2senweb

Biking

2012-02-10T12:06:00.000+08:00

What a great way to go places while keeping fit: riding a bicycle. It is also cheap; and by the look of it, these girls from a local university are bonding as well.

I asked them how much their bikes cost, they said around RM 300-400. Hey, not bad at all, if you can use it for the whole of your uni stay and perhaps longer. Universities have parking problems as well, so this is a brilliant way around the parking woes.

I hope these young ladies have bought their raincoats as well.

Coincidences in Life

2011-12-20T12:43:00.000+08:00

I am sure all of us have experienced the coincidence of meeting someone (who we have not met in ages)almost at the very instance we think of them. And this sometimes happen to us with the same person. For instance with me, it's Julinda. I might be thinking of how long it was since we last lunched together and soon, she would phone.

Another time was when I met this young man from Afghanistan whose name was Sebghatullah. I mentioned that it was an unusual name; it must mean something? Yes ma'm; it means colour, in Arabic. Interesting, I replied. Lo and behold, that very night, after maghrib prayer, I read the Qur'an and sibghatullah was in one ayat. I call this kind of experience my 'little miracles'.

I posted a few photographs on this blog yesterday and gave it the title 'Life'. I had no certain aim for the blog, but to share the photos which were quite carefully chosen of simple things that can make your day.

Anyhow, this morning while in the photocopy place at work, I met a colleague who gave me a copy of a poem he wrote some time ago. What was placed in my hands was a poem called 'Life'. Now, how's that? I quite like it, and a couple of hours later phoned Mr Param for his permission to share it. Here it is, in parts:

I am not in utter disbelief, because I know this happens.

Yet again, today, as is my habit, I browse some favourite news portals and stopped at 'Will Piers' tabloid past...' on The Independent . It soon lost my interest and my eyes wandered to the left corner of the screen to Top 10 Worst Lyrics of all Time. And top of the list is 'Life' by Des'ree.

And here is my hydrangea which threatened to die but has really beat the odds.

Life

2011-12-19T13:54:00.000+08:00

Peace and Quiet Not Far From KL

Buds of Karapillai Bush

Terkukur Helping Out With Leftover Rice

Unknown Plant With Beautiful Flowers

Not Openly Burning

There's Life In There

Ripening

A Truly Welcome Break

2011-10-27T11:20:00.000+08:00

It was a welcome break: 26th October 2011. We did not get any invites to our Hindu friends' houses and so we did our own thang.

After our normal breakfast of oats and toast (I'm not the type of wife who'd work up a sweat in the kitchen for breakfast)we took a 2 minute drive to Taman TAR and parked our car outside the Taman Ehsan mosque.

Masjid Darul Ehsan

In reality, the slope is pretty steep

Parking there was on purpose, as we could have parked outside of Kelab Darul Ehsan; but we wanted the more punishing incline. I felt so happy when AHS suggested going for a walk there, instead of making the usual round around our housing area. The only minus point about walking around the Kelab is the macaques. So I brought my stick.

However, I was the minority. True enough there was a handful of them but I have never heard of any untoward incident of the simian attacking anyone. But I just couldn't stop the palpitations in my heart when we had to pass one that was sitting in the middle of the road. I brought my camera, but was too afraid to take a picture of the macaque 'posing' calmly as we walked by.

I don't think the tyre swing was hung there for humans.

There were people from all walks of like: the old and slow, the fast and sprinting, the bow-legged, the agile, the serious, the talkers and the once in awhile: hubby and I.

A work of art.

After the good workout, it was kopi Malaysia time. Bring on the mid-week breaks!

Raya 2011

2011-09-01T17:07:00.000+08:00

My Raya wish: to have more time to write my posts.

Eid Mubarak to one and all.

"Awak"

2011-06-03T09:37:00.000+08:00

Words W O R D S words wORdswords

It is interesting what one word means to one person and another to another person. "Busuk"(smelly) can be an endearment when, for example, a grandmother calls her grandchild that. But, taking the meaning literally, the child might not understand it that way, and take it as an insult, which could create quite an endearing problem to both. My niece, who used to be left at her paternal grandmother's house while both parents went to work used to then complain that the grandmother was "busuk".

Last week, a 20 something Indonesian came to the house in search of work. Already having my weekly, I had a sudden brainwave and got her to do the dreaded weeding which the garden badly needed. She did a good job in the two hours she spent digging at the roots, raking dry leaves and loosening up the base of my neglected plants. So when I asked if she would be able to work again the next day, she replied "Kalau awak senang, awak datanglah". I quickly understood what it meant. It reminded me too of a pantun my grandmother would rattle off if I compalined about any of my siblings:

Kata dulang paku serpih,

Kata orang aku yang lebih.

It is understood that "aku" in the last line means "awak"(you) and not "aku" as in I.

In the Pahang dialect, "awak" is very commonly used among people of any age. It is pronounced as "awok" or written as "aok" in FB-speak among my nephews. However, it is to me impolite to refer to an older person "awak".

Let them? Second Thoughts

2011-04-15T11:18:00.001+08:00

I thought I'd better write something here else I will always have these ideas hovering in my head, 'bookmarking' them for the 'next blog entry' and not think of much else.

Well, the Egyptian march went well, without much ado, and in fact it went on in a'very civilised' manner. At first. It managed to oust the person it wanted to get rid of, and we thought that was the way to have a revolution, if we ever need to. But not all is well. Now the Egyptians are fighting each other, but I hope Ghonim is not feeling too guilty about it. Perhaps he should tweet and facebook the Egyptian masses to be more reasonable now, and get back to work so the country can go on with building its ecomnomy and possibly have a free and fair election. But does anybody really bother? Like the way people bother with Libya's affairs?

Libya has a host of interested parties and not because of the human rights violations committed by Gadaffi's loyals. If whatever is shown on tv has any truth, the European powers want the oil before Gadaffi burns all of it up. They, who a short while ago were friendly with Gadaffi are now seeing him as the vilain and want to 'help' the country.

But Gadaffi has not (perhaps purposefully) groomed anyone to take over when he was gone. He was so distrustful of the army that it has not been properly trained and very poorly armed. But it is quite amazing to see the weapons that people on the streets of Libya carry.

No, politics is too dirty and mind boggling for many of us. I can never understand the many twists and turns of Malaysian politics, let alone the world's. What the US is doing to Libya and not to Israel is frustrating; especially when other parties see the reason behind it.

All uprisings I have read about or seen on tv have not been beneficial to the people in general, as far as I am concerned.

Let Them Vent...

2011-02-10T09:49:00.001+08:00

...for awhile. It has been some 30 years that the loquacious Egyptians were made to cower in their skins and take whatever that's shoved down their throats.

The 'dream' that had been weaved into them they are the greatest people, with the longest history has now seen daylight. What is a long history if your people have to live on top of your ancestral graveyard for the lack of money to buy land? What is the meaning of being the greatest people when you beg for others to give you a job? Where is your dignity when you see those in power celebrating their counterparts at lavish dinners, but your children have only crumbs to lick, if they are lucky?

But will the scorned Mubarak step down? He'll stay on, till THEY find someone else to replace him. Someone else who will still kowtow to THEIR whims and fancies. Will just ANY kind of change satisfy the people; or will they only settle for a meaningful change?

The Fearsome Four Plus One

2011-01-07T14:27:00.001+08:00

Is it the Malay, or is it an Asian parents' characteristic of bringing up their children by instilling fear in them? I was a victim. I was brought up with many adults around me: my grandparents and their peers -- so they each have some favourite way to scare you to bits with tangible or intangible beings.

As far as I remember, as a child, the folowing are the most fearsome:

Hantu Kopek
This Hantu brought the thrill to playing hide and seek. Will you, or won't you get caught this time? But I wonder if it in fact killed the joy. This Hantu must be female, because it has huge breasts (kopek (to east coasters) is breasts or tetek (to west coasters)).

For some reason untold, we children were warned that we would be hidden under the Hantu's kopek, never to be found again, should we play hide-and-seek at maghrib time (dusk).

Later, I found myself making a generalisation of the warning to being abducted by Hantu Kopek if I hid in dark places, even if it was not at maghrib.

Mak Sang Kelembai
This makcik isn't very nice. It perches itself on the tops of coconut trees at midday. All this information isn't written in books but I made the inferences needed from my grandmother's constant reminder: "Keluarlah tengah-tengah hari ni; nanti tegur di Mak Sang Kelembai, jadi batu. Dia duduk atas pokok kelapa tu."

The rest was up to my imagination: could I still see if I were turned to stone? Would someone bring food for me? I never asked where this Mak cik went at other parts of the day, because the threatening tone as well as the you-should-know-this glance from my grandma told me not to.

I would simply hang about in the house, getting in my grandmother's way until after her nap and her kuihs before I ventured out to friends' houses.

Mind you, Wan (my grandmother) passed away when I was six, so I must have been going out to others' houses younger than that!

Orang Tajam Batu
This tall, dark, unshaven, turbaned guy with a gruff voice was noticed at a slightly later time than the introduction to Mak Sang Kelembai. This time I was already playing hop-scotch and Police and Thieves/ Police Sentry.

Orang Tajam Batu may be tangible, but Orang Tajam Batu was mysterious. Orang Tajam Batu was never friendly with the children: he only dealt with the adults. You didn't get to see him very often, which made it worse. But when he came round, most nice mak ciks and tok ciks would be thrilled. They would get their dull batu gilings and kisars sharpened.

But us children would run helter skelter and hide away till he was well beyond earshot before we would nervously step out to resume play. Orang Tajam Batu's song: Taaajam batu, tajam batu, batu giling! with the last syllable said out like a question.

The Ram
Tapioca Hill in Kuantan is very different from what it was 40 years ago. The frontage now are brick buildings housing Eng Hong Mini Market and another, Klinik Yusof. The end unit of a row of terrace houses was a kandang kambing, belonging to Allahyarhamah Mak Long Siton.

The simple setup of the pen was a cause for concern to me; for within it was a black ram, with curled up horns, and his harem. The wooden fence looked too flimsy to protect passers-by from the ram should it run amok, which, to my imagination he was extremely capable of, and it would happen when I happen to pass by.

Another cause is the unmistakable goat smell wafting from it, especially in the morning. The ram's favourite pastime, at any time of the day was to sidle up to the fence entrance, rubbing its tick infested body against it, letting out a snort and a groan once awhile. I believe I had never taunted the ram, unless with a group of friends, but would still be alert, in case he managed to jump at us.

Now, to get to school on the black and white Bee Huat bus, I had to walk the 500 metres to the main road, passing the pen. Here was where I would bend my head, so as not to be in eye contact with the male goat, and walk as fast as I could down the slight incline. I would then be able to breathe properly, and not because of the smell from the goats' urine and droppings.

There had been times when the pen was open and the ram pranced about, scaring the wits out of children. I don't remember the ram further from the poutside of the entrance, but the fact that he was free was scary. I guess the adults were afraid too, but were able to disguise it.

The Siamang
Now Mak Long Siton also kept a black-and-white lanky siamang under her house. His cage was a long, narrow shack, with a plank right at the back of it for the siamang to rest on. Otherwise, he was happier clinging on to the wire door of his cage,hands spread out way above his small head and legs apart; trying to get attention from people. Otherwise, he would agilely carry himself from one end of the cage to the other.

One day, however, as we were lying on the floor of our living room in the afternoon,the siamang suddenly appeared, dangling from one hand on our window. How we screamed. We were taken by surprise: some of us were half asleep and half dazed, we scrambled to our feet; some of us totally dazed and had to take several seconds to make sense of things. But my father just stood up and chased it away. Pheeww.

So I guess I should include the siamang as its appearance was totally unexpected.

End of Year

2010-12-06T11:13:00.001+08:00

It's the end of the year, depending on whether you go by the Muslim or the gregorian calendar. Tomorrow is Muharram first, so tonight, many mosques will read the doa or supplication for the end of the year as well as doa welcoming the new year. Some quarters say that the practice is bid'ah, or misleading, but hey, to me, making a doa is good, anytime.

The end of the year signals the start of the new, and we hope for the better for our future.

Looking at the past 12 months or so, I've been blessed to have met people who are to me wise, and have made me 'bookmark' what they said or did.
1) My husband; advicing my nephew:
   "Be selfish only about one thing: your
   time. You can never get it back."
2) A colleague (Age:68, single) "I hope I
   won't have the tendency to tell off or
   give advice to my nieces and nephews all
   the time. I want them to be around me."
3) My husband. "You must treat well those who
   come to your house; even if they are your
   enemies." Advice he got from his sister-
   in-law.

I have also learnt a lesson or two in events that happened in those months.
1) I must keep my jewellery elsewhere (after
   our house was burgled)
2) I must store phone numbers right away.
3) I can make 'gubahan hantaran'; simple ones,
   though (after my brother's wedding).

I have also read a few lines here and there that have hopefully wizened me up on a lot of issues.
1) "he who his own liberty cannot enjoy need not fear death, for he is already dead."
   I know not the original speaker of those words, though I Googled. I found a piece of paper on which the saying I had scribbled while clearing a box full of knick knacks. This leads me to:
2) I must always remember to ackowledge a quote.
3) "No one ever became great by talking about the problems. Always look in the windshield and never in the mirror." Muhtar Kent,CEO and Chairman of Coca Cola, NST, Nov 20, 2010.
4) No one is 100% 'black' or 100% white. After reading 'The Malaysian Maverick" by Wain.

Have a blessed and happy year ahead, everyone!

Wedding of our Youngest

2010-11-26T14:01:00.004+08:00

Many parents wait for the moment their children are married off. And how does it feel when they do? Well, my parents must be feeling exactly that; since their youngest son, my brother was married to the love of his life last weekend. That was the groom's side -- the bride's was held on 30th October. Thus sealed the marriages of their eight children.

I was hassled by my mother when I wasn't married at the ripe old age of 40! I wasn't going to just marry anybody that passes my way, no way. But I managed to make her feel relieved not long after that. Yes, I think the feeling that parents have when their child is married is relieved. Not ecstacy, I don't think.

So, everybody pitched in for this wedding: the planning,the execution, the aftermath. The colour themes were set fist -- otherwise, when would we be able to send our bajus to the tailor? Green was the chosen colour for 30th October and purple for 20th November. Things went much easier after that!

Bunga telur (it was really a gift bag of a muffin and an apple)comes in endless shapes, materials and colour. I remember when I was little, there were bunga telur in the shape of animals (3-D), made of manila card with silver dust sprinkled on them. Then, there were weaved basket ones, plastic baskets; and of course the much worked on family-created ones. Everyone had more time then,to 'gubah' even when they, like us, had 24 hours a day as well.

Now, though, many would resort to the ones already done in the shops. Although not 'original' they serve a good purpose for those who lack time to tame materials into shapes. Those with more means import from overseas. Ours have always been rather pragmatic. My bunga telur was bahulu and raisins in a pretty paper bag printed with my and AHS' names. My brother's was a muffin and an apple in silver bags; and a pouch filled with sweets for the children. For guests from the bride's side, they got chocolate in a woven container.

Preparing the gifts for bride's side

Preparing the pouch for kids

The fruit basket

About 30 years ago, the hantaran would be composed (gubah) by the aunts and neighbours, and a lot of merry making would ensue weeks prior to the big day. But now, there is less and less of that. Bath towels used to be turned into doves, and sejadah or prayer mats could be turned into masjids or flowers. Oh, those were the days. I wonder what kind of gifts would be exchanged by brides and bridegrooms to come.

And the following are pictures from my wedding some time ago...

Notice the same alas dulang?

I wish my brother and my sister-in-law the best in their life together. May they find lots of fun and laughter along the way and showered with plenty of blessings and peace, and an abundance of rezki.

A new beginning?

2010-11-09T12:24:00.003+08:00

It has been awhile since I wrote here. I was planning to quit; not for anything but for the lack of time, which would only incur shame to my very self should I write half thought pieces. But today, I feel like sharing.

AHS (hubby) travelled a bit in May and here are some of the places we went to:

Masjid Nabawi, from our hotel window: sunrise

Maybe it is that time of the year when pilgrims make their way to Saudi that has made me inspired to write again. As always, I was lighthearted when we were there,and I was, and am still thankful to AHS who made it possible; making all the necessary arrangements, as I was annoyingly busy.

The Bedouins' Camel ranch: Hudaybiyah

It was my first time at the camel farm, never having the chance (somehow) to get there the times I was there before. Our guide mentioned the properties of the camel milk: it cleanses your bowel, keeps you warm (we need to be this even in Saudi) and makes men more virile.

Pilgrims' water containers of yore

The phool apparatus: phool became my main breakfast item in Makkah

Entrance to the building where our hotel is situated

Outside masjidil Haram, from our hotel

We tried our best to be good pilgrims, and then, leave everything to Allah.

Khat, at al Ansari Mosque, Istanbul

Al Ansari was the first mosque we visited in Istanbul, in fact, hours after we arrived; and I fell in love with the town right away. Al Ansari Mosque wasn't in the itinerary, but Mustafa, our good guide took us near there for breakfast, and the mosque was close to our breakfast place: Simit Sariye.

One of my favourite things: the fountain. Outside of al Ansari.

Some tiles fom long ago at the mosque

In fact, I love Istanbul (and its food) very much that I suggested for us to migrate there, but AHS was more realistic about it.

The fare at Simit Sariye

AHS, taking wuduk at The Blue Mosque

A tap from ancient times, at the Hippodrome, Istanbul

Tombstones, Sulaiman Mosque grounds

The ubiquitous Turkish sweets: delightful

The Whirling Dervishes: Amazing

The Aquaduct of ancient times

Wonderful street music in Taksim

Our stop on the Bosphorus Straits ferry ride, to sample the yoghurt: refreshing

Of course we did the touristy thing of visiting the Hagia Sophia which is breathtaking, and the beautiful and huge grounds of the Topkapi Palace, its kitchen ten times the size of my house. They are situated next to each other and in the vicinity the Sultan Ahmet Mosque (The Blue Mosque). We enjoyed the lunches we had at Bukhary restaurant, in the Sultan Ahmet area and the divine dinners at our hotel in Lalile.

My only tiny regret is not buying the beautiful ceramic pieces from Koppadokya. They are made by hand and the designs are intricate and fine; much different from the blue ceramics in the bazaars. In retrospect, however, they are just things, and I cherish the memory of being with AHS more. We also had a long way to go because after that we headed off to Damascus, Syria.

It was fruit season in Syria

A tiny mosque in the bazaar

At the Umayyad mosque

Must try: Syrian ice cream

Umm Nour: Our guide's wife, in her kitchen

The last leg ouf our trip was Dubai, a stark difference from humble Syria. I was especially impressed by the Emirates airport: such chic and opulence!

Outside a Palace's grounds

One posh residence

Got to see this

It was a good trip, though AHS was taken ill in Dubai. I suspect it was the heat that did it, leading us to cancel our safari trip to the desert.

Here ends this sharing bit. I've enjoyed putting this together, which has taken me close to three weeks!

Sunday Intelligence

2010-06-14T13:08:00.001+08:00

I was reading an article in the New Sunday Times yesterday, in the heat of the 2.30 p.m afternoon, stationing myself in the cool dining area, in order not to use the fan nor the air-conditioning. My green effort. The article, written by the weekly columnist A. Murad Merican about the conception of professors and intellectuals set me into my thinking mode. Have I met an intellectual? Professors, yes. Intellectuals?

There are those delightful people who, when having a conversation with them would drop you gems of insight; providing, along the way, an insight into their own intellectuality. Some of these conversations would make me realize how much wisdom these people have, generating mainly from their observations and experiences. I have met quite a few of these sages, and they didn’t get this wisdom from a university education. They are not professors. Some of them live far from any higher learning institution. Sadly, many are no longer around; or have I been removed from their community?

We are also familiar with the delightful creatures who would tell you tales interspersed with amusing anecdotes, some of which you do not know whether to believe or otherwise. These are smart people, able to pick from memory snippets from his or her life detached from the main point of the tale but weaving them into the tale at hand.

I have also met professors who are eloquent in their fields of study, but not much else. Now, I don’t consider them intellectuals. They are the ‘lucky’ ones who have doggedly pursued an education path. I believe intellectuals are those who have a good mix of acquaintances and friends from quite a varied field, able to interact reasonably well with almost anybody and who are not in the midst his or her next project that churns out yet another piece of literature in the area nauseously similar to the last one.

I do not believe professors and/ or intellectuals should be those who have been fortunate enough to do an undergraduate degree and have proceeded to their doctorate from the same university, without any experience working in their field of study or other areas of study. Worse are those who have managed to then secure a job at the same university, holding a post and trying to make changes based on their accumulated theoretical framework. Alas, there are too many of these in Malaysia. But I am guessing. I do not have empirical data.

Upon scanning my memory and experience on the sunny afternoon, I believe I found someone I would like to call a Malaysian intellectual. Royal Professor Ungku Aziz. I have heard him speak in person a number of times. His ideas may not be all the time mainstream, but an intellectual must not be afraid.

I would like to include Professor Syed Naquib al Attas, but as much as I’d like to, I have not met him in person. But if hearsay is anything, I bestow him ‘The Intellectual Professor’. I do not know if his brother, (the late) Syed Hussein would have approved. Nevertheless, both these al Attas men have great minds.

But intellectuals and professors should not be moulded to fit into any political slant. They should have independent and creative minds, thinking and exploring issues. They may or may not articulate their thoughts, but may have something to contribute when approached.

The P 94

2010-04-22T15:20:00.000+08:00

This weekend, Hulu Selangor will be a happening place. In fact, it has attracted many from afar and the whole place is like a carnival, I hear. Empty houses are taken up for temporary use, to house campaign centres as well as supporters. The P94 war is on.

MCA had won the Parliamentary seat in the early days. Tin mining was the main activity there then, so I suppose it was only logical to field a Chinese in the polls, since most mining activities were done by the Chinese. In 1986, the seat was allotted to MIC, with Datuk S.S. Subramaniam as M.P.. Was there a change in the make-up of the races? Perhaps. After Palanivel, Hulu Selangor was won over by P.K.R.'s (the late) Datuk Dr Zainal Abidin Ahmad in 2008. He was an UMNO guy before joining P.K.R.

From the interviews (in the media)lately, the people of Hulu Selangor voiced out their need for jobs and development in the area; and in the two years the P.K.R. has taken over, not much development (apart from massage parlours, according to them)has taken place. All the development that is there were from the 'Barisan' years, they said. Youth from that area have had to leave the place to get decent jobs.

I ponder at this, and wonder what kind of development people want? Not shopping complexes, surely! Not more temples and schools, voiced someone (in an NST article) who said 'we are not all saints and scholars'.

Yet in another NST interview, an old couple was displeased (and why shouldn't they?) about how their jasmine plantation was acquired to make way for some stalls. The stalls have since been abandoned and they no longer have land for their source of income. The young do not have jobs and have turned to loitering to pass their time. And all these hadn't happened in just the last two years.

I have often gone to Kuala Kubu Baru to get to Fraser's, to visit the serene Darul Quran, to visit the old folk's home in Rasa,to a kenduri in Serendah, just for a day's outing from Gombak-Ulu Yam-Batang Kali and have found these places quaint and very, very, delightful -- to an outsider.

But the locals cannot just live on the quaintness of a place. They need jobs; or opportunities to be employed. They don't want handouts, but a catalyst to start a venture. So, can Kamalanathan be their saviour? Or Zaid?

It's interesting to see, this Sunday.

Aches and Pains

2010-04-19T14:02:00.001+08:00

I was given a medication for a very nasty cold that didn't go down too well with me, which resulted in my sleeping in the armchair in the living room last Thursday night. My head was groggy and my nose blocked. So, Friday morning dear AHS drove me to Keramat to see this doctor who AHS has been going to for the past 27 years, to see if he could undo things.

I first met this doc after my marriage saw me migrate to this part of town. At first I didn't like the medicine he prescribed, but when I learnt he doesn't give antibiotics, he gained much respect from me. His clinic's opening hours are terrible though -- he doesn't appear till close to 10 a.m, rests between 1 p.m. and 3.p.m, and closes at 6.30 p.m. and doesn't work on Sundays and public holidays. But he is about the only doctor in town I have met who doesn't seem to be in such a rush to see his next patient; but would take the time to look in his dictionary of medicines to explain things to me. He even took the trouble to draw the insides of my abdomen when he explained why I had felt the discomfort when I consulted him on my gastritis.

Thus he explained the earlier medicine I was given causes in certain people palpitations of the heart (I did feel those); thus rather dangerous to those with high bp (I don't have that, thank goodness). It is supposed to make one sleepy, but not rested, because it causes people's brains to be active (I was thinking of so many different things, while lying prone on the bed). And so, please tell the earlier doctor not to prescribe me with it again(I will. Tomorrow). After using the nasal spray (which does not cause the stinging pain I so dread), I was already in the garden that Friday afternoon, gently but definitely ordering AHS to assist me with this and that. By Saturday, I was able to have lunch with a friend at a nice place, with my dignity intact, and not sniffling uncomfortably. On Sunday morning I was out in the garden again, weeding and repotting plants. Today,the backs of my legs are aching.

Knock, knock. Doctor...

More Sunny News, Please

2010-03-09T12:39:00.000+08:00

There hadn't been much good news this couple of weeks -- not in B.N., not in P.K.R.. Not in the weather (in other parts of the world), neither in human behaviour.

But I hope this weekend more cheer will await us; especially the S.P.M. result hopefuls. They must be starting to feel rather anxious now. Not a nice feeling, really. I remember my own anxiety and then relief when the results were finally in my hands. I managed a first grade, but nothing outstanding. My parents weren't particularly proud, I think. But it didn't matter -- then. Nowadays, the scenario is different. The media frenzy, the interviews of excellent students, parents, as well as principals -- all add up to the stress and disappointment of the average students. But never mind, the results never are worse than the last.

I hope parents and teachers have prepared themselves well. If their child does not qualify for the medical faculty, think about other alternatives such as pharmacy, physiotherapy or nursing. If the child is not eligible for a degree course, they should look into a diploma or a certificate course. Technicians are as much in demand as degree holders, if not more so. And don't we all need an electrician every now and then?

To Parade or Not to Parade?

2010-02-24T09:47:00.000+08:00

That's not the question. The question is whether we remember and try to emulate him and what he stood for.

I suppose Guan Eng has reasons good enough not to allow maulid parades. Maybe it's because people (Muslims, rather) have lost the essence of remembering Prophet Muhammad (s.a.w). Nevertheless, I doubt if Guan Eng cares what the Muslims believe in or not. It may be because it costs too much before and after the event for the local government to bear. I don't know. However, Ustaz Asri (of Perlis)put it quite nicely: there's no need for (any) religious parades or processions at all! Quite nicely -- no cost incurred prior, and no rubbish in the aftermath.

I believe remembering Rasulullah can be done minus the parades. The ceramahs or discussions about the significance of Rasulullah's mission on earth can still continue. But more than that is the ongoing reverence in private. Through the years of having parades or congregating in stadiums, with almost all of the participants having normally been coerced to take part, the essence of the maulid is lost.

I believe the day is to be remembered, as Prophet Muhammad is the last prophet who brought the final, and complete teachings of Islam. One of his main aims was to inculcate good akhlaq (manners) to the ummah. A famous hadith is that someone had asked Aishah (the Prophet's wife) what the akhlaq of Rasulullah was, and she answered: the Quran. One of Rasulullah's hadith was that none shall enter Paradise except one who has got good conduct.

I recently looked up in a few books about his akhlaq, and what this 'good conduct' was, and was reminded that it encompasses a wide range of adab. Not easy to emulate. To me, it will be and has been a very daunting task.

Let me just highlight a few from a long list: to give up pride, haughtiness, bad treatment of enemy, amassing wealth, enmity, and so on.
He was forgiving.
He used to select the easier of two things.
He used to be the first to give salam to anyone he met.
He was humble and modest.
He used to visit the sick, mend his own shoes, help his wives in their house chores...

Oh, dear. Parading is the easy part, practicing the teachings is the other.

Sixth Day

2010-02-22T10:54:00.000+08:00

The Chinese are superstitious. Certain numbers are supposed to bring prosperity, while others could spell disaster. Thus many would marry on an 'auspicious' date. This year, 10th October will surely see many Chinese couples tying the knot.

A girl born in the year of the Tiger may not be a good life partner, for 'obvious' reasons. Feng shui may be a boon to some(the Feng shui masters?) or a bane to others (architects?).

Saturday saw hubby and I trotting to a nice hotel in town, having accepted an invitation by a friend for yee sang. It's a nice, uppity hotel and I felt lighthearted. As we told our friends when they arrived later, hubby and I got 'ong', for as soon as we arrived, we could hear the doom-doom-cher of the drums and cymbals of the lion dance starting. There were three lions altogether, all manouvered by teenage boys. All were very nimble prancing away on the narrow beams, some at least six feet high. One young performer fell, though, the poor thing; but he quickly scrambled to his feet and climbed into position in no time at all. I myself prefer dancing dragons to lions. They are more regal, I feel.

So, here are some pictures of the yee sang and dim sum we had on the sixth day. Yee sang is believed to usher good luck: the higher you toss the ingredients, the better.

The Long Weekend

2010-02-17T09:56:00.000+08:00

I am sure everybody looks forward to long weekends like what we just had in Malaysia, in conjunction with the Chinese New Year. This year, I feel the Chinese New Year celebrations were rather quiet. There weren't many of the Lion dances nor the firecrackers (I know these are banned, but it never stopped them previously). My Chinese family didn't really celebrate, due to the death of an aunt on the day itself.

The break was sooo good; although most of the time I was playing catch up with the housework, did a bit of reading, and a little office work.

Basically we stayed home, apart from the visit to a friend's house on Monday. Now, I'm looking forward to next weekend! Maulid weekend.

Wakil of Rakyat

2010-02-08T11:17:00.001+08:00

Deputy Prime Minister launched the Juara Rakyat programme last weekend, which was covered quite extensively by the media. The BN people, especially so the PM and his deputy seem to work very hard these days, which is good. They should be. They should have been. There have been quite a few initiatives: the Gagasan 1 Malaysia, the KPI project for the ministers, and now the Juara Rakyat programme.

Tan Sri Muhyiddin was asked about the current support for BN. He replied it was gaining the people'support. I don't know. If its only indication is the current troubles that are happening within PKR, I don't think they translate into people's support for BN. If it is indicated by the turnout of the Juara programme, I don't think so either.

The Juara Rakyat programme was held to get BN leaders to get down to the grassroots level and get their hands 'dirty' with the everyday experiences of the people. The Wakil Rakyats have to know what is happening in their constituency, Tan Sri Muhyiddin mentioned.

Now wait a minute. Do they need a programme like this to get closer to the rakyat? Isn't it a given that when you are elected as a Wakil, you work FOR the rakyat? No need for programmes like that. No silk batiks, branded shoes, no colognes nor perfumes when you visit our wet market. No need for make up when you join us at our teh tarik warung (please do something about the drainage system). No red carpet please when you visit schools in Cheruk Paloh. Steer away from where your aides point you to, but go off the beaten track and you may find a child who is too poor to attend school, or an aunty too weak to get medical treatment and the like. Shop where we shop and persevere when you get stuck in our jams.

Haiyya, it's no rocket science. And this piece goes to the PKR and Independent Wakils. And anyone aspiring to be one.

Have a good week!

Life, and Death

2010-01-26T10:23:00.001+08:00

The living will definitely return to his Maker. This is nothing new, and we experience it within our family and closest circle of relatives and friends. And we too will one day leave this world. It is a scary thought, and sometimes I want to dismiss it. At times, though, I entertain it and thus start a string of good deeds, which will then slowly be diluted back into the norm of the daily routine.

I watched the telecast of the late Sultan of Johor's burial last Saturday. I am a sucker for these stuff: National Day parade, Pertabalan (the Agung's Installation) and the sort. (And since I can multi-task, I managed to do some ironing at the same time). It was good to see many people, royalty as well as the ordinary there to pay their last respects, so to speak. Every death is a reminder for the living of their turn to leave. What was heartwarming to me was the fact that the late Sultan Iskandar's grandsons were there to accompany the body to the Royal Mausoleum AND be part of those who went into the dug out grave and spread earth over the corpse. They were a handsome lot, I must add; and didn't seem to mind the sweat as a result of the task they undertook.

That is how things should be; not to leave the burial of one's own unto others. The royal boys have set a really good example indeed.

Back Again

2010-01-19T13:20:00.001+08:00

I'm back again at writing here. Maybe a lot slower than before!
I'd made some attempts earlier at making a comeback, but time was yet again the factor for my 'disappearance'.

Let's see... what happened in between? I am now relocated; in Gombak. How I miss PJ. I feel PJ has the vibrancy and diversity in the 'old' shops, the buildings, the good mix of people. I love driving on the elevated highway, for reasons I know not, and I love the fact that I was expert at changing into the right lanes when I needed to do so. I miss the sights I used to pass by. Now I take the MRR2, of which I feel is 'dangerous'. But, I'm closer to home.

Also hubby, AHS, went to (19/12/09) and returned from haj (22/12/09), this time doing it for his father. Quite a trial, since this time lodging was farther away from Masjidil Haram. Also the rain which was a blessing as well as a trial for the pilgrims. But alhamdulillah, all went well.

And life's really normal, work and home; work and home. The way I like it.

Sharing More of Ramadhan

2009-09-09T10:29:00.004+08:00

There is so much more of Ramadhan that I don't know about and it is just so refreshing to find out about its 'magic' and I am so excited to share with all.

One thing I learned this morning was that all of Allah's revelations were in Ramadhan: Suhuf Nabi Ibrahim, the Zabur, Taurat, Injil, and as we know, the Quran. I never knew that.

It's Ramadhan

2009-08-21T12:45:00.000+08:00

1st Ramadhan. It is awaited with some excitement and some trepidation. I hope both AHS and I are well throughout the month and can do more tarawih at the mosque (we've been performing ours at home a lot more the last few years).

We plan to go to the Taman TAR mosque Friday nights, whereas weekends we'd probably be at Taman Sri Ukay. The rest; at home: I cannot be rushed! I hope to do better than last year when I felt stresed out for some reason. I hope to read more of the Quran. I also hope not to feel envious of others. I hope to give more, in many, many ways. I hope to be a better person.

I have forgotten (again) to do a lot extra ibadah starting from Rejab, to 'catch' Lailatulqadar. I was only reminded last Friday while listening to Pahang fm (107.5) on my way to meet with friends for lunch. See, how easy it is to forget, even when doing things for our own good?

The first day will see me cooking for the daughter and family. The next day will be her turn. I've got to work 29th Aug, while I'm cooking for the son on 30th. It's his birthday. AHS and I do not hope to get invited to break fast anywhere: we prefer just to be home with our simple needs and ways. It is good to socialise, I know, but I'll save that for Shawwal. It is also good to break fast at the mosque because besides socialising, we can limit our food intake and also get inspired by others. AHS will normally lose 5 kilos by end of Ramadhan. I hope I can, too.

May this Ramadhan be better than the last for all of us. I hope our brothers and sisters in Palestine and Iraq and Afghanistan and Pakistan and Southern Thai will find more peace this time, and those in Urumqi will not be troubled. I hope the troubles everywhere will go away and no one will face hunger -- for even the few hours of fasting as we do is not easy.

To whoever's reading this post, have a blessed Ramadhan.

We Learn Something New Everyday

2009-08-18T15:41:00.011+08:00

I am glad to be able to upload pictures from the handphone to the laptop. A little late, maybe for some; but not too late for me. I got help from various people: Bloetooth, or upload? So there are pros and cons. Some very young people said, "Infra red is better, madam." And now I know what infra red is.

But I chose to upload using the USB port; it feels safer and I feel more in control.

To conclude: I'm sharing with all the pictures of herbs I have in my garden.

Tests 3

2009-08-06T12:07:00.000+08:00

From 27th to 30th July, I attended a series of workshops, compulsory for those who wish to be upgraded to a better salary grade. Yup, salary was my driving force. Mata duitan? Perhaps. However, I enjoyed myself as well, besides getting a lot of insights and new ideas for my work. 90% of the lecturers were very good. That was the easy part. We now have to submit an assignment by 14th August. I haven't done much, but just to mull over the assignment question.

And I am also mulling over another test: the divine kind. As I had recently written, we are being tested all the time; but I feel I do not 'prepare' myself for the 'examination' at the end of my life, with my Maker. It is not just the stipulated ibadah -- the five daily prayer, the fasts, reading the Quran -- that would make us closer to Allah, but it also involves our dealings with others.

Are my neighbours well? (Most difficult to find out)

Are my siblings having problems I could help? (I never really asked)

Do my parents need anything? ANYTHING? (Can I fulfill their needs like they did with (almost) all of mine when I was their dependant?)

Was there riak when I felt the lecturer was rather young to be telling me about my work? (Astaghfirullah)

etc.

Anyhow, it is a good time to reflect upon things, today being Nisf Shaaaban and all. Why is the new book of amal open on the eve of Nisf Shaaban, I wonder.

Tests 2

2009-07-21T10:59:00.001+08:00

To me, it is the start of the months of tests. Nevertheless, for Muslims, everyday is a test. Good tidings are tests, bad happenings are tests as well. But to me, come Rejab, I start becoming aware of the good that I have to observe. Yes, not so good, really, as if I am neglecting the rest of the year. But that's not true; I try that much harder from Rejab: finish the fast days I missed during last Ramadhan, do sunat ones, read the Quran a little bit more, do extra sunat prayers, take the time to visit people, start buying for people for Ramadhan and Shawal, etc.

Rejab is one of the four months (Rejab, Zulkaedah, Zulhijjah and Muharram) that warring is forbidden. And this can be extended to not to have squabbles as well, I believe. Why these four months? Only Allah knows. And I keep thinking about my fellow Muslims in Urumqi, China. I don't know why I feel so for them, more than the Palestinians. Is it because theirs is a new conflict? No. Theirs is not new. In fact, theirs has somewhat been swept under the carpet both by their own government as well as the international community. But I hope they will be patient and strive on.

One historical event that happened in Rejab was the Isra' wa Mi'raj. 27th Rejab (20th July) is Isra' (Rasulullah's journey from Makkah to Masjidil Aqsa in Bailtul Muqaddis) and Mi'raj (his journey from Masjidil Aqsa to Siddratul Muntaha, somewhere in the heavens) as well as his journey back to earth. Together with him was none other than Malaikat Jibrail. It happened not in Rasulullah's subconscious; but in fact he was very aware of what was happening. He returned to earth on the very same night.

The most significant event that happened during the Mi'raj was that Prophet Muhammad was given orders by Allah for his followers to perform prayers 50 times a day. On his way back to earth, he met several prophets (at different times in his descent) who advised him to ask for further reductions; till he was left with five. Thus the five daily prayers that we do today. The trip down was not as simplistic as I've made it to be, but that's the general essence of it.

In a few days' time will be Shaaban and Ramadhan will follow suit; then, Shawwal. I've just collected my cotton baju raya. So, now's the time to check my mother's ever full freezer and whatever else she needs. She usually needs a helping hand; and that's the greatest test for me: giving her some of my time. I'll see her in a couple of days and I hope we'll spend some quality time together.

Tests 1

2009-07-13T10:30:00.003+08:00

It was a long time since I took an examination as a student. That was a paper on evaluation, for my Masters degree many, many years ago. I still remember sitting in the examination hall with other classmates, almost all of whom were very much younger. And there was another paper in that examination hall, for undergraduates. Boy, did i feel aged! As I was answering the questions, I wondered to myself what I was doing, still writing exams. The next time around, I chose papers which only offered assignments by way of assessment.

Lo and behold, now that I am working, I still have to sit for examinations. I sat for one about 5 years back. All the questions required 'recall' type of answers. After the test, I mentioned to one of the exam setters about the 'level' of thinking required in the test: recalling; which is the lowest form of thinking skills. I told him that people of my age are better suited for 'application' type questions and higher thinking order types. Hmm, he must have mentioned it to his team members for the test soon took on a different format. I couldn't recall much really, of theories and rules. What I do now in my work is pretty automatic, just like solat. If you ask me the 13 acts that could nullify solat, I can't rattled them off; but I know. Errm... does that make sense?

The whole of last week I sat for a test, at my own pace and time, online. I spent at least an hour a day doing the test. Test-takers could review the questions ahead, prior to taking the test, but the sequence of the items were changed everytime you logged on. Quite clever, in case people worked together. There might also be one or two different questions each time. It was 'open-book' and test-takers could download notes from the note bank. My kind of test.

What was good was that you only had to pass each module, and to make sure you logged up to 13 credit hours. I have just completed my share.

Another thing that is good about the test is that I now browse the modules that I did not attempt and I'm interested to find out more about the company I work at, and the government policies.

What If You Had Everything?

2009-06-26T10:57:00.005+08:00

"How would it feel to have everything?" a friend asked me.

And, (without meaning to sound flippant) I said, "I have everything."

"No, no," she went on, "I mean, being rich."

"I'm not rich, ah?" I teased her.

Well, I am. Not in millions of dollars or even ringgit. And I do have everything.

I love the little corner house I own. The house is so small it has stopped me from thinking about adding to the furniture. I do not have a dream car. The Gen 2 I drive is an 'upgrade' from my Iswara which I totally adored. The first car I ever bought: on a weekend, after going to a Kursus Haji with a good friend. She helped me with the buying. But my current mean machine is also fine, and was a gift by my generous other half. It sits in the sun almost 24 hours a day and I don't need a 'better' car to do that.

Some husbands worry over their wives wanting better 'things'. I do too, want better things, sometimes, such as handbags and shoes and kitchen utensils and cotton blouses; but wait till the 'thing' is almost on its way to its funeral.

AHS had been asking me to upgrade from my dutiful Nokia 3310 for the longest time. Some husbands, I know would worry over their wives' wanting of 'better' this and that. Last year he gave me some money to get a new mobile phone for my birthday. It's still in the bank. Yesterday, however, he managed to get me to buy a new one.

A week ago I 'surveyed' 4 people I know are quite tech-savvy about the phones they use and what they thought was a good phone to buy. 3 of them use HTC (my sis-in-law even sent me the HTC website) and 1 is using the Blackberry. What was interesting was the amount of time taken for all of them to respond to my questions. They responded in no time at all!

N79: not the latest in the market, I know, but more than good enough for me. I'm still struggling with its functions. I like the camera feature: 5 mega pixel, if I'm not mistaken. So perhaps I will upload some pics onto this blog, once I get round to learning how to do that.

Enjoy the weekend!

Quite Harrowing!

2009-06-15T11:08:00.004+08:00

I can be quite morbid. I think about death quite a lot; and people around me are on the way there -- the alam barzakh. AHS and I went to visit a friend last Friday. He had a second bypass; but he looked good -- 2 days after the operation. The week before, we visited a neighbour who has brain tumour, but she talked about it in a matter-of-fact way. She recovered from cancer of the womb, about 10 years ago. There are also healthy people who just drop dead. My cousin's husband, not 40, died in an accident last week.

A few non-muslim friends mentioned that muslims have a better concept of death. We deal with it much better than they do. We take death as part of life, they said. It is fate. I guess so.

But in my thoughts, I decide that it is better for the living to know the reason or reasons why a person dies. I do not want a loved one to simply disappear one day, without a trace. Like a friend's father who went to work outstation, never to return. Police investigation did not lead to much. That was more than 20 years ago. There's no closure for her. Or like Sharlinie, for instance. The whole family had to uproot and start all over again.

I feel I will be ready when AHS has to breathe his last. Everyday I think of it, not in a terribly sad kind of way, but as a part of life that I have to go through. And when we have the chance to be together, I cherish it, and will not trade it for anything else. By law of nature, he, who is more than 20 years older than me would depart first. I also understand that I might be the one to kick the bucket earlier. But however it is, if AHS has to go first, I need to know why, how.

We are left with AHS' daughter's helper for three weeks, since the whole family has gone to Algeria to visit the in-laws. So, last Saturday we decided to take the maid to TESCO to get her some work clothes. She has been wearing her nice clothes, and only being here a couple of months, she does not have a sen on her. AHS would wait for us at the kopitiam when we are ready, and then get lunch.

I managed to get the maid a blouse, a pair of trousers, a pyjama bottom, bra and three panties for RM51.90! I took the opportunity to get the grocery. I normally do the grocery shopping elsewhere, so it took me a while to get things. Anyway, after a couple of hours, we rolled the trolley towards the kopitiam.

AHS wasn't anywhere in sight. OK, I thought; he must be in the gents'. After 10 minutes, I phoned him. No response. Tried again. Failed again. I got a little angry -- he must have left the machine at home. I also made a mental note that next time if we have to go separate ways, I must make sure we both have our handphones. I then told the maid to stay put, and started walking slowly towards the shops on our right. Back again. No AHS. I then asked the boys at the kopitiam. They knew hardly any Malay and not much English. Not a help at all!

Again, I walked into the shops, peering left and right, and up and down aisles. I then realised the lousy acoustics of the building. The music was blaring too loudly. If anyone were to shout for help, it would be of no use. The music would drown any other sound. When I walked back to the maid, AHS was still missing. I was quite angry now. And desperate. Where could he be? Surely he would not be going into the supermarket to search for us? Well, going into the busy supermarket would be my last resort. He had never done this.

Although I was sure AHS would not venture anywhere near the stalls outside (for he doesn't take to heat very well), I went outside and walked the length of the building. And I really wanted to shout 'Stop the %#*&# music!'. I went back inside through the door at the far end and walked into every shop from the opposite end to where the maid was. Now, I went into the shops and called AHS' name. I even went to the gents' and called out to him. No AHS. I was exasperated; and that morbidity crept in.

What if he had a lapse in his memory? I have read stories of the elderly wandering about; due to a temporary lapse in their memory. What if he fell in the restroom? What if he was mugged? It didn't help that an elderly couple lost their car in a parking lot of a hypermarket recently. Truth be told, I was quite close to tears. I went to the 'Customers' Information Centre' hoping to page for him, but I changed my mind and decided to scout every corner of the hypermarket.

I deliberately checked the pace of my stride, for I do walk very fast. Looked right: queues and checkout counters, and rows of items. Ahead: lower shelves and electrical goods at the far end. That's my destination. Looked left; books on shelves. And AHS! I almost ran towards him, calling out to him. He did not look up, still peering at the book in his hands. I called again; and this time he saw me. I was very relieved; put my arms around him, told him I thought he was lost, why didn't he reply my call? why did he wander off? how glad I was to have found him; and dragged him by the hand to where the maid was.

Relief. 'Mystery' solved. Alhamdulillah.

The Bicycle

2009-05-18T09:02:00.005+08:00

I arrived home from work on Friday and saw a bicycle, red and white Shimano, standing just inside the front door. Then I saw AHS peering, smiling, from his chair. AHS had been talking about getting a bike: a basikal bodoh (one you'd find at the gym) or a proper one. The first thing I said was 'It needs a chain'. I had been telling him not to hurry, but he said 'the body needs exercise'.

Since we got back from haj, we have not taken our walks; mainly because of AHS' problem with his Achilles tendon. I suggested swimming, since Kelab Darul Ehsan is not 5 minutes' drive away. He gave a feeble excuse. So, AHS has been cleaning the cars and sweeping the front porch for exercise. I could have suggested a multitude of other house chores for him to do in order to exercise, but I was too nice.

So, at about 6 p.m. that day, he set off on his bike, 5 rounds down Jalan 2 and up Jalan 4. before he went, I suggested for him to get a helmet and knee pads, and a bell. AHS' considering track bottoms. Hey, bicycles used to come with a front light, a bell, a lock and mudguards! But AHS had me in mind when buying his new toy: the seat can easily be adjusted up or down by pulling a user-friendly lever. And both wheels can be easily taken out too. So therefore we need 2 chains, in case we need to stop somewhere.

I'm looking forward to this afternoon, when I hope to try the bike.

'I'll Be There'

2009-05-13T14:14:00.004+08:00

I was driving to work today and was surfing the radio stations when I stopped at Lite fm; a station I stopped listening to for a long while already, for some reason. The announcer said something about nine-in-a-row non-stop music (not true!). I thought why not.

Then, they aired 'I'll Be There' by Jackson Five. Oh, that lovely clear voice of THE child -- it was simply wonderful. So pure and rich; and again, so clear. I couldn't help but to sing along, but not without being wistful; reminiscing about the Michael Jackson of today and the boy he was.

Happy

2009-04-28T13:28:00.003+08:00

I feel very happy today for numerous reasons. Some of them:

1) I have finally done the e-filing! With the help of a LHDN officer. The server was getting to be terribly slow, and after awhile it simply refused to move to the next page. A call to the helpful person and it was done. Alhamdulillah.

2) So, this means I can hop to the MPH distributors sale in Section 13!

3) I'm also glad that Lat is being feted. Many articles and activities revolving him and his sketches are being featured. Even the MPO are having a special performance this weekend on Lat's Kampung Boy. Sometimes Malaysians will give recognition when the deserving person is long gone.

4) I'm happy that I have learnt to create 'group' in Facebook. I'll try and get family members to facebook. I'll be doubly happy if my 'link' practise works. I'm trying to link Lat and MPO in number 3. And facebook too . Hope it works.

Jabbal Qubis, Makkah

2009-04-27T10:43:00.008+08:00

As I had written in my last post, I have a couple of weeks' breather. When it was hectic, I didn't even have the time to lurk into other blogs, let alone pen a few words in mine.

Much has happened in the last month or so -- birthdays and deaths, plus the ubiquitous weddings. Alhamdulillah. Many of my colleagues took the last school hols to do some globetrotting with their children. Who says there is an economic slowdown? Quite a few friends and family have gone or are going for umrah. Heavenly! What I'd like to do is go for ziarah; ie: umrah in Muharram, right after the umrah season. My brother and sis-in-law went early this year and they got to visit Mada'in Salleh -- where Prophet Salleh and his people settled. There are still traces of their civilisation, which was quite advanced, with underground water tunnels and such. Amazing. Of course, his people did not accept Allah's orders and were wiped out from the face of the earth.

I'd love to travel to Yemen, one of the poorest countries in the world; but I heard from friends who have lived and are living there by choice; it's beautiful. Not just in the scenery, but in its people who are more than welcoming. AHS and I, however, have not taken the opportunity to visit them. What a shame, I feel, but we have to prioritize. From those friends, we were told that the remains of Queen Balqis' (Sheba) reservoir can still be seen. How long ago was it built? It was Prophet Sulaiman's time!

Travelling is interesting, especially if one has the luxury of staying in a destination of choice for, I feel, longer than a week or two. Then, one is able to have meaningful exchange with the locals, rather than do the touristy rituals.

A colleague was quite excited to embark on her maiden umrah journey (15th April), asking for tips on what to do and bring with her. I also shared with her this snippet about Makkah; namely Jabbal (Mount) Qubis. Jabbal Qubis is an incline just outside of Masjidil Haram. If you face King Abdul Aziz entrance of Masjidil Haram from outside, it is that hill to your right. It used to be bereft of vegetation or building, but now it houses the King's Palace. I suppose it was very much higher than it is today. It's got, what to me is very exciting history, which keeps me amazed every time I think about it.

Well, Haj was not ordained first to Nabi (Prophet) Muhammad (p.b.u.h.) and his people. In fact, Nabi Ibrahim was earlier ordered to do so. Whether the rituals were similar to Nabi Muhammad's, I'm not certain. Nevertheless, Nabi Ibrahim was asked to get the people in the whole world to Makkah to perform the Haj. How Nabi Ibrahim did it was by calling out to people from atop of Jabbal Qubis. Just by using his voice. And everyone heard him! I honestly do not know whether people heard his voice physically or spiritually -- but nothing is impossible to the Messenger of Allah.

Oh, the reason for building the palace on Jabbal Qubis was to halt khurafat (practices against Islamic teachings).

Breathing again

2009-04-20T09:31:00.004+08:00

It was a pleasant weekend, partly because (this part of) my work will soon be complete, and I can look forward to less hectic schedule for a week or two. I brought some work home and managed about 5% of it. It felt good. Completion was not my aim; but I met my KPI.

It was a good weekend because the weekly couldn't come. So it was less hectic for me for if she had turned up, I would have found myself something to do as well. I only did the vaccuuming. I decided to let things 'rot' so to speak.

So, AHS and I had a leisurely breakfast on Saturday, at a stall in Keramat. I had mee hoon rebus while AHS, roti canai and sugar. We then headed to pasar Keramat -- AHS to the meat and poultry section, while I, the veggies. Next, it was storing time at home. By about noon, we drove to the LRT station in Jelatek to go to KLCC, which we hadn't been in several months. Lunch was at Chilli's. It was teeming with patrons; many were young families. There was a good mix of nationalities, I would say. While waiting for the food, I found peace and calm in watching from the restaurant's windows the different formations of the fountains outside KLCC. AHS found peace and calm in the billiards shown on tv.

After the good food, we traipsed upstairs to Kinokuniya. AHS was looking for books on Islam or Islamic thought; while I headed to the Arts and Craft section, looking for a belated birthday present formy niece. This time, I thought I was going to get her interested in craft. The books in that section cost a bomb! In the end, I bought a book on Bonsai for my mother for RM19.90 and a collection of essays and articles written by the late A. Samad Ismailfor RM 25.00.

We then headed towards Galeri Petronas one floor down, but AHS was distracted by the tvs in the electrical shop. So we spent around 20 minutes till I got bored and said goodbye to AHS and started walking away. We were then back on track to see Eng Tay's exhibition. It was good, and he'll be making more money in this economic slump. His paintings have got his own style to it; that't one of the secrets. Straightaway you'd know it's his piece. His paintings are of more vibrant colours than those I've seen before. His etchings are what I adore. I must find out more about this technique.

Sunday's breakfast was fried mee hoon; which I had not made in quite awhile. I broke a little sweat after breakfast working in the garden. Then it was a quick hop to the daughter's. When we arrived, I, 2+ was having a picnic with her toys under the porch, while K, 4, was in the kitchen, helping mama with the butter cake. The rest of the clan was still either asleep or in their different stages of waking up. Our legs of lamb properly thawed, we started marinating them. A couple of weeks earlier, we had an aqiqah for baby R; so the lamb.

AHS and I left the lamb for daughter to roast for dinner, while we drove home for lunch. Dinner was a delicious Algerian affair and the grandchildren were well-behaved. I had bought balloons earlier: two types: the normal ones and those that darts away making the farting noise; which was a hit with the children. We left at close to 9, leaving the parents to settle the already hyper children. It was a pleasant weekend.

Never Say Never

2009-03-20T01:36:00.000+08:00

Never say never. The phrase doesn't believe in itself, right?

Somebody once told me a very long time to never to lend money to ANYone and never to borrow. Was it my father? But he lends to people. My mother was quite unhappy to find out when he said so-and-so had not paid the RM300 he lent him. So could it have been my mother? I doubt it. She too lends; but when the time comes, she hassles you for it. That's my mother!

Last Thursday, AHS and I were picked up by a friend in the wee hours of the morning to head south to be in time for her court case. I enjoyed the trip tremendously as I was a passenger and I love mornings. It is not often I get the chance to see the break of day; and since our friend was driving, I savoured every moment of the changing skies, from the slightest trace of light, to the golden hues, to the shimmer of full sun blast. I also welcomed the prospect of being in a courtroom (without really having anything to do with the case).

The courthouse was abustle with activity. I saw some people with handcuffs on. Soon we reached the courtroom where we were supposed to be and waited outside. I could smell cigarette smoke everywhere. AHS met some old friends and they started guffawing to each others' jokes, while I took in the beautiful architecture of the colonial building. When AHS invited me into one of the courtrooms, I almost jumped up with excitement. AHS opened the door and bowed before taking a seat, and I followed suit. The place was bright and clean, but very, very grave. And why shouldn't it, when grave matters are involved.

There were four other 'spectators' besides us. We sat facing the small-sized judge on his raised throne, almost twelve metres away. He was clean-shaven, expressionless, but very alert. Directly below, seated in front of him behind a long table and facing us, was a court interpreter, while the other interpreter was with the accused, interpreting for him what the judge was saying. I would have kept on saying 'pardon me?' a number of times because the judge was so soft spoken. On our left and in front of us was the lawyer for the case.

AHS whispered to me that it was a drugs case and the judge was reading his judgment. If I were the judge, I would have sentenced the guy guilty, from the way he looked and dressed. But a look at his elderly mother (I am guessing it was his mother) and his wife, I would let him go free. It is not easy to decide on somebody's fate. The guy was acquitted. His wife and mother wiped away their tears.

To our left, sitting just inside a side door, was a policeman. Once the judgment was pronounced, the policeman rose and said what I thought was 'onnnn!'. AHS rose as did everybody else and I scrambled to my feet. Apparently, the policeman had said 'bangunnn!'

Next, it was our friend's case. One team of lawyers out, one team in; quite unceremoniously. There was no announcement of the title of the case, or anything. Everybody seemed to know what to do. Well, the case had been going on for 20 years! And all our friend wanted was her RM1 million ++ back. I know a little about the case, so I was able to follow what was happening, but explaining to the court what the lawyer asks of you is painful. Not because you have to really say what you mean to say (therefore you need to choose the right words so that you do not implicate yourself), but to say it so painfully slow: a few words at a time, so the judge can jot down what you had said. I would have lost my train of thoughts. You really need to focus.

The case was to be continued, as it lasted till late. We drove back to KL. And our friend said to me, 'Never lend money to anyone.' Hmm... she should know.

Save Us, Please!

2009-02-13T09:51:00.011+08:00

For years we've been bombarded with articles and documentaries about the depleting ozone layer and what damage pollution can do (and has done) to all living organisms from the planktons to humankind. For years we've been encouraged and enticed to do more for the environment, by NGOs and the government. And I do believe we all try to do our best, no matter how small the action is. For instance, I use old bath towels as mats for outside the bathroom, use less paper, turn on the air-con only if I'm almost drowning in sweat; and the like.

But today, on the way to work, I was absolutely appalled. Appalled by the amount of carbon-monoxide that was churned out by vehicles that got caught in the closure of roads due to some event that was tagged as something-or-other-to-do with Langkawi. We were informed of road closures. I left the house very early; any earlier and I would have had to spend the night at the office. However, I was caught, in several spurts of chock-a-block traffic from waaay back even before reaching the roads intended for closure.

I have no statistics about today's loss due to the traffic standstill, in terms of fuel, time, energy, wear and tear of the vehicles and the like. I also have no idea why we were kept off the sportsmen's routes up to at least an hour before they were due to pass. Couldn't side-roads have been open to let a trickle of motorists to pass, at least? There are surely gadgets such as the walkie-talkie or handphone that could have been used to communicate, say, 15 minutes before the competitors were to turn up? And only then close the roads to other traffic? Couldn't the event not be scheduled for a work day?

Sigh. I despair. And worse: my car managed to get past the toll gates near Eastin going to Section 17. After about 10 minutes of standstill, I wound down the windows, turned off the engine, got out my Newsweek I bought yesterday, and read away. Now, there were some motorists who managed to turn their cars in the opposite direction and tried to coax other drivers going in the right direction to give way to them!

Save us, please from people who plan things without consideration about others. Save us from ugly (behaviour of) Malaysians.

For That Haji Mabrur

2009-02-02T09:41:00.000+08:00

I hope to have obtained Haji Mabrur. It is the main supplication for any well-wisher for pilgrims to obtain Haji Mabrur. And the pilgrims' daily prayers as well. Even now, I still get wishes from friends that I got Haji Mabrur. Ameen.

Mabrur, when I asked different quarters, has slightly different meanings. Some say that it is a Haj that is accepted (by Allah, surely). "Haji yang sempurna" was what others said. Ultimately, they lead to the same, if we analyse what goes into it. It has to be a 'complete' Haj: all checked. Our hearts, our actions, our intentions; all play a part into achieving Mabrur. It is not just about completing the the stoning of the jamarat, for instance, but in choosing the stones (I saw some fellow-pilgrims washing them, even), the time we go there (after fajr), the way we go (calmly and humbly), the way we throw the stones (again, calmly, patiently). It is doing one's utmost best. That's what I believe it to be. The rest should be left to Allah.

The word 'mabrur' itself is derived from 'bir', meaning 'good' in Arabic. This is according to the mutawwif (guide) we met in Makkah. Therefore, again, everything we do must be done as best we can.

In all the Haj rituals, both parts of our relationships must be looked into: our relationship with fellow humans, as well as that with Allah (habluminAllah and habluminannas). That is why pilgrims are asked to seek for forgiveness from friends and relatives and co-workers before embarking on the journey. Thus, the preparation for a Haji Mabrur starts way before the flight to Saudi. Oh, AHS and I had our share of 'tests' way before the actual journey started. I just hope we have become better persons, after all that.

HAJ 1429

2009-01-05T13:23:00.001+08:00

Alhamdulillah, AHS and I are back at home after about 45 days in Saudi Arabia. Very soon all pilgrims will arrive in their own hometowns, and will go about doing what they routinely do. Alhamdulillah, AHS and I completed our haj process without any untoward incidents. Yes, there were the dry coughs and the sniffles. And there were the shoves right, left and centre; but those were expected. Hey, more than 2 million people congregated in that valley called Makkah and in Masjidil Haram. I also lost my voice for 2 or 3 days.

I am back at work, though not fully charged. For how could I be, when my heart is still pining for Makkah. How I had wished to exchange my flight home to a later date; but I had to think of AHS too, who I could sense had wanted to come home. He prefers Madinah.

Makkah during Haj is not an easy place to be in. When we were there it was hot and rather dusty, and typically having not much 'life' apart from that that revolved around Masjidil Haram. But that kind of life is very fulfilling, especially to a pilgrim. That's what we were there for!

I miss tawaf, difficult though it was days before and after wukuf. I enjoyed the challenge of trying to get to Hijr Ismail; but enjoyed the feeling of triumph even more when the task was accomplished. I still have sentimental feelings for the rajm (somebody corrected me whan I said 'melontar') since it wasn't a difficult journey where people pushed and got stampeded. The Saudi government had really done a good job since the collapsed tunnel incident years ago. Yes, alhamdulillah for all that. I still am thankful that I had 'good' roommates; or your stay there could be hell.

Most of all, alhamdulillah for being Muhammad (s.a.w)'s ummah.

Something to Share

2008-10-24T11:57:00.005+08:00

I am now cleaning up my office.

I have just found an old poster given to me years ago by a dear friend and straightaway thought of sharing its contents with whoever is reading this post.

These gems are something to ponder about.

QUOTATIONS FROM THE MASTER OF PIETY,

IMAM ALI

1. What refines man, is work.

2. What kills man before his death, is despair.

3. What is better than knowledge, is experience.

4. What brings man honour and esteem, is modesty.

5. What is more cherished when it is old, is a friend.

6. What gives man tranquility, is the avoidance of envy.

7. What is indeed more profitable than wealth, is wisdom.

8. What is indeed short, however long it may seem, is life.

9. What is indeed too many, however few of it there may be, is enemy.

10. What is indeed too little, however much of it one may have, is faith.

11. What is more horrific than all forms of loneliness, is selfishness.

12. What is sturdier than all other shelters, is the avoidance of sins.

Have a safe weekend!

The Holy Land Beckons

2008-10-17T09:10:00.001+08:00

The 'test' of Ramadhan has passed, but if I passed it, is another matter: it's entirely up to Him. I am now back at work, and this whole week has been hectic -- but I managed to schedule a visit to the dentist for 1 p.m. yesterday. Yucks! But it had to be done. Now, I will concentrate on my other preparations for Haj. I am not buying many new things-- just whatever's absolutely necessary. Ahh... I feel so unprepared, not like the last time: almost everything was in order.

We have done the medical -- injections and all. Tuesday we attended a briefing by Tabung Haji Travel. That started all the excitement in me, yet I am wary. The last time, I was almost uncontainable in my passion about going. I am afraid the level of my iman (if I can describe it as that) is rather low, being busy with duniawi matters. I've tried to be more patient, but only yesterday I was angry with a driver who was indecisive about which lane she should get into: 'touch n go' or 'tunai'. Grrr. The closer it gets to the date of departure (7th November), the bigger the tests have been. What I need is more patience.

This weekend, AHS and I will camp in Putrajaya mosque for the Kursus Haji Perdana. I need that. As I was reading the book on haj before bed last night, I came across something I have quite forgotten about. When asked, AHS had no clue what it was. We're in trouble! AHS, however, seems cool about going; perhaps he's more patient. I have made a list of things to bring and have taken down the biggest luggage and satrted throwing things in, as soon as I remember them, and crossing out the item in the list. Next week, hopefully I'll sort out the house, room by room. I am thankful our house is tiny.

I just make lots of doa that our trip there, our stay there and our journey back are without any untoward incidents. Hope to get Haji Mabrur.

This Eid

2008-10-08T11:50:00.010+08:00

Although some people may celebrate the Eid or Raya for a whole month, for me a week is the max.

Our Raya celebrations were done very simply, as always; this time we did not have as many people dropping by as in previous years. Possibly because the last couple of years we were staying right in front of the surau. It was quite natural for AHS to steer his friends in the direction of the house right after the prayers. So, it was serve, serve and serve till about noon.

This time there were lulls in between, enough time for us to clear up the table before the next round of guests arrived. Some even brought gifts for the new house: sooo nice of them. Our last guests left at about 9.30 p.m. and I was grateful to them for finishing my lodeh. I even made spaghetti bolognaise, for just in cases, which was swept clean as well.

On the second day, it was Kuantan: I was so excited to see my kin, especially the nieces and nephews. My, how fast they've grown. I feel that I'd missed their growing-up years. We hardly meet at other times, everyone busy with work or school. And Raya isn't the time for catching up with news or happenings; for so soon it was time to go.

Then it was time for the visits within KL. What I find this time was that most people were talking about the division of property to their children or family members after their death. It should be an easy matter, but it is made so complicated. So many considerations and 'jaga hati' to be thought of. So, is it better to leave something to your loved ones or not? So those discussions soured my Eid somewhat. We even had 'visitors' on Sunday asking AHS' advice on their mother's (mentally unstable) situation -- her sons are actually bickering to take care of her! Thank goodness AHS gave them sound advice, after a half hour discussion.

A tinge of melacholy, this Raya, for many reasons. My parents are getting older, I could see my mother having to make the extra effort -- she moves a lot more slowly than before. We still had the perennial problem of her full freezer; though I reminded her to empty it way beofre Ramadhan.

I am glad I got the chance to have a talk with my father, (on the verandah) about his concerns -- he's not a man of many words.

I didn't get to see more of the relatives I had wanted to, though. Perhaps next year.

EID MUBARAK

2008-09-26T09:46:00.002+08:00

I'm going to be away from the computer for awhile and be in the kitchen almost full time.

Wishing everyone Eid Mubarak or Selamat Hari Raya.

May this year be the best year yet.

Reflections

2008-09-22T11:52:00.001+08:00

I love having a day or two off midweek. It really feels like a breath of fresh air; and then get back into the thick of things. The most recent was last Wednesday: Nuzul Quran.

The day commemorates the fact that the Quran was revealed to Prophet Muhammad (peace unto him) in the month of Ramadhan. I have also read somewhere that it was on the night of 17th Ramadhan that the Quran was read in its entirety to the Prophet after all the revelations (which took about 23 years) were complete.

AHS and I drove down to Melaka, to do the needful to his family members and friends there, since we will celebrate Eid in Ampang as well as Kuantan. We started from home at about 9.45 a.m. It was a cooperative morning: the sun shone quite gently, and the traffic was terrific. I drove part of the way: from the Seremban R&R to the Simpang Ampat toll gates. I cannot find my way around in Melaka, despite the number of times being there; except around the Equatorial Hotel. Once the obligatory visits were made, AHS left me at Merdeka Parade, while he went off for some other errands. I had brought a book with me (a book on Dato' Onn Jaafar! entitled Imbasan Peristiwa-peristiwa Sebelum Kemerdekaan Malaya) as I had planned not to buy anything, but to find a bench and read the book. I ended up buying a blouse and a pair of shoes.

While I was browsing, looking for a suitable place to read my book, a lady who had set up a stall in the foyer called on to me to do reflexology. Now reflexology is my weakness. It ranks the same as facials and spas. Without much persuasion, I sat down on the chair and enjoyed the pain.

Every time I grimaced from the pain when pressure was put on some parts of my feet, the lady explained the 'problem' I had with the part of the body equivalent to the point being massaged on my feet . But it was a good session. It wasn't public holiday in Melaka; so the whole place was quite deserted. She charged me RM30.00 for a 40-minute session. That was a steal!

I then ventured into Parkson, and there I found, in a corner, a whole row of plastic armchairs. I plonked myself into one, which was comfortable enough, and read my book. The author is Mohamed bin Adib. The author's relationship with Dato' on is quite interesting. Adib, his father, was Dato' Onn Jaafar's nephew. Now upon Adib's father's death, Dato' Onn married his mother (Dato' Onn's sister-in-law). Tun Hussein Onn was Dato' Onn's eldest son by his second wife.

Soon, AHS phoned to say that he would pick me up in about 10 minutes. I then walked the short distance to where he had dropped me off earlier, and waited for him in the shade of a palm tree. Across the road in front of me was a massive shopping complex, on Dataran Pahlawan -- a real eyesore, in my opinion. There are just shop after shop and more shops, no different from the last one.

While I was standing there, I saw an elderly man walking briskly to the kerb not three feet away from where I was standing. He turned to wait for a couple of ladies, one around 50 while the other, around 70 years old. The younger of the two ladies arrived first at where he was, the other lady took more effort to shuffle along. He spoke briefly to the 50-ish old lady, and left. The lady stood waiting for the 70-ish old lady to reach there, spoke briefly to her, and crossed the road. The older lady tried to step off the pavement, trying to cross the road, but her judgment told her not to -- those machines are going too fast, my feet are too weary. The 50-ish lady was already across the road, waiting.

Suddenly there came two ladies in their late twenties, who stepped off the kerb, crossing the road. However, one of them noticed the old lady, turned and (I could hear her) said, "Nak jalan? Nak seberang?", grabbed hold of the old lady's hand and brought her across safely. How my heart warmed for one person, and how it broke because of the other.

I hope I would not be treated badly, especially in my old days by my own family. I also prayed that I would be patient with the elderly.

Ramadhans Past II

2008-09-15T10:09:00.005+08:00

For the life of me I cannot remember fasting at the university. I remember travelling on the night bus (Utama Ekspres) from Kuantan to Penang island, (I studied at USM) because on the way there, some Muslim passengers would say 'sok, sok, sok'. At first I didn't understand what they were on about, but soon enough I realised that they had said 'sahur'-- northern dialect.

I mean, I don't remember breaking fast with my friends or roommates on campus. Therefore, I must have been doing my practical training and was renting a room with some friends in Kedah when I was in 3rd year, and then in Asam Kumbang (Next blog entry) in my final year.

In Kedah it was quite fun, renting a room with three other friends I only met during the training stint. It was in a wooden , double storey house, typical utara kampung style. The bathroom was separate from the wc, which was situated outside the house. It was not blessed with any kind of lighting facility. So, imagine having to go at night time. We always went in pairs! Behind it was the vast paddy fields.

We were given a room upstairs. The roof was made of zinc; so you just have to imagine the heat we experienced, especially at midday. 'Hangat lit-lit' was the expression for the unbearable heat. The family we rented from stayed downstairs. When we first went to enquire about staying there, the elderly wife didn't want to take us in. (We later found out the reason.) But we managed to coax her into it. We stayed in a very small room, about 10' by 6', and slept on matresses. During the day, the mattresses were rolled up and arranged neatly against the furthest wall. Thinking about it, it was a frugal kind of life, but not lacking in fun.

The couple had a daughter who stayed at home and helped out with the house work, a son who worked in Alor Setar, a schoolgoing daughter and a son who had just got married and lived separately from them. It was a very jovial family and I was glad I went along with the other girls in renting out the room. We would come back from work and help out with the cooking; and after breaking fast we helped to clean up. Then after prayers, we would come down for some snacks, and after revising a little, we turned in. That was basically the routine.

After a couple of weeks (we were there for about three months) the makcik mentioned that we were far from what she expected. The previous tenants were not helpful (maleh), coming down only at mealtimes and never helping out. She also mentioned that they 'jalan dereh': they banged their feet loudly when walking. So she liked us.

One day, while I was taking a bath (Malaysian style) in the huge bathroom, in the heat of the afternoon, I heard something running, outside. Something big and heavy and in a big number. A while later I heard someone shouting 'Kawak, kawak'; and more running. I was wondering what that was all about, and thus paused from whatever I was doing. Hearing nothing else, not even from my landlady or her family members, I went on bathing.

After I was dressed, I went downstairs to find my friends and the landlady and her daughter as well as some neighbours talking animatedly outside the front door. I asked one of my friends what the matter was. It seemed a neighbour's cows had been taken away. The word 'kawak' came up several times in the conversation among the neighbours. When I found out that 'kawak' meant 'thieves', I was mortified. When I told them that I heard someone shouting 'kawak' while I was taking my bath, but not knowing what it meant and went on bathing, they started laughing. Well, perhaps it was funny, considering. But not for the guy who lost his cows to thieves!

It was a splendid experience, staying with that family: they were a down-to -earth family and we felt very much part of their family. And I made friends with whom I've kept in touch to this day.

Berpesan-pesan

2008-09-10T10:43:00.005+08:00

I phoned a friend, K, yesterday and we talked for quite awhile. Although we went to different schools, some of my primary school friends went to the same boarding school as she did, at secondary level, in Kuantan. So I mentioned to K that I had met up with a few friends from primary school on 29th August. S. Anita, whom K knows was there. I had organised the gathering, giving those whose contacts I had a two-week notice, suggesting to those who are working to apply for leave. We didn't have time-- Ramadhan was just around the corner. Since many were not sure of being able to make it, I suggested Nandos, KLCC as the meeting place, 1p.m. Six of us were there, and it was a very delightful meeting, so delightful that we are going to meet up again, this time in Kuantan, on 3rd Raya, inshaAllah.

We chit chatted from one topic to another. And before I hung up, I thought that it would be nice to 'berpesan-pesan', as this is the month of Ramadhan. For among the essence of Islam is for Muslims to remind each other of good/ beneficial things. So I mentioned to K that I was listening to the radio that morning and there was a talk about Ramadhan by an ustaz. In his talk in the wee hours of the morning, he mentioned that Ramadhan is a month for the muslim ummah. I'd heard of that before, but, what does it mean?

What the ustaz said made an impact on me, it made my brain spin on how I have wasted my chances, but at the same time I was glad that I heard the talk now, in the early days of Ramadhan.

Generally, the ustaz mentioned that in Ramadhan, the month for the ummah, all prayers are answered. Amazing. MashaAllah. Allah would ask the malaikats: (among others) who have asked? who have asked for taubat? for He will listen and grant what we ask for. Really, we are such a fortunate ummah, to be so special, as to have a whole month to ask and ask and ask for whatever we want to. And He will give. We just have to believe it and be patient.

Ramadhans Past 1

2008-09-05T13:46:00.000+08:00

In many literature about Islam, Ramadhan is a month that should be awaited by Muslims. But as a child, I found that a little difficult to fathom. What, not eating and drinking something to look forward to?

Looking back, I can only imagine how my mother must have toiled to make us not eat at the stipulated time and to eat at other times. I remember having difficulty waking up for the pre-dawn meal; the sahur. And my other siblings were just as difficult. So, imagine my mother having to wake up four or five or even six (as the years passed by) sleepy heads. The boys were worse. One of my brothers, when told of how difficult it was to wake him up the night before, would say: 'Kalau tak bangun juga, cubit; kalau tak juga, sepak; kalau tak juga, simbah air.' Hmm!

Waking us up was one thing, getting us to eat in the wee hours of the morning, with our senses hardly in place was another. So, went the coaxing, which would lead to threats: "Makan cepat, nanti imsak." Or "Baik makan sikit, nanti tak sakit perut." Or simply, "Makan." One of my sisters, Y, had always wanted to fast, but since she was so young still, my mother discouraged her from fasting. But Y would be unhappy if not woken up for sahur. What she did was, if she missed sahur, she would have her own, at anytime she woke up, at 6 or 7, and start fasting from that moment on. Such was her dedication. I on the other hand, would have been too happy to be prohibited from fasting.

At school, we would feel proud in fasting. We wouldn't , of course admit to friends how difficult it was to get up for sahur, that we 'almost' broke our fast, or that we cheated. We were strong, full of iman and not grumpy. But oh, yes, we were grumpy. Or was it just me? For me, it was most difficult about a couple of hours to berbuka time. So, my parents would suggest chores or revision to do to while away the time. My mother never tolerated us taking long afternoon naps. I'm thankful to her for that now.

We were expected to lend a hand in preparing for the berbuka, even when we had a helper. It could be anything -- laying the table, preparing the drinks, taking care of the younger brothers and sisters (which is specially dedicated to those who broke their fast). It was a most detested kind of chore, for me. Another sister, I, would always prepare the drinks. The usual was cincau, lychee, sirap selasih, bandung and leng chi kang. She somehow would manage to forget that she was fasting and 'absentmindedly' taste the drink that she was preparing. Every Ramadhan. That would of course spark an all-important argument among us of whether I did it deliberately, or out of amnesia.

Berbuka... feast time. We would have the radio on several minutes before breaking fast time, as a guide of sorts. There would be Quranic recitation, for more or less five minutes, which would signal all food should be ready to be brought to the table. And before the azan there would be a paticular music played, for a couple of minutes or so, which indicated all should be present at the table. For us children, that indicated the time to pile up food on our plates. I don't remember being reprimanded severely for doing that, but my mother would just say "Boleh habis ke?" Or "Jangan ambil banyak sangat lah". True enough, after the fist few mouthfuls, we would try to secretly put back the kuih in the serving plate. Then, my mother would say, "Tengok? Kan tak habis?"

When the azan came on, it was glorious time. Everything tasted so good. But sometimes we children would go overboard and became too full and that spoiled it.

How noisy we were; and in retrospect, how much fun. There must have been spills and squabbles, though. I cannot really remember.

These days, it is so difficult for us to meet and break fast together anymore. How I cherish those memories of Ramadhan on Tapioca Hill, Kuantan.

Marhaban Ya Ramadhan

2008-09-01T08:27:00.000+08:00

Ramadhan is one of the holy months in Islam, in which Muslims young and old have been ordained to fast. Muslim children are encouraged to start fasting as young as six, or even five, starting with a few hours a day. They may 'cheat'; many of us did, when we were little, I'm sure, but parents should not make too much of it, but to encourage them on. I remember it being difficult when I started, but my parents would hear nothing of it. The most common cheat was to have something to drink and then continue fasting. But as you get older, you feel there is a sense of wastefulness in cheating that way.

The sick and the infirm can skip fasting, but the sick need to replace the days missed outside of Ramadhan. Ladies who are menstruating should also not fast, and days missed need also be replaced. The musafir, or people travelling long distances can break fast, but of course they need to replace the days missed.

Why do we fast in Ramadhan? A simplistic answer is because it has been ordained on us, by Allah's command, through Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon him (PBUH). However, as with all actions in Islam, it is to attain 'Allah consciousness', to get closer to Him, to reach taqwa (to me taqwa means strong belief). Fasting is also to train the self to be more resilient, patient, considerate, to understand the hardship of the poor. It is a training ground to be giving, to avoid wastefulness-- basically to be a better person.

I remember feeling really awful: tired and hungry and irritable during Ramadhan, when I was about 10 or so . I would look at pictures in my mother's recipe books and much to my dismay, instead of letting me be, my mother made me read a book or help her cook, or help my father polish our wooden floor. The best is to make oneself useful. As I got older, Ramadhan has been a time to catch up on lost time, so to speak. One of the aspects I like is not having to think about lunch.

Fasting in Ramadhan (the 9th month in the Islamic calendar) is the third pillar of Islam, after

(1) Shahadah: proclamation that Allah is God and Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) His Messenger, and

(2) Solat: the five daily prayers of subuh, dhuhur, 'asr, maghrib and isha'.

After fasting in Ramadhan come

(4) Zakat: payment of a stipulated amount for the development of Muslims, and finally,

(5) Hajj: performing the pilgrimage to Makkah, only once in a lifetime for those who can afford.

Happy fasting. May this ramadhan be a blessed and memorable one.

Negara Ku

2008-08-21T10:18:00.011+08:00

Malaysia at 51: she hasn't done too badly, but could have been better. Politics-wise. The people are generally still very, very nice; the country still beautiful.

As a student many years ago, and now as a working adult, I look forward to Hari Kebangsaan as a day for rest (These days, rest from driving to and from work. However, the chores at home still remain). This time, 31st August falls on Sunday, which bestows Monday a public holiday. Yeayy!

I never thought of myself as being patriotic -- until some foreigner said something about Malaysia -- and I bristled. I don't go fighting physically for my country, but I think I would, if I have to. I would never fly the Jalur Gemilang (or any other flag)upside down. It just shows bad upbringing and lack of basic decency. A common vandal, Singing the Negara Ku can bring tears to my eyes, or seeing anyone intently and proudly singing their own National Anthems.

I love patriotic songs: they are catchy and short. In addition, they are sung full of spirit and not in those voices pretending to be coy and sexy (see why I love ABBA?). I remember listening to the booming voice of 'Pakcik Jamal' singing patriotic songs on radio all those years ago. I also believe all radio stations should play patriotic songs, especially in August.

I still catch Merdeka Parade on tv, while doing the chores, though. I admire those who can speak Malay without code-switching (Datuk Shahrir is good). I look up to people who know the history of Malaysia (Datuk Khoo Kay Kim -- naturally, my aunt, and Zainab, an ex-colleague). I need to brush up on my pool of knowledge about Malaysia.

SELAMAT HARI MERDEKA!

Nisfu Shaaban

2008-08-18T09:43:00.011+08:00

Last weekend saw the passing of half of Shaaban, or nisfu Shaaban (nisf is half, in Arabic). It is a day celebrated with fasting. Yes, in Islam, celebrations take on a different nature than those we normally would have. Birthdays, for instance, are supposed to be a day for reflection about being a better person, besides rejoicing another year of life.

Nisfu Shaaban indicates Ramadhan is just round the corner. I normally would fast as much as I can in Shaaban and even Rejab (the month before).

When a lot younger, when I was about 10, I used to hope my mother would forget the day. How could she when her cousins and neighbours made a fuss of it. The eve of nisfu Shaaban would see the whole kampung going to the kampung surau to perform congregational prayers, read the Yaasin (a chapter of the Quran) and zikr (chant prayers).

I had hoped she would forget the day because, not used to congregational prayers, I felt very uncomfortable, standing so close to each other. The floor was rather hard, as well, spread over with a thin mengkuang mat. It was hot too. Not like the suraus and mosques these days -- equipped with air conditioning as well as carpeted. After prayers, the eating would start. Now that was worth waiting for.

Islamic celebrations start the evening before. For instance, nisfu Shaaban is the 15th of Shaaban, but we would start celebrating the evening of the 14th, with the congregational prayers. The next day, which is the actual day is the day for fasting.

Restlessness

2008-08-13T12:18:00.018+08:00

Recently, I have felt the need to do 'something else' -- yes, to even have a career change. I discarded the thought very soon after, since I haven't the skill to do much else but what I'm employed for right now. Plus the A G E factor. Hubby, AHS, ventured into different portfolios every 12 years or so: teacher, administrator, lawyer and the legal line. And thus his friends are many.

When I was a lot younger, I wanted to be an architect. The only obstacle that dashed my ambition was math. I also harboured thoughts of becoming a background singer. Why background singer? Why, so that I can do other things when I'm not singing. And think about what songs would sound like without the background singers? I didn't pursue that ambition, but I did participate in many school and university singing events, in the choir.

But above all, I've been wanting to be creative -- to paint, or stitch or do a collage -- things along those lines. It's been a long while since I did any of those activities.

Now why the urge? Perhaps it's going back to Kuantan recently and seeing the placemats embroidered so long ago. And the tatting my mother and my aunt used to do. Or is it because I have now the time to indulge in leisure activities? I guess that's more like it. My lifestyle in the last 3 years or so had been so rushed I've not had much time to get a proper hobby anymore. There was a time when I went orienteering every weekend. It was fun, entering competitions, getting the skills and fitness, and meeting friends. I also used to follow tai-chi (46 steps) at the Lick Hung school in Subang Jaya. I must say I was exemplary!! It was like a dance; go with the flow, so to speak. It was a wonderful and rewarding experience.

So I've been browsing the arty crafty sites and have added two on this blog. I might start on a creative project soon. I'm quite eager to start, but cannot decide on which. The only thing is I want to be able to spend whole days on the project; if I leave it aside for too long, the interest may wane. That's me.

And while typing this post, I remember wanting to do a macrame hanging for my mother's glass balls (fishing buoys, really). The ones she has are really ancient. That will make her happy this Raya.

Settled for a recipe...

2008-08-05T09:38:00.006+08:00

...or two. At first I wanted to write about what's happening around me, but it will end in politics again -- too bleak and dreary. I also thought of writing on the longest 5 kilometres I ever travelled: last Sunday. It took AHS and I an hour and 40 minutes inching along less than 5 km on MRR2. We turned on the radio hoping for info on the gridlock, but to no avail. AHS then phoned the police who explained about the cracked pillar 28. Oh, not again, I groaned. We spent several millions not 5 years ago to pay the German experts to mend the problem. This time we must do something to the original contractor(s). They can't get away with this shoddy job. Yet, it was another unhappy event to write on.

I finally settled on sharing with anyone reading this post a simple, yet delightful recipe which I tried for yesterday's tea. It was given by a colleague who had a chef from Hong Kong visiting her brother. So for a couple of days, this chef would cook up simple dishes for the household. On to the recipe (without permission):

Some yam, peeled, cleaned and diced.
(Although not in the recipe, I sprinkled some salt over it)
Deep fry the whole thing till golden brown.

Pour out the oil, leaving only a little. Toss in some spring onion -- just the green part (cut to about 1" in length). Stir quickly for just a few seconds. The aroma will tantalise you.
(Low fire please)

Add a spoonful of white sugar, stirring all the time, till it caramelizes. Add the fried yam, still stirring, till it is all coated with the sugar.

Serve with freshly brewed, piping hot, kopi kampung. Yummm...

Kenduri Durian

2008-07-29T10:33:00.007+08:00

Saturday is normally full of activities at our house. It is the day the weekly turns up, as early as 8 a.m to scrub and clean for about four hours. I would be doing almost the same, or sometimes simply read. Once in a couple of months or so, the gardener would come to trim the grass and clear up, outside. If AHS goes to market, I'd have to clean and sort out whatever is bought. We would then either have lunch outside, or, when in the mood, I'd cook something.

But last Saturday AHS had inspiration for a kenduri: tahlil for family members who had passed on. And what brought about this inspiration? Durians! AHS is a 'hantu durian'. If we are on the road somewhere, and there are lots (must be the season) of durians, he will stop by the road side, choose one and we will eat the king of fruits by the roadisde. So AHS phoned me from the market, sounding quite pleased with himself, saying: "We are going to have tahlil after 'asr; I'm buying durians." I had brought back some work to complete, and wasn't feeling too good to top it up. (Notice how people would get sore throats when durians are abundant?

My dear AHS came home all eager, greeted by a sullen wife. How come I wasn't consulted? He gave the excuse: I thought there wouldn't be any durians.

Well, the tahlil was simple enough. I made pengat durian with a quarter of the durian, while the rest was eaten with santan (added with a pinch of salt), plus white sugar and scraped gula melaka on the side. Simply divine. I also brewed a pot of kopi kampung and teazan-- an Algerian concoction of tea leaves. It was a small affair with just the imam and wife, AHS' daughter's family and both AHS and myself. Amazingly the grandchildren were on their best behaviour.

I don't know why I was upset with AHS' impulsive act. It turned out very well and, in retrospect, I wouldn't have it any other way.

5 minute reverie at the barber's

2008-07-22T10:16:00.016+08:00

It was a lazy Sunday.

I like having my weekly dose of tosai at the nearby eateries, and so on Sunday, AHS and I went to Melawati. It was already way past 9. The place was full, and I was glad for that - somehow I don't like a mamak place to be devoid of customers. After we had our fill of tosai biasa and nescafe tarik, AHS headed to the barber shop a couple of doors away, while I took some negatives for reprinting. Once done (wanted to get size 5R, but it is so expensive now), I walked the short distance to the barber shop, shared with a grocer's.

I'd not been into a barber shop in ages. When I was about 4 or 5, my grandfather (Aki) used to take me to the barber shop for my haircuts. So if you see my photos before I started schooling, you'd see the length of my hair well above my ears. Yup, not a pretty sight, I can tell you; but that was my Aki's idea of looking smart. I remember going to the barber's at the junction of Jalan Dato' Lim Hoe Lek in Kuantan, riding on my Aki's Raleigh bicycle. I must say I sensed a feeling of pride, somehow, when Aki took me around. The barber's was a small setup, and they would always call out a friendly greeting whenever we stepped in.

Aki would always be near, saying soothing words and praising how good I looked afterwards. I didn't like going -- I was afraid my ears would be cut off. But now, the hairdresser can have her time doing my hair.

So last Sunday, when I stepped into the barber's, I felt satisfied -- that it was very old fashioned; similar to those in my childhood days. The shop was narrow, and the door opened to a row of 5 leather chairs facing gleaming, slanting mirrors. The mirrors delighted me. AHS hair was being snipped, and I smiled at him, not wanting to make him move if I said anything in case his ears are cut off. there were 2 other people being attended to; and I walked straight in, to chairs arranged along the wall at the end.

The barbers were very gentle. Somehow that surprised me. My hairdresser isn't as gentle. They moved their hands in graceful ways and gently massaged their clients' necks and shoulders. How I wish my hairdresser would do the same. When AHS was done, paid, and waved at the barber, I felt that it was a beautiful day. So glad.

The Oil Debate

2008-07-16T09:52:00.003+08:00

It was a good thing-- having the debate. As Datuk Shabery said: there wouldn't have been the debate if it was under the previous management team. Anwar was exceptional, I feel; no longer the shouting Anwar I used to know (even when presenting the Belanjawan). I used to cringe when he spoke so loudly when he was the DPM, when he addressed any crowd at all. His approach last night was aimed at the people, for, what should any government fight for, if not for the people, to quote him. He had substance, and he delivered it.

I am not his supporter, far from it; neither am I passionate about the current management team of the country. But after his release from the Sg. Buloh prison, I have not heard him speak, until last night. As soon as the cameras focused on him, I... sympathised with him and his plight. This was a man who was fighting for what he felt was right; someone who has been wronged. I felt tears looming for a reason that was beyond me. I prayed that both would be civilised and curteous; and they were. I hoped that they would do well; and they did. Shabery should do more research, true, but perhaps he was told not to veer from certain points -- I don't know. He poked at Anwar's past 'mistakes' and Anwar took it in stride ( I like his facial expression). Did Anwar say they (Pakatan) will support the government if they did what was suggested by Anwar? Hmm... that we have to see. I've never really listened to Shabery speak, but from last night, he was ok. He could have done better.

Last Sunday

2008-06-24T13:53:00.008+08:00

The grandchildren (O, K and M) came for a visit last Sunday. I always welcome their stay, but always thankful for the peace and quiet they leave behind.

They straightaway took out their box of broken toys from the back of the house. The mismatched pieces kept them amused. O and K even fought over a handless 'Superhero' (that's what they call it).
O: I saw it first!
K: It's (lisping) mine! It's pink.

This kind of quarrel can go on for awhile, until one of them ceases to be interested in the toy. Then the toy is of no interest to anyone and peace ensues. I'm now better trained to ignore or turn an almost deaf ear to quarrels like these.

AHS and I have stopped buying toys for them. Toys cost a fortune -- especially now that we have to buy three of each. And they get broken so soon after the children handle them. I suggested AHS to buy books like what I do for my nieces and nephews. They are tax deductable too (the books).

Then, grandad started making sort of a tent by placing a mat on the floor of the porch and tying up a blanket to pillars and grilles as its top. The three lay on the mat for a couple of minutes before running off somewhere. I then started getting dressed as I had already planned to go to Kelab Darul Ehsan to get something and volunteered to take K with me. I suspect grandad did not want to be left with the rest at home so he mooted the idea of everyone going as well. Of course there was havoc! We managed to herd all three in my car amidst cries of
'Don't leave me!'
'Pish, my shoes' (M couldn't get her shoes on)
and 'Herry up! Herry up!'
On the way there, they decided to feed the koi fish in the ponds at the Club and we talked (I did; they shouted)about the fish for awhile.
'Fish hungry'
'I like fish'
'I like fish too'
'Fish has big mouth. Like this'. O poked his finger in my side and went on 'Like this'. I turned and saw his mouth wide open. I said ' Fish very quiet, not shouting.' And so all was quiet for awhile.

We went to get the fish food, at RM 1.00 per plastic container. On the way down the stairs to where the ponds are, I managed to psyche them that they had to throw the food in little by little or else the fish would choke. The last time we went the contents were poured in in no time at all, resulting in pleas for us to get more food. So this time, either they learnt their lesson, or my psyching worked. I myself find feeding the fish therapeutic, although I wish the Management of the Club would allow stale bread to be used.

O finished his food first and pleaded with his sisters for some. Sometimes they relented but sometimes he had a firm 'No!'. When O had too many 'No's, he got grandad to the game machines -- the racing type. All of them are not in working order, but they still gaive the thrill to the 4-year old. When we joined them a little later, O enticed the girls to a few imaginary races, while I was the designated commentator and atuk the spectator. O somehow turned out the winner all the time.

Then K said, 'I want go my home'. I decided to take the scenic route home, so I said, 'Let's see if there are monkeys'.

'I don't like monkeys'
'I want go my home'
'I don't need monkeys'
Soon we saw a lot of monkeys ahead. There were a lot of big ones (male) and babies. I drove past them slowly, the children silent, intently watching the monkeys. There were a number of cars parked along the road, some people feeding the monkeys. (I don't know what the difference among members of the simian family except the macaques). These were 'beruk' according to AHS. When we finally passed them, the children said:

'I want monkeys'
'More monkeys, please!'
'I want go back'

There were a group of macaques up ahead, long-tailed. The sight fascinated the children and started the conversation (at the top of their voices) on monkeys.

It's a never ending, constant attention that the children crave that I wonder how parents cope. I wonder how my parents did it.
There are 8 of us!

Help or No Help

2008-06-12T01:50:00.004+08:00

We pulled out our 8-month old ubi kayu (tapioca) plants a couple of months ago and I immediately boiled some. And when the water was reduced, put in some gula melaka (brown sugar) and a pinch of salt. We later had the yummy ubi sira for tea. The weekly help took a whole lot home, beaming away, saying: "ini mahal di pasar malam." The tapioca were planted by the previous help, who had time on her hands. She also planted sweet potatoes (we have since pulled them out), serai (lemon grass), pandan, kunyit, kesum and lots and lots of chillies. So I'm pretty happy whenever I have to pluck things out from the garden in my cooking.

We replanted some of the ubi, this time lined outside the house; for itseems 'root' plants take up a lot of the nutrients from the earth, depriving other plants. The previous maid was a great help, especially when we first moved into our house in November 2007. When the movers left, she gamely moved the furniture this way and that, when I wondered out loud if a cabinet would be better positioned this way or that. AHS described her as half-man. Nevertheless, the half-man could also cook, having worked in a nasi padang outlet in Indonesia. I could depend on her preparing food for Raya, supervising her only once in awhile. She also preferred to work alone, I suspected, and then take all the credit. She worked with us for 2 days short of a year.

Somehow she managed to befriend a construction worker and unceremoniously fled with him, leaving none of her things behind. She is married, with 2 children! When I spoke about it to friends, they said this was a normal happening-- running away with somebody else while still married. I told our daughter's maid who lent my previous maid RM 200.00 that I would not talk about the runaway again and said I was sure she'd burn in hell.

I immediately decided not to have any live-in maid, so we got a weekly, recommended by a colleague. I cook dinner everyday, something I totaly enjoy most of the time. I aslo drag AHS to do the gardening almost every weekend. It was tiring at the start, but my calloused hands are now well-seasoned. We find our expenses reducing. I remember we had to buy the 8-litre liquid detergent every couple of months, even when we only do our washing every other day. The previous maid must have poured the contents without measuring. Without her, we also feel more relaxed at home.

It was good while it lasted, but I think we are better off, just the two of us, hardened hands and all.

What goes up...

2008-06-06T09:50:00.002+08:00

'What goes up must come down' -- that's the very optimistic view of Blood Sweat and Tears in their song 'Spinning Wheel'. I hope so, about the soaring prices of everything these days. AHS and I are cutting down on a lot, even when there's just the two of us in our household. The grandchildren are slowly taught about sharing. No longer are we buying 3 (or 4 soon) different presents everytime. Leftovers are given to the birds. And I try to cook just enough; and when I do achieve it, it's a joyous feeling. Trips out for lunch are also trips for shopping and running other errands. I would happily take the public transport if they are regular and would pass by my workplace. I don't want to reach the office looking frazzled from having to walk for 5 km.

I suppose nowadays, people would appreciate getting rice or salt or sugar as a gift, for housewarming or for any kenduri. This is what was used to be given, in the old days. I, for one, would appreciate it.

Recharged!

2008-05-26T11:00:00.002+08:00

After a 10-day break from work, I feel a whole lot better -- recharged and ready for the challenges ahead. Don't give me too much stress, though. That was why I took the break -- I was stressed to bits. Anyhow, as I was driving along Jalan TAR on the way to work today (it was stress-free driving too, being a school holiday), I saw a group of primary school students in the process of crossing the road to where a couple of buses waiting across the street. An adult (I'm presuming their teacher) was pressing the knob at the lights and a few other adults were gathering other children from the back. The teacher pressing the knob was smiling away. I couldn't help feeling good witnessing the scene. I have respect for these teachers who dared take charge of the young children on their excursion. It is an undertaking that requires dedication and passion. A whole lot of planning had to be done to ensure everything goes well. It is no mean feat. Bravo to them.

The Best Parking Place in Town?

2008-05-07T09:26:00.004+08:00

A couple of weeks ago, AHS and I went to MAS building on Jalan Sultan Ismail. Was I glad AHS was with me as the parking place was deserted. I forgave the building for its age. Visitor parking was almost unavailable, the roof was rather low and the whole place very, very quiet. We even missed the exit (it is rather hidden) and had to make another round, adding to the carbon monoxide in there.

What prompted me to write about car parks is because they may seem inconsequential, but they are the most important entity to many like me. If I were to go anywhere, it's one of the first considerations I needed to weigh: easy parking? (availability/ safety/ payment system/ accessibility). I have lately developed a mild phobia of parking spaces. I have gotten 'lost' in Mid-valley, especially when alone. The last time I was there, I made sure I stayed in the car for awhile to take in my surrounding, took extra notice of the shops around the escalator of my entrance. To me, at least, all their entrances from the basement seem the same. I had, at one point asked for the assistance of the security guard to locate my mean machine.

I wonder what has made me such a scaredy cat about basement parking lots. Could it be from the time when I was a teenager and went with my brothers and sisters to Kompleks Teruntum? My sister drove us in my mother's 1.2 red Honda Civic. As we alighted from the car, we saw two men running, one chasing the other, the guy at the back holding a pistol. Could it be the many gory stories of people getting robbed or raped in car parks? The Canny Ong episode scared me to bits. I stopped going to BSC (I think many others did so) for a long while. The next time I went, the basement was better lit.

Once, I had to make a trip to visit my ENT doctor at a hospital. Visitors have to drive to basement level 3, passing all the spaces for doctors and staff. The whole place was entirely quiet, gloomy and the aisles rather narrow. I sudddenly felt utmost fear. Heart pumping, my shoulders stiffened, my eyes darted from left to right. I had to go round and round for a parking space which I finally got. Getting to the almost hidden lift was a nightmare. The fact that the lift was very slow didn't help either. My blood pressure must have increased then. After the visit, the fear came back again, for the exit trip. I swore I would get a taxi next time -but I've had not so rosy experiences with taxi drivers before. Well, I simply have to be healthy.

I like Ikea's parking best. It is well-lit, well-ventilated, has a high ceiling and very, very open. One can't help but feel safe. The layout is not confusing -- really user friendly. A friend mentioned Sunway Pyramid's parking is pretty user friendly as well. I haven't been in about 3 years, living at the opposite end of town, now. It seems they have lights (green ones would light up) to indicate availability of parking spaces. I've only been to KLCC parking a couple of times, both times with others. Nowadays, whenever I go to KLCC, I'd take the train -- very convenient.

Of Smells and Smoke

2008-04-28T12:35:00.006+08:00

What prompted me to write this entry is the lingering smell that has followed me to the office, after stopping at two banks to get my passbooks updated. LUckily, no one has mentioned the smell. Or maybe it's just paranoid me.

Today, with AHS' assistance, I managed to get out of the house at about 7.15 a.m, to get to my9.30 a.m. dental appointment in USJ. I arrived just before 8 and went to a coffee shop and ordered warm water. All I needed was a place to read my current book: When We Were Orphans by Ishiguro. I'm sure I've read the book before, because there are snippets of it I remember, but for the life of me, cannot recall the ending. It's a tremendously good book, but that is not what this post is about.

I was reading away when my nose was terrorised by the smell of cigarette smoke. I thought smokers are not allowed to smoke in public places anymore. Some men at two tables by the entrance were puffing away, so profusely, I feared of being inflicted with cancer. But since I was too meek to protest, I sat through the smoke, but not without putting my right hand over my nose. It didn't help much, and my cotton clothes sucked in all the smell.

Cigarette smoke can give me a headache or worse, make me nauseous. When I was little, I was almost always with my grandfather (aki) till I was about 6. He smoked like a chimney, but even just before he passed away, the doctor gave him a clean bill of health. So I was almost always enveloped with secondhand smoke. But I wasn't as disgusted with the smell of my aki's cigarette smoke as I was with others'. He smoked tiga-lima, Lucky Strike; and much later when I was a teenager Pall Mall and Peter Stuyversant. He would, however, smoke outside the house or by an open window.

I remember trying to smoke one of his cigarettes. My aki used to hold a lot of kenduris (at least to my memory there were lots), and he would pass round cigarettes to the menfolk. It was at the end of such a kenduri that I saw a pack lying by and decided to try smoking. I was then 5 or 6. I know I hadn't gone to school yet. My aki was outdide, saying goodbye to the last guests. I don't recall striking the match, but I remember puffing. I don't remember how long I sucked at the cigarette, but even before my aki was back into the house, I felt my head spinning, my eyes spinning, and worse, the whole house was spinning. I also felt nauseated. I can't remember throwing up, though. I honestly don't know where the other adults were, but I'm sure I looked like a drunk monkey, stupefied by the effect of the cigarette. It was worse than the mild motion sickness that I'd sometimes get going to Cameron's. It was the most vile experience.

I must have lied down somewhere to nurse my sickness, regretting what I did. I couldn't have told the adults of my sin, I was too afraid. I can't remember what I did afterwards; but I know that that was the first and the last time I tried smoking a cigarette. Never again! Rokok kampung (minus the tobaco) was different, though.

A Breath of Cool, Hill Air

2008-04-09T09:24:00.003+08:00

AHS and I made a trip to Fraser's Hill 25th March. (How time flies. I only manage to write in my blog today!) We had always meant to go, but somehow the plan managed to get shelved, somehow. So, when I was asked to go for work, we went a day ahead. We exited Gombak, past Batu Caves and Empangan Batu. The road signs are quite good. The dam itself is huge, tranquil and scenic. We passed it at before 10a.m. and there wasn't anyone in sight. Then it was trees on both sides of the road; peaceful. There are many campsites, some private owned, I guess. There were also people who stopped by the roadside, collecting 'mineral' water from the sides of the hills, where pipes jut out.

We reached a T junction, took left, as the sign directed us and approached a small township, Hulu Yam Bharu. The shops are still made of wood, something I'm very familiar with and just so happy they exist and in full use. After the Balai Polis, the stretch of road was tree-lined, obviously the Malay area of the town; it then suddenly opened to a modern township: Batang Kali. We refilled at the Shell station, and dropped by my brother's house, a stone's throw away. After tea and roti jala, we headed to Kuala Kubu Bharu. The weather was still fine, and we wanted to reach Fraser's before it rained (I checked with the hotel people and they said it rained everyday). We bypassed the K.K.B. town and headed up to Fraser's, the road already starting to wind around the incline.

We slowed down a little as we passed the controversial dam. It was a beautiful sight, but I couldn't help thinking about the Orang Asli whose livelihood has been affected by the construction of the dam. Still, Selangor does not have enough water. And if water is made a free commodity, I can bet there will be people who have no civic consciousness and leave taps to run. And the dam in Lakum, Pahang, that is supposed to supply water to Selangor will not be of much help, I would imagine.

When we were in Fraser's, we met a guy who was happy to talk to AHS while I was working away, telling us how the dam had caused more landslides to happen. In fact, on our way up, we faced a number -- minor ones and ones that had just been cleared up. Even the new road has been closed since November. That dashed our plan to return via Raub. So we still had to take the old and (nauseatingly) winding road at the Gap. I secretly loved it: the turn taking of going up and down.

We climbed up the road at 1pm. When we reached Fraser's, it was all very quiet. The buildings at the entrance were still there; I approved silently. But Puncak Inn was a deserted, sad looking place. It used to be more alive. We took 9 o'clock at the clock tower roundabout, went past the mosque, looking forward to the park. It was deserted -- it was a week day after all. We took right and wound our way down to the Smokehouse. I was glad to be there, almost a familiar place. The friendly manager greeted us. At first I thought he was Middle Eastern, but by and by his 'Malaysianness' emerged. We ordered lunch and I took the liberty of the friendly waiter to take me all over the grounds -- it is not a big place. When we went out to the terrace outside the bar, all I wanted to do was to be there, stay there. When I declared this to AHS, he said that I should work harder to achieve that!

I simply love the fresh air. The birds were friendly, flitting away from branch to branch not that far away. No wonder the Fraser's Hill Bird Race is popular (I don't know whether they still have it). My sinuses seemed to clear, I wasn't feeling the least sniffly; what a feeling. We made a point next time we were in Fraser's, we would stay at the Smokehouse. But now, we headed to Shahzan Inn, since everybody else would be there. The room wasn't terrible, but as soon as we settled in, it poured. Hard, cold, lovely rain. So we read our books. I was into O. Henry's Short Stories Prize Winners.

Breakfast was an understatement, really. It was compensated by the birds that came by to feed at the 3 birdhouses outside te dining area. I could sit there and watch the different types of birds pick at the papaya cuts, brought out by the hotel staff. A most novel idea. There were those bold ones that came swooping down, grabbed a beakful, and pecked away; there were the cautious ones that would approach the birdhouse by way of the conifers' branches, hopping slowly in the direction of the birdhouse. Once they reach there, they'd quickly grab a piece of the fruit and off they go to peck at it on the branches nearby. But all of them were alert. Not a peaceful kind of feasting: peck, look up, turn furtively right, left, peck some more and so on. Always on te lookout.

Gone are the days when I used to try birdwatching. It wasn't easy. I was armed with a birdbook but in the end always getting confused about the type of bird I was observing and the one described in the book.

The trip did me good. For one, I now know it isn't me-- it is the air in the Klang Valley that makes me sneeze and water my eyes. I am perfectly okay, reacting as I should to rid myself of the bug trying to invade my lungs.

Remembering the beloved Prophet (s.a.w.)

2008-03-21T08:56:00.006+08:00

Tala'al badru alaina
min thaniyyatil wada'
wajabashukru alaina
ma da'a lillahi da'

O the white moon rose over us
From the valley of Wada'
And we owe it to show gratefulness
Where the call is to Allah

Ayyuhal mab'u thu fiina
ji'ta bil amril muta'
ji'ta sharraftal madina
marhaban ya khaira da'

O you were raised amongst us
coming with a work to be obeyed
You have brought to this city nobleness
Welcome! best call to God's way.

(English Translation: Yusuf Islam)

Although I didn't join in the procession for the maulid ( I hope it is not out of apathy), I tried to salawat, skimmed through Martin Ling's Muhammad: his life based on the earliest sources, and sent sms-es to friends wishing them well on that day.

I can't remember participating in any maulid procession when I was little, but I remember my father did, taking my two brothers with him. They were dressed in the baju Melayu and songkok and it seemed very festive indeed. We, the rest of the family would watch the national level celebrations on tv.

Last night, we were invited out by the children and had dinner at Kohinoor, Jalan Y. K. Seng. Son in law said in his country, Algeria, maulid is celebrated in a big way. On the day itself, just at maghrib, all lights at home are turned off, and candles are lit. Just before isha', the lights are turned on again, special dinner of couscous is served and after dinner, firecrackers start a-cracking.

AHS related that in his hometown in Malacca, they still follow the tradition of marhaban from the first of Rabiul Awwal till the twelfth.

Our Grundig Radio

2008-03-17T11:21:00.019+08:00

I was introduced to the radio very early in life, I would say. I was left with my grandparents in Kuantan till I was about six, while my parents worked in various towns in Pahang. I remember the old Grundig, which somehow looked very much like a stingray to me. Not that it was flat. In fact, the radio (which is still standing strong in my parents' house) is like a small cabinet, about three feet tall and the same in width. It is made from some kind of wood and veneer.

The top bit has one knob at either end of the radio; the one on the left for power on/ off, and the right for finding the stations. In between there is clear perspex or glass with numbers printed on it, which are the station frequencies. And there's a needle that can go left or right, in the direction you turn the knob. If the needle reaches the the 'right' number, you'll get to hear your programme. It would be my pastime to turn the knob without turning on the power. With the power on, however, it was bewitching, to me as a child. I could play with the station knob for hours, listening to the many mysterious voices that came on. Some sounded loud, some faint, some were squeaky, some sibilant, some had echoes, while others sounded delightfully good.

I remember the wailing of the Chinese opera: 'small', mournful voices, almost pleading, at the end of which had the clang of cymbals to shut it up. I remember the wayang kulit ( I think that was what it was)too, not really understanding what was said, but the stories sounded so dramatic. The tukang karut kept repeating 'aiiiik, aiiiik' all the time. I also remember 'Nida ul Islam min Makkatul Mukarramah', listened to at night. I remember the announcer's voice -- so authoritative, I thought. But it would fade off every now and then. My grandfather would pull up a chair and sit by the open window, staring into the night. The window was made of wood and he would have both the leaves wide open, letting the night air in. If there was a song he liked, he would beat his palms on the window sill, tapping to the rhythm of the song. I would be standing next to him, feeling very loved. So was I introduced to Arabic music. They are simply rich and wonderful.

The bottom part of the radio is the most amazing little cabinet. It is a cabinet with a door that opens out and downwards and remains open with the help of hinges at both sides. I was often told not to lean on the table-like door or rest my arms on it lest it collapsed.

Inside, on the right, is a turntable. On the left is some space where you can stack your records. I cannot remember my grandfather playing the records, but my aunty had a grand collection. She had Cliff Richard, Lulu, The Beatles; the whole lot. My father contributed the Malay ones: P. Ramlee (of course) etc. It fascinated me no end as to how the machine could summon the singers to the house and sing. I tried to peep into the cabinet a number of times, I remember, in case they were there. What intrigued me further was when my father put the musabaqah record on. There would be a faint echo ahead of the reader/ qari. Then the reader would read exactly what the echo read. Was there someone prompting the reader? I thought. Very mindboggling indeed. It all became sort of clear when my father explained to me to the best of his ability, how these things worked.

The turntable itself was an enigma, with the arm and the needles and the speed button (which was a novelty to my sisters and I). We enjoyed giving the records the 'wrong speed' . It was hilarious to us to listen to distorted songs.

As I reflect on things, I find it very heartwarming how my father very patiently explained to us how to work the turntable: check the record for its correct speed, set the speed button, put the record to, lift the arm gently and set it just as gently, get the needle to th right spot between the edge of the record and its grooved part, and... let the magic begin.

My third sister and I used to play the records in the afternoon after school ( we must have been in standard 4 or 5) while doing our homework. How we made sure the younger ones did not 'touch' the machine I cannot recall. We must have scared them with some kind of punishment. But those were the good old days I treasure.

Winds of Change

2008-03-10T08:48:00.007+08:00

Change is difficult, since we are creatures of habit. But sometimes change is good: it gives variety to an otherwise mundane existence. In Islam, positive change is always referred to as hijrah -- something needed, once in awhile. And from the recent polls, Malaysians want change, for the better. It seems like Malaysians are voting along racial lines. It is not just the Indians are peeved by the way they feel they have been treated, the Chinese are showing they aren't happy either. In fact, the Malays should show in a bigger way that their rights aren't being looked after.
After these years, we are saying, "BN, wake up." BN should have taken the landslide victory bestowed four years ago to pare down those who have not done their jobs well. Get old stooges who have rested on their laurels out of the way before they become a liability (Sg. Siput). Keng Yaik did it, but it could not help Gerakan. But that is another issue.Those who have been prettying themselves up should not be made Menteri Besar or Menteri as they should not have the time to go for facials, with so much work still undone (Sg. Panjang can still reform). MPs who have been accumulating wealth and drive the latest beemers should not have contested. Singers should not be the gimmick in their campaigns (Lembah Pantai should have known people do not want to party all the time). Nik Aziz's residence is practical and he doesn't waste time launching expensive outlets at new, redundant shopping malls. I don't know how Kit Siang lives, but I hope he does not have a mansion in an exclusive area in town. Wakil Rakyat after all must mewakili rakyat!
What would be interesting is to see how the Barisan Alternatif work together for the people who have chosen them. If I remember correctly, they are wont to bickering among themselves. I'd like to find out how they are going to reduce the price of petrol when it is escalating elsewhere in the world. I'd like them to share their plan to set the base salary at RM1.500.00. I demand an increase too, if that happens, for it will only be fair. I wonder if Kedah will have the gambling outlets closed down and have buses specially for the womenfolk. I'd look forward to those buses.
So, it is the time to work, YBs (now why not drop that YB prefix?). Stop living high on the hog and get down to grassroot level. Pak Lah, it starts with the man in the mirror.

Hot Topic

2008-02-15T09:04:00.002+08:00

It's the talk of town, with everybody having an election story which are almost always negative: Will there be change even if we vote?/ Nak pilihanraya je, pecah tanah sana, pecah tanah sini/ Only now my ADUN is coming to visit our area. If he had started 5 years ago, he wouldn't be panting so hard/ and so on... Is it the same in other countries, I wonder -- that people are not satisfied with the powers that be and the elections authority? As AHS said last night, everybody thinks he can do a better job. (And some think they had done a better job)

This time I feel that the atmosphere is 'not there' -- or is it 'not yet'? I felt excited before the last elections, taking photographs where there were most flags and banners, even stopping in the middle of going somewhere, just to capture the exhilirating.scene. I remember hits.fm's DJs, Lil Kev and Fly Guy (where are they now, by the way), wacky as they were, managed to get some intelligent discussion going about the looming elections then. They even sang their version of election jingle. That was good. My cousin's wedding was the night after the elections and we witnessed guests going out and coming back into the reception hall to check the elections results. There would be whispers, and animated but quiet discussion afterwards.

However, I will skip the pages about elections these few days till the contestors' names are announced. Then I will scrutinise who the candidate for my area will be. I guess it will be that same person, doing the same thing, if he were elected again. I don't mind him, or whoever really, BUT GET BETTER THINGS DONE PLEASE!

An Uncommon Man

2008-02-04T13:20:00.000+08:00

I went with AHS to Universiti Malaya 31st January amid impending flu. I could feel it coming, with the eyes already heavy and the body slightly aching . AHS was already sneezing and having a bad throat. But he drove me to work in the morning, had a nap in my office and went home after the traffic eased a bit. By 3 pm he was already back, all dressed in his black and white. The occasion was organized by UM and The Inner Temple Alumni Association, in remembrance of the late Tan Sri Dato' Seri Abdul Malek bin Ahmad, a great person, not in size, but in character.
I myself only met him one time only when he organized lunch for us just after AHS and I got married. Little did I know then, that he would lapse into the illness he was suffering from and he never recovered. Little did I know too, that he touched so many people's lives and how people could (and should) learn from the ethics that he lived by. He was, though jovial and ever smiling, a n0-nonsense person when it came to work and when it came to justice. Even before his death I had heard many talking very well of him, the meticulous person that he was, on top of being an efficient judge.
Reading the messages in the programme book, I came across this quotation by the late Tan Sri, which made me reflect upon myself, "...It has also been said that a kind and patient man who was not a profound lawyer might make a far better judge than an ill-tempered genius." I must say that it applies to all, not just to judges.
I wondered, during the ceremony, how I would be remembered by those I have met in my lifetime. I smiled ruefully. For AHS, I have had his friends telling me (beyond AHS' earshot) that I am a lucky person to be married to him; 'He's a friend you'll never forget', 'he's really a nice person, take good care of him' and 'jaga dia ni baik-baik, susah cari orang macam dia'. I agree with them.
Anyway, it was the kind of ceremony I like: brisk, straight to the point (with relevant and good speeches) and on time.
A quote from the Acting President Malaysia Inner Temple Alumni Association, who quoted (with adaptation) W.B. Yeats;

"Earth, receive an honest guest,

Abdul Malek bin Ahmad is laid to rest."

So who runs our country?

2008-01-24T08:47:00.000+08:00

Can anyone tell me? In some countries it's the First Ladies who run the show. Over here?

Since the infamous VCD cropped up, I can't help but wonder. Others behind the scenes of politics seem to have a lot more say with what to do with whom. Imagine ... only an utterence from a certain someone and things will happen (quote: 'pom, pom, pom' unquote). A character with money can put others 'in place', wrapping those in power around his fingers, with handphones and bags! No wonder documents go 'missing' right under people's noses and so there's not enough evidence to nab wrongdoers.

The scary thing is that those people involved know the law. The disgusting thing is that many are ready to lie. The next thing to do is to vote carefully when the time comes. You don't want to vote people to go romping about in hotel rooms with someone other than their wives and then talk to you about integrity and morality. However, would whomever you vote for turn out to be the same in the long run, with handphones and bags dangled before their eyes? I don't know.

So what kind of leaders would I vote for this time? Do I have a choice? Is it at all worthwhile going out to vote?

Maal Hijrah 1429

2008-01-09T13:16:00.000+08:00

Happy Maal Hijrah!
I don't know whether that is grammatical or not. Too lazy to even ask an Arabic-speaking colleague. Well 'tis a time to reflect upon what could be improved, firstly with our own self, followed by our daily dealings with our loved ones and others. For me, there's a lot to be polished.

Happy Hijrah New Year, everyone.

A Death In The Family

2007-12-27T12:48:00.000+08:00

I haven't had much time to blog or even browse. But now I write with a heavy heart. I don't know how many (or few) people read my posts, but I have to write about my beloved niece's (Aiman's) passing.

I received news from my crying mother about Aiman's death morning of 19th December. She had called earlier, but I was outside, busy with the sheep we would sacrifice the next day. I then called Aiman's elder sisters who confirmed the news. Next, I called my siblings. Almost everybody was in the midst of Eid preparations. I myself had just started boiling the ketupat and had already ran the recipe for kuah kacang, rendang and sambal tumis to my helper. She was to do the rest on her own.

Aiman was no more. I remember her as a little girl that I loved -- I lived with her family for about two years when I was just starting out. That was 18 years ago. I remember peeping into the room where my sister had put her so that my sister could have dinner. I saw this 3 month old baby gurgling away by herself, arms and legs actively 'busy'. I was amazed at Allah's creation, who, at that age could be so alert. I had wanted to pick her up but was told not to, in case she became clingy later on. I remember asking my sis whether I could keep Aiman, but she would not hear of it.

After I left the family to stay with friends, I would still visit them whenever I could. The last I met Aiman was during last Eidul Fitri, a couple of months ago. That was the time we had the children go round and round 'salam' the elders for forgiveness and duit raya. Otherwise, the adults would all be ready to give and the children had only to make a single round. That time, the adults weren't very ready. Aiman gladly went round, like the other smaller children. I also gave her a book 'Life Is an Open Secret' by Zabrina.

Her cousins were touched when we helped to bathe and kafan her . She passed away at about 11am and we buried her right after asr. My parents arrived from Kuantan after maghrib. Aiman had nothing to her name -- I saw the little that covered her -- but I believe she is at a better place now.

It is always difficult to see your loved one go before you.

Our new nest

2007-11-30T08:12:00.000+08:00

Alhamdulillah, it's been more than a month since we moved into our new home. It has not been easy moving from a bigger house to a tiny one. But that was what we wanted -- just a small pad enough for two. We are still making adjustments to the limited space -- especially for storage.

All in all, we had three loads of a 1 tonne lorry, not to mention the many trips by car to transfer our things. Then, slowly we opened the boxes to store their contents. Up to today, things still get moved, re-sorted, re boxed or given away. Most of the stuff given away have been books -- something I was very possessive about; but am now slowly 'releasing' them.

The experience was more than wonderful -- we agreed with each other on a lot of things (where to put what: there wasn't much choice anyway); but argued on a number (whether or not proper curtains should be ordered, or live with an assortment of ikats as curtains). We've had a number of friends and relatives who have dropped by. We also had a neighbour who simply walked into the house right up to the kitchen, showing her daughter our house! She has since been nicknamed Mami Jarum by AHS' son-in-law. I wish I could post pictures of the house on this blog but I lack the know-how. Soon, perhaps, when I have more time to muck about with technology.

The garden has taken shape, with plants gladly given by my parents (kantan, kesum, salom, serai, hydrangea). All of them are doing well. The helper also added tapioca and sweet potatoes to the collection. Besides those, we also planted a bamboo tree, and some palms. The red hibiscus and curry tree are the original occupants there. Next in line will be daisies, which I hope to get from my mother on our next trip to Kuantan.

What I want to be able to do is to stay at home for a full day, just to potter around.

Moving Things

2007-11-05T12:03:00.000+08:00

The last couple of weeks were spent alternating between mental exercise at work and physical exhaustion of moving house. Actually, it was moving things (left in one room) from my apartment in USJ to our new house in Ampang Jaya. First it was the helper and I packing things into boxes. That was on Sunday (28th Oct). Then on Tuesday we had the lorry people as well, to move whatever furniture to Ampang. I left a few, though, like my bed and dining table, since we would not have space for them at our small house.

On the way to USJ, I had planned to throw out a lot of the stuff. I read somewhere that if you don't use whatever you have kept in the last six months, you very well don't need it; and I was determined to follow that rule. I had actually forgotten what was left behind a couple of years ago. However, when I got there, I felt that I had discovered a treasure trove. So I'll be sorting stuff out very, very slowly.

In fact, I started sorting out last weekend -- boy, have I got a lot of Tupperware. I also was in a phase when I detested anything 'branded' and I mixed and matched dinnerware. I don't know whether AHS can live with that. We'll see.

Next, we'll be bringing our stuff from Sri Ukay to the new place -- perhaps next week. Then it will be the period of trying to settle in; what to put where and the works. In three months time I hope we will be settled in and I can work on the garden a bit.

Watched Sports Lately?

2007-10-08T08:55:00.000+08:00

I'm not much of a sportsperson. Almost all my sporting activities ended at the end of my school days. When I was in school, I took part in sports every year, basically in athletics, though I never excelled. At uni I took up orienteering, which I still continued after I started working. While working I also got involved in hiking and much later, I took up the delightful tai chi.

Nowadays I would watch sports programmes on tv. I'd watch the Olympic Games, favouring gymnastics, synchronised swimming, martial arts, wrestling and possibly athletics.

I don't have a favourite football team nor a footballer, but I try to learn a few fotballers' names in case I have to discuss football with others. I prefer rugby -- its very interesting: fast and full of drama. But don't ask me why they scrum or stand in line. I used to watch the All Blacks up to their Haka performance. I'm glad they lost to France recently to give a little bit of 'colour' to the championship. I watched a little of the game, just to accompany AHS. (AHS used to play when he was a student.) Many in our family cheered when the Springboks won the World Cup.

Lately, I've started to watch F1 races on tv since AHS is such a fan. So now I watch the burst tyres, the crashes, the fastest lap and I know what the safety car is about. I didn't use to understand why anyone would be glued to the tv for a couple of hours watching loud cars go round and round the track. At least now it's no longer Schumacher, Schumacher all the time winning the race. I', also glad Raikkonen was champion last weekend. I'd hate Hamilton if he had won. I'm watching Kubica because he has such a unique name. AHS had wanted to go to Sepang to watch F1 sometime back, but I guess my brother said something quite sensible: that you'd be watching cars whizzing past you every few seconds. And what with the noise. So now AHS has stopped talking about going.

We have started watching Bernama news at 7.30 p.m. The newscasters should not speak so fast. However, it is the only Channel I know that features the Speedway Motor Races. Kudos to them. It is a funny way of riding a motorbike, I'd say. I reckon it is frustrating to newcomers, since the tracks are difficult to manoeuvre. Speedway's got a lot of followers, mind you.

I wish Malaysia would organize (and show on tv) such fun races like the lawn mower race in UK or quirky races like the 'flying machine' races in US. That would spark the inventor in the people.

My 2 sen...

Trials and Tribulations

2007-10-05T07:41:00.000+08:00

I feel that I've been drained of a lot of energy the whole of last week. There is just so much to do before we break for Eid-- at home and at work. AHS also decided to invite guests over for iftar but both of us prefer to break fast at home -- we feel more relaxed and can take our time for prayer and all. I also wanted to do extra in the spiritual department, since its coming towards the end of Ramadhan. When I stopped to ponder the hadith that says something like: 'if you only knew the benefits of Ramadhan, you would want the whole year to be Ramadhan', I shudder to think how little I have done. What I've done in Ramadhan doesn't in the least bit reflect the greatness of this month as mentioned in the hadith.

On to a different tangent, finding out about D's husband was a shock. I pray Mr. D gets better. Lately, so many people that I know are having cancer. A colleague had her breast out recently and now undergoing chemo. It is taxing on the person. Azean Irdawaty, a friend's sister, has been very brave. The wife of our contractor is in hospital for treatment. He still whistles while laying the wooden flooring. A friend's daughter has been fighting cancer and spreading awareness among the younger generation about the illness.

All of these people are very brave. It's their dugaan from the Almighty. I don't know how I'd be able to handle the situation if it was me facing the problem; be it as the patient or the patient's relative.

To them, my respect and best wishes.

'For Some People It's A Castle'

2007-09-26T07:42:00.000+08:00

Our house is progressing pretty well and I'm rather pleased. Nevertheless, there are already possibilities of improving, by way of renovations -- maybe twenty years down the road. Right now, as I mentioned earlier, I'm pleased. We stuck to basic stuff: white or off white colours and wood. Initially we wanted Mediterranean/ Spanish effect. Well, that may come later, in the furniture. Even so we are not buying much of it, taking with us whatever we can. We've just booked a smallish but classic dining table which is simply elegant, and a couple of chairs at quite a bargain. AHS doesn't really like my old rubber wood one, which I bought at a secondhand shop almost ten years ago.

Yesterday, AHS asked me to choose paint colour for the interior. He seemed to approve. Basically, I chose shades of white such as orchid white and apple white. The spare room (for the maid) actually got my choice colour: vineyard, ie. green. The guest room: milford sound, ie. blue. The dining area's colour is called chocolate mist. I tried not to be daring. AHS always joked about the walls of my apartment: bright orange (I got the paint mixed at Handimart) and fluorescent green, at right angles. There were lilac and pinks as well. I remember having a gala time painting from one wall to another.

Now we have to work on the kitchen cabinets. I'll strive not to have too many unwanted things lying about, when we move in. Maybe this time the predominat style would be minimalistic. I don't know- time will tell.

On This Auspicious Day

2007-09-13T13:39:00.000+08:00

Ramadhan Kareem to all; and in the spirit of serenity and goodness of this month, I post the following, sent by a friend:

Carry a heart that never hates...
Carry a smile that never fades...
Carry a touch that never hurts...
And always carry a relationship that never breaks.

Tagged by D

2007-09-10T13:28:00.000+08:00

I was quite thrilled when tagged (by D) the last time, but couldn't manage due to time constraint. Wonder if they got the bus? So this time, I shall not pass the chance. So here goes:

5 things in my bag

- silver Parker ball point pen (gift from the department)

-- a note book (of ideas)

--- tissue paper (must have)

---- sweets

----- handphone

5 things in my wallet

- My Kad

-- copy of AHS' My Kad

--- Stamps

---- ATM card

----- clove (to chew on after eating fish)

5 favourite things in my bedroom

- reading lamp

--bouquet of red (cloth) poppies

--- sketch of AHS by Yusof Ghani

----Quran hantaran (big font, easier on the eyes)

----- wooden white table lamp (gift from colleagues)

5 things I like to do

- Read a good book

-- (window) shop at KLCC with AHS

--- take slow drive to nearby places

---- prepare a good meal for fuss-free friends and relatives

----- talk to my mak

5 things I am doing now

- typing this ( :))

-- reading 'Lost History'

--- Sorting out clothes (normally done before Ramadhan)

---- renovate new house

-----monintoring (2) nieces' progress in education

5 people I want to tag

Any volunteers?

Can't get anyone.

Must learn how to do this.

Must get to know more bloggers better.

Next round -- was fun!

Middle of Shaaban

2007-08-28T12:03:00.000+08:00

It's nisfu shaaban. It used to be a big event when I was little. My mother used to make us go to the surau before mahrib, making sure we wore our baju kurung. It wasn't something I looked forward to (for various reasons) and it came without warning. My mother would suddenly announce that we had to go maybe around 5 p.m. We had no escape.

The surau was just a couple of minutes away, so we had to walk. It was very safe then -- walking in and out of relatives' backyards and compounds. The only thing you had to look out for were the chicken droppings. The old surau would be well lit and swarming with people. Everybody would bring some kind of dish or another for the jamuan afterwards.

The thing I didn't like was the congested saf. Sometimes you could hardly move! You also had to literally sit on each other's right leg during tahiyat. It wasn't comfortable. If you were late, you would have to make your own saf outside the surau. That could be messy on a rainy night. Now, the surau is no longer and we would congregate to any of the mosques nearby. It is definitely more comfortable.

However, in this new place that I'm staying, the atmosphere is totally different. I almost miss the little old surau in 'Tapioca Hill'. The surau committee here has sort of lost its zest for community spirit. For I feel that that is what the celebration of nisfu shaaban is about: that's when you meet with the furthest neighbour, or a new family in the neighbourhood. It is when you could meet prospective sons/ daughters-in-law, or even life partners. It is a chance to give and take the tight saf, and to learn jamaah praying for many children. It livens up the neighbourhood.

So last night it was a tete-a-tete with AHS and our duet at yasin.

Seminars

2007-08-16T13:45:00.000+08:00

I spent the last couple of days attending a seminar on foreign languages. It was interesting, meeting educators of various languages, almost all of them teaching in Malaysia. I admire Malaysians able to speak other languages besides Bahasa Malaysia and English. I envy them a little too. I wish I was exposed to and made to learn another language when I was in school. After school, I dabbled a little at Japanese and loved everything about Japanese culture. I made the efffort to attend tea ceremonies and Japanese calligraphy when such events were available in town. I was also interested in Shinto and the Zen way. I still harbour hopes of having a house zen-like; almost spartan; zuhud?! After Japanese, it was Mandarin; and then Arabic for about three years, then back to Mandarin. I could understand Cantonese when I had many Chinese friends. But all I am stuck with is a jigsaw of words and phrases.

Some findings from the seminar: a lot more Chinese students take up another language at university level compared to Malay students. I cannot understand why Malay students don't want to grab this opportunity and learn a new language. What I feel is that the Malays are not forward thinking enough. This is the niche that they will definitely have, not just when they start working. They are not ones who would 'sahut laungan kerajaan'. Having a population of multilinguals is one of the objectives in RMK9 . But when they are left behind, they'll blame the government.

I know it is not as simplistic, but in my opinion, that is more or less the case.

Around the world

2007-08-10T08:00:00.000+08:00

I was reading a book (by Kirn and Hartman) and came across these laws that are enforced in various countries. Quite interesting:

a) In Kaunas, Lithuania, one can ride up the elevator but one must always walk down. Only three exceptions are allowed every day. (Not a totally bad regulation, I think).

b) In Warsaw, Poland, it is against the law to do sit-ups or push-ups in a bus inside the city. (Hmm... no chance of doing such things in KL: the buses are always packed).

c) In Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, it is illegal for a person to spit on other people on the street. (Ok, fair enough).

d) In Bangor, Maine, you cannot put money into another car's parking metre -- even to help another driver. If you do, you will have to pay a fine.(!!!)

e) In Oslo, Norway, if you break a traffic law, you must pay a fine to the police officer there and then. You will also be given a receipt. (I'd like to see our police emulate this.)

Have a good weekend everybody.

Children

2007-08-01T11:44:00.000+08:00

Most of the time I love children. I have more than 30 (too lazy to count and put the exact figure) nephews and nieces. I've seen it all, so to speak. I love them all. We haven't had any experience with those in the terrible teens and I hope they will not be victims of their raging hormones. I hope they love me too for I can be cranky when I choose to.

I especially love them from when they are about 3 months old (I cannot connect with days-old babies: they don't communicate) till the time they start schooling, when I feel I love them a little less. Then they somehow use a 'different' language. I in fact pity them, the poor things: having to wake up so early, riding on the bus to school, doing tons of homework ...

Last weekend I had AHS' grandchildren over. They are so much fun and terribly smart. But they tire us so much. As soon as they open their eyes around 7 a.m, they are a whirl of unbridled energy. One would be feeding the cats, one would be trying to wash the cars and one would be asking me questions like, "you go work?", "why you go work?" "you tay home?" There was just no need to clear up any mess, as the house would a shipwreck again in no time.

So we took them to feed the fish at KDE. That was a battle: we had to restrain them from pouring fish food into the pond at one go. Then we went upstairs and K went "evybaaaaaady! Where evybaaady!" at the top of her voice. When she saw people at the swimmig pool, she headed that way and the other two followed suit. They wouldn't budge from the pool area so we had to literally drag them. This was expectedly followed by resistance. They were quite confident, wagging their little forefingers at us saying "No" in the most authoritative way. One would think they were in charge. It really was hilarious. We finally managed to bundle them off into the car. There were tears, but not for long, thankfully.

Wonder why I'm not a mother. Perhaps I'd be too good with all the training I'm constantly getting.

The last three weeks

2007-07-23T07:42:00.000+08:00

It has been a hectic three to four weeks:
- training student committee (exams)members for orientation week.
- new students registered on 23rd June, followed by a series of briefings and overseeing their placement examinations.
- attending meetings to 'see' their results and that they are properly 'placed'.
- getting their timetables ready.
- meeting the new eager students in class. This semester I have engineering students: 22 boys and one girl. The girl wants to move to another class with more girls. Can't blame her: not so convenient for her now to do group work with the boys. I personally like a class with more or less a balanced number of boys and girls. My favourite would be a class of girls: so easy to do fun things like acting or read poems in different ways -- letting our hair down, so to speak.

- 2nd intake on 18th July -- 500 of them.

I hope by 25th July, we can all get on with teaching and learning.

At home, it has been equally hectic. We have just bought a 40-year old single storey corner terrace house. It's being renovated -- actually rebuilt is a better word. Friends who have been are quite thrilled with the plot of land that comes with it. A lot has to be done, from roof to floor, and I hope it will turn out nice and comfy for us. The part I don't like is the loan repayment bit.

It's been hectic: we had to get the previous tenant out. Next was the harrowing experience of discovering that thieves had taken with them anything metal. Even the metal frames of the sliding doors were not spared. I had wanted to have a word with the lawyer (who is a neighbour-to-be) but AHS had my head levelled. Then we had to decide where to put what, the room sizes, the garden...it was fun, but quite stressful for me because AHS seems to be exercising his veto power more often. It doesn't help by him being the one constantly available. Sometimes he had to make on-the-spot decisions. But so far, his taste is not bad. But I'm the practical one.

The contention also has been the colour scheme, even though that phase will only come much later. I want an orange kitchen, which hasn't gone down well with AHS yet. I also love guava green -- my friend's room is painted that colour, but AHS is still giving it a thought. Generally, he wants everything to be off-white. We'll see. Looks like I need to apply for a couple of days' leave when its time to do the kitchen.

Any hints for the kitchen are welcome.

Weddings, and More Weddings

2007-06-19T13:16:00.000+08:00

'Tis the season to be merry and to be married, I suppose. I have at least a couple of wedding invitations for each weekend for the next four weeks. Only one did I get invited to the nikah; the rest are for the receptions. It's no longer like before, I sometimes lament. No longer are you at the hosts' house, lending a hand, making menyibuk. No longer are you consulted for the colour scheme or for the best kiuh akok in the neighbourhood. Even the nikah invitation I got was to attend the ceremony, not to help out.

It didn't use to be this way, there used to be makciks from two kampungs away offering to lend a hand, or if she couldn't, she would send a representative. I no longer feel the building up of a big event coming anymore, with the marriage even of a close relative. We went to AHS' niece's wedding in Ampangan two Sundays ago, and we were 'guests'. I mentioned this to AHS and he said, "Do you really want to be helping out? You get home only at five, on a good day." He has a point, but...

My cousin's son got married on Saturday (9 th June). After much deliberation, I felt I should make myself menyibuk and turn up. And that's what I did. Maybe that's what people do not know how to do anymore -- to just be there, unannounced, unasked. We have lost that spontaneity, somewhat. But all's not lost. I went, several hours before nikah time, fussed about the hantaran, asked about the groom (who was nowhere to be seen: my cousin was frantic), chatted with my aunt who complained about the noise (but feeling really pleased about it, in secret) and when the time came, everything fell into place.

I was glad I went. We should do that more often: being there un-announced. It can be rewarding.

Water, water, but not a drop to drink

2007-06-12T12:57:00.000+08:00

There was -- more than a drop. But the irony is that our taps ran dry for about six hours last night, even when the newspapers and the news featured stories of the KL floods. Sad, but true. AHS and I had to apologise to our host for not being able to attend her function, for it was raining very heavily on the evening of 10th June. I'm glad for the decision, for otherwise we might have been one of the many who were caught in the 'mud river'. I sympathise with those struck by the calamity.

Do we really need to divert rivers? Couldn't we just work around them? When I was travelling with my father on the old road from Kuantan to KL many years ago, I asked him why the road was so winding. He said that the road had to follow the way the river flowed. I accepted that. And now I believe that was one of the wisest things people at that time did-- to work 'hand-in-hand' with nature. Just don't challenge it.

How we havebecome more advanced, but at the same time be more traumatised by what nature is capable of, I lament. It is like the weather was waiting to test the SMART tunnel. And it failed.

Pak Lah's Getting Married

2007-06-07T12:00:00.000+08:00

That was a piece of news that made my day. I was browsing blogs when I read about it in Jeff Ooi's. Then, my colleagues started asking whether it was true. One asked: is she from the Denker family in Penang? Is she from Australia? So I browsed some more; and Pak Lah confirmed it on tv: that she is Arwah Datin Seri Endon's sis in law. But we should be told more about her: her family, a little about her previous marriage, etc. In time we will, I suppose. In the meantime, I shall wait for the wedding to be shown on tv. I hope it'll be televised live. After all, Pak Lah is our number one man. To Pak Lah and Jeanne, all the best; and God bless.

Taman Negara Revisited

2007-06-04T13:35:00.000+08:00

I read an article by Tunku Aziz in Sunday's NST (27th June 2007) about the state of Pahang's forestry offices then, how trees were already logged out way back in the 60's and 70's. I got quite worked up. I love Pahang and its forests. I hope (maybe selfishly) that Pahang will not be developed in the way Selangor is: with a lot of concrete jungles. Let Pahang be developed in other ways: as the state with a lot of natural forests, as one that is a scnctuary for animals, as a source of balance of the ecosystem!

I recently (March 2007) went for my third visit to Taman Negara, Pahang. We drove down from KL, onto the new highway and followed the road signs (they were good) towards Jerantut. The road was good, with lots to see along the way. At a T-junction (after the new mosque), we took a right (left would take us to Jerantut town) and left again at a junction where a huge sawmill is. This road is narrow, and whenever I am on it, I say to myself "the journey begins". It is because the trees are bigger, the road a lot narrower, and the 'real' journey to Taman Negara starts. You can hardly see houses along this stretch of road. Not five minutes along this road we met a number of lorries, all of them carrying logs, heading towards the main road. To my untrained eyes, they seemed overloaded. And they were fast. Were they chasing commission for the trips they made?

I recalled an earlier trip, about two years back and we were met with timber-laden lorries as well; but there weren't that many. This time there were at least twenty lorries all the way to Kuala Tahan. I was alarmed at the rate the forests were being invaded. The authorities must be aware of it, I thought. There must some authoritative figure who visits Taman Negara one in awhile, I believe. So what business were the lorries doing to be able to transport out so much timber? And the stretch of road was marred by potholes almost all the way. So sad.

We stayed for one night at the resort, in one of the chalets at Mutiara. The rooms could be better kept: simple dusting would have helped. Since I am allergic to dust, I kept sneezing. So we decided to go to another hotel the next day. We decided to have tea at the restaurant (I adore the open-air concept). There were more non-Malaysians than Malaysians. The food was so-so, mainly catering to tourists. We chose a table at the side, where we could see the river. It was so calm. I could just sit there, admiring the huge trees and enjoying thinking of nothing in particular.

A couple of years ago I was here with my brothers and sisters and their families. After a trip to the Canopy, we doubled back to the little jetty to catch our boat back to the other side of the river. The children amazingly managed to hop downhill, very surefooted, despite never having the experience of being near any river. And at the edge of the river, they simply jumped in. I dared not just jump in but I trudged in anyway, not being able to resist the water. I then ventured in a little deeper; and as the water reached my nose, I wanted to lower myself down, reach the bottom and kick myself to the surface (as my father used to teach us when he threw us in the water at Teluk Chempedak three decades ago) and swim to shore not two feet away. To my horror, the soft sand gave way-- I could not kick, but instead sank further. I stuck my hands out, waved hard, and grabbed somebody. It was my nephew, Y. Skinny Y alerted my brothers and they pulled me out. Pheww. So, be careful if you go.

So, we walked around the area towards the camp site and saw a family of wild pigs sniffing away at everything along their paths. Nothing to be alarmed, as they've never charged anyone. I simply love Taman Negara. I had planned our itinerary for our stay, and mentioned it to AHS. I planned to take him first on the guided night walk, next morning to Lubok Simpon, in the afternoon to the Canopy walk and later take a boat ride up-river. He was non-committal. Night walk was vetoed. We instead enjoyed the river, from the restaurant. The cicadas (riang-riang) serenaded us with their orchestra.

After breakfast the next morning, I managed to entice AHS to Lubok Simpon. I learnt later that if one can stay in the water of the Lubok for about 20 minutes or so without feeling unduly cold, that person is sihat. The water is straight from Gunung Tahan, and is very, very cold.

The path started after the campsite. It was very clearly marked: no one can get lost if they stick to it. But as we progressed, I got more and more nervous, because there were just the two of us heading into the jungle. I didn't want a crowd, but listening to just our footsteps was somewhat eerie. After awhile, I heard the cluck of a fowl. It made me remember what my father used to say when he told us about his hunting trips: ular kadang-kadang berketak macam ayam. Oh, dear. But I just kept on. I also remembered what my friend's husband experienced: as they were walking out from a jungle in single file, they smelled goat. Now, tigers smell of goat too, some people say. So, without saying a word to each other, they picked up speed and when they reached the clearing at the edge of the jungle, they sprinted away as fast as their legs could carry them.

When I heard the sound of the river, I was quite glad, but when I peered down to where the river bank was, it was deserted. I felt fear. I only allowed AHS to rest not more than 5 minutes and hurried him on our trek back. Poor AHS was sweating profusely. When we reached the campsite again, I was so relieved. Only then I mentioned to him my fears. After that he vetoed my every plan. Later that afternoon (after lunch at the floating restaurant across the river), we checked into another resort (cheaper and cleaner) and went for teh tarik at a kampung stall. Nice!

AHS wanted to go on a boat ride, and after much discussion, we decided on going upriver (Sg. Tembeling), to Trenggan. That cost us RM70. A better trip was up Sungai Tahan, said Hamidi, the boat owner, but it would cost us RM120. So, we were taken upriver, the water was high and swift, as it had rained earlier. I had the feeling of fear and enjoyment. I prayed the boat would not capsize, because at some points, we had to cross some rapids. The trees were huge, and simply magnificent. At certain corners, there were people fishing away. We also stopped at an Orang Asli settlement. Here, we spent some taime, taking in the serene atmosphere, with Orang Asli children playing in the water not far away. However, there were unsightly plastic bags and styrofoam containers that drifted pass us that tainted the view. Otherwise, it was heavenly.

If anyone reading this has not been, do go to Taman Negara, Pahang. It is a wonderful experience. I would also recommend going by boat from Kuala Tembeling and taking in the river and all it can offer all the way to Kuala Tahan. More can be done to NOT modernise the Taman Negara area, I feel.

Missed a day already

2007-05-29T10:13:00.000+08:00

I planned to post a thought a day (except weekends) when I started blogging, but didn't manage to do it yesterday. I had ideas but was hardpressed for time. The reason for not wanting to write on weekends is so that I will spend more time with AHS. Already during weekdays we have so little time for each other. Another reason is so that AHS doesn't get hooked on the internet and writing and where would that leave me?

I managed to accompany AHS for his daily walks a couple of days last week and again today. I love the school hol as it gives me the chance to go out to work later than usual. We mostly walk around the neighbourhood, making a big loop when there's more time. We would zig-zag the rows of houses and plan our route so that we have to climb an incline. There are many walk enthusiasts in the area; some walk very early in the morning, and some even after 8 p.m. Now that's something we haven't tried. But no one is crazy enough to walk in the heat of noon, as they do in Perth, even in summer. One of the highlights of our walk for me is meeting people around the neighbourhood and picking the beautiful, red biji saga. There are about four saga trees along Jalan 2. I plan to either make a bean bag out of them or to put them in a clear glass bottle for decoration.

There's a downside to the walk too. Dog poo. I hate them. We always have to steer away from them and they are almost everywhere. The owners of these creatures should be fined. Honestly. They'll gladly take the dogs out for a walk (thank God they are on leashes) and happily wait for the dogs to do their businesses and just walk off without an ounce of conscience. And others would be having a nasty whiff of the glorious pile. And they are simply heaped on the road! Sorry to be writing about this but the owners just amaze me. They should be educated, speaking in English and all that... (I know that's not a fair assumption). There's only ONE lady who walks her dogs with a plastic bag ready -- a Caucasian lady. Nope, I guess the other dog owners who walk their dogs have not noticed the mess nor have they taken any hint from that Caucasian lady.

I lived onced next to a family who owned a dog and tied it up at the back of the house. There was no kennel nor shelter for it. On rainy nights the creature would howl and whimper until I could not take it any longer. I complained to the MPPJ (as it was then). The MPPJ must have sent a notice to the neighbour and the next thing was they let the dog out at night. As simple as that. I wonder why people keep pets.

2 sen Friday

2007-05-25T08:16:00.000+08:00

I'm going to write about Kuala Lipis, Pahang, in Malaysia. It used to be the capital town of Pahang for 57 years before Kuantan (the current capital).

Kuala Lipis is my father's birthplace. He was actually born in Jeransang, a hamlet along the main road to Padang Tengku, Kuala Lipis. Jeransang is, I would say one of the first signs of civilization after the long, winding, forested quiet road. One can really admire the trees-- the different types and sizes. So, one really has to focus on what little sign there is to get to Jeransang, else you miss it. I remember it being on the left at that corner where there's a wooden shop selling bottled Sunkist drinks: all lined up in stacks on one side of the wall. The shop belonged to my father's uncle. It was almost the life of the kampung -- where you would get your provision, and letters posted to and from.

We didn't visit Jeransang very often when we were growing up, spending most of our time in Kuantan, my mother's hometown. The few times that we went were when I was a teenager, to weddings. I found the accent (or is it dialect?) amusing; but now I know it's fascinating. Not many Malysians know the Pahang accent. Even when Pahangites meet, they seldom use it -- the total opposite from the Kelantanese. It is a lively, lilting, very fast moving way of talking. I myself can sometimes get it wrong. Another reason why Pahang accent is not well-known is because there are quite a few of them, being a huge state. People around Kuantan, especially in Beserah area speak mainly with Terengganu accent and dialect. In Pekan, the twang is again different: it has a royal grace to it, I would say. As you get towards the central part of the state, the most unique sound, not unpleasant to the ears would be distinctly heard. If you visit AZ Shell station in Batang kali on your way up to Genting (from North), talk to the proprietor -- he's from Pahang. But his accent is a little 'diluted'.

I went back to Kuala Lipis, in September 2006, this time with AHS, who had not been there in years. My last trip was 5 years earlier. We drove there from Kuantan on the new highway up to Temerloh and branched off to the right after the Temerloh toll gates. We followed this state road all the way. I recommend travelling to Lepeh (as we would call it) using this route and taking it easy. Stop by at any of the roadside stall for a cup of kopi kampung and you'll not be disappointed. And the people are just so friendly. If you happen to be there during fruit season, you will be simply rewarded with plenty. We passed Jerantut (a big town now!), Damak, Dong, Benta and Lepeh.

It was a Sunday, but I didn't think that the whole place would be deserted. I had wanted to show off Kuala Lipis to AHS, and share with him how the big colonial bungalows used to excite me, conjuring in my mind the events that these bungalows must have witnessed, every time I pass them by. Lipis is a very historical town. Why, Hugh Clifford is still remembered -- 'lending' his name to the school that is still perched on the hill. However, what we experienced was a real anti-climax. We wanted to get lunch so I suggested the Rest House atop Bukit Residen: disappointment again. The driveway was lined with lalang. We walked to the reception: further disappointment as it was no longer a lively place I used to know. Now it is reduced to a dark, sombre corner.

So we drove back down and took a left. The stadium looked promising, maybe Siti Norhaliza can bring in throngs of people to liven things up around here. The circular road brought us to a line of new buildings. We turned the corner to the bus station, where there should have been some kind of life: none. We had nasi goreng and stayed to have teh tarik. There were very few buses and people. I remember the eating places around the station used to be so full of activity, what with the railway station so close by. Before we left, we visited the toilets (not royal enough to say the lav) and they were clean! A relief! There was this man who cleaned the place -- almost non-stop. We then proceeded to the older section of the town where there used to be a floating hotel on the river: gone. We drove up to the main road again, turned left, and I looked up take a last look at Bukit Residen. It used to give me romantic ideas of plantation managers and their family members having their tea and play tennis there. AHS used to compete in tennis competitions there many, many years ago. (The tennis court is still there).

In the end I didn't get to show the big bungalows to AHS. I wanted to search for Siti Nurhaliza's house but AHS wouldn't hear of it.

Next time I must get my father to go with us. Even a dreary place like that would be livened up by his anecdotes. He has quite a few and most willing to share them.

Well, I haven't lost hope for this little place rich with history. I feel the local government should do more to keep Lipis. Visitors (foreign and local) do not always want to go to places with modern facilities.They want to see history and culture too.

Then and now, here and there

2007-05-24T12:27:00.000+08:00

A friend just got back from a trip to China (Beijing, Shanghai, Guangzhou) and came back telling of how hospitable the people are. She went with her tour guide brother who has made friends with a number of people there. They were invited to the Chinese friends' houses for meals and were taken out to visit museums and interesting places. She was totally awed by their friendliness and welcome.

A relative, whose husband is Algerian came to visit recently. He was going back to Algeria for a vacation and the wife lamented on how they had to do the shopping for gifts for (almost) everyone at home! I mean, the whole village. Her husband, H, explained that neighbours were really close knit, even closer than one's own flesh and blood. What Islamic spirit! If there's death in one's family, the neighbour will make sure your meals are taken care of, at least for the day. If there's a wedding, your neighbour will vacate his house for your faraway relatives to stay in -- don't think about booking a hotel. Aww, so nice. I even received an invitation to a khatan ceremony in December, lodgings included!

But I remember not so long ago (go back 30 years) when my grandparents 'threw' a kenduri, practically the whole kampung would turn up to lend a hand. One person would be the main organizer, and others would simply fall into their roles, literally. I suppose it wasn't as simple as that; but that is how I remember it to be. So in the end it wasn't really someone 'throwing' a kenduri, but always 'organizing' a get together where everyone works for their meal, so to speak. Some, however, would just turn up to give moral support and make merry, not lifting a finger. But these were accepted roles as well.

I guess their sense of belonging was a lot stronger then, and one certainly does not want to be the odd one out and be a social outcast. Will we live to breathe that day?

So, we were China and were were Algeria and possibly a lot of other places, that still treasure that way of life that when we experience it now, it seems alien to us. There may be a time when there are more webkenduris than virtual ones.

Boom time?

2007-05-22T08:58:00.000+08:00

Good news for all Malaysians: the salary increase for civil servants. Actually it is better news for the traders, big and small. They've already increased the prices of things and services. Servants of the private sector? They'll surely get their share in terms of bonuses, at least. Malaysians in agriculture are getting better incentives. With the right connections, they'll get big bucks; if they haven't already. People with the 'extra' coming their way should stash the 'extra' away for a rainy day (in unit trusts? how about gold?: any comments please?).

A beginning, a challenge.

2007-05-21T12:02:00.000+08:00

Quite a stressful week that was. Had to relocate staff to a new site, about 45 kilometres away, and they were informed last week. A lot of sour faces, teary eyes and angry retorts! Not to mention 'minor' threats. If they work at any other places, they would not have an aorta of a chance to tweet any disagreement ... or else! Some, I might say, are quite complacent with the way things have been and thus the reaction. Anyway, I see it as part of the job; but it was still stressful.

Blogging is a beginning too, started around two weeks ago, had a break as I was getting nowhere. Even found difficulty relocating my blog! It's good to have a break; as they say: come back with a fresh breath of air.