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.
Monday, December 21, 2009
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Tales of My Seven Sisters
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.
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.
Friday, September 4, 2009
To Mum with Love
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...
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...
Sunday, August 30, 2009
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO A BEAUTIFUL NATION!
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…
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…
Sunday, July 19, 2009
LETTER TO MY DAUGHTER
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.
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.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
TEACHING EAGLES TO SOAR
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
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
Saturday, June 27, 2009
REMEMBERING MICHAEL - THANK YOU FOR THE MUSIC!
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!
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!
Friday, May 29, 2009
A Teacher By Any Other Name...
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?
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Bits & Pieces of My Life
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?
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?
Thursday, May 7, 2009
You Can Teach Old Dogs New Tricks
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!
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!
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