Anyhow, was reading back my archives and I chanced upon this. Now that I think back, it's kind of funny and ironic, in a way. Me not wanting to be matchmade and yet, here I am five years later, and already matchmade (by friends no less).

Allah works in mysterious ways. I know now, that I've ended up eating back my own words. Hurhur.

By the way, I saw Kak A a few years after I left *that* school. It happened in that underground mosque in Raffles Place. She looked well, from what I can recollect, and she definitely remembered me.

Oh well. :-)