I WILL SURVIVE

I was at Abah's place to pick up Pipoh and family to the airport yesterday evening. They were back for the great Aqiqah bash for Irman during the weekend. It was more like a '3 hari 2 malam' celebration, done with quite an extravagant pomp, I would say.Anyway,I will not rant about the kenduri , here, as I feel Amir's vivid photos and video taking of the occasion spoke well and enough.

This is actually about the nonchalant goodbye conversation between Abah, Imran and Hasya before they left and it was narrated back to us by Abah who found it very amusing. Hasya apparently has found a calling to be a doctor as she finds it intriguing whilst observing Long dress Abah's wound on the leg where they retrieved the long saphenous vein for the bypass graft. So she was telling abah that she would study medicine in Kuantan so that she could stay at Abah's house and take care of his wounds. She even went to the extend of choosing the bedroom for her to occupy.

Then, Abah told Imran, "Hasya wants to be a doctor to take care of Aki. She wants to live here in Kuantan.' Abah made a mental calculation and told that she would become a doctor in 18 years time. After a quick after-thought, Imran looked at Hasya and told her flatly,"But he won't survive that long, Hasya' When Abah related to us back, we burst out laughing at the children's innocence and bluntness! Pipoh only managed a short quip, surprised at her son's witty remark, "Amboi mulut!"

Little does Imran know that Abah has a long-living gene in him, inherited from his mom who lived till she was almost 90. Maybe Abah would live to see Hasya become a doctor, after all!

BILA AKU.....

BILA AKU.....

Bila aku tegur engkau,
Bukan bermakna aku maksum,
Tidak pula lebih bagus,
Semata-mata aku sayang,
Mahu lihat engkau berjaya,
Dunia dan akhirat sana.

Bila aku nasihat engkau,
Aku kata aku ikhlas,
Tidak sekali aku insinuasi,
Yang engkau pula tidak ikhlas,
Maksud ku hanya satu,
Tiada niat jahat terhadap mu.

Bila aku tegur engkau,
Patutkah engkau balikkan teguran kepadaku?
Tak bolehkah engkau terima dengan lapang?
Aku dah kata aku pun kurang,
Tak payahlah pulang paku serpih,
Tak akan ke mana kalau teguran di sisih.

Bila aku tegur engkau,
Bawa bertenang dan ambillah kira,
Bahawa teguran ku ikhlas semata,
Tiada niat menjatuhkan marwah,
Tiada niat menyakiti,
Hanya luahan dari hati ke hati.

Ada faham?

Nukilan: Cekadak Dalam Semak , Ramadhan 1430

25th Anniversary Celebrated!

........may Allah swt grant us tranquility, happiness, good health and many years ahead...amin

25 red roses signifying 25 years of married life

Late dinner after iftar as I was working at night

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The Morning We Sent Sofi (2 am)







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Our Annual BBQ, this time at the balcony

Our compulsory dish: bbq-ed chicken and lamb with coleslaw

Mashed potato . grilled salmon

The hanging ornaments

Desperate Measures To Prevent Homesickness

Sofi has gone back, back to the land of perestroika, back to where she resides for the past 4 years. The land of freezing , harsh winter where they need to seal the hostel windows or the unforgiving cold air will bite you to the bone. Her seven weeks at home was filled with many memorable things but can never satiate her. The last few days when the dreaded packing time came, she began her legendary must-do , that is to stuff her luggage to the bursting seams! But this time, she is committing the crime on Sarah’s red bag as she had busted her old bag, enough!

You see, Sofi has this weakness of trying to bring her whole room , if not the whole of Malaysia back to Russia! She desperately wants to be at ‘home’ there. Half of her luggage is jammed with sundries as she overloads it with stuffs she deemed necessary for her daily cooking there. She even staved in kaffir lime leaves and lemon grass, enough to quench her tomyam longing for few months, I should say. Whatever she finds on the supermarket shelves that incites her culinary instincts, she’d buy for that ‘what if I need it then?’ occasions. There’s more to this. Believe it or not, she has posted 2 boxes of these cooking goods via sea (submarine as the post-lady had jested) which will arrive in perhaps two months , just in time for her grocery replenishing.

Of course, the other portion of the poor bag is brimmed up with piles of books. As Volgograd has limited bookstores that sell English books, she naturally has to stock up a sufficient supply of fictions or not, to keep her sanity going.

By the way, she managed to pull through during baggage check-in in KLIA. Alhamdulillah the check in lady was extremely nice. After leveling out things between her hand and check in luggage, everything was fine, until she reached Moscow for internal flight to Volgograd. The strict Russians are as unforgiving as their harsh winter. She was charged few hundred roubles for excess baggage.

This weekend, it’s Muhammad’s turn to fly back. As Muhammad is a firm believer of traveling light, we would expect less hassle from him, insyallah. Meanwhile, Sarah is ‘basking’ in house-work and endless errands (plus taking care of my ailing FIL), till she starts work.

To all my kids, may all of you have a successful year ahead filled with Allah’s blessings. Amin.

WHEN YOU DON'T KNOW THE REASONS WHY.......

A funny thing happened the other day and it opened my eyes wide and made me realize how naïve some non muslims can be when it comes to basic rulings in Islam. As our hair (my daughters and I) needed trimming badly after months of not visiting the hair-salon, I called my favorite hair-stylist to arrange an appointment. After agreeing on date and time, I managed to request for the back room to avoid meeting possible male customers.

However her reciprocated comments made me laugh. “Oh tapi ada dua male colleagues yang akan masuk bilik itu untuk ambil barang. Tapi you jangan risau. Mereka tak apa punya. Mereka tak kacau you.” Masyallah! What was she thinking? That I was worried that males who sat eyes on my hair will start to harass me or something? That I am so self-conscious perasan to even think that other men would ogle at my plain hair? I retorted with a giggle, telling her that I can’t show my hair to any ajnabi men regardless of his implicit intentions or not, if he does see it. Thus she sat another time, a date when the 2 male colleagues are not working. Good I thought, she understood.

So on the appointed time and date, we sauntered into the salon, straight to the back room. After a cheerful greeting, August (not her actual name but hers is also after a month of the year, the fourth in fact, ) said this in her chirpy voice, “ So siapa yang tak mahu lelaki lihat rambut dia?” addressing my daughters and I , nonchalantly. I almost blurted out in jest, “Only me. The rest are young and available so it’s ok for them”.

On a similar note, my daughters live in a hostel that allows male students to enter the female premise. Thus each time, a male student ‘intrude’, the muslim girls would run back to their rooms to cover themselves. Once an elderly technician ( a local Russian guy who knows nothing of Islamic rulings I guess) came in and was mystified to find the girls running helter skelter as he ambled through the floor. Baffled, he was given an even more bewildering answer by a male student who managed to pull his legs. “You are not allowed to see them without their cover or you will be forced to marry them!” The next time he came in and accidentally bumped into the girls, he immediately closed his eyes with his hands and shouted out that he didn’t see anyone! Talk about forced marriages!!