Life by the beach

She sells seashells by the seashore
She sells seashells by the seashore
She sells seashells by the seashore

Still remember this?

or ever tried to tie twine to three tree twigs?

I am sure that at some point in your life, you have tried reading out loud and were somewhat enthused by these tongue twisters.

Was that a long time ago? Or does that fell like yesterday when you were in high school surrounded by smiles and laughter, trouble-free minds and carefree hearts? When we were unselfishly sharing our teenage years among friends and at that time, we were only responsible for ourselves. We let the adults took care of those gigantesque tasks. After all these years, now it is our turn to worry. Our turn to shoulder the responsibilities that once were theirs. Some of us were obligated to grow up faster than others, some became wiser if not taller!

To some, age is just a number while everything else runs on autopilot. Have you ever drive a car with your mind on other things but the road? Sure your eyes were fixated on the road but you were somewhere else that after a few minutes you discovered that you were driving along a familiar road (i.e. work place, shops etc.) but nowhere to your planned destination? It was like the brain was waiting for our instruction and when we did not give any, it just automatically refer to our long-term memory. It switched on to autopilot!

Could it be that, among a group of siblings, the 'non-involved' will just wait for the 'leader' to offer the best solution to a family crisis and in a lot of occasions, there will always be the one person who unselfishly offered to carry the flag and lead the pack.

You only did this once but once is enough to let everything go on autopilot. You have volunteered yourself to dig the trench. You went deeper not knowing where this will lead you to. Do you continue to dig? maybe its time to be thinking a little bit more of ME and MYSELF above all? or the other way round (where the shoe fits!).

...

I was in Sabah a few months back, when I saw the rectangular bamboo placemats. Personally, I think it was unique. A creative ensemble by an unknown individual, whose original goal was probably making money out of a minimal pile of raw materials. A table ornament that could have easily been bought for several Ringgit from a sheltered workshop. In the end, the price scaled to several tens of dollars at the tourist market. I would have agreed to the market price even if I bought it directly from the crafter, my entire appreciation to the fine workmanship. Not that I have a table that needed a decorative item yet, I just liked it. To cut the story even shorter, the bamboo placemats stayed in my car for quite a while, until yesterday.

After several SMS and just a few minutes of planning, us friends finally met for a short afternoon tea... a gathering only held at least once a year (as our birthday could only fall on 1 out of 365.242199 days). I remembered that December calls for a special birthday gift but time had not been kind or was it me, unjustly spending time? All work and no time to think about a birthday gift. The placemats saved my day... it finally found a home (If it was a human, I probably saved it from dying of old age, dehydration and loneliness in the car).

There will always be that time when you bought something that you wanted or loved but not need and yet you bought it anyway. Sometimes you keep it for months under the bed, in the cabinet, storeroom, car boot... or somewhere safe. Keeping it standing by, just in case.

Can this theory be applied to friendship as well?

Happy birthday, my dearest friend...
May everyday be special,
make every second matters
and enjoy every moment of it.

Dear readers (assuming that I have more than one!),

I have actually started this posts much earlier but I was not in a comfortable writing mood. My mind was already composing yet it did not succeed in controlling my fingers to transfer the organised stacks of alphabet. In case you don't know, I have already gone back to work beginning the second week of December. I realised that November has the least posts. Then again, I was busy in November. I was on leave. My time was filled with nothing and everything at home in November. My close-to-a-month's holiday had been very rewarding, relaxing and de-stressing. Well, yeah... I could not have phrased it better.

So what is the significance of this post?, you may ask. Nothing, off course, that may be of much value to you. You could just leave this blogspot and google on something far more rewarding but if you have nothing exciting on your plate at the moment, you might as well stay.

Besides the reshuffling of officers and rooms around the office (as anticipated), nothing much has changed. Drivers are always zooming crazily along the highway, so I would occasionally encounter traffic accidents late morning. The statistics reaching a normal high if it rains.

The number of friends that I have remains a constant. I guess, at my age you don't normally get to meet new people... or was that because I have met all the people I should meet and there is no one else left to meet? My circle of friends remains and they still remain on the circumference BUT matters around and in between came in various contrasting colours that left me groping in the darkness. You will never fully understand any individual, even if you claimed that you've known them for years. Everyone have changed.

...and I guess, personally I have changed. My action and views on certain things have changed.

Everything in our life is in constant change, in the process of becoming something else. Nothing stays. Nothing will remain the same. Nothing remains constant except change itself.

On this note, I wish my readers (again, assuming that I have at least one), a Selamat Tahun Baru Hijrah 1431... let us together move forward, refine, add variation and widen our horizon to whatever our goals are in life. Let us pray... Robbanna Aaatina Fid Dunia Hassanah, Wa Fil Akhirati Hassanah, Waa Qi'naa 'AzaaBan Naar...

"Fish!!!"
That was her first word when she saw the river (left) and and the breaking waves (to her right). Me, Sarah, Iqah and Nissa went out for a short drive to our lovely beach today. It was quite warm and windy that afternoon. We spotted a long bench by a pine tree and settled ourselves. Iqah was excited and started pointing everywhere. Her chattering rode on the winds and reached a young couple who was snuggling comfortably on a washed up log. Somehow feeling interrupted, they stood up and started to walk away. Some boys were swimming in the sea oblivious of the raging waves.

It has been quite a while since I came here but the beach looked cleaner today. Nissa sat on my lap, her curls moving in rhythm with the breeze. She was happily accessing the situation. After a few minutes of pacing aimlessly, Iqah chose a shady spot and started singing her favourite song "Topi Saya Bundar" (Translated as My Hat is Round).

Well, I have memorized the song because she has been singing it for quite a while whenever she gets the chance. The song also got played in my head like a broken record. Because of the repeated words, I kept replacing the words and sang along. Before you even ask, here is the song lyrics,

Topi saya bundar,
Bundar topi saya,
Kalau tidak bundar,
Bukan topi saya.

Yep, only four lines... I dont know how many times you have to repeat this... Aiman gets to sing this song with his friends on stage at a school Raya celebration.

My versions,

Baju saya biru,
Biru baju saya,
Kalau tidak biru,
Bukan baju saya.

Rambut saya panjang,
panjang rambut saya,
Kalau tidak panjang,
Bukan rambut saya.

and so on...

Have fun singing ;)

It has been a week since I last typed for this blog. It has been more than two weeks since I started to assume my post as a housewife (without the 'wife' part, the man that I wanted to marry, sat on his 'high and mighty throne' and decided that I am not good enough to be his wife, so here I am, husband-less ;)- heh rephrase that, I am more or less, a cook; a chef (without the white uniform and hat).

I am beginning to enjoy this stay-at-home-to-care-for-the-household role. There seemed to be less stress on the mind but it is the physical exertion that pulled me a few recipe back. I said this before, I am not kidding... it really is tiring and all the time I was thinking about our mom that woke up early morning just to prepare breakfast, lunch and dinner without fail. Yes, we do have maids but our mom preferred to prepare the food herself. Sometimes even when she was not feeling well, she would still come up with food for us on the table. Forget about other responsibilities, cooking for the family... something that we sometimes took for granted... How much have we been appreciating these?

So, my days were filled with other responsibilities as well... and my free time? guess again. I halted on the food business and decided to try my hand at sewing. So I went off to get more thread for my mom's sewing machine. When I tried changing the bobbin (a new term I discovered after searching the Internet to find out how to put the parts to get it to work) I fumbled and was as frustrated again (This was not my first time, I did this with my sis sometimes ago and we really got difficulty getting it in place). And no, I did not get it to work properly. The needle snapped.... again!!! Hey, I am not the person that gave up easily (huh? say what?) but at that moment, I packed everything and stared at the machine, my hands still holding the nightdress that I decided to patch (my favorite deep purple-maroon dress is still in its sorry state). On the bright side, I still wear that dress every time when its not part of the laundry. So that happened to be a one day 'misadventure'.

I tried my hands at making bao (pau). The first time I found the recipe at My Resipi.com. I replaced the vegetable fat with margarine and got an edible yellowish looking bao. For the second time I finally bought the vegetable fat and got a near perfect bao (but I forgot to add the baking powder)... also edible. And just yesterday, I got every single ingredients in... and used 2 kilo of flour. The mixer was halfway to the brim that I got difficulty operating it. It was a challenge to get the ingredients to form a smooth dough... but I finally prepared about 60 pieces of soft bao which I sent to the Surau after Maghrib prayer.

Oh well, I do not want to bore you with all of my exciting kitchen adventure... so I might refrain from updating you with posts that involve any vocabulary directly related to the steam, cook or bake academy!

Just earlier this week, I wrote about my venture into the business realm. Not that I have never done it before. I was a cashier/shopkeeper/coconut grater operator while I was in my teenage years, working off my free time, after school. But this time, I went through the whole process of starting a small food business; raw materials, energy and most important, some money to start with.

My first $7.20 was followed by another $8.00 (I sold 10 packets out of 20). It seemed that I sold 50% of my products on both occasions. I did not consider strategic locations, as I was told although my time improved from 9.30 a.m. to 7.00 a.m. which basically was not early enough if you want to catch customers on their way to work. In Islam, we were advised to start early morning... you shouldn't sleep after Subuh prayer because morning is the time Allah distributed Rizqi. Rizqi would come in many forms; health, knowledge, wealth etc. This is the time when we hope for mercy from Allah, pray that Allah will always provide us with unending flow of sustenance. Allah, Most Gracious and Most Merciful.

On the first business day, I went to bed quite late. I was watching a Japanese drama series! A set of VCD that Sarah (my niece who was staying with us for the PMB holidays) brought with her, along with what looked like a travel luggage of a person planning to spend months abroad! I have never watched a Japanese drama before. The drama is crazy, funny and very touching. Although the translations were quite jerky; words were not properly organized (mind you, this is an original VCD), the messages were quite vivid. Even though none of the characters were crying, their words were so touching that I either ended up crying or misty eyed. I remembered meeting three individuals in Osaka a few years back; a University professor, a businessman and a software engineer. I actually observed how they work. They are a hard working group with fresh, creative and sometimes unusual ideas. But I am not here to talk about them. The VCDs cost me my morning... I woke up quite late. My cousin and brother unfortunately discovered nothing served on the kitchen table!

I am probably not continuing my business (after two days' experience) because I simply do not have the motivation and drive. I am not saying that its not good business, if one persevere, it can actually be a successful venture. I remembered reading a paper about a guy who complained that he is jobless while having to care for a family and pay house rent. Reporting that he could not get any job because he lack the skills. That was actually pathetic. If he just look beyond himself and go out of his comfort zone... he can go into the forest and gather banana leaves and sell it in the market. Even 'daun irik' (Phacelophrynium maximum) is marketable. You know, the leaves that people use to make 'kelupis' (rice half-cooked in coconut milk, wrapped with the leave before steaming). You don't just sit around and wait for a rescue team.

I also wanted to tell you about my nephew's fever yesterday. He woke up from sleep and was crying furiously. His temperature went up and he was drenched in sweat. I was at a lost. I am not trained to handle this kind of situation... His parents were not back from work yet. I tried calling but I couldn't get through. I panicked because I had no one to turn to. I also got their maid to panic with me. Then I realized that I am not alone... the Best of Helpers is there all along. I recite surah Al-Fatihah over and over again. I tried to recall Selawat Syifaa... but in panic mode, I just couldn't get the words correctly and in the end I recite Al-Fatihah over and over. He was in my arms, sweating profusely... until finally he stopped crying and calmed down.

I am sitting at the edge of the bed. Clean from any makeups; blushers, lipsticks, eye shadows (not that I put on makeups 98% of the time that I am awake!), fresh and ready to tackle the day... sign of a good night's sleep. Not hurrying to get out of bed yet, I was lazily flipping through a magazine. My mobile phone vibrated and I quickly pushed it aside, uninterested and not bothered by the 'missed' calls. I am on-leave, so naturally, I should not be working or even think about work. Just relaxing and doing nothing...

Doing nothing of the above!

Tuesday, 10th
Today is Day 7. I have been busy. This week has been a sort of an adjustment period for me. Taking over my parent's job is definitely not an easy task. Things that we took for granted or systems that seemed to be running on auto mode do not usually work well when it came under our care. At one stage, I was a plumber and an electrician, besides being the full-time cook and the accountant.

Yesterday, I decided to fill my time and money wisely (not that I have a lot of free time or money). I got our maid to help me cook beef, rice and some long beans early in the morning. I want to sell 'nasi bungkus'. We left it at a small kampong shop; every $1.00 per 'nasi bungkus', 20 cents will be cut off. I also sold my pizza slices. I did not prepare a lot because I reserved half of the food for lunch ;).

So yesterday, I earned my first $7.20 form selling 7 packets (out of 14) of rice and 2 slices of pizza. Not bad for a start. Considering that I finished everything and sent it to the shop at around 9.30 am (customers usually stopped by early in the morning). I was tired after all the activities and decided to take a rest today. Wow, imagine waking up at three every morning of every day (I started only after subuh prayer) just to get everything prepared by 6 in the morning. Imagine having to take back all the leftovers. The uncertainties... hmm... I am doing it again tomorrow. This time, I have better strategies.

Just being a housewife... is a lot of work. I am not kidding. It is tiring working in the office and equally tiring to manage a household. All this reminded me of how Sayyida Fatima Al-Zahra, who was a dedicated housewife asked for a servant from Rasullullah (s.a.w.) who instead taught her something better, i.e. reciting the Tasbih everytime before going to sleep.

This is a special post. I wanted to dedicate it to my brother and his wife, especially his wife, who went through the experience of giving birth to a premature baby. She commented, "now she knew how it feels... how a mother risk her own life to give birth to another..." Happy birthday to the newborn baby, may you be blessed with all the health and wealth that the world has to offer, may you always be under Allah's watch and guidance.

Just a few days back, on the 29th October to be exact, 17 years ago, a baby girl was born. I was not there at the hospital when she inhaled her first breath of fresh air. I remembered calling my dad at the hospital about the good news. I remembered precisely, when I ran down the old UBD staircase crying...and the rest is her story. Happy birthday dear sis. She might not read this post and she might not even be aware of this post's existence.

Happy birthday to all the little sisters out there. Remember the sacrifices our parents, of our mother's especially... remember the day when they fought between life and death, for us! And to everyone else, be appreciative of the fact. Some mothers exchanged their life for their babies'. There were times when you feel stressed out and wanted to stay mad with your mother... well, stop, take a deep breath and think. There are always valid reasons for their action... and if not, it is out of love and nothing less. Now that we have grown up, it is finally our turn to care for them. To all my friends and readers out there, may you be blessed with the strength, patience and love to accompany you every second. It looked easier when our mom did the job, right?

Oh by the way, all the money in the world cannot be exchanged for this love. Hahaha, sorry I am a bit emotional. Maybe I am just tired. bla bla bla... I dont feel like writing anyway...

I came home about 8.30pm. Back from work, bank, airport and hospital. Dad was busy organizing his logbook and left several tasks for me to take care for during his Hajj leave. I requested for a to-do-list. He is a pensioner but he just seemed to be working most of the time...you know, just those things that they usually do relating to plants, fruits and related activities. Luckily we have a brother who have the same hobby! Mom is busy packing and repacking their luggage (for all three of them). I haven't even seen my brother packing... and their flight will be this coming Tuesday!

I was on my way to work today, as usual. I was not feeling so good and I have a cold. With dry and sore throat, I was coughing occasionally. I had a dreamless sleep (as usual) but it was mostly sleep between coughs. So yeah, I was not feeling so well but I am not complaining. It is just one of those sick days... compared to all those other days I am healthy and not so sick that I have to stay in bed, Alhamdulillah. I am not complaining.

So I decided to drop by the hospital to get some medication, if not to eradicate, just strong enough to keep the cold virus under control. With a slight temperature, I was also given a medical certificate. So, alone at my flat, in the midst of the noise and traffic of bustling litle BSB... I am giving myself a break, well, a short pause. I still have unfinished business at work that I have to attend to before my actual leave.

Oh by the way, have I told you that I will be on a slightly long leave, just a few days short of a month? Just in less than two weeks (in about 10 days), I will give myself a break. InsyaAllah, my parents will be going on Hajj and I will temporarily take over the household business. It will be my chance to rest. I promised myself that I will not be doing any office work (or even thinking about it) and just enjoy the peace and quiet of life. Those of you who know me and those of you that I know, we have the same problem of drawing that line between life and work. Both had been seamlessly sewn that made it difficult to distinguish where one begins and the other ends.

I have dedicated 13 years of my life to work. 6 years in school and now coming to 7 years in the office. And yeah, just to kill your curiosity, I started work at 25. Along that course of life, I had the chance to come across individuals with colorful characters. I have known love and all the intricacies 'attached' to it. I have met hate after uncovering what lies beneath it. Wearing a calm front did not actually tranquilize the upcoming waves that threaten to break the shores. So far, I am saved from the Tsunami, Alhamdulillah.

So, yes I am looking forward to my leave... It is my chance to pull the handbrake at everything. Its time to recuperate.

Instruction: Write about the above topic in 120 words.
The following is a translation from a Primary four student's Bahasa Melayu exercise on the above topic.

My favorite teacher is CakguCikgu Ramlah (not her real name). She is about 20 30 50 years old. She is a very good teacher. She is sometimes strict but she is good to you if you listen to her. She likes to eat rice, mee goreng, chicken, cakes and fruits. She likes to drink coffee, tea, Pepsi, Coca-Cola, 7UP, Mirinda, Pepsi Twist, Soya Bean, orange juice, apple juice, watermelon juice, grape juice, pineapple juice, papaya juice and guava juice. I like to play

(at this point, the student paused and stared at the paper. Should he continue writing about this teacher he sees everyday in class and yet never knew much about? First of all, is this an exam topic?)

She likes to eat apple, pears, pineapple, guava, lemon, melon, oranges, grapes, durians, langsat, rambutans, dragon fruit, kembayau, mangosteen, mangoes, lychee, peach, banana, papaya, pumpkin, cucumber, berries, nuts, chillies, tomatoes, ....the list went on, until the 120th word is reached!

I made up the last paragraph anyway. I am not a Language teacher but I had a chance to sit in a class today. I sat at the back and imagined myself teaching a group of young students (which should be fun). Then came this vision of me trying to keep my room in order while my nephew and niece ran around messing with my toilet paper, scribbled drawings on the floor and spilled water color on the painting writing table. Hmm... nope, two is enough... I do not think I can handle teaching 20 kids running about and talking simultaneously, excited about doing their science activities. Imagine the bigger mess!

You either love it or hate it.
Or maybe its a love-hate relationship.

Its funny how it can be accepted and tolerated easily in some areas while it is banned in some and to an extreme... some describe it as "terrible, rotten-smelling fruit". Yes, you know who I am talking about. The king of all fruits. I have been transporting durians between home and work. I survived the dizzying pungent smell but nothing rotten about it. I could not say that I love it as I have to bear with it during my more than half an hour drive to work.

"One of these days, I will give you a durian or two!" I said to a friend. You could interpret this as a threatening statement right? hahaha imagine using the fruit as a weapon... my brother placed a small durian (a very small one) on a container in our storeroom. I accidentally shoved the container too hard that the durian fell on my foot!

One of my friends recently celebrated her birthday. A close friend. Umm... one of our best friends. At that time, I was still raking my brain trying to come up with a present. In the end, I stick a ribbon to several durians and delivered it to her home... it was her birthday gift. She responded that she could not think of anything unique or strange to give me as a birthday present in return. Well, truthfully a life-long friendship that grows with age is the best present that one could ever wish for.

A friend that stands by you, through thick and thin. A friend that does not judge but offered advice and piece or peace of mind. You seldom contacted yet when you get to meet, it was like they never left, who is always there even if you are far apart. Some friends seemed to be always fighting, never see eye to eye on even the most trivial matter and yet they remain friends. Its baffling and only understood between themselves. They have their own reasons. It is their unique kind of friendship and who are we to judge?

Imagine waking up to the smell of a freshly mowed lawn. Heh, I really do love the smell of freshly-cut grass... they are just so, umm, fresh? Well, the smell of freshly baked bread should be more tantalizing to the taste buds. When I woke up this morning, I planned to have a peaceful quiet and non-stressful day. Nothing exciting really, just perfecting my pizza-making skill.

Who am I kidding? I only have to line up the ingredients and dump it all in the bread-machine. I didn't even go shopping today. So I have to make do with whatever I can raid from our fridge and cabinets. For two large size pizzas you only need 120g of water, 1 TBSP Olive oil, 1 TSP sugar, 1/2 TSP salt, 250g Bread flour and 1 TSP instant yeast. The machine took 1 1/2 hours (mix, prove and mix in between). This recipe should also work outside the machine, just as long as you give the dough time to prove.

While waiting for my pizza-dough, I started working on my Mexican Bread recipe. The sweet bread type, its sold at Fun Bread... with crispy chocolate or vanilla layer. They used to taste good but recently, the quality seemed to have changed. I don't know, less flour maybe? more enhancer to keep the volume? I have been searching for the recipe and luckily found it in my mom's Bread Recipe book. I have tried it twice, quite a while back. My third trials today seemed to come out all right. For this particular recipe, I have to prepare the sponge and left it for 5 hours before I can prepare the dough for the bread. While at that, I prepared the toppings for my pizza. I could only find a can of Tuna and some leftover bottle of Mayonnaise and a slab of cheese.

So, you can imagine me working in the kitchen nearly the whole day covered with flour. My nephew riding his tricycle round and round the kitchen table, singing ABC over and over again (more like shouting) while my youngest niece perched on the chair, trying to grab my cooking utensils and contribute to the mess. It was a chaotic morning... but it was fun.

My sis once passed by the kitchen and raised an eye-brow, "Pizza again?".
"Yeah, I will keep working on the pizza, until everyone gets bored and couldn't take it anymore", I joked. But I was seriously considering it. It feels good if the food you made gets eaten (and get good reviews)...

So, that was my Friday. Nothing as exciting as getting lost in the jungle trying to locate a campsite (with waterfall), not as challenging as climbing up to Low's Peak before dawn (thanks for waiting for me up there, bro!), not as unpredictable as being thrown off during whitewater rafting (thanks for fishing me out of the water, Frank!) and not as frustrating as sitting in the darkness for more than 5 hours without light and air-conditioning. I have gotten my fair share of misadventures. But yeah... today was an ordinary Pizzalicious Friday

Exhausted.
Mentally and physically.
I am mentally and physically wiped out.
I have been trying to post on this blog for several days but I was not able to manufacture the words. I also started to write on my reports but stopped on the first sentence. I had things to say but I couldn't find the words.

I cleaned my room but I couldn't find what I was looking for. Maybe I shouldn't have scrubbed the floor. I washed my car this week (My cousin from Kuching who stayed for three days helped). This is a record for this year. Gloating over a spotless unsoiled vehicle does not help either. No, polish. That will take an extra special effort from me. The rain came just a few minutes of wiping it dry (no kidding!).

A colleague bought me a brooch. A shiny letter of the alphabet. Less than a day of fixing it up my scarf, I discovered it missing. How sad is that? To add salt to the wound, my cell phone's (just bought last year) mic is not working. I could hear my caller at the other end, calling my name several times before giving up. After a Motorolla, two Sony Ericcsons, a Nokia, two LGs later, I ended up with a cheap china Ferrari phone. Not a brand name (I dont think this has any) but it really looked like a toy car (This is my favourite phone of all, not counting the iPhone that I admired but is hesitant to buy at moment). I thought, this will conclude my love affairs with phones. The rest either ended up stolen, bestowed to a cousin, lent to a nephew, given to a niece or missing in action. The SMS function is still in working condition. Maybe, this is all that I need. Maybe this is enough.

I missed chatting with our youngest sister. I concluded that she was busy preparing for her exams. One of my sister is still mad at me, I think. I was trying to give advices. If you have younger sisters or brothers, you know how it is. If you kept quiet, you lead them to think that they are doing everything right but if you offered your mind, you became the bad guy. I am bone-tired of being the big sister that always get the cold shoulder. It is sometimes frustrating.

On a brighter note, Alhamdulilah, I am still alive, well and able to sample the World's wealth and happiness, for now.

Time has not been able to stop thoughts.
Distance was never far enough.
Feelings were always unfathomable.
Presence were never seen,
always heard and felt.
All four never showed compassion,
for I am the way I am and will be.

...for always...

Leisurely wrestling with thoughts, I stumbled across a can of words. With product label as brown as a berry and expiry date as dead as a door-nail, the content could be hazardous. A baffling construction of LEGO pieces. This could be LOVE defined.

A strange being, LOVE is. Instead of something solid, it could be gaseous at room temperature. Some need it just like they need air to breathe. It could intoxicate because others would die for it. Just like food, it should be taken in moderation. Imagine drinking Pepsi. Left open, the dissolved gas escaped. Try to drink it without the frizzle and sizzle.

A gas does not have a definite shape. It assumed any shape it is in and takes up whatever space is offered. Love recognizes no boundaries. A mother would do anything in return for her child's comfort, safety and happiness.

Just like tear gas, you either break down in tears or it tears you down. It could be reactive or as stable and unreactive as noble gases. Love could show indifference and kept to itself. Just like noble gases, they do not need others. OR DO THEY?

"Lai, jangan bejurit. Kamah karita bapa karang eh. Masuk tia sampah atu dalam pelastik. Tu nah, tin minuman ah."
"Ani pa? inda mau lagi ni?" the whole family shared the responsibility of cleaning up their car. It was spotless. The father taught the children well. Neat home, car, well kept garden... they could win an award for cleanliness!
"Di mana membuang ni pa?"
"Humban saja keluar tabuk lai. Ada urang memutik tu karang!"

I don't like cats but I do not hate them. Me and cats, we had an agreement that they can stay and will get food as long as they stay out of the house. As long as they disposed off their personal 'stuff' appropriately i.e. no spray-painting walls or decorate floors with rejected food. Not the type to display affection neither am I a heartless person, I once gave food to a skinny cat that passed our house. Observing closer, its skin was peeling off everywhere. Someone could have poured it with hot water. It died the next day under the shade of our garage. On the morning of our first Aidilfitri, a small cat died in our drain. The day before, I gave him some food and saved him from an army of red ants. My sisters and cousins buried him in our front lawn.

Our sis left for UK today. The airport crowded with friends and family members, it could had easily been the Hajj season but THAT was not the reason I included this paragraph. I was walking back to our car, parked furthest from the airport. The dimly lit walkway exposed a plastic bag full of waste. Somebody had definitely been cleaning off their car and 'accidentally' thrown their leftovers. Food remains and a diaper that jumped off the plastic bag were evident.

Just few days back, I was sitting on the porch of a house on stilts. A friend's (and a relative). From across the seemingly clear water, I observed a boy cleaning what looked like a cage, a pet's paradise. He simply discarded dirty plastic sheets into the river below. An easy task for him. Closer to the water edge, a salamander crawl over a tree trunk dodging off floating remains of household items, clothing, disposable diapers, banana peel and even a piece of waste that could have easily been floating for more than ten years, to be shared for generations to come!

23rd September...
...also celebrated as Teacher's Day
Happy birthday to dearest cousin, LV
Happy birthday to dearest nephew, HA

and Mom's upcoming birthday, 27th September

and its my birthday today!

So here I am, sitting in front of the PC
whistling (in a broken tune)

Happy Birthday to You 2x
Happy Birthday to You and Meee.....
Click your birthday card here to see...

I am not in the writing mood at the moment...
Please forgive me.

Aidilfitri is here again and I said,
"yes, you can stay but I won't be able to spend a lot of time with you," With only two public holidays, I need to give work a rest. This celebration is my chance to put my feet up (precisely that). But Aidilfitri insisted that whether I like it or not, I will be caught up in the work flow. Friends and relatives, dressed in colorful, glittering and costly apparel... and at times, strangers knocking on the door. Everyone is welcome, after all, it is Hari Raya. I am expected to welcome guests.
"you should go out more. I mean, you should go out. Period." Aidilfitri argued that currently my diary has limited vocabulary. The to-do-list includes; meeting, visits, meeting with boss, stop by shop after work, occasionally cook and (pay dad to) wash my car.
"Take a powder!" I politely shoved Aidilfitri to the remote part of my brain. Aidilfitri is here to stay for quite a while. Excuse me, I have to powder my nose...

To my dear friend,
Saim,
Happy Birthday,

May you be blessed with happiness
and success,
Dunya and Akhirat.

People lie.
Everyone lies,
at some point in our life.
I have had my fair share,
always followed by guilt
and sooner or later, regret.
Is this not a lesson to be learnt?

When we don't lie,
we omit some portions of truths,
leaving the other person to compose
their own versions
either to satisfy their curiousness
or to save our loved ones
from foreseen hurt,
but is this right?
and is this fair?

Sometime,
knowing the truth hurts,
telling the truth generate enemies,
but we cannot lie to ourselves,
deny reality,
just to live comfortably in our dreams.

Tell the truth even if it is bitter,
even if it hurts
because life doesn't stop just there...

With that solemn truth, at this fine morning of the 27th Ramadhan 1430H, I would like to extend my hands, seek forgiveness and prayed that this Ramadhan will be a meaningful one... till we meet again next Ramadhan, insyaAllah.

On a lighter note, I wish you 'Selamat Hari Raya Aidilfitri, Maaf Zahir dan Batin"!

Kembali Oh Kembali,
Kembalilah Kedalam Diri,
Sendirian Sendiri,
Sendiri Bertemankan Sepi,
Hanya Kain Putih Yang Membaluti Tubuhku,
Terbujur Dan Kaku,
Jasad Terbujur Didalam Keranda Kayu,

Menanti Di Barzakh
Album : Halawatul Iman
Munsyid : Far East
http://liriknasyid.com

"Ramadhan this year is approaching the end. My long wait since 1st Ramadhan will be over soon. Families came and go. Man, woman and teenagers passed by me but none cared to stop and say Salam. It was not their fault because I was a stranger to them. Sadness and loneliness are my best friends. Crickets' chirp, singing and fighting of insects, finally drowned by the sound of rain drops on tree leaves. I never gave up hope, deep down I know that they love me. Will always remember me.

Friday finally came with bright hopeful rays. From afar, a younger version of myself paced steadily followed by his two sons and three daughters (one of them walking with a limp), now in their twenties and thirties. One of them holding a bottle of water and another a plastic of scented Pandan and flowers. They stopped right in front of me and said their Salam. I cried and thanked Allah for the gift of a son with grandchildren that still cared. They came to pray for me and brought me gifts while I wait in Barzakh"...

Before going to the grave this morning, I was cleaning out our store. Displacing and reorganizing things. In my excitement, I accidentally walked (probably ran) into a large speaker (you can only imagine the things they dumped in a storeroom) and hurt the fourth finger on my right foot.

Ok, I need to rest my foot now. Till my next entry...

After a full circle, I managed to get a parking space right outside the building. Confident that I have enough cash (and a little extra) to buy food for Sungkai (and maybe Sahur), I grabbed my cell phone and locked my car. I was greeted by two men (looking foreign and non Malay) standing by the road side looking lost.

"Do you speak English?" The younger, in t-shirt and male sarong (kain pelikat) looked at me hopefully. His partner dressed in Jubah, was quiet and looked as confused.

"Yes, how may I help you?" Naturally trying to be helpful at the same time realizing that not all help is helpful.

"We tried to use our credit card but it seemed that the ATM does not accept our card," taking out his wallet showing his credit card that looked foreign enough to me. I ended up being the interviewer. I could imagine myself stranded in a foreign country with a rejected credit card, no cash and no one to turn to. It surely is a tough situation to envisage. Being a woman (and not so tough), I thought my resources and assistance were only limited.

"I can only help with these," handing over some cash. Ramadhan softened my heart to these two and never even want to consider if I was being conned (I am always a sucker for sob stories) or not.

"Will you be all right?" I repeated my question.
"Allah Kareem" he replied. That phrase stopped me in my track and cut my arguments. I bade farewell and went into the shop to get my food for Sungkai. Curious, I went out of the shop and tried to get a glimpse of where both men were heading. They were gone.

I was driving and crying (really crying) at the same time. Remember when you were caught with reddened eyes welling up with tears, and you brilliantly came up with "smoke" or "dust" that got in the way? Well, it was not that kind of tears.

Their complete trust and faith in Allah, that Allah will always be there to help, really touched my innermost being.

I remembered sometime ago when We went to Taman Warisan Tasek Merimbun (Heritage Park) with our adventure club (Kelab Kembara). After a short boat ride across the lake, we set camp and slept on higher grounds, on a small hut actually... out of reach from the crocodiles, whose eyes glistened through the darkness.

Just last Sunday and Monday, my brother spotted another crocodile, floating lazily with its whole body barely visible by untrained eyes. Standing from across the road (on the spit... of our lovely white sandy beach), staring into the Tutong river (close to the beach restaurant), a pair of eyes were staring back at him, with head and body submerged just below water level. The crocodile could easily be older than I am or it could even reach a hundred years old.

It is rare to spot even one crocodile around because they do not live in close proximity to human populations, but usually when they were spotted close by, someone somewhere would have experienced close encounter with the stroke of a tail (probably caught in a fishing net).

When I say "quite rare", its like when we were floating across Belalong River in Ulu Temburong last June, the reptile did not even cross our thoughts. Melissa, our travel guide from Freme showed us the best part of Brunei... we had one of those memorable two days and one night adventure in the Rainforest that we treasure, appreciate and love more and more, with and without the crocodiles!

looking at today's date, I thought I should be noting something down. Nothing special happened but I will write something anyway. If this date had fallen on a Sunday or Friday of the month besides Ramadhan, I would imagine catering services everywhere would be fully booked! but I guess, today is just like any other day.

Or maybe I could have bought a pack of Hari Raya cards that I didn't give a second glance at the bookstore. I could have signed today's date. But I didn't. Gave it a second glance nor have I thought about buying. It's no mystery if I disclosed that I never received a single hardcopy of a Hari Raya card ever since e-cards were created!

Or one could make today 09.09.09 a memorable one, confess one's love to another, mend a severed friendship, start a new hobby, set new goals, learn to say 'No', invent something and get enlisted for the Guinness World Records Book etc.

Because, one will never know if one will make it till the end of the week or month. Say whatever one needs to say, because that moment could be one's last... so make every moment counts and live everyday to its fullest.

... is the the title of my first published book,
a picture storybook from the 'voice' of a little girl (not so little anymore),
raised up in a modest two-story house by the beach,
with her large family,
The book portrayed our life journey,
in additions to how my versions of the perfect life should be.

Published by the DBP,
It was in 2000, that I wrote the book,
dedicated to our beloved youngest sister.

To the little girl that allow me to use her name
for the title of the book,
let me share some of the most memorable episodes,
up in the modest two-story house by the beach;

We were not born with a silver platter,
nor did we have to beg for a living,
to that we will always be thankful to Allah for
blessing us with everything.

Our parents and close family members are very resourceful,
hardworking, humble and patient
I think, after my whole lifetime of seeing how they course through life,
their motto should be, "if it can be done by others, it can be learnt"
hence the DIY concept runs thick in our blood
card making, recycling, fishing (sometimes we shared our worries
when dad went far out to sea),
welding, tailoring, fruit planting and baking,
to name a few ventures that we explored

Our old house used to be a shophouse
before we moved the shop out of the house,
I used to be the shopkeeper also the cashier
I dont know how old I was back then,
but I remembered I was still in primary school
and I was the only one allowed to operate the coconut grater
(and I can tell you, I earned a lot of money from that business,
I got 10 cents per coconut.)

We used to have a large freezer where we kept our ice-creams for sale,
We ate ice-creams as much as we sold them,
that was probably the reason why we LOVE ice-creams so much

Back then, we dont have maids to help around the house,
mom patiently cared, cooked, washed and did the housekeeping single-handed
Back then, you guys didn't have disposable diapers
but you were lucky enough to wear lampin or washable
squarish white cloth folded into a diaper
and as the eldest and most responsible sister
I had the privilege to clean and wash and hang rows of these lampin,
if still used, might help reduce pollution.

Our Dad is an artist.
He does not paint as much anymore and prefer practical work instead.
but I admit that he is an excellent artist,
I think that our little sister that lend her name for the title of the book
and our youngest sister are the ones that inherited most of this creative talent,

and so are the rest of our family members,
we used to express ourselves
on the walls of our modest two-story house by the beach,
The writings on the walls were as far as a short kid could reach
pen and pencil markings, similar to those cave wall paintings,
traces of the time tables, spellings and mathematics calculations
or probably a kid's version of the world map!

The best part was that,
we get to paint the walls ourselves every year,
right before the coming of the Eid.

The modest two-story house is no longer there,
but our memories and moments that we shared will
always be in our hearts forever,
to everyone in our family
family defined as brothers + sisters + closest dearest and beloved cousins
whether you
have or have never lived in the modest two-story house,
have or have never seen the wall paintings,
have or have never experienced my anger (because I cared),
have or have never frustrated me to tears (because I cared),
have or have never got a hug (I do LOVE you as much and more than I love myself)

I probably
have never blurted 'I LOVE you'
because words are just composed of letters
verbs without hearts
meaning without substance

It is much more than that. And its true.

Happy Birthday,
Little sister that allowed me to use her name,
May Allah bless you with happiness and success,
Fid Dunia Hassanah, Wafil Akhirati Hassanah.

Love always

He came by our home,
limping across the grassy turf
on a bandaged foot.

"Did you go to school today?" I asked him. He smiled and nodded. Teenagers are sometimes irritating if not irritable. When you want them in school, they would play truant. When the doctor prescribed a genuine excuse to stay home, they craved for school. My nephew mumbled something I didn't catch and left me amongst the kitchen chaos.

I returned my attention to the groceries lining the table. I have to mix and match and see which goes where and with what... The supermarket shelves and freezers offered unlimited mouth-watering line of products. Hahaha I guessed, the fasting could be the root cause. Imagine me, staring on a packet of curry powder, already smelling the tantalizing aroma of spicy chicken curry! And I would need some potatoes, soft cooked potatoes in curry would taste great. Around the corner was the Agar-agar jelly powder. Versions of cold sweet jellies popping up in my head. Or maybe I should get flour for the bread machine. And the list of suggestions went on and on... Whatever it was, I was in my elements with ingredients and cooking utensils, creating calmness out of chaos.

Completing my dishes, I pat myself on the back for the great-tasting food (It looked and smell great so the taste should too!) and started to clean up. My two sisters and cousin burst into the kitchen exclaiming that they were about to prepare a special dish (after hours of searching for the recipe!).

"Do we need the oil?"
"I can't find salt"
"No, no, can you check the recipe again?" Three heads hard at work on one dish.

Well, what can I say. Back to the drawing board!"

If the sky that we look upon
Should tumble and fall
And the mountains should crumble to the sea
I won't cry, I won't cry, no I won't shed a tear
Just as long as you stand, stand by me

- Lyrics from the song 'Stand by Me' by Ben E. King

Runny nose and eyes glistening with tears that threatened to overflow, he approached me with what looked like an exaggerated limp. He paused and waited for me to ask (simultaneously expecting me to recite a no-brainer question that women usually ask when they sensed that something was wrong.

"Are you ok?", without answering, he extended his right foot to expose his sore little finger. The slightly lipstick-red finger showed evidence of swelling.
"Do you think we should go to the A&E now or leave it to rest till morning then decide?" My statement forced to sound like a question. I was hoping that he would agree, then I would not have to drag my tired self to the hospital.

The deafening silence pierced through my conscience. With no one else to turn to, I was probably the closest definition to 'family' at that moment in time. A slight pain can possibly experience an exponential increase if you are alone. Everyone needs someone. Just by being there, the pain was easier to bear or maybe it could temporarily go away...

"Ya Allah, when I have no one to turn to,
would you be there for me?
I know you would care for me because
Allah is the best Protector, the best of helpers...
Please, ya Allah,
place light in my sight, in my ears and in my heart..."

Dragging my luggage, helter-skelter out of the smallish airport to discover that nobody was there to greet me... not expecting a welcoming party but a familiar face, at least?
"So how, now, brown cow?"
What actually is a two hour forty-five minutes flight seemed to stretch into three hour forty-five minutes. I forgot about the time differences. Well, it always feels good to be back home. The forum added new dimensions and challenges to my working life... missions to undertake... to walk the walk!

Upon arrival, a sad news greeted me. Demise of the wife of a respected member of our relative, who suffered from cancer for quite a while. May Allah grants maghfirah and place her amongst the chosen ones in Jannah... Amiiin

Death is a mystery and only Allah knows when it is time for us to leave the dunia for akhirat. I will always pray that I will get the chance to seek forgiveness from hearts that I have hurt, unintentionally or otherwise. Sometimes, what we thought best for us will work for others unfortunately that was not always the case. One might be able to share one's kidneys but one heart only beats for one!

6.45 am

Ramadhan is the most special month. A month to look forward to, where we will set new goals i.e. to do it much better than the previous year, perform more Solat Sunat, Quran recitations, Sadaqah, to pray for Rahmat, Barokah and Maghfirah from Allah, Most Gracious and Most Merciful.

I turned the ignition and heard a disgruntled choking sound from the hood of my car engine. It finally chose to stop working at the fueling station. The service guy glanced at me and responded confidently.
"Its your battery. Give me a moment and I will attend to that." A woman alone + a car = helpless, luckily a fuel station is rarely quiet. Three strangers jumped out of a van and also rushed to my aid.
"Can you lift the hood, maam?", said one of the three men hovering anxiously over my car hood.
"In a minute," I answered while fumbling with the switch which I imagined would be somewhere below the steering wheel.
"We need to look at the engine, maam?" the mustached guy sounded impatient. I was sweating with embarrassment because I was not able to locate this magic switch. Truthfully, ever since I bought this car, I never had the need to lift the hood. It is known accepted fact that the men in our family took care of any car-related stuff. Feeling defeated, I stepped out of the driver's seat and left the rest to the expert.
The rest of my Saturday went without a hitch. Work is very much easier to figure out but cars are not very much of a mystery either. At the moment, with all these men mechanics around us, it will be quite safe to entrust these greasy stuff in their capable hands.
p/s I learnt something new today. I had a maintenance-free car battery.

Sunday beaches are usually a no-go for me... crowds will start to fill the shoreline. Families get together with packed breakfast and lunches. Crustaceans tread the sand with caution and ready to bolt from a charging beach bike. Come evening, I can hear Maghrib call for prayer from the nearby mosque. The traffic light junction will be jam-packed with vehicles of all sorts and sizes, leaving the beach void of human presence. Then will be too late and too dark to spend the day on the beach. Instead, several weekends were spent working with packets of modeling paste.

"I used to be content with my life. It all changes after I inherited a bathtub from my great great great grandfather. I used to be married, but he left because of the bathtub. I cannot stop him and I cannot give up my heirloom. I am now miserable and needed help. The vision of the bathtub in my living room occupies my mind and is not inspiring. I think I have lost my writing skills. I am a part-time writer for newspapers and magazines, more rejections than publications but the mere payment helped me a lot. With $10 at hand, I really need help with the bathtub sitting uselessly in my living room!"

I sat somberly facing a group of more than thirty primary and secondary school teachers, who acted as groups of professionals that will be solving my problem. It was actually hard to stay in character and at times I have to withhold myself from laughing (either my line was quite funny or I was funny!). The teachers were going though the creative problem solving process as part of the week's workshop with Dr Daria Danylchuk, a Gifted and Talented Education consultant from the University Transition Programme, University of British Columbia, Canada.

They asked series of questions to find more information from the client (me) and find the actual problem. Later, they brainstormed for ideas, discussed and argued amongst themselves before coming up with several solutions, judged and weighed further to find the best solution presented, either to be accepted or rejected by the client.

Read, read, read! Write, write, write! Read to write and write to read. Daydreaming in class used to be a hobby... but hey, I needed ideas for my compositions! Work had taken so much of my time and energy that it stunted my writing. 'Siti Munirah' was my first (and only) picture story book published by the Language and Literature Bureau... and with computer technology, producing and publishing a photo storybook of a recent outing, developed using iPhoto or PowerPoint (to create an electronic Talking Book) could be a meaningful and worthwhile class project.

Most perturbed by the haze but avoiding it is beyond our control,
Walk, stroll or jog outside is definitely a bad idea, so Aiman and Iqah spent the weekend jumping on my bed.
I let go of my pen, tablet and ArtRage... and Aiman drew his first two digital painting; a cat and a goat!

Sarah took a photo of herself and I imported this photo and traced it in ArtRage (still maintaining the free version). I know, its like cheating but I did it anyway. I guessed it was easier because I used a Wacom tablet and pen to draw. 

"Ya Allah, aku berlindung denganMu daripada kesusahan dan dukacita, Ya Allah aku berlindung denganMu daripada sifat lemah dan malas, Ya Allah aku berlindung denganMu daripada sifat penakut dan bakhil dan Ya Allah aku berlindung denganMu daripada himpitan hutang dan penguasaan ma'nusia" doa untuk dihapuskan dukacita dan dibayarkan hutang; dan amalan Surah Al-Waqi'ah setiap malam untuk menghindarkan dari ditimpa kepapa'an. - petikan daripada Kuliah Mufti.

I used the free version of ArtRage to paint my beach. The thought of painting the beach sounded exciting but after i finished this digital drawing, i was not so sure anymore. I realised that i dont have the artist in me!

Seri Kenangan,
the beach,
our beach,
or better yet.. my beach

Seri Kenangan,
where i tread the waves,
that washed my tears,
and carried my hopes and fears.