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Gotta resume calculus work soon....
ishhhhhhhhhhh......

I hate streamyx 10 fold.....its killing me slowly

I hate petrol.....it costs too much

I hate my brain....its too screwed up....

I hate what I'm doing now.......must.do.calculus.ugh

Was watching the local news.....and was instantly reminded of a particular someone....the old Ikhsan

Yes the old me....well part of it.....

You see....what I saw on the news....is what you see in the world today.....battles being fought
abroad, political struggle, rebellions, lost lives, and families in turmoil as news of their loved ones' lives being taken away in an instant blink of an eye....

Normal rite? I mean its just so typical of the world today....nothing new....

But what I saw on the news was the old Ikhsan......

The old Ikhsan was a boy of many dreams. The old Ikhsan was a boy who during his free time when he had nothing better to do.....joined his dad watching daily spills of CNN and BBC.....

Pretty sad huh....an 8 year old kid watching international news -.-

What this boy saw was destruction, people crying, buildings falling apart, f-18s flying around in
the sky like birds, tanks abundant in the city like how often you see Kancils on the road in KL.

But what went inside this boy's head was something else....

He saw hope, a change for better....

He was inspired, he knew if HE could change it all.....the wars, the destruction, the politics.

He was inspired by his own dad.....a dad who made many enemies in his time in office because he
stood up for what he believed in, he stood up and defended his dignity, he stood up for what was
right, he stood up for change.

In office he made many enemies, but the trick is outside office, he made many friends.

You name it, ambassadors from Bangladesh, India, France, Spain, Turkey, they all embraced him with open arms. They saw the white in dad, not the black. They respected him.

The Bosnian ambassador treated us like their own family. I remember the many trips to their home, the many kisses the first lady gave me ( trauma I tell you!!!), the many dinners we had together, and the many moments in the living room where Mr.Bosnia would lift Ikhwan (my young bro) and do complete 360s multiple times.I remember the many laughs we shared with them. When dad and Mr.Bosnia met, they weren't ambassadors, they were friends

And this son wanted to be just like him. He dreamed of the office, the office of respect. He dreamed of the meetings, the official dinners, the exchange of views, the cultural respect. He wanted to matter, he wanted to be heard, he wanted to be at the forefront of the line for change,
change for the better.

This young boy wanted to change the depression in the world. He wanted it to end. He wanted the responsibility. He wanted change.

He wanted to be like his father. Like him he wanted the ability to tie knots of friendship between
countries, and build a stature of respect, a stature where one day people halfway around the world will reflect upon me and say, "I like this chap, he was a man of his word, and he was from Malaysia".

Yes. The old Ikhsan had only 1 dream....ambassador of Malaysia. Sure you might've heard it sooo many times from others. For them the word ambassador means cool, big shot n bla bla bla. But for me, it meant that I could harness the ability for change, the ability to make you matter to the cause, the ability to make you heard, all for a better tomorrow.

This was the old Ikhsan, a small caricature of Charlie Wilson.

P.S: God has a plan for us all. He brings us back down when we shine highest, and he gives lifts us high into the clouds when we're low. All you need is a lil bit of faith.....