Two Screens, One Opinion

Please click the photo above to play the daily videoThe weekend finally arrived, though it took the long way round. Saturday began with morning rounds and clinic, as it often does, only busier than usual. Colleagues were away, and their share of the morning landed with me. It’s an old arrangement, and a fair one: someday they’ll cover for me. Still, there’s a particular feeling to working on a weekend that was meant to be yours. You get on with it anyway, and you watch the clock with slightly more interest than usual.

The reward was lunch at Rebung, and it was a proper reward. There’s a generosity to food like that, the kind that doesn’t believe in modest portions and doesn’t apologise for it. I went back once more than was strictly sensible. I left with a very full stomach and no regrets, which is the best way to leave any table.

Then Mak was off to Bukit Antarabangsa to spend the night there. She’d been with us for a while, and the drive over had that slightly quiet quality all handovers have, even the temporary ones. The house would be a little emptier tonight. She’d be back soon enough, but you notice the gap all the same.

From there to Mid Valley, where Hooga was holding an event and my new iPhone Duo was waiting for collection. Or rather, it was waiting behind a long queue of other people waiting for theirs. There’s no dignified way to stand in a line for a phone. Everyone pretends to be casual about it, and nobody is. So I did the sensible thing and went shopping first, letting the queue shrink without me in it.

When the phone was finally in my hands, I had the reaction I’d half expected. It’s clever, no question. It’s beautifully made, and it’s very pleased with what it can do. But I still prefer the old iPhone form factor. There was something honest about a phone that was just one shape and stayed that way. Perhaps that’s simply loyalty to what I’m used to. Perhaps I’m becoming the sort of person who says “they don’t make them like they used to” about something that came out three years ago. Either way, the Duo and I will need some time to get to know each other.

The evening ended with United, caught up on later, as is becoming the custom. Watching a match after the fact has its own odd tension. It’s already been played, the result is already decided somewhere, and yet you sit there hoping as if it isn’t. Supporting United trains you for exactly that kind of optimism.

So: a borrowed morning, an overly generous lunch, Mak off for the night, a new phone with an old opinion attached, and football to finish. The weekend took its time getting here, but it’s here now.

The Day That Changed Its Mind

Please click the photo above to play the daily videoThe plan was simple: do nothing. Second day of Raya, nowhere to be, no obligations pulling at the sleeve. The kind of day you sketch out in your head as a long, unbroken stretch of idleness. But days, as a rule, don't much care for plans.

Word came through that there had been a death — these things arrive without warning, as they always do, rearranging the shape of a morning in an instant. Abang Razak and I made our way to the mosque for the prayers. There's not much to say about these moments that isn't already understood. You go, you stand, you offer what you can, which is mostly just your presence. The ritual holds you when words fall short.

We were finished by lunchtime, and the pivot from solemnity to sustenance felt natural enough. We headed to Rebung, which was mercifully quiet — school holidays keeping the usual crowds at bay. There's a particular pleasure in Rebung when it's not heaving: you can actually taste the food rather than simply survive the queue. The spread was as generous as ever, and we ate with the unhurried appreciation of people who'd earned their lunch through an unexpectedly full morning.

The afternoon belonged entirely to the sofa. I napped with the kind of commitment that borders on athletic, only to surface later with a headache that suggested I'd perhaps overdone the horizontal. There's a cruel irony in sleeping so hard you wake up feeling worse. The body has a strange sense of humour sometimes.

By evening, though, things had recalibrated. Dinner at Gardens was the gentle reset the day needed — pleasant surroundings, good food, the headache retreating somewhere behind the second glass of water. Meanwhile, Anita had shifted into preparation mode for Julia's visit next week, which involves a particular kind of domestic energy that I've learned to observe from a respectful distance. Cushions get repositioned. Surfaces get scrutinised. Standards are applied that I didn't know existed.

Later, we settled in for a film — Mercy, which turned out to be a decent way to close a day that had covered rather more ground than anticipated. From mosque to movie, via Rebung and a regrettable nap. Not the day of pure relaxation we'd envisioned, but something richer for its detours.

Clinic tomorrow, which means the holiday is officially folding itself away. But there's no complaint in that. The break did what breaks are supposed to do — it broke things up, shifted the rhythm, let the ordinary fall away for a few days. Back to it, then.