Life by the beach

"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..."