For most of 21 years of life, I have avoided meats and meals featuring the word lamb, for I adhor the terrible taste that linger in your mouth. That irksome smell of fur and spice in you can find
“a mouthful” of tabacoo what I could describe it.
It became a very personal thing for me, despite how Manu parents will tempt me with their mutubak or goatsoup mee in their favorite food haven.
Even going to the extend of verbal listing those features you can get from swallowing that meat a docile animal.
Like Anita Rodrick’s persistent of mixing CSR in her business plan, it was a tale of no lamb, for myself socially responsible for not tasting that animal
Today, after writing the essay of my lifetime, I joined the big event of the week for SMU – patron day 
Having the only dinner menu of chicken satay and roasted lamb tabak, it seems that survival instinct has do away all past hostility with the meat.
Sinking those satay swiftly away, leaving the empty sticks, the next surprising move was to eschew those lamb minced meat.
It didn’t taste that bad. The spice had work their wonder.
The crepe skin, woh partial crispyness of lettuce in work,
Only tender, suculent , and the magically aroma can describe it.
Somehow I blogged because it means a very signicant change in my life. Sitting under the nightfall with only the bodhi tree in sight, it serves to remind me that we dun have much time. Even second I keep quiet, I lost an opportunity of expression.
Every breath I take, I ask if I have gain that additional strength, that additional knowledge of our working world.
A tale of lamb, a tale of change…
A tale that we seek to ask
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