Do you know what's worth fighting for
When it's not worth dying for?
Does it take your breath away
And you feel yourself suffocating
Does the pain weigh out the pride?
And you look for a place to hide
Did someone break your heart inside
You're in ruins

the yellow magic that changed the world

careless - accidental discovery
the benefit of seemingly chance observation - in a trash

the yellow magic that changed the world - by myrasya munira.

sir. alexander fleming, a scottish researcher at Queen Mary Hospital had discovered penicillin in 1928 after his discovery of lysozymes, an enzyme which has antibacterial properties that is found in tears and mucous.

sir fleming works with group of bacteria staphylococci had frequent contamination from airborne mold. in one incident upon returning from holiday, he found that most of his works were contaminated and discarded them in a tray of lysol. he later realised that there were unusual inhibition zone around the fungus on the cultures that were not submerged in the lysol. from then on, he began investigation and subsequently isolated the extract from the mold and continued working on its antibacterial properties.  he named it penicillin.

penicillin is yellowish in color and called the yellow magic due to its bright yellow color in the culture. the crude extract of penicillin is far more powerful antibacterial compound compared to lysozymes, as it works effectively even at 1,000 times dilution. (tears won't kill bacteria as much - but maybe soothe broken heart)

the discovery of penicillin was the pinnacle of british success in world war II as it saved many comrades from infections related to battlefield wounds. in pre-penicillin world war I, many comrades died from pneumonia and menigitis caused by bacterial infections. it also helped to reduce amputations and death during the war.

according to record, even with 400 million units of penicillin produced in the first five months of 1943, the supply were not enough to treat the patients at that time. therefore by the end of world war II, pharmaceutical companies in the u.s made about 650 billion units per month and this changed the world of medicine tremendously.

senior year

kids, today i have to give a presentation to final year students on literature review and their final year project. they all have in minds that this is going to be mundane, lame talk and full of yadda yadda. to them, attendance is compulsory, listening is just waiting for the lecturer to shut up her mouth. their attitude of college cool and i know enough what i will be doing during the semester will be the things that i will be facing throughout the semester. may God bless my soul.

i wish they realise that their cool is a little different than what i had in mind. and generation gap is actually, the best thing. just like friendster and instagram, nintendo and angry bird (i like flap bird too), or dial up internet to 4G wifi. it may be slower, but we watched FRIENDS not reruns, and giggled all day after watching the fresh prince of bel air. although i am old, alas marshall matters still matters. and still king.

many students cringe when i imposed strict only email policy for work and assignment. i have a life too. you can keep your watsapp to your cool friends and my watsapp is not for you to complain about anything or giving me excuses to be late to class. i.am.not.your.mother.

i too have feelings when it comes to students' email. sometimes i wish i could laugh and die happily looking at the email IDs with flattering, cuties and mind blowing memes. can you just write your name properly for an email, please?

bro, wearing flip flop doesnt make you any cool. you just mark yourself to flop in my class. statistically speaking, there is a reason why slippers is called flip flop.

when people say that nobody cares how you look at school, they lied. i have to read university's policy on dressing code to all students before my first lecture. you are doomed and now i've becoming Gandalf, thou shall not pass.

for today's class on literature review, there is a template that is ready to be downloaded. failure to comply with the formatting will result with i am not going to read your thesis. welcome to real world where my time is precious like diamond.

if this appear on iium confessions, or any confessional dashboard/websites/pintrest i will find you, the way liam neeson did.

30 seconds to mars

the kill (bury me)

my first run

10 years has passed since cheju marathon

of songs

dear daisy,
songs are great metaphors of human's expression and throughgoing nonsense.

time of your life by greenday.

and how broken clock is a comfort to me, when time stand still and frozen everything. 

from where you are.

the song: lifehouse, from where you are.

this is perhaps the best summer since 2006

of trouble and chemical reaction

even the best fall down sometimes,
even the stars refuse to shine

listening to: snow patrol, hundred million suns - if there's a rocket tie me to it



sometimes i wonder, why people like to put their lives so much in trouble?

my i love you daisy

i  love you darling daisy

born on the pi day, may the love goes on forever. until the numbers end. 

walkmen's heaven

\ for the future that never happen

of travel

my life is a story of impenetrable obscurity and against odds. even science is not the total answer that leaves me with the belief that miracles, no matter how inexplicable or unbelievable, are real and can occur without any logical explanation. you may call me a dreamer or fool or any other thing, i traveled through so many lives and, into uncharted terrains, slipped underneath skins and emotions of people, whom i read through fictions and non-fictional characters. in many ways, i am a wanderer, lost in charms of characters in a timeless frame.

i began my story from the great adventures of huckleberry finn, tom sawyer and jim, of the time during entrenched racial aggression against the blacks. i was fourteen when i first read the books by mark twain,  and was at the same age with huck finn. 

i was a librarian during my junior high and spent most of the time during recess at the school library reading books. i guess, if i were a librarian during my high school days, i would have married the guy who shared his story of the curious case of benjamin button today. that's the mystery of life, that circumstances often lead us to other paths and perhaps some day will come across each other again. fifteen years passed, yet we are still strangers over cups of coffee.

perhaps it was the characters that i read during my school days, shaped me into the person i am today. i remember a letter from a senior who was frustrated with my misdemeanor and running antics from school, quoting excerpts from catcher in the rye and great expectations as if i was holden or pip. it was one of the most intelligent love letters i ever received. but i never budge because guys with a guitar and greenday songs are evergreen. just listen to the time of your life. twenty years down the road, it is refreshing and sometimes bring tears to your eyes.

i came across the story of the adventure of marco polo this morning on aljazeera. like great travelers in the past, he was really young, of the age between 17-19. if he lives today, he would be one of my students or like any ordinary guys you've seen around. it was the moment that i realise, that i too, like marco polo. and i should start writing again. 

the longest way run is the shortest way home

dear daisy,

i used to write a lot at nocturnal, it is always my favorite time for writing, as carl bernstein put it: the best time to work (he was once married to nora ephron, my favorite screen writer for many rom coms: which made me think that he appreciated wit and camaraderie in love tales. eversince i wrote ulysses pact in 2013 to return home and mend things, i really had  a long pause.

i want to write about the longest way run, hopes and long for home from my encounter with joyce, murakami and ishiguro writings, colorless myrasya and years of pilgrimage, and stupid things i talked to myself while i was running and thinking of escaping.

clearly, i dont have the niche to write tonight, everything i had in mind was in my notebook and string of letters.

i miss daisy, i long for her in my dreams.

so long and good night.

  

of a lime

my story, of limes and love for my dad

i always placed the limes in a blue bucket at the school department, with a handwritten note inviting everyone to take some of my dad's luscious limes from his garden that bursts into lives. in the card, i always wrote: that when life throws you limes, make cakes or juice.

to me this was never a simple act of generosity, but an ode to my dad's kindness and love: for sharing means caring, so rather than seeing the limes wasted (for we always had abundance) i brought them to school.

i also acknowledged them of my dad's effort in producing organic, seedless limes which is very unique and not available in the market (but in that blue basket).

it is always beautiful day at home, and my favorite have always been the smell of freshly cut grass (after the rain). gardening is dad's passion. i dont think that i could do it, for i may not have the green hands.

a wise lady once told me that a gardener makes a great lover (it was andy's mom actually). a gardener will grow your heart with flowers and love, tend them with great patience and passion. unlike writers, they always keeping score and melancholic all the time.

when dad was away for holiday, he kept reminding me by phone or text to water his trees twice a day, which often fell to deaf ears, as i always busy with other things and forgotten about the task. i told him that was an unexpected virtue of ignorance, whenever he brought up the cases of my laziness and ignorance.

he never wants to let his garden goes into ruin that he always watering them almost every morning and evening, he also hires a gardener to cut grasses at every forthnight.

seeing the trees bear their fruits, it never fail to lift my spirit, i love you dad.