The Petite Chilli

Pilgrimage to the Holy Land

2011-11-25T01:23:00.000-08:00

Before the Calling

My sister Ashikin came back from her Haj pilgrimage in early 2000 and said to me: Your name has been mentioned…I made a special request for Allah to invite you to His House”. Oh, Okay I thought…did not mean much to me then, though I was aware of it being one of the obligatory practices for a Muslim. My husband and I had registered a few years ago, putting in some preliminary funds as a start, without any particular plans.
Years rolled by and we were regularly sending off friends and family members to Mecca and hearing great anecdotes of their experiences which aroused our interest and curiosity, but still we did not actively pursue it. Somehow, a couple of years ago, we suddenly had the urge to go. It was exciting to discover that our turn would come in 2011.

The Journey Began
In 2010 we were invited to attend seminars organized by Tabung Haji , the agency which is responsible for the Malaysian Hajj Pilgrimage Funding and Operations. However, both of us had work and family commitments which prevented us from attending these sessions. When we received the same invitation in early 2011, we did not miss the chance. It all began with attending two to three hour lectures on the Hajj practices at the Kelana Jaya Tabung Haji mosque every Sunday for 17 consecutive weeks. This seminar culminated with a two-day forum at the Shah Alam Blue Mosque which included simulation exercises with a mock Kaa’bah and all the other facilities and requirements in Mecca, Mena & Arafah.

Though all the classes were helpful, there were things we were not really prepared for in the actual exercise. We scrambled to find out more in order to be better equipped. Time flew a bit too fast for us. Before we knew it, it was time to fly. We had so many people giving us advice for the logistics – some say don’t bring much; some say be prepared for everything; some say you don’t need to change your clothes too often ; some say you would not have time for shopping; some say go out and buy everything you need there; and the list goes on. Although we can be classified as seasoned travelers, the mixed messages confused us anyway and we ended up taking some not so sensible advice. But, eventually it did not do much harm – we somehow adapted.

Arriving in Madinah Al Munawwarah
Our first stop was at Madinah Al Munawarrah. We were there for eight days. The first time I prayed at the Prophet’s Mosque, Masjid Nabawi was unforgettable. I was not even thinking of anything in particular. In fact I was feeling a mixture of jet lagged, mental fatigued and lethargy, looking around at the whole place with almost detached emotions as I went through the motion of preparing for the Zohor prayers. But somehow when I started praying, I was overwhelmed with such an enormous feeling of peace and tranquility, I began to cry and could not stop. I had to struggle to prevent the tears from interfering with my recital of the verses in my prayers. Until today, I cannot explain what moved me so much, so fast. This beautiful mosque will remain in a special place in my heart and I pray to Allah that He will grant me a chance to pray in the Prophet’s mosque, time and time again.

Places of Interest
When we were in Madinah we also had the opportunity to visit the famous Uhud Mountains, the holy burial sites of the martyrs of Islam during the days of the prophet, the magnificient Quba Mosque which is located at the site of first mosque the Prophet built with the Ansar clan when he first arrived in Madinah and a few other interesting places.
It is such an amazing experience to look at barren rocks ,hills and desert tracks where the prophet and his companions used to take. And the stories they would be able to tell, if only we can get them to talk.

The First Sight of the Holy Kaa’ba
I don’t think I can ever describe accurately how I felt at the first sight of Kaaba. When you think about it, the Kaa’ba is just a cube-shaped structure measuring an area of over 600 square feet. But the significance of this divine infrastructure is beyond human understanding. How can you describe the way billions are drawn to it every year and for most of us, just at the sight of it can invoke tears of awe, joy, gratitude, harmony , peace, bliss, humility and all the incredible feelings only something related to the divine can incite.

The Experience of Praying in the Grand Mosque
I treasured every single opportunity to pray at the Grand Mosque of AlHaram. During prayer times, the mosque was full to the brim especially closer to the Hajj period, but we always found a place to pray. This is where we meet people from all over the world and for me it was eye-opening and enriching because we saw a perspective of people and their beliefs and inclinations which are different although we are all Muslims. Our favourite spot were normally in the hallway of the second floor, between the pillars and walls close to the King Fahd’s Gate. No matter where we pray, my husband and I made it a ritual to move closer to the Kaa’ba after our prayers. We were automatically drawn to it like a magnet. We end up gazing at this monumental structure with immense feeling of gratitude and love and pray to Allah for all the things that were in our hearts – for the wellbeing of our loved ones – parents, children, siblings, friends and even for the organizations we work for and our country and religion.

Times at Arafah and Mena
Spending a period of time in the mountain area of Arafah is a must-do for the Hajj pilgrims. This marks the place where Adam and Eve were reunited after being separated for two hundred years. This is where we can pray and get closer to the Almighty within the stipulated period and pray for meaningful things which matter most to us. The following nights were spent at Muzaliffah where we stopped to gather pebbles for the “Three Jamrah Throwing” in Mena. These pebble- throwing rituals symbolize our fight against the quest of Satan whose main aim is to divert us from the right path.

Completing the Hajj
To accomplish the Hajj, we had to complete seven rounds of the circumambulation of the Kaa’ba or “Tawaf” . Before doing the tawaf I was worried sick of how I could cope with the crowd and the jostling and pushing but when we were inside, things was not as bad as I had perceived it to be.

Next we followed the tracks made by Hajar, wife of Prophet Ibrahim from the hills of Sofa to Marwah in search of water for her baby Ismail. All in all, we get pretty good exercise once they are all done. People who are not physically fit have the option to be ushered in wheel chairs, so these activities are pretty inclusive.

Winding Down
The next few days we could relax a bit, do some shopping and get souvenirs for people back home. Flying back through the city of Jeddah was unforgettable. We had to wait close to eight hours just to board the plane and airport officials did not feel any necessity to be concerned with the wellbeing of people , even ill or disabled passengers. But we did not allow this experience to spoil our beautiful journey. And truly, for me the journey to the Holy Land was unique - it was transformative, to the extent of which I can barely comprehend what is going on but the little I know of it is that it is close to soul-cleansing, Alhamdulillah.

TURKMENISTAN, LAND OF STARK BEAUTY AND HOPE

2011-04-03T01:26:00.000-07:00

Before the Trip

I had a working stint in Turkmenistan for almost ten days. When I tell family members and friends about going there, I was shocked that so many never knew the country even exist. These were some of the responses…”Took Me What??? Where in the world is that? How do you spell it, I cannot find it on the Internet? What …stan again? Are you sure there’s such a place?”

I asked them to look it up on Wikipedia and other google sites. Turkmenistan, formerly part of USSR, is now one of the richest country in Eastern Europe in terms of natural resources. The country is bordered by four nations, Afghanistan, Iran, Kazakhstan and Uzbekhistan.

Almost like Home

The best part of it is that Turkmenistan and Malaysia enjoy a special relationship. It is primarily through the relentless efforts of the two nations’ former premiers – Mahathir Muhammad and Turkmenistan’s former president. These two charismatic leaders shared similar aspirations and visions for the country and the people of their respective states. When you first see Ashgabat the capital city, you will find it a haunting replica of Putrajaya. Both are modeled on the illustrious Russian City of St Petersburg. The dome-shaped roof tops, austere white buildings, cobbled walking paths and even the street lights are almost exact copies. Well, that made us ( Irhan , Fathi & I) feel at home even though the sight of police personnel ala KGB agents from James Bond movies we encountered with, every 100 meters gave us some jitters.

Picturesque Backdrop

But elsewhere, the stark beauty of Turkmenistan made it memorable for me, like no other place I have visited before. I was particularly mesmerized by the snow- clad mountains viewed from the plane before we landed. The scenery was so beautiful, it took my breath away. I felt so blessed to be alive to see another one of God’s Masterpieces. I could imagine these magnificent mountains weaved with historical paths and tracks made by conquerors the likes of Genghiz Khan, Alexander the Great, Attila the Hun, Ivan the Terrible or was it the Horrible; if only these mass of rocks and terrains could speak, imagine the stories they would tell!

Even though I did not have the opportunity to visit museums and palaces which I would have loved to, I managed to look at pictures and art pieces depicting legends and folklore and speak to people who could spin a tale or two about them. One cannot help feel that this place must be rich with culture and history.

More than a Job

Our work took us to another town, Turkmenbashi which is an hour away by flight. This is Turkmenistan’s “Pot of Gold” . The small town is located close to the Caspian Sea and is bustling with activities which tap into the country’s Oil and Gas resources. This is the location of PETRONAS’ business hub and although the infrastructure is still in its infantile stage, and the whole area requires major development works, the place is brimming with potential. Even in the peak of winter where the frost and the wind blowing from the coldest part of the continent have the tendency to make you want to curl up in bed and cry your heart out for home, PETRONAS staff – local Turkmens or Malaysians are still looking bright. They go about their work with happy, contented faces as if the foul weather is no reason to be gloomy. I applaud them!

The food for me, was another story. I am not into meat and chicken, and the hotel does not provide fish or seafood for meals, so I survived only on bread, salad and eggs. Pretty good deal if the salad each day was varied and protein like nuts and legumes could have been included, but I had no such luck.

What Went Well

It was not that bad really. A PETRONAS staff from Kuala Lumpur with a heart the size of Asia and Europe put together invited us to his home for a sumptious lunch on our first Sunday. God bless him & his wonderful wife! Some friends took us out a couple of nights for some good food; once to a Floating Restaurant where I got to eat fish and the second time to a PETRONAS campsite. Eating at the campsite dining hall created a nostalgic effect. On the way to the hall, the tantalizing aroma of “mamak” curry beckoned us. On a cold winter night, having had no spicy food for more than ten days, that hit us like the voice of Lorelei to seafarers.

Anyway the trip was extremely meaningful for me. The people we encountered made it worthwhile. They were sweet and welcoming and were learners par excellence. They made us feel like we have contributed to their personal enhancement and managed to add value to their lives. That’s all my pals and I were hoping for anyway. That we have made the journey that far, not only to just do a job but to extend our services to people in the hope of making a difference in their lives and in the process learn more about life too.

LEGACY OF LOVE

2010-12-29T20:54:00.000-08:00

The Parents I know
When I think about my parents I realize that I don’t really know much about them, beyond what I remember from my childhood …bits and pieces of memory; not exactly superficial but not enough to enable me to write a good story about them, what more a memoir.

About Mother
My mother’s name is Majmin binti Aboo Bakar. Funnily, her name appears differently in a few different identification documents. I don’t know whether the fault lies with the authorities who were in charge of generating the details on paper, or with us who should have been more cautious and should have taken greater responsibility when receiving or verifying the documents.

Her ID stated that my mother was born in Sungai Gelugor, Penang on 21 September 1923. Her father, Aboo Bakar bin Zainal Abidin was a clerk with the government department. During that period this position was considered pretty important among the small community in Sungai Gelugor. Her mother Che Chik @ Aishah, a home maker was the only daughter of a highly respected couple, Tajudin and Zubaidah.

Her Childhood
From the formative years, her maternal grandmother was a key influence in my mother’s live. Her mother died when she was twelve, and her father remarried soon after. Her grandmother, Zubaidah then took over the caring of her late daughter’s children . Word has it that this lady had a dominant character, and was a powerful yet caring matriarch not only within her immediate family circle, but was renowned beyond that sphere. Apart from being a doting mother, she spent most of her life taking care of nephews and nieces, grandchildren, siblings, and ailing relatives whom she chose to adopt when they are in need of special care. Most were said to have passed away peacefully after years of tender care – and practically everybody was considered a relation.

Her Marriage
My mother married my father Yusoff, at the age of 14; a special arrangement made by her grandmother who was also a skilled matchmaker, among her many talents. The age factor did not become a legal issue then. My father was only 20. People reached maturity faster when times are tough…I believe.

My Father
Coincidently, my father Yusoff was born in 27 September 1916 in the same house in Sungai Gelugor. They were distant cousins. When he was still a child, his father Haji Hassan bin Abu Bakar moved over with his family to the Northern State of Kedah to take up the post of a teacher in Alor Star. His mother Rathuan binti Yong Mohamad Said was believed to be related to the old Perak Royal family. She died in childbirth when my father was very young. In 1950, his father died leaving him with a step mother and young siblings to care for, apart from his own five children.

His early years
My father spent most of his youth in the district of Seberang Perak in Kedah and after completing his secondary education started work in the postal service. When he had to retire early due to a very serious ailment, he brought the family to settle in Penang. The house in Bukit Gelugor where we all grew up in is filled with a vast collection of memories - some tearful, a few terrifying instances, many hilarious moments but mostly happy ones – for me, at least.

The LOVE between them
Their love story began only after their marriage. And to this day, I will never forget how much love there was between my parents though there were quarrels and complaints. When I was still a teenager, after hearing the incessant grumblings my mother would shower on my father, I asked him once how he could continue to take it. He looked at me calmly and said, no one knows the wonderful things she has done for him…giving birth to his fourteen children, taking care of all of us and him as well. He owes her so much and can never repay her for all the things she has done and been to him. Her crabby complaints are harmless – just her way of releasing stress. Back then, being both a a hot and hard- headed teenager that I was, it did not mean much to me. But now, when I recall those words again, I cannot help the tears …what a truly, lovely man...I LOVE YOU BAPAK!

2010-08-29T01:22:00.000-07:00

What Ramadhan Means To Me

The act of fasting
I love Ramadhan not because I enjoy fasting that much. To be honest, I am not that good at it. I get cranky when I am hungry on normal days, but in Ramadhan, I can take it just... a little bit better. And what I find trying, is the thirst and the dry- mouth effect. I suppose that’s part of the whole cleansing exercise – body and soul.

Memories of Ramadhan gone by
What I love about it is the nostalgic memories of childhood fasting Ramadhan brings with it. I remember the times we got up for the pre-dawn meal or “sahur” which was hilarious. It was a chore waking up my brothers for sahur especially De (pronounced as Dare) & Dat. You pull their blankets off, they will curl up in a ball; you make as much noise as possible, and they are not affected at all – it is as if they are not in the same world. Last trick is sprinkling water; even that would not work with De . He will just wipe his face on the bed sheet and doze off again.

The final strategy is to drag him to the dining table. For this, it required precision and great teamwork. Although he did not weigh as much then as he does now, he was still pretty heavy years ago for scrawny children the likes of my sister Zu, my brother Ba, Yatdean (the baby of the family) and I. When we got him to the table, we had to make sure he stayed there and did not make an escape back to the bedroom. That took a lot of energy. But we had fun.

Remembering the times with father
I cherished times of breaking fast, with my late father at the head of the table reciting the brief prayer once the drums from the neighborhood mosque could be heard. And my siblings and I, we just could not wait any longer…half of our glasses would be empty before he finishes his prayer.

Reminiscing about my childhood, I always remembered how poor and deprived we were. We did not get new clothes on a regular basis or presents or toys like other kids. But come to think of it, there has never been a time when we did not have food to eat. My parents always ensured that there was always enough – not gourmet stuff, but palatable and nourishing food. When I think of how my father with a small pension (he had to take early retirement due to health reasons) managed to do that for a family of fourteen, I am amazed. He must have been a whizz with money management.

My prayers and hopes
These days, the month of Ramadhan spurs my resolve to strengthen my spiritual experiences. I consider it apt to start to be more giving and considerate during this beautiful month. I find more peace at night, maybe because I get back earlier from work and have more time for myself. I get to perform the special “Tarawikh” prayers at the mosque or at home if I cannot make it to the mosque.

And I get to pray more for my beloved father who has been gone for more than 20 years but never forgotten. And for my mother who is bedridden; and my sister Mimi who helps take care of our mother with selfless devotion.

And this is the time when I have faith that god will guide me and grant me the strength to be a more compassionate, supportive and loving wife, mother, sister, friend, colleague and human being . Amen!

HAPPY TO BE ME

2010-05-29T18:33:00.000-07:00

Feels Good to Write Again
It’s been too long since I last posted something on my blog…gosh, it has been ages! The last article talked about my disappointment with AAM and glowing accounts on how my son took charge and saved the day. Ha ha ha! Talk about being the proud mum, no one sees you the same way your mum does eh?
Anyway a friend made a remark about that article. It seems that I should not be allowed to drive since I cannot even attend to the first essential requirement of a credible driver - change the tyres in an emergency; it is downright criminal, he says. Well, FRIEND - I have news for you! No where in the world is there a law which stipulates that someone will only get his/her driving license only after demonstrating that he/she is capable of changing the tyres.

Being Mechanically Challenged
On the other hand, I can see a tinge of merit in his statement. Being independent and fully in control of the situation wherever you are make a lot of cow sense. Changing a tyre does not require skills or knowledge in automobile engineering (never mind that I was struggling with even fundamental physics in university) but it is the physical exertion that I have a problem with. I confess - I am mechanically challenged. Anything that requires manipulation of objects, involving the usage of my hands to work manually or to craft physical items such as ornaments and stuff – I end up with all thumbs. I would need more time to learn most psychomotor skills then other people and mastering them would require endless practices and repetitive drilling, which I find almost nauseating, really .
Although I have always cleverly managed to dodge having to do them, there have been times when I agonize about it, feeling a sense of failure for not being good at things even some eight year olds can master. Seriously - I even had to ask for help from my little nephew when I had difficulties using a particular can opener once. How embarrassing can it get?

A Revelation
But the turning point for me was after reading the book Now Discover Your Strengths by Marcus Buckingham and Donald Clifton. I am now so totally cool with being mechanically challenged because I discovered strengths and talents which I have always taken for granted and considered trivial. It made me see myself as someone with immense potential and power; whatever my shortcomings. The book also provides tips and strategies on how to work around my challenges so that each of them does not become a BIG deal.
There you go….needing help and reaching out to support systems and individuals who have more expertise than you, do not indicate weakness. It just makes you appear human because that’s what life is all about. Einstein was quoted to have asked people close to him what his own home address was.

The Meaning it Created for Me
My greatest grab from the book was this statement “What does a strong life look like?” …it is when a person succeeds in building his life around his/her strengths. As I read on, I felt totally empowered. I want to continue get ting up every morning feeling that I am doing what I love most…and with God’s Grace, I will achieve GREAT things!

My Son, My Hero

2010-03-03T06:56:00.000-08:00

I Could Not Believe It Could Happen to Me…
I was on the way to fetch my son from his tuition class on a rainy night, when my car tire busted. It happened at about eight pm on the Damansara Road off the LDP. I was careless and accidently grazed the road kerb on the right causing the front tire of my Kelisa to cave in. I thought I could stop later, at some shop houses or service station when the dragging sound of the tire alerted me to the danger of veering out of control or worse, so the decision was made for me.

I parked a few meters away from a Durian roadside stall. The Durian seller thought he had a customer but when I asked if he could help, he assured me that he would once it stops raining.

Call for HELP!
I did what most people (who do not have the essential skills for emergencies like this) would do….call the Automobile Association of Malaysia or AAM. It was not easy to get connected to the toll-free number but when I finally managed it, the operator asked for the relevant details and location. Half an hour later, I called AAM to remind them again and was told that they will send someone soon.

Meanwhile, I made arrangements for my son to be fetched by a Taxi driver friend as my husband was away on a business trip. It was getting late, and it was still pouring incessantly and I was feeling quite frightened as there were now fewer cars on the road, so I called again to check whether AAM was able to provide the services or not and the operator reiterated that AAM will send help soon.

Shazmeer to the Rescue
A little later, my 16 year old arrived and we sat in the car while the rain persisted. I felt more comforted but tried AAM again. The usual answer came… “Someone will be there soon”. When the drizzle got milder, Shazmeer got out of the car, went over to the Durian Seller to ask for help to jack up the car.

Even though it was Shazmeer’s first time, within 15 minutes, he managed to change the tire, almost effortlessly. What a sight…needless to say, I was one proud Mama! The Durian man helped too. But Shazmeer’s accomplishments deserve a special mention. I hope he will always be proud of this moment.

I was Lucky…Thank God!
Just before we left, AAM called to ask for our location. I told them not to bother. …it was close to three hours since my first desperate call for help. What saddens me is that I was in dire need of help and sought the services of an organization which had promised to be “Your Number One Motoring Friend”. I shudder to think of some other lone women stranded perhaps on a less busy road waiting for help for that length of time. And if they are unlucky, we read about them in the news the day after.

AAM might be just a non-profit organization, but it cannot get away with sloppy services. We should always remain considerate Malaysians, but we should not tolerate slackers…

Snippets from our Vacation in Jakarta-Bandung

2009-12-21T05:48:00.000-08:00

It was that time of the year again when we go off together for a family getaway. Last year we were in Bali, a week full of sun, sea and soothing spas; the year before in Hong Kong – memories of rides in trams, cable cars, roller coasters and Disney shows still linger in my mind. And this year, we decided to spend some time with my hubby’s sister in Jakarta.

It was filled with fun and endless laughter thanks to the Dynamic Duo - my son Shazmeer and his Aunty Ria who can make a joke about everything and anything. Ria’s husband, Irwan on the other hand made it his mission to feed us every few hours. We had Traditional, Western, Fusion, and Oriental; and tried all kinds of Indonesian desserts, to my daughter’s delight. As for me, I fell in love with the original Jakarta J-Co Donuts. My favorite was the ones with Almond and cream toppings…mmm I can still remember how it tastes like – crunchy and creamy and yummmy. And when we arrived home last night, I nearly blacked out when I stood on the weighing machine. Argggh!! okay, don’t panic – next weekend will be spent at the gym and from now on, no more night feasts, that’s a promise.

The hospitality extended to us was incomparable. The cousins, Mila, Dini, Ledy and their spouses were simply awesome. And of course, there was hilarious Ella who gave me a jaw ache with her incessant jokes. When she was taking photographs of Mila, Ria and I, she nicknamed the three of us, “The Golden Girls”. The moment she joined our group in the photo shoot, she called the group “The Fantastic Four” …that’s Ella for you – quick thinking, extremely witty, and real good company.

It was also a time for discovery for me. I found to my pleasure the side of Ria that I only had a glimpse of, in the past. My sister-in-law has a beautiful soul. A humanitarian personified, she takes care of her cats and dogs with unbounded love and compassion. She puts me to shame for the dismal efforts I have made for the pets in my care. All her cats have cute, quirky names with characters to match. Ria not only dotes on her eleven house-bound cats; with the aid of helpers, she feeds the street cats as well. If she is unable to rescue them personally, she provides funds for them to be taken to the vet and checks on their welfare whenever possible. She will go through sleepless nights if she knows of a suffering animal and cannot reach out to help.

Ria cares about people too. On our shopping trip to Bandung, when we were busy looking for our own stuffs, she spent hours looking for souvenirs for her helpers. I remember when Ria and Irwan used to go off on their holiday trips, if they stop over in KL, there will always be special gifts for everyone, especially the children. And the attention she puts in every selection speaks volumes. My daughter Sheera finds both Ria and Irwan adorable to watch. "Both are extremely softhearted and goofy, and they look so sweet together as well". she says.

We all had a great time in Jakarta. The lovely company made up for the crazy, senseless, non-stop traffic congestion which would have driven us up the wall, otherwise.

Tales of My Seven Sisters

2009-10-17T04:11:00.000-07:00

Being the eighth girl in a family of fourteen was not much fun when I was growing up. You had to wear clothes which are hand me downs many times over and at family events, you will only be assigned mundane, menial tasks because other more interesting chores have already been taken up. But, I would not want to trade the sisters I have for anything in the world. They can be annoying sometimes, but always lovable and I know if ever I am in dire need, I can go to them for help. And the funny thing is that each one of them is different and unique in their own way; physically, emotionally or psycho-socially, etc; almost as if there is no genetic link between them or rather us.

My eldest sister Che Chik would be one of the most interesting individuals I have met. She’s introverted, sensitive and taciturn. The few words she speaks are meaningful and thoroughly thought out and despite her gentle demeanor, she has a nerve of steel and is seldom ignored.

In her early years, my second sister I believe might have suffered slightly from the second child syndrome. It must have been tough for her to be in between a “princess” and a long awaited son. But Yan as she is known as, I believe is one smart cookie. She has the ability to quote information and facts she heard from the radio or TV or read even after a long time have passed. And her observation and questioning skills are of the highest order.

Next comes Ashikin, almost a substitute mum for me in my childhood years although she is just eleven years older. When I was little, she had to carry me everywhere; even when she went out to play. I remember nights when I had to wait for her to finish with the dishes before being tucked in. She was also a beauty in those days and when she got married and left with her hubby, I felt a sense of loss somewhat.

My sister Mimi is the only unmarried sibling in the family. However, Mimi has a heart of gold and is a favorite to many people, especially the nieces and nephews. She is one of the few people who view the task of taking care of our invalid mum as a privilege, not a duty. Her spirit of caring and giving selflessly and openhandedly inspires me in every way.

My fifth sister, an ex-teacher is a worrier and seemed to take the world on her shoulders. When she is calm and untroubled, Rihan is extremely fun and a truly generous soul. She is also very resourceful and creative and I learnt a lot from her in my formative years.

I had very little in common with my sister Norain in my adolescent days because from my perspective then, she was a bit of an extremist. Her constant lectures and blatant disapproval of the way I dressed and behaved practically drove us apart. But now that we are older, we have learned to accept and appreciate each other and I admire her for her strength and resilience.

Last but not least is my sister Zu. I don’t know if she’d consider me a friend because she has lots of her own as she had always been extremely popular until now. But I consider Zu as one of my closest friends . When we were kids, we played and talked and fought and I remember times when I used to be mean and rough with her, but she would never retaliate. Although she was only a year older, she used to beat me at everything from checkers to badminton. She was also able to sing better, read more books and she also has a mole on her chin which caught everyone’s attention and it used to turn me green with envy.

I have been truly blessed! Having these wonderful creatures as sisters have truly enriched me.. And I pray that God will grant them long life, good health, peace, happiness and bountiful blessings for this life and the thereafter.

To Mum with Love

2009-09-04T23:32:00.000-07:00

God's Angel
A friend shared a beautiful story about a “conversation” between God and a soul of a baby in Heaven just before it was sent to Earth. God promises the baby that it will be accompanied by an angel who will love, protect, teach and guide it throughout its childhood. And when asked what the baby should call the angel, God revealed the name of the angel as “Mother”.

Looking at myself
That really jolted me because I started questioning all the things I have done as a mum in the name of discipline which was not anything close to angelic. Yes, it was all in my effort to help make them better human beings, but most times, I had allowed emotions to run havoc. The harsh words uttered in anger, the hurt inflicted even though not deliberate…what kind of an angel am I? Am I really worthy of the glorious significance of the position? I guess it is not too late to ask for God’s forgiveness and also to forgive myself and discover how I can reach an exalted status in this role.

Thinking of my mum
It was not difficult also to shift my thoughts to my mum who is now frail and bed-ridden. In her hey days, she was also a fire-breathing dragon. I am exaggerating. She was acclaimed to have mastered the “dripping water on the stone “ philosophy. She can nag at you until she gets what she wants, and when you think you are off the hook, she has something else for you to slog on…

It was all out of love
But now that she is afflicted with Alzheimer and cannot even ask of anything from me, I long to hear her nagging, her mild scolding, her incessant reminders to be careful and to watch out for every possible ambush life tend to throw our way . I used to think that her promptings were bordering on paranoia but now I realize that she had only be doing her best to fulfill God’s mission. It must really be arduous, being an angel to someone with my disposition – stubborn, opinionated, and strong-willed. And on top of it, she has 13 others which demanded the same of her. Considering all the trials and tribulations she has been through, she now deserves peace, tranquility and love.
Dear God, please bless her as richly as she deserves, for her precious love and guidance which I took for granted...

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO A BEAUTIFUL NATION!

2009-08-30T01:04:00.000-07:00

Talking about my country
I was a bit reluctant to write about the national day spirit, not because I don’t love the country, but I felt that it might just sound tacky and mocking….considering what I feel about the state the country is in today. What I am really trying to get at is why say nice, politically- correct stuff when deep down you actually think things are going to the dogs.

Things gone wrong
Seriously, what else can you say about the situation when you cannot walk outside along the roadside, in your own neighborhood for leisure or to perform chores or to go to work without fearing for your safety. The crime rate has escalated tremendously; news reports say all the time…I don’t have the figures right now, but what is really being done by our authorities to protect our safety? I had a conversation with one senior police officer whom I was sitting next to at a dinner recently and he proudly declared that “Malaysia’s Rate of Crime Solving is one of the highest in the world”. I nearly fell off my chair. Really? How come we still read about major offences against innocent citizens, atrocious crimes on children, and blatant law -breaking go unpunished because the police cannot find evidence, or had botched up the process of investigation in the first place or someone else agreed to be made a scapegoat in high level cases. Apart from some seizure related to drug crimes, I have yet to hear a serious crime being solved successfully. To protect ourselves, we have just signed up for a “Neighborhood Watch” program which would be providing security services for a fee. And our taxes still remain just as high.

What else can go wrong
While I am on the roll, I want to share about the state of filth in the streets of KL and PJ. There has been many a time when my family and I are walking along the sidewalk in front of shop houses; and to our horror, we see rats, the size of small cats scuttling from garbage cans to drains. Imagine the diseases which are going around. We spend millions trying to find vaccines when we should be focusing on cleaning up.

What means to me most
Why am I bitching so much when I am supposed to talk about what MERDEKA means to me? I love this country. I remember returning from oversea trips, not that I travel that much, but when I am on the flight back, especially on MAS, when I hear familiar voices and phrases, it made me feel so wonderful and warm inside - a sense of belonging, like a humming rhythmic in my soul. I love the places I visited, be it Indonesia, Thailand, Australia, India, Hong Kong, Europe or US – I met wonderful people everywhere and was mostly awed by some of the things I saw, but after a certain period, I longed for home, not just because of the loved ones left behind. I just miss the place, the greenery – whatever that’s left, the beautiful people, the crazy pace of life, the noise, the food of course and the smell - haze and all.

I love my country
Most contemporaries agree with me. Whatever it is, there is something about Malaysia, which gets to you and creates that sense of belonging, loyalty, and devotion. And if I love it so much, I should be able to take it warts and all right? And this MERDEKA, my resolution is to make it my mission to contribute towards improving whatever is wrong with my nation in every possible way I can. That’s my pledge. I will start right away…

LETTER TO MY DAUGHTER

2009-07-19T01:52:00.000-07:00

Dear Precious,

I have not always been a good mother. In your early years, I was so busy with office work that I neglected you at times, taking for granted that you are well taken care off by your paternal grandparents. God bless them! Yes, I took pains to teach you how to talk and read and showed you off as a super kid, but I never stopped to think that you needed more than that. You were extremely shy and hated to be shown off and instead off leaving you be, I thought you were just being stubborn and recalcitrant and continued to push you.

I did not have much patience with you during your formative years, expecting you to be like other kids and not allowing you to grow in your own special way. I remember times when I used to ask you how your friends perform in comparison to you instead of just being happy with your accomplishments. I recalled telling you that so and so are achieving wondrous feats; you should aspire to be like other people’s children …as if being just you is not good enough.

Reflecting on all that, I wish it could have been different, but I know going back in time is beyond us. However, I pray that it is still possible to make amends. To let you know that you are everything that is good and pure and beautiful from your daddy and I. You are truly our princess and we are sooo proud of you and have been - from Day 1 when you came squalling out into the world.

My mistake was to have tried to mould you into the image of the great individual I had visualized in my mind all along. Little did I care that you already have that natural mechanism programmed in you to be GREAT. I was trying to make you live my dreams, when I should have let you live yours. I pray that Allah would show me the path to redeem the wrongs that I have done. And baby, I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.

Your loving mother always.

TEACHING EAGLES TO SOAR

2009-07-18T20:47:00.000-07:00

The past five days have been one of the most memorable days since I delved into the world of learning facilitation. It was challenging yes, but it was fun too and most of all it was extremely touching to know that you can see people make incremental but visible changes right in front of you. All we did were share the tools and techniques to help these aspiring “eagles” realize the need to discard their baggage and barriers that limits their growth, sharpen up their worldview and build on their innate talents and strengths as well as open their minds to the possibilities that await them in the future. We use the “Eagle” as a metaphor to enable them to visualize the positive characteristics they should be aiming for.

They were PETRONAS scholars within the age range of 19 – 22. They came from different backgrounds but with a few exceptions, were uncannily similar in a number of aspects – well mannered and exceptionally polite – they addressed me as “Madam”; although we encouraged the usage of first names, willing to learn, enjoy interactive activities which involve physical exertions, but getting them to talk and share their views willingly was like trying to get blood out of stone. That was an exaggeration, but really I was, and still am amazed at how unresponsive they were the first day; it was almost torturous…. I nearly had second thoughts about continuing. During the break, I reflected on it and wondered what we or I did wrong. My partner Jalil said it was normal, they needed more time to warm up. Somehow, I don’t think my son Shazmeer and his pals would have required that long to thaw…I could be wrong.

Anyway, I enjoyed myself tremendously once the participants started letting their hair down. They were in their elements – half child; half adult in their thinking and mannerisms. They amazed me with their childlike creativity and adult ability to engage in high level discussions and share views which were profound and extraordinary. They relished competitions and always set out to win but appreciated the need to also cooperate and collaborate. I felt like a proud mother when I saw how they had transformed from shy, reserved individuals to courageous presenters in just five days… and I pray to God that with all that they have accomplished, they would be able to sustain the energy. We bade them farewell on Friday night, wishing them all the best …"May all our eagles soar with the wind and reach wondrous heights”. We also told them that should they stumble and need a little nudge, we will be within reach.

I would always treasure the five special days I had with these twenty six young people from UTP. I am just so grateful to have gotten a little insight into their minds; what they like or dislike, how they think and what motivate them. I believe this experience will help me become a better learning facilitator, communicator, mother and ultimately make be a greater human.

Trust men and they will be true to you; treat them greatly, and they will show themselves great.Ralph W. Emerson

REMEMBERING MICHAEL - THANK YOU FOR THE MUSIC!

2009-06-27T21:56:00.000-07:00

I feel that I have to write about Michael Jackson even if his death or even his life did not mean much to me, though I love his songs and “Man in the Mirror” is my all time favourite. But I am just amazed of the enormous, gargantuan impact his demise made on the media. All day long, radio stations were playing his songs…a long marathon – nonstop rendition of hits ranging from his early days with "Jackson 5" to the most recent ones. And it continued into the second and sporadically onto the third day too. Most media stations, from the more serious CNN to Entertainment channels had no other stories to cover apart from what had occurred in “Neverland”. The guy had talent – bus loads of them. But what really went wrong? Wasn’t talent and creativity supposed to make you smarter if not wiser to handle life’s challenges better? Or at least afford you assistants and experts who would be able to help you out anyway? What about friends and siblings???
One memorable phrase I read on what Michael depicted to a writer was that – he is a classic paradox – So adult and matured when he was a kid and yet child-like in his adult life. This tells a lot. A keen Psychologist which I am not would probably be able to write a thesis on this.
Anyway, all I wish is for him to find peace now which I feel that he never had in life…to err is human, to forgive divine!

A Teacher By Any Other Name...

2009-05-29T23:05:00.000-07:00

It was time to say goodbye to one of the most unforgettable professors at the university. He taught us how to be a good consultant in the most innovative manner. Instead of just quoting real life examples and discussing case studies, he took us out of class to experience cases hands-on. His contacts were incredible; from fast food franchises to global organizations that were willing to provide opportunities for collaboration and experimentation. He threw us in the deep end, providing sporadic, minimal instructions. But lo and behold, we survived and some of us even surpass our own expectations.

It can be described as a love-hate relationship. Some of us LOVE what he has made us achieve, but most of us HATE his methods. He has mastered “The Art of Insulting” my pal Amani, said but she admitted to benefitting from the course tremendously. People were dropping like flies from the class… “The university might not like it,” the professor confessed, “but my conscience is clear.” he continued. What he meant to achieve was to ensure only people who are deserving of the credentials, the truly committed, the resilient, the tough-minded and those who would not be defeated by his brand of brutal teaching (if you can call it that?) tactics can be worthy of qualifying from this module. He promotes the Master in Managerial Psychology (MMP) as a top notch Masters program - a first in Asia; if not in the world in regard its approach and modules.

I am just glad it is all over, it was stressful, yes; though I have experienced the trials and tribulations of working with worse superiors in the past. However, I would not want a repeat of those six weeks of tension. As it is, working eight to nine hours a day is challenging enough to contend with at my age. For the next three hours at the night classes, I hope and pray for lecturers, with the personalities of Dr Goh and Franklyn who are able to bring the best out of us without the verbal confrontation and the diatribe. I guess I subscribe to "Paula Abdul’s" style rather than "Simon Cowell’s methods. I believe in accentuating the strengths and building on the positive to coach people to be better. Although there is always a place for constructive criticisms and working on eliminating the negatives, otherwise how can we ever hope to improve or excel?

Bits & Pieces of My Life

2009-05-17T05:59:00.000-07:00

When I reflect upon the fifty something years of my life, sometimes I wonder if it was real or just a peep at someone else’s, called “Harison”. If I am just a peeping tom, who is that person who stares back at me in the mirror? Or is that another convoluted tool created by someone meant to fool the real me? Take that for multiple perplexity - psychobabble at its worst!

Truth be told, my life is far less complicated than that. I consider myself first and foremost a Muslim, a daughter, wife, mother (to my own and siblings’ children), sister, and friend and in each role hope and pray that I bring my own special value to the relationships. Relationships mean a lot to me. Although I appreciate my privacy and love to have time on my own, I am happiest and most fulfilled when I am with interesting and exciting people. I am what psychologists might call a “dominating sanguine”. I am an extrovert; personified – simply love to be the centre of attention and believe that fun is almost as essential as oxygen. I thrive on change and excitement and cringe when I am in dull, staid environments and honestly, find rules and procedures stifling.

I have had a wonderful life, I feel blessed – have a lovely husband, smart and beautiful kids, warm relationships with all my thirteen siblings and mother and I have reached a peak in my career which I am fully satisfied with. I could not ask for more. Except that, a little bit more savings would be great. On a more serious note, I sometimes wonder about the meaning of life – why we exist and what are we supposed to be really doing to fulfill the reason for our being here. I wonder if I have learned enough of how to be a good human, thought enough about things which should matter, done enough to make a difference, and justify my existence. Have I been truly helping my fellow humans or making efforts to preserve God’s creations, and done all I could or should?

The thing is, I find myself progressing one step forward, rejoice and celebrate, and at the next turn, find myself digressing two steps backwards. I discover that, to continually grow and strive to be a better human being is hard work. I suppose it is kind of a journey for me and I hope by 2011 when I would be performing the pilgrimage to the Holy Land, I would have covered more bases. That’s what I relentlessly pray for.

This might sound morbid, but I do sometimes visualize what people especially peers, colleagues, and friends and loved ones and all those whose lives I have touched will talk about at my funeral. I would not want them to mourn or miss me too much, but rather to attest that I have made a difference in their lives in meaningful ways – helped, empowered, shared, provided opportunities, guided, showed them ways of how to live with love, truth, integrity, kindness, generousity without expecting anything back in return and has truly fulfilled my responsibilities as a human.

Wow, if I can really hear all that and if all of them are true, I would not be so afraid to face my Maker right?

You Can Teach Old Dogs New Tricks

2009-05-07T09:00:00.000-07:00

It was painful...not really. How I love to exaggerate. It was just a bit problematic in the beginning bcos I forgot my gmail password and got lost for a while, but managed to get back on track thanks to my beloved boys...Mel & Eldy. Thanks sweeties!

That just proved that you can learn about anything. Whoever said you can't teach old dogs new tricks didn't know what he was talking about. I don't mind being called an old dog at all just don't make it a female one.

Anyway, it feels good to accomplish something I thought I could never do it on my own. I nearly had to send an SOS to my baby girl in Sydney. I didn't need to afterall , haha!

Gosh...that feels GREAT!