THis iS My LEgacY

It's The Angle, Silly...

2011-07-23T18:33:00.003+08:00

I love the peace and quiet on a Saturday dawn, only the whistling of the birds and the consistent gurgle of my neighbour's man made water fountain. Everything else is simply....still.
This ringing stillness has the uncanny effect of making my mind stop thinking almost altogether..about things...like what should i do next...what should the tagline for the commercial I am proposing be...STOP and just BE..

The big tree outside our fence stood still to the anthem of silence that prevail like a light curtain about to be broken by the sharp shards of the morning equatorial sun. Not even the tiniest movement of its leaves ..at least not until I looked a little closer. Then I saw it..the tiny flutter of the leaves..just the ones. at the end of the branch closest to me..and that rustling whisper of the tree breathing.

Perhaps today is a good day to start journaling again..this time without obligation.
Maybe this time I can pose the questions I daren't in the past; for fear of peeking eyes and judgmental minds who is ever ready to punish people for being true to themselves.

I have hesitated to write because I feared that writing negative thoughts and feelings would manifest. But I can't whitewash my life, without purging out the blacks and greys..and without answering the big nagging question: WHY AM I ALWAYS STRUGGLING?
Why is there always not enough?

There..I dared write it
..wait a minute...
Why is my life like this pen? (I journaled with fountain pen on paper..it just seems more romantic..I would use a quill if it isn't so cumbersome..) Whenever I journal, I needed the ink to flow out smoothly, so that my train of thought would not be broken and can be poured out on my journal as it struggles out of me; most times faster than my hand can write..but sometimes, the ink just refused to flow, and I had to keep struggling, putting the strokes again and again.. I checked the barrel, and found that the ink was full..Yet it didn't flow as I wanted it to..why..

If I want to write I have to keep trying, so I placed my strokes again and again..then I thought, wait a minute. There were times when I shifted the pen to a certain angle, the ink flowed better. There were times, because of the way I held my pen, and the angle wasn't the most conducive for the ink to flow, it thus just didn't flow so well, or didn't flow at all. And because of this hitch, I missed some of the ideas that were struggling to be immortalised on my journal.

Then I realised, perhaps, it's the angle. Certain stroke needs a certain angle..brilliant! Yes, that's it!!

Then it occured to me..Isn't that how life is too?..arranging ourselves for the different strokes with different angles..Perhaps that is what it means by being relentless like water, flowing around objects, taking a different angle based on different objects that are placed before us. Relent, surrender, submit and flow.

The barrel is full..the Universe is abundant..
It is just the different angle required for the different strokes..it is the angle you take on life, on problems and issues that determines the outcomes. It is the thoughts we have in our heads that materialise into our physical reality..

Yes, that's it!!Life is truly abundant..but nothing will flow to us if we take a negative stance..so it IS the ANGLE

And by my rules, there are only 2 angles, really; LOVE or FEAR.
Better still, if fountain pen doesn't work so well, why don't I make a complete REVAMP, and write with a Roller ball instead..which figuratively is what I am doing right now..

Yet again, a Guru has come before me, in the simple act of journaling, in the humble ole fountain pen and paper.
In any case..I know for sure I am operating from the safe cradle of a Benevolent Universe.

Lessons at 46

2011-07-06T23:49:00.005+08:00

The eve of my birthday was another humid night with heavy clouds in the sky. The cresent moon however managed to squeeze its way through to smile a slanting cynical grin at me. "Well, you managed to dodge death for yet another year, woman. Cherish every moment of your life, for it is indeed a gift. But what have you got to leave behind if you have to go today.."

My wonderful children treated me to Molten Chocolate Cake at Uncle Chili's, something I did not expect at all. As Umair drove me and I conversed with my closest comrade the moon, I saw the glittering twin towers in the distance and shed a tear or two for the immense blessing of being placed on this spot on earth, the wonderful view, the gift of life, the joy of seeing my children grow into responsible adults, the wonderful sister and her family who have been my rock, the untrue friends I have shed through my challenges and the true ones who have stuck with me like super glue. What more can anyone ask.

Forty Six is another milestone I set for myself. I await its coming with apprehension, unlike the anticipation I felt upon approaching 18 or 21 or even 40.

Having said that, there are many lessons that I have learnt, particularly in the last 10 years or so. To mark my milestone, please allow me to share some of them with you.

1 What happens to you now, happened first in the past between your two ears
What and who you are now is what you thought about yourself. Therefore, be careful with what you think. If you think life will treat you well, then it will. Similarly if you think life will give you crap, and so it shall be.
Life Is...and then you tell your story

2. Every hardship and disappointment never really is that
It is merely a prelude to great gifts and blessings. You just need to change that perception you have between your two ears. Change your thoughts and your life will change..be careful, it may turn to the worse, depending on what thought you entertain in your heads. When my home was foreclosed and I couldn't get any help from anywhere, even to obtain the papers to sell off the house, I thought my world was going to come to an end. I had no where to go, and it wasn't just me I had to worry about, I had 7 others, 2 of them still not even of schooling age. But it was merely a prelude for me to start a brand new life. Leaving everything behind to start everything afresh. I would not have the courage to do so if that didn't happen. My littlest son have some memory of the old house..but this neighbourhood is definitely more condusive for my boys to grow in. Less sniggering, no neighbours who stop their children from playing with mine. Sometimes God just have to shove change down our throats.

3. We can plan so much, but in the end, we can only surrender and take the next step NOW.
Yesterday is gone, tomorrow isn't here yet, we only have the NOW. The next moment is the NOW in the next moment. The NOw is the only time where we can act, and that we truly have. We may drop dead in the next minute, and all the plans for the next year, the next day, the next minute even the next second will left undone. So cherish the NOW. The actions we take NOW create a ripple that can last forever, so tell the people you love, you love them now. Ask for forgiveness NOW. Act NOW. Save your money, but make sure you do not deprive yourself of what you can enjoy NOW.
When stuck in a rut..just take the next best step NOW, that is all we can do. Surrender the rest to the Almighty, and think well of Him.

4. God doesn't mind if we express our anger to Him, because He loves transparency and despises hypocrisy
This may be controversial, but this has been one of the most important belief that has helped me through the roughest patch. I used to just accept all the 'hardships' I felt He threw at me. Fearing the sin of blasphemy, I kept everything in, accepting and accepting.. while having to remain stoic in front of the children and the people at large (conditioning from my upbringing), until one day, I couldn't take it anymore. Not having a partner or anyone I can express my anger towards, and having only God to express my feelings, I closed my bedroom door and just exploded. I told HIm that He practices favouritism and lamented and yelled asking Him why He chose me to dump all the crappy stuff on. Why me?, I screamed. YOu are Powerful and Great and You control everything..Why do you love to Hurt me? Can't you find someone better?..What have I done so wrong, I would ask. Why do You allow them to keep hurting me and you let them live their lives in peace and happiness. And they walk this earth with so much pride, stomping on poor ants like me? Afterwards I was consumed with immense guilt and fear. Surely I will be punished..a terrible disaster will surely fall on my head, or my children's..such a vindictive God they portrayed Him to be. Surprisingly,after the explosion I felt a sense of serenity and peace beyond explanation engulfing me. I sincerely felt His love..inspite of my terrible misbehaviour that I was driven to tears. No words can really describe my feelings, but I can synthesise it as Him telling me, I am Omniscient, Omnipresent, Omnipotent. I KNow even if you didn't tell Me. I love Honesty and deplore Hypocrisy..I AM Love You can talk to Me..I am near..I listen. I felt His Magnanimity and when I say In the Name of God the Most Gracious the most Merciful I say it with a completely different sense of understanding. Such is the God I believe in and He is the God of all, regardless of what name He is referred to.

5. You are not just the protagonist in this story you are living, you are also the co-writer.
You are given choices, to choose the role you want to play and the path you wish to take each time you come to a crossroad. Each path has its own outcomes. YOu can only move forward.
For example; you live a miserable life, where you are abused emotionally. You have a choice to stay or get out. If you stay, your basic financial and physical needs is taken care of. If you leave you will have to start from scratch, at an advanced age with children in tow, not one or two but many. YOu know that on the one hand, to keep your sanity and to remain dignified you need to get out, but getting out may also backfire, in you losing your dignity because you will be plagued with the status of a divorcee and will be sliding down the social hierarchy. But again this is where your perception comes into play. If you do decide to get out, you can perceive it as a disaster where you will be a downtrodden single mother, or..you can choose to perceive it as an adventure. A fun rollercoaster ride, a mystery thriller on a journey to a better place, if you get there. If you don't you shall enjoy the ride, laughing at yourself, or you can choose to cry and lament on every bump along the way. Enjoy the ride this in turn will instill values of strength and integrity in the children who see you seize the reins from the oppressor, defying the social norm to do what you believe is right.

6. Make sure you have a cheerleader
The rollercoaster ride, the mystery thriller you have decided to write may have its twists and turns that will overwhelm you. There will be points where you will want to give up and just throw in the towel. YOur cheerleader will be the one to set your vision and perceptions straight again. Turn the negatives into positives and sometime punch the naysayers in the nose. Your cheerleader will grab you by the neck if need be, and shove you back into the ring with words of wisdom and cheer you on. I find that in my sister. How blessed I am. I wouldn't have made it this far without her help.

But the most important lesson I have learned is
7. At the core of everyone, is pure goodness
No matter how badly people treat you or how evil they may seem on the outset..every single one of us are good at the core. We came into this world like a clean sheet of paper. It is the conditioning we receive from our surrounding that turn us into what we are. Like Don Miguel Ruiz stated in his philosophy The Four Agreements - Do not take anything personally. Who are we to judge others anyway. None of us are perfect. And it is said that you attract like people to you, so if you face people who have hurt you in any way, the first thing you need to check is yourself. The people placed before you is a reflection of you. What a wonderful way to live and to stop judging others. This belief has helped me retract all those nasty curses I uttered, particularly while driving. On good days..I can even stop myself from cursing.

That is what I have to offer on my 46th birthday, Mr Moon, if I have to go today, I have something to leave behind after all, at least to my children (if they even bother to read).

Another New Year

2011-01-02T00:41:00.002+08:00

May this year be a blessed one for everyone, friends and 'foe' if I have any. Looking back at 2010, I realise that physically I have not gone far, but I would like to believe that my journey has been a very spiritual one..going deeper and deeper into myself. On that journey I have met many gurus, and they don't come in the form of human beings alone, but in many other form, namely animals, trees, the breeze, the clouds and even the weather, just to name a few. . That made me ponder on why I started this blog in the first place..to leave a legacy. Memories, thoughts, lessons I can leave behind. I rethought my audience and I realigned my goals in life. I reassessed things that I want to share with the public, because the truth is, I am a very private person.
So, to start off the year, if there is anything I want to say to myself again and again...if there is one thing that I need to drill into this thick brainwashed skull of mine is
THOUGHTS BECOME THINGS..
and I remind myself again: THOUGHTS BECOME THINGS.
And if this is going to help anybody out there other than myself and my children...remember always..that THOUGHTs BECOME THINGS.

So if you need to think..think LOVING thoughts..or be like Eckhart Tolle - DON'T THINK AT ALL...and feel the bliss of it all..

HAPPY NEW YEAR..AND THIS YEAR WILL BE GRAND FOR US ALL!!

Is it a crime to drive an old car?

2010-10-03T11:01:00.002+08:00

A policeman stopped me for no particular reason..seatbelts-check. Looked at road tax check. Asked me to open my boot, there were beach toys in a bag, a table cloth and some court shoes just in case i need to run into a meeting (Can't go in my Mary Janes). He asked me who were the people in my car, I said both are my daughters..and I said please sir my daughter has 5 mins to catch her bus to college. He said better late than early. He was still looking for faults. My car is an old Wira with a penang plate number..he said are you from Penang, I said yes, but I live here, this car is my Dad's. He was still looking for something...then he asked for my IC..and he took it to his patrol car. I got out of my car and showed him her bus ticket. She had 2 mins left. Then he said, ok, you go, she is late....I was thinking, WHAT WAS THAT ALL ABOUT?

Running Fetish fulfilled - Putrajaya Night Run 2010

2010-02-07T02:01:00.006+08:00

I have been running for the past 3 or 4 months. I just figured I have been sitting too much doing my translation and writing, that I was beginning to feel unhealthy. So I started looking for a sport I could pick up. It has to have the following criteria:
1= there's no obligation to do it - no specific schedule and such
2= must be something I love
3= something I can do anytime on a whim..because I am that sort of a person
4= will not be expensive

My head was running through a list..and as always..I followed my instinct. A few options came up, but one day, as I was walking by the Nike store in KLCC, I decided to walk in and my eyes fell on these beautiful pair of running shoes..from The Lunar Glide series..I tried it on and it fit like Cinderella's glass slippers..hmm or more like a pair of gloves, it was so comfortable. It was expensive by my standards, so I told myself if I buy this than I'd better make sure that I don't let it go to waste. I figured that I could run in my attire of t-shirt and three quarter pants, so I decided to start right away, I put those darlings on, walked myself right out of KLCC and headed straight to the park. That was how my fetish for running began. At first I could only walk..and just the 1.3km circuit was a task to complete..slowly I began to jog..no not jog, it was more like shuffling my feet pretending to run..and I managed with difficulty up to 200m. Slowly but surely, my running distance increased..and now I run an average of 5km per day. I love running or well maybe it is called jogging, it makes me feel healthy and I am so grateful for the ability to do so. After my experience of being paralysed which you can read here, I realise what a gift it is. Now, if I don't get to run in the evenings or mornings..my body will just make sure I take her for a run around the block at 10 or 11pm.

Finally, urged by friends, I decided to participate in a proper run..just for the heck of it..the PUtrajaya NIght Marathon. I decided to participated in the 7.7km category..i hardly ever exceeded 5km except for once when I hit 10kms, I think I must have been high on something then haha..lurve or some silly notion I had, which dissipated as quickly as it came. But I thought, how much more difficult can it get. So I did it just now..at 9pm..and I completed within 50 minutes or so

Mariam and Huzaifah came with me and they were supposed to take my picture when I reached the finish line, but I guess they didn't expect me to finish that fast haha so they didn't see me finish. I had so much fun..it was such an elation to be overtaking men, who were dashing ahead of me at the beginning of the race...all in all, the running was what made it so wonderful. I was telling my body, during the last km or so..one step at a time, one step at a time..slow down if you are tired..just one step at a time..and we will enjoy some delicious ice cream tomorrow..one step at a time baby...that was my mantra..and when the finish line was in sight, my wonderful body just gained momentum and sped forward and I love my body..you are the most beautiful ...heavy or whatever people call it :P..you are MY bODY..MY "TEMPLE" and I LOVE YOU

Daily Musings

2010-01-31T11:04:00.003+08:00

Clouds are beginning to form in the sky. Crumpled cotton wool scattered against creamy azure. In large patches they gather into floating Islands anchored by fluffy mountains with a shady base. Ever since I was 4 or 5 I used to wonder what it would feel like to sit on its edge and dangle my feet down. Is it windy or will I only be stroked by the breeze. Is the breeze cool or warm..what would life be like up there.
What does it feel like to caress the white tuffs..and how does it feel to be caressed by it.

The Cloud Island glided gently. It was on the left side of the tree and now it is nestled behind the leaves..

"You are me"..I said to it.."And I am you."

"I use to KNOW that..now I am beginning to remember..we are ONE?"

"Where are you going my Cloud Island? To see the world? What is your Mission? What is your Purpose?"

"What do you call that occassion when you evolve into rain and have to submit to gravity?" Do you call it DEATH like we call that occasion when we are returned to earth..or do you call it BIRTH or REBIRTH?"

"As you move along the vast blue sky, I see you disperse..you leave tuffs of white cotton behind..which will eventually dissapear and you pick up new ones along the way..
just like my cells dieing and forming new ones..just like my skin shedding and forming new ones
just like friends and family and acquaintances..they come and go...

WE ARE THE SAME"

The leaves on the tree in front of me fluttered..as if giggling and whispered to me in their familiar rustling voices.."What about us?..Don't forget us..we are nearer"

"We are You too..why do you think you can hear us..because it is YOU talking"

I looked up at them and we giggled together in bliss. I love these quiet moments I spend with ME.

And the birds sang their Solfeggio tones..and the world and life continue to flow like the brook merrily gurgling along its way...ONLY THIS TIME

More Slowly

More Purposefully

More Peacefully

Quieting the Mind

2010-01-18T23:00:00.004+08:00

I am an advocate of meditation. Having practiced it, I find it most beneficial for me in solving problems, and in helping me see things from the eyes of love and gratitude. As a Muslim, prayer is also a form of meditation, in fact, it is in my opinion, meditation in its most complete form, if done properly, that is. However, sitting in silence, focusing on my breath as I watch my thoughts bubble up, is really something I love to indulge in. It is the best, and the only way to make a shift towards positive thinking. Sometimes, focusing on the breath alone is sufficient to shift our thoughts from resentment about things that don't go our way towards a feeling of gratitude..grateful that we are still alive, because we would realise that it is this breathing that is the gift that keeps us alive..this seemingly mechanical involuntary act of breathing is the greatest gift that we cannot buy with all the material wealth in the world..what a wonder..what a gift..what a blessing

This is something I received in my email about quieting the mind. It is from Susan Gregg, a Toltec guru.

Our mind certainly does seem to like to talk a lot. Problems arise
when we believe what it says. One way to think about quieting the
mind is to think about installing a screen saver. When I am not
using my computer it sits quietly on my desk and if I don't use it
for a while it shuts off.

A great way to quiet our mind is by simply focusing our attention
on our breath. Instead of thinking about it actually focus on
feeling your breath as it goes in and out of your body. If we
practice quieting our mind often enough eventually it will shut off.

She's also done a really nice video to help you meditate here

Maids and Childcare

2010-01-17T23:31:00.006+08:00

I found the article at the bottom of this post from the Guardian UK online. And what struck me was, this article may be about the scenario in the UK but I am certain it is a universal problem.

Closer to home, the government is always harping on how the local employers treat foreign workers who are employed as home help badly. Cases of mistreatment of these Indonesian workers are sensationalised to huge proportions to the point that the Indonesian government has stepped in to request for higher wages and better treatment for their citizens who work here. However I am perturbed that nothing is said about the quality of these Indonesian maids who are brought in. Some would run away from their employer's homes within days of being placed there and the employer would have to bear all the costs. Those who stay sometimes treat the children under their care very badly. Due to such high cost of living in a metropolitan city like Kuala Lumpur, both parents work long hours outside their homes and the children are left with these unqualified maids. Since I work from home, I sometimes observe the way these maids treat these children. There are some good ones, but in general, they would be sitting together by about 10 am and waste their day chatting away, only to get into the house when the employers are coming home in the evening. There are some who invite men into their employer's homes. There is one particular maid who really upset me, because I often see her screaming at the children under her care. Even when the poor children return from school, I bet, tired and longing for a loving welcome, I would hear her shouting at them in a very brusque way, asking them to take off their shoes. I would just go to the front of the house and stand there with my hands on my hips, so she knows I am watching..and things will quiet down. I still hear her patronising the children sometimes, and I would go out of the house to make sure that she knows I am listening. I had a mind of telling the parents when they return from work, but once, I saw the maid scolding the children in front of their parents while the just kept quiet and allowed her to do so..what else can I say. Perhaps parents in Malaysia are that desperate. I still keep my ears and eyes open..I have not seen any physical abuse, but if I do, I will head straight to the police station..though I wonder if they will take this seriously..been there done that..but at least I would be doing my part.

How can a child be beaten to death, yet no one is jailed for murder?
When my workmates heard I had applied to join Hackney's child protection team, they asked me: "What the hell are you going there for?" It was a fair question. Nobody wanted to join the "Cardigan Squad" – the name given to child protection officers who were seen as woolly, glorified social workers who mopped up after domestic abuse cases.

It was the least glamorous department in the Metropolitan Police, a career cul-de-sac. Ambitious officers were expected to fight drug dealers and terrorists, the exciting big-budget departments with cool gadgets and prestigious operations.

Not me: I wanted to get my hands dirty. And, unlike almost everyone else, I was in a position to do something about it. So, instead of accepting an offer to head part of a major new glamorous drugs task force, I transferred to child protection.

Within a few months, I had fought machete-wielding thugs, rescued children who had pit bulls chained to their cots and confronted the horrors of ritual abuse. I had rescued dozens of kids from crack houses, kids living in unimaginable filth and kids who had burned down their own homes.

Then there were the hostage situations, the lynch mobs and the almost impossible job of interviewing paedophiles. There was no shortage of cases to investigate. Several hundred children were on our radar at any one time and I soon had 22 on my own list to deal with.

One of my first cases was that of an elderly couple who were bringing up their grandchild on their own. We had received reports that they had been struggling to cope and that the flat was in a bad way. That wasn't the half of it.

The grandfather answered the door. He was missing a limb and covered in scabs. "Do you mind me asking why you have those scabs?" I asked. "Are you ill?" He stared back at me blankly for a moment. "Oh, these!" he said suddenly. "Nah, that's the bloody rats. They nibble my face at night." Good God.

"And what about your...?" I said, pointing at the missing limb. "Yeah, well, that was an infection from the rats; the docs had to lop it off." Christ. They were slowly eating him alive.

I did everything I could: The man was arrested, received words of advice, but the Crown Prosecution Service decided not to prosecute and the child wasn't taken into care.

My next appointment that day was also par for the course. From the moment I stepped inside the flat, a low vicious growling came from upstairs. The house was a tip. There was hardly any furniture, rubbish and bin liners containing clothes covered the floor; there were sheets that looked as if they hadn't been washed in years draped over a tatty sofa doubling as a bed.

I was steadily overpowered by the stink of animal faeces as I climbed. He started to say: "I wouldn't mate…", but it was too late. The foul smell was forgotten in an instant when an enraged pit bull leapt for my face; its jaws snapped shut just shy of my nose; it was held by a long chain clamped to the leg of a cot.

I ran back downstairs. I couldn't believe I'd seen this. Animals such as that can, and do, tear children to shreds. I told the father that the animal had to go or we would remove his kids.

Then there were the likes of Tyrell, a 19-month-old toddler who died in 2003 after being punched repeatedly in the head. Tyrell's mother, Sandra Rowe, 29, lived with John White.

After he died, we discovered that we had dealt with Tyrell before. Even worse: he had been taken off the child protection register six days before he was killed. Social services had seen Tyrell four times in the month before he died. But, as ever, it's not that straightforward.

Until the day of Tyrell's death, all his injuries were below the neck. By law, a social worker cannot lay a hand on a child whom he or she is visiting. So if the child is wearing jumpers and the parents are clever enough to make the right noises, the social worker will tick the box and leave, no doubt running with folders full of case information to catch the bus to the next case meeting, to see the third family that day, to stop by a care home to check on a child, to pick up their own kids from school and whatever else was on their impossible schedule.

Tyrell had died needlessly. The question is: would he still be alive if social services had more resources?

When Tyrell was born, social workers placed Rowe, who was judged to be sufficiently retarded as to be unable to cope on her own, and her son under 24-hour supervision at a foster home. But when she started seeing White, it was taken as a blessing and she was discharged. Six months later, after months of abuse, Tyrell was dead.

White and Rowe were charged with murder, but lack of evidence meant they were prosecuted for child cruelty instead. A post-mortem examination revealed that almost every bone in Tyrell's body had been fractured. His thigh bone had been twisted, he had seven fractured ribs and a broken collarbone, and was covered in bruises. White was sentenced to three years. Rowe, who had an IQ of 50 and a reading age of five, received a two-year supervision and treatment order.

I find it hard to live with the fact that a child can be beaten to death in the presence of its official carers and yet neither of them are either prosecuted for murder, or for the fact that the child died while in their care. New laws have introduced greater culpability in these cases, but the loophole still exists and this case was by no means the exception. Last April, Claire Biggs, from Newham, east London, was found guilty of child cruelty, while her partner, Paul Husband, was successfully prosecuted for neglect. Rhys, Biggs's two-month-old son, died on 8 May 2006 and was found to have 17 broken ribs, a broken shoulder and a fractured arm. As the cause of Rhys's death could not be established, the pair faced only cruelty charges. Biggs was jailed for eight years. Is that justice?

Once again, the attacks went unnoticed by health workers, although they had known that Biggs had another child taken into care in 2001. Yet again, there were missed opportunities, and a breakdown in sharing information. After the Tyrell trial, Hackney council issued a statement: "The area child protection committee is concluding its investigation. Recommendations will be implemented by the respective agencies. Appropriate action will be taken as required if individual failings are identified." But the results of their investigation were never made public.

It is precisely this sort of reaction that increases the public's antagonism towards social workers. I have not read this report, but there is another element here. It may have uncovered good practice by social workers as well. The good work that social services undoubtedly do is rarely revealed. I am all for lambasting incompetency and serious mistakes, but social workers seem to operate in a world without recognition. This is not good for their morale or their profession – and therefore, for children. We need to be transparent. It's the children whom we are supposed to be protecting, after all.

When I joined the child protection team, I thought I had all the answers. I thought, for example, that social workers were the source of many of our problems. But I soon discovered that most social workers are dedicated professionals. Dev, a social worker, told me: "It's one of the toughest jobs in Britain, if not the toughest. Many of us crumble, some more quickly than others. Others resort to defence mechanisms; a sort of survival whereby they 'shut down', numb themselves so they don't 'see' what's in front of them any more. But who watches out for this? Nobody. Nobody but us, and we're all so busy it's every man and woman for him or herself until it hits the fan."

Our social care system needs a massive overhaul: too many social workers have become demoralised. We have paedophiles who have been in trusted positions in society escaping with light sentences time and again. Our child protection system is outdated. There have been at least 70 public inquiries into its tragic failures. Inevitably, Lord Laming's report on the murder of Victoria Climbié repeated many of their recommendations. But the key points remain: lack of communication between agencies that should be working together; lack of training; lack of supervision; unqualified social work staff undertaking complex assessments.

How have we let this come to pass? Why is it that children, the most precious, most vulnerable part of our society, are not provided with a five-star service to protect them when things go wrong? Is it to do with funding? These are real kids dying here, kids in England, in London, the greatest, richest city in the world, dying for the lack of a really effective system, more training and, most importantly, more social workers.

We've been ignoring what is an enormous problem for far too long. We have to accept that a significant proportion of the population abuse thousands of children every day. Until we do so, and until we start changing our attitudes towards troublesome children, we are all guilty of neglect. The good news is that children can recover. It's up to us to get to them quickly enough and to provide them with the right kind of intervention.

"Baby X", Det Sgt Harry Keeble's account of his years working for the Hackney child protection team until 2006, is published this week. Keeble is a pseudonym adopted at the insistence of the Metropolitan Police.

You can also read the article here

Criticsm is The Longest Path To Change

2010-01-16T23:24:00.003+08:00

I found this beautiful story by chance from this website and would like to share it with you. It just goes to show that the best way to persuade anyone to change is by being kind, understanding and generous. Many prophets and sages have led the way to change via this path..but we still have not learned. We are too impatient and have been conditioned to expect instant gratification..instant change..instant response. How sad, because even nature has shown us how the softness of water can dent rocks..The story goes like this:

There was a very rich man, who was also very miserly. His only joy was in the accumulation of money. Somehow, he had managed to marry a beautiful wife, who was also very generous and kind hearted. As you might expect the miser was deeply unpopular, but, everyone liked and admired his self giving wife. However, she thought. “Since, he is my husband and no one else likes him, what can I do? I, at least, must be kind to him and offer him my support. Despite, receiving no praise from her miserly husband, she served him night and day.

Then a famine struck the region. The miser gave nothing. But, his wife tirelessly travelled the region offering help and lending people money to buy rice. The people who borrowed money wanted to pay back the wife; but, she refused saying.

“It’s fine, I don’t need the money. Please keep it.”

But, the people refused saying ‘no we really want to give it back, when we can.’

So she said something quite surprising. “If you really want to repay me, then give me the money the day my husband dies.”

People were quite surprised at this statement and one of her sons happened to overhear her. He was perturbed by his Mother’s strange statement and so went to his father to report what he had heard.

The father could not believe it. Why was his dear wife asking the money to be repaid only when he passed away? Thus the miser challenged his wife, asking why she had asked the money to be returned on his death.

She said, “You don’t understand. You see, people don’t like you. They hate you. Everybody wants you to die today, but many people have taken lots of money from me, and by nature people don’t want to pay it back. From now on, instead of thinking of your death, they will pray to God to keep you alive so that they don’t have to pay it back. I want you to live for many, many years. Who knows? One day you may also become very affectionate, kindhearted and sympathetic.
“I played a trick. I want them to pray to God every day that you live. This will make me happy. Who cares for the money? I want you to live for a very long time.” The husband was extremely touched by his wife’s wisdom and love for him and he vowed to be more compassionate toward others.
What Can We Learn from This Story?

It is easy to like kind, generous and self giving people. But, it is not so easy to like and be kind to a miser. But, the wife’s devotion, love and selflessness slowly started to make an impression on her husband. Even her miserly husband felt obliged to lead a better life. This shows that if we really wish to change people, it is through constant self giving and not constant criticism.

Spanish Lesson - Is The Computer Male or Female?

2010-01-14T23:24:00.002+08:00

I am faced with another lazy day...so I am going to post something I received in my email..from a dear friend

A Spanish Teacher was explaining to her class that in Spanish, unlike
English, nouns are designated as either masculine or feminine.

'House' for instance, is feminine: 'la casa.'
'Pencil,' however, is masculine: 'el lapiz.'

A student asked, 'What gender is 'computer'?'

Instead of giving the answer, the teacher split the class into two groups,
male and female, and asked them to decide for themselves whether computer'
should be a masculine or a feminine noun. Each group was asked to give
four reasons for its recommendation.

The men's group decided that 'computer' should definitely be of the
feminine gender ('la computadora'), because:

1 No one but their creator understands their internal logic ;

2. The native language they use to communicate with other computers is
incomprehensible to everyone else;

3. Even the smallest mistakes are stored in long term memory for possible
later retrieval; and

4. As soon as you make a commitment to one, you find yourself spending half
your paycheck on accessories for it.

(THIS GETS BETTER!)

The women's group, however, concluded that computers should be Masculine
('el computador') , because:

1. In order to do anything with them, you have to turn them on;

2. They have a lot of data but still can't think for themselves;

3. They are supposed to help you solve problems, but half the time they ARE
the problem; and

4. As soon as you commit to one, you realize that if you had waited a
little longer, you could have got a better model.

The women won.

BUT OF COURSE!!

More Yasmin Ahmad and Muallaf

2010-01-13T23:03:00.002+08:00

I made arrangements for the children to be picked up by their sibling so that I can go and watch this movie. God I miss Yasmin Ahmad. Her signature opening of In the name Of Allah the Most Gracious the Most Merciful also in Chinese opened the floodgates of my emotion. Tears just poured out and I was sniffling throughout the movie. I never knew her personally but I feel a certain connection with her one way or the other. I cannot imagine why this story was banned in the first place in Malaysia and why some dialogue was muted..all in all it was really great, and I seriously thing that all Malaysians should watch this.

Here is the trailer

Here is Yasmin's synopsis, which I picked from her blog..(God I miss her so much..I know I am saying it again)
20-year old Rohani and her 14-year old sister Rohana are two Malay girls on the run from their wealthy, abusive father.

Finding refuge in a smaller town, their secret little world collides
with that of Robert Ng, a 30-year old Catholic school teacher.

The young man finds himself irresistibly drawn towards the sisters, and the extraordinary courage with which they face adversity, in a relationship that inevitably forces Robert to confront a haunting memory of his own troubled childhood.

In this story of lost souls who find comfort in each other, friendship opens the window to forgiveness and a reconciliation with the past.

If you watch this video, and its ensuing series, you will also know that it also contains snippets of her life story :) My children can also relate to some of the scenes. Yasmin, you are such a beautiful person and you are so sorely missed.

If you can't watch the above video, click on this youtube link

Yasmin Ahmad, Tale n Time and I GO by Aizat

2010-01-12T22:49:00.003+08:00

Tale N Time, wasn't Allahyarham Yasmin Ahmad's best, but was definitely much much better than any other local movies of the same genre. It made me laugh, it made me cry it left me speechless and left me with a warm glow from within that there is still hope of unity for this beloved country of ours. And this song tied it all up like a beautiful ribbon on a departing gift, Yasmin left for us. It is going to be difficult to find a replacement as noble as her...

Thank you for loving- Notes from The Universe

2010-01-11T23:41:00.005+08:00

I received this in my email today, from "The Universe"
It lit up my day
Thanks, Shakirah, for every single time you ever fell in love.

Whether or not it was obvious. Whether or not it lasted. And whether or not you were loved back.

It changed everything.

You changer,
The Universe

Isn't that wonderful..love, even if you are not loved back :)

Everything is A Miracle

2010-01-10T23:39:00.005+08:00

Einstein once said : God does not play dice with the universe.
He also said: You must believe that either every thing is a miracle or nothing is a miracle.
I certainly choose to believe the latter..it is a lot more fun, and what better way to live this life on earth :).

As a child, I used to love reading fairy tales. I love magic/ miracles. I used to wake up in the middle of the night to see if there were fairies playing in the garden. And I would rejoice to see toadstools in the morning after a rainy night, believing that fairies must have had a party in my garden the night before, leaving behind their tables and chairs as a reminder that they do exist.

In spite of being my age now, I still do believe in fairies. But my idea of miracles is a little different now. More subtle..I feel that it is a miracle when I see a certain theme surfacing before me again and again, as if to tell me this is the area in my life that I have to pay attention to. This is what I meant by a curriculum cut out for me in my previous post. The most current theme that has been surfacing of late is the role of prayer in the Concept of Law of Attraction. It has been popping up everywhere, in my e-mails, in youtubes sent to me, in books that i read..everywhere. I realise that I have been taught to pray or supplicate in the atmosphere of lack and sadness, but the prayer that is most blessed are those offered in the spirit of gratitude and joy. Being thankful opens up doors to abundance in every aspect. It completely distracts you from things that you lack, and immediately you realise how fortunate you are.

So if you claim that you believe that God is All knowing, the Omiscient..be thankful for everything. He knows, so He will not always give you what you want, but because He loves you, He will always give you only what you need.

I wonder if you experience the same kind of phenomena as I do. Perhaps if you pay attention just a little bit more, you will be able to discern those special signs..try it.

THE FOUR AGREEMENTS

2010-01-10T00:00:00.003+08:00

There was a time when i used to think that I have no control over my life. No control whatsoever. I have no ability to change anything that happens to me or to my children. I sit helplessly and prayed with a sense of helplessness not entirely believing that my life would be any better.

I think that was what that happened to me. In the end when we surrender, God points us in the right direction. For Muslims, the Quran and hadith form the broad guidelines, which we measure the other references that fall into our laps against. Little by little..the right people, the right books the right connections came forth in a very structured manner as if it is a curriculum in the faculty of life cut out especially for me.

One of those books that practically jumped out at me when I was browsing through shelves at Borders was The Four Agreements by Don Miguel Ruiz. At the time, I didn't have much, I was feeling small and thought that people were treating me like trash, because I am a single mother with all the material limitations in world where ownership of material things determine where you stand in people's eyes.

This is going to be an oversimplified version of what I learned from the book. I am writing on the fly, purely from whatever I have stored in the memory of my grey matter, so please bear with me.

The first thing I learned from this book was that life is nothing but a dream, a concept affirmed by the Quran. And I thought , if this life is a dream, then I can change it...now that gave me hope.

The next lesson I learned from it was that we have an agreement with ourselves. The prophet PBUH said we were born as pure white cloths..but I shall add that our conditioning form the agreements that we made with ourselves about ourselves. What our parents tell us when we were young, what the people around us tell us as we were growing up, all form perceptions and filters which shape us, for example we may grow up believing we are stupid, or ugly, or super smart. These are the agreements made with ourselves with words that were used in communication with ourselves. To be able to change our dreams, we need to break these agreements..to break it we have to change the way we talk to ourselves.

Next, I learned that what we experience is a mirror of our own selves. We have a filter system which filters everything that we see in our lives, something Don Miguel Ruiz call the virus..a little like the virus in a computer system.So I was putting up a filter of lack and as a result, what that was reflected back to me was also lack. Knowing this, I can start learning about the true nature of myself and proceed to learn the true nature of my children. I also learned to stop judging and blaming other people. And whenever I experienced lack or frustration or whenever someone treats me in a way which I do not like, I paused and look within myself to see what is it that these people are mirroring. Then I try to make a shift, by taking full responsibility of my experiences, something which is not easy but made a little simpler when I decided to take full responsibility for everything that I experience.

Finally I learned that I can only do my best, and sometimes my best may not be good enough for others but it doesn't matter, what matters is it is my Best.

The four agreements are :
1 Be Impeccable with Your Word
2 Don't Take Anything Personally
3 Don’t Make Assumptions
4 Always Do Your Best

This video will make it so much clearer for you. I found a doorway to peace through Don Miguel Ruiz's teachings..who knows, you might too.

Reach for That Peaceful Feeling

2010-01-08T22:32:00.004+08:00

In the wake of the 'religous' mayhem that is beginning to materialise in my beloved country..I would like to share this video with you. I have been very upset about everything that is going on..the argument about the use of "Allah" by non muslims and the attack on churches, that I grope around for what I can do to return harmony to my world. I realise peace begins with me. It begins with you..

Every human being on the planet is linked to a magnetic field..not all of us realise it. Science has shown that The human heart is now documented as the strongest generator of magnetic and electrical field in the body...5000 times stronger magnetically than the brain.

You just need to watch this and understand this..and reach for that compassionate, loving feeling for the benefit of our world.

Warrior of The Light- Paulo Coelho

2010-01-07T21:38:00.003+08:00

Picture by Randall Hyman

He is my favourite author, and I follow his Warrior of The Light newsletter like a shadow. I think he is successful because each and everyone of his reader can find themselves in his stories..I find myself in each and everyone of them that I have read..and those subtle hidden messages are just simply magical

This is his latest post which you can also find here and I would like to share it with you.

READ MY FRIENDS AND ADORN THE PLATE OF FAITH

The Warrior of Light is always trying to improve.

Each blow of his sword carries with it centuries of wisdom and meditation. Each blow has to have the force and the skill of all the warriors of the past, who still continue to bless the combat. Each movement of the fight honors the movements that previous generations have tried to transmit through tradition.

The Warrior of Light enhances the beauty of his blows. Although he behaves like a child.

People are shocked, because they forget that children need to enjoy themselves, play, be a little irreverent, ask inconvenient and immature questions, say silly things.

And they ask, horrified: "And this is the spiritual path? He isn’t even mature!”

The warrior feels proud at that comment. He keeps in contact with God through his innocence and joy, and acts in this way because at the beginning of his fight he affirms to himself:

“I have dreams.”

After some years he realizes that it is possible to reach where he wants to go. He knows that he will be rewarded.

At that moment the great joy that filled his heart disappears. Because on his travels he has discovered the unhappiness of others, the loneliness and frustrations that afflict so many people. The Warrior of Light then feels that he does not deserve what he is to receive.

When he learns to handle his sword, he discovers that his equipment has to be complete – and that includes armor.

He goes out to look for armor and hears what some vendors propose to him.

"Wear the breast-plate of solitude," says one.

"Wear the shield of cynicism," answers another.

"The best armor is not to get involved in anything," suggests a third.

The warrior, however, does not listen to them. He goes serenely to his sacred place and dons the indestructible cloak of faith.

Faith softens all blows. Faith changes poison into crystal-clear water.

His angel whispers to him: "Yield everything." The warrior kneels down and offers his victories to God.

This deliverance obliges the warrior to stop asking silly questions and helps him to overcome his feeling of guilt.

And if, even so, he still feels unworthy of his reward, a Warrior of Light always has a second chance in life.

Like all other men and women, he was not born knowing how to handle his sword. He makes many a mistake before discovering his Personal Legend.

No man or woman can sit down in front of the fire and tell the others: "I have always acted properly." Those who claim this are lying and have not yet learned to know themselves. The true Warrior of Light has already committed injustice in the past.

But during his journeys he realizes that the people to whom he has acted unjustly always cross his path again.

That is why the Warrior of Light has the impression of living two lives at the same time. In one of them he is obliged to do everything that he does not want to do, fighting for ideas that he does not believe in. But there is another life, one that he discovers in his dreams, readings, and meeting people who think like he does.

The warrior lets both lives draw close to one another.

"There is a bridge that connects what I do with what I would like to do," he thinks. Little by little his dreams take over his routine, until he realizes that he is ready for what he has always wanted.

So, a little bit of daring is enough to transform the two lives into just one.

This is his chance to undo the bad that he caused. A chance that he always seizes without any hesitation.

Have Fun and Play Your Part

2010-01-07T00:00:00.000+08:00

I am about to miss my post today
here goes..something i received from the mail

As long as you are in the world playing a part in this big drama, use the makeup and costumes, but don't get caught in your part. Have fun and play that part until the curtain falls.

Many people finish their part even in the midst of the drama. Once their part is over, they make their exit. Then they don't come back to the stage again. On the world's stage, many of us finish our job and leave, but the drama continues. Maybe the hero, the heroine and the villain will continue throughout, and be the last people to leave the stage. In the meantime, many extras come and go. We are probably all extras. Remembering this will help to keep the ego a little bit soft.

Your Biography Becomes Your Biology - Snippets from Wayne Dyer's Book

2010-01-05T22:31:00.005+08:00

I really don't know what to write. So I am going to place some stuff I read from Dr Wayne Dyer's book, Manifest Your Destiny. These stuff I am going to quote, is like a hammer banged smack on my nose..So here goes:

The inclination to bond to our wounds rather than move past them traps us in a constant state of feeling unworthy. A person who has experienced traumatic events in life, such as sexual abuse, the death of loved ones, traumatic illnesses, accidents, family disruption, drug addictions and the like can become bonded with the past painful events and replay them for attention or pity

When we examine the biology of an individual, we find that his or her biography is close to the surface. Thoughts of anguish, self pity, fear, hate and the like all take their toll on the body and the spirit. Largely the body is unable to heal largely because of this thought.

The moment anyone stands up to you, or crosses you, or even disagrees with you, the injury is brought forth with accusations of insensitivity concerning other's treatment of you.This power is empty, however, because it continuously reinforces the idea that you are not worthy of being free from these events, The unworthiness then inhibits you from attracting to yourself the love, kindness and abundance that is the universe

One must be very careful to avoid explaining present life in terms of traumatic history

The best quote is: The painful events in our lives are like a raft you use to cross the river, you must remember to get off on the other side

I have been guilty of this crime..what a wonderful reminder...pain of the past, I bid you farewell..may you be happy in the seat of the past.

I WOULDN'T CHOOSE ANY OTHER LIFE

2010-01-04T23:08:00.005+08:00

This miracle, this life that was once only a lonely lump of blood in my womb, which evolved into a beating heart and finally into this amazing creature who walked with pride and courage to step into his primary school grounds for the first time today, gave me a new awareness about my purpose in life.

Seeing his brother taking him under his wing while he was introduced to all the pertinent 'landmarks' of their first alma matter "St John's (1) Primary School' can only be described as heartwarming, but in truth is much more than that. It gave me not so much a sense of accomplishment, but affirmed the truth of the Law of Attraction in my life..of the Tao in action, of God's all pervading love and existence. This is what I have been journeying towards. This is what I have attracted. The wonderful sense that I pro created another life, another opportunity for the success of human evolution ..is a sense of completion for me.

The joy reflected on all his sibblings' faces when they saw him so smartly dressed in his first school uniform told me that, perhaps, I have done something right and the future is certainly brighter than ever for each and everyone of them. That by being here with them, taking responsibility, I have forged the love and bond among the brothers and sisters that will carry on way beyond my time on this earth. I know that when I am gone, they will look out for one another.

Seeing and hearing him stand in assembly for the first time, singing the National Anthem, the State Song and his school song just brought tears to my eyes..Muaz Az Zuhaily..the child who while in my womb, was one of the main reasons why I decided to take the path less trodden.

What is your purpose in life?

Is it to be a CEO of a large corporation, a president or prime minister of a country, to be a well seasoned traveller of this earth..going to places that I can only dream of visiting? May you be blessed and fulfilled by your purpose.

Mine is to be a Mother.

I may never know what it is like to feel the joy of your achievements..Fleetingly I may long to tread on your path..the grass is always greener on the other side.
But you will never understand the completion that i feel in fulfilling my purpose. This is my life, filled with love and joy of seeing and experiencing the love I have poured unto them returned back to me many folds over..engulfing every single nook and cranny of my being and overflowing for me to share again with others. You can never go wrong by loving your children or any creature for that matter..Being a Mother..I wouldn't have it any other way.

The African Song- An Inspirational Story

2010-01-03T19:22:00.007+08:00

A photo by Hans Hillewaert

This is a beautiful story I found on a facebook friend's note. It is a story about the healing power of love, of our connection with source, of the nature of our spiritual being. I have resolved many problems using love rather than harsh judgmental punitive measures; and it has been very successful. But a very important note to bear is that the love has to be GENUINE.

I have done too many mistakes singing the wrong song to my children, I still do now, but I am slowly learning to find the song of love that resonate with them. And as I do so, I see them healing slowly but surely as they reach out to fulfill their purpose and full potential. There are still a few people who push my buttons, and I am learning to sing the right song to myself to comfort me and to honour them. This story can also be found at Expressions of Soul.com and was first written by Alan Cohen the author of the best seller The Dragon Doesn’t Live Here Anymore

The story goes like this:

When a woman in a certain African tribe knows she is pregnant, she goes out into the wilderness with a few friends and together they pray and meditate until they hear the song of the child. They recognize that every soul has its own vibration that expresses its unique flavor and purpose. When the women attune to the song, they sing it out loud. Then they return to the tribe and teach it to everyone else. When the child is born, the community gathers and sings the child's song to him or her.

Later, when the child enters education, the village gathers and chants the child's song. When the child passes through the initiation to adulthood, the people again come together and sing. At the time of marriage, the person hears his or her song. Finally, when the soul is about to pass from this world, the family and friends gather at the person's bed, just as they did at their birth, and they sing the person to the next life.

In the African tribe there is one other occasion upon which the villagers sing to the child. If at any time during his or her life, the person commits a crime or aberrant social act, the individual is called to the center of the village and the people in the community form a circle around them. Then they sing their song to them. The tribe recognizes that the correction for antisocial behavior is not punishment; it is love and the remembrance of identity.

When you recognize your own song, you have no desire or need to do anything that would hurt another. A friend is someone who knows your song and sings it to you when you have forgotten it. Those who love you are not fooled by mistakes you have made or dark images you hold about yourself. They remember your beauty when you feel ugly; your wholeness when you are broken; your innocence when you feel guilty; and your purpose when you are confused.

You may not have grown up in an African tribe that sings your song to you at crucial life transitions, but life is always reminding you when you are in tune with yourself and when you are not. When you feel good, what you are doing matches your song, and when you feel awful, it doesn't. In the end, we shall all recognize our song and sing it well. You may feel a little warbly at the moment, but so have all the great singers. So remember, just keep singing and you'll find your way home.

What Do We Do With Emotions

2010-01-02T22:31:00.003+08:00

Some people find emotions silly. I know some who consider emotions as something that need to be obliterated from the Self in order to achieve 'enlightenment'. Some find it silly to love another and to demonstrate those feelings.

I have a different perspective about emotions. I believe that emotion is a gift from the Almighty. I believe that we are human beings because we would like to have these emotive experiences..happiness, love, sadness, depression, anger, joy..to name a few.
Only as human beings with a physical existence can we experience all these. In the spirit form we are in a different realm, where many things such as time, space, the five senses do not exist. As such, I choose to embrace emotions..with joy. Do we have any other choice?..So why not do it with joy and gratitude

Be it sadness or joy, I choose to let them sip through every cell of my being. How bland life would be without them. Without emotion, what would stories that we tell our children and their children be like. Therefore, need I say more..embrace it, love it, enjoy the experience because it is a GIFT.

Remember 'Love' and losing the person you love. Maybe it is your lover, maybe it is your parents, maybe it is a dear friend. Why not for a change, instead of being morose, relish the emotions, feel the way it hugs your chest tightly till you can't breathe and tickle the region of your stomache, making you feel funny and uncomfortable.. you will never experience it if you have not had the privilege of experiencing the most wonderful feeling of all = love..isn't that a gift. Find its source in your body, let it sink in to the core, acknowlege it, and only then it can be washed away into a new delightul sense of acceptance and joy that everything is perfect as it is. This may take months, or years..but it will be liberating, I promise you.

Try it with other emotions such as anger, or frustration, or abandonment.

Emotions are never permanent, they are mere guests that visit you as you travel along this journey called 'Life'. So honour them, and they will honour you back..just as everything is in life...Just as Rumi mentioned in his beautiful ppoem

The Guest House

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

~ Rumi ~

2010 - Why resolutions don't work- figured

2010-01-01T13:20:00.003+08:00

2010 = the first decade of the new millenium. An advent of a new era symbolised by a bluemoon and an eclipse on its threshold. I choose to look at it as something wonderous..a magnificent dance of the universe.

I have been told since I was old enough to understand that the begining of a new year is the time to make resolutions. Ever since that time, which was probably when I was in primary school, I have made many resolutions and busted, say... 80% of the them. Every single time. But persevere I did..in fact as I grew older and 'wiser' I went out and bought books to help me keep my resolutions. But guess what..i still busted them..to a point that I don't believe, not only in making resolutions, but worse..i didn't believe in myself.

2010 - I still don't believe in resolutions, but I LOVE AND BELIEVE IN MYSELF :). And this has made me a very HAPPY person.

Here is my take on why resolutions don't work and what we need to do is NOT make resolutions..but flow and attract what is already ours, which actually is not really ours (ok now i am confusing you before I even begin). This is the cornerstone of the Law of Attraction so often heard ..but also too highly simplified, more often than not for commercial gains

My take on why resolutions don't work is because:

* The world we live in is not real..it is a hologram. Everything is created in our brain...hence we can mold it with our thoughts

and as such;

* We are not in this world; but this world is in us which goes hand in hand with ==>
we are spiritual beings living temporarily in a physical world.

* in the end, we are energy..

This understanding does NOT negate the existence of God, Allah, Source or whatever that you are conditioned to name it..but affirms His Omnipotence, Omniscience and Omnipresence. It is the only way I can make sense of the all pervading nature of "God"

Holding on to this principles, life flows smoothly. Everything experienced is accepted with gratitude, knowing that it is all for my highest good. What I wish for, or what that permeates my desire, which replaces 'resolutions' is my purpose from God or Source..and in that manner I procreate. And LIFE becomes GOOD.

I attribute my findings first to Harun Yahya's research and writings, particularly through his books THE LITTLE MAN IN THE TOWER and MATTER: THE OTHER NAME FOR ILLUSSION

And then what propelled me further was the Secret by Linda Byrnes and even before that I was already reading Deepak Chopra, Debbie Ford, and later Wayne Dyer, Parahamsa Yogananda, Don Miguel Ruiz.

So now I don't make resolutions..I pro create..and I love my life. Come join me..

Let's Take A Long Walk..an invitation :)

2009-12-22T07:22:00.002+08:00

Love this song..i think jazz is so cool..Jill Scott is cooler :)

"A Long Walk"

You're here, I'm pleased
I really dig your company
Your style, your smile, your peace mentality
Lord, have mercy on me
I was blind, now I can see
What a king's supposed to be
Baby I feel free, come on and go with me

Let's take a long walk around the park after dark
Find a spot for us to spark
Conversation, verbal elation, stimulation
Share our situations, temptations, education, relaxations
Elevations, maybe we can talk about Surah 31:18

Your background it ain't squeaky clean shit
Sometimes we all got to swim upstream
You ain't no saint, we all are sinners
But you put your good foot down and make your soul a winner
I respect that, man you're so phat
And you're all that, plus supreme
Then you're humble man I'm numb
Yo with feeling, I can feel everything that you bring

Let's take a long walk around the park after dark
Find a spot for us to spark
Conversation, verbal elation, stimulation
Share our situations, temptations, education, relaxations
Elevations, maybe we can talk about revelation 3:17

Or maybe we can see a movie
Or maybe we can see a play on Saturday (Saturday)
Or maybe we can roll a tree and feel the breeze and listen to a symphony
Or maybe chill and just be, or maybe
Maybe we can take a cruise and listen to the Roots or maybe eat some passion fruit
Or maybe cry to the blues
Or maybe we could just be silent
Come on, Come on

Let's take a long walk around the park after dark
Find a spot for us to spark
Conversation, verbal elation, stimulation
Share our situations, temptations, education, relaxations
Elevations, maybe we can talk about Psalms in entirety

Or maybe we can see a movie
Or maybe we can see a play on Saturday (Saturday)
Or maybe we can roll a tree and feel the breeze and listen to a symphony
Or maybe chill and just be, or maybe
Maybe we can take a cruise and listen to the Roots or maybe eat some passion fruit
Or maybe cry to the blues
Or maybe we could just be silent
Come on, Come on

Let's take a long walk around the park after dark
Find a spot for us to spark
Conversation, verbal elation, stimulation
Share our situations, temptations, education, relaxations
Elevations, maybe baby, maybe we can save the nation
Come on, Come on

So Much Ado About Global Warming

2009-12-21T07:22:00.002+08:00

First there was the Copenhagen Climate summit, which heard many 'small' nations speaking up, a particular one without mincing their words..yeay! While Malaysia plucked a figure of 40% carbon reduction from where? Then just as the summit was beginning there was this bombshell dropped about people hacking into some US authorities' internet system saying that the whole global warming is a BIG POLITICAL HOAX. With Al Gore being the biggest culprit..and finally they are saying..SO WHAT ABOUT GLOBAL WARMING..IT IS NATURAL.
Read it here
Wonderful job theSPINNERS did to confuse us all ..in the name of capitalism, I suppose.

I'd rather listen to this man, actually

Jentayu..what a noble bird

2009-11-10T15:22:00.003+08:00

Here is another song that resonate so well with my soul. It has a tinge of traditional Indonesian music whic I love so much..with the elegant sounds of the gamelan, and that certain kind of haunting melody..difficult to describe. I think it is a blood thing. I know that my maternal ancestry runs far into the Javanese Kratons..something my mother never really like to harp on because implicitly she seems to say, no matter how blue your blood is, it doesn't mean a thing. You have to be noble in your own right. Earn your own respect.

This is a story of perseverance and nobility.. values I grew up with only to be thwarted in my early twenties through the connections I made in life..but no regrets. Those were lessons I needed to learn.

Anyways, this melody makes me restful. For those who have meditated, I think they would know what I mean. How you are able to enter your heart core and just submerge yourself and rest and be surrounded by familiar and warm protective energy and just remain in complete bliss

A little background on the song:
This song was inspired by a poem written by our local legendary poet the late Usman Awang. You can have a glimpse of who he is and his contributions here.

Jentayu is a bird in an epic Legend of Merong Mahawangsa. and you can get some background information on this legendary bird and its role in the legend here
Here goes the translation of the lyrics:
Di paruhmu kemilauan sinar (Your beak luminous with radiance)
Menyepuhi sejuta rasa (glazing a million emotions)
Kemulian di hatimu (Your sublime heart
Bening budi terdampar di jagat raya (Still and tranquil, marooned on this mortal earth)

Di sayap taufan kau jelajahi (on the wings of the storm you roam)
Awan gemawan membawa rindu (Billowing clouds bring yearning)
Kasihmu menentangi kezaliman (of your love, battling vilainy)
Ketidakadilan (injustice)

Jentayu
Patah sayap bertongkat paruh (When wings fail, lean on your beak)
Jentayu
Patah paruh bertongkat siku (When beak breaks, your elbow waits)
Jentayu
Patah siku bertongkat dagu (Elbow crushed, lean on your chin)
Jentayu
Patah dagu bertongkat kuku (when chin fails..rise on your claws)

Pinjamkanlah hatimu (Lend your (magnanimous) heart)
Untuk semua (To all)

Pinjamkanlah syahdumu (Lend us you magnicifent tranquility)

You can also watch the video here.

Nostalgic gratitude

2009-11-09T15:20:00.002+08:00

I chanced upon this video on youtube and it brought back hodge podge of emotions..black unhappy memories, helplessness, laced with hope, and love and the chance of a new beginning for me. You know how a certain song can just raise your spirits and lend wings to your feet, and make your heart swell to move forward. When I thought I had nothing left, and I just didn't know how to move forward, this song gave me all the hope that I needed. Convinced me that I am loved and not forgotten. And that everything is going to be just swell. It seems like everything is looking pretty bright now ..

I did a very rough translation on the words. Would just like to share it with you.
Enjoy the golden voice of this wonderful woman..

Every day I ask
That you always
Grant me serenity
Strength in my heart
To face all
adversities ever so challenging
Surely, there is meaning to all these

You give me hope
Answer all my questions
Face everything with tranquility
And a deep sense of gratitude
I pray that you always
Watch all my moves
Bless me...i need your grace

Oh God, light up my heart, my soul
to face everything
This adversity filled life
Oh God, I surrender everything to You
So that my soul is at peace
In your guidance, always

There were times when I feel
This life is as fragile as glass
Without patience
Will be broken to smithereens
Strengthen my heart
To go through all, oh
Strengthen me, make me steadfast

Warrior of the Light Online

2009-10-01T00:27:00.001+08:00

Warrior of the Light Online

Posted using ShareThis

One Flaw In Women - by Unknown

2009-07-25T01:31:00.002+08:00

Women have strengths that amaze men.
They bear hardships and they carry burdens,
but they hold happiness, love and joy.

They smile when they want to scream.
They sing when they want to cry.
They cry when they are happy
and laugh when they are nervous.
They fight for what they believe in.
They stand up to injustice.

They don’t take “no” for an answer
when they believe there is a better solution.

They go without so their family can have.
They go to the doctor with a frightened friend.

They love unconditionally.
They cry when their children excel
and cheer when their friends get awards.

They are happy when they hear about
a birth or a wedding.
Their hearts break when a friend dies.
They grieve at the loss of a family member,
yet they are strong when they
think there is no strength left.
They know that a hug and a kiss
can heal a broken heart.

Women come in all shapes, sizes and colors.

They’ll drive, fly, walk, run or e-mail you
to show how much they care about you.

The heart of a woman is what
makes the world keep turning.

They bring joy, hope and love.
They have compassion and ideas.
They give moral support to their
family and friends.

Women have vital things to say
and everything to give.

HOWEVER, IF THERE IS ONE FLAW IN WOMEN,
IT IS THAT THEY FORGET THEIR WORTH.

ARE YOU A GENIUS?

2009-07-21T12:20:00.003+08:00

I found this on ChongZeMin's blog, a 24 year old in LSE.
Very interesting indeed..take a look.
*
Which way is she turning

Purely to boost my flagging ego ;oD

2009-07-07T08:14:00.003+08:00

Monday July 06, 2009

Born today, you are one of those rare and wonderful individuals able to live life almost entirely on your own terms without having any run-ins with others who expect things to be done according to the rule book. You are creative, energetic and always ready and willing to pitch in -- but those around you must resign themselves to the fact that what you do, and how you do it, will often defy description. You get things done in style, and you win rave reviews from the world at large -- except, of course, from those who are jealous of your freewheeling manner.

Caring and generous, you will always do for others what needs to be done, even when it involves some kind of self-sacrifice. You seem to know where you have to be and what you have to do without being told, and your ability to be efficient and thorough is not easily matched.

Della Reese, singer; Nancy Reagan, U.S. first lady; Janet Leigh, actress; Sylvester Stallone, actor; Dalai Lama, Tibetan spiritual leader; George W. Bush, U.S. president; John Paul Jones, naval hero.

The Story of The Plum

2009-05-19T21:50:00.003+08:00

I received this beautiful note from a friend who left it as an offline message on my Yahoo Messenger. It is wonderful how God speaks to you to lift you up when you are sprawled on the ground. I would love to share this with you.

A plum once said, just because a banana lover came by, I converted myself into a banana. Unfortunately, his taste changed after a few months and so I became an orange. When he said I was bitter I became an apple, but he went in search of grapes. Yielding to the opinions of so many people, I have changed so many times that I no more know who I am. How I wish I had remained a plum and waited for a plum lover.

Just because a group of people do not accept you as you are, there is no necessity for you to strip yourself of your originality. You
need to think good of yourself, for the world takes you at your own estimate. Never stoop down in order to gain recognition. Never let go of your true self to win a relationship. In the long run, you will regret that you traded your greatest glory
- your uniqueness, for momentary validation. Even Gandhi was not accepted by many people. The group that does not accept you as you is not your world.

There is a world for each one of you, where you shall reign as king / queen by just being yourself. Find that world... in fact, that world will find you.

What water can do, gasoline cannot and what copper can, gold cannot. The fragility of the ant enables it to move and the rigidity of the tree enables it to stay rooted. Everything and everybody has been designed with a proportion of uniqueness to serve a purpose that we can fulfill only by being our unique self. You as you alone can serve your purpose and I as I alone can serve my purpose. You are here to be you... just you.

There came a time when you were required on this planet and hence you were sent. Let us be the best we can be. Don't miss yourself and let the world not miss you.

The falcon that wouldn't fly

2009-05-17T15:59:00.004+08:00

I once had a conversation with a new found friend on Facebook. He extended his hands and ears as comfort for poor single mother me. I told him that I abhor sympathy, because it makes me feel small and incapable. I understand people are only trying to help. Feeling small immobilise me and acts as a lid preventing me from reaching for the stars...a feat I am slowly beginning to believe is achievable...I still feel small sometimes, because there are some people I still owe and there are times when I still need to ask for help from others. However this occasion is getting less and less.
During this conversation, I asked him whether he has heard about the story of the falcon which refused to fly. I didn't manage to tell him, and think I owe him the story.

Once there was a king who was given 2 falcons as a gift. These falcons were mere chicks when they were lovingly placed in a gilded cage and presented to him. Both were nurtured with love and patience by the Royal Falcon Trainer.

Months and days passed, and the day finally came when the birds were ready to take their first flight. However, only one bird mastered the feat. It flew majestically as falcons should, while the other just stood on its branch and watched. The trainer was puzzled ..nothing he tried worked. More months and days passed and finally the Royal Falcon Trainer had to reveal the problem to the king. The king, a reasonable monarch and an animal lover summoned sorcerers, shamans, circus trainers and people from every other possible vocation to help the falcon fly. A hefty prize was offered. But, no one succeeded.
Finally the king thought..perhaps I should summon someone close to nature..someone with no pompous prefix to his name..no Dr or Professor,or Sir or Datuk ...Let's try the humble gamekeeper. So the gamekeeper was summoned and given the royal decree, to get the falcon to fly.
Early next morning, when the King stuck his head out the window to seep the fresh morning air, his heart was filled with joy when he saw two falcons flying gracefully high up in the sky, soaring and dipping gracefully in concert. He immediately summoned the gamekeeper to ask what magic spell he had cast to accomplish what seemed to be the impossible.

The gamekeeper looked incredulously at the king..and said "It wuz easy sire...I just cut off the branch..."

Wonderful English From Around the World

2009-04-15T17:48:00.001+08:00

In a Bangkok
temple:

IT IS FORBIDDEN TO ENTER A WOMAN, EVEN A FOREIGNER, IF DRESSED AS A MAN.

?

Cocktail
lounge, Norway:

LADIES ARE REQUESTED NOT TO HAVE CHILDREN IN THE BAR.

Doctors office, Rome:

SPECIALIST IN WOMEN AND OTHER DISEASES.

Dry cleaners, Bangkok:

DROP YOUR TROUSERS HERE FOR THE BEST RESULTS.

?In a Nairobi restaurant:

CUSTOMERS WHO FIND OUR WAITRESSES RUDE OUGHT TO SEE THE MANAGER.

?

On the main road to Mombassa, leaving Nairobi:

TAKE NOTICE: WHEN THIS SIGN IS UNDER WATER, THIS ROAD IS IMPASSABLE.

?

On a poster at Kencom:

ARE YOU AN ADULT THAT CANNOT READ? IF SO WE CAN HELP.

?

In a City restaurant:

OPEN SEVEN DAYS A WEEK AND WEEKENDS.

In a cemetery:

PERSONS ARE PROHIBITED FROM PICKING FLOWERS FROM ANY BUT THEIR OWN GRAVES.

??

Tokyo hotel's
rules and regulations:

GUESTS ARE REQUESTED NOT TO SMOKE OR DO OTHER DISGUSTING BEHAVIOURS IN
BED.

On the menu of a Swiss restaurant:

OUR WINES LEAVE YOU NOTHING TO HOPE FOR.

In a Tokyo bar:

SPECIAL COCKTAILS FOR THE LADIES WITH NUTS.

Hotel, Yugoslavia:

THE FLATTENING OF UNDERWEAR WITH PLEASURE IS THE JOB OF THE CHAMBERMAID.

Hotel, Japan:

YOU ARE INVITED TO TAKE ADVANTAGE OF THE? CHAMBERMAID.

In the lobby of a Moscow hotel across from a Russian Orthodox
monastery:

YOU ARE WELCOME TO VISIT THE CEMETERY WHERE FAMOUS RUSSIAN AND

SOVIET COMPOSERS, ARTISTS AND WRITERS ARE BURIED DAILY EXCEPT THURSDAY.

A sign posted in Germany's Black Forest:

IT IS STRICTLY FORBIDDEN ON OUR BLACK FOREST
CAMPING SITE THAT

PEOPLE OF DIFFERENT SEX, FOR INSTANCE, MEN AND WOMEN, LIVE TOGETHER

IN ONE TENT UNLESS THEY ARE MARRIED WITH EACH OTHER FOR THIS PURPOSE.

?

Hotel, Zurich:

BECAUSE OF THE IMPROPRIETY OF ENTERTAINING GUESTS OF THE OPPOSITE

SEX IN THE BEDROOM, IT IS SUGGESTED THAT THE LOBBY BE USED FOR THIS

PURPOSE.

Advertisement for donkey rides, Thailand:

WOULD YOU LIKE TO RIDE ON YOUR OWN ASS?

Airline ticket office, Copenhagen:

WE TAKE YOUR BAGS AND SEND THEM IN ALL DIRECTIONS.

A laundry in Rome:

LADIES, LEAVE YOUR CLOTHES HERE AND SPEND THE AFTERNOON HAVING A GOOD TIME.

The Secret

2009-04-12T22:51:00.004+08:00

I was hit by Attention Deficit Disorder again..and went blog hopping. Paid a visit to one of those blogs I used to visit some time back - *
Dying Man's Daily Journal and found this Gem..he said in his post to pass it on..so here I am passing it on:

One day, one friend asked another,
‘How is it that you are always so happy?
You have so much energy,
And you never seem to get down.’

With her eyes smiling, she said,
‘I know the Secret!’
‘What secret is that?’
To which she replied,
‘I’ll tell you all about it,
But you have to promise to
Share the Secret with others.’

‘The Secret is this:
I have learned there is little I can do
In my life that will make me truly happy.
I must depend on God to make
Me happy and to meet my needs.
When a need arises in my life,
I have to trust God to supply
According to HIS riches.
I have learned most of the time
I don’t need half of what I think I do.
He has never let me down.
Since I learned that ‘Secret’, I am happy.’

The questioner’s first thought was,
‘That’s too simple!’
But upon reflecting over her own life
She recalled how she thought a bigger house
Would make her happy, but it didn’t!
She thought a better paying job
Would make her happy, but it hadn’t.
When did she realize her greatest happiness?
Sitting on the floor with her grandchildren,
Playing games, eating pizza or reading a story,
A simple gift from God.

Now you know it too!
We can’t depend on people to make us happy.
Only GOD in His infinite wisdom can do that.
Trust HIM!
And now I pass the Secret on to you!
So once you get it, what will you do?

Ponder.....there is a 'Mother'

2009-04-02T19:11:00.004+08:00

Free Stock Photos for websites - FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Imagine this scene if you will. Two babies are in utero confined to the wall of their mother's womb, and they are having a conversation. For the sake of clarity we'll call these twins Ego and Spirit.

Spirit says to Ego, "I know you are going to find this difficult to accept, but I truly believe there is life after birth."
Ego responds, "Don't be ridiculous. Look around you. This is all there is. Why must you always be thinking about something beyond this reality? Accept your lot inn life. Make your self comfortable and forget about all of this life-after-birth nonsense."

Spirit quiets down for a while, but her inner voice won't allow her to remain silent any longer. "Ego, now don't get mad, but I have something else to say. I also believe that there is a mother.

"A Mother!" Ego Guffaws. "How can you be so absurd? You've never seen a Mother. Why can't you accept that this is all there is? The idea of a Mother is crazy. You are here alone with me. This is your reality. Now grab hold of that cord. Go into your corner and stop being so silly. Trust me, there is no Mother."

Spirit reluctantly stops her conversation with Ego, but her restlessness gets the better of her. "Ego," she implores,"please listen without rejecting my idea. Somehow I think that those constant pressures we both feel, those movements that make us so uncomfortable sometimes, that continual re-positioing and all that closing in that seems to be taking place as we keep growing, is getting us ready for a place of glowing light, and we will experience it very soon."
"Now I know you are absolutely insane," replies Ego, "All you've ever known is darkness. You've never seen light. How can you even contemplate such an idea? Those movements and pressures you feel are your reality. You are a distinct separate being. This is your journey. Darkness and pressures and a closed in feeling are whatlife is all about. You'll have to fight it as long as you live. Now grab your cord and please stay still."
Spirit relaxes for a while, but finally she can contain herself no longer. "Ego, I have only one more thing to say and then I'll never bother you again."

"Go ahead, " Ego responds impatiently.
"I believe all of these pressures and all of this discomfort is not only going to bring us to a new celestial light, but when we experience it, we are going to meet Mother face to face and know and ecstasy beyond anything we have ever experienced up until now,"
"You are crazy, Spirit. Now I am truly convinced of it."

Excerpt from Your Sacred Self by Dr Wayne W Dyer.

HO HUM the UMNO Elections

2009-03-26T11:33:00.002+08:00

A very appropriate video clip in conjunction with the announcement of the results.

FRIEND FOR A SEASON

2009-03-08T23:25:00.006+08:00

Whenever I lament about being hurt, I am told that it is up to us to choose how we respond to life's challenges.It is how we respond emotionally and mentally that create either suffering or joy.

I was told feeling hurt is not necessary..I just need to 'Be'..These after all are illusions

The person who told me this used to be a shoulder to cry on, and the person whom I have trusted with everything that I have..my memories, my stories, my life. But this friend has transcended to a level of awareness beyond my perception. She is now invincible. Nothing hurts her anymore andtherefore, nothing she does SHOULD hurt anyone. After all these are all illusions.

In my quest for some semblance of truth in this whole fiasco of lies, I found this.

People come into your life for a reason, a season or a lifetime. When you figure out which one it is, you will know what to do for each person.

When someone is in your life for a REASON, it is usually to meet a need you have expressed. They have come to assist you through a difficulty, to provide you with guidance and support, to aid you physically, emotionally, or spiritually. They may seem like a godsend, and they are! They are there for the reason you need them to be. Then, without any wrongdoing on your part, or at an inconvenient time, this person will say or do something to bring the relationship to an end. Sometimes they die. Sometimes they walk away. Sometimes they act up and force you to take a stand. What we must realize is that our need has been met, our desire fulfilled, their work is done. The prayer you sent up has been answered. And now it is time to move on.

Then people come into your life for a SEASON, because your turn has come to share, grow, or learn. They bring you an experience of peace, or make you laugh. They may teach you something you have never done. They usually give you an unbelievable amount of joy. Believe it! It is real! But, only for a season.

LIFETIME relationships teach you lifetime lessons: things you must build upon in order to have a solid emotional foundation. Your job is to accept the lesson, love the person, and put what you have learned to use in all other relationships and areas of your life.

In my position, I have no right to claim deceipt, but I vow to love my friend all the same. Surely, this friend is a reflection of me, one way or the other. I learnt from this that being aware, being free from the the illussions of life, being a transcended individual, does not justify anyone the right to hurt others, whether by speech, deed or even thought. I want so much to think well of you and thank you for the season we had together. May all your seasons be even better than the ones we have had.

Cool restaurant, cold waiters..

2009-01-04T00:52:00.004+08:00

The buntings outside says Introductory Offer..Fish and Chips and Chicken Chop for half the price. Mariam and I thought..why not give it a shot. The restaurant looks chic.
We stepped in. The song of Pussycat Dolls floated out as we opened the glass door. Not the best kind of music to aid digestion, I thought..but nevermind. The black and white modern decore was pleasing to the eye and evoked a sense of class. The air was cool and pleasant. The greeting from the waiters ...chilly.

Nobody batted an eye lash at us. I had this sensation as if I have just snuck into a nice home, unwelcomed. We found a table we liked and made ourselves comfortable. At a corner two young malay men were sitting and chatting while eating nasi campur. It was 11 am in the morning but I guess some people prefer to have a heavy brunch. They were wearing black collared t-shirt with black trousers and had black aprons a cursived "Splendid" embroidered on their lapels. Uniform as classy as its interior. It was a good 10 minutes before an expressionless waiter presented us with the menu. “Apa yang sedap (What’s nice?)”, I asked him. His expression remained the same. "Cake ni sedap tak (Is this cake nice?)", He didn't answer. I was beginning to wonder if he just had his botox shot, or if he had some facial palsy. “Mestila awak kena kata sedap kan? Sebab awak kerja di sini (Surely you have to say it's nice, since you work here, right?) ” He gave me a half grin..ahh he CAN smile, I thought. I looked at Mariam and we smiled a private smile. We placed our order and he left.

I thought..forget the treatment, perhaps I can use this place to journal and read my book in the morning....just as that thought crossed my mind..the peaceful ambiance, flavoured by Pussycat Dolls’ songs was smashed to smitherins by a cackle of laughter and loud banterings at the cashier’s counter. The two waiters had finished eating and were teasing the girl at the counter loudly.

Classy decore, beautiful ambiance..all that for what..I am sure the restaurant owner had invested a hefty amount to garnish it with everything pleasing to the eyes, yet I wonder how much was spent to spruce up the most important element; the human factor. Did he take the trouble to make his staff feel proud to wear the restaurant’s uniform, so they act with respectful decorum when they adorn the restaurant's official attire. I also wonder what happened to the simple friendly gesture of smiling, and greeting guests, we asians are so famous for. Perhaps so much of our noble values are spent in our zealous chase of everything material.

2009 - Year of Courage and Hope

2008-12-31T23:09:00.007+08:00

It has been many years since I made a new year's resolution. I gave up because my resolutions unraveled within weeks. even days. From simple things like waking up at a certain hour of the day, to going to the gym twice a week, to earning a certain amount per month or year. As a result, instead of inspiring me, and spurring me on through the year it made me feel like a complete loser whose words are not to be trusted. A weakling, unable to achieve the simplest of tasks.

My hiatus from blogging has led me to many resources which made me understand that whatever I face in the physical realm stems in its entirety from my internal state of mind. And I thought..wow that isn’t too difficult..I just need to change my mindset and everything will fall into place.
Hence I realise also that the clutter that manifests in my physical realm is due to the clutter plagueing my mind. That is the broad guidelines of the principle..and for someone like me, it gives me hope.

I realise that there is nothing to worrry about. So long as I am granted my time on this reality called Earth, I have nothing to fear. I and my children will be sufficiently provided for...and the extent of our provision is in direct proportion to how much I believe we deserve.

Knowing that I can change my life for the better makes me happy. Knowing that it is as simple as changing my thoughts gives me HOPE and COURAGE to try. It makes me feel less intimidated as opposed to methods requiring the identification of physical targets too scary to draw up due to my history of failures.

Hence today, taking the cue from a blog I avidly follow,
Zen Habits, I am going to be brave and make these resolutions . I think I will be able to keep it this time, because it isn’t anything mechanical but deals with my consciousness. It will be an experiment to see whether these theories are for real and see how it manifests in my physical realm.

Here are my Four Resolutions which I shall call My Commandments:

1. To be true to myself..no more pretenses
2. To practice gratitude everyday and keep a gratitude journal
3. To act from love and not from hatred or anger.
4. To believe I can be better then ever before and forgive myself if I err from this path

There are many more I can list but for fear of being over zealous and overwhelmed I shall start with these four.

HAPPY NEW YEAR..MAY THIS YEAR BE A YEAR WE SCULPT INTO GREATNESS!

Is there a Silver Lining In the Slush and Rubble..

2008-12-07T23:33:00.010+08:00

I woke up with a start at 6.00 am. I rubbed sleep from my eyes to find the name flashing on the screen to be Kak Awe, my ex-husband’s sister. She wouldn't call at this hour unless it is terribly important. “There’s a landslide here..,"she said, "we are having a blackout.” That was expected, I thought. I asked her whether it’s on the way up to Bukit Antarabangsa as I saw some blue PVC sheets being laid on the steep slope along the road. "No,” she said, “it's at the bungalows. Abang Megat just missed it; he passed the location, just 15 minutes before it happened, and Ammar too. We are cut off...we are trapped in here.” I perked up...I obtained further details and finally managed to get a rough picture of where it actually happened....Yet the immensity of the disaster hasn’t sunk in. I found myself completely calculated, not really feeling, merely thinking, trying to identify solutions to the problem of them being trapped. Then, I remembered my sister, Nani. I told her I needed to call Nani because she hasn't called me, she is probably still asleep.
The first thing I asked Nani was, “You are having a black out now, right?"
“Yes, she said...why aaa?” she replied with a question...
“There’s a landslide, apparently about 7 bungalows affected...and you guys are cut off. No exit”
“Yes aa...where...Oh my God I can hear a helicopter...no electricity la, and water also very slow now. My battery running out. Lucky I charged the kids’ phones.”
“I will find out further and keep you wired. If I cannot get you, I will call their phones” I said.

I positioned myself at my watch post, in front of my puter.
There was nothing on the news yet, and when I googled, only old landslide stories appeared.

Later I opened my facebook and saw the first picture Nani posted. It was dark and I couldn’t see much. I saw the bungalow we all call the Cinderella house intact, and heaved a sigh of relief...it couldn’t be so bad...I thought. The road would be cleared within a day, at the most. Yet... a nagging worry was tugging at the back of my mind.

After half an hour, I saw Nani posted a brighter picture of the affected area. From her distance and angle, it still didn’t look too serious. It was only after 7 that the first news appeared on the Star Online website - 14 bungalows affected, and 4 people dead, 15 injured, 93 people rescued but 8 missing.
I began updating Kak Awe and Nani via sms and kept refreshing the page for the latest updates. I still thought it wasn’t too serious. I tried calling both of them but the line was getting congested. My heart constricted. A lump began to form in my throat. Fear and panic began to seep in slowly through my pores
Then Kak Awe called, but I couldn’t hear what she was saying. Slowly but surely I began to swell with panic. Then I saw the 7th update, which said that the 3 to 5 thousand residents who were cut off by the landslide will be evacuated...the graveness of the tragedy began to sink. I kept Kak Awe and Nani abreast with my SMSes.

Only when I saw the TV3 news, did I realise the immensity of the disaster...my legs felt like jelly...and tears began to stream down my cheeks. I looked at my phone and saw a message from Nani: “Can you pick us up at Athenaeum”. I called Kak Awe and asked her whether she was planning to leave...she said she was discussing with her husband... I was already reduced to tears. It was then, that Shake called me to tell me that he will be there to help too, I was so grateful.

I went with Umair, Johan, Zara and KT. We stopped to get mineral water and lots of bread so that they have something to eat, and we set out. Shake arrived first.
Seeing Nani and her family, my fear burst into joy. I was so relieved but relief gave way to worry again, since Kak Awe and family were still not seen. Kak Nab, Kak Awe's elder sister were there with her son, to wait for Kak Awe. After knowing that they were already on their way, I decided to leave. Meanwhile, Shake waited to see if he could help Kak Awe's family with transportation. Alas they had enough cars.

I am eternally grateful to Shake for his big heartedness. A friend in need like him is such a rarity. I am so blessed to have known and met him.

We made a pit stop at Diva for lunch. I can't imagine what it must have felt for Nani...having to leave her belongings behind...and having to live in a crammed room in my house, no air cond and such. Water pressure is also lower in my house as opposed to hers

Being a Cancerian, home is my sanctuary...and I know how off balance I would be if I were displaced like her. But she took it with such tranquility and grace.

Later, we had to drive back to BA to send my clothes to the laundry. Even if everything looked perfectly normal around the Giant area, you won't be able to dismiss the highly charged energy there. It was like the air, the trees and the earth were trying to tell us something. They speak too, but their language cannot be heard...it can only be felt.

It was only during this time that the immensity of the disaster sank in. Sadness fell like a heavy curtain around me...My mind cowered under the onslaught of “what ifs” ...As we went about our business, I thanked Allah for sparing my family and so many more. But my thoughts went to those who have lost their loved ones and their homes. I thought of how they are unable to carry on their normal business as I was, and of how their lives are changed forever.

I have always been able to find a wisp of silver lining or two in my tribulations...but in this case, the overcast is too vast and heavy for me to discern any light, just yet...It was then did I realise how small we are, and how nothing is certain in this life...

Paulo Coelho's Statutes For Life

2008-08-17T12:15:00.002+08:00

To open the virtual card, point your mouse to the bottom right hand corner and click.

I love this man, and I love the way he thinks and writes. I am inclined to agree with him, most of the time.

If Today Be Sweet- Thrity Umrigar

2008-08-12T22:03:00.001+08:00

If Today Be Sweet: A Novel by Thrity Umrigar

My review

rating: 4 of 5 stars
When I first read The Space Between Us by Umrigar, I was so mesmerised by her authorship that I was googling to find if she has any other published books. I was disappointed, then. That must have been about 2 years ago. A few days back when I was googling again to satisfy my craving for a shot of good literary work, I was elated to find quite a number of books by her and decided to take a trip to the bookstore to get this one. It is not as fast a read as the Space but as poignant and evocative as ever. Perhaps Tehmina's soliloquy touched me to he core because I am a single mother with a grown up son, whom I believe loves me as much as I love him. Perhaps Tehmina's closeness to Rustom reminded me of my mom and dad's closeness and how my mom is still coping from her loss when dad left her so abruptly due to a heart attack..perhaps. But definitely, without a doubt it is her gift to chain your attention with her beautiful flow of words, and the big heartedness of her characters..i recommend it to anyone who has a mom, has a wife, anyone who is a mom herself. It will make you a better person..surely...

Now I am craving for another good read..

View all my reviews.

MAGIC BLOCKS

2008-08-10T11:34:00.006+08:00

I was first introduced to this ingenious creation when I was 9 or 10. A family friend who returned from a study sabatical from England brought this as a present for me, Uncle Darmis and Auntie Rohani. When I was 6 years old, my parents decided to send me to a good Kindy in Green Lane. The Kindy operator sent and picked up children, but where I lived was out of the way. I was then staying in Brown Gardens Gelugor. So I transited at their home, a quarters within the RECSAM campus.My parents would pick me up when they returned from school at around 2pm.At the time, LEGO was unknown in Malaysia, at least not in Penang. Those original LEGO pieces are still kept in my mom's house in Minden Heights along with a hodge podge of other LEGO and DUPLO pieces I later bought for my elder children.

A few months ago I bought a set for my two little heroes..and it was the best decision I have ever made to part with my hard earned money. Muaz would come home from school and pour the bucket out while he is transported into his own LEGO world. It took a while for me to train him to change and eat and have his shot of Sustagen first before he is allowed to play for half and hour and later complete his homework before he can continue playing. Never have any toy I bought managed to capture his attention in this manner. The way the boys play is totally different from the way I did. Obviously I wasn't as imaginative as they are, because I was merely copying what was shown on the box, but the boys let their imagination roam free and create all sorts of things. Lately I am recipient to many gifts from vehicles to Aircrafts to Robots to cute little homes. I feel a twist of guilt as I toss these creations into its bucket at the end of the day since my workstation gets cluttered with them..but I know more will come my way..so I guess it doesn't matter..I only managed to take a picture of these three..but I promise there will be more to come.

Flipped

2008-08-09T22:22:00.002+08:00

¿noʎ ʇ,uop 'sıɥʇ ǝʌol ı ˙ɹoɹɹıɯ ʎʞoɯs ɐ ǝʞıl sı ǝɟıl ɹno zoɔ 'ʇı ʎɹʇ ˙ʞuıɥʇ noʎ ʇ,uop ƃuıʇsǝɹǝʇuı ǝʇınb sı sıɥʇ
find it here

MUAZ'S SCHOOL OPEN DAY

2008-08-09T17:30:00.009+08:00

He has been waiting for this for a long time. 2 weeks is a long time for a child of 5..Every morning when I or his brother sent him to school he would be asking me to go along with him, to see him take part in a colouring contest. "Can you please come with me, Ummi. Can you come and see me colour in school. I will colour so nice for you..please Ummi." I would have to say, "It's not today, Muaz..but on that day you will be with your Dad..you can ask Dad to take you, ok". Deep in my heart..I worry that he won't take Muaz and I know how that will break Muaz's heart. Muaz withdrew to a corner and sulked. Droplets of tears on his cheeks.."I don't want to go..". "Just two days Muaz..and you will be back with me again.." "I don't want to go.." he screamed..All I could do was hug him until his sobs subside. This has been the ritual everytime this issue is raised.

I feel helpless because the agreement is such. The youngest two has to go to their father every two weeks..the court has decided and I am not one to go back on my words. It is good that they have some time with their father, too. I know whatever God provides is always the best, and that belief has helped me face everyday with a positive attitude, even if it hurts me and appear to hurt my children sometimes. All I could do was hope and pray and trust. Meanwhile, whatever hurts or cuts my children came home with, I try my best to heal, because that is life. They will need to learn. And whatever joys they came home with I encourage and reinforce.

Friday came and went and the children were still with me. I am so grateful that things have worked out this way. So this morning we got ready to go to Muaz's school open day/art exhibition. The children sang and spelled and counted and coloured. While they were colouring, I had the chance to visit Muaz's class to see his artwork. After all was said and done, I had the greatest reward ever..one that not the rubies and diamonds in the world can match. Muaz came to me, kissed me and hugged me with great candour, and whispered in my ears, "Thank you so much Ummi. I love you so much". "I love you too, Muaz". "Do you think I am smart to colour?"(he always articulates his question in this manner when he has done something to make me proud) "I think you are brilliant, genius the most wonderful in the whole world, baby". Satisfied with the answer, he gave me a final hug and off he went again to play with his friends..

Muaz won a consolation prize in the colouring contest, but that is not important. Not to him, or to me. What's important is the fact that we spent time together and Muaz will have this archived in his memory. What's important is he knows that he is loved and we are always proud of him. Hopefully he will carry this values through in his life and when he has his own children, will appreciate and be proud of them, the way I am of him. I carry this value with me, because my parents bequethed it to me, and they lived the family values they preach. And it is those values that has kept me standing and held my children and I together during the hardest of times.

I am now floating with the joy of that appreciation that Muaz has showered me.

I am inviting you to share my joy..do watch this images I managed to record.

Another Funeral

2008-06-10T08:20:00.002+08:00

Another cousin of mine passed away yesterday. This cousin was quite close to the family, a first cousin, my mom's brother's son,. His dad, passed away when his youngest sister was about 2 or 3 years old ( I am not sure how old he was, then). My mom once recounted the incident of her elder brother kissing his children one by one as a farewell gesture, on his death bed and told Mom to help keep an eye on his children when he is gone. So, Mom and Dad kept their word and helped to ‘keep an eye’ on all his children. So at some point in each of their lives, they came to stay with us, so as to enable them to be placed in a reputable school, since school was (and is still even till today) allocated based on a child’s location of residence. So during that period, they became a member of the family; another sibling for me. They came to stay one at a time. So during that period, when my teacher asked how many members in the family I had, I remember always quoting two extra siblings, because there was always one of them in our family and I always thought that mother’s younger foster sister was my elder sister..

What struck me most during this funeral was that while I am lamenting about God’s “failure” to answer my prayers, there before me, stood a woman, strong and stoic as she came face to face with the death of her son. She has been well acquainted with Death, who has claimed so many of her beloved's lives, beginning with her husband when she was barely 30, and then a son, due to talasemia, when he was in his teens; and later another son, from the same disease; and today the latest addition of her offspring has been invited by Death to join those who have gone before her. And I thought..it must be a lot harder for a mother to see her child precede her , yet this mother who have lost three, did not complain. She surrendered and put all her faith and fate in the hands of Almighty God. While I?????
.

For that reason, this funeral was the most humbling experience for me. One that taught me to be thankful for all the children that God has blessed me with, regardless of the challenges that they face, or the challenges that they pose to me. It taught me to pause before complaining about my plight, and instead to seek the opportunity to find the blessings often hidden behind every challenge and hence practice gratitude for everything that God has bestowed.. It made me realise the wealth of wisdom behind everything that He bestows regardless of whether they are in the form of challenges or blessings. And that when we trace His actions to the roots, it will inevitably lead us to a point where we understand that they are all grounded in His Love and Benificence.

I saw the procession we made to the cemetry as a farewell gesture to a loved one, because we will not meet again for a long long time. But it is not like we will never ever meet again. God has explicitly described in the Quran , that we shall eventually do so in another world. I don’t know, perhaps we had the same procession in the spirit world before we were sent into our mother's womb..but God did not permit us to remember it, or we did not then have the physical facility to store the memory of that experience. And later on in the womb, we perhaps had the same procession or ritual before we were sent out to this world called earth...and now we proceed to another realm. With this realisation, instead of the deep seated fear that I used to experience when I encountered the death of close family and friends, I felt God's love cradling me and comforting me. I felt His Love and Benificence in the way He made us grow into these different forms, to cater to the environment in the different ‘worlds’ he has created for us.

I used to seek solace in other human beings to resolve or at least dampen the fear that I have about death, but now, as God made me stand alone, with no companion to share my fears, I begin to understand that another human can never give me the solace that I seek. It is only Almighty God who can bestow that boon, and this fear can only be overcome, by feeling His presence in the form of His LOVE and by being in communication with Him.

And I know that my cousin is in the lap of God’s Love now. He was a good man. And he is in a new world tonight..And the Prophet PBUH once said that if your sins are as far and wide as the distance between this earth and the sky, believe that verily, God's Grace is far greater than that!! (I hope no one will come and say that this is a false Hadith, since i am not too scholarly to quote the source..)

Mary

2008-05-31T19:59:00.005+08:00

"Mom, you’re lazy and stupid and ugly”, Mary said to her mom smiling a cheeky smile. Then she disapeared into the hall where the rest of the family were sitting, waiting for her to serve lunch

Maggie’s tears trickled down her cheeks. She wiped it off while she stirred her curry..
She could hear her husband Willy’s laughter...

Mary appeared again, “Dad said you are ugly and fat and slow,” the five year old puffy cheeked china doll appeared again, and off she went in a puff.

Maggie told herself, she doesn’t know what she is saying. She is too young to understand that it is not a joke. Mary was terribly close to her dad, the youngest and the favourite among the four children he sired with her. Tears fell like rain, as she wrestled to stop it, stifling the sobs that was battling to escape her throat. She must get lunch ready. She beat herself up for being such and incompetent wife and mother, who can't even make sure that lunch is served on time.

It's ok, she told herself, this is just an ephemeral world..when she dies, she will pay to enter heaven’s gate with her patience, and there everything will be perfect. Willy will love her just as much as she loves him, everything will be fine. It was said that this world is fleeting..compared to the hereafter, so she shall brace herself to face the worst here, for a better life there....

Lunch went uneventfully, with no one talking at the table, except Willy pointing out that the food was tasteless and telling everyone to close their mouths while eating.

“Tomorrow, you get Mary ready. I am taking her with me,” he said with a tone, which no one dared to challenge.

“Where to? just her? What about the boys?,” Mom asked.

“Just get her ready..” Willy said and got up to leave the table..

~~~~~*~~~~~

Mary hugged her mom, and clambered into the 4WD. She was quiet for a long time, until the car turned in a direction which was completely unfamiliar to her. “Where are we going, Dad?", she asked quietly...

“I am taking you to meet someone," he said looking at her with a tender smile. .

She looked at him, and felt a funny tiny sensation in her gut.

They turned around a final corner and she saw a woman waiting by the street. Daddy stopped and told her to climb to the back. The lady climbed in. Her lips painted scarlet..that was the first thing Mary noticed. Her eyes were heavily made up deep blue. Her cheekbones stained pink. The sweet smell of her perfume filled every nook and cranny of the car, and Mary’s nostrils, nauseating her. She must be pretty to Daddy's eyes. "Hi, you must be Mary,” she said as her red lips stretched into a smile. Want to come and sit with me? Mary knew she had to be polite, so she smiled and shook her head.

“This is Auntie Naddy, Mary..." Daddy turned around and smiled a brilliant smile. It was obvious that daddy was very happy, a certain kind of light seemed to gleam in his eyes. When was the last time she saw that gleam? It was so long ago, those days when he used to bring her and the rest of the family for holidays or for a good meal at a posh restaurant. It was almost like a dream. She has almost forgotten it ever existed...now she knows, Naddy.stole it..
Mary saw daddy’s hand slip across the hand brakes seeking for Naddy's. The tiny flutter in her gut, stirred again, a little more violently this time...can he do that? Something wasn't right. She somehow knew instinctively, this act was completely misplaced.

Daddy's hand found Naddy's and she saw him carressing her fingers while she carressed his. Mary felt a lump in her throat..but something told her to be silent. She felt like crying but the tears all seem to be stuck in her throat. The road began to climb...she wanted to ask where they were taking her, but she couldn't. She didn’t want to go with them, she just wanted to go home to Mom...finally they stopped. Mary could see a few Fairy’s Wheel and a Merry Go Roiund with horses...and a myriad of other rides. They climbed out of the car..Daddy held her hand, while Naddy took the other..."People must think she's your daughter..she's so pretty like you, " she heard her Daddy say and Naddy giggled, she couldn't look at them anymore. She felt so betrayed. Why? She didn’t know. Later, they put her on the merry go round while they waited for her on the ground..when her horse spun to the place where they were standing, she could see daddy hugging Naddy.. the flutter in her gut now became a violent stir. Her entire gut felt like pouring out onto the merry go round floor, along with her tears.

Just as the wrenching twist in her gut became unbearable, everything stopped.. Mary felt nothing..numb....

The rest was a blurr..

She walked with them, but registered nothing...

When she reached home, she neither smiled nor laughed nor cried..she hugged her mom dutifully. but did not cling with affection like she used to. She was silent..she saw mom's tear stained face but did not feel sorry anymore. She untangled herself and went straight up to change and laid awake for a long time in bed..

Muaz and Huzaifah's Space Oddysey

2008-05-30T11:27:00.004+08:00

They took a box which once housed a TV, coloured the wings with crayon, even did a dashboard with the polystyrene..and they're off to space....

The creativity of babies..i just have to immortalise it.

My Peculiar Aristocratic Title

2008-05-24T22:04:00.001+08:00

My Peculiar Aristocratic Title is:
Reverend Countess Shakirah the Intractable of Gallop Hophill
Get your Peculiar Aristocratic Title

Eleven

2008-05-24T18:57:00.002+08:00

The clock struck 11 again. The hour of bliss. He will be here soon. He is always on the dot, plus or minus two minutes. This is the hour she looks forward to every single day seven days a week, there's no holiday, no weekends, no annual leave, except for the times when he had to go away, out of state or out of the country. But even so he will call without fail and they will spend at least a few minutes to renew their vows and their love for one another. Just a few minutes to revitalise the very rare innate connection which they felt only they had.

The first time they met, they could almost pre-empt what the other was going to say. She could sense his sadness even if he was laughing boisterously pretending that everything was fly and he too could do the same. When she thought of him, within seconds he would call and they would chat about absolutely nothing for hours. In fact, whenever she was down or upset, that was the exact time he would call and the sun would peak through the clouds again and everything would turn around and be well again. She would know he was out of town, even before he told her.

11 was an implied agreement between them. No express promises were made, he would just be there rain or shine. Every time he sent her home after their rendezvous, the moment the car turned the corner near her home, she felt a deep sinking in her heart. She never spoke a word about it, neither did she plan to. But one night the words just bubbled out of her lips..”Every time we reach this corner, I feel really sad,” she said, looking out the car window, not daring to look at him. She felt like tearing her tongue and lips apart for betraying her.. "Ya..me too," came the almost unintelligible reply...she dared herself to turn and look at him. And when their eyes met, their implied agreement was signed in blood. She wanted to just crumble into his arms, but that was totally unacceptable. So she braced herself until they reached her home. Before she melted, she said a hurried thank you for the lovely drink and ran off into her house.

From that moment on, every day at 11 pm he would be there to spend time with her. They would take a ride through town, go for drinks and sit in their crib for a chat. That was the time when they could be themselves, she was his sounding board, a place he could just bare open his problems and cry if he wanted to. He knew she would understand and sometimes she would even have the answers. She also could do the same. It was their time, in their little bubble, when the whole world was a distant dream.. they cried they laughed and acted stupid together ..those few hours every single day. 11pm gave them a reason to go through the entire day just to taste the bliss of the hour...11 pm washed their souls from the pains of the day’s reality. 11pm got them ready to face the next day with renewed dreams.. and tonight, just like every other night..she waits for her 11 pm.. all made up and ready to greet him...

“Hello auntie...are you ready? Oh you look beautiful tonight"

“He’s almost here...do I look alright?” she smiled at the nurse who helped her up from the couch and handed her walking frame.

"You look lovely, Auntie."

“Come let’s brush your hair..make it nice and shiny.?" The nurse said kindly, as she ran the comb through her thinning hair which was almost all white now.

The nurse helped put her feet up and pulled the blanket over her breasts..it sometimes gets chilly at night, even if the summer days are scorching..."If I fall asleep, please wake me up when he arrives, ok?"

“Sure auntie..good night”

“Goodnight. Dear..I never told anyone that I love him and always will...”

The nurse smiled turned off the lights.

She sighed...That completed her ritual in room 104.

And she braced herself for the ritual in the next lonely room of the Nursing Home for the Aged.

Pre Breakfast Foreplay

2008-05-17T11:58:00.011+08:00

He sat down on the bed and gave me the most loving look I have seen in a long time. I have been so busy, it's been quite a while since we had spent some time together. I found his longing permeating across the room too much to resist. Admitting defeat, I walked across , lay down next to him and held out my arm. His piercing look touched the very core of my heart. Ahhh I am truly defeated and happy to be too. The day’s chores stretching out before me slowly melted into oblivion along with his dilating pupils in his light coloured eyes. When he's like this..I am almost certain that he loves me with all his heart...He moved closer to rest his head on my arm while his ‘hand’ reached out to touch my shoulder ever so lightly. Ahh moments like this are so rare these days.

I reminisced about how it all began. It’s been almost three years since I’ve known him. I am certain it wasn’t really love at first sight even though I am generally smittens by the likes of him . He had such an attitude and I thought he doesn’t even look that good. Those days he used to snap easily and was ready to take revenge with a vengeace even on small matters like touching him on the wrong spot. But when i found out about his congenital heart problem, and that he acted like that due to the discomfort he experienced, my compassion eventually gave way to 'lurve' .

But he has changed so much now. His turning point was the day KT and Zara found him struggling to breathe, and we hurried him to the hospital. He was in the ICU for three whole days, leaving us worried about whether he was going to pull through. It was then that we found out about his ailment. He was born with a heart too small for his size.

When we brought him home, he reformed..Of course he still snaps when you really touch him on the wrong spot, but now I know what to avoid, it doesn't happen too often ...and now with him on my arm..i feel like the whole world is at my feet...sigh...

Then as we were both about to doze off...”Makan makan makan (Eat,eat, eat)” Zara’s breakfast call rang through the house....he pricked his ears and in a flash..jumped off the bed to join his fellow felines for their breakfast..and just like that ..he was gone again for the day...

Figaro..I love you :-).

A slice of tale

2008-05-02T21:43:00.004+08:00

Maya’s sweat broke into beads on her forehead; funny however, that she’s feeling cold. She felt the numbness creep from her toes up to her ankles, slowly moving up to her knees. Her entire body ached, she didn’t know what to do..she decided to pull the covers over her head. But that amplified the sound of her drumming heart and made her already labourious breathing even more difficult. She changed her mind. She dared not turn her back to the window, nor does she dare turn toward it. Dared not sleep on her back, nor on her tummy, because Granny said that is how the bad spirits sleep and doing that would be an open invitation to them.

She heard it again a high pitched cackle which seemed to last for hours but probably was only for a few seconds..and it died off slowly. Then it was dead silence. The comforting humm of cars passing through the highway which can be seen from her bedroom window ceased by 2.30am. Just as the silence began to lull her to sleep..the cackle began again, and each time it did, it seemed to be getting closer to her window.

Even the clock appeared to be in cohorts with the cackler, by ticking ever so slowly. It’s now only half past three. It won’t be another 3 hours, at least, before the cockerel in the neighbour’s yard would cock a doodle doo, about the same time the army barracks would sound its morning horn to wake its inhabitants...another three whole hours before the world would come to life and the sound that wouldn't stop teasing her, would allow her to continue her slumber.

Life My Friend

2008-04-29T15:08:00.005+08:00

Sometimes Life has a way of making you feel that no matter how hard you try nothing is ever good enough. Many times, when you are already down, that is when life wrestle you to the ground. You try your best to do good, you set your mind to turn a better leaf the next day, and that would be the precise moment when it throws carcasses at you, and you will need to postpone your plan, because you need to clean it up. And when everything is almost cleared, and you eventually manage to pick yourself up, off it goes tackling you to the ground again, before you even manage to brush the dust off yourself.

Sometimes, you just help others because you want to help. You were not even thinking about God's merits, or that good things will come back to you, you just like helping people for the joy of it. But even then, life gives you challenges, as if to arm twist you into saying..'I shouldn't have helped'..Why, I wonder. Once I talked to God and told Him, if it is true that You try those You love most the hardest, please don't love me that much. I am tired of life, tired that I have to fight not just for myself but for 7 other lives.Tired of not being able to give them the best. Tired to have to keep telling them to be patient..Tired of saying I haven't got enough. .

The best part is, the challenges life throw at you, leave you completely desolate ..no friends, no one..you are expected to take everything in alone, whichever way you turn, you reach out, to the only people left that you trust, they turn their backs on you. You are left on an Island all alone to survive with next to nothing.

Life SUCKS to say the least..you don’t want to have anything to do with life, you want to throw in the towel, you lose faith in friends, moreover the only friend that you trust, is the first to turn his/her back on you. All these has left you numb. You desparately need to touch the base of your sadness, to cry and let it out of your system..only then, you reckon, you will feel better...and it is at this point that your thoughts become silent.

In this deafening silence..a certain kind of peace pervades over you. You feel something warm rising up from the grounds seeping through you, warming you up from the inside. You wonder what it is...ahhh is it LOVE?..surely it is LOVE...Then HOPE followed suit. These two wonderful feelings fuse together and fill you up to the brim. You begin to swell with the warmth, slowly but surely it begins to flush out the negative feelings from your system. Once they are all flushed out, from every pore of your being, the concoction of love and hope seeps out in a kaleidescope of multicoloured light, spreading itself far and wide all around you. You become engulfed in feelings of gratitude, love, forgiveness and compassion. You make a decision to love and help within your means, regardless, simply because it brings you joy. You realise, the world doesn’t revolve around you and you forgive your friend for turning his/her back on you, and you promise yourself you will never do that to him/her. You feel the turmoil of the person who has hurt you, and you know in your heart she didn't mean to hurt you.. it is inadvertent, and you are conquered by the feeling of compassion and you pray that the person is given peace because she is forgiven and loved. And that thought gave you pure joy.
And just like that, everything else falls back into place.
Just like that, you are friends with life again.
Just like that, you acknowledge life as your greatest teacher and embrace it with all the love that you have
And you decide to enjoy your ride on this earth, and give the best of you to everything and everyone around you, before you settle in her womb.

The Most Beautiful Sight To Behold

2008-04-26T22:22:00.008+08:00

The most beautiful sight to behold, in my opinion is two of the best martial artists doing their "thang'. One kick, the other block, spin and punch and the other squat and toss about while swishing his leg causing the opponent to fall, but the opponent, using the momentum of his fall, immediately bounces back gracefully into an upright position and in doing os swing kick the agressor. Both sweating profusely..panting like a running predator..with the beating of the chinese drums thumping in sync with the beating of your heart yet melting into the background as your entire attention is focused on the impeccably choreographed movements of the two fighting men.
Ahhh ..i devour the sights and sounds of such fights especially when the two men are..JET LI and JACKIE CHAN; in the same wonderful MOVIE!!

Forbidden Kingdom is a must see for kung fu movie buffs. Jet Li is one hell of a martial artist. I fell in love with him when I watched the Tai Chi Master, many years ago. While Jackie Chan..I have watched so many of his movies, I can't even remember which one was my first.

Both have aged, but obviously haven't lost their sting. And this is the first time I saw Jet Li smiling a full smile..and acting in the same movie as crazy Jackie Chan. Brilliant movie, lots of cliche..corny jokes in some parts but once you block that out, and make a decision to just enjoy the show, it becomes a relaxing watch. It even has some great Buddhist wisdom to boot... The few that i remember are..how can you learn anything when your cup is full...empty your cup..
Or
The water is fluid and soft, yet it can defeat the rock (or something like that)
or
Revenge will only come back to haunt you..or something like that..i am not very good at remembering words of wisdom like that.
I will obviously need to find the DVD soon.

2008-03-07T02:31:00.004+08:00

When there is divorce there's bound to be bitterness, heartache and animosity. My relationship with my ex-mother in law was very much like mother and daughter. It wasn't me..it was just her. She was a warm and loving person who embraced anyone who walked into her life. Regardless of race or religion. It was an honour to be her daughter in law. I know how her heart broke when my marriage ended. We were still in communication during the last leg of my marriage. She tried her best to help us make amends yet committed to still be by my side if I decided to unravel my marriage vows. And that was exactly what she did. But I did not want to create a rift between her and her son and his new bride.I realised how hard it was for her to balance between supporting me and her son. I concluded that by taking me out of the equation, the task to reconcile with her new daughter in law will be made easier. Her new daughter in law also will not need to work so hard to figure out how to strategise to make me look like the crook :), Hence, I decided to stay away. I had to sever ties so that there will be no reason for the new forged relationship to weaken in any way. And part of the reason, was also selfish, I was too tired of being accused of many things I did not do, by certain factions. I just wanted to move on.

There's a malay saying which goes- "to swallow will cause the child's death, while to spit out will cause the father's death,". Such was the situation my ex-mother in law was in.

Reconciliation was made and I achieved my objective. But on her death, I had to contribute the final deed for her. To pray for her and do whatever I can to ease the burdens of her children. Cutting the pandan leaves, tying the last knot of her shroud..anything else. I realise how much I love her, and I know she loved me back after knowing each other for more that 20 years. I just hope, that from where she is now, she knows that.

Tahlil for my Ex-Mother In Law

2008-03-06T00:03:00.001+08:00

I know I am a little late to post for Wednesday. Now let me come up with the genuine excuses..i was tied up with all sorts of stuff in the day time..and had a meeting all the way in Cyberjaya and had to rush straight for my Ex-Mother In Law's tahlil (like a prayer and memorial). I realise how much i miss her.
Ties lost are reforged. I realise how much I missed my ex sister in laws. Well I hope i still qualify for Nablopomo. I have to rest now, coz it is really tiring and I have tonnes of deadlines to meet.

My Ex-Mother In Law Passed Away

2008-03-04T22:40:00.003+08:00

I won't be saying much, except that my ex-mother in law passed away early this morning. The reality hit me when I was there to help prepare for the funeral and when I saw with my own eyes her pale remains, as if in a deep peaceful sleep. I am still unable to diffuse the gamut of emotions which currently seem to feel like one big untidy knot in the very pit of my being; ranging from sadness to grief to fear to i don't know what..It is tough to figure this out on my own...I was able to be a pillar of support to others, but when it comes to me, I have to go it alone..but well and good..that is how it is meant to be. And thank God for my wonderful sister and my seven wonderful babies. I will post again when I feel better.

Under One Big Sky

2008-03-03T21:47:00.005+08:00

As the day draws to a close, and I am completely blank about what I should blog about today, I begin to become restless. I have scribbles and scraps of ideas on things I would like to immortalise in my blog, but none well formed enough to justify a complete blog post. But I need to uphold my commitment to blog everyday for a month...and therefore to fill up this gap, I have decided to count my blessings.
There are many..countless blessings, infact. But one that deserves mention in this little space is that I am extremely grateful for the new friends I have made in the cyberworld through my blogging, and the bond with existing friends that I am able to strengthen. It is quite cool to browse through various websites and blogs to find nuggets of wisdom to fill the void within me and for me to carry along throughout the day, revelling in the beauty of the language and nuances used by the authors, seeing things I have seen all my life from one angle from a completely new perspective and knowing that I am not alone in my trials and tribulations, and that there are many who think like me. But to have a bilateral communication is truly something else, I feel like I have friends who speak the same lingo. And I am not lonely anymore. Thank you so much for reciprocating to my comments and for dropping by and leaving your comments so that I can return your gesture.

As I looked up to the sky from my balcony, I can see the peaks of the Petronas Twin Towers. (I live just 10 minutes' drive away from this grand landmark). And above it the sky with sprinklings of clouds illuminated by the towers' beautiful and expensive specialist lighting. Way above it the great big sky stretching out spanning this entire planet, forming an extensive roof above our heads..and I realise that we are all under the shelter of one gigantic roof, and it makes me feel close to everyone, regardless of where are feet are planted...

Brown Waxed Paper Brollies - Sunday Scribblings

2008-03-02T23:15:00.007+08:00

It was raining outside as I was writing this blog. My bedroom draperies were slightly opened and I could see how beautiful the curtain of rain looked as it fell on my balcony. Sheets of rain which pelted on the wooden railings splattered into beautiful splinters of blue and settled into transparent saphire droplets.

I love rain. I love the world after it rained. It is as if the world has just returned from the launderette. Everything looks so clean, the trees and grass looks fresher than ever. And the greyish tar on the road looks even darker as if it has just been freshly laid. Even my soul feels as if it has been washed. And I love the sweet smell of rain. It reminds me of the time when I was little, in good old Penang.

My first memories of rainy days are of brollies made of brown waxed paper with ratan ribs. It gives out this distinct aroma which is unique and wonderful when rain fell on it. And whenever it rains, wherever I may be, be it when I was in Sydney or in London, or in Kuala Lumpur, the city I now call home, my senses will be taken over by this wonderful sense of smell, it is as if I am transported in an invisible time machine back to those days when I used to live in this little house, in a neighbourhood called Brown Gardens; where the neighbours were multiracial. A truly intergrated Malaysian society with an Indian neighbour on my left and a Chinese one on my right and some Malays, Indians and Chinese staying in the row of houses opposite ours. Every evening, when the clock struck 5 , I was allowed to go out and play. I and the other kids regardless of race and religion would play hop scotch, police and thief, skipping, kali toi, masak-masak and many other games which we never managed to christen with a name, but nonetheless enjoyed tremendously. Among the most significant memory I have of this era of my life is of the time when my Indian neighbours taught me how to ride the bicycle. I went for quranic studies at my malay neighbour’s house and we celebrated every religious celebration there was, with no discrimination. Those were the days when we used the waxed paper brollies which gave out the wonderful aroma of rain.

The gusty wind blew rain into my face and my invisible time machine brought me back to the current time in my bedroom. Back to the time of automatic opening, wind resistant, fibre glass reinforced plastic ribbed brollies.

Reflecting on what I saw during my “time travel”, I wish we are less discriminatory today. I wish that my children can experience the same warmth, friendship and solidarity among their multiracial, multifaithed friends as I had during the days of the waxed paper brolly. In fact their sense of brotherhood should be stronger now that 50 years has passed since Malaysia achieved her independence. How can we achieve this, if we as parents still can't put aside our differences and embrace our similarities, and grow from there...

Sometimes we forget the most important questions

2008-03-01T02:52:00.004+08:00

These last few days I have not been as strong as I have been or would like to be. I hover around different webpages which have given me inspiration, and later went blog hopping. I know i am supposed to be working, but there are times when I know the best thing to do is to just go with the flow. Need to hit bottom to the point where there’s no where else to go but up, and that’s exactly what I am doing.

As always, God showed me again how He answers our prayers, I came across this beautiful, blog, owned by an equally beautiful mother of two, called THE PAINTED HOUSE .
All her posts interest and amaze me. I relate to her, since I am also a single mother, but at this point in time, this post really struck a chord. Here is a link to her post:What is your unrelenting passion?

I wish I can be half as eloquent as her and as sure footed in this expedition through life on planet earth.

The questions laid out on this page of her blog made me rethink again about my life and my journey.
1. When was the last time you did something for the first time?
2. If you think life is hard, what are you comparing it to?
3. What do you pack to pursue a dream and what do you leave behind?
4. How would you introduce yourself to God?
5. How old would you be if you didn't know how old you were?
6. How many ways do you know to free yourself?
7. If you had 5 minutes to live, who would you call and why are you waiting?
8. If you don't have the things you want, are you grateful for the things you don't have that you didn't want?
9. What would you attempt if you knew you couldn't fail?
10. Do you know where you are on your journey?

Among all the questions, I find question no.7 most urgent. Maybe if we live our life constantly asking these questions, there will be less regrets.

Thank you Jane. It is wonderful to find your blog.I hope we can be friends.

I MESSED UP MY LAYOUT

2008-02-28T23:51:00.002+08:00

I messed up my blog layouts again. I think I have done this once before. But I guess this is just like life. You take a whole lot of time and effort to build something, and it only takes a click of a button to destroy it. But that's ok, I will just need to rebuild it again, and I am sure this is going to be a really interesting journey.
I have lost all my buttons and links to my favourite blogs, but perhaps this is a doorway to new frontiers.
Yup, got my back pack ready, and I am off on my new adventure again

Loneliness

2008-02-26T19:22:00.004+08:00

I woke up in the morning feeling so down, I cannot even begin to describe it. A deep and profound sense of helplessness and despair was just hovering over me. I slumped back into bed, and just gave in to the feeling that began to overpower me...tears of sadness just trickled down my cheeks, and my silent sniffles eventually gave way to sobs. I wished I could just curl up into a ball and disappear..Signs have been showing me that i have to relinquish certain things that have been weighing me down, making me sad. How could I be so blind and stupid as not to see...

I needed to find my balance again, and there's only one way to do it:
I just let the whole emotion take control over me, i needed to get to the bottom of this all engulfing emotion which i have been bottling up for so long. I needed to feel and understand what it is that i am grieving so deeply about.

Grieving...hmm now that’s a clue..Somehow, i needed to get to my state of balance again, but what is this that is not allowing me to do that. I began to feel the deep sense of something terribly unpleasant bubbling up inside me..something which gave out this deafening high pitched whistling sound only audible to my ears...the kind of sound that penetrates so deep to the very quick of me..was it my ears that was the audience to this play of sound? can my heart hear?..does the heart have such faculties...LONELINESS...yes..It's you, isn't it..rearing your ugly head trying to grip and throw me off balance out of the ring just like a Sumo Wrestler. I am just completely sprawled and bruised all over, outside the ring of balance of course. I needed to get up, wipe off the dirt, and most of all heal the bruises of humiliation and rebuild my hope that there is still love left for me.
As I acknowledged Loneliness' presence, it dawned upon me that I have a full hectic day sprawled out before my feet, stretching almost endlessly. Denying and fighting him will do no good..that much, I know..this guy can be very persistent.
"Hello Loneliness," I greeted him.."I would love to sit and chat, unfortunately..you know I can't, not now at least," I said.
"Huh, really..you think you can handle me? You think you can make me go?", Loneliness replied with his normal arrogance, "What if I decide to stay?"
"Well Loneliness..I really mean it when I said I would love to sit and chat..but really not now..I love your company you know..but right now, we won't be doing justice to one another, so please please go home.."
"Bah! You can’t handle me, lady” he spat
Tears of defeat began to well up inside me and slowly feelings I have tried to keep at bay crept up on me, I began to feel that despair, of not having anyone to talk to at the same level, of the shoulder that I wish I have to rest my head once in awhile, of the grind I have to go through today, the financial problems I am facing all on my own and the list goes on and on...then..STOP!! I have to stop this! “Of course I can..I know you are trying to make me blame every other person that comes into contact with me for having you here..and ONE person in particular for that matter..but it is up to ME whether or not I decide to allow you to do that.. I said please but you wouldn't listen..now I command you to go home.." I conjured up all the resolve I had to convince him to leave..and he knew I meant it
“Please don’t send me home.."I noticed him weakening..and i began to feel refreshed
"Right now..why don't you take a break..go have a kit kat or something..go to sleep, you had a long night last night, bugging me..I need to let someone else take over your shift..how about Gratitude.."
“Ok Mistress..you call the shots as usual...don't have too good a day, coz you know, I'll be back..”
"You go rest Lonelinesss, you need it as much as anyone does..I will need you soon. Trust me, I will call you..very soon..I love you Loneliness, never make a mistake about that..so you go now and rest.."
“Alright Mistress..I love you too, and that’s why I am here..I will be here when you call me..but please don’t make me wait too long, that is when I will go beserk and come uninvited when you don't need me.." Loneliness said as he retreated. I hugged him and bade him goodbye
"Hi Gratitude," I greeted her. She was all glowing and well, as beautiful as ever..brilliant and incandescent.."Thank you for being here. You saved my day ..my life even :)"
"Look at these boys aren't they the cutest and the smartest thing in this entire universe," I said as we both looked at Muaz and Huzaifah sleeping soundly on my bed. I knew I will have to wake them up soon..and I will have to argue with Muaz that it was morning already..and he would say, “No Ummi, the sun is not up yet...it’s still night!” and the whole process which I have gone through every morning would repeat itself but now, more often than not, with great JOY..Gratitude and I smiled. I knew that morning that the day which would unfold would be wonderful one..it is always wonderful to begin my day with a smile and Gratitude next to me. I took in a deep breath and gratitude squeezed my hand..Thank you God for keeping me alive today..for allowing me to erase all the wrongs that I have done and rewrite my life for another day. This is certainly going to be a bestselling box office movie..you and I, gratitude, and every other friend we have...loneliness, happiness, anger, pain, sorrow, laughter, jealousy..everyone..we all will add colour to this beautiful story...

SUMPAH BUKAN AKU YANG BUAT SUBTITLES NI!!

2008-01-28T02:10:00.000+08:00

Enjoy

The Making of an Animal Rights Activist?

2008-01-28T00:57:00.000+08:00

It was a peaceful and lazy Sunday afternoon, round about 3 pm. I was lazing around in my room, reminiscing about the 30 year reunion my alumni organized yesterday. Such an eventful day..I thought…and thank God I am still alive to meet all these wonderful people who have made such a mark one way or the other in my life.....when suddenly

“What the hell do u think you are doing?” an angry voice rang out breaking the peace.
Now that voice is familiar…I thought.

“This cat pooed on my roof! Is this your cat?" came a male voice, equally angry.

“My cats are always in my house..they only come out when I am out..anyways, it doesn’t matter whether it’s my cat or anyone’s cat, you can’t do that to animals!” that familiar voice retorted in anger.

I was wondering what happened…apparently Zara saw this neighbour who was walking with his wife carrying a heavy wooden rod and chasing a cat. He aparently hit the poor cat with a vengeance and being an animal lover, Zara just wouldn't have it.

"You can't do that to cats, you know! It’s a sin!" Zara screamed with anger, by then she was already shivering. "If I catch you doing that again, you watch it! I will report you to the SPCA!”

“Report la..I don’t care” he shouted back at her and rushed towards her brandishing the stick. Zara stood her ground and just stared at him with defiance.

Thank God his wife had the wisdom to stop him,"Ok ok, you take care of your cat ok..." she said as she pulled her husband away from my dear daughter, trying her best to calm him down. Apparently they just walked away after that..

I am so proud of Zara for having the courage to stand up for what she believe is right.

It reminds me of the time when many years ago, I saw a baby goat, a kid, which fell into a drain, without much calculation, I climbed down to try and save it, only to find out that !) the kid was too heavy for me to carry..and worse 2)I couldn't climb out because the drain was too deep ..how i got in, i can't remember....so while the kid bleated ...i had to put aside my embarassment and joined it in chorus "Help! Help!"..No one except for the young chinese neighbours who carried me and the kid out knew about this...I wouldn't leave the drain until they picked up the kid too .. but that's another story …

I know most people would just turn a blind eye to what this man did. Well done my daughter..you are really something and I know you will be great, just as all your brothers and sisters will too. It doesn't matter what other small minded people who only know how to look for our shortcomings think and say. I am really really proud of you

The Divine Matrix

2008-01-19T21:39:00.000+08:00

I love this.

Moving on

2008-01-03T15:52:00.000+08:00

The time is eventually up for me to end my sabbatical from my blogging. I have traveled far and deep, more into myself than anywhere else to seek healing and rebuild myself spiritually and emotionally. This journey has been most fruiful during the last 10 days or so. How little did I understand the strength that God has bestowed upon us humans, being the best of His creation. I praise Him for making me understand that all that I have gone through, and all the individuals I have met, loved and detested alike, were the greatest teachers customised by God and sent into my lap, especially for me. Some for a season, some for a couple of years, some for decades while others have lasted till this very day. That the only way to heal is to forgive ourselves and everyone and everything; and henceforth learn to love, without judging.

With this awareness and a renewed spirit, I am ready to continue on this journey of life, with the veil of judgment being removed from my vision.

I applaud and respect the person who has taken the chance and borne the accusations of betrayal in order not to betray his own soul and who has gritted his teeth and appear heartless when he disappointed another to be true to himself.

Many more lessons can surely be learnt..after all, a teacher once told me- "no problem no fun"

To the person whom I love and whom I hope one day will become my reality, I dedicate this poetry ,from the book by Oriah Mountain Dreamer, called The Invitation

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living
I want to know what you ache for
and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.

It doesn't interest me how old you are
I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool
for love
for your dreams
for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon...
I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow
if you have been opened by life's betrayals
or have become shrivelled and closed
from fear of further pain.

I want to know if you can sit with pain
mine or your own
without moving to hide it
or fade it
or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy
mine or your own
if you can dance with wildness
and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your
fingers and toes
without cautioning us to
be careful
be realistic
to remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me
is true.
I want to know if you can
disappoint another
to be true to yourself.

If you can bear the accusation of betrayal
and not betray your own soul.
If you can be faithless
and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see Beauty
even when it is not pretty
every day.
And if you can source your own life
from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure
yours and mine
and still stand on the edge of the lake
and shout to the silver of the full moon,
"Yes."

It doesn't interest me
to know where you live or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up
after a night of grief and despair
weary and bruised to the bone
and do what needs to be done
to feed the children.

It doesn't interest me who you know
or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand
in the center of the fire
with me
and not shrink back.

It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom
you have studied.
I want to know what sustains you
from the inside
when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone
with yourself
and if you truly like the company you keep
in the empty moments.

42 eventually

2007-07-08T16:58:00.000+08:00

I turned 42 eventually. I was going home after a long day at the office meeting almost impossible deadlines and as I was going to my car, I saw all my babies outside..and I said..what are you people doing here! And they said "Alamaaaak Kantoi!" (Oh dear Busted!). They were supposed to give me a surprise Party. Umair who was not supposed to be back made the loooong trip home from Cyberjaya..and we had a grand party even if my two office mates couldn't make it.
Here are some of the photos taken..of course Muaz argued that it was his birthday and that was his cake..due to some miscommunication, there were two cakes so well and good :-)

I DON'T BELIEVE I AM A RED!!

2007-07-02T16:58:00.000+08:00

Your Aura is Red

You have a high level of emotion. This can mean passion, but it can also mean rage.
Usually, you don't take these emotions out on others. You just use them as motivation - and it works!

The purpose of your life: embracing all the wonders of the life, lots of travels, and tons of adventures

Famous reds include: Madonna, Marilyn Monroe, Jennifer Lopez

Careers for you to try: Dancer, Boxer, Surgeon

What Color Is Your Aura?

Tiger Woods' Secret Of Success

2007-07-01T12:55:00.001+08:00

Anyone wants to know one of Tiger Woods' success secret? Well here it is:

“My parents always told me they loved me every night, every time we said goodbye. That was just something that I was never afraid to go out there and push myself to the limit. And if I failed, so what?
I always had them to pick me up. I think that’s something that not all people have, but I was lucky to have that my entire life.”

I found this on one of my favourite blogs,the Intent Blog
That is the kind of parent I want to be. It doesn't matter that single me has to stand for the plural "parents". I set my mind to do it. And I think every parent should too.

Getting A's and excelling in academics isn't everything. And regardless of how bad things are, YOU as a parent should be there for them, should give them hope that they are really made of good stuff..simply because they are.
"Kaizen" should be the mode here..not "automatic switch mode", expecting them to change in a split second..
and utter only positive loving words to them.
Alway always have open arms for them to fall into..
And never feel too high and mighty to say you are sorry...because parents err too..infact, all the time...

Well you can't rewrite the begining, but you certainly have the chance to make right the end.

I love my kids with all my heart and they are getting better and better every day...

friends for life

2007-06-30T16:24:00.000+08:00

Just last week, my daughter had to make up some names for her school project. She was supposed to conduct a survey on income levels and career or something of that nature, and since I do not have many friends that I meet and we are like recluses in our area, she had to make some of her subjects up. Her tuition teacher warned her against making up Chinese names..because according to him..it will stick out like a sore thumb....the chinese would know... So she asked me to come up with my primary school friends’ names..I was glad quite a few of them rolled out smoothly on my tongue..but then there were some..which I just couldn't remember. I tried to picture them at their designated seats in Standard 6 Mawar Green Lane Convent 2..some seats were without occupants, some occupied by faceless girls, while others I couldn’t place a name to their faces. Some I just remembered their Christian names, while others, I had their names spinning somewhere at the tip of my conscious memory. I once vowed that I will never ever forget them..I remember how mom just smiled when I said that..because she knew that I would..
But my batch mates in Kulim, is a different story altogether. Having lived with them under one roof for five formative years (yes i consider those years formative, it formed my personality and general outlook about life), I hold these individuals close to my heart. These people I am positive I will never forget till the day I die. I keep telling my children, that it is these friends that you make in secondary school which will stay with you for life. Yes you will leave them behind for a while, move on, get on with your life, chase your dream, build a career, build a family..but one day, you will realise these are the friends that you read about in poetry and in quotable quotes. Who will be there for you when you are in need. All the idiosyncrasies which you despised when you were in school with them, will dissipate into thin air, and you will start to see only their best side. Even if you disliked them when you were in school, they have been so embodied into you that to pry them away will entail cutting bits and pieces of you away too, and you realise that you actually love them. I look forward to my reunions with them with glee. I mark the date weeks ahead and check the date again anda again less I forget or get confused. And inspite of the 30 odd years which lay between the time since we bade our last tearful farewells, the wrinkles that has formed on each and everyone of us, the hair loss (for the guys), the greying strands of hair, the extra flesh in odd places..I see them just as those 17 year old girls and boys I used to know. I love them with all my heart.
Last two weeks , we girls had a wonderful reunion at Ikea..not many came but enough to make our hearts glow to last us till the next reunion. It was grand to see ka..oops i mean Rani..so vogue and beautiful as ever. Liza brought along her cute baby girl who has grown so much from the last time I saw her. And of course Wan brought along her twin princess in their beautiful frilly dresses. My heart warmed to see my beloved friends..I am still carrying the good feeling of seeing them around until today. And when it gets chilly, I just need to look at these pictures and give one of them a buzz :-)

try nt 2 be so bitter, it already mk u look so old

2007-06-19T15:53:00.000+08:00

Out of the blues today I received an sms in my phone just a moment ago. Among other things said to satisfy the heart of the sender was "Try not to be so bitter, it already make u look so old". It brought a smile to my lips which spread to my eyes and to my heart..and lo and behold add another wrinkle on this ‘old face’.
Thank you dear sender. It is a reminder I do not need from you. I know I am mature, and looking my age is something I do not try to avoid. Every wrinkle I develop is a testimony of my life. Every single crease tells its own story, every joy every pain every loss every gain. I look "so old" because I am and I have no grouses about that. With great gratitude to my Creator I enjoy what He still grant me to enjoy, good food, good life Alhamdulillah. In fact I need not look at myself to feel old. I look at my children growing everyday, into better persons, taking full responsibility as sons and daughters and brothers and sisters. Every struggle I make to provide for them, to get them back on track with their education and to build their self esteem which was almost completely demolished is a reminder that I am ageing. I realise it is a responsibility God has placed on my shoulders which I have carried and will continue to carry with joy. I ask for nothing back except to see them happy and successful in their own right.
Am I bitter? Again i thank you for probing into my thoughts and mind, asking me to revisit my real intentions for each of my actions. People need that sometimes.
So thank you dear sender. I really appreciate what you have done. May God bless you.

FATHER IN A MILLION

2007-06-18T20:03:00.002+08:00

I bet many children who have lost their mother long for a father who love them this much. Perhaps the father has refrained from remarrying for fear that the incumbent may not be able to love his children with all her heart.
Many studies have been carried out on the effects of positive father child relationships. Whilst mother child relationship is important, findings of these studies unanimously show the positive impact of loving father-child relationships on children development.
Surely thse kids will grow to be wholesome adults.

I hope Star will soon feature a Muslim father who is as noble. I knew a few when I was much younger. One of them was my father's cousin, whom after the death of his wife raised his children single handed until they were all successful in their own right. Then only did he worry about looking for a new wife.

the link to this article is here

SUPERDAD DOES IT ALL ON HIS OWN

By YENG AI CHUN

KEPALA BATAS: He runs a 4ha vegetable farm, takes care of his two young children, cooks and does all the household chores.

Farmer Tiu Seng Nyap, 37, is something of a “superdad” to his daughter, Chien Hua, seven, and five-year-old son Chu Yin, assuming the roles of both father and mother since his wife's death in 2002.

His day starts at 6am when he prepares breakfast for Chien Hua before taking her to school. Then he tends to his farm in Pinang Tunggal, supervises his workers and returns home at around 8am to prepare breakfast for Chu Yin before packing him off to kindergarten.

With the farm just outside their house, he is back to work until noon when he buys lunch and brings the children home.

When the children do their homework, he goes back to farming, returning later to cook dinner.

“Dinner is just a simple meal with three dishes, mostly vegetables plucked from the farm. After that, I will tackle the household chores and only go to bed around 10pm.”

Tiu said his sister used to help out at home until she got married in December.

“I found myself cooking, washing and caring for my children while running the farm. Things have turned out all right so far and I’m very proud of my children as they are very well behaved,” he added.

Tiu said his wife Bock Kooi Nee died from womb infection just two months after giving birth to Chu Yin. He was then working as a salesman and often travelled out-of-state.

The family had a pleasant surprise when Penang Wanita MCA chief Ooi Siew Kim led a delegation to visit them at their Pinang Tunggal home on Saturday in conjunction with the Fathers Day celebration.

The women brought along a cake, school bags, stationery sets, chang (dumplings) and durians for the children.

“Wanita MCA recognises Tiu's sacrifices as a single father and we want to give him as much support as possible,” said Ooi.

another day at the courts

2007-06-16T16:17:00.000+08:00

Last Monday was another day at the Syariah Court for me. I have been going through life without any hitches lately. Everything well laid out. My chaotic days set in a pattern, well planned in every aspect to ensure that the paramount need of my children are covered - EDUCATION.
It was a cruel awakening when i received this letter, delivered to my son by hand.
It said:
Perkara di atas yang ditetapkan untuk sebutan pada 11 hb Jun 2007, jam 9.00 pagi adalah dirujuk.
Puan adalah diberi notis agar menghadirkan diri ke Mahkamah tersebut di atas pada tarikh dan masa yang dinyatakan. Sila ambil maklum bahawa sekiranya puan gagal berbuat sedemikian, kami memohon agar waran tangkap dikeluarkan ke atas Puan.
Translated:
The above matter which has been set for hearing on 11th June 2007, 9am is hereby referred.
You are hereby, given notice to present your self before the abovementioned Court on the specified date and time. Kindly be informed that should you fail to do so, we shall request for an arrest warrant to be released against you.
Now that isn't very kind, is it?
Is it really necessary to arrest me?
It just mind boggles me.

So my beautifully laid out plan for the week had to be relaid out..just a bit..and off to court i went..:-).
No worries..you just got to do what you got to do..
And I always am thankful for this odd trips I have to make to the court as it teaches me humility and gratitude for all the things that I have. It just makes me realise that you can plan so much, but it is up to Him. And it reminds me of the Ultimate Court we would have to face in the hereafter.

THE TRIP TO THE ZOO

2007-06-09T21:39:00.000+08:00

A week of the school holidays has slipped through my fingers like sand and all I did with my kids was take them to the movies. I was never a fan of the "Pirates" series, but i went anyways. No regrets there..for one, Orlando Bloom is soooooo cute ;-)
But i wanted to do something more interactive with the kids. Something which we all can chat as we go along..experience new things, that sort of thing...but at a reasonable price, of course..
So..why not ...the ZOO!!!
i decided to be as comfortable as possible..It’s going to be sunny, can’t risk ageing faster than i already am ..so i slathered on some sunblock, slathered blobs on my babies..it’s going to be humid, so i put on my old t a cotton sweat absorbing skirt and the best footwear in the world....the "selipar jepun" a.k.a its glamour name the flip flops.. The kids can be as comfortable as they want..so i just let them pick their own attire, well, it’s always like that with muaz anyways..if he decides to wear pjs in the daytime, that’s what he will do ..so why argue. But thank God he chose something reasonable..

It was wonderful to just let the little ones take the lead and I just followed.
We really took our time to "smell the roses (elephant's pooh)". I have been to the zoo many times, in the past, but never with this resolve. As a result, it was as if I went with a new pair of eyes. There was no hurry, no one else to please except ourselves. So we walked, stopped to look at things i never noticed in the past, like how there are actually many species of bird in the lake..like storks, pelicans etc etc. Like you just need to look above among the leaves of the many trees to find storks relaxing on the branches. We had a great time counting the birds and identifying the different species. And in the past we never noticed the size of the animal's pooh.."Besarnya poo poo gajah!" We read the captions on the animals. We reached out to touch the friendlier animals. We saw the tortoise whose best friend is a crocodile and a Tapir who was so lazy he was chewing while he was sleeping..
It was sad to see the bird house closed..apparently for breeding, but who can tell..and the ape house looked so sad and lonely. Even the penguins seemed like the saddest penguins I have ever seen. The animal show also could have been better. I wonder what the problem is. It is really sad to see such a wonderful place deteriorate in this manner. Is it lack of funds? What is it...
I wish something can be done to make the zoo a better place for both the animals and the visitors..animals reside in a very special part in my heart. And all my children, thank God, are animal lovers too. If I have time, i don't mind sitting all day seeing the antics of the monkeys. I wish something can be done...
I once dreamt that one day when i am really rich, i would spend my free time not sipping coffee in la bodega, but showering or feeding the animals in the zoo...perhaps..one day..on days i don’t work with teens ..

MOTHER'S DAY PICS..EVENTUALLY..

2007-06-09T19:25:00.000+08:00

I have been up to my ears with work. Have been meaning to write, but never come around to it, until today.
Waited for weeks for my mother's day pics from my sister. And eventually I managed to get it from her camera. Since Umair has the family camera ( he brought it to Penang for his Gempak Selebriti ASTRO and then to Cyberjaya), I had to borrow Nani's camera for my zoo trip with the kids. She loaned me ever so reluctantly because I am known for my carelessness and clumsiness. But she loaned me anyway. Right after the trip, i rushed to the office to download them into my puter..But hey, it's a double bonus. We've got the Mother's day Pics and the Zoo pics all in one go :-). S
Can’t remember much, except it feels good to have lunch with Mom and the entire family.It is so fulfilling to see Mom beaming because we remembered to celebrate the special day.

A TICK FOR EVERY LINE

2007-05-13T19:44:00.000+08:00

I found this in the Sunday Star. I would like to congratulate fathers who have been successful in getting a tick for every criteria. I relinquish any form of responsibility which has given the children of such fathers their current point of view about their fathers and stepmoms.

You can also read it here
MAKING A STEP-MONSTER
Here’s a ‘guide’ to turning your brood against their stepmother.

In choosing a stepmother candidate, pick a person who is rigid and inflexible. Even better if she is a control freak.

It would also be preferable to marry someone who has never had children and knows zilch about parenting.

People tend to imagine all stepmoms like the evil queen in Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.
If she has children of her own, ensure that they come first and are treated better than your own.

Forget about merging parenting styles; let your new spouse assume total parental control. Allow her to set the standards in the household and mete out punishments.

Never let the children see you making an independent decision in her presence: they have to see that you are helpless in her evil grasp so that they can be angry with her and feel (very) sorry for you.

Encourage the stepmother to harass your children. The more she pesters them, the better it is to set her up as the bad guy, and you as the goodie-two-shoes.

To build up resentment for her, force them to participate in family activities and make them do household chores. Ensure that the children never see their stepmother picking up a vacuum cleaner, washing dishes or even scrubbing the toilet.

Never contradict her in front of your children. She is “perfect”, and your children just the opposite.

Be sure to tell the stepmother your conversations with your children. This will allow your children to understand that your relationship with her is much more important than yours with them.

Remember to tell people how you believe that she is a much better parent than their real mother. Make sure the children hear this so that they hurt deeper, setting the stepmother up for resentment.

For extra points, have children with the stepmother and compare their good qualities to your children’s bad.

Pretend your children don’t notice the change in your behaviour since their stepmother came into the picture. Although you risk losing the respect of your children, for the spineless man this is a minuscule price to pay.

After all, having someone to mother you is more important than your relationship with your children. – By ROSE YASMIN KARIM

MAMA'S BIRTHDAY

2007-05-11T12:41:00.000+08:00

It is almost a tradition in our family now, these midnight birthday parties. First there was Huzaifah’s birthday in August last year. Quite grandios with lights off and the big shout out 'SURPRISE', superman cake, balloons, presents and all. Still confined within the family though.

Then each of the March babies, Muaz, Umair, KT and Ammar. Due to financial constraints we managed to buy a discounted half cake from Strudels for each of them, discount courtesy of good ole Johan. The cake i must say is one of the most delicious ever..it’s shaped like a pyramid and it is so finger lickin’ good.

Then there's the May babies, Amira and Mariam. We had a nice family affair at my sister Nani’s house. 12 midnight again, we had a cake blowing session and some makan-makan pizza. The next day was Mariam’s birthday, but even the birthday girl couldn’t keep her eyes open. But she had a big do at the hockey stadium with her hockey mates from school and St John’s after their training session that evening. All of us went, umair arrived just on time for the table cleaning session..poor fella. But that’s what you get if you are late, right?

But the most looked forward to birthday is the grand Matriarch’s birthday, our wonderful MAMA, the kids lovely TOK.
I brought the cake, Nani the murtabak, and we gathered at Nani’s house again for the midnight celebration..gosh it’s almost like an occult. Mama was all set for bed after making sure everything was spick and span and was quite surprised and perturbed to see us at the door since the next day was a school day. But all of us “buat bodoh” ..we went in leaving the cake on the shoe cupboard to be sneaked in later. It was 15 minutes to midnight when we arrived. Huzaifah with his innocent face mumbled Happy Birthday, Tok, as he walked into the house. Everyone stopped short in their tracks and glared at him..and he glared back ..and mouthed "What", we glared at him even harder..hoping that that would shut him up somehow, but he glared back. Then he ran to Mama and gave her a hug around her middle and said in his manja voice Happy Birthday, TOK!! Everyone went ..alaaaaaa..there goes the surprise!!! Mama’s face immediately lit up...”ooooo..laaaa..i was wondering why Nani bought so many murtabak..i was going to keep them in the fridge but it was still too hot..so i just left it on the table.” She was so delighted and touched. I could almost see tears in her eyes. I suppose at that age, simple things like family gatherings and appreciations like this mean a lot to her.
KT brought in the cake and placed it on the dining table. “That’s my cake,” Muaz cried. I want candles. Kt began putting the candles on the cake. “That’s not your cake Muaz..it’s tok’s birthday, not yours," she said.
“No! it’s Muaz cake!! Muaz caaake!”
“Okay okay, muaz’s cake ok?,” the tok said.
“Alaa tok”, KT said.
“KT, he is still small..it’s ok”
KT pulled a face at MUaz and Muaz glared at her.
“Spoilt brat” she mumbled.
We gathered around and sang Happy Birthday..and when mom blew the candles..muaz screamed..”Noooo muaz birthday” Mama stopped, we told her to ignore him and carry on..she carried on to blow her candles and we all clapped. Meanwhile, Muaz slipped down from the chair and ran into Adeil’s room and screamed “Muaz birthday..muaz birthday..” So we lit the candles again, dragged him out of the room..and sang him a birthday song and let him blow the candles.
Peace was once again restored. We sat chatted and later Umair called from Cyber to wish Mama, that made her so very da very happy.
Now that we have reached this age, we realise what a wonderful Mom Mama has been. What a great and perfect family we came from. Mama is a mother with such a big heart that she just give and give to her children. She has always been very careful with what she says because she is well aware that what ever she says is a supplication, which Allah will grant. No matter how we hurt her, she will only pray for the best. She is truly the epitome of love itself.
I saw her staring blankly into space..a far away place where perhaps her memories are kept safely to be replayed in her own time. I know at times like this she misses Babah. They were such a loving couple and Babah being taken away so abruptly like that, really broke her. On her birthdays , Babah without fail would buy her something special, be it a diamond ring, a bracelet or watch or anything that he knew she fancied. I grew up believing that the men folks’ task was to spoil their other half ...with gifts and love. How wrong i was.
Mama used to be so full of life, heading the Wanita UMNO in Penang, being the examplary headmistress, giving all she could to society and helping anyone who requested her help in the area of education. But joy has been grabbed from her when Babah passed on. She decided to confine herself to the house venturing out only when necessary.
But I am glad my sister and I can be around her now. My children and Nani's keep her company, Muaz being her favourite.
Mama is all I have now. It’s her arms i run into when i am down. Her lap that i rest my head on when my burden gets too heavy. She has always been there, with all faculties ready to help anyone of us. God alone knows how afraid I am of losing her as i see her age every day.

My sister..

2007-05-02T10:44:00.000+08:00

“Why are you so fat, now?” my sister jested. “You don’t want to slim down aa”.
I know I have put on a lot of weight. I can't wear most of my office attire now..and can't afford to buy anymore. So I have resorted to wearing the good old faithful baju kurung.

“Can’t help it..I am happy la.”

“Not a nice way to celebrate happiness, is it..being fat..” My sister quipped.

Now the annoyance set in, mainly triggered by guilt of course..of not watching what I eat and not exercising as I should.

I had to come up with something...hmmm

“There was a time when we didn’t have enough to even have a proper meal. I can’t keep coming to you to ask for help..I know you will never deny us, but i also know you had your own problems too..and I have seven, ok.” I began..

“Do you know that we used to go eat at the Mamak shop and really tawakkal. I would tell the kids..ok..now we have only enough for half a roti canai each, ok. Let us make doa that Allah will make this sufficient for us, ok, that this will be filling enough for us and will give us enough energy to carry on. Be thankful that we do have food. Don't worry, this is temporary..things are going to get better..trust me.."

Now that was what we used to go through during the first few months ..

Now I can afford the simple pleasures of buying good food, why not..
What better way to show gratitude than to eat what is there, what I like. We used to look at chocolates and salivate, and it used to break my heart when the little ones ask for some and I couldn’t afford any. And of course la, we share la what we have with those who don’t."

Now that was almost a full discourse ...giggle.

My sister pouted with a glint in her eyes..which said, "Excuses, excuses" written all over it.

Looking back, I realised we have come a long way from those days when I almost lost my self esteem and all my dreams. I was just living from day to day. All I knew was I had to live for my children. I was so fortunate to have my mother, my sister and my brother who were always there for me. My sister especially, never failed to inspire me. When i was down, she would tug me from the ever demolishing state of self pity. She has been a pillar of strength and never once has she ever denied me her help. I also am so blessed with friends who were ever ready to help. In fact I need not ask, they sensed and they held out their hands. All these people offered whatever they had, their ears, their shoulders to be wet by my tears, while others emptied their purses to help put my feet back firmly on the ground, they made sure that i could stand on my own. They saw my transformation into someone different, not very amiable at times, but they never deserted me. These friendships, some forged so long ago, when I was growing up and studying locally and overseas, while others when i first started working, have been my CPR at the most critical of times..

During these trying times, I saw that pure hearts are simply pure hearts. It need not be cloaked in any form of dress code. They transcend race, faith and every other criteria which man created to categorise the human race. It simply shines through sincere acts of compassion and kindness. And you can see it gleam even in the darkest of rooms.

I just hope that I will be able to return the same favour to someone in need, one day. If I can come out of this..anyone can. They just need some firm push from sincere hearts,like i was lucky enough to have.

Now time to figure out how to get back into those office attire...

all white bean..

2007-04-27T12:53:00.000+08:00

It was the day where Tuanku Mizan Zainal Abidin, the Sultan of Terengganu was installed as the 13th Yang Dipertuan Agong.
And being the patriotic lot..we all decided to celebrate by watching a movie.
We all came to a consensus that this time, it shall be Mr Bean’s Holiday..cliche as it may sound. The comedy was mediocre at best. To top it off we had to sit right up front since all the other seats were taken given it was a holiday. But what is so enduring about Mr Bean is the fact that he can always find cheer in every mishap. No matter how ridiculous, how terrible, how trapped he may be, he will always find a light side to it. It's the classic case of “if life throw you lemons, make lemonades", and life throws loads of lemons..doesn’t it..

I just wish, there’s more colour to the cast, instead of all whites. Come to think of it, Mr Bean's cast has always been predominantly, if not all; white..ever wonder why?

PROVOKED

2007-04-26T18:49:00.000+08:00

“PROVOKED” is a definite must watch, if anything else because Aishwarya Rai is the epitome of beauty with such powerful acting skills. Even if you watch this movie for that reason, you will be able to bring home with you some very important lessons and insights on domestic violence, at the end of the movie.

Provoked to me shows the multifaceted universal face of domestic violence. Wherever it rears its head, it would be the same ugly face, the elements which separates one case from the other would merely be the cast, circumstances and the scene.

The infliction, the remorse, the apology, the special treatments afterwards and the whole process rotates like a viscious circle, grinding the victim deeper and deeper into depression; to a point where she will be immobilised into a state of helplessness.

Domestic violence has this uncanny capacity of making the victim feel absolutely trapped in an invisible cage, completely incapable of escape. It would take mammoth strength to outsmart this mental cage.

If this grinding goes on long enough, the victim will eventually snap. This “snapping” would manifest itself in various ways. As in the film “provoked”, In Kiranjit’s case it manifested itself in the form of her dousing her husband’s feet with gasoline and setting it on fire, while he was asleep. For others it may be in the form of taking an overdose of some pill or the other. In the case of the latter, the victim may feel that her existence is worthless and the children, if any ,would be better off with the spouse, because that would have been grilled into her mind over and over again throughout the years of abuse. This act is actually a silent cry for help, which in the case of our Eastern setting, where protecting the family name and honour is placed high in our life priorities, often misunderstood and frowned upon, penalised, even.

What touched me most was the scene when Kiranjit was asked how she was treated in prison and how she felt, the words which poured out from her lips, as if in a trance, was, "I feel..free..” It just goes to show the kind of torture she has been enduring and how trapped she was throughout her married life.

In prison, Kiranjit managed to learn to speak, read and write in good English. She abandoned her kurta and traditional attire for a more modern one. She also trimmed her tresses, an act she hesitated except after persuasion from her prison mates. This shows the need for the victim to express her liberation in some drastic manner. Perhaps in the form of a completely different wardrobe, a drastic hair cut or getting involved in a special cause for her to fight. This form of emotional catharsis is an absolute must for the individual to ensure that she remain sane before she can reach an equilibrium again.

Perhaps this story could help us understand better our friends who have gone through the same pain. Instead of berating her or castigating her into isolation, be there for her, because after hiding so much for so long, crying out for help would be a new skill she would need to acquire. And unless we want her to be a lone sheep which will fall prey to the hungry wolves out there, we should try our best to show that we care.

Here is a link to an interview with the real Kiranjit Ahluwahlia.

http://www.stophonourkillings.com/index.php?name=News&file=article&sid=1490

WHY SOME PEOPLE BOTHER

2007-04-17T10:49:00.000+08:00

Can someone please explain to me how they collected and verify these figures? Why people bother just mind boggles me..Published in the NST 18-4-2007

http://www.nst.com.my/NST/Article/vArt?did=20070418072039

Malaysians rank sixth fastest in love-making

KUALA LUMPUR: Malaysians spend an average of 19.9 minutes when they make love.
Hardly the stuff romance novels are made of, they ranked sixth quickest in the world in terms of time spent in a love-making session.

However, if it’s any consolation, the average time spent is above the global average of 18.3 minutes.

India’s lovers were the world’s quickest, spending only 13.2 minutes per session.

Nigeria once again topped the ranking on a leisurely 23 minutes.
Singapore, Hong Kong, Japan, Thailand and Australia were all well below the world average time.

Malaysians were just a heartbeat ahead of China’s lovers who took 20 minutes.

This was the findings from the "Global Sexual Wellbeing Survey" by condom-maker Durex. It was revealed at the ongoing World Congress on Sexual Health in Sydney, Australia.

More than 26,000 people from 26 countries were screened online by global research firm Harris Interactive from August to September last year.

Durex’s local distributor SSL Healthcare Malaysia general manager Voong King Yee said sex played a fundamental role in the physical and emotional well-being of a person.

The survey found two in five (or 38 per cent) of the 1,026 Malaysians polled were fully satisfied with their sex lives.

Forty per cent of Malaysian women were completely satisfied compared with 37 per cent of their male counterparts.

Want to know how you can spice things up?

"Seven in 10 (74 per cent) of the Malaysians surveyed said the situation could be remedied by injecting some old-fashioned love, tenderness, adventure and romance.

"Two-thirds (64 per cent) like more intimacy and better communication with their partners," said Voong.

Even in the "country of romance", France, they do not get it right all the time. Only 25 per cent said they were satisfied with their sex lives.

Nigerians, on the other hand, know something others don’t. They have the most people (67 per cent) satisfied with their sex lives, followed by Mexicans (63 per cent) and Indians (61 per cent).

The survey found that Malaysians have sex 115 times a year compared with the global average of 103.

The Greeks made an Olympian effort of 164 times, with Brazilians the next most amorous at 145, followed by the Poles and Russians (both 143) and Indians with 130.

The survey also found that Asians were least satisfied with their sex lives.

Australia’s Bond University sex expert Gabrielle Morrissey said it reflected cultural issues relating to sex in Asia. "Work is more important than sex in many Asian countries."

TEACHERS TEACHERS

2007-04-15T13:06:00.000+08:00

“My student. She got 5As..” mom said..so what’s so great about that, I thought..I got 5As too, mom was emotional but not this emotional...

Mom used to be the Headmistress of the oldest National school in Penang, or is it Malaysia, SK Sungai Gelugor. I am not sure. At the time, the students comprised of kids from the nearby Gelugor Village and they were generally from the lower income group.

Mom was so devoted to her vocation as a teacher. Given the demographics, at the time, it was difficult to get even one student who could achieve 5A’s from that school. The school would rejoice if they had 2 students achieving 5 As. How could that be achievable when some of them couldn't even read when they reached standard six. But mom never used demographics as an excuse. Where ever she went, she needed to give her best.

I remember the first thing mom set out to do was to gather her teachers. Long before teachers were required to go to school on saturdays, she already lined up dedicated teachers to set up remedial classes,. They and she were in school every weekend, not just on Saturdays, but Sundays as well, without fail; doing up flash cards way before Glen Dorman and Montessori came to our shores. I used to be so jealous because she was hardly home. I felt she loved her students and teachers more than me. Think about it, I came all the way home from Sydney and she was still spending her weekends in school. Sometimes, I would hear her complain to my Dad her closest confidant about her woes, about how she wished she could do more, about how some teachers were not committed enough. But she had a few, who were all the way behind her. The great thing was they were multiracial, and the kids in the school were 99% malays. They did not require any racial unity reforms to get them to give all they've got to these low income malay kids. Simply, because their hearts were in teaching.

This girl, couldn’t read until she was in standard four. That’s what so special about this case. She could not read!! One year before her exams she was illiterate. Her mother was hardly at home, because she was a single mother earning a living working as a factory girl in one of the free trade zone factories in Bayan Lepas. She also had a second job apparently. When you think about it, a normal person would think that this girl doesn't stand a chance to change her life and that of her family. But she was lucky, her school was her refuge, her teachers and headmistress were her foster parents. They encouraged her and nurtured her, not giving up on her in spite of her handicap. What she was deprived of at home, she found in school, her second home. Even food was provided, I remember mom organising something for the poor kids; something relating to food.

A lot of tears was shed when the girl's mother came to see my mom that day. Apparently she cried thanking mom profusely.. because they cared enough, not to give up on her daughter. Mom cried too, and when my sister and I heard the story in the car, we cried too. To mom, that was gift enough for all her sweat and toil and for her efforts cajouling teachers to support her cause . This happened more than twenty years ago. I still shed tears of pride when i think about this episode. I am so blessed to have a mom like that. And my mom was so lucky to have dad who always supported her every effort.

Sek Keb Sungai Gelugor, became quite famous thereafter. Lecturers from the nearby Universiti Sains Malaysia began to send their children there too, when previously everyone tried hard to send their kids to La Salle and Convent Green Lane…I don’t know what has become of that school now though..

When I visited mom, who is 73 this year, she couldn’t remember any of this anymore. She said she didn’t do it to get recognition. To her that was just an investment for her hereafter.

So, where are teachers of that calibre now. Can you find any? I know there are a few but they are certainly very hard to come by, and I bet it would be quite tough for them to gain support.

These teachers did not ask the girl to stand in the hot sun because she couldn't pay her school fees. They helped her out, I remember mom working hard to help kids who couldn't pay school fees by collecting money among her teachers and other parents. Do you ever wonder what would have happened to this child, if she had gone to school in this era...because I certainly do..

2007-03-21T23:50:00.000+08:00

Reading my mate's blogs, made me so envious of them. Take for example Ashraf’s www.mindspring.wordpress.com or Kay Own’s http://kayown.blogspot.com/. They seem so profound, fraught with such brilliant ideas, humourous jokes, and intelligent opinions, while mine is so airy fairy. And I haven’t seen the others. So I made a resolution which I hope will last. Unlike my lifelong attempt of making new year's resolutions which never lasted for more than a few weeks. I resolved that I am going to read the news every day. So read the news I did. But I found that I skipped all the columns and pages on politics and went straight to Opinions or Life and Times. Well at least it is a great improvement from going straight to the entertainment column. Baby steps, I told myself, baby steps.

So last Sunday as I was browsing through my favourite portion of the Sunday Paper, Opinions, amidst such motivating and amazing features and opinions on interesting, informative and beneficial matters like About capturing history on film, and about providing better working conditions to our men and women in blue, I chanced upon this article.

It just stood apart from all the other columns I had read. In short I found it simply braggadocian. It just perturbs me if our nation is eventually going to be led by leaders who came from snooty upper class as so clearly painted in this column. Ok, I admit, hands down, I am covetous of such a lifestyle. I am angry at myself that I cannot provide such luxury to my beloved children. But my personal insane womanly kiasu envy aside, let’s all pause and think for a second. How an article glorifying and bragging such privileged lifestyle, inherited by birth, not through hard work, or intellectual capacity, do any good to the nation as a whole?

How can a leader who has had such priveleged upbringing, who can shop for the latest techno gadget in Tokyo feel for lesser people who never had a chance to watch Astro, or even know the existence of PS1 or 2, let alone PS3 or PSP. How can he feel and fight for the poor farmers and the blue collar or even white collar workers who will be expected to vote for him come election day. What cause would he champion? Those already wealthy “entrepreneur” who will suck the nation dry, so that the rich will be richer, and they can spend all the money they earn here, overseas? to buy all their electronic paraphernalia in Tokyo, perhaps?

. Who will champion the cause of single mothers whose children’s sustenance are never being paid, who has to work twice or three times as hard to be recognized, who end up paying hefty legal bills just to keep their children who they have been supporting for years single handed anyway. Who will champion the cause of youths who have done wrong, but wish for a second chance to improve their lives by going back to school but do not have the means to do so?

With leaders like that, What is to become of our father land, I wonder.

Link to article
>

Out of the cage: My mother, the techno whiz-kid

18 Mar 2007
Khairy Jamaluddin

OUR family had a birthday dinner a couple of nights back. It was the best kind of family birthday dinner.

Just the immediate clan, three generations eating chocolate cake, banoffee pie and Thai food.

When the presents were finally unwrapped, the birthday girl was beaming from ear to ear. She was not surprised with her gifts, but rather the delight was merely a confirmation of getting what she wanted.

First to have its wrapper torn off was a black Bose SoundDock for her to blast the music on her iPod anywhere in the house — loud enough to play out by the pool and small enough to carry downstairs for her dancing classes on Sundays with her buddies.

The next present, which she was already anticipating, was a 7.2 megapixel Lumix camera with a 28mm wide-angle Leica lens (she insisted on a model with the Leica enhancement) in matte black and loaded with a 2GB memory card — in time for her to take on her 10-day trip to New Zealand next week, again with her buddies.

It wasn’t any of my sisters’ birthday, neither was it my wife’s. And my nieces are both too young to appreciate techno toys.

No, the proud recipient of the stuff that would make most tech-savvy guys jealous was my mother, who just turned 72.

We were all going to get her presents that we thought a septuagenarian would like, but it turns out we were mistaken.

We should have known better.

My mother has been at the cutting edge of technology usage for quite some time.

When I was a small boy growing up in Tokyo, she used to take me to the electronics district in Akihabara every other week looking at all the latest gadgets and gizmos that early 1980s Japanese innovation was throwing up.

Those were the days of the first Walkman and full-sized, remote controlled (but not wireless) R2D2s.

Without having to ask, she got me my first video game console — the Atari — on which I learnt hand-eye co-ordination and timing, especially by playing Jungle King, which I thought at the time was the greatest game invented and certain never to be bettered.

She followed that up by buying me my first PC, with roman alphabets and the basic hiragana Japanese characters on the keyboard for me to attempt to learn word processing.

This was followed by a whole host of Nintendo hardware, including both the game console and the portable games with Donkey Kong throwing down barrels at you to jump over.

When I first went off to boarding school, she would snail mail her letters, but as soon as they became affordable, she got a facsimile machine at home from which she would fax her weekly messages to me.

At university, when most people were still figuring out how to navigate around the world wide web, we began communicating via email (she was an early Jaring subscriber) and quickly learnt how to add attachments and links.

She was the first one I knew who bought a flat panel LCD TV (she knew exactly which one she wanted and she knew she didn’t want plasma).

She surfs the Internet regularly, either directly or getting her secretary to print out her favourite websites, which oddly include blogs that vilify her son.

Although a late adopter, she has become an SMS fiend ever since my wife showed her how predictive text worked, rattling off quick messages throughout the day.

She now carries the Nokia E70, which flips out a full QWERTY thumb-board for her oxymoronic long SMSes.

I have seen people stare at this elderly Malay lady in a selendang, typing away furiously on her specialist phone.

Sometimes when she is at a function which I could not attend, she would snap a photo on her phone and MMS over the (sometimes incriminating) image to me. Nobody ever suspects my mother of being James Bond.

She is relentless in her desire to want to learn and keep up to date.

When we bought her the iPod, we thought that she would reach her breaking point. After a while, surely, the old timers just give up learning about the latest fad.

We couldn’t imagine her loading up songs on her iTunes and sorting out her playlists. Clearly we were wrong.

I checked her iPod recently and was surprised to find her favourites — Hetty Koes Endang, Broery Marantika, Elvis Presley, Nat King Cole — all neatly organised in her "Mama iPod Playlist".

Of course, later I found out that she didn’t really do it herself but asked one of my sisters to load up her music player.

She has reached a stage where she knows she can master all gadgets she fancies, but is content to let other people sweat away at the thankless job of downloading and uploading songs.

Still, I wouldn’t put it past her to start downloading songs on her computer (legally, hopefully) and insisting on an iPod adapter for her car stereo.

She saw me using my BlackBerry the other day and wondered out loud if she should also get one — this is usually a cue for me to go and buy her the device.

Sometimes, the technology has traction with her (iPod) and sometimes it fails her tech test (Nokia Communicator). But she hasn’t been afraid to try.

My generation was already born in the electronics age. My mother was born before World War Two, way before modern communications technology.

Electricity in Alor Star in those days was generated from the river by the Hutten Bucks company.

For our generation, the change has been tremendous, but when compared to the advances that my mother has seen in her lifetime it must seem glacial.

It amazes me that she continues to try and stay ahead of the curve. This is an example of life-long curiosity in how things make our lives easier and more enjoyable.

On her birthday, I prayed for her good health so that she will one day enjoy movie on-demand from the classic Shaw Brothers library streamed directly into her handheld device via mobile broadband while making a conference call with her grandchildren over seamless internet telephony.

When these services become available, you can be certain Mama will be among the first to sign up

NEW WORD FOR THE DAY- FILICIDE

2007-03-11T12:16:00.000+08:00

The article below from The New Straits Times touched me immensely. Suicide- filicide, u name it, I think we all should ponder on why this seems to be such a common occurrence of late. Such incidences were almost unheard of when family closeness was a norm and not an exception and members of a particular community look out for one another, regardless of race, colour or belief. Yes, you may hear about the occasional suicide, but filicide? God forbid.

Whatever happened to us?

We are emotional creatures. All these problems stem from emotional upheavals. Stress from the everyday demands of this modern life – Living beyond one’s means, Ah Long, husband’s affair with another woman, and the list goes on.

Whatever happened to our spirituality and moral values. Almost all faiths abhor suicide. Has spirituality taken a back seat, materialism now is the God for a majority of us.

Meanwhile, the importance of support cannot be stressed enough. Yes the PM just launched a counselling campaign- but how thorough is that. Would counseling be enough when it only grazes the surface. Counselling should come from the heart. How can an attempt such as this be a success when we are generally raised within a culture where judging people and isolating people who are different from us, is the norm. At the end of the day, for any measure to be successful, it should be founded on the genuine intention to help fellow humans and not just to sweep problems under the carpet and embellish them with what seem like impressive but in truth are hollow programs.

After all the prophet p.b.u.h. once said:

"Actions are (judged) by motives (niyyah), so each man will have what he intended…”

___________________________________________________________

Kathirasen on Sunday: The heart weeps but the mind is thankful

25 Feb 2007
Kathirasen

HOW could she? O my God! It’s horrible! These were among the exclamations that burst through the lips of relatives and friends last week.

They were agonising over the death of two children. Every death is tragic but this tragedy was made more unbearable by the news that their own mother was said to have strangled them.
And it came so soon after the case of a man who strangled his two children before committing suicide.
It is incomprehensible. Why would a mother want to kill her children? Why would a father snatch away the life that he helped bring into the world?
How could they do it? I’m sure when the mother strangled her sleeping children — one at a time — they must have awakened as they struggled for breath.
Their terrified eyes would have met her eyes. Perhaps, as the life was being squeezed out of them, they were trying to fathom the reason for their mother’s madness. Or perhaps the shock of it suffocated any attempt at thinking.
And what was passing in the mind of the mother?
Only days earlier, on Feb 14, jobless Lee Thian Sing strangled May Shan, 10, and Wei Shen, 9, before taking his own life by drinking bleach and washing liquid.
It happened in the daytime. They would have been awake as he murdered them. Did they struggle? Did their bodies convulse in contortions as they writhed in agonising disbelief? What terrified thoughts tumbled through their innocent minds as the hands that had comforted them were now wringing the life out of them?
Lee left a note saying he did it because he did not want his children ending up as failures like him.
His moment of madness is believed to have come about shortly after a tiff with his wife.
On Feb 22, labourer M. Murthy, 29, was charged at the Klang magistrate’s court with murdering his two-year-old son Ruthren in January. The child is said to have been beaten and kicked to death.
On Dec 1 last year, Seah Wong Chong and Kau Mei Lin fed rat poison to their children Siew Cheung, 12, Siew Man, 10, and Siew Tong.
The children died but the couple was reported to have failed in their attempt to take their own lives. They said harassment by loan sharks drove them to it.
Last July, K. Sangeetha, 30, collected her four children and stood in front of a Singapore-bound express train. Her eldest daughter, Victoria, 8, managed to wriggle free and run, taking her five-year-old brother Jason with her. But Sangeetha and daughters Sagaria and Esther were killed.
Killing of a child by a parent. It’s called filicide.
Cases such as that involving Lee are classified by psychiatrists as "altruistic filicide" because the parent thinks he is actually saving his children from real or imagined suffering by killing them. Studies in the West show that the majority of filicide-suicides are "altruistic".
It was reported that the mother who allegedly killed her two children in Penang did so because she was angry with her husband for wanting to take a second wife. Psychiatrists call this "spouse revenge filicide". It’s an old theme.
Those who have read about Jason and his quest for the Golden Fleece would be familiar with queen Medea. When Jason abandoned her for a princess, she killed their two children to spite him.
Martha Ann Johnson of the United States, who wanted to get at her husband after an argument, rolled all 250 pounds (114kg) of her weight on her daughter while she slept. Johnson was convicted of killing her daughter on Feb 21, 1982.
What triggers the horrendous act? What makes such parents snap? Psychiatrists usually blame it on stress and pressure. Behavioural scientists hold that violent behaviour has no single cause but is the result of an accumulation of factors, including childhood experiences.
Neuroscientists may conclude that a breakdown in communication between the limbic system of the brain and the frontal cortex could have caused emotional information to be incorrectly processed. Or they might point to a possible malfunction of the amygdala, that tiny almond-shaped mass of grey matter where fear and aggression arise.
It may be that even the perpetrators of this atrocity would be unable to say what drove them to this instant of insanity.
What is clear is that we who hear about it are shocked. We are horrified. And that, I think, is good.
Because it means that such incidences are rare; because if they were an everyday affair or even a frequent occurrence, our hearts would have become numb to them. We would not be shocked.
When I see that for every mother who suffocates her child, for every father who kills his child, there are millions more who don’t, my faith in parents is restored. The vast majority take reasonable care of their children; many shower love and affection.
While my heart weeps for the children who were killed, my mind is thankful that these are but instances of aberrant behaviour.

Children belong in families, which, ideally, serve as a sanctuary and a cushion from the world at large. Parents belong to society and are a part of that greater world. Sometimes parents are a channel to the larger society, sometimes they are a shield from it. Ideally they act as filters, guiding their children and teaching them to avoid the tempting trash. — Louise Hart

2007-01-15T11:03:00.000+08:00

Yesterday as I was driving home with KT in our good old faithful, Kt pointed out to the car which I just overtook. “Oh My God, Ummi. Pity the lady driving that car”
“Why?”, I asked her. The car wasn't too grand or fancy, but most certainly more grandios and definitely fancier than the one we were in. "She is crying like crazy, ummi. She looks so bad, poor thing." "Where?" I asked KT. "There just behind us, in the right lane". Being the busy body as all humans are..I slowed down.."Slow down, ummi” “ Oh No Ummi, I am so sorry for her...do you think someone died?"
"Perhaps..", i trailed off. We came to a traffic light but I never managed to actually look at the lady but I can picture her like a big screen tv on my windshield. My hair stood on its ends. Past emotions, sights, smells just overtook me as I remembered how I used to be that woman, on this very road. How my solitude in the car was an opportunity for me to pour out my frustrations, scream and speak to God aloud, and ask Him, "Why me?". Why must He bring my marriage to an end, why He ravaged the one thing that I valued most, way above my ambitions, way above everything. I remembered, how Allah put that small voice in me which said, "Be patient..you will see why. It is because He loves you. He loves you and has a lot more stashed away for you..He just wants to see how patient you are…you’ll see." " How can that be" I asked Him back. "I do not want this. I do not want you to show your love to me this way..Love me like you love everyone else..those you gave wealth, happiness perfect families!" "I have something much better for you”, the voice would come back..I wanted to believe that voice, but at the time, it just did not seem plausible. But oh..the conundrum of life…He has all the answers…and from me at the time, the answer He wanted was merely “Patience”
Patience is certainly a virtue which I have not achieved, but regardless how impatient I was and am, who am I to fight The Omnipotent..Like it or not, I had to accept what He has destined for me. Looking back, I feel like it was similar to those first few days in school when Mom told me, she had to leave me alone in school, she won't be waiting in the canteen because she had to go teach in her school. I used to cry and throw tantrums, but she still left me, just so that I learn to be independent, learn to be a girl instead of a baby and later a woman, instead of a girl. Similarly, that was what He was doing to me. It was painful, but the fruits are sweet..bitter sweet, like the best Durians you can find in town. Now, I love every minute of my life.
I wake up every morning with a purpose. Just quoting one blessing is enough to sum up the cornerstone of my happiness right now..the peaceful faces of my sleeping boys..and their cute protests when I wake them up to go to school is enough to make me thank Him that I am still alive and able to do good and repent for another day. Instead of being all tensed up and screaming in anger in an attempt get them ready in fear, I laugh at their antics, and they always eventually relent ..and when they step out of the car into their school grounds, they go with a zest rather than all deflated after their esteem has been stampeded all over by angry parents.
I felt warm water flowing down my nostrils ( i know ewww) and then i realised the tears on my cheeks. My tears were for 2 reasons..Firstly, for the wrongs I have done to my elder babies, my impatience and stress simply because I had no inner peace, and I was too caught up in trying to please others. And secondly for the girl in the car. I feel some form of solidarity, a strong bond, linking me to her…fellow sisters on this earth, trying to decipher what God has in store for us. I wish i could reach out to her, hug her and tell her..listen to that small voice in your heart. Go back to God..He really have something better for you..I know you don't believe me now..but one day not far from now, you will understand what i am saying. I love you dear sister..and God Almighty Loves you..and who can beat that love!!

ANOTHER EID

2006-11-26T21:55:00.000+08:00

Ramadhan came and went..and so did Hari Raya Aidilfitri..the wonderful Eid. I decided not to take any cookie orders because i wanted to drink the wonderful blessings of Ramadhan and not battle away baking during the last few nights of the Beautiful Month. Even though those who went to the mosque were not welcoming, but God's house opens its doors and arms to us..and it was wonderful nestling in the Cradle and warmth of its arms again...In spite of that, He provided as He promised..for He never breaks His promise..We had a wonderful time as a family, I managed to earn enough to buy each of you new clothes. And nice ones too. We even managed to go back home to Penang and had a grand time in a long long time. We made your grandmother extremely happy, we visited my auntie Na..and her family..these are the only family left for my children and me. And the best part was my sister went home too..so it was a grand family get together.
Closer to home, it was a pretty isolated Raya for us. Neighbours did open houses but we were not invited for any one of them, but hey it doesn’t matter..I didn’t open my house, so why should they open their houses to my family. I know that even if you all said it is okay, it hurts inside..it is okay..really..always be sure that there is always something to learn from all these..you just have to be patient. Normally lessons we can learn are not discernable in an instant, such is God's ways..but i must say that the most obvious is ..if you ever do one in the future..open house, or any form of invitation..never isolate anyone..especially those who appear to be lesser than you..
My friend once told me..don’t look at Islam from the way the Muslims react..always turn to God .
But of course..where else can you turn..everything belongs to Him..we live from His ever infinite Mercy and Grace the One and only God. But my dear friend..what is faith if it has no followers. It is the followers that carry the integrity of the faith..people cannot see the manifestation of the faith unless it is practiced by us humans, hence where else can you look, for the merits of a faith if not at the followers. I am not the best of followers, but we should always strive to be..baby steps, one at a time..and always remember He can always change our hearts. So pray that He keeps our heart on the right path..regardless. Many people will applaud at our isolation, my dear children..but it is ok, because it is not they who judge us in the end. We just do our best, and always be thankful for everything that He has given us..remember, so much has changed for the better and only He deserve the credit for that..

Be thankful that you don't already have everything you desire.
If you did, what would there be to look forward to?
Be thankful when you don't know something,
for it gives you the opportunity to learn.

Be thankful for the difficult times. During those times you grow.
Be thankful for your limitations,
because they give you opportunities for improvement.
Be thankful for each new challenge,
because it will build your strength and character.

Be thankful for your mistakes. They will teach you valuable lessons.
Be thankful when you're tired and weary,
because it means you've made a difference.

It's easy to be thankful for the good things.
A life of rich fulfillment comes to those who
are also thankful for the setbacks.
Gratitude can turn a negative into a positive.
Find a way to be thankful for your troubles,
and they can become your blessings.

Author unknown.

Don't let the noise of others' opinions drown out your own inner voice

2006-07-12T15:06:00.000+08:00

A couple of days ago was an exciting day for me. I didn't realise my blog on "My bestfriend's birthday" could stir up such scorn among certain individuals in such a manner which i never intended in the first place. I thought..wow..an occassion to write eventually..as if Allah Almighty has decided to grant me time to write again..so dare I argue with Him...
I just feel obligated to clarify that I have been brought up in a family where forgiveness is a forte, respected and loved. After all, God promises a gargantuan manor in the hereafter when one forgives. My parents are loving and forgiving people. Besides that, I was also raised in a family where peace and love is of greatest value. Never pick a fight with people. If people pick a fight with you...let it go..let God take care of it, Babah would say.
Hence my "My bestfriend's birthday" posting was an attempt to lay it down in writing, that Regardless of my eventual decision to jump ship, the responsibility of raising the beautiful souls we brought to this earth can be shouldered by both parties, the mom( me) and the dad (kids' dad)in a positive manner in the spirit of forgiveness and peace. My marriage with the children's dad is HISTORY, regardless of how hard he stamps his feet and bang the ground and contest the 'lafaz'..in spirit..the matrimony is null and void..non existent..kaput..zilch. While,I am using all my efforts and resources to ensure that this goes thru legally. But it doesn't mean we can't rise above our personal puny self indulgences and silly pride and be honourable enough to keep our friendship intact for the sakes of the children. But then again, on second thoughts, i know i have risen above that, so those who want to stay down, kindly stay out of my realm..

Initially, I was rather foolishly disturbed when I was accused of "Gila Talak" due to my posting..that I had to call my ever faithful Sounding Board brother to just get his opinion on whether i sound like i was pining for my X. Bro, your reply.."dicey..." made me jump out of my skin..i couldn't get hold of the puter then..so i was like as the malay saying goes "mother cat in labour"..because that was not my intention at all. I needed to get my hands on my blog..i needed to read it again..and eventually when i did..phew!!! It didn't sound like that at all..but then again, yes..any writings can be open to innumerous amount of interpretation..there isalways 360 ways to look at anything..
Hence as much as my blog is my domain, my realm, my RIGHT to express myself, to create a legacy for my babies; it IS also the right of my audience to form their assumptions and interpretations on it. Critique is ALWAYS good.

Regardless of whose toes i step on, nothing will stop me from writing what i feel and conveying whatever message i wish to. Life has never been better, Praise Allah we are still standing tall..intact as a family..provided generously by God.
So if you want to read this..swallow it..
Once read..if it isn't palatable..spit it out..
There's always the comments button to press if you have anything worthy to say..but then again, REMEMBER?..this is MY DOMAIN..i choose what i want to read or publish.

Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life. Don't
be trapped by dogma ? which is living with the results of other people's
thinking. Don't let the noise of others' opinions drown out your own inner
voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and
intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become.
Everything else is secondary.
~Excert from the Commencement address by Steve Jobs, CEO of Apple
Computer and of Pixar Animation Studios,
delivered on June 12, 2005.~

ONE OF MY CANDLES HAVE BEEN BLOWN OUT

2006-02-11T11:24:00.000+08:00

There are friends whom you meet every day of your life, or who are around you all the time. You bump into them all the time, as if they are permanent features of your life tapestry. There are friends whom you meet so ocassionally, that there are pockets of time when they just slip off your memory bank. But there are friends whom you hardly see, maybe once a year if you are lucky, but remain etched in your memory and carved out in your heart and form invisible pillars in your life, who help prop you up when you are down. Throughout my adversity, I am blessed with friends like that. One stand out, because, she was a mere acquaintance, a good friend of my sister's and almost a daughter to my parents, but she pushed the doors to my heart, and became my friend when i was really down and almost completely out. When i had nothing, when i was scraping for daily bread and many whom i thought were friends left me, but she came, and loan me her hand and her shoulder to cry on. She cried for me, when many whom i thought were friends clapped at my saga. She embraced me tightly and told me that she cared and her prayers are always with me and that God is Great and He loves me. She stayed by my side and just chatted with me. And once in a while, my phone would ring and i would here that cheerful, "Hi Kak Shaki, How are you Kak?". And she would spend hours of her precious time talking and chatting to me on her handphone, even if it was a long distance call. But I will not be blessed with that call anymore. Yesterday at noon, Erni was called back to Allah. Throughout my pain and sorrow, i could feel her presence. Erni had her own adversity. She had brain tumour, but she was so full of life. She made me feel so comfortable just telling her what i feel, without her judging me, or making me feel small. She made me forget that she was in a worse predicament than i was, when i was about to lose the custodianship of my children, she was about to lose her life, and her children were about to lose her permanently, but she loan me her ears and her wisdom helped me get through that calamity. What would i do withour you, Erni. And i was unable to even be by your side, or even go and visit you before you were returned to God's earth where we all came from. Little do you know that those calls i got, were those which i looked forward to, those which gave me back my zest for life and my faith in truth and justice. I will not get those calls again; ever. I have no gift left for you, Erni, but my prayers. And my prayers for your children and your ever faithful husband, may Allah grant them strength. And I love you more than any words can say. May Allah convey this message to you. May Allah grant me strength and light, for one of my candles have already been blown out.

A good scare is worth more to a man than good advice

2006-01-24T19:46:00.000+08:00

"A good scare is worth more to a man than good advice."

– Edgar Watson Howe

Todays quote certainly ring true. A past experience looms up before me tugging at the corners of my memory bank which i have locked up not wishing to peer into again. Nonetheless, to look back and be thankful for the growth that i have experienced due to what seemed at that time as a horribly bad experience, i believe is a risk worth taking.

There was a time when i was wallowing in self pity, stuck in a rut, not being able to move giving practically every other excuse i can pluck out of thin air to stay put in a complete state of decadence.Sound stupid? I know, but it happens.

There was once a time in my life when I was very unhappy in a polygamous marriage. After devoting my entire life, ambition and career to my husband and family, I was incapable...no...completely unwilling to move, or unable (no refuse) to make a decision on where i should head in my life. Allah sent me so many good advice from well meaning friends and family to either bear with the situation and keep smiling or get out and stop complaining. On top of that He provided me with ready shoulders whenever i needed to cry on, yet i was still stuck unable (no refusing) to move..until one day...

It was a Valentine's eve, and it was promised that my other half was supposed to spend the night with me. We were supposed to have Valentine's dinner together at midnight, but as my gut feeling told me, and as always with these special ocassions, he changed the plans. He was to return to the other home by 11pm, as my heart bled profusely, my face muscles forced a smile, it was my duty to obey and make him happy. I was already having a fever that evening, but i strived to carry out my daily chores and ensure that dinner was ready for my brood of 7 lovely children. My husband and i left for dinner and i tried to push all bad feelings to the back of my brains and tried to make the best of what i had..by 10.30pm i was despatched home, by then, i was so tired i could not drag myself upstairs to my bedroom, so i laid down on the sofa in the living room. I just watched as my children went back and forth up and down and i almost dozed off. Then i felt pin pricks in my left and right toe..i thought..well it must be my temparature..i left it at that. In a short while the pricks seemed to be climbing up to my ankle and it besieged my entire feet..i started to feel rather worried, but i thought never mind..perhaps it was just blood circulation. So i tried to move my feet in circles, i noticed i had to put quite a bit of an effort and they didn't move as much as i wanted them to. In half an hour my feet were numb and the pin pricks have traveled up to my knees..my feet were motionless..now i began to panic..i summoned my two sons to help me rotate my legs and feet for blood to circulate and they did it so diligently which was so unlike my boys..but the pricks kept travelling up..and i kept losing my ability to move along the path which they traveled..when it reached my chest...i thought i was going to die and i really panicked. So did my children..and they were all crying..i was completely helpless and all i could do was watch them because even talking was a task ..i wanted to grab each and everyone of them and tell them how much i love them and how blessed i am with them and how sorry i am for all the horrible things i have said to them in my anger and pain and sorrow and depression and how unfair i have been to them and how sorry i am for not being able to provide them with a perfect childhood like i had and for being such a failure as a wife that their father had to seek someone else's love and how i admitted that all these blunders were entirely mine..but at that point..it seemed worthless..only my eyes could speak and i hoped that they understood what i was trying to say. They managed to contact my husband and with the help of my sons and my sister I was brought to the nearest hospital..my pulse was so low, the pulse monitor kept going off..this was when it all dawned upon me..
IF I WERE TO GO NOW..WHAT HAVE I DONE WITH MY LIFE...38 YEARS SEEMED SO SHORT..WHAT AM I GOING TO SAY BEFORE THE ALMIGHTY GOD..HE GAVE ME ALL THE ABILITY TO MOVE..HE POINTED CHOICES TO ME ..TO MAKE SOMETHING OUT OF MY LIFE..AND WHAT DID I CHOOSE..WHAT HAVE I CONTRIBUTED TO MAKE THIS WORLD A BETTER PLACE..I HAVE NOT EVEN CARRIED OUT MY RESPONSIBILITY AS A MOTHER PROPERLY..OH GOD..PLEASE GIVE ME ONE MORE CHANCE..

At that particular point, i resolved that if God Almighty gave me a SECOND chance, i will not let my life go to waste again. I will live my life to the full and make sure i leave a legacy behind for my descendants..and my mission started at that very moment. When everyone was asleep, i prayed and tried to move my fingers and toes..and i prayed and i cried to God..and i would fall asleep, sweating and panting, trying..how was i going to raise my babies in my condition like this..i needed to fight..and God is great and truly gracious and merciful, by the third day i could make a miniscule movement with my index finger..and He enveloped me with courage and hope..and that was what that kept me going.And my movement grew stronger and stronger and i learned to sitlike a baby again, stand and walk like a toddler. It was as if God was giving me a second life to live..reduce myself to a helpless baby and grow from there..all fresh and new..

This scare that He gave me was really much much more than the good advice which He sent me..and it paved my way to being who i am today. And I believe it is my mission to help those who are now stuck in a rut like i was, to start moving, hopefully without having to go through the PARALYSING shock i went through. And may He give me strength and wisdom to fulfill my mission.

TODAY I AM THANKFUL FOR BEING ABLE TO MOVE WITHOUT HAVING TO THINK ABOUT WHICH MUSCLE TO CONCENTRATE ON TO MANIFEST THE MOVEMENT THAT I WANTED. I AM THANKFUL FOR BEING ABLE TO BREATHE WITHOUT HAVING TO CONCENTRATE ON MY LUNGS AND WITHOUT HAVING TO STICK THE OXYGEN TUBE UP MY NOSTRILS. I AM THANKFUL FOR BEING ABLE TO GO TO THE TOILET ON MY OWN AND TO CLEANSE MYSELF ON MY OWN. FOR THOSE GIFTS ARE TRULY PRICELESS. IF GOD DECIDES TO TAKE THESE ABILITIES BACK, NO WEALTH NOR MONEY IN THE WORLD WILL BE ABLE TO BUY THEM BACK FOR US.

THANK YOU ALLAH, YOU TRULY ARE THE MOST GRACIOUS AND THE MOST MERCIFUL
THANK YOU ALLAH FOR BEING THERE FOR ME WHEN I CRIED AND PRAYED IN THE HDU WHILE EVERYONE ELSE SLEPT. THANK YOU ALLAH FOR GIVING ME ANOTHER DAY TO REPENT AND TO MAKE GOOD WHAT I HAD DONE WRONG BEFORE YOU CALL ME TO YOUR SIDE. THANK YOU A THOUSAND MILLION TIMES THANK YOU.

And this also came into my email box today
THERE ALWAYS REMAINS AN OPPORTUNITY TO MAKE A NEW START.

Though it may not seem so when you first encounter a serious blow, you can never lose two of the most important assets you have. These are the power of your mind and your freedom to use it. Once you have turned them to understanding what laid you low, you can begin forming new plans. You may not have the money you once had; you may lack the allies you had cultivated. But you still have the benefit of a universe that eventually rewards honest effort, as well as gaining the experience of mistakes you will never make again. Remember, no matter where you are now, whatever you can conceive and believe, you can achieve.

Hmmm..i see a message from the divine here..somewhere..:-) perasan...

TODAY IS MY BEST FRIEND'S BIRTHDAY

2006-01-21T21:14:00.000+08:00

As the clock struck 12 this morning, it was the first 21st January which i was not anxious to be sure that i did not forget to wish a dear friend, happy birthday. I would have, but i realise that doing so would make this friend uncomfortable. It is a moment i have strived not to miss for the past 20 odd years of my life, though i must confess that i have, for at least 2 years, actually. Sorry dear friend, but you have had your fair share of misses too.
I am actually inundated with translation work today as i have been every day and night since the dawn of 2006, praise God Almighty for his blessings, but i must set aside everything and take this opportunity to pay tribute to my dearest friend on his 41st birthday.

Your children truly miss you and we all celebrated your birthday in your absence in our own way. You are their father and without you they know they will not be on this earth. There was a time, when i saw one of our children rummaging through our store room under the staircase and I was about to give one of my commando lung emptying holler because i knew things would be strewn across the store room floor and i wasn't ready to clear up the storeroom again, when this son of ours came out with a chequered sarung in his hands, looking rather flustered with embarassment...yours. I pretended not to notice, I just told him, please make sure you close the door behind you because i don't want the cat to go in and do its business there. Ok ummi, came his answer as usual. I was wondering what he was going to do with it, because he has his own sarung for prayers, perhaps, he couldn't find it...that's normal..Being so unlike me, i just let the matter rest...and forgot about it.

That night, as is my practice everynight since i became a single mother, i made my rounds to make sure everyone has gone to bed when they are supposed to, and all lights are turned out and all the dirty laundry collected. In our son's room, i was spectator to the most touching sight, our 15 year old son, who is now on the threshold of being a man, was sleeping like a baby, with your sarung as his blanket. The blanket on his bed, neatly folded on the floor next to the bed. I smoothened the sarong over him, and stroked his hair as tears welled up in my eyes. I know he misses you and they all love and respect you. It is my promise to you, that you will never be forgotten. You live in them, your blood is pumped in their veins. There were so many happy memories we had together. We will preserve this in our memory and all the misgivings and shortcomings will be strewn into the ocean. They will always respect and love you, regardless, because you have given them the gift of life. I promise to always give excuses for things you are unable to fulfill because you are only human, and only God can fulfill all needs. Even separated, we will still function as parents complementing one another for the sake of these 7 beautiful souls we have brought on to this earth. Every special ocassion, be it your birthday, our wedding anniversary, their birthdays, the eid and every other public holiday you will be remembered, and to them you are present, in spirit,as they have come to realise that you may not be able to be there in person. And in each and everyone of this ocassion, we have prayed and will pray for your happiness and prosperity, because we know prosperity lies very close to your heart. May every single thing that you need be given to you. May you find the happiness that you have set out to seek. May your life be good, here and in the hereafter

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAREST FRIEND.

I WANTED TO CHANGE THE WORLD

2006-01-20T14:43:00.000+08:00

I miss writing in this blog so much, but i am so overwhelmed right now. There's the bread butter and jam to earn, there's the laundry to be done ( the never ending story), the brood to feed, the house to keep, the toilets and bathroom to clean, the tutorial responsibilities, and the army commando duties of screaming my lungs out to be done. So can we all just settle with things i picked out from the net, ie from my email..so here goes.
This is a little like me, you know..kinda relate to it.

I Wanted To Change The World
By Unknown Monk, 1100 A.D.

When I was a young man, I wanted to change the world.

I found it was difficult to change the world, so I tried to change my nation.

When I found I couldn't change the nation, I began to focus on my town. I couldn't change the town and as an older man, I tried to change my family.

Now, as an old man, I realize the only thing I can change is myself, and suddenly I realize that if long ago I had changed myself, I could have made an impact on my family. My family and I could have made an impact on our town. Their impact could have changed the nation and I could indeed have changed the world.

Sent to you as a courtesy of...
http://www.AsAManThinketh.net

BTW..A wonderful woman and friend visited me earlier today..Rachel..she is truly the epitome of strength and wisdom..if you read this, Moby, i want you to know that you really are the most wonderful person i know, through all the adversities, you shine through like a beacon, and i love you. Thank you for being a friend, even though in terms of social standing we are miles apart. :-)

With Every Breath

2006-01-17T16:51:00.000+08:00

With every breath I take today,
I vow to be awake;

And every step I take,
I vow to take with a grateful heart--

So I may see with eyes of love
into the hearts of all I meet,

To ease their burden when I can
And touch them with a smile of peace

So many things to be thankful for

2006-01-16T16:28:00.000+08:00

Though no one can go back and make a brand new start, anyone can start from now and make a brand new ending.

Author Unknown

I have really been wanting to blog, but praise God Almighty, He has blessed me with so much work. Time to keep focused. Alhamdulillah, may i have enough to send my baby boys to the kindergarten i have in mind. In the mean time, I have to yet split myself into another person. Yes, I have made my mistakes with my children, but we all can start making a brand new ending, Insya Allah.

CAN YOU IMAGINE MY DAY?

2006-01-14T09:56:00.000+08:00

Being a single mother of seven, can you imagine my day? Let me just enlighten you. There's the bread to earn to feed my brood of seven, i still have to eat to be able to carry on taking care of them. There's the clothes to wash, hang and when they are dried collected and folded. And if it rains the need to rush out and pick them up and put them aside until the sun shows up again and the sky ceases to shed tears. There's the house to clean. The food to prepare to feed them. And I have to send them to and from school/work. There's also the janatorial responsibilities and the weekly cleaning up of the house, the mopping etc.I tried to get the children to help, but they are also so busy with their extra curricullar activities and their homework. And they need to study..And I just don't have the energy nor the spirit to pick fights with them. I am the mother, i am also the father. It gets tiring, sooo tiring, but i always remember the story my father used to tell me as he was driving me back from school some 30 odd years ago.
We would see this friend of his who would ride his ramshackled bicycle along Hamilton Road in Penang going towards the flats, i can't even begin to recall what the flats are called(am i getting that old?) He would say, "Look at him, that's my friend, he's so hardworking. My friend only travels on his bicycle because he spends all his money to send his sons to England to read medicine." And i used to think..what would we do if we were put in this situation..Ten years later, as I was driving him instead, along the same road, we saw the same scene re-enacted..but this time, the man on the same ramshackled bicycle was grey and weary..his speed was slower, more taxing,and as he pushed one leg down on the paddle his body moved swayed forward, as if to help give the drive to propel his bike forward..My dad said, " See him, my friend, he has two sons who are now successful doctors, and he lives with one of them in a big bungalow, yet he is still riding his old bicycle." He went on to tell me about how humble his friend's sons are and how they contribute to the poor by offering free clinic sessions and how his friend still cycle just to bring himself back down to earth so that he will not forget his roots. His efforts are paid in full. God is Great, and He'll never short change you.
As I am typing this, my tears just kept pouring, because i miss my father so much. He has departed some 5 years ago, yet his silent wisdom and his patience still live within me. He was a great Dad, he was silent most of the time, he spoke only when necessary, he never exhibited his love with physical gestures, that sometimes we all took him for granted, until we lost him. Then we realised it wasn't his words, but the energy of LOVE that was eminating from his being which kept all of us together, huddled together in a warm and fuzzy surrounding, in the embrace of his LOVE, and when he went, we're all left cold and groping, even mom, infact, even more so Mom. I miss him so much.We all do..
Well back to my day, and my struggles, i guess I am giving all i've got, slogging day and night for my children's education, just like dad's friend. And I believe Allah will not shortchange me. He is Just and one day I will look back and say, I haven't done a bad job after all. But i don't have an old bicycle to ride..maybe i will just go for a walk..

Making This Decision Wasn't Easy

2006-01-13T00:51:00.000+08:00

Deciding on embarking on a totally new ship, much much less comfortable, to navigate through life wasn't an easy decision to make, my dear children. I weighed the pros and cons for a long while, and my concern has always and will always remain the same, while i am still breathing, your well being. But all those years I failed to see that by staying in a marriage where the love and respect was one sided was not a healthy image for all you precious beings to emulate, yes I realised that it was the right thing to do, to love unconditionally, but i forgot that i was showing you not to love yourselves first. You need to love yourselves first, darlings, before you can love others. It took mammoth strength for me to pry myself (and yourselves) away from what seemed like financial comfort, in order to gain emotional and spiritual peace. It was truly a difficult decision. But decide, i did. I picked all of you up from a cruise ship, quite luxurious, but very emotionally taxing, and plonked all of you on a horribly delapidated barge, with only the winds to cool us, and boy, does it get cold sometimes. No more cuisine, just basic food :-), not served but we need to find. So here we are, on our barge, after begging borrowing and 'stealing' to get on this vehicle, we are heading towards our dream island. One year on, we are getting closer to our destination. We know, we can count on God Almighty, and we definitely have to count on one another. Together we are healing, and I hope this brave decision shall be my legacy to all of you and to all your children and their children... that you sometimes need to take the plunge. Together we will learn to grow again, there will be storms, and we will face these calamities by huddling against one another to keep each other warm and safe. Maybe one day, no SURELY one day, you will see your mother write as a successful person, helping other people who are in our predicament, to take a less comfortable vehicle, and we will try to make it less painful for them, cos we've been there and done that.
Please know, that inspite of everything, you are everything to me, and I will do anything to make your lives better...the best..and you all are brilliant..never forget that.