3 Short Stories – The 3F Approach, The good thing about being wrong and my strange brother’s gifts

The 3F Approach

The fuel in my car is running low. Must get to a pump station soon. During my student days, my modus operandi when it comes to fuel usage is called The 3F Approach. The first “F” stands for fuel. Once that runs out, we rely on the second “F” which is the fumes. And when both fuel and fumes have been thoroughly exhausted we simply rely on the third and final “F” beyond which there is no other recourse – Faith. So the 3F stands for Fuel – Fumes – Faith in that order.

I think my car stopped running only once in my life due to an utter absence of carbon fuel. I remember bitterly commenting, “This is probably because someone in this car is lacking in faith.” A friend in the back seat replied, “I don’t know about that, but it is obvious to me that your car is lacking in fuel, you Scrooge! Do you really have to wait until the very last drop of oil before you refuel?”

The Good Thing About Being Wrong

Yup, I like being wrong. Especially when it comes to feeling angry or bitter. I have a short fuse and I sometimes explode. But I don’t explode in front of the person who allegedly hurt me, but mumble curses and expletives under my breath, just loud enough for Heche to hear. Poor girl. But sometimes (many times, actually), I find out very soon after that I misjudged the person whom only moments ago I was fuming mad with. I do feel a little sheepish and embarrassed by my sotto voce outburst. But in such cases, I prefer to be in the wrong than right. I prefer to find myself the villain, than to be under the impression that someone else was wrong and somehow hurt and treated me unfairly.

Of course it would be even better if I did not lose my temper to begin with. Hehehe. 

My Strange Brother’s Gifts

Well, my brother is back from Jordan with many interesting stories and insights into the Jordanians, the Horseback Archery competition (hands down the Hungarians were the best), and of course King Abdullah II of Jordan, The Caliph of Islam. But that is for another time, now I just wanna talk about the stuffs that my brother brought back from his trip.

First, Abang Cik (for that is what I call him, his name is Saiful) said he bought me an old hard cover book (printed in the 70s) about the infamous Beria – the sinister, mad, murderous, political apparatchik of Stalin. When he told me that, an unuttered thought crossed my mind, “You went all the way to Jordan, The legendary land of the Prophets, Saints and Companions and you bought a book about a malevolent psychopath of the Stalinist regime?”

Don’t get me wrong. I was looking forward to reading the book. But later that night there was a furtive knock on the door, and my brother came in and in his hand was a brass pocket watch. He said, “This is for you. Thank you for everything.” Whereupon he suddenly hugged and kissed me.

What a strange fellow my brother is. But I am the one who should be thankful. Because I know that he bought the pocket watch for himself, but decided to give it to me.

Have a lovely day, sunshine. A lovely, brotherly day.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way