It's 2.41am; the morning is cool & I'm half-dressed and already in bed.

I closed my eyes; having taken a beating from the Blood chapter, I'm in dire need of sleep.

But I can't.

I can't stop worrying about you Malaysia.




Not when racism has become the trump card for those in power.

The weapon of choice for swaying the opinions of millions.




Wake up Malaysia;

because I sure as hell can't sleep.
La sel de la vie; if my rusty French does not betray me translates into:

"The salt of life" - French Idiom


Its life's lil' quirks & oddities that when it first strikes, will daze, amaze or maybe confuse you. You whip out a camera, a point-and-shoot or a DSLR, doesn't matter. You capture the moment & you store it.

So when the mental copy of the event has been eroded by the sands of time, the photos you've taken will etch a smile on your face; reminding us of the random weirdness life has in store for us at every turn of the corner.



After all, we're all travelers in this life.

La sel de la vie;

It is what makes this life worth every sweat, tear and blood shed; it is also what makes every victory, triumph and successful endeavour tastes just as sweet. It is the spice of life.

As many of you've already known, I've been living in Manipal, India for the past 2 years chasing my MBBS. Such a wild country, and with it has given me many many memories.

The good, the bad, and the ugly.

The following are just some random snippets of my life so far in India.



On the first day I was in this country,

I passed by Iron Man on his way to the pasar.


And every day,

I had to come home to this.

Nooh Sainorudin, my charming roommate of 3 years


When it was time when I couldn't put off studying any longer, I commit the hours & hit the books,

And came out looking like this.


I needed some fresh air, so I stepped out of my house,

And saw this.

It was a civic-awareness poster reminding the kids to stay in school.


I stepped in the local gift-shop to have a look at the trinkets for the family back home. The Uncle recommended me their biggest-seller,

'Deligent' Cattle & Lovely Boy.

Who would win in a fight with Batman you say? My money is on the Lovely Boy. Aauumm!


All this made me hungry.


So I ducked into one of the local eateries,


I didn't feel like having a 'chicken Sewerage pizza'



SandWITCHES? Nope, nenek kebayan berpasir won't hit the spot either.



Hmm, Indian Hot & Exotic Mexicans?

I summoned the waiter promptly and asked if these two new flavours charge by the hour or by session?

I'm not done yet, or it's better said that India is not yet done with me. I've still another 7+ months; and to Gandhi & the gang,

I say bring it on.

So at last, the imaginary has come into being; months of desire has come to fruition and thus, a blog to call my own, is born.

So, Talking Shop...
What does it mean?

I'll tell you friends.

For months I've entertained the idea of setting up my own blog. You know, for those days when you just feel like talking, but a willing audience is scarce (or hiding). Or maybe you do find some but you cant seem to be able to captivate them long enough with your spiel to get past the Mukaddimah and into the 1st Chapter of your rant.

"That Hezry, all he does is talk shop man..."

I don't actually, but you know, imaginary dialogs pop up in my head on a whim.

It's not like I asked for it.

Talking shop; www.usingenglish.com says:
If you talk shop, you talk about work matters, especially if you do this outside work.

We all do it man, we do it because it's our nature. It's been hard-coded into our genes; we talk about the things that affects us, the things that are in & around us. Things that are us.

Technically I'm not a 9 to 5'er, I don't contribute to the labour pool & I don't punch-out and head to the nearest Karaoke bar or Redbox.

Like this bloke right here.

I'm just a student. That being said, I'll tend to talk about my day at 'work'; and since I'm living abroad I don't actually really come home, because 'home' is a 5-hour plane ride & 3 buffalo-cart rides away.

My 'work' spills into my life.

So if it's fine with you, we'll talk about more than how many times Yeshwant (King of all Pharmacology lecturers) nodded his head in class today (And you thought only football players have signature moves?).

So feel free to contribute, comment, and critique.

Because I have a dream.

We Malaysians (yes you Malaysia!) do not read enough. We do not speak-up when it's needed.

But don't get me wrong, we are a nation chock full of critiques & arm-chair politicians. Any random kopitiam will provide you with a selection that puts the Pasar Borong to shame (our gossip-mongers outnumbers the fish-mongers).

We as a nation do not channel our thoughts in a proper way, we talk among ourselves too much & dont bring it up to the level of a general consensus. Maybe that's why some of the things that has happened in our country have managed to evade persecution, no matter how great its moral-bending properties were.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.



Well, with all that's been said & done,

Let's talk shop.

The Reading Habit

An Introuction

Hello & welcome, from me to you.

Talking Shop:
If you talk shop, you talk about work matters, especially if you do this outside work.

But anything goes really.

Hope it's as pleasing on your eyes as it was for me typing it out.

Thank you & enjoy.

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Shop Talker No.1

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Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia
Doctor by profession, but generally very lazy in real life. Hailing from Kuala Lumpur, and with the exception of a few years, I'm mostly made in Malaysia. Currently serving in Kota Kinabalu, Sabah (Malaysia) as a Neurosurgery Medical Officer, discovering and enjoying this blessed 'Land Below the Wind' since 2012. Let's talk shop.

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