Thursday, December 17, 2009

.: 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 :.


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

Sunday, December 13, 2009

.: 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

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

.: Imminent periphery :.

A struggle. 

There had been times when I debated with myself on the subject of adoption.
  • What goes on a child's mind when he was given away at such a young age?
  • What goes on a child's mind when his biological parents reappear and try to claim their rights over him? 
  • What goes on a child's mind when he has to make the choice between his adoptive parents or his biological parents? 
Meanwhile, the subject of inter-racial, inter-religion, inter-country adoption raises another subject, and by knowing a handful of people who are either adopted or adoptive parents, made me mull over this time and time again. 

When one is engaged in a court battle against the biological parent, wherein both sides are placing their foot firmly on the ground, what are the concealed turmoils felt by both parents? 

"He wants to be with us."

May God be with you. 
9.56pm Malaysian Time

.: Bear hug :.

Awarded by ...

Dearest Mina gave me this award. 

Thank you so much sweetheart! 

I pass this on to everyone else. ^^

Thanks again sis! ^^
9.37pm Malaysian Time

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

.: Reappearance :.

Hi everyone.

Nearly 2 months since I posted anything here. I can't say the itch to blog has died down as I'm still blogging rapidly in my private space, and on regular intervals I will try to make it a point to post painstaking entries in my Chinese blog. Call it a quirk of fate if you must, but I just didn't have the impulse to write anything here.

To rub salt into the wound, I haven't been reading and commenting on blogs either! I shudder the thought of opening my RSS Reader and seeing thousands of unread posts beckoning me to read every single piece! 

Cutting a long story short, in the end, one needs to face this sooner or later. Alhamdulillah, the jive have sort of returned, and Insha'Allah I'll start picking up where I left off. 

A standing ovation to the readers.
9.45pm Malaysian Time