak yah bilas la, ye dak? Save time baa.

PS, Another thing that bothered us was there was this other couple, who sat on a tree trunk like a Pontianak, eating kuaci (dried melon seeds), and simply threw the shells into the river. It was an excruciating eye-sore. Please lah people, don't do this, okay? Promise? Sayang!

From left : Me, Kak Rina, Zahira, Nurul.

Yours truly,

Non-adrenaline Junkie.

My Respond to Anonymous (because it doesn't fit the comment box).

I think I know who you are. 

Not brave enough to reveal yourself? 

Pathetic.  

1. I do know what I want and definitely know what I should do. What I want is not what YOU THINK I want. That's where you're wrong. Don't talk about things you don't know, sucker. Therefore, it's not called "cheating" as you so put it as I was actually showing my true "ugly colour". Plus, I never blamed the backstabbers for 'what happened'. I'm just pointing out their cruelty.  

2. I know what responsibility is and I definitely know where I stand. What I don't understand is how the backstabbers ASSUMED responsibility to be in charge. What the hell, who gives them the authority to be THE BOSS FROM HELL? As far as I'm concerned, it was supposed to be a teamwork, yet these oh-so-innocent backstabbers segregated work. Without consulting. Were they really the smartest above all? My memory tells me I have been the one acing above those three backstabbers throughout the semester (not to boast).  

3. Cosmetic is just cosmetic. Sweet talker is just sweet talker. There are fine lines between these two and being a hypocrite. I may wear a bit of makeup, but what does that have to do with people's perception towards me? The thicker the makeup, the more innocent I am? And what is sweet talker? Sweet talker is a thing for playboys and playgirls. I don't sweet talk. I TALK NICELY. I am not rude. Being hypocrites have nothing to do with wearing makeup or being nice. I never asked the backstabbers to do my work. I did my part in the end even if it was a bit late (which, in fact isn't actually late, even to the lecturer). You say the backstabbers kept it silent? If that were true, tomorrow would be Armageddon. They had problems with me, but whom should they discuss it with but me? They told everyone else but not me. Tell me how is that fair, how? If they really wanted to be friends with this "hmmmmm", they should've had a "heart-to-heart" talk with me saying I haven't been doing anything, to solve the problem. In reality, the problem started with those backstabbers.  

4. I never kept it silent. I think the backstabbers are SHALLOW DUMB enough to "reveal the truth" to others but to myself. It shows how lowly they are and how narrow-minded. Yes, IT IS QUITE A SHAME. (no pun intended).  

5. I know I will survive now and forever I will. I can live friendless if that's what the backstabbers were hoping for. The ones that are loyal to me will stay loyal because they are not people like the backstabbers. The backstabbers were competitive, and when they finally caught up with me and found they are not worthy to even be on my mind, they sabotaged me. The loyal ones are what you call real friends. They will never do my work so long as we do it together. I know they will have their own life later (hell, even now) and can't so "do my work". I never expect them to comb my hair for me, I never expect them to pull a baby out of my womb. I may not know exactly what kind of friends I'm searching for, what I do know is I do not ever want friends like those backstabbers.  

6. Being lucky may last forever. Fate shall last forever. It's the face that doesn't last forever, my dear Anonymous. But who doesn't have 'the face'? Everyone is beautiful so long as they know how to be (and I'm not talking about putting on makeups). I know what Allah has given me and I'm highly grateful beyond your wildest guess. You're saying I am not using my face "the right way"? Because I have an innocent expression pasted on me permanently? Ugly people (if there are any) can also have innocent expressions. So what, people really judge books by their covers nowadays? I, who stand with dignity, take in no such thing. So let me get this straight; just because I don't make dull, serious and intelligent expressions 24/7, I'm not using my face the right way? Right. 

I wasn't born with the face because I am lucky, love. I was born with the face because it's in my genes (no hard feelings).  

7. Oh the readers won't hate you, Anonymous. The readers might pity you, yes. For being so narrow-minded. This comment space is open for ANYTHING. That's why your comment is still there (and I request you yourself won't delete it once you've read mine). I'm nothing near ashamed of what you have said of me.  

8. Why on earth should I disclose the names of the backstabbers? Why on earth not? I don't intend to disgrace them, I don't intend to discriminate them. I'm merely realizing my situation. 

This my journal. I'm not about to use X, Y, Z or Anggerik, Melur, Orkid. 

Siapa makan cili, dia yang rasa pedas.  

9. I don't like it when people are hating each other. I am not George W. Bush. I don't create wars. I know my readers won't hate the people in the list a.k.a the backstabbers because my readers are mature readers and they can think for themselves. Why would they hate someone just because I do? Logically. Seriously. If you think they are susceptible, then you are sadly misguided. I still have friends who are friends with me, and they knew what had happened between me and the backstabbers, yet they maintained relationships with both sides. Did I protest? No.

Haven't you noticed? Do you have holes for eyes? 

You are single-minded to the point of recklessness.  

Yes, I am ashamed and I do regret for having to be associated with the backstabbers. But then again, they opened my eyes.  

It's normal for bitches to talk shit about others, but it takes a real bitch not to give a shit about it. 

Guess who's the real bitch?  

Curses come home to roost.  

Your English sucks. 

No wonder you didn't get an A.

This is my blog and I write whatever I want in it as I please. 

Go feed yourself some dignity. And English grammar, too, come to that.

2008; The Year That I Hate.

  Year 2008 had been a devastating, calamitous and disastrous year for yours truly. Many events occurred had dropped thorny bombshells into the murky depths of my heart. I’m not saying that there were no happy moments at all or that I don’t count my blessings, it’s just that the amount of catastrophe outweighs those countable-with-fingers happy moments. I’d be glad to share with you all some of those uninvited memories.

 

            It all started on the eve of 2008. About almost a month before that, my boyfriend Nazim went to Dubai to visit his Dad. For the half-year that I had been dating him prior to his departure to United Arab Emirates, we had been seeing each other almost every day! At least (and these are only during desperate times) we’d meet each other once a week. So his absence in my life during the period he was in Dubai had left me empty-hearted as well as a constant empty stomach. I looked almost like Michael Jackson! Cheesy, I know, but that’s the truth. When you’re sad and lonely, no matter how hungry you are, you would actually not have an appetite. Well, maybe not you, but definitely me.

 

            So anyway, I did call him once in awhile using those talk cards. On New Year’s Eve of 2008, I called him. To my surprise (so not) I broke down and cried. I missed him so much you have no idea. So yes, at 12.00AM, 1^st of January 2008, I cried and thus my journey of an unfortunate year begun.

 

            The second, and probably the most sorrowful and depressed event of all, was the death of my 9-year-old cat, Bonnie. Now I can rant on about her for many, many pages as I love her too much, but I shan’t. So, I found out that 9 cat years is equivalent to about 55 human years. That would be pretty old I guess, but I still think she should have and could have lived up to at least 12 years.

 

            She died of liver cancer/Hepatitis B (I dare you not to laugh). I said she could have lived longer because I actually had a chance to save her but I couldn’t and I daresay I have to blame my Mom for this. A year before she died, I brought her to the veterinary. The vet did find there was a lump in her liver, and said she could have surgery to remove it for about RM400. My Mom said NO. So a year after that, the lump grew and made her weak. To add insult to the most painful injury, with me staying in hostel, I couldn’t take care of her and my useless, USELESS maid didn’t f**king take care of her!! Urrgghhh this fact still pisses me off to the core of my bones! She did not bother to change the water or clean the mossy container, which obviously worsened her condition. **screaming my head off**

 

            Bonnie died on January 22^nd, when I was at the hostel. My maid texted me. I called the house and no one picked up. I called my youngest brother, Zaim, and he said my Dad actually requested him not to tell me yet because he didn’t want to bother me studying (as if it would make any difference if I found out later), but Zaim admitted it anyway since I already knew. When I went back home the next day I actually dug up her grave for a last look. Call me crazy, but hey, maybe I am. Surprisingly, she wasn’t stiff yet. I cut out some of her fur for memories (shut up, you). I then told my Dad about the surgery she could’ve had and how my Mom said we shouldn’t have it. He said to my Mom, “So? Isn’t our Bonnie worth that 400?” That’s how meaningful Bonnie is to my family.

 

To top that with a cute little red cherry, months later, the stupid, STUPID Indonesian worker that has been working for our new house on which the land Bonnie was buried underneath, let the bulldozer dug her out and be thrown in the dump unknown to mankind when he f**king knew perfectly well Bonnie was buried at the corner and he swore that place would remain untouched throughout the whole construction. Asshole.

 

Thirdly, I will write this openly because I try to be an honest person at all times and I am not ashamed of myself or at what happened and therefore I will write it here. I had quite an argument - but I did not fall out from my relationship - with my ex-roommate, Siti. It happened on a mildly rainy day. I was in the room after class and I was a bit wet myself from the rain. I was sitting on the bed reading a magazine when Siti banged the door open. I am near-sighted and I couldn’t really see her properly but I could tell she was a bit wet, too. I suppressed a giggle indicating a thought like “oh, you’re wet, too”, and resumed perusing the magazine. Then she threw her bag on the floor, closed the door with another bang, and marched up to her corner. I asked what’s wrong and she ignored me, throughout the day, and the rest of the semester.

 

I then texted Hajar, our mutual friend and one who is close to Siti. I asked her what’s wrong with Siti, she said she didn’t know, and I said why don’t she try cheering Siti up. She came. And Siti talked to her as if nothing happened while hiding from me behind the curtains. I was pretty upset, honestly, because as far as I knew, I didn’t do anything wrong. Hell, I wasn’t the one who made her wet but I was punished for it. Sigh. I was pretty offended because I didn’t know anything for she didn’t bother to tell me. And then, Hajar too didn’t want to tell me. I just found out that Siti felt I shouldn’t have laughed at her. Whatever it was, I did apologize the moment she walked in the door.

 

Later, of course, I found out what actually happened to her (though I shan’t discuss it further). Had she told me what had happened, I would’ve apologized profusely, because I think (and it’s safe to say that many would agree) that it’s normal and not at all offensive to giggle a tiny bit when someone went through what you also went through (in this case, a bit wet from the rain). Of course, when I later found out, it was more than a splash of rain. But in the name of God, how could I have ever known. Personally, at that time, I think she shouldn’t have treated me the way she did. That period was so awkward with her that I couldn’t stay in the same room with her. She wouldn’t talk to me at all and as far as her knowledge is concerned, I still did not know what happened to her, though I did much guesswork that turned out quite accurate.

 

We only called it truce during the last days before term ended. We told our sides of stories and we’re both OKAY now (I think haha. Siti kau jangan marah ye aku tulis kat sini. Nak luah je. Jgn terasa tau!! Since we’re both okay now ^.^)

 

The fourth case would be failing my Law paper. This, I will not say much. Basically, I failed it. The result came out during the short semester (intersession). At first, we found out that there would be no supplementary paper. I, and many others were devastated because the intersession was the last semester for our Diploma, which had only two subjects, and they were the definitely-going-to-pass subjects. So, if we failed only Law, we obviously have to re-sit the paper first before going to Degree. Therefore, if there was no supplementary paper, a semester would be wasted with only one lousy subject. Eventually, things sorted out, I struggled again for the paper during intersession, and thankfully passed. Tu je.

 

The fifth (and the last that I’m going to discuss because now I’m effing hungry) would be the World War III between my ex-friends (Abby, Una & Timmy) and I. I might write another entry about them because it’s pretty long heee. Basically it happened right before our final examinations this year and they totally made my heart and mind hay-wired. As I’m very, very, very, very, very, extremely hungry right about now, I’m just going to say they are basically the most arrogant, bossy, backstabbing bitches I’ve ever had the misery and misfortune to encounter. Need I say more?

 

As you can see, I have been relentlessly pitiful (and basically suck) at writing conclusions. One, because when writing, towards the end I would always get hungry and would abandon all armours and bullets to get food. Two, in this case, this entry has been way too long and I couldn’t have bored you any worse. Three, I simply suck in concluding (well hey, I’m never good in goodbyes either, anyway).

 

Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys and Girls, these are only a scrap of the unfortunate events throughout year 2008. I sure as Hell hope you can tell that these alone are enough to make my hair frizz and fall! Go ahead. Tell me I’m wrong. 

The Memory Keeper's Daughter/Twilight

The day before yesterday, I went out with Nazim and my two cousins; Yaya, aged 9 and Iqa, aged 8 (boy, did we look like a family!). Supposedly, I were to drop off the kids for their art class at Ikano’s da Vinci but unfortunately (yes, quite unfortunate actually) they weren’t informed that there wasn’t any class on that day (being ignorant, my aunt, the kids, Nazim and I didn’t realize it was the Sultan’s birthday, thus, public holiday). So I was stuck with them for my date with Nazim.

The four of us then watched a movie, Twilight. In my opinion, it was a very nice movie, though I can’t yet compare it with the original book, because, you know, most probably for those who’ve read it before watching the movie has had to set the scene in their own imagination and believe their version is way better!

So this led me to wanting to read the Twilight series! Devastatingly, however desperately I want to read the books, I can’t put my money where my mouth is! So my beloved, yes, beloved Nazim has agreed to buy me the first book provided I finish the book I was currently reading; The Memory Keeper’s Daughter. On that particular day, I had only one more chapter to go, anyway. Besides finish reading the book, he asked me to write a summary and review on it! Here! So as I’m such a sucker, I agreed. Here goes…

 

The Memory Keeper’s Daughter is a really, really good read.  I came to read the book upon the advice of my two friends, Dianna and Naquyah. The book is somewhat tragically touching and it shifts you from believing one party to another. The author, Kim Edwards has created a tale of regret and redemption with wisdom and compassion.

It started by introducing a man, Dr. David Henry and his wife, Norah Henry and their interweaving early romantic lives.  She was pregnant, without knowledge of carrying twins. Though he was a doctor, he was not an obstetrician. Circumstances changed when Norah had a premature birth. Dr. David then delivered his own twins.

First came Paul, a perfect and healthy baby boy. Norah passed out and the second child was born. Being a doctor, David noticed immediately that his second child, Phoebe had Down syndrome. It was the year 1964, and children with this syndrome are often sent to institutions as they would normally develop heart complications and die at an early age.

When he was younger, David had a sister who also suffered from Down syndrome and died early. He saw how his mother had grieved over the death of his sister. His intention was to spare Norah from that kind of misery and made a split-second decision when Norah was still unconscious. He asked his nurse, Caroline Gill, to take Phoebe to an institution.

Caroline did, but when she saw how horrible the institution was, she took the child, moved to another city and raised her. When Norah awoke, David wanted to tell her what had happened. Instead of telling Norah the truth like he planned, David told Norah that Phoebe had died.

Throughout their lives together, from this lie, built a wall between David and Norah, David and Paul. His guilt had kept his distant. David had tried time and again to reconcile with Caroline and confront Norah with the truth. He failed to do so each time. However, he did send money from time to time to Caroline for Phoebe. Caroline also sent him photos of Phoebe.

The wall has led them to lead their separate lives. David, constantly with his camera, called the Memory Keeper, tried to capture each moment to make up for what he had lost. Norah ventured herself into a traveling business and had affairs. Paul drains and channels his anger into music. They grew apart day by day and Phoebe grew unexpectedly healthy and happy with Caroline and her husband. Both sides with separate lives as if they are not related in anyway whatsoever with the exception of David and Caroline's correspondence.

In the end, at age 57, David died, taking his darkest secret with him. A few years before, he and Norah had separated. Norah was now engaged to another man and Paul soaring with his career as a musician. Caroline also received the news of David’s death. Later, since the night Norah gave birth to her twins, Caroline went up to her for the first time and told her the truth. Shocking as it was, Norah was furious at first and tried to forgive David. Paul took a job near Phoebe so he could be close with her.

And I don’t know how to conclude this story, therefore, the end.

 

Gosh, writing a review is exhausting and self-mind-blowing! Exciting at first, but towards the end…. bleeh!!! Anyway, that's just a near-rough summary. Honestly, though, the novel is a really good read and you guys should read it! It’s so touching that at times I felt like crying (read: felt). 

For me, I was really mad at first when David told Norah that Phoebe had died. Throughout the read, I realized that his motives were good and he loved Norah enough to not want her to suffer. He really didn’t think that Phoebe would live a long life. In the end, my “menyampahness” shifted to Norah because she is like this really mengada-ngada type of wife! I mean, she cheated, for crying out loud! Gosh, I really despise two-timers. Plus, David did try to tell Norah the truth but Caroline wouldn’t let him meet her nor Phoebe!

 

Anyway, now that the review is written and published, I’m expecting my Twilight book, Nazim!!!!!