Of Happiness and Valiums

“Izyan… these aren’t orgasms in the mouth anymore. My tongue is climaxing.”

That’s how good Izyan’s Apple Crumble Cheesecake is.

She was bored one weekend when she decided to try out something new. Her half-lidded eyes and listless hands were shuffling in tune to the muffled drones of the TV in the background while she eyed the multi-coloured cake creations and array of ingredients in the recipe book before her. The multitude of designs that flawlessly envisioned a pastry chef’s true artistry, bedecked in magnificent colours that told a flowing story of ideas evolving into grand creations were met with nonchalance.

I would’ve been salivating all over the book.

Then, her hands abruptly stopped when an intriguing title caught her eye. It was simple enough, no titles of grandeur or haughty foreign name (which sometimes seem random) to accompany the pastry. It read;

‘Apple Crumble Cheesecake.’

Spurring her inactive gears to life, she turned off the soporific voice of the TV and hastened to the kitchen where to me, the wonderful and edible magical things happen. She was hit by crushing waves of inspiration and the need to bake was overwhelming.

Not that I’m complaining.

Soon enough, all the baking peripherals were before her. She was set out for war and the ammunition was cake ingredients.

Meanwhile, deep in the outskirts of civilisation we call UiTM, I was bumping my head against the wall repeatedly, more numbed by the throbbing pain of boredom than anything else. I had little clue I was to experience a bout of intense pleasure from a non-obscene orifice.

Hell yeah.

Monday came about and I was invited to stay another night over in her room in Seroja. I took my laptop along so we can enjoy musicals like Dreamgirls, Grease and Hairpsray heehee badass movies with plenty of explosions, illogical death tolls and jugs the size of balloons on the point of bursting. The night seemed fun and promising, but whatever preparation I took, I was ill-prepared for the onslaught of euphoria in the appearance of (what we shall now refer to as) THE ULTIMATE CAKE OF ALL TIMEZZ (TUCOATz).

“Surprise! I bought cheesecake!” She excitedly exclaimed, reminding me of a pre-teen bragging about her latest Nick Carter poster. If that really happened, I thought, it’d sure be fun to have a loaded gun.

“Oh.” It seemed nothing new, so my lack of enthusiasm was rudely apparent.

“Apple Crumble Cheesecake!” This time, her lips creased into a sly smile.

“OH?”

Almost in slow-motion, she opened the lid of a worn-looking Tupperware while my eyes glistened in childlike anticipation. True enough, the old container was as misleading as Britney Spears’ twin silicones because inside it hid an image of pastry splendour, baking magnificence, cake beauty and all those words of English rule-breaking praises. An (imaginary) halo of resplendence shone over the TUCOATz, augmenting its appearance and accelerating my speed in salivating.

Surreptitiously wiping my pool of crystal clear saliva onto Balqis’ bedsheets, Izyan handed me a fork to have the honour of being the first to taste it.

…Okay fine, so I literally grabbed the cake and fork from her hands. Watcha gonna do ‘bout that, huh punk?

Anyway, elated by the extension of such an honour, I took a HUGEASS CHUNK delicate bite, wanting to savour TUCOATz.

The moment my mouth closed around it, I felt an explosion of taste. My taste buds melted at the slight sourness of the apple, the sweetness of the cake, the rich creaminess of the cheese. It was crumbly and moist as I bit into the crunchiness of the almonds. Just lightly, I tasted the zest of lemon juice and the inexplicable taste of cinnamon, the ingredients Izyan added as an afterthought. I sighed pleasantly as every taste danced distinctively, yet harmoniously on my tongue.

All in one bite.

And (this time, I’m not joking or being sarcastic), I teared.

I DIDN’T CRY *COUGH*.

Just that ONLY ONE OR TWO tears started materialising out of its own accord.

Izyan, touched by my wordless appreciation, took a picture to commemorate the moment and thanked me from the bottom of her heart.

“What the hell. You’re crying?? Shit I’m taking a picture. Hahaha here’s something to make fun of!”

Die, bitch. If only your cakes weren’t so orgasmic.

THE END.

UiTM has its fair share of social stigmas. For one, it’s made of one part Malay, one part racism and one part Malay.

Did I also forget to mention it’s also one part Malay?

I took my official university acceptance with a pinch of salt. I never thought I’d end up in a university with statistically lower than average standards, abysmal achievements and generally sub-par students. The strongest resentment I have against UiTM is proven by this conversation I had with someone in the very first semester;

“Man, don’t you guys feel lucky?”

“What for?”

“Well, you guys managed few measly A’s for your SPM, and you get accepted regardless.”

“I got 4 A’s, I deserve my placement.”

“Yeah well, I have plenty of Chinese friends getting straight A’s, even A1’s, with impressive co-curricular records and they’re forced to fork out their own cash to get into private universities.”

“Your point is?”

“Well you guys can hardly compare to them, and yet you get to be in a University where we pay a meagre RM500 for one semester, subsidised food, living accommodation and all these other perks. The only thing we have over these people is that we’re Malays.”

“So? They’re foreign people. Who asked them to be in this country?”

“…What?”

“This is our country, and they just menumpang. Who gives them the right to complain over something they don’t deserve in the first place?”

“…”

“Malaysia is for the Malays. Us. This is our right, not theirs. If they don’t like it, then they should just get out.”

This is apparently, general consensus. I knew there was something wrong about an all-bumiputera University, but I didn’t expect such insolence and ignorance. It was at this time I doubted my decision to reject the offer for Mechanical Engineering under Petronas. The course might suck, but at least I would’ve been around more educated people.

The problem is essentially, the people.

The mentality.

The culture.

I had no other problems with UiTM. I quote Irene; “First-class facilities, third-class mentality.”

You see, you guys might not be aware but there are a lot of perks in UiTM Shah Alam, despite it being the cheapest public university. Government subsidised, we’re talking about major spendings on architectural aesthetics, practical assistance to students that naturally don’t come cheap, significant allocation on study grants, up-to-date technology and the lot.

Here are my favourites:

• UiTM Shah Alam is HUGE.

• Decent transport system, with Rapid KL and UiTM busses having internal and external routes within the main campus.

• Practical and very well-maintained facilities. We have an indoor swimming pool, several gyms, comfortably-sized clinics with free medical and dental service (we don’t even pay for the prescribed medicine). There’s the world-class library and updated computer labs, award-winning buildings, art galleries, restaurants, a hotel (run by students) and so much more.

• UiTM plays host to plenty of national competitions, speeches by renowned people and copious national events. Even celebrities visit now and then and I’ve spotted a few in Menara SAAS’ cafe.

• Food subsidy and free in-campus accommodation for those eligible.

• Free Wi-Fi for most colleges, lecture halls, selected buildings and the likes. Under leisure traffic, I’ve gotten download speeds of up to 1000kb/s.

There’s also the man-made lake that set the government back one million and the award-winning waterfall designed by some foreign architect that cost the University two million.

Don’t ask.

Anyway, now in my third semester, as mentioned in my previous posts, I’m finally at peace. I was initially confused, but I know why now.

I’ve started to truly love my friends here.

Against all odds, they’ve charmed me and cracked my introversion. They’ve proven themselves unlike the branded stereotypes around. I’m just frustrated that I’ve only realised how much I actually like them in the third semester, when the scholarship offer to UK was granted. If I don’t fail any CAT papers, I’d probably start a new semester in London this September.

I don’t want to leave them.

Why must it be now?

PS: Another reason to love UiTM: I’m in the Dean’s list! And, I found out few days ago from an annoying classmate that retarded Magician Guy is having a semester break. That means he’s not around. One less douche bag in UiTM, and I can’t be anymore happier. :D

I wrote that last week and was meaning to post it, but there’s a new update!

I’M NOT GOING TO LONDON!

My Mak Long called few days before and told me, seeing as the college I was assigned to was not a well-reputed one or anything (actually, it’s pretty crappy), then I should just not go. Studying in the centre of London would be cool and all, but if it’s at a crappy college then why bother, right?

The lecturers would be happy, seeing that they sat me down and gave a two hour persuasive talk on not leaving too soon. My uncle would be happy because he’d rather I stay in UiTM as well. I’m happy because I get to visit Australia by the end of this year with my favourite cousin. My friends were happy when I told them. Izyan would be happy because… well I would be happy because I get to eat more free blueberry cheese tarts and cheesecake that Izyan would bake.

Though… I later found out from Izyan that she and the seniors were planning a surprise farewell party for me at Sungai Gabai.

Damn.

Should’ve told them after the party.