omar rary

The moment I woke up, my brain refused to function. It felt like my head was still plugged into the charger but hadn’t reached 5%. I sat on the edge of the bed, staring into the void like a frozen laptop. Then suddenly— growllllll . My stomach made a noise so loud it sounded like a rock concert inside me. I swear there was a crocodile in there, holding a microphone, singing: “Feed me! Feed me nowww!” Okay, so clearly I was hungry. But here’s the problem—I didn’t feel like eating. Just the thought of pancakes made me imagine them dropping into my stomach like bricks. But not eating? That felt like a crime too. It was like my organs started arguing. Stomach: “Give me food!” Brain: “Shut up. You’ve got too many calories stored already. Try fasting, bro.” And there I was—stuck in the middle like a hostage in a Netflix drama. I walked to the kitchen. On the counter were some cold leftovers—rice and beans from last night. I stared at them and thought, “Nope. Those aren’t beans. Those are ...

“If you overthink a problem, the problem only grows bigger.” It sounds simple, but in reality, it’s terrifying. Imagine your table fan suddenly stops working. A normal person would say, “Let me check if the plug is loose.” But if you are the thinking type , tragedy begins immediately. You start: “Oh no! What if the fan is dead? If it’s dead, I’ll have to call a mechanic. The mechanic will say the coil is burned. Replacing the coil will cost at least a thousand bucks. If I spend that thousand, my monthly budget will collapse. If my budget collapses, my wife will get angry. If my wife gets angry, I’ll have to go to the market alone. If I go to the market alone, I’ll definitely fight with the shopkeeper over prices. If I fight with the shopkeeper, there will be a police case. And if there’s a police case—straight to jail!” So, starting from an innocent little fan, you end up in court within five minutes. That’s the real disaster of overthinking. And the funniest part? In the end, you d...

There was a time when creativity required sweat, patience, and a few sleepless nights. If you wanted to be a poet, you had to actually read poetry. If you wanted to paint, you had to at least buy a brush. Now? You just open an app, type three words, and voilà—instant masterpiece. The whole world has suddenly turned into a giant talent show where everyone is a contestant. The taxi driver leans back and says, “Boss, yesterday I wrote three poems with AI while waiting for passengers.” The tea-stall owner proudly declares, “This morning I made a Hollywood-level movie poster with AI.” Funny thing is, neither of them has ever written a line of poetry or drawn a single stick figure in their lives. But today, everyone is a “creator.” It’s a magical new planet where you might not have money for lunch, but you can still post on Instagram: “I’m a billionaire entrepreneur” —because AI said so. Meanwhile, real artists are sitting in corners, looking like they’ve just discovered aliens. One poet...

  Astronaut Amara Chen’s crystal-clear spacewalk was supposed to be one of those serious, history-making moments for humanity. The Earth was watching on TV screens, dramatic music was playing in the background, and there she was—floating slowly in space, stars glittering all around. But inside her helmet, something entirely different was going on. Her first words were: “Who on Earth polished this helmet with detergent? Everything looks so sharp, I feel like I’m peeking through a brand-new rental apartment window.” From Houston’s control room, an engineer tried to sound professional: “Amara, focus on your mission.” Amara shot back, “Mission later. First tell me, how do I scratch my nose inside this glove?” Then she drifted near a solar panel and saw it shining brilliantly. She thought, “This is exactly how my mother’s brand-new dinner plates used to shine back home. Even in dim light, they sparkled like jewels.” Soon, Amara ran into another problem. She pulled out a small bag of chi...

Americans have this unique talent: walking into any room—whether it’s the U.N. or a McDonald’s—and declaring, “We’re the greatest country in the world.” 😎🇺🇸 And honestly, it’s impressive confidence. The skyscrapers, the movies, the fast food, the “freedom fries”—everything screams superior . But here’s the plot twist: behind all that “world’s number one” energy, Uncle Sam’s credit card bill is quietly sitting on China’s desk. It’s like a guy flexing his new iPhone, Gucci belt, and Tesla… while forgetting to mention that all of it was bought on his ex-girlfriend’s credit card. 🤷‍♂️😂 Imagine the scene: an American politician thumping his chest, “We will lead the world!” Meanwhile, somewhere in Beijing, a banker sips green tea, looks at the balance sheet, and mutters, “Yes, yes… but first pay the instalments.” This is peak comedy. Americans act like they’re the landlord of Earth, but sometimes it feels like they’re just renting—with China as the landlord collecting rent every ...

 Jason, a very serious guy with very unserious habits, suddenly decided he would follow the “In & Out 2025” trend. He woke up early, grabbed a notebook, and wrote: In: Green juice Out: Energy drinks But five minutes later, his roommate showed up with a giant can of Monster. Jason thought, “If I say energy drinks are ‘out,’ he’ll think I’m boring.” So he gulped it down and said, “Wow! This is totally in !” Next on the list: In: Hitting the gym Out: Netflix binges He left for the gym at noon, but then remembered he hadn’t finished “Stranger Things.” So naturally, fitness was out —and snacks were in . In the evening, he wrote: In: Falling in love Out: Being single Just then his girlfriend texted: “Stop making lists and pick up tacos.” Jason realized instantly—romance is always in , but tacos are forever supreme. By midnight, Jason had learned the real secret: you can’t control what’s “in” or “out” in life. Sometimes green juice becomes Monster, gym becomes Netf...

In today’s world, when you look at Trump and Putin, it feels like two characters from completely different stories have suddenly landed on the same stage. One of them declares, “I will fix everything in a single day!” while the other just smiles slyly and says, “Let’s see what you can fix.” Poor Ukraine seems like the unfortunate side character stuck right between their scripts. The other day in Alaska, when Trump and Putin met, it almost looked like two old friends running into each other. Red carpet, polite laughter, handshakes—the whole drama. Ordinary people thought, “Finally, maybe something will be solved!” But when the meeting ended, one side announced, “We had very good discussions,” while the other side calmly replied, “We will continue our discussions.” The words floated away like smoke from a cheap roadside tea stall. It was just like those fairy tales where the prince sets out to solve a grave problem, and halfway through, his buddy says, “Why so serious, man? Let’s grab...

Maya (emotional attachment) is a strange thing. You can’t explain it with science, and you can’t really ignore it either. It’s like Facebook notifications—you don’t want them, but you can’t turn them off. I had a friend named Aslam. He was the most ‘realistic’ guy I knew. Always said, ‘Emotions are just an illusion.’ But he had this old rusty bicycle that he refused to throw away. Every time he rode it, the wheels made this ‘creak-creak’ sound. One day I asked, ‘Bro, why are you still riding this broken bike?’ He sighed dramatically and said, ‘This isn’t just a bike. This sound… it’s the soundtrack of my struggles. Every squeak reminds me that life keeps moving forward.’ I laughed and told him, ‘If your life moves forward with a creak, you probably just need some oil.’ And that’s when I realized: Maya (emotional attachment) isn’t about logic. It’s about not being able to let go—even when letting go would actually make your life easier. Even the most ‘realistic’ people fall into i...

Mr. Kelvin is that one guy in the neighbourhood everyone knows. People call him “the walking comfort centre.” Whenever someone cries, he magically appears with a tissue box like it’s his personal weapon. 📜 After His Wife’s Death When his wife passed away, neighbours rushed in with enough advice to start a new reality show called “Extreme Grief Counselling.” One said, “Time heals everything, bro.” Another said, “She’s in heaven, smile more.” And one absolute legend even said, “I’ve been married three times, you can borrow one of mine!” Kelvin thought: “Wait… are they comforting me or auditioning for a comedy club?” 😢 His Therapy Hack: Other People’s Misery From then on, Kelvin invented a new therapy— “Look at someone else’s misery, and yours feels tiny.” One day, Mr. John came over, looking like a man who tried to rob a bank but got robbed by the bank instead. His business failed so badly that his shop’s signboard was now his most valuable asset. Kelvin laughed so hard whil...

  Humans are such strange creatures. Their thoughts, emotions, love, and ever-changing moods—all together form a bizarre world. Human life is just like that—a moving drama where every character changes masks, dialogues shift, and even the meaning of relationships transforms. Imagine your most annoying enemy—Jonny. Just hearing his name makes your blood boil, and you assume he’s always plotting something. His face makes you think, ‘This guy must’ve stolen my umbrella in a past life.’ Jonny, too, looks at you like you’re the source of his stomach-ache. But one day, out of nowhere, Jonny shows up. His face carries a philosophical gloom, his eyes tired. He says, ‘Hey man, got a cigarette?’ You’re stunned! ‘Is this guy an alien?’ you wonder. Jonny adds, ‘Come on, just one. We fought yesterday, but today… I can’t. I’m not feeling good.’ You hand him a cigarette, and Jonny takes a deep drag as if it’s a symbol of peace. Then he pulls out a packet of jaggery from his pocket. ‘This is my pe...

People say, “Don’t jump into the race for success.” And almost always, someone raises an eyebrow and asks, “So… you just sit around and somehow get successful?” I grin and reply, “Yes—if you’ve got a cup of coffee, a good cookie, and a breeze of wisdom in your head.” One lazy afternoon, I was at a small coffee shop on the corner— not a shiny Starbucks, but the kind of place where the barista knows your order before you walk in. Through the big glass window, I watched the world rush by. Some people were running to catch the bus, some juggling laptops and iced lattes on their way to work, some speed-walking like Olympic athletes toward their next meeting, and some clearly rushing to see someone they love. But here’s what caught my attention— not one of them was smiling. Their faces weren’t excited, just tense, eyes sharp and restless. It was like everyone had been told that success was a bus, and if you didn’t hop on right now, your entire life would leave without you. ...

  “She’s Not Your Mom—She’s Your Problem: The Love Island Mommy Who Runs the Villa   "I’m a mommy." When Huda Mustafa dropped that line on Love Island USA , the internet didn’t just hear it—they felt it in their soul. And not in a “pass me the baby wipes” kind of way. No, this was mommy energy that could crush your ego, steal your man, and then borrow your sunglasses without asking. This mommy doesn’t do 7 a.m. school runs. She does 7 p.m. slow walks into the villa while everyone else suddenly forgets their own names. She doesn’t pack lunchboxes—she packs chaos, tension, and the occasional lip gloss in a sparkly clutch. On Monday night, she’s calling Brandon “my baby,” and his face melts like butter on a Waffle House pancake. By Tuesday, she’s calling Miguel “baby,” and now Brandon looks like a toddler who just got told Santa isn’t real. The villa’s men are confused, shirtless, and emotionally unstable—and she is thriving. Her mommy energy isn’t about nurturing—it’s about...

Whatever you say, that’s right" — if you live by this mantra, problems decrease, but drama increases. At the office, the boss says, “You’re very smart. From tomorrow, you’ll bring tea to the meetings.” There’s nothing to do except stare wide-eyed. While making tea, you realize office politics actually begins with the kettle. One day the boss asks, “Why is there less ginger in the tea?” and you start to wonder if the key to promotion is hidden in the amount of ginger. At home, your mother says, “Whatever you say, that’s right? Then go to the market right now, buy onions, and oh—get a bar of soap too.” Hearing the price of onions feels like “development” is happening in the country, but there’s a storm in your wallet. At the market, you see the soap standing next to the onions, hiding its face in shame—as if it wants to wash itself after hearing its own price. Following this principle might get you a promotion, but it’ll probably be from “Tea Boy” to “Senior Tea Boy.” Still,...

Most people don’t become entrepreneurs because they’re too busy worrying about their careers. They chase job titles like they’re collecting Pokémon—intern, executive, manager, VP. The path is straight, predictable, and paved with performance reviews. But somewhere along that path, they forget they could’ve built something of their own. Something messy. Something magical. I once told a friend, “Career thoughts are the biggest obstacle to becoming an entrepreneur.” He laughed and said, “You don’t even have a career.” I smiled. “Exactly. That’s why I’m brave enough to try.” Entrepreneurship isn’t born from stability—it’s born from chaos, curiosity, and a little bit of madness. When you’re not tied to a corporate ladder, you start noticing things. Like how a roadside tea stall could be a start-up. Or how your weird idea about renting umbrellas during monsoon season might actually work. People with careers dream in spreadsheets. Entrepreneurs dream in possibility. I didn’t quit my career. M...

When there’s no one around—only the quiet loneliness sitting in the corner of the room, the evening slowly descending outside the window, and the unspoken question forming inside your heart: Is everything really okay? In those moments, life doesn’t exactly stop—it becomes deeper. And within the pain, an unusual kind of beauty appears. Like the tender words hidden in the folds of an old letter, or the sudden warmth of a cup of tea placed in your hands. Life is never painted in a single color. The shade of pain may be dark, but beside it, there’s always a little light—often unseen, but always felt. Like when it suddenly rains one afternoon, and the person standing on the rooftop may be drenched in sorrow, yet their eyes hold a kind of peace. That peace is the beauty of life that survives even within suffering. This beauty is like a stone deep in the river—above it, waves, currents, sometimes storms, but beneath it, an unshaken silence. When a person suffers, their inner feelings beco...

 Anna Jobling: Malaysia’s Multicultural Muse  Anna Jobling is not just a name—she’s a phenomenon. Born on August 14, 2000, in Kuala Lumpur to a British father and a Malay mother, Anna Ellisa Gustin Jobling binti Abdul Rahman embodies a unique blend of cultures that radiates through her personality, style, and screen presence. Raised in a multicultural household and educated at an international school, Anna’s early life was steeped in diversity, which later became a cornerstone of her appeal as a public figure. From the tender age of 15, Anna’s journey into the spotlight began when her mother enrolled her in Amber Chia’s modeling academy. With her striking features and natural poise, she quickly made waves in the beauty pageant circuit, participating in Miss Melaka and Miss Pahang. But it was her appearance on the reality show Dewi Remaja 2018/2019 that truly launched her into the public eye. Finishing fourth, she didn’t just win hearts—she earned the attention of directors an...