My Mak

Back in 2009, on Mother’s Day, I wrote a posting on how I felt about my Mak.

How much I loved her. How much she meant to me. How grateful I was for all the things, sacrifices and everything she did for me.

How I loved our at-least-5-times-a-week phone conversations and enjoying every minute of them listening to her stories.

How I appreciated her for lending me her shoulders and ears when I was down. How I valued the tips and advices she gave. How much it truly meant for us in helping us coping with having two special children and during our ups and downs.

How happy I was to see the sparkle in Mak’s eyes or the happiness in her voice everytime she was with good news. And just how painful it was for me to see or hear her cry.

I wrote about the unconditional love she gave, and about why she never once raised her voice to me. How I loved her babying her grown-up children and grandchildren. And how I adored her perfections... and imperfections.

I wrote about how great a cook she was. How I loved her air tangan. Of how contagious her smiles and laughters were. Of how gentle the words she spoke. Of how much I loved her that it hurts.

I remember writing how I wanted her to be there forever for me and my family.

I wanted her to be IMMORTAL. And that I know was simply impossible.

That was when I stopped writing the entry. I just couldn’t fathom the thoughts of not having her anymore in our lives. And it felt rather childish, a 43yo wishing her mom to live forever. Get a grip, I told myself. Nothing lasts forever.

Thus I made this post instead.

How I wish I’ve posted the first entry which I’ve deleted. So that she knew how much she meant to me when she read my blog. How much I loved her.

Now my Mak is gone.

She who meant the world to me. Whom I still need. Whom I never dared to imagine could die, had died.

But Allah knows best. Although it was sudden, we were given the chance to say our goodbyes when she was in a coma. We gave her our hugs and kisses. We held her hands. We talked to her. We recited prayers and gave her our do’as. In her deep sleep we knew she’d be in safe hands when she was ready to leave.

My heart was torn to pieces as I struggled to prepare for her loss.
And within that <60 hours, she left us. Peacefully.

Exactly two months ago.
Thursday 24th November 2011 @ 3:57am.
She was 69. Massive Subarachnoid Hemorrhage.

It was excruciatingly painful to lose someone you love.

But I have accepted everything with my utmost redho.

Innalillahi wainna ilahiroji’un – From Allah We Came and Unto Him is Our Return.


.................... 9th August 1942 - 24th November 2011 ...............

May Allah grant my Mak, DATIN RAHMI JURAU, the highest place in the Jannah. Semoga Mak tenang di sana di samping orang-orang yang Beriman. Amiin.

**To those who still have their Maks, or Ayahs – ‘enjoy’ having them in your lives while you can coz when she/he’s gone, they’re REALLY GONE**

Segalanya Kerana Donni

Kosmo - August 12, 2009

Oleh SUBASHINI RAJANDRA
subashini.rajandra@kosmo.com.my

Sekumpulan bekas pelajar Maktab Rendah Sains Mara Kulim, Kedah terus gigih berjuang mengumpul dana sebanyak RM250,000 demi kepentingan ‘anak-anak tersayang’ di Kiulu, Sabah.

Begini bermulanya cerita yang ingin disampaikan. Pada 20 Mac 2007, akhbar Daily Express News di Sabah memaparkan sebuah artikel yang cukup menyayat hati. Sesiapa sahaja yang membacanya dapat membayangkan kedaifan hidup sebuah keluarga yang terpaksa kais pagi makan pagi, kais petang makan petang untuk terus bernyawa.

Kisah itu menceritakan bagaimana enam orang adik-beradik dan ibu mereka sekadar 'kenyang' dengan menjamah bubur nasi dan sayur kangkung. Menyingkap kisah hidup mendiang Donni John Duin, 11, dia ialah seorang anak yang pendiam dan tidak bermasalah. Penderitaan yang terpaksa dilalui sejak bapanya disumbat masuk ke penjara akibat dadah begitu menyentuh hati.

Menurut ibunya, Hina Joloni, 39, setiap kali pulang dari sekolah, wajah Donni begitu murung kerana tertekan dengan ejekan dan cemuhan rakan sekelas. Menyarung pakaian yang kusam dan hanya mampu menikmati sajian ringkas, Donni merasai keperitan yang teramat pedih.

Seorang kanak-kanak di Kiulu, Sabah merenung masa depan yang tidak pasti ekoran kesukaran datang ke sekolah.

Kali pertama, dia cuba membunuh diri tetapi gagal. Namun dalam percubaan kedua, Hina menemui anaknya yang sudah tidak bernyawa. "Apabila saya menegur perbuatannya yang cuba membunuh diri pada kali pertama, Donni memberitahu bahawa dia sanggup berbuat demikian bagi meringankan beban keluarga."

"Setidak-tidaknya, kurang seorang anak untuk diberi makan dan bahagian makanannya boleh dibahagi kepada adik-beradik lain," luah Hina mengenangkan kata-kata anak kesayangannya dengan penuh hiba.

Sebaik sahaja membaca kisah itu, entah berapa ramai daripada kita mampu mengimbau kembali kisah pilu tersebut. Mungkin ia sudah lenyap daripada ingatan kita ketika ini tetapi bukan bagi Raja Ali Raja Othman, Hamidi Baharuddin, Kamaruddin Yusop, Noor Bakri Ahmad, Mashitah Puteh, AR. Meor Wazir Zul'Aidin dan rakan-rakan mereka yang lain.

Raja Ali berada di bumi Sabah semasa kejadian pilu yang menimpa Donni berlaku. Selepas mengadakan perjumpaan dengan Sabah Credit Corporation (SCC) atas dasar kerja, beliau berbual dengan Pengurus Besar SCC, Datuk Vincent YK Pung. Ketika itu jugalah, isu Donni dibincangkan.

Hina Joloni manakala Donni (gambar kecil).

Di Sabah, hampir 5,000 remaja dilaporkan terpaksa berhenti sekolah sebelum sempat menduduki peperiksaan Penilaian Menengah Rendah (PMR). Bukan kerana tidak berminat tetapi dibelenggu kemiskinan dari generasi demi generasi. Selain itu, mereka juga menghadapi kesukaran perjalanan berulang-alik dari sekolah yang terletak jauh dari rumah.

SCC menerusi kelab sukannya sentiasa menjalankan aktiviti tanggungjawab sosial korporat seperti mendirikan asrama sekolah dan surau di Sabah. "Pada tahun 2007, saya difahamkan sebanyak lapan buah sekolah masih menunggu mendapatkan bantuan membina asrama," kata Raja Ali ketika ditemui Kosmo! di Kuala Lumpur.

"Sebagai seorang bekas pelajar yang pernah menikmati faedah kemudahan asrama, saya meminta Vincent supaya menyediakan asrama di sekolah yang benar-benar memerlukan di Sabah. Sekolah itu akan menjadi projek 'kami' yang diusahakan secara bersatu padu," ujarnya sambil merujuk 'kami' adalah rakan-rakan sekolahnya yang popular dengan gelaran Killerbatch.

Killerbatch merupakan sekumpulan pelajar Maktab Rendah Sains Mara Kulim, Kedah yang pernah tinggal di asrama maktab tersebut dari tahun 1979 sehingga 1983. Mujur disediakan sebuah tempat tinggal yang berdekatan dengan tempat pembelajaran, mereka tidak perlu risau tentang cuaca panas atau hujan sekali gus berpeluang belajar dalam suasana selesa dan tenang. Berdasarkan pengalaman manis itu, Killerbatch memahami betapa susahnya kehidupan bagi sesetengah kanak-kanak di Sabah tanpa asrama.

Jika musim banjir, sebahagian jambatan gantung ini hanyut dibawa arus sungai.

Pada hujung tahun 2008, SMK Tun Fuad Stephens di Kiulu, Sabah muncul dalam senarai sekolah yang menantikan pembinaan asrama. Sebanyak 100 daripada 1,400 pelajar di sekolah itu memerlukan asrama dengan kadar segera.

Sebahagian besar para pelajar ini berjalan kaki selama dua hingga tiga jam merentasi hutan dan sungai menuju ke sekolah. Menurut ahli Killerbatch, Megat Zulkarnain Mohd Nazri, dia pernah terserempak dengan seorang pelajar tingkatan lima, Jefri di jambatan Poturidong, Kiulu yang bangun seawal pukul 4 pagi agar tidak terlambat ke sekolah.

"Apabila dilanda banjir besar, sebahagian jambatan gantung ini hanyut," katanya.

SMK Tun Fuad Stephens mempunyai sebuah asrama desa tetapi ia telahpun dihuni oleh 100 pelajar. Dengan 16 orang ditempatkan dalam sebuah bilik, ia menyukarkan Guru Besar, Marsha Anthony Bongkok dan wakil Persatuan Ibu Bapa dan Guru (PIBG), Joisin Rumut mencari ruang kosong. Ada juga yang terpaksa berkongsi katil dengan adik sendiri meskipun sempit.

DARI kiri: Hamidi, Kamaruddin, Bakri, Meor dan Raja Ali. Duduk di hadapan ialah Mashitah.

Mengetahui keadaan genting yang dialami di sekolah ini sejak bertahun-tahun, Raja Ali, Hamidi, Kamaruddin, Bakri, Mashitah dan Meor sepakat meminta ahli-ahli Killerbatch lain mengutip derma yang disasarkan berjumlah RM250,000.

Secara kebetulan, tahun ini menyaksikan sambutan ulang tahun Killerbatch yang ke-30. Pada majlis keraian yang diadakan pada 4 Februari 2009 di Taman Ekuestrian Putrajaya, ramai hadirin termakan pujukan mereka. "Bagi menjadikan acara ini lebih bermakna selain bersuka-ria, sesi kutipan derma dilakukan pada hari itu juga."

"Proses itu diteruskan sehingga bulan Mei lalu apabila kami berjaya mengumpul sebanyak RM57,426," ujar Bakri yang kerap mengadakan pertemuan dengan ahli-ahli jawatankuasa projek Asrama Donni.

Sebagai ibu bapa, mereka semua amat memahami kesegeraan bagi membina Asrama Donni sebelum bermulanya sesi persekolahan tahun 2010.

"Walaupun kami sibuk dengan kerjaya masing-masing, berulang-alik ke luar negara dan menyediakan yang terbaik buat keluarga sendiri, kami komited untuk menjayakan projek sulung ini dalam apa juga cara sekalipun," kata Bakri lagi sambil disokong oleh Mashitah.

Usaha murni yang diperjuangkan oleh Killerbatch ini mampu mengubah nasib pelajar-pelajar di Kiulu, Sabah.

Pada 16 Mei 2009, satu sejarah manis terpahat apabila majlis penyerahan cek bernilai RM57,426 kepada pihak SCC diadakan. Kutipan itu digunakan sepenuhnya untuk kerja-kerja pembinaan Asrama Donni di SMK Tun Fuad Stephens, Kiulu, Sabah. Seramai 10 delegasi yang terdiri daripada Raja Ali dan rakan-rakannya datang ke Kiulu bagi menyaksikan majlis pecah tanah pada keesokan harinya.

Turut dijemput hadir ialah seorang guru yang mengajar pada era Killerbatch iaitu Teh Sharifudin Abdullah. "Dahulu mereka terkenal dengan kenakalan yang memeningkan kepala guru. Sekarang, mereka sudah berjaya dalam bidang masing-masing dan saya bangga dengan anak-anak didikan saya yang menyahut konsep 1Malaysia yang dilaungkan oleh Perdana Menteri, Datuk Seri Najib Tun Razak," kata Teh menerusi perbualan telefon dengan Kosmo!.

"Killerbatch, rata-ratanya terdiri daripada mereka yang beragama Islam manakala SMK Tun Fuad Stephens mengisi hampir 70 peratus pelajar beragama Kristian. Inilah yang dikatakan keikhlasan yang lahir merentasi agama, bangsa dan sempadan geografi," tambahnya.

*************************************************************

My heart goes out to the children of the remote areas such as Kiulu, who spend hours just to get to their schools every day. So sad... to keep even one child in school before he could be a drop-out is an important milestone indeed.

And here we are.... with our children in their cozy rides to school and lunchboxes full of nutritious food.

Sedihkan?

It’s great that my wonderful friends from Killerbatch embarked on this Kulim to Kiulu project. Although I’m not actively involved, I’m always here giving them the support. So far, insyaallah we’ll get another RM50K from TuneTalk Chief Talker Contest in which a Killerbatch rep constested and won. Next will be the Charity Art Exhibition with IMissHimSoMuch. Later will be Ghazal Party Queen (theater) in December 2009. And I guess it doesn't stop there!

Let’s just hope and pray that we’ll get enough donations to complete the building of Asrama Donni.

A Hostel in Memory of Donni

..... I'm so proud to be part of this :)

NST Online » Local News
2009/05/15

A HOSTEL IN MEMORY OF DONNI
By : Joniston Bangkuai

TUARAN: Soon, about 100 students from far-flung villages in Kiulu, about 20km from here, will no longer have to endure a tiring long walk to Sekolah Menengah Kebangsaan Tun Fuad Stephens.

Thanks to the alumni of Maktab Rendah Sains Mara (MRSM) Kulim in Kedah, who call themselves Killerbatch, and the Sabah Credit Corporation, a hostel is being built for the students.

The ground-breaking for the project, which is estimated to cost RM200,000, will be held today in the presence of the students and their parents.

To kick-start the project Killerbatch, which was represented by Raja Ali Raja Othman, presented a donation of RM56,567 to SCC general manager Datuk Vincent Pung yesterday.

He said the rest of the funds would be collected through more fund-raising initiatives such as the staging of a play entitled "Ghazal Party Queen" which is scheduled for Dec 12.

Raja Ali said the heart-wrenching story of Donni John Duin, an 11-year-old school boy who committed suicide two years ago to ease the burden of his poverty-stricken family, prompted Killerbatch to embark on the project.

"The dormitory will be named Asrama Donni in remembrance of the boy," he said.

Donni, a Year Five pupil of Sekolah Kebangsaan Kinarut in Papar, had apparently taken his own life as he could no longer take the teasing from his schoolmates who likened his food, which was packed by his mother, to dog vomit.

"We were all greatly saddened by the heartbreaking event when we heard about it and decided that we must not let it pass unnoticed.

"The hostel is our way to ensure that what Donni went through does not happen again," another representative of Killerbatch, Hasnan Jamaludin, said.

Killerbatch also noted that a recent article in the New Straits Times had stated that about 5,000 teenagers in Sabah had dropped out of school before sitting the Penilaian Menengah Rendah examination.

This was largely because of the long distances the students had to travel to and from school each day.

Describing the project as a bridge between Malaysians in Kulim and Kiulu, Raja Ali said it was in line with the 1Malaysia concept espoused by the government.

Love Hurts

Every Saturday and Sunday, we took Hanna, Hasya and Haifa for their swimming lessons. Last Saturday, I was sitting on a plastic chair by the pool, reading Jodi Picoult’s Mercy with Hanis coloring away on a bathrobe next on the floor when this guy came to me. I know him as “Joe” (not his real name). Joe is 22, a 6-footer. He’s a lifeguard/rescuer at the pool. I talked to him many times before, but never about personal things. So when he came to me with this question, I was a bit surprised.

“Kak, I’d like to ask for your opinion. It's a long story. I hope you’ll bear with me.”

I put down my book. I thought this must be interesting. “I’m all ears. Is it about a girl?”

“Yes Kak, and I hope you could give your opinion on this. I just don’t know what to do.”

So he began his story. Apparently he’s in love with this girl, Sue (not her real name). Sue, according to Joe, was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. So mesmerizing, he said - glowing skin, face of an angel, petite body and was a princess everybody was dreaming about. To make matters worse, they sat next to each other for three years – when they were in Form 1 until Form 3. He said he liked her a lot until it hurt so much inside, but he didn’t have the nerve to let her know. After all, they were like buddies, and Joe said he was a very very chubby giant when he was at that age and was sure that she wouldn’t like him the way he wanted her to be. He also used to be a postman for other boys who were interested in her.

He kept his feelings all to himself for three years. He said he understood that he was in a different league altogether and knew for sure that she’d laugh at him if she knew of his true feelings.

When they went to separate classes in Form 4 and Form 5, Joe became restless. He couldn’t think straight for this dream girl of his was no longer there in the classroom with him. It was so bad that his parents saw the changes in him and brought him to see the psychiatrist. He said he played along with the psychiatrist but he didn’t reveal the real reason why he has changed. He couldn’t let his secret be read like a book. He loved Sue too much to get her involved in the turmoil he was in.

So, Joe kept on seeing this psychiatrist until he finished his secondary school. Right after SPM, he left home. He said he needed the vacuum to forget Sue since he couldn’t let her out of his system. But he told no one the actual reason why he left. Since he believed that he was a born-rescuer since he was 6yo (remember the movie “The Guardian”?), he left for the islands and places which had oceans attached. He went on learning oceanography and perfected himself to be a true rescuer.

He was away for 4 years. Different islands and different places. He thought he could forget Sue, but he couldn’t. Sue still sits on that pedestal that Joe has created ten years ago.

He came back to his parents last year in January. That was because he didn’t want his mom to cry for him anymore. He didn’t want to hurt his parents no more. And he realized that being 4 years away didn’t even diminish his feelings towards Sue. In fact it was still there, occupying his heart in whole. And according to him, it was achingly painful just to think of her.

His exact words - "Kak, it's like a dagger punched thru the heart, everytime I think of her".

Ten years, and he said he loves her even more. For ten years he couldn’t see any other women at all, although opportunities were there. For ten years, he’s still at the same point where he left before. His heart still yearns for her.

Five months ago, he met Sue on the train. He said she looked as pretty as ever. And his heart went thumping like crazy when their gazes met.

They had a small chat. He said he stuttered. From then on, he tried to avoid her everytime he saw her on the train. And she looked so lovely from afar. When a week ago he couldn’t avoid her, they talked a while. She gave him her name card and asked him to call her.

The question that Joe’s been meaning to ask me was : “Should I call her, Kak? Yes or No?”

I looked at him straight in the eye and said – “Yes”

I told him, it’s not everyday that a person gets a second chance. Opportunity seldom knocks twice. This is the time for him to get to know her. But don’t rush into anything. Go slow. And be ready for disappointments for she may only be asking him to be her friend, nothing more. But most of all, I said to him, you’ll never know until you try... and putting yourself in a different league makes it even harder.

She might have liked him since she was 13, but he was too oblivious to notice it. There’s a possibility of that. If he were to pass this opportunity, he’d never know for sure.

Opportunities lost will be opportunities lost. Then regret will haunt him forever.

When I met him again the day after, on Sunday, Joe came to me and said – “Kak, I texted her. She asked to meet me for dinner. I’m meeting her tonite. And I’m nervous as hell.”

I’m really happy for Joe. I don’t know how the date went yet. I’ll know about it tomorrow. I just hope that he’ll be able to accept whatever the outcome is. I kept reminding him to be ready for a letdown, to be strong when things didn’t go his way. And I also told him, if that were to happen, remember that Soulmates don't always end up together.

What amazes me of the whole situation is, I’ve never thought that a young man like Joe can have this love so great that it hurts him inside out. When he said that his heart felt like being stabbed everytime he thought of her, I was speechless. I thought these things only happened in movies.

I guess Nazareth was right – Love Hurts after all.

Fishing Déjà vu

We were looking for this Sports/Hobby shop in Bandar Sunway on Monday to get Dear Hubby his thermo guard wetsuit for his 3x/wk swimming exercises. We found it after 20 minutes spent searching thru the fierce rain.

Once I stepped into the shop, I was overwhelmed by a sense of familiarity. I was thinking – these things are so familiar, but what are they called? I couldn’t recall the names of the long poles, the round-thing behind the glass, the red&white globes and those things hanging from the wall. I stood there in awe, watching these things that used to be my companions. It took me quite a while... when suddenly all these vocabularies came flooding in - sinkers, jigheads, hooks, rods, reels, lures, lines, flies, rigs, floats, baits, swivels, Shimano, Penn, Daiwa, fighting belts etc etc.

You see, I used to love fishing. It was when I was in my early twenties studying in the States and lived a few blocks away from the North Pacific Ocean. Yeap, I was deep into fishing. You can call me a hardcore fishing enthusiast or Smelly Mackerel if you like..hahaha... but really, I was like that once. Every week, or whenever there was a vacant in my schedule, I’d go fishing with my buddies. On the pier, took a boat to the barge, or went deep-sea fishing at dawn and at dusk.

The best part of it all was when you got a nibble. It didn’t matter if you got to catch the fish or not. The joy of getting a nibble was enough to boost the spirit. And if you were lucky, the satisfaction of reeling the fish in was unexplainable. I remember catching Mackerels, Seabass, Sand Sharks, Barracudas, Snappers, Gelama (I forgot what Gelama is called in English), Halibuts and Stingrays. But Yellowtails were the real fighters, so I never did win them.

Fishing taught me to be patient - learn how to think positively and wait for the good to come. When you got your rod rigged, held the rod in your hand and began the waiting process. To breathe in the seabeeze, enjoy the sound of small waves, watch the birds in the sky and put a good song in your head really gave you the placidity of mind. And everything else didn’t matter.

Life was that simple.

It’s a fact that sometimes things that we once loved doing were forgotten along the journey of life we've taken. Things that we used to be passionate about and had become essential parts of the life we once lived. But when you stopped doing them altogether, you’d tend to forget about them in perfect total.

Anyway, now, I get my fish stock at the Pasar Tani. No more waiting for the nibblings and the undoing of the line tangles. Easy catch. Just show them the money and the fish sellers will gut and clean the fish for you. All you have to do when you get home is to re-clean them and cook them to your likings. Senang kan?

One thing for sure is - I don’t think I’ll ever fish again. I doubt if I still have the patience I once had. And I’m certain that my children’s screaming would definitely scare the poor fish away!

Giving in

It made me wonder why we have to give in to other people or digest whatever we actually dislike for the fear of being retaliated against.

It happened to me several times. The latest one was when Ayah, Hasya and I were watching Quantum of Solace at Cineleisure recently. Since it was a last minute decision, we just managed to get the front row seats for the 9pm show. Behind us were a group of young foreigners.

The movie was great, but we didn’t get to enjoy it. Why?

The youngsters made so much comments that I felt like gagging them with my shawl! They acted as if they were watching TV at home and made comments for every scene! And they didn’t even care to whisper. Isshhh!

They also pushed our seats with their feet. Ayah turned and warned one of the boys. When my seat was pushed, I did turn and asked the boy not to do it again. It stopped, but the racket continued. I told Ayah to just let go. We stayed till the end but the movie was already too stale to watch.

I didn’t want to find fault with the youngsters because I believed anything could happen. What if we pissed them off? The things that they might have done... I don’t want to go into that....

The other example is about the security people in my housing area. We paid RM30 to have them to patrol at night. They did their rounds... but these past few months we realized that the rounds became lesser. Ayah wanted to stop their service, but I disagreed. What if they wanted to teach us a lesson and did something to prove that we still need their services? It gave me the creeps just to think about it...

Take that RM30. The non-uniformed security people might say that’s the monthly payment for their services. But to me – that’s my Protection Money.

Maybe I was influenced by what I read in the newspapers. Maybe I worry too much. But I guess it’s ok to feel that way. Better safe than sorry.... And protecting our loved ones comes first.

Right?

Jannah's Story - How Lucky We Are

Every morning, I’d send Haziq and Husna to the Special School that both of them are attending. Teacher Jannah – an Iraqian - would always come to greet me and get my special ones out of the car. She’d always smile, give her Salam and we’d have a small chat before I left for my office. However, last Friday morning she looked rather sad. Her puffy eyelids showed that she must have came down with flu or something.

Teacher Jannah, you’re not feeling well, aren’t you?

I’m OK... it’s just that my Father passed away after Raya.

I was stunned. I lowered down the volume of my radio.

Innalillah.... How old was he and how did it happen?

He was 63. He had a stroke. He also had High Blood. But he reached the hospital quite late. You see, there were so many road blocks... here and there.....many, many road blocks.. so when he reached the hospital, it was too late...

That’s so sad... how’s your Mother?

She’s staying put. You know what, the situation in Iraq is really bad. My siblings all have High Blood. And they are very young. Younger than me.

Why is that?

You see, since when we were young, when we opened our eyes, we saw people die everywhere. We hear bombs everyday. Life’s very very stressful for all the Iraq people. That’s why Iraq people have many sickness at young age. The effect of the war.... Most of us are scared of aeroplanes. If we hear the sound of aeroplanes, we’ll be terrified... We just can't help it...

Why didn’t you bring him here?

He was coming here. I spoke to him in Ramadhan, he told me that he wanted to come to Malaysia. He came here once and he liked it. He said Malaysia was a very peaceful country. He said he’d get his papers ready. When he died, my mother was cleaning his things and saw his passport. Everything was already in order. He was actually coming here...

I couldn’t help it. Tears were welling there, waiting to fall... Jannah was also fighting back the tears.

It was never meant to be Jannah....

If only he could reach the hospital earlier.... Then InsyaAllah he’d live...

Jannah, Allah has fixed it all. All are fated. There must be a hikmah in all these. I just hope that you are OK and your mom, your siblings too...

Yes, I know. Thank you. I’ll pass a Quranic verses in CDs to all the Muslim parents on Monday. I hope you can listen to the CD and sedeqah to my Father..

OK, TQ Jannah. Let’s pray that things will get better in Iraq. Take care, OK?

I left the school with a heavy heart. Somehow I knew that I should be more thankful for what I have now. Maybe some of us, including me, take Malaysia for granted... and forget that we are truly blessed to be living in this Peaceful Land. Look at Jannah, this is an Iraqian who lives in Malaysia for 16 years with her family and feels very grateful for the serenity that our Tanah Air has to offer.

Like Jannah, we should count our blessings too... and try not to take things for granted, not only with our Tanah Air, but with all the good and bad things that we have....

Uban...

I have Uban!

That’s the depressing fact I came face to face this morning. No..no..no.. not Depressing.. let me make a correction to that. It was rather an Eye-Opening fact.

Yes, I know I’m in my 42nd year.. Yeah..yeah at this age, I am supposed to have uban. Don’t get me wrong, I’m always grateful to Allah for giving me this life that is full of love and laughters. And I’m always thankful for the blessings and challenges He bestows us because whatever good or bad, I always believe it’s forever for the best.

Anyway, back to the significant encounter I had this morning, since I’m short sighted, I’d just see my blurry reflection in the mirror everyday while combing my hair and put the compact powder on. I’d only see things clearer when I wore my glasses, which would only happen after I dabbed some lipstick and had my tudung on. No second glance in the mirror. Then off to work I’d go.

So there goes. I seldom looked at myself closely in the mirror. And I’ve never scrutinized my hair ... UNTIL this morning...

There they were - on the right side of my temple. Waiting to be greeted and seen by the owner... And I just couldn’t help myself – I burst out laughing!!

I’m officially older (and wiser) now, Thank You. Not that having more white hair will make a person wiser, but that's what I'll stick to at the moment.. LOL.. Although I’m not Anak AYAH in this category, since my father (AYAH) didn’t have uban until he was in his 60’s. People thought that he colored his hair. Little did they know that AYAH was/is just a Brylcream brand loyalist!

And just now I proudly show my uban to two of my girls.

Remember girls, see my uban? I am getting older and uban ni is the proof. So puhleeeez after this, no more fightings ok.. Kesian Ibu dah tua..

Hasya and Haifa looked at each other and touched my hair.....

OK Ibu, promise..

As if! But it’s the thought that counts, right? :)

**Sigh**

I’ve been an unofficial counselor to my friends since my high school days... And during those days it would forever be about relationships with boyfriends, bestfriends, boyfriends, bestfriends, studies, boyfriends and boyfriends... Talking about varieties :P

University days – not so much counseling there. My high school and AAD friends were scattered all around the globe and in those days only snail mails and telephones were the means of communications. Once in a while, I’d be getting late night phone calls and letters in my mailbox. Some sob stories here and there… which were mostly manageable.

Last night my maid Nani confided in me about the problem she’s having with her eldest son. Idul is 21 and has a girlfriend around his age. And very pregnant. With his child.

Since they’re from different religions, the girl’s willing to convert. Nani’s families & relatives in Indon have been trying to marry them off .. but the girl’s parents hated the idea. Despite umpteenth persuasions made, they still didn’t yield.

Nani was afraid they’d abort the baby. She warned the couple not to commit another sin.

I’ll take care of my grandchild. Just don’t kill the baby.

And now she’s uncertain about the fate of the unborn child. What if they decide to end the pregnancy?

Frankly, I didn’t know what to say to her. I just told her to ask her relatives to keep on pressuring the parents to allow the couple to get married. At least, for the sake of the baby.

Nani was worried, that I know. But it would’ve affected her even more if the girl were to be her daughter. Then the whole thing would be different. Chaos would only be used to describe it mildly...

Then I thought about GIRLS. My girls and other parents’ daughters. There’s only so much you can do with your children. Education - worldly or spiritually – love, protection and all kinds of supports can be served to them on the platter, but in the end, it’s still up to them to decide for themselves.

Teringat pepatah Melayu ”Menjaga lembu sekandang lebih mudah dari menjaga seorang anak perempuan..”

....sigh....