.: Crimson tide :.

Years have passed.

But there are some things that can't be forgotten ...

Are you sure you are a Muslim? You don't wear the hijab. You don't know how to read the Qur'an. You spend more time with the disbelievers. Do you still think you are a Muslim?

At the tender age of 10, one starts to question ...

What is a Muslim?

What is Islam?

Who is God?

And embarks on a journey to find the truth.

7.17am Malaysian Time

.: Melancholy breeze :.

The way of love.

Whether one believes in a religion or not, and whether one believes in rebirth or not, there isn't anyone who doesn't appreciate kindness and compassion.

The Dalai Lama

A brand new day.

2.38am Malaysian Time

.: Paradoxical paralysis :.

Lesson 3.

We were going to have dinner when I saw some beggars begging for alms at the roadside. They wore tattered clothing, held a chipped rice bowl and there was so much sorrow in their eyes.

No one stopped to offer any alms. No one stopped to offer a kind word. No one stopped at all.

Everyone was too concerned in their affairs that they didn’t take the slightest notice of these beggars.

It was a painful and pitiful sight.

----------------------------

A few years ago, I was at an eatery with a friend. He tried to stop me from looking at the cleaners but I was too stubborn to listen. That was when I saw the cleaner eating food left by the patrons. At that time all I thought of doing was to buy her food or offer her some money. However, my friend stopped me saying it will only bring more shame to the lady. I felt disgusted at myself for comfortably having good food while another person had to eat leftover scraps. I was terribly disturbed by this.

----------------------------

For ever so long have I been blinded and shielded from acknowledging the sufferings of others. Seeing these people and the situation they are in, reopened my eyes, my heart and mind to the cold realities of life. This time around, I chose not to push it all aside. 

Alhamdulillah, God must have wanted to give me a chance to redeem myself.

Starting right here in China. 

11.55pm Malaysian Time

.: اسم :.

What is in a name?

I mentioned that my Arabic [Egyptian] teacher mentioned to the class that my name is an old Egyptian name.

Hence it got me pondering a bit. My name was given to me by my siblings. Big brother simply loved the story of Siti Hajar [Hagar] and Ismail [Ishmael] Alaihi wa Salam. Sis followed along with him. Besides, how cool is it to be able to name your sibling? I didn’t get that chance and the family never expected me to make a last minute entry into the family tree either.

Therefore:

• When you name someone, do you have a certain criteria that you have/want to fulfill?
• Is it based on the meaning?
• Is it based on the origins of the name; the history behind it?
• What does your name mean and how symbolic is it to you?
• Will you change it if you have a choice? And to what?

Happy 2010. ^^

1.53pm Malaysian Time

.: Awal Muharram :.

Zulhijjah 30 1430.

Personal Image - Hajj 2007/2008

Water that's poured inside will sink the boat
While water underneath keeps it afloat.
Driving wealth from his heart to keep it pure
King Solomon prefered the title 'Poor':
That sealed jar in the stormy sea out there
Floats on the waves because it's full of air,
When you've the air of dervishood inside
You'll float above the world and there abide.

Rumi, Book 1 Masnavi

 بسم الله الرحمن الرحيم

On this day, I wish everyone a blessed Muharram. Let us begin the year with a resolution to deepen our faith and increase our commitments towards Him in hope of becoming a better person. May Allah S.W.T bless you and your loved ones.

Sempena awal Muharram, sama-samalah kita tingkatkan lagi usaha kita untuk menjadi muslimin dan muslimah yang beriman, bertaqwa dan berakhlak mulia. Semoga usaha kita diberkati olehnya.

إن شاء الله

Insha'Allah. :)

8.56am Malaysian Time

.: Bygone lane :.

Photobook.

Every year my youngest uncle will prepare a family Eid photobook. Carefully selected photographs i.e. singular or family portraits, family gatherings, family houses, candid shots etc. adorn the pages. He started this tradition along with his personalized family Eid DVDs about 3 years ago in his attempt to create a keepsake for the family, and passing it on to future generations. 

On Eid Adha, he brought the photobook. My uncle is known to have a flair in capturing embarrassing images. Gritting my teeth, I flipped through the pages and squirmed at the photos. *it wasn't as bad as last years' ~pheww* 

The final leafs had old photos of unfamiliar faces. 

Mum :: As a city child, you are not exposed to the life of a kampung community. In those days, we regard our neighbors as our extended family. The concern then was sharing our happiness and sadness with each other, regardless whether you're a Malay, Chinese or Indian.

*Kampung = village

Mum is quite right. Life in the city, with its endless hustle and bustle leaves little importance in instilling neighborliness. 

Ask yourself ...

• How many of us know the difficulties our neighbors go through?
• How many of us know the names of every single member in our neighbors' family?
• How many of us speak to our neighbors on a daily basis?

When I talk to my neighbors in KL, they will say; "I knew your grandparents / know your parents."

I hope there will come a day when their kids  will say the exact thing to me too.

Thursday morning.

8.18am Malaysian Time

.: Wanton story :.

A post dedicated to my dad.

Mum made me help her in the kitchen. I guess I was about 7. At that age I was too young to know how deadly a chopper can be. I practically sliced off my nail and made a run to sis asking for some tissue papers to wrap my injured finger. Sis suffered a panic attack when she saw the nail dangling with bits of skin attached to it. Mum, upon hearing the commotion developed her own rendition. Needless to say, the neighbors must had thought someone just died.

Apparently the experience wasn't traumatizing enough as I still hung around the kitchen. Mum  vigilantly kept the chopper and knives away from me, therefore my chances of ever becoming a chopper wielding samurai eventually went down the garbage chute. She did recruit me in other areas like peeling the skin off the prawns. It was certainly a task I despised the most.

Anyway, many years down the road aunt brought me to her kitchen. I actually set the pot on fire. It wasn't intentional, nor was I mimicking a demented, retarded profile. It just happened. The blazing fire almost reached the ceilings. Thankfully I had some logical sense to put out the fire using kitchen towels. Everyone was just glad a) I was safe and b) I didn't burn down the house.

Then there were the countless times when I tried my hand in cooking. No doubt I scored 80% and above in presentation, but when it came to the taste test some of the things weren't even fit to be dog food. Yet, dad never complain. Not even once. What dad did was, he bravely scooped up the garbage, flung it into his mouth, and chewed every single morsel. I knew some of the things tasted horrible, rancid, and totally out of this world in a negative sense, but dad always ended things with;

"It's good because you have tried your best at making it. However, I know you can become better, and this is truly not your best yet."

For many years have I cursed myself for making my dad eat my garbage. Each time I cursed myself, dad repeated his encouraging words. It just made me all the more adamant to determine I do not feed my dad any more garbage.

Subsequently things began to change. The food became edible. The most incredible part was mum and aunts began to request recipes and food from me. For this to happen, I owe the ladies in my family for teaching me the cooking sense.

And dad, I owe you for never giving up on me.

Dad :: My mum used to make this. How did you manage?

Me :: I got the recipe from someone, but I did some adjustments. I didn't know grandma used to make it.

Dad :: But it tastes exactly the same. :)
Me :: Years of making you eat garbage, I should have developed a sense of knowing a thing or two on what suits your tastebuds along with knowing what you really have a penchant for. I am your daughter. :)

Thanks dad. ^^

12.45am Malaysian Time