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MITCH ALBOM books

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ramlah7717 This user has been deleted
Post time 24-5-2006 03:50 PM | Show all posts |Read mode
Sudah lama terdetik hendak membeli novel ini dan akhirnya tercapai juga hajat akak. Entah bagaimana hendak mendefinisikan karya ini. Ada fantasi. Ada drama. Ada segala-galanya dalam kisah Albom ini. Ia mengisahkan tentang seorang lelaki bernama Eddie yang di saat-saat akhir kematiannya. Di bahagian seterusnya, ada unsur-unsur imbas kembali, iaitu, flashback ke kehidupan Eddie. Paling meninggalkan kesan ialah bahagian di mana Eddie dibawa ke 'syurga' dan bertemu dengan 5 orang manusia penting dalam kehidupannya dahulu. Ketepikanlah  tentang konsep syurga dan neraka di dalam buku ini kerana agama masing-masing ada kkonsepnya yang tersendiri. Tetapi carilah mesej yang cuba disampaikan apabila Eddie bertemu semula dengan 5 orang ini. Terus terang, akak masih belum habis membaca. Inilah antara segelintir karya yang akak rasa enggan hendak menghabiskannya, kerana terlalu istimewa.

Sekali lagi, minta maaf kerana akak tak pandai hendak memasukkan gambar. sesiapa yang pandai, sudi-sudikanlah. terima kasih.

[ Last edited by  limau_nipis at 28-9-2006 12:44 PM ]

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Post time 24-5-2006 03:59 PM | Show all posts
Saya ader tgk buku ni kat kedai buku tapi tak beli lagi..I think I will buy this book..
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NB This user has been deleted
Post time 24-5-2006 04:28 PM | Show all posts
kalau x silap NB pernah tgk citer ni kt astro hallmark channel (10) da byk kali main kt channel nii....tajuk pun sama...maybe d adaptasikan dari novel niii...
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Post time 24-5-2006 04:34 PM | Show all posts
NB ni Norhayati Berahim ker?
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NB This user has been deleted
Post time 24-5-2006 04:37 PM | Show all posts
Originally posted by KRUfan at 24-5-2006 04:34 PM
NB ni Norhayati Berahim ker?



hish....bukan lerrr....
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Post time 24-5-2006 04:46 PM | Show all posts

Reply #5 NB's post

:bgrin::bgrin: sori yek. zorroe pun duk teragak2 NB tu Norhayati Berahim.

anyway, citer Five People U Meet In Heaven ni betul2 buat zorroe berfikir samade kita menghargai hidup dan setiap apa yg telah kita lakukan. Bagi kita orang Islam terase seperti tak logik tapi dlm konteks yang lain kita akan dpt pengajaran dari buku ini bahawa setiap yg kita lakukan di hari2 sudah pasti akan mendapat balasan dan kita akan menjawabnya.

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Post time 24-5-2006 05:18 PM | Show all posts



From the author of the number one  New York Times bestseller  Tuesdays with Morrie comes this long-awaited follow-up, an enchanting, beautifully crafted novel that explores a mystery only heaven can unfold.

Eddie is a grizzled war veteran who feels trapped in a meaningless life of fixing rides at a seaside amusement park. As the park has changed over the years -- from the Loop-the-Loop to the Pipeline Plunge -- so, too, has Eddie changed, from optimistic youth to embittered old age. His days are a dull routine of work, loneliness, and regret.

Then, on his 83rd birthday, Eddie dies in a tragic accident, trying to save a little girl from a falling cart. With his final breath, he feels two small hands in his -- and then nothing. He awakens in the afterlife, where he learns that heaven is not a lush Garden of Eden, but a place where your earthly life is explained to you by five people who were in it. These people may have been loved ones or distant strangers. Yet each of them changed your path forever.

One by one, Eddie's five people illuminate the unseen connections of his earthly life. As the story builds to its stunning conclusion, Eddie desperately seeks redemption in the still-unknown last act of his life: Was it a heroic success or a devastating failure? The answer, which comes from the most unlikely of sources, is as inspirational as a glimpse of heaven itself.

In The Five People You Meet in Heaven, Mitch Albom gives us an astoundingly original story that will change everything you've ever thought about the afterlife -- and the meaning of our lives here on earth. With a timeless tale, appealing to all, this is a book that readers of fine fiction, and those who loved Tuesdays with Morrie, will treasure.

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syrzreen This user has been deleted
Post time 24-5-2006 05:50 PM | Show all posts
wa... mesti best cite ni... Teringat pulak ngan novel The Green Mile, novel Stephen King.. Dah difilemkan, lakonan Tom Hank..
Teringat-ingat  lagi cite ni...
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Post time 24-5-2006 09:54 PM | Show all posts
bukunya sangat bagus, one of my must read last year
the adapatiion from hallmark is excellent, i would say 100% of the content is exactly like the book

[ Last edited by  limau_nipis at 25-5-2006 10:55 PM ]
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nonoiz42 This user has been deleted
Post time 25-5-2006 08:36 AM | Show all posts
bestlah reviu kak ram ni. brape harge.. ek?
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Post time 25-5-2006 02:14 PM | Show all posts
buku ni mmg best. i cried buckets after reading it, makes me wonder sapalah 5 org yg akan ingat kat saya bila tak ada nanti.
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Post time 28-9-2006 12:43 PM | Show all posts
i am currently reading mitch albom "Tuesdays With Morrie"

About the Author
Mitch Albom is the author of six previous books. A nationally syndicated columnist for the Detroit Free Press and a nationally syndicated radio host for ABC and WJR-AM, Albom has, for more than a decade, been named top sports columnist in the nation by the Sports Editors of America, the highest honor in the field. A panelist on ESPN抯 Sports Reporters, Albom also regularly serves as a commentator for that network. He serves on numerous charitable boards and has founded two charities in metropolitan Detroit: The Dream Fund, which helps underprivileged youth study the arts, and A Time to Help, a monthly volunteer program. He lives with his wife, Janine, in Michigan.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
The Curriculum

The last class of my old professor's life took place once a week in his house, by a window in the study where he could watch a small hibiscus plant shed its pink leaves.  The class met on Tuesdays. It began after breakfast. The subject was The Meaning of Life. It was taught from experience.  

No grades were given, but there were oral exams each week. You were expected to respond to questions, and you were expected to pose questions of your own. You were also required to perform physical tasks now and then, such as lifting the professor's head to a comfortable spot on the pillow or placing his glasses on the bridge of his nose. Kissing him good-bye earned you extra credit.  

No books were required, yet many topics were covered, including love, work, community, family, aging, forgiveness, and, finally, death. The last lecture was brief, only a few words.  

A funeral was held in lieu of graduation.  

Although no final exam was given, you were expected to produce one long paper on what was learned. That paper is presented here.  

The last class of my old professor's life had only one student.

I was the student.

It is the late spring of 1979, a hot, sticky Saturday afternoon. Hundreds of us sit together, side by side, in rows of wooden folding chairs on the main campus lawn. We wear blue nylon robes. We listen impatiently to long speeches. When the ceremony is over, we throw our caps in the air, and we are officially graduated from college, the senior class of Brandeis University in the city of Waltham, Massachusetts. For many of us, the curtain has just come down on childhood.  

Afterward, I find Morrie Schwartz, my favorite professor, and introduce him to my parents. He is a small man who takes small steps, as if a strong wind could, at any time, whisk him up into the clouds. In his graduation day robe, he looks like a cross between a biblical prophet and a Christmas elf. He has sparkling blue-green eyes, thinning silver hair that spills onto his forehead, big ears, a triangular nose, and tufts of graying eyebrows. Although his teeth are crooked and his lower ones are slanted back--as if someone had once punched them in--when he smiles it's as if you'd just told him the first joke on earth.  

He tells my parents how I took every class he taught.  He tells them, "You have a special boy here."  Embarrassed, I look at my feet. Before we leave, I hand my professor a present, a tan briefcase with his initials on the front. I bought this the day before at a shopping mall.  I didn't want to forget him. Maybe I didn't want him to forget me.  

    "Mitch, you are one of the good ones," he says, admiring the briefcase. Then he hugs me. I feel his thin arms around my back. I am taller than he is, and when he holds me, I feel awkward, older, as if I were the parent and he were the child.  

He asks if I will stay in touch, and without hesitation I say, "Of course."  

When he steps back, I see that he is crying.

The Syllabus

His death sentence came in the summer of 1994. Looking back, Morrie knew something bad was coming long before that. He knew it the day he gave up dancing.  

He had always been a dancer, my old professor. The music didn't matter. Rock and roll, big band, the blues. He loved them all. He would close his eyes and with a blissful smile begin to move to his own sense of rhythm. It wasn't always pretty. But then, he didn't worry about a partner.  Morrie danced by himself.  

He used to go to this church in Harvard Square every Wednesday night for something called "Dance Free."  They had flashing lights and booming speakers and Morrie would wander in among the mostly student crowd, wearing a white T-shirt and black sweatpants and a towel around his neck, and whatever music was playing, that's the music to which he danced. He'd do the lindy to Jimi Hendrix. He twisted and twirled, he waved his arms like a conductor on amphetamines, until sweat was dripping down the middle of his back. No one there knew he was a prominent doctor of sociology, with years of experience as a college professor and several well-respected books.  They just thought he was some old nut.  

Once, he brought a tango tape and got them to play it over the speakers. Then he commandeered the floor, shooting back and forth like some hot Latin lover. When he finished, everyone applauded. He could have stayed in that moment forever.  

But then the dancing stopped.  

He developed asthma in his sixties. His breathing became labored. One day he was walking along the Charles River, and a cold burst of wind left him choking for air. He was rushed to the hospital and injected with Adrenalin.  

A few years later, he began to have trouble walking.  At a birthday party for a friend, he stumbled inexplicably.  Another night, he fell down the steps of a theater, startling a small crowd of people.  

    "Give him air!" someone yelled.  

He was in his seventies by this point, so they whispered "old age" and helped him to his feet. But Morrie, who was always more in touch with his insides than the rest of us, knew something else was wrong. This was more than old age. He was weary all the time. He had trouble sleeping. He dreamt he was dying.  

He began to see doctors. Lots of them. They tested his blood. They tested his urine. They put a scope up his rear end and looked inside his intestines. Finally, when nothing could be found, one doctor ordered a muscle biopsy, taking a small piece out of Morrie's calf. The lab report came back suggesting a neurological problem, and Morrie was brought in for yet another series of tests. In one of those tests, he sat in a special seat as they zapped him with electrical current--an electric chair, of sorts--and studied his neurological responses.  

    "We need to check this further," the doctors said, looking over his results.  

    "Why?" Morrie asked. "What is it?"  

    "We're not sure. Your times are slow."  

His times were slow? What did that mean?  

Finally, on a hot, humid day in August 1994, Morrie and his wife, Charlotte, went to the neurologist's office, and he asked them to sit before he broke the news: Morrie had amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS), Lou Gehrig's disease, a brutal, unforgiving illness of the neurological system.  

There was no known cure.  

    "How did I get it?" Morrie asked.  

Nobody knew.  

    "Is it terminal?"  

Yes.  

    "So I'm going to die?"  

Yes, you are, the doctor said. I'm very sorry.  

He sat with Morrie and Charlotte for nearly two hours, patiently answering their questions. When they left, the doctor gave them some information on ALS, little pamphlets, as if they were opening a bank account.  Outside, the sun was shining and people were going about their business. A woman ran to put money in the parking meter. Another carried groceries. Charlotte had a million thoughts running through her mind: How much time do we have left? How will we manage? How will we pay the bills?  

My old professor, meanwhile, was stunned by the normalcy of the day around him. Shouldn't the world stop? Don't they know what has happened to me?  

But the world did not stop, it took no notice at all, and as Morrie pulled weakly on the car door, he felt as if he were dropping into a hole.  

Now what? he thought.

As my old professor searched for answers, the disease took him over, day by day, week by week. He backed the car out of the garage one morning and could barely push the brakes. That was the end of his driving.  

He kept tripping, so he purchased a cane. That was the end of his walking free.  

He went for his regular swim at the YMCA, but found he could no longer undress himself. So he hired his first home care worker--a theology student named Tony--who helped him in and out of the pool, and in and out of his bathing suit. In the locker room, the other swimmers pretended not to stare. They stared anyhow.  That was the end of his privacy.  

In the fall of 1994, Morrie came to the hilly Brandeis campus to teach his final college course. He could have skipped this, of course. The university would have understood. Why suffer in front of so many people? Stay at home. Get your affairs in order. But the idea of quitting did not occur to Morrie.  

Instead, he hobbled into the classroom, his home for more than thirty years. Because of the cane, he took a while to reach the chair. Finally, he sat down, dropped his glasses off his nose, and looked out at the young faces who stared back in silence.  

    "My friends, I assume you are all here for the Social Psychology class. I have been teaching this course for twenty years, and this is the first time I can say there is a risk in taking it, because I have a fatal illness. I may not live to finish the semester.  

    "If you feel this is a problem, I understand if you wish to drop the course."  

He smiled.  

And that was the end of his secret.

ALS is like a lit candle: it melts your nerves and leaves your body a pile of wax. Often. ...

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Post time 2-10-2006 08:18 AM | Show all posts
I have finished reading the book, yesterday.



I could never care more or less about biography or autobiography. It always read from one person's point of view. I have not realised this book is a biography till the end. I was crying when I read it, the book is really a personal biography of two people, instead of one.

Mitch Albom was a great writer, and Tuesdays With Morrie is about life's greatest lesson. He had a mentor, once. His mentor was Morrie Schwartz, his professor back when he was in the college. Morrie was dying, and after 16 years, Mitch met his professor on his death bed.

They started a lesson every Tuesday, it's about the meaning of life. The unique way it was presented was the fact the writer knew the person so well, that their life experience was entwined with each other. It teaches everything a person should know; about world, regrets, emotions, death, fear of aging, marriage and forgiveness. This was what Morrie called Mitch's final thesis with him.

Mitch was the person we all know so well, which reflects ourselves, of aiming to work harder, to have more money, a bigger house, a new car - which this cravings are all materialistic in its' nature. Morrie was a great teacher who embraced life in his full potential. He could never care more about these things, but he cared about his relationships with people and God.

At the end, it was what Morrie cared that had more life value than what we, as a human, wants in our life.

I cried, I cheered, I feel triumphed over their achievements in life.

I was crying when Morrie died, and I was crying when Morrie told about his childhood and the death of his parents. On Mitch, I cried when he wrote about his cancer-stricken brother, but cheered when he tried to amend the bridge between him and his brother.

This is an excellent book, and true to its promise, it is about life's greatest lesson.

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Post time 2-10-2006 10:16 AM | Show all posts

Reply #3 NB's post

aah byk kali tayang kat hallmark..aku tak baca lg buku...tgk tv je
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Post time 22-10-2006 03:07 AM | Show all posts
skarang ni mitch dh kuarkan novel baru. tajuk die for one more day. berdasarkan kisah seorang lelaki bernama chick yang dapat jumpa dengan roh ibu dia yang dh 8 thn meninggal. this book  is must read.saya tengah baca.best jugak.

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Post time 13-11-2006 11:09 PM | Show all posts
tuesday with morrie memang best.. nak try other books from mitch albom pas ni :bgrin:
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Post time 5-12-2006 10:44 PM | Show all posts
diorg kata tuesdays with morris tu best..aduh nk bli tp duit xder
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Post time 22-3-2007 01:55 PM | Show all posts
Mitch Albom is a writer that amazed me with his simple but profound delivery.

I cried buckets reading 5 people you meet in heaven. This is one life-changing book for me.

In relating to the journey of the main chararacter went thorugh after he died, Mitch cleverly unfold issues that are deep seated in, I believe, most of us. He allowed us the possibilty of travelling through time, and getting better understanding of a situation. Misunderstanding, misinformation - are the core issues that brought heartache to millions of people, including me.

If only we did open our hearts, and minds, to explore the possibilities that maybe what we thought was true is not. That perhaps, there are other reasons underlying it. Perhaps it is not always our fault. Perhaps whatever happened, bitter as it may, are all part of our grand design of life.

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Post time 12-7-2007 08:07 PM | Show all posts
i baca tuesdays with morrie sebelum the 5 people you meet in heaven. rasa the former lebih interesting drp the latter.
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Post time 22-7-2007 07:00 PM | Show all posts
For One More Day pun best jgk....
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