“I wish I wasn’t so worried about everything, but the truth is I am” - Dade
“I am really worried about my weight because my BMI isn’t balanced” - Afiq
“I am worried about retirement” - Lowell
“I am just worried about my mum worrying less”– Pretty
If you have never worried, it’s okay if you close this book at this point. Goodbye and enjoy the
rest of what you will miss in the pages ahead.
If not, let’s ride on.
My chat with Worry continued…
W: Fash, take it or leave it, every human being needs me to survive.
Fash: My friend, what do you mean, when did you become oxygen and water that everyone
needs you to survive?
W: I have a lot of friends that write just like the four sentences at the beginning of this page.
These sentences are tweets from four real people from different places with their hands up,
declaring how they feel about me. Can’t you see that I’m so viral and have many fans around the
world?
Fash: No, I can’t see that.
W: Ahahah. Have you suddenly forgotten about the more than 6000 tweets you captured in the
last 20 days about how often I accompany people during the day?
There is this guy who failed just three courses last semester and failed another four, this
semester. Generally, he reads his eyes dim but in the exam hall his memory goes blank like a
formatted hard drive. Isn’t that painful?
But, for the care I have for people like him, he deserves my friendship, so we got together. I am
his closest friend now.
I will give you three more examples about why many more people had to befriend me to survive.
Fash: Please, go ahead.
W: Jasper is an aspiring entrepreneur, the first time he stood for his business pitch, he struggled
with wet palms and his chin quivered like the chain of a moving tandem, the eyes of his audience
scared him to death. She became my friend ever after. Ahahaha, am I not so caring?
Fash: Yes, you are.
W: Fash, don’t forget the graduate down your street who always feels lost and stuck. He’s got no
job, he has read many self-help books and gulped down many motivational tapes, but his flints of
problem didn’t make any flinch. He knows that Prayer is dead afterall. So we’ve been friends for
a while.
While Prayer won't make himself more obvious to the people who really need him, I don’t slack,
I step in. I live in the lush bedroom of the wealthy, at the same time with a bunch of folks who
beg on the highway for their livelihood and many more that sleep under careless bridges.
Of course, the rich are getting richer, the strong keep oppressing the weak, the limbs of the
cripple are getting feebler and the poor are getting poorer. I don’t discriminate; both the rich and
poor are my allies. I am their special consultant at night and their good friend during the day.
One more example, then I will tell you more about my closest friends that win my heart all day
long.
Fash, there is something that happens during festivities. People plan. Isn’t it?
They buy the dress and pay for the venue; they find the moderator, hire the disc jockey and
arrange for refreshments. One thing you don’t see is that, without being my friend, those plans
don’t usually work out. So, the organizer will secretly consult me and inform me about the
program. Then, I will be with the organizer throughout the program just to put him on his toes
because things usually go wrong.
That is why program organizers never sit until the program is finished; they are always up and
running, it is because I am on their neck, pinching their butt and stroking their abdomen. Shit
happens, so I help them muddle through crisis.
Fash: What? You do all that?
W: Yes, I help everyman to see all the things that can go wrong. Now, you can see the extent of
my love and care for you guys.
Fash: Oh my goodness! Okay, good. Tell me more about your closest friends whom you talked
about at your first visit.
W: Yes, right away. Their names are Anger, Fear and Pain. We spend every blessed day
together. I remember you had a wonderful trip with them 10 years ago. I guess you know how
important they are in helping man survive.
Fash: I had a trip with them? I don’t think so.
W: Can you remember the incident that got you embarrassed before more than 600 people?
Fash: Oh, Yes. Are you referring to the 12 strokes that changed my life forever? Do you mean
they were there that day?
W: They were there. While all your friends couldn’t control their tears, my gentlemen were there
loving you, they gave you a huge smile and an applause.
Fash: Wait, I don’t understand. That incident made me angry, it killed my morale, it busted my
integrity and I felt pained.
W: Yeah, you just mentioned the names of my friends again! I would like you to share again
what happened that day, then I will point out to you how my friend kick-started a new life in you
after the incident.
Fash: Okay,
That day, I left the house on a beautiful dawn like today, alive, alert and feeling terrific, off to
school. Had I known that it would turn out to become a day hard to forget and a day of
uncontrollable tears, I would have disappeared.
I was dressed up, looking cute and fine, in a white shirt on a navy blue pair of trousers and a
lovely short tie. I bounced like bubbles of lather from a good soap solution. I graced the pathway
like virgin okra smoothly riding on a grater.
8.5 hours into the day, I found myself on a podium--an unforgettable platform, not for a public
address, but to be flogged with 12 huge strokes before a 600+ procession.
For what? Unbeknownst to me, a forgery was done in my full name!
Ah, no explanation could suffice the strokes, no shout of past integrity could save me and no
testimony of my uprightness brought the miracle I dearly desired.
I cried my heart out, my body shook like it had jumped out of its casement, my hands were cold,
my skin bled, I longed for revenge, I felt rage within, I was cut through the centre. Aaaargh!
But, within 1 week, the Truth didn't slack; it came running to my rescue. It gently cleared the
mess, but the scars of the strokes remained.
Ah, but in 1 year, I went back to that same podium celebrated to lead that whole 600+
procession for a period of 12 months.
...the story continues!
W: Fash, you captured the real story beautifully. You were angry, the pain poured hot chilli
down your throat and the feeling nudged you in search of the truth. It gave you an opportunity to
meet fear ever after without fear. It has made you to be able to empathize and help others to see
the goodness of fear, pain and anger.
Fash: I agree with you.
W: A lot of people fight me with countless Prayers; some fight me with being busy, then they
suddenly breakdown; when they are done with all of that busy schedules, they’ll still come back
and dine with me.
Some more decided to kill themselves when they couldn’t get their hands into my heart. They
don’t know that all those tips and tricks don’t work on me. I am there to make their life more
beautiful, but they had never seen how and why I work.
Fash please, pass me the glass and let’s take a brief recess. I can’t wait to see you again to show
you how all these make life more beautiful for humanity.
Fash: I can’t wait to hear from you again.
My hearty cheers dear friend…
“I am really worried about my weight because my BMI isn’t balanced” - Afiq
“I am worried about retirement” - Lowell
“I am just worried about my mum worrying less”– Pretty
If you have never worried, it’s okay if you close this book at this point. Goodbye and enjoy the
rest of what you will miss in the pages ahead.
If not, let’s ride on.
My chat with Worry continued…
W: Fash, take it or leave it, every human being needs me to survive.
Fash: My friend, what do you mean, when did you become oxygen and water that everyone
needs you to survive?
W: I have a lot of friends that write just like the four sentences at the beginning of this page.
These sentences are tweets from four real people from different places with their hands up,
declaring how they feel about me. Can’t you see that I’m so viral and have many fans around the
world?
Fash: No, I can’t see that.
W: Ahahah. Have you suddenly forgotten about the more than 6000 tweets you captured in the
last 20 days about how often I accompany people during the day?
There is this guy who failed just three courses last semester and failed another four, this
semester. Generally, he reads his eyes dim but in the exam hall his memory goes blank like a
formatted hard drive. Isn’t that painful?
But, for the care I have for people like him, he deserves my friendship, so we got together. I am
his closest friend now.
I will give you three more examples about why many more people had to befriend me to survive.
Fash: Please, go ahead.
W: Jasper is an aspiring entrepreneur, the first time he stood for his business pitch, he struggled
with wet palms and his chin quivered like the chain of a moving tandem, the eyes of his audience
scared him to death. She became my friend ever after. Ahahaha, am I not so caring?
Fash: Yes, you are.
W: Fash, don’t forget the graduate down your street who always feels lost and stuck. He’s got no
job, he has read many self-help books and gulped down many motivational tapes, but his flints of
problem didn’t make any flinch. He knows that Prayer is dead afterall. So we’ve been friends for
a while.
While Prayer won't make himself more obvious to the people who really need him, I don’t slack,
I step in. I live in the lush bedroom of the wealthy, at the same time with a bunch of folks who
beg on the highway for their livelihood and many more that sleep under careless bridges.
Of course, the rich are getting richer, the strong keep oppressing the weak, the limbs of the
cripple are getting feebler and the poor are getting poorer. I don’t discriminate; both the rich and
poor are my allies. I am their special consultant at night and their good friend during the day.
One more example, then I will tell you more about my closest friends that win my heart all day
long.
Fash, there is something that happens during festivities. People plan. Isn’t it?
They buy the dress and pay for the venue; they find the moderator, hire the disc jockey and
arrange for refreshments. One thing you don’t see is that, without being my friend, those plans
don’t usually work out. So, the organizer will secretly consult me and inform me about the
program. Then, I will be with the organizer throughout the program just to put him on his toes
because things usually go wrong.
That is why program organizers never sit until the program is finished; they are always up and
running, it is because I am on their neck, pinching their butt and stroking their abdomen. Shit
happens, so I help them muddle through crisis.
Fash: What? You do all that?
W: Yes, I help everyman to see all the things that can go wrong. Now, you can see the extent of
my love and care for you guys.
Fash: Oh my goodness! Okay, good. Tell me more about your closest friends whom you talked
about at your first visit.
W: Yes, right away. Their names are Anger, Fear and Pain. We spend every blessed day
together. I remember you had a wonderful trip with them 10 years ago. I guess you know how
important they are in helping man survive.
Fash: I had a trip with them? I don’t think so.
W: Can you remember the incident that got you embarrassed before more than 600 people?
Fash: Oh, Yes. Are you referring to the 12 strokes that changed my life forever? Do you mean
they were there that day?
W: They were there. While all your friends couldn’t control their tears, my gentlemen were there
loving you, they gave you a huge smile and an applause.
Fash: Wait, I don’t understand. That incident made me angry, it killed my morale, it busted my
integrity and I felt pained.
W: Yeah, you just mentioned the names of my friends again! I would like you to share again
what happened that day, then I will point out to you how my friend kick-started a new life in you
after the incident.
Fash: Okay,
That day, I left the house on a beautiful dawn like today, alive, alert and feeling terrific, off to
school. Had I known that it would turn out to become a day hard to forget and a day of
uncontrollable tears, I would have disappeared.
I was dressed up, looking cute and fine, in a white shirt on a navy blue pair of trousers and a
lovely short tie. I bounced like bubbles of lather from a good soap solution. I graced the pathway
like virgin okra smoothly riding on a grater.
8.5 hours into the day, I found myself on a podium--an unforgettable platform, not for a public
address, but to be flogged with 12 huge strokes before a 600+ procession.
For what? Unbeknownst to me, a forgery was done in my full name!
Ah, no explanation could suffice the strokes, no shout of past integrity could save me and no
testimony of my uprightness brought the miracle I dearly desired.
I cried my heart out, my body shook like it had jumped out of its casement, my hands were cold,
my skin bled, I longed for revenge, I felt rage within, I was cut through the centre. Aaaargh!
But, within 1 week, the Truth didn't slack; it came running to my rescue. It gently cleared the
mess, but the scars of the strokes remained.
Ah, but in 1 year, I went back to that same podium celebrated to lead that whole 600+
procession for a period of 12 months.
...the story continues!
W: Fash, you captured the real story beautifully. You were angry, the pain poured hot chilli
down your throat and the feeling nudged you in search of the truth. It gave you an opportunity to
meet fear ever after without fear. It has made you to be able to empathize and help others to see
the goodness of fear, pain and anger.
Fash: I agree with you.
W: A lot of people fight me with countless Prayers; some fight me with being busy, then they
suddenly breakdown; when they are done with all of that busy schedules, they’ll still come back
and dine with me.
Some more decided to kill themselves when they couldn’t get their hands into my heart. They
don’t know that all those tips and tricks don’t work on me. I am there to make their life more
beautiful, but they had never seen how and why I work.
Fash please, pass me the glass and let’s take a brief recess. I can’t wait to see you again to show
you how all these make life more beautiful for humanity.
Fash: I can’t wait to hear from you again.
My hearty cheers dear friend…