Over the last few years I have lost a number of essential but not necessarily treasured possessions. The latest was my multifocals with the retro-look frames, what I used to call my Saloma glasses. I must have dropped them somewhere in Kuala Terengganu last trip.
I've had them for yonks, ever since I had to use reading glasses. I didn't want to look like a granny at work so I had mulifocals made even though I had and still have perfect vision for long-distance.
Last week I had a replacement done, and it wasn't cheap. The optometrist who checked my eyes told me the power I now need for reading is extremely high - 275, 25 shy of a full-fledged magnifiying glass. Time I stop these late-night surfing before I have to start carrying one around like Mr. Sherlock Holmes.
Recently I had also lost... not physically, but the use of my shocking pink, senior-friendly Nokia. It had fonts huge enough that I could read text messages quite easily even without ye olde reading glasses.
It had fallen about four feet onto hard tiled floor from the banister at the bottom of the stairs where I had parked it. I hadn't expect anyone to want to talk to me at that hour but someone did and the phone fell when it started to ring and vibrate, spilling out it's gut - the battery.
From then on the casing couldn't latch properly and I kept losing the battery connection. So yesterday after I collected my new focals, I settled for a new Nokia C6-01 which also wasn't cheap but cost much less than the latest Blackberry or iPhone for which I had heard more than enough recommendations. It was an expensive day.
About 10 days ago I had also made another "replacement" purchase for something that I had lost to burglars in 2003. It was unplanned and unbudgeted for, but as most ladies have a fondness for accessories, more so the yellowy, shiny and gleaming kind, I blame the purchase on a moment of weakness.
Although I lament my loss to temptation, there is nevertheless that feeling of gratitude that I at least have the means, on a small scale at least, to indulge in my baser desires.
Yes it has been an expensive month so far.
But they are all wordly possessions... they do nothing to tip the "brownie point" scale in my favour.
What I should be guarding myself against, as a Muslim who is getting on in years, is the possible loss of faith and guidance in the remaining time that I have - could be days or could be decades.
And I should be stingy with what little measly credits I've managed to earn thus far since I can lose them all to some person that I have backbitten or wronged in any way, and that I shall be the receiver of all of that person's negative marks in return... This I think is from a hadith of the Prophet Muhammad SAW.
Most of us however, feel that a much greater loss is the passing away of someone you really love and respect wholeheartedly, in my family's case he is my Dad. It'll be 18 years this July 12th. Dad was the rock of the family, a stoic gentleman and a role model. He succumbed to pancreatic cancer at the age of 71.
You are irreplaceable, Dad. May Allah place you amongst the righteous..... Ameen
Showing posts with label Random Thoughts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Random Thoughts. Show all posts
Wednesday, 29 June 2011
Friday, 11 March 2011
I Am A Carbo Person
And I am carbo-overloaded.
Breakfast yesterday was oats with milk and sugar, and a mug of grapefruit juice straight from the box.
Lunch was 2 bungkus of nasi lemak with sambal and half a boiled egg, washed down with a tall nescafe iced.
Snacks were a sliced cheddar slapped between 2 slices of gardenia, and a packet of fried broad-beans.
Finally dinner consisted of rice, singgang ikan tenggiri, 4-5 bite-sized pieces of daging goreng, kangkong stir-fry.
BURRPPP.... oh. and my fill of plain water throughout the day.
Exercise was just some line-dancing routines - Besame Mucho, Pachanga Loco, Demi Cinta, Madu dan Racun, It's Now or Never - at least 2 rounds each.
Gotta crank it up later today with resistance training and cardios.
Dieting is out of the question.
Weight not budging yet... which figures...
Friday, 17 December 2010
Just A Post
There is "NOT" and there is "DOG"
Put the two together and you get
...oops
There is "TON" and there is "GOD"
Put the two together and you get
T.O.N.G.O.D
TONGOD
pronounced as TOW-NGOD
So what is TONGOD?
A junior Medical Officer in Sabah might know.
Is it a disease? Or what?
Clue...
AHA!!! It is a PLACE.
A very small town, if you can call it such.
Or just a post.
Population: seems like very few
The "pekan" consisting of a row of about 10 shops.
The MP must have done his job well - there is electricity - notice the street lamps.
And a Kelinik Kesihatan...
With staff quarters!
Put the two together and you get
...oops
There is "TON" and there is "GOD"
Put the two together and you get
T.O.N.G.O.D
TONGOD
pronounced as TOW-NGOD
So what is TONGOD?
A junior Medical Officer in Sabah might know.
Is it a disease? Or what?
Clue...
AHA!!! It is a PLACE.
A very small town, if you can call it such.
Or just a post.
Population: seems like very few
The "pekan" consisting of a row of about 10 shops.
The MP must have done his job well - there is electricity - notice the street lamps.
And a Kelinik Kesihatan...
With staff quarters!
My son Amin the MO, just out of housemanship, says he is very happy to be posted here.
TONGOD, smack in the centre of Sabah - 2 hours from Sandakan by proper road (not dirt track).
Again, Good Job, MP!
Are those telephone lines? But whatever, MAXIS connection is ultra loud and clear.
Here is a map of Sabah. Tongod is not even shown but it is 50km away from the nearest civilisation which is Telupid.
Go for it Amin. Serve the villagers here sincerely and professionally.
You won't regret it, Insya Allah...
Dr Amin
Tuesday, 14 December 2010
Up Terengganu Way
This time last year when we drove home from a short holiday in Terengganu, we took the less popular jungle route that passes through the new township of Bandar Al Muktafi Billah Shah. I remember that this route was not very well maintained some stretches of which were clearly marked as dangerous. Our GPS very frequently warned us about school zones, hence to slow down. I lamented about the yet to be completed Terengganu section of the new East Coast Expressway (ECE).
Last weekend we had occasion to be in Kuala Terengganu (KT) again and this time we returned via the more scenic coastal road; the expressway still uncompleted. This route takes us through the more developed areas of Terengganu which naturally offer more pit-stop possibilities than the other one. However, as soon as we entered the district of Dungun, we had to contend with endless traffic light intersections from Bukit Baok all the way to Kemaman near the Pahang border. I counted altogether not less than 23 such junctions, which make for a very slow drive indeed. It took us 7 hours from KT inclusive of a Kopi O and Roti Kaya break at the famous Kedai Kopi Hai Peng in Kemaman, and a prayer break at Gambang R&R. The drive on the ECE portion from Gambang to Subang was a mere 2 hours only.
Next May school-holidays we'll be making the trip again. I wonder if the Terengganu section of the ECE will be completed by then. I hope so but then again I don't think so. It'll be yet another super long tiring drive but one which we will have to make. My no. 3, Adeen aka Amal the airline pilot, will be getting married then.
Last weekend he and his sweetheart, Cikgu Akma, were engaged.
I'M GOING TO BE A MOM-IN-LAW!!!
..............
Last weekend we had occasion to be in Kuala Terengganu (KT) again and this time we returned via the more scenic coastal road; the expressway still uncompleted. This route takes us through the more developed areas of Terengganu which naturally offer more pit-stop possibilities than the other one. However, as soon as we entered the district of Dungun, we had to contend with endless traffic light intersections from Bukit Baok all the way to Kemaman near the Pahang border. I counted altogether not less than 23 such junctions, which make for a very slow drive indeed. It took us 7 hours from KT inclusive of a Kopi O and Roti Kaya break at the famous Kedai Kopi Hai Peng in Kemaman, and a prayer break at Gambang R&R. The drive on the ECE portion from Gambang to Subang was a mere 2 hours only.
Next May school-holidays we'll be making the trip again. I wonder if the Terengganu section of the ECE will be completed by then. I hope so but then again I don't think so. It'll be yet another super long tiring drive but one which we will have to make. My no. 3, Adeen aka Amal the airline pilot, will be getting married then.
Last weekend he and his sweetheart, Cikgu Akma, were engaged.
I'M GOING TO BE A MOM-IN-LAW!!!
..............
Thursday, 14 October 2010
Tollways
The paths of least resistance are fraught with toll plazas.
If you live where I do, tolls are a pain in the purse. You become adept at seeking routes that avoid them, often as the situation presents itself, unless of course you ride a motorbike, because you get free passage through these plazas, even if you are a rich Singaporean and ride one of those SUPER bikes..
And that's why sometimes, especially in the wedding season, you see convoys of kapchai bikes conquering the lanes of these tolled expressways, reducing them to paths of havoc and danger. When approaching these swarms, you carefully overtake them but still keep an eye on the mirrors in case someone decides to make a go at becoming the leader of the pack and overtakes everbody, including yourself, at top speed.
Once while driving on the fast lane I saw a rider speeding on the road shoulder simultaneously talking with his pal who was on another motorbike on the slow lane, both of then not noticing a car parked a few yards ahead. The inevitable happened; he was flung 10 feet into the air, his friend skidded on the road. We drove on, somewhat traumatised by the scene, me thinking about their mothers... and also that had we been a few minutes later we might have gotten stuck in the ensuing jam.
Yup, sometimes I'm nasty that way.
We would expect roads we pay to use to be relatively safe and the traffic smooth-flowing. But there had been countless times in my experience where traffic basically came to a standstill - on the fast lane. Most often on the inter-city expressways these are due to accidents, be they major or minor.
However on those that criss-cross the Klang Valley, a crawl can be due to no reason at all - just a humongous build-up of traffic - especially on Friday evenings. But some people still pay these dreadfully expensive toll charges because doing the "normal" roads is even more exasperating.
To get to my housing area in USJ Subang Jaya, if you come from the Ampang side you pay a total of RM4.40 at two toll plazes on the KESAS. If from Kampong Pandan or Bukit Bintang, you may want to get on the MEX and then join the KESAS at Bukit Jalil. You'll have to pay an extra RM1.50 though on top of the RM4.40.
From the Damasara/TTDI area you use the LDP and exit at Sunway without paying toll and then join the Kewajipan mandatory jam. Or you can proceed further, pay RM1.60 before joining the KESAS and paying a further RM2.20, for an earlier arrival.
If from KL Jalan TAR area, you can make your way to the NPE in Bangsar, pay RM1.60 each at two toll plazas, exit at the Sunway Pyramid and join the *Kewajipan mandatory jam. Or you could exit on the LDP and then join KESAS as above.
From Damansara Heights or Kiara, you can use the Kerinchi Link - pay RM1.50 - then proceed to the NPE via Jalan Gasing PJ and pay RM1.60 at the Subang Jaya toll plaza and then decide whether to join Kewajipan and its crawl or use LDP and KESAS.
From Shah Alam you pay RM1.00 on the Federal Highway or.. surprise, surprise... nothing on the KESAS. But from Klang and Banting, you'll have to pay a certain amount near the Jalan Kebun exit.
As you can see, the charges are exhorbitant. Many brave the jams each morning and evening sacrificing a few hours of time to save about RM200 every month.
But for me as a retiree and not having to commute on a daily basis, I figure spending some ringgit on tolls do not make me any less poorer than I am, or make me any richer... when I do not spend.
No resistance from me on using the paths of least resistance.
But I do have to submit to the **Summit choke-up each time I venture out of my haven.
Note:
* Kewajipan - is the road in Subang Jaya notorious for it's jams - they say "wajib jam" (jam is mandatory)
** Summit - the road opposite the Summit Hotel on Jalan Kewajipan where the jam for outgoing traffic is at it's summit, so to speak
If you live where I do, tolls are a pain in the purse. You become adept at seeking routes that avoid them, often as the situation presents itself, unless of course you ride a motorbike, because you get free passage through these plazas, even if you are a rich Singaporean and ride one of those SUPER bikes..
And that's why sometimes, especially in the wedding season, you see convoys of kapchai bikes conquering the lanes of these tolled expressways, reducing them to paths of havoc and danger. When approaching these swarms, you carefully overtake them but still keep an eye on the mirrors in case someone decides to make a go at becoming the leader of the pack and overtakes everbody, including yourself, at top speed.
Once while driving on the fast lane I saw a rider speeding on the road shoulder simultaneously talking with his pal who was on another motorbike on the slow lane, both of then not noticing a car parked a few yards ahead. The inevitable happened; he was flung 10 feet into the air, his friend skidded on the road. We drove on, somewhat traumatised by the scene, me thinking about their mothers... and also that had we been a few minutes later we might have gotten stuck in the ensuing jam.
Yup, sometimes I'm nasty that way.
We would expect roads we pay to use to be relatively safe and the traffic smooth-flowing. But there had been countless times in my experience where traffic basically came to a standstill - on the fast lane. Most often on the inter-city expressways these are due to accidents, be they major or minor.
However on those that criss-cross the Klang Valley, a crawl can be due to no reason at all - just a humongous build-up of traffic - especially on Friday evenings. But some people still pay these dreadfully expensive toll charges because doing the "normal" roads is even more exasperating.
To get to my housing area in USJ Subang Jaya, if you come from the Ampang side you pay a total of RM4.40 at two toll plazes on the KESAS. If from Kampong Pandan or Bukit Bintang, you may want to get on the MEX and then join the KESAS at Bukit Jalil. You'll have to pay an extra RM1.50 though on top of the RM4.40.
From the Damasara/TTDI area you use the LDP and exit at Sunway without paying toll and then join the Kewajipan mandatory jam. Or you can proceed further, pay RM1.60 before joining the KESAS and paying a further RM2.20, for an earlier arrival.
If from KL Jalan TAR area, you can make your way to the NPE in Bangsar, pay RM1.60 each at two toll plazas, exit at the Sunway Pyramid and join the *Kewajipan mandatory jam. Or you could exit on the LDP and then join KESAS as above.
From Damansara Heights or Kiara, you can use the Kerinchi Link - pay RM1.50 - then proceed to the NPE via Jalan Gasing PJ and pay RM1.60 at the Subang Jaya toll plaza and then decide whether to join Kewajipan and its crawl or use LDP and KESAS.
From Shah Alam you pay RM1.00 on the Federal Highway or.. surprise, surprise... nothing on the KESAS. But from Klang and Banting, you'll have to pay a certain amount near the Jalan Kebun exit.
As you can see, the charges are exhorbitant. Many brave the jams each morning and evening sacrificing a few hours of time to save about RM200 every month.
But for me as a retiree and not having to commute on a daily basis, I figure spending some ringgit on tolls do not make me any less poorer than I am, or make me any richer... when I do not spend.
No resistance from me on using the paths of least resistance.
But I do have to submit to the **Summit choke-up each time I venture out of my haven.
Note:
* Kewajipan - is the road in Subang Jaya notorious for it's jams - they say "wajib jam" (jam is mandatory)
** Summit - the road opposite the Summit Hotel on Jalan Kewajipan where the jam for outgoing traffic is at it's summit, so to speak
Sunday, 26 September 2010
Culture Overload
I may be wrong but it seems to me that other than the occasional exchanges by Facebookers (where I live now), pantuns are used only at Malay wedding receptions. By that I mean they are not heard at Chinese or Indian or Punjabi or even Mamak/Mami weddings. I mean, isn't that not a shame because even with this One-Malaysia and Bahasa Rasmi Kebangsaan jazzmatazz and all the public exams being in Malay, pantuns are never ever recited in speeches at non-Malay weddings.
I must admit I hadn't been invited to that many but on those occasions that I had and attended, I counted myself lucky to hear a cursory "Salam Sejahtera" and "Selamat Malam". How come that we can pepper English quotations and proverbs into everyday speak so seamlessly like pieces-a-cake, but not be able to use a little bit of the official language at family functions and gatherings?
Dari mana punai melayang
Dari sawah turun ke padi
Dari mana datangnya sayang
Dari mata turun ke hati
That's my pantun for this blog entry (in case I get accused of being the pot calling the kettle black).
As per the pantun above, it's saying that when the attraction has moved from the eyes to the heart, we get a situation called "love" (sayang). And if the stars and planets in the heavens above are aligned in the right constellation, the situation might end in a marriage between the love-struck pair, God-willing. In most cases a marriage is preceded by an engagement ceremony where the wedding date is formally agreed upon, also the gifts and expenses.
Berapa tinggi pucuk pisang
Tinggi lagi asap api
Berapa tinggi Gunung Ledang
Tinggi lagi harap kami
The engagement period can be from a few months to as long as a year, but the shortest I have witnessed is ONE HOUR! This happened recently at a charming wedding ceremony I was invited to. The bride is still studying overseas and is on her summer break whilst the groom fresh out of university. Although it was just a formality prior to the actual wedding that took place a while later, it gave the MC of the day the opportunity to show off his amazing repertoire of engagement pantuns - which was why the engagement was one-hour long, come to think of it.
In fact both the engagement and the wedding ceremonies went flawlessly at the hands of this MC. A lawyer by profession, he undertook to represent both parties, the bride as well as the groom (at his job he probably is involved in Property Sales and Purchase), reciting pantuns on behalf of one and then the other. Honestly neither party had to say anything at all save for the groom's spokesman stating their intention "niat kami dipertandakan dengan seutas cincin ini buat Cik Gegirl" for the engagement. As the cameras flashed while the groom's mother put the ring on Gegirl's finger, Mr MC went about his pantun recitations.
Daun selasih daun semulih
Pohon pinang jambatan mandi
Mari kita bertambat kasih
Kasih ku pinang mengikat janji
The Tok Kadi (religious officer) then arrived and proceeded with the Khutbah Nikah (Wedding Sermon) at the invitation of Mr MC. It wasn't a long one since the Kadi had another wedding to officiate, and to make matters go like clockwork, the groom got his lafaz nikah (verbal statement/pledge) right the first time. When the formalities were over and with bride and groom doing and re-doing their pengantin (newly-weds) rituals for the cameras, Mr MC recited more and more pantuns.
Yes indeed it was a well-orchestrated ceremony, simple, no hitches, no long-winded speeches, no gaffes, no stammers, stutters, no jokes, just seemingly endless pantuns. To Boboy and Gegirl, yours is the wedding I will remember for a long time, semoga bahagia hingga ke anak cucu (may you be blessed with happiness even when you have grandchildren). As in the words of Saloma's evergreen:
Malaysians of other races when considering using pantuns, just two or three should do nicely. Otherwise it can be an overkill.... a culture overload.
Angin barat gelombang utara,
Tinggi petak dari ruang;
Jangan diharap semacam saya,
Budi tiada bahasa pun kurang
oooops.... I had meant to use only one pantun
I must admit I hadn't been invited to that many but on those occasions that I had and attended, I counted myself lucky to hear a cursory "Salam Sejahtera" and "Selamat Malam". How come that we can pepper English quotations and proverbs into everyday speak so seamlessly like pieces-a-cake, but not be able to use a little bit of the official language at family functions and gatherings?
Dari mana punai melayang
Dari sawah turun ke padi
Dari mana datangnya sayang
Dari mata turun ke hati
That's my pantun for this blog entry (in case I get accused of being the pot calling the kettle black).
As per the pantun above, it's saying that when the attraction has moved from the eyes to the heart, we get a situation called "love" (sayang). And if the stars and planets in the heavens above are aligned in the right constellation, the situation might end in a marriage between the love-struck pair, God-willing. In most cases a marriage is preceded by an engagement ceremony where the wedding date is formally agreed upon, also the gifts and expenses.
Berapa tinggi pucuk pisang
Tinggi lagi asap api
Berapa tinggi Gunung Ledang
Tinggi lagi harap kami
The engagement period can be from a few months to as long as a year, but the shortest I have witnessed is ONE HOUR! This happened recently at a charming wedding ceremony I was invited to. The bride is still studying overseas and is on her summer break whilst the groom fresh out of university. Although it was just a formality prior to the actual wedding that took place a while later, it gave the MC of the day the opportunity to show off his amazing repertoire of engagement pantuns - which was why the engagement was one-hour long, come to think of it.
In fact both the engagement and the wedding ceremonies went flawlessly at the hands of this MC. A lawyer by profession, he undertook to represent both parties, the bride as well as the groom (at his job he probably is involved in Property Sales and Purchase), reciting pantuns on behalf of one and then the other. Honestly neither party had to say anything at all save for the groom's spokesman stating their intention "niat kami dipertandakan dengan seutas cincin ini buat Cik Gegirl" for the engagement. As the cameras flashed while the groom's mother put the ring on Gegirl's finger, Mr MC went about his pantun recitations.
Daun selasih daun semulih
Pohon pinang jambatan mandi
Mari kita bertambat kasih
Kasih ku pinang mengikat janji
The Tok Kadi (religious officer) then arrived and proceeded with the Khutbah Nikah (Wedding Sermon) at the invitation of Mr MC. It wasn't a long one since the Kadi had another wedding to officiate, and to make matters go like clockwork, the groom got his lafaz nikah (verbal statement/pledge) right the first time. When the formalities were over and with bride and groom doing and re-doing their pengantin (newly-weds) rituals for the cameras, Mr MC recited more and more pantuns.
| Ikan di laut asam di darat Dalam kuali bertemu jua Hati terpaut janji diikat Atas pelamin bertemu jua |
| Orang jauh dikenang-kenang Hanya terkenang pada yang satu Mula berkenal kemudian bertunang Diatas pelamin sama bersatu |
| Panas kering siapakan tahu Hujan rintik di daun pandan Berjalan seiring bersentuh bahu Sama cantik sama padan |
| Tuan puteri tersenyum-senyum Melihat laksamana bermain rodat Senyum-senyum jangan tak senyum Sudah sempurna segala adat |
| Pergi berzanji di pekan pagoh Beli sekati ikan senohong Sudah berjanji bersetia tegoh Jangan dimungkiri bercakap bohong |
| Dengarlah ini ayah berpesan Anak menantu, ayah ingatkan Berkasih sayang sesama insan Jangan cepat menjadi bosan |
| Di malam hari terang senegeri Bulan purnama dihujung julai Majlis gahari bertambah seri Menyambut kedatangan kedua mempelai |
| Amat garang datuk bentara Musuh melanggar habis dibenam Dulu seorang kini berdua Hidup bersama susah senang |
Yes indeed it was a well-orchestrated ceremony, simple, no hitches, no long-winded speeches, no gaffes, no stammers, stutters, no jokes, just seemingly endless pantuns. To Boboy and Gegirl, yours is the wedding I will remember for a long time, semoga bahagia hingga ke anak cucu (may you be blessed with happiness even when you have grandchildren). As in the words of Saloma's evergreen:
Malaysians of other races when considering using pantuns, just two or three should do nicely. Otherwise it can be an overkill.... a culture overload.
Angin barat gelombang utara,
Tinggi petak dari ruang;
Jangan diharap semacam saya,
Budi tiada bahasa pun kurang
oooops.... I had meant to use only one pantun
Wednesday, 8 September 2010
Let The Sun Shine In
Like all good Muslim households in Malaysia, be it in the towns, kampongs or in the sprawling surburbia of the Klang Valley, come end of Ramadhan we start sprucing up our homes for the Raya or Eid celebrations.
It's mainly because during Raya we would be receiving little guests and the not-so-little yet-to-be-employed guests who have come to collect their little gift-packets of money.
But more importantly we would be welcoming guests who have come to wish us peace and ask forgiveness for past incursions. It is a beautiful thing really, as this act of forgiving is almost always mutually rendered.
So we tidy up the house or even give it a paint job because at least if the house is clean and pretty, we will be actually preventing our guests from committing another wrong: that of their hearts whispering negatives about our house maintenance.
We want to lay out our best tablecloths and china for them and serve them good wholesome Raya dishes too, we honour them so their hearts whisper positives about our hospitality.
This mutual forgiving seems to be the practice at Hari Raya in this part of the world and which can be somewhat cleansing too... spiritually, depending on one's sincerity of course.
Like yesterday, when I was having all the drapes in the living-room laundered, that "heart" of the house (according to Feng Shui) looked so cheery with the sunshine flooding in and the gentle breezes wafting through, I didn't feel like having the curtains hung up again.
And I began to think, that's just how our own hearts are. We clothe our bodies as appropriate, but if we still veil our hearts, Ramadhan "cleansing" becomes superficial, just on the outside, the practices just rituals, maybe we had just chalked up "brownie points" for going through the motions only, for the quantity but not the quality.
Actually I meant "me", not you... because I know most of the time my heart needs to be aired, needs to be de-veiled, needs to be dusted and cleansed.... so that the light may shine through
That light that brightens our hearts, that make us reachable, and teachable, accepting, and forgiving, etc.
The light that cleanses...
But how?
That is the question.
Let the sun shine in. De-veil. Or be-deviled.
It's mainly because during Raya we would be receiving little guests and the not-so-little yet-to-be-employed guests who have come to collect their little gift-packets of money.
But more importantly we would be welcoming guests who have come to wish us peace and ask forgiveness for past incursions. It is a beautiful thing really, as this act of forgiving is almost always mutually rendered.
So we tidy up the house or even give it a paint job because at least if the house is clean and pretty, we will be actually preventing our guests from committing another wrong: that of their hearts whispering negatives about our house maintenance.
We want to lay out our best tablecloths and china for them and serve them good wholesome Raya dishes too, we honour them so their hearts whisper positives about our hospitality.
This mutual forgiving seems to be the practice at Hari Raya in this part of the world and which can be somewhat cleansing too... spiritually, depending on one's sincerity of course.
Like yesterday, when I was having all the drapes in the living-room laundered, that "heart" of the house (according to Feng Shui) looked so cheery with the sunshine flooding in and the gentle breezes wafting through, I didn't feel like having the curtains hung up again.
And I began to think, that's just how our own hearts are. We clothe our bodies as appropriate, but if we still veil our hearts, Ramadhan "cleansing" becomes superficial, just on the outside, the practices just rituals, maybe we had just chalked up "brownie points" for going through the motions only, for the quantity but not the quality.
Actually I meant "me", not you... because I know most of the time my heart needs to be aired, needs to be de-veiled, needs to be dusted and cleansed.... so that the light may shine through
That light that brightens our hearts, that make us reachable, and teachable, accepting, and forgiving, etc.
The light that cleanses...
But how?
That is the question.
Let the sun shine in. De-veil. Or be-deviled.
To all Muslims
Eid Mubarak, Selamat Hari Raya, Mohon Maaf Zahir dan Batin
Saturday, 7 August 2010
Good Romance
I feel like listening to Nat King Cole tonight. I doubt anyone below 50 years would know of this man, a black American who made it big as a singer/musician in the 40's through 60's. It was said he had "a distinctive voice, which has been compared to the quality of velvet, a pussy willow, a calm evening breeze, a still summer morning and a soft snow fall".
Nat wasn't terribly handsome but in those days of radio, voice mattered much more than looks - unlike today of course, you've got to be packaged right. Just lend him your ears and tell me if his voice doesn't make you gooey inside.
(Sometimes Mixpod refuses to load - so just right-click/open new tab on the "music" button to listen)
If I Give My Heart To You
These were the songs of a bygone era - the age of innocence - so they say. The lyrics so sugary sweet and "romantic"? Can we describe any of todays song lyrics by such a word?
Take this snippet from Lady Gaga's "Bad Romance"
Nat wasn't terribly handsome but in those days of radio, voice mattered much more than looks - unlike today of course, you've got to be packaged right. Just lend him your ears and tell me if his voice doesn't make you gooey inside.
(Sometimes Mixpod refuses to load - so just right-click/open new tab on the "music" button to listen)
If I Give My Heart To You
If I give my heart to you Will you handle it with care? Will you always treat me tenderly? And in every way be fair?
If I give my heart to you Will you give me all your love? Will you swear that you'll be true to me? By the light that shines above?
And will you sigh with me when I'm sad? Smile with me when I'm glad? And always be as you are with me tonight?
Think it over and be sure Please don't answer till you do When you promise all these things to me Then I'll give my heart to youThink it over and be sure Please don't answer till you do When you promise all these things to me Then I'll give my heart to you
Take this snippet from Lady Gaga's "Bad Romance"
I want your psycho Your vertical stick(???)
Want you in my room When your baby is sick I want your love Love-love-love I want your love Love-love-love I want your love
What a cheek to put the word "Romance" in the song-title!
Anyway, I'm in the mood for mush tonight....
Anyway, I'm in the mood for mush tonight....
Blue Moon
You saw me standing alone Without a dream in my heart Without a love of my own Blue Moon You knew just what I was there for You heard me saying a prayer for Someone I really could care for And then there suddenly appeared before me The only one my arms will (ever) hold I heard somebody whisper please adore me And when I looked to the Moon it turned to gold Blue Moon Now I'm no longer alone Without a dream in my heart Without a love of my own And then there suddenly appeared before me The only one my arms will ever hold I heard somebody whisper please adore me And when I looked the Moon had turned to gold Blue moon Now I'm no longer alone Without a dream in my heart Without a love of my own Blue moon Now I'm no longer alone Without a dream in my heart Without a love of my own
________________________________________
Thursday, 22 July 2010
Big Business
An unemployed man applies for the position of a toilet-cleaner at Microsoft...
which reminds me...
of my recent visit to Kuala Terengganu and Kapas Island with my children, where we encounterd the whole gamut of toileting fashions, from the luxurious at the hotel in Kuala Terengganu, to the normal sit-down at Captain's Longhouse on Pulau Kapas and the amazing hole-in-the-floorboards style at Awi's Yellowhouse on Pulau Duyong...
Honestly.... it was a perfect round-shape cut into the floorboards of an open-air bathroom.
Awi's Yellowhouse is a rustic budget-class digs built on a wooden platform structure on the banks of the Terengganu River. A number of thatch-roofed huts on the platform make up the guest-accomodation, ranging from double rooms, to single quarters and a dorm.
There is a basic kitchen where guests can fix a simple meal but what's quaint is that the bathroom is kampong-style of the sixties - with only a shower fixture and a hole in the floor for the water, etc to drain into the river below. I remember my grandfather's kampong house which had a large bathroom in almost similar design where privacy was provided by just the four walls and your batik or pelikat sarong - no roof. Almost similar because it was a little more modern, set on ground level, with cement floor and yes, decent drainage.
Anyway Awi Yellowhouse is where my third son Azeim is putting up while he undergoes his internship with a couple of boatbuilders there. When we visited, the place was clean and tidy and the evening air was breezy from the sea.
We met Azizah and her crew who were on long-term stay while supervising the construction of their vessels; last I heard Azeim is having a whale of a time in the company of these sea-farer types. I hope he remembers to learn from them as well.
Oh yes, back to the unemployed man who applies for the position of a toilet-cleaner at Microsoft...
He is interviewed by the HR Chief and subjected to a battery of employment tests.
The HR Chief tells him: Congratulations, you got the job! Just give me your e-mail address so that I can send you an employment package and let you know when to start work.
The man is distraught…
He has no choice but to tell the HR Chief that he has no computer and therefore no e-mail.
The HR Chief tells him that, if he has no e-mail address, he virtually does not exist and therefore cannot hold a job.
The man leaves in a desperate mood. He is down to his last $10 with no job in sight. He sees a supermarket and decides to buy a 10 lb box of strawberries.
He starts out making door to door calls , selling those strawberries by the pound. Within 2 hours, he manages to double his capital. He repeats the deal 3 times more and goes home with $60 in his pocket.
He comes to see that he can survive this way.
He starts every day earlier and goes home later every day, tripling or quadrupling his money every day.
Before long, he buys a wheelbarrow so he can buy and sell more strawberries. After a while, he is able to buy a truck and eventually becomes the owner of a fleet of delivery trucks with several employees working for him.
He adds other produce items to his deliveries.
5 years go by…
The man is now the owner of one of the largest food chains in the United States.
He starts thinking about the future for him and his family and decides to buy some life insurance. He calls an agent and selects a good policy. The agent asks him for his e-mail address to send him a confirmation of the policy.
The man tells him that he doesn’t have an e-mail address!
That is incredible, says the agent. You have no e-mail but you built this large empire! Can you imagine where you would be if you had an e-mail address?
The man briefly thinks and then answers:
I WOULD BE A TOILET CLEANER AT MICROSOFT!
Moral 1 of the story:
The internet does not solve all the problems in our lives!
Moral 2 of the story:
When you have no e-mail but work hard, you can become a millionaire!
Moral 3 of the story: You received this story by e-mail/internet. Therefore you are closer to cleaning toilets than to being a millionaire!
Finally, did The Beatles have e-mail?
which reminds me...
of my recent visit to Kuala Terengganu and Kapas Island with my children, where we encounterd the whole gamut of toileting fashions, from the luxurious at the hotel in Kuala Terengganu, to the normal sit-down at Captain's Longhouse on Pulau Kapas and the amazing hole-in-the-floorboards style at Awi's Yellowhouse on Pulau Duyong...
Honestly.... it was a perfect round-shape cut into the floorboards of an open-air bathroom.
Awi's Yellowhouse is a rustic budget-class digs built on a wooden platform structure on the banks of the Terengganu River. A number of thatch-roofed huts on the platform make up the guest-accomodation, ranging from double rooms, to single quarters and a dorm.
There is a basic kitchen where guests can fix a simple meal but what's quaint is that the bathroom is kampong-style of the sixties - with only a shower fixture and a hole in the floor for the water, etc to drain into the river below. I remember my grandfather's kampong house which had a large bathroom in almost similar design where privacy was provided by just the four walls and your batik or pelikat sarong - no roof. Almost similar because it was a little more modern, set on ground level, with cement floor and yes, decent drainage.
Anyway Awi Yellowhouse is where my third son Azeim is putting up while he undergoes his internship with a couple of boatbuilders there. When we visited, the place was clean and tidy and the evening air was breezy from the sea.
We met Azizah and her crew who were on long-term stay while supervising the construction of their vessels; last I heard Azeim is having a whale of a time in the company of these sea-farer types. I hope he remembers to learn from them as well.
Oh yes, back to the unemployed man who applies for the position of a toilet-cleaner at Microsoft...
He is interviewed by the HR Chief and subjected to a battery of employment tests.
The HR Chief tells him: Congratulations, you got the job! Just give me your e-mail address so that I can send you an employment package and let you know when to start work.
The man is distraught…
He has no choice but to tell the HR Chief that he has no computer and therefore no e-mail.
The HR Chief tells him that, if he has no e-mail address, he virtually does not exist and therefore cannot hold a job.
The man leaves in a desperate mood. He is down to his last $10 with no job in sight. He sees a supermarket and decides to buy a 10 lb box of strawberries.
He starts out making door to door calls , selling those strawberries by the pound. Within 2 hours, he manages to double his capital. He repeats the deal 3 times more and goes home with $60 in his pocket.
He comes to see that he can survive this way.
He starts every day earlier and goes home later every day, tripling or quadrupling his money every day.
Before long, he buys a wheelbarrow so he can buy and sell more strawberries. After a while, he is able to buy a truck and eventually becomes the owner of a fleet of delivery trucks with several employees working for him.
He adds other produce items to his deliveries.
5 years go by…
The man is now the owner of one of the largest food chains in the United States.
He starts thinking about the future for him and his family and decides to buy some life insurance. He calls an agent and selects a good policy. The agent asks him for his e-mail address to send him a confirmation of the policy.
The man tells him that he doesn’t have an e-mail address!
That is incredible, says the agent. You have no e-mail but you built this large empire! Can you imagine where you would be if you had an e-mail address?
The man briefly thinks and then answers:
I WOULD BE A TOILET CLEANER AT MICROSOFT!
Moral 1 of the story:
The internet does not solve all the problems in our lives!
Moral 2 of the story:
When you have no e-mail but work hard, you can become a millionaire!
Moral 3 of the story: You received this story by e-mail/internet. Therefore you are closer to cleaning toilets than to being a millionaire!
Finally, did The Beatles have e-mail?
Sunday, 18 July 2010
Identity Crisis
Kids at boarding schools love to call one another by nicknames. Some of these describe the kid to a T, like Jimok (gemok), or Bear (big-sized) or Kepeng (flat) or Gori (like a gorilla) while others are a corruption or a shortened version of the kid's real name like Ep, Harry, Tilot, Syiro, some are even called by their father's or grandfather's names!
What the heck, even adults love nicknames, especially those living in the blogosphera. In the non-sopo precinct where I frequent it's interesting to note that men tend to use an address before their names, either Pak this or Uncle that or Captain this or Dr that, as well as they are not adversed to being thought of as old, as in Old Stock, or Ol Rascal...
Whereas the ladies are more creative in giving themselves pretty names like... ahem... zendra, kay-leeda, desert rose, or mamasita, even just kama. Some refer to themselves as someone's mom, or elder sister or even declare themselves as being of the feline family, either tame or wild. But very few have taken to call themselves Makcik this or Aunty that... (is Mek young or old by the way?)
It's just so typical, isn't it? Men generally have an inherent need to be addressed as persons of seniority hence authority, and women mostly are just not that bothered. Nevertheless I cannot now fathom why I chose such a frivolous-sounding name for myself, maybe I did not know then that I would last this long blogging or that I would meet up with any of you blogotizens out in the real world, let alone hear myself being addressed as Zendra or Zen. It's even more awkward when I get introduced to other people by that name - in those instances I was able to establish eye contact and smile, but not able at all to say "Hi, nice to meet you. I'm Zendra", because in the real world I AM NOT Zendra.
Mat Bangkai transitioned to Sofian Boe very smoothly - at the same time revealing a picture of himself (a far cry from a bangkai is he and hardly a mamat). Like him, many others have their real world names on Facebook but not me - mine is "Zendy Zee"! My myriad nieces and nephews as well as siblings are already used to that, when they asked why Zendra, or Zendy Zee, I answered why not?
So my question is when next I meet you guys out on terra firma, will you be comfortable calling me Mariah or would you still insist on Zendra, or Zen or Kak Zen? Willmie Jalius aka Pak Tuo refers to me as Kak Mariah outside and Kak Z in here, but he's a cousin once removed, it's quite easy for him. Red Alfa and I, we sometimes forget where we are.
You know, someone said (was it Harun Yahya?) that life on this earth is a dream WE control - the Hereafter being the true world, real and everlasting; but for bloggers and facebookers and the like, have we (or at least me) have we set ourselves up in yet another unreality, simply by virtue of a nickname, a persona (like a pirate)?Yew You figure.
(Don't mind her, Zendra's just rambling... and wondering what her name in that everlasting world might be)
What the heck, even adults love nicknames, especially those living in the blogosphera. In the non-sopo precinct where I frequent it's interesting to note that men tend to use an address before their names, either Pak this or Uncle that or Captain this or Dr that, as well as they are not adversed to being thought of as old, as in Old Stock, or Ol Rascal...
Whereas the ladies are more creative in giving themselves pretty names like... ahem... zendra, kay-leeda, desert rose, or mamasita, even just kama. Some refer to themselves as someone's mom, or elder sister or even declare themselves as being of the feline family, either tame or wild. But very few have taken to call themselves Makcik this or Aunty that... (is Mek young or old by the way?)
It's just so typical, isn't it? Men generally have an inherent need to be addressed as persons of seniority hence authority, and women mostly are just not that bothered. Nevertheless I cannot now fathom why I chose such a frivolous-sounding name for myself, maybe I did not know then that I would last this long blogging or that I would meet up with any of you blogotizens out in the real world, let alone hear myself being addressed as Zendra or Zen. It's even more awkward when I get introduced to other people by that name - in those instances I was able to establish eye contact and smile, but not able at all to say "Hi, nice to meet you. I'm Zendra", because in the real world I AM NOT Zendra.
Mat Bangkai transitioned to Sofian Boe very smoothly - at the same time revealing a picture of himself (a far cry from a bangkai is he and hardly a mamat). Like him, many others have their real world names on Facebook but not me - mine is "Zendy Zee"! My myriad nieces and nephews as well as siblings are already used to that, when they asked why Zendra, or Zendy Zee, I answered why not?
So my question is when next I meet you guys out on terra firma, will you be comfortable calling me Mariah or would you still insist on Zendra, or Zen or Kak Zen? Willmie Jalius aka Pak Tuo refers to me as Kak Mariah outside and Kak Z in here, but he's a cousin once removed, it's quite easy for him. Red Alfa and I, we sometimes forget where we are.
You know, someone said (was it Harun Yahya?) that life on this earth is a dream WE control - the Hereafter being the true world, real and everlasting; but for bloggers and facebookers and the like, have we (or at least me) have we set ourselves up in yet another unreality, simply by virtue of a nickname, a persona (like a pirate)?
(Don't mind her, Zendra's just rambling... and wondering what her name in that everlasting world might be)
Saturday, 26 June 2010
World Cup Fortune Telling - Tonight's Fixture
Reading the Telor Asin (from my lunch)
Update: 2 - 0 either way
Anymore?
(Eh, amalan syirik ke ni?)
Wednesday, 23 June 2010
Shaking It Off
And the scale loudly said
"ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY-EIGHT!
That, my dear is the weight
which you have been of late!"
Of bone and muscles, I might add
And just a teeny bit of fat (hehe)
Tho' not really where it matters
But south in the sitting area
Off I went and made a date
With none other than the Power Plate
And fullamak... didn't I vibrate
from ear to ear and toe to head
Amplitude, frequency
Adjustable frenzy
Shake up the fatsies
And blocked capillaries
Bridges, planks, yogic positions
Micro-mini seismic vibrations
Buzzing, tingling nervous stimulations
Kicking, jazzing, systemic circulation
"Quads, glutes, squats, lunges,
Cardio, core, abductors, adductors,
Static, dynamic, heart-rate enhancers
FITTER! STRONGER!", went the instructor
Bangun pagi terasa sakit
Harus ku cari yang sudi picit
Trigger-points dan urut tak mintak duit
Besok ada kelas JOGET!
_________________________________________
Monday, 26 October 2009
Food for Thought
I can whip up a mean bolognaisse sauce from scratch, meaning I do not use those ready-made goo that come in huge jars you see on the supermarket shelves.
And my family would gobble up my spag dish in no time whenever we have it for dinner.
In fact my girls love pasta, especially fettucine carbonara, the creamier the better. I swear there's no Italian in our bloodline where this partiality could come from. But come to think of it, wasn't it Marco Polo who brought the noodle from China to Italy and called it pasta?
Hmmm.... the girls love kwayteow kungfu too. Obviously it's the chinese in them, though they do not look as chinkee as me. Ah well, you can take the chinese out of the noodle, but you simply can't take the noodle out of the chinese and their descendants - no matter how diluted the genes are.
As I contemplated making spagbog again last week, Bang says "tak sedap lah Yang, olio yang hari tu lagi best".
Olio yang hari tu was Spaghetti Aglio e Olio - olive oil and garlic sauce pasta with shrimps - served at Shasha and Zuzey's Raya Open House.
Now Bang is a meat freak who gives fish a disdainful jeling when he spies it among the other dishes on the table.
My dear Bang, aglio olio with beef is blasphemous to the Itai's and I'll sure hear ground-shaking mammmamias all the way from the boot of the Mediterranean, should I cook it.
But kesian punya pasal I consulted with Zuzey on the possibility. Yup I had on occasion been in two minds about certain plans pasal kesian.
Zuzey's a very talented cook inheriting skills from both her Mum and Dad. Chicken Rice and Nasi Briyani are her signatures...Yummm.
"Well maybe you cooouuuuld.... pre-fry the minced beef with some pepper in a little olive-oil before adding it to the already-mixed olio"
"What if I throw in some curry-leaves for some fusion taste? They do it at Strawberry Fields you know, it kinda cuts the muak feel"
I hear aiyoo ma aiyoo pa rumbling from the sub-continent and more mammmamia's
"Hmmmmmm.... my cousin-sister does that too and yeah ........ it's OK .... I guess... You can also use canned-tuna-in-oil too if you like".
Zuzey used shrimps that day. I don't mind tuna. But the young man must have his meat.
Well guess that's it. I'll try whipping up a batch of beef olio and another of tuna for tomorrow's pot-luck. There'll be other food so we won't go hungry should these do not turn out as desired.
And forget the curry leaves as well. We can't kill the subtle oregano flavour with boisterous kariplay, can we?
According to the grape-vine, there'll be Shepherd's Pie too. Yummmm!
And my family would gobble up my spag dish in no time whenever we have it for dinner.
In fact my girls love pasta, especially fettucine carbonara, the creamier the better. I swear there's no Italian in our bloodline where this partiality could come from. But come to think of it, wasn't it Marco Polo who brought the noodle from China to Italy and called it pasta?
Hmmm.... the girls love kwayteow kungfu too. Obviously it's the chinese in them, though they do not look as chinkee as me. Ah well, you can take the chinese out of the noodle, but you simply can't take the noodle out of the chinese and their descendants - no matter how diluted the genes are.
As I contemplated making spagbog again last week, Bang says "tak sedap lah Yang, olio yang hari tu lagi best".
Olio yang hari tu was Spaghetti Aglio e Olio - olive oil and garlic sauce pasta with shrimps - served at Shasha and Zuzey's Raya Open House.
Now Bang is a meat freak who gives fish a disdainful jeling when he spies it among the other dishes on the table.
My dear Bang, aglio olio with beef is blasphemous to the Itai's and I'll sure hear ground-shaking mammmamias all the way from the boot of the Mediterranean, should I cook it.
But kesian punya pasal I consulted with Zuzey on the possibility. Yup I had on occasion been in two minds about certain plans pasal kesian.
Zuzey's a very talented cook inheriting skills from both her Mum and Dad. Chicken Rice and Nasi Briyani are her signatures...Yummm.
"Well maybe you cooouuuuld.... pre-fry the minced beef with some pepper in a little olive-oil before adding it to the already-mixed olio"
"What if I throw in some curry-leaves for some fusion taste? They do it at Strawberry Fields you know, it kinda cuts the muak feel"
I hear aiyoo ma aiyoo pa rumbling from the sub-continent and more mammmamia's
"Hmmmmmm.... my cousin-sister does that too and yeah ........ it's OK .... I guess... You can also use canned-tuna-in-oil too if you like".
Zuzey used shrimps that day. I don't mind tuna. But the young man must have his meat.
Well guess that's it. I'll try whipping up a batch of beef olio and another of tuna for tomorrow's pot-luck. There'll be other food so we won't go hungry should these do not turn out as desired.
And forget the curry leaves as well. We can't kill the subtle oregano flavour with boisterous kariplay, can we?
According to the grape-vine, there'll be Shepherd's Pie too. Yummmm!
Tuesday, 13 October 2009
Oh So Sore
Yes, very sore. That was how I felt this morning - achy all over. Monday I had popped back into the gym after a very long hiatus: since the beginning of Ramadan actually, and now it's the last week of Syawal.
With Syawal on its way out, pretty soon I should be rearranging my living-room to it's former minimalist layout of 1 carpet and a 3+2+1 lounge set plus an extra sofa and no coffee table. At present there is another carpet laid with the furniture arranged into 2 separate lounge areas for raya guests. A bit more effort needed to sweep and vacuum that's all, but with the minimalist style it's easier to get round behind the chairs to sweep and to roll the carpet to mop the floor.
Well I had let myself get flabby the last couple of months. Didn't do any serious exercise. I knew I had lost some strength when I could not push the single chair off the carpet. Maybe it wasn't just the whole weight of the chair on the carpet, maybe the carpet itself had exerted some friction on the chair that my puny strength couldn't overcome. Whatever the fact, that was when I knew I had to hit the gym again.
The little weight I lost over the fasting month had returned. Well it was just water anyway. I was so dehydrated and sleep-deprived, exercise was never factored into the daily routine then unless one considers the supplementary terawih prayers a form of exercise. I sweated small buckets, but that was all. Nothing like the totally satisfying drenched t-shirt front and back kind - smalls included.
And so at the gym I only managed half the weights I used to do on the machines. Before that session, 25 mins of easy striding on the strider machine. And finished off with another 25 mins on the stiffer machine which has more resistance on the "pedals".
The 3 poco-poco classes I had taken recently were helpful enough to ease me back into exercising. Otherwise this morning I would not have been just achy and sore, but the more painful achy-breaky as in that line-dancing song Achy-Breaky Heart.
My buddy says we have to set objectives and visualise the target. Well let me declare what my target is:
You see that tall lady in the centre of the stage beside the cowboy in black?
That will be me on the 1st of March 2010 YEEEEE..HAAARRRR!!!
_________________________________________________________________
With Syawal on its way out, pretty soon I should be rearranging my living-room to it's former minimalist layout of 1 carpet and a 3+2+1 lounge set plus an extra sofa and no coffee table. At present there is another carpet laid with the furniture arranged into 2 separate lounge areas for raya guests. A bit more effort needed to sweep and vacuum that's all, but with the minimalist style it's easier to get round behind the chairs to sweep and to roll the carpet to mop the floor.
Well I had let myself get flabby the last couple of months. Didn't do any serious exercise. I knew I had lost some strength when I could not push the single chair off the carpet. Maybe it wasn't just the whole weight of the chair on the carpet, maybe the carpet itself had exerted some friction on the chair that my puny strength couldn't overcome. Whatever the fact, that was when I knew I had to hit the gym again.
The little weight I lost over the fasting month had returned. Well it was just water anyway. I was so dehydrated and sleep-deprived, exercise was never factored into the daily routine then unless one considers the supplementary terawih prayers a form of exercise. I sweated small buckets, but that was all. Nothing like the totally satisfying drenched t-shirt front and back kind - smalls included.
And so at the gym I only managed half the weights I used to do on the machines. Before that session, 25 mins of easy striding on the strider machine. And finished off with another 25 mins on the stiffer machine which has more resistance on the "pedals".
The 3 poco-poco classes I had taken recently were helpful enough to ease me back into exercising. Otherwise this morning I would not have been just achy and sore, but the more painful achy-breaky as in that line-dancing song Achy-Breaky Heart.
My buddy says we have to set objectives and visualise the target. Well let me declare what my target is:
You see that tall lady in the centre of the stage beside the cowboy in black?
That will be me on the 1st of March 2010 YEEEEE..HAAARRRR!!!
_________________________________________________________________
Tuesday, 6 October 2009
My Poco-poco Teacher
My poco-poco dance teacher for Saturday mornings is a Type 1 diabetic which means his pancreas does not produce any insulin to metabolise sugar and carbohydrates; as opposed to Type 2 diabetes where the body is somehow resistant to the insulin produced by the pancreas thereby impairing the metabolism of sugar and carbohydrates as well.
Type 1 diabetics are insulin-dependent and they never leave home without their insulin kit. Every meal must be preceded by an insulin shot a half-hour before. They have to constantly monitor their sugar levels - never letting it get too low (hypoglycemic) by being strenuously active or not eating or both, or letting it get too high (hyperglycemic) by not having their insulin shots before meals. My poco-poco teacher was not able to fast because of this. Every year he pays fidyah as replacement.
One day during the Ramadan break, teacher decided to spring-clean his other house which is in a new development, in preparation for hari raya. His wife prepared a meal for him to take with him whilst she manned their bazaar stall. Teacher is well-known for being house-proud and fastidious about it too. Too engrossed in the cleaning, he neglected to have his meal on time.
And as to be expected, he experienced a hypoglycemic episode. What is a hypoglycemic episode? Hypoglycemic episodes occur when the sugar level in the blood
Actually teacher had decided to have his meal after showering. It was in the bathroom that he got disoriented. He had come out of the bathroom in his birthday suit, walked past the living room and straight into the glass sliding-door which was 5mm thick. He hadn't installed grilles for aesthetic reasons. He said diabetics going through such episodes sometimes experience abnormal strength, and as a result he left a hole in the sliding-door in the shape of a man just like in the cartoons.
He then fell unconscious among the shards of glass on the floor. Fortunately for him one of his neighbours noticed the broken door while she was driving home and alerted the head of the Resident's Association, who happened to be Mr Lee next door. Mr Lee knew of teacher's diabetes, he being similarly afflicted. So when he investigated the complaint with another neighbour and found teacher sprawled in the raw, he suspected the cause. They covered his modesty with a towel, made him drink some coke with some chunks of chocolates but called the police anyway just in case it was a criminal incident or breaking-and-entering.
When the police came, he had already come to but what he was incensed about was that instead of offering to take him to the hospital in the police-car, the mata-mata kept commenting how beautiful his house was (2 semi-dees combined into a single unit), with tastefully elegant decor and such. And there was teacher bleeding all over and in pain from the many cuts. In the end, it was Mr Lee who took teacher to the government hospital's trauma and emergency department.
Which turned out to be another traumatic experience for teacher. Because he had to have 50 stitches. Some jagged cuts were stitched by an inexperienced houseman who was directed to do so by the supervisor "pandai-pandai kau lah buat". Houseman's hands were shaking and houseman dropped the spiral suture and then had to search the shelves for another one, not knowing exactly where such things were kept. Teacher told houseman "If you mess up the stitching and my thumb drops off, I'll sue you".
While lying on a bed pillowless waiting to be warded for a night's observation, teacher saw a patient die, he witnessed a foreigner being denied a bed and told to sit outside, he saw a high-class looking lady yak-yakking loudly on her handphone with a pillow under her head and one on each side of her. Teacher sniggered when she screamed as the doctors realigned a foot or something. Mr Lee rolled up a blanket for teacher to use as a pillow.
Poor teacher. His wife vowed never to let him go anywhere alone again. He has recovered quickly indeed. Last Saturday we resumed classes after Ramadan and the festivities. He started off by putting us through the basic (for now) poco-poco steps and then torturing us with continuous repetitions of arm and shoulder exercises. Floor exercises were equally torturous and I found that I couldn't execute the full range cobra pose the way I could before the break, not to mention the 100 sit-ups and pelvic raises.
Tsk,tsk ...Should have continued with my stretching exercises during Ramadan.
Check-out these Swedish students doing the basic poco-poco. My teacher has in addition to poco-poco taught us cha-cha, salsa, rock-n-roll, zapin, basic indian and chinese steps too. The classes are fun exercise and never as boring as the gym could get.
Hope teacher has learn't his lesson and doesn't go hypo on us in class.
Type 1 diabetics are insulin-dependent and they never leave home without their insulin kit. Every meal must be preceded by an insulin shot a half-hour before. They have to constantly monitor their sugar levels - never letting it get too low (hypoglycemic) by being strenuously active or not eating or both, or letting it get too high (hyperglycemic) by not having their insulin shots before meals. My poco-poco teacher was not able to fast because of this. Every year he pays fidyah as replacement.
One day during the Ramadan break, teacher decided to spring-clean his other house which is in a new development, in preparation for hari raya. His wife prepared a meal for him to take with him whilst she manned their bazaar stall. Teacher is well-known for being house-proud and fastidious about it too. Too engrossed in the cleaning, he neglected to have his meal on time.
And as to be expected, he experienced a hypoglycemic episode. What is a hypoglycemic episode? Hypoglycemic episodes occur when the sugar level in the blood
Actually teacher had decided to have his meal after showering. It was in the bathroom that he got disoriented. He had come out of the bathroom in his birthday suit, walked past the living room and straight into the glass sliding-door which was 5mm thick. He hadn't installed grilles for aesthetic reasons. He said diabetics going through such episodes sometimes experience abnormal strength, and as a result he left a hole in the sliding-door in the shape of a man just like in the cartoons.
He then fell unconscious among the shards of glass on the floor. Fortunately for him one of his neighbours noticed the broken door while she was driving home and alerted the head of the Resident's Association, who happened to be Mr Lee next door. Mr Lee knew of teacher's diabetes, he being similarly afflicted. So when he investigated the complaint with another neighbour and found teacher sprawled in the raw, he suspected the cause. They covered his modesty with a towel, made him drink some coke with some chunks of chocolates but called the police anyway just in case it was a criminal incident or breaking-and-entering.
When the police came, he had already come to but what he was incensed about was that instead of offering to take him to the hospital in the police-car, the mata-mata kept commenting how beautiful his house was (2 semi-dees combined into a single unit), with tastefully elegant decor and such. And there was teacher bleeding all over and in pain from the many cuts. In the end, it was Mr Lee who took teacher to the government hospital's trauma and emergency department.
Which turned out to be another traumatic experience for teacher. Because he had to have 50 stitches. Some jagged cuts were stitched by an inexperienced houseman who was directed to do so by the supervisor "pandai-pandai kau lah buat". Houseman's hands were shaking and houseman dropped the spiral suture and then had to search the shelves for another one, not knowing exactly where such things were kept. Teacher told houseman "If you mess up the stitching and my thumb drops off, I'll sue you".
While lying on a bed pillowless waiting to be warded for a night's observation, teacher saw a patient die, he witnessed a foreigner being denied a bed and told to sit outside, he saw a high-class looking lady yak-yakking loudly on her handphone with a pillow under her head and one on each side of her. Teacher sniggered when she screamed as the doctors realigned a foot or something. Mr Lee rolled up a blanket for teacher to use as a pillow.
Poor teacher. His wife vowed never to let him go anywhere alone again. He has recovered quickly indeed. Last Saturday we resumed classes after Ramadan and the festivities. He started off by putting us through the basic (for now) poco-poco steps and then torturing us with continuous repetitions of arm and shoulder exercises. Floor exercises were equally torturous and I found that I couldn't execute the full range cobra pose the way I could before the break, not to mention the 100 sit-ups and pelvic raises.
Tsk,tsk ...Should have continued with my stretching exercises during Ramadan.
Check-out these Swedish students doing the basic poco-poco. My teacher has in addition to poco-poco taught us cha-cha, salsa, rock-n-roll, zapin, basic indian and chinese steps too. The classes are fun exercise and never as boring as the gym could get.
Hope teacher has learn't his lesson and doesn't go hypo on us in class.
Thursday, 1 October 2009
I Do What I Do
"It tastes exquisite - like a beautiful woman coming out of the darkness"
What a pick-up line for a man appreciating his loved one's culinary creation.
Emmm, if you think this came from someone who had a birthday recently, sorry-lah. Sorry for me too. But then when he piles on another helping of rice even it is only to go with fried chicken and kailan masak lemak and sambal belacan tomato, that's enough thanks for me.
Anyway that line was from a cookery show I was watching. When there's no one else at home watching MTV, or ESPN or CNN then I get to watch the cookery channel...... while having brunch.
Why brunch? Well I woke up quite late.
Why did I wake up late? Well I went to bed very late, 4.00 am.
Why 4.00 am? Because I couldn't sleep.
Why not? I had Milo tarik kurang manis at the mamak's at Mydin Mall at 10.30 last night. So you know lah, minum Milo jadi KUAT dan SIHAT - not jahat ok?
Why drink a stimulant at night lah? Because my taitai sis belanja mah...
Why she belanja? You see, we were with another sister (I have 4 sisters) shopping for prizes for our once-in-a-few-years gathering of the Tok Jamal descendants this weekend. Tok Jamal was our great-grandfather. This taitai sis is really generous - she always belanja us makan-minum.
And then she assigned me a task - younger sisters always get assigned little tasks, and not so little tasks.
What task? "You take home these prizes and gift-wrap them" she ordered, "after all you got nothing to do!"
You know I'm really amazed. A retired madam taitai, living in a 3-storey mansion with 3 whatchamacallems in the porch and a maid for each of the 3 storeys, tells ME who chose not to have a maid, who everyday AT THE VERY LEAST has to make the conjugal bed (this is easy), cook and serve the conjugal dinner (also easy but sometimes no mood), wash and put away the utensils (easy too but boring job), also hang out and then fold and put away the family laundry (do not need a degree for these), occasionally wash the bathroom, and whine about the uncut grass, the leaky roof, - hey I'm not complaining - but I do NOT have nothing to do, madam.
"Eeeyer, YOU'RE the one got nothing to do what!" I sneered.
The Libran sis with 2 grandkids on her hands every working day, tries to balance the scales "You both divide the things up lah or you both come to my house to do the wrapping".
"Aiyahh susah-susah I'll take everything-lah". Attagirl, sis. You're an angel. Mmmmuah. Tomorrow I can watch TV while eating my brunch, kikiki.....
Plus think about the poco-poco steps easy enough for the makciks to pick up during the joget lambak segment - a task assigned by the Libran. Can't get off scot free, you know.
Actually the things I do everyday, is what next-doors' maids do everyday too. OK, I concede I only do what I choose to do. But then I'm unpaid so I can choose to DO something or NOT to do something. Why get stressed mowing the grass, cleaning the drains? I'm stressed enough just looking at them lah. (That sounds like convoluted logic) But I must say the cars are always shining - enough elbow grease in that department haha. Not from my elbows but someone elses. Of course if I were a maid like the ones next door, the grass, the drains, my car would get lashings of grease from mine.
Hats off to the Indon maids, those who work hard from dawn to dark, and especially those who do not layan banglas and construction workers. Here's a song for them. (I myself get stressed watching it - Thanks Widz)
(Sigh - I just want to be like that beautiful woman coming out of the darkness........... How to be this I do not know. Would these latest gifts from a Canuck Casanova help?)
_______________________________________________________
This was written tongue-in-cheek - no malice intended, absolutely
What a pick-up line for a man appreciating his loved one's culinary creation.
Emmm, if you think this came from someone who had a birthday recently, sorry-lah. Sorry for me too. But then when he piles on another helping of rice even it is only to go with fried chicken and kailan masak lemak and sambal belacan tomato, that's enough thanks for me.
Anyway that line was from a cookery show I was watching. When there's no one else at home watching MTV, or ESPN or CNN then I get to watch the cookery channel...... while having brunch.
Why brunch? Well I woke up quite late.
Why did I wake up late? Well I went to bed very late, 4.00 am.
Why 4.00 am? Because I couldn't sleep.
Why not? I had Milo tarik kurang manis at the mamak's at Mydin Mall at 10.30 last night. So you know lah, minum Milo jadi KUAT dan SIHAT - not jahat ok?
Why drink a stimulant at night lah? Because my taitai sis belanja mah...
Why she belanja? You see, we were with another sister (I have 4 sisters) shopping for prizes for our once-in-a-few-years gathering of the Tok Jamal descendants this weekend. Tok Jamal was our great-grandfather. This taitai sis is really generous - she always belanja us makan-minum.
And then she assigned me a task - younger sisters always get assigned little tasks, and not so little tasks.
What task? "You take home these prizes and gift-wrap them" she ordered, "after all you got nothing to do!"
You know I'm really amazed. A retired madam taitai, living in a 3-storey mansion with 3 whatchamacallems in the porch and a maid for each of the 3 storeys, tells ME who chose not to have a maid, who everyday AT THE VERY LEAST has to make the conjugal bed (this is easy), cook and serve the conjugal dinner (also easy but sometimes no mood), wash and put away the utensils (easy too but boring job), also hang out and then fold and put away the family laundry (do not need a degree for these), occasionally wash the bathroom, and whine about the uncut grass, the leaky roof, - hey I'm not complaining - but I do NOT have nothing to do, madam.
"Eeeyer, YOU'RE the one got nothing to do what!" I sneered.
The Libran sis with 2 grandkids on her hands every working day, tries to balance the scales "You both divide the things up lah or you both come to my house to do the wrapping".
"Aiyahh susah-susah I'll take everything-lah". Attagirl, sis. You're an angel. Mmmmuah. Tomorrow I can watch TV while eating my brunch, kikiki.....
Plus think about the poco-poco steps easy enough for the makciks to pick up during the joget lambak segment - a task assigned by the Libran. Can't get off scot free, you know.
Actually the things I do everyday, is what next-doors' maids do everyday too. OK, I concede I only do what I choose to do. But then I'm unpaid so I can choose to DO something or NOT to do something. Why get stressed mowing the grass, cleaning the drains? I'm stressed enough just looking at them lah. (That sounds like convoluted logic) But I must say the cars are always shining - enough elbow grease in that department haha. Not from my elbows but someone elses. Of course if I were a maid like the ones next door, the grass, the drains, my car would get lashings of grease from mine.
Hats off to the Indon maids, those who work hard from dawn to dark, and especially those who do not layan banglas and construction workers. Here's a song for them. (I myself get stressed watching it - Thanks Widz)
(Sigh - I just want to be like that beautiful woman coming out of the darkness........... How to be this I do not know. Would these latest gifts from a Canuck Casanova help?)
_______________________________________________________
This was written tongue-in-cheek - no malice intended, absolutely
Thursday, 24 September 2009
Can't decide on a title and punch-line for this
Maybe
1. This Is He
- a chip of the old block
or
2. Need to Know
- whether I am the beneficiary of his life insurance
or
3. Some Moms
- do have them
or
4. Tak Sudi Lagi
- doa mak dia kot...
As you can guess from the choices above, I have mixed feelings about this. It's after the fact anyway - and I do feel proud of him, happy for him, apprehensive and sebak all at the same time. Because bungee-jumping is such a fear-conquering experience that he might become too over-confident for whatever crazy pursuits that might catch his fancy next time.
Safety above all, Azeim. Remember that.
What say you, my friends?
1. This Is He
- a chip of the old block
or
2. Need to Know
- whether I am the beneficiary of his life insurance
or
3. Some Moms
- do have them
or
4. Tak Sudi Lagi
- doa mak dia kot...
As you can guess from the choices above, I have mixed feelings about this. It's after the fact anyway - and I do feel proud of him, happy for him, apprehensive and sebak all at the same time. Because bungee-jumping is such a fear-conquering experience that he might become too over-confident for whatever crazy pursuits that might catch his fancy next time.
Safety above all, Azeim. Remember that.
What say you, my friends?
Thursday, 17 September 2009
I got no kampong to balik to
Ever since both sets of our grandparents passed on, we've spent Hari Raya in the Klang Valley with our parents. Even that, there's only my Mum left now and arwah Dad's brother, Alhamdulillah.
The nice thing about having no faraway kampong is we that we get to go home at night to our own beds.
No need to put up with communal makeshift ones or the first-to-arrive-gets-the-guest-bedroom kind of deal.
And at this time the valley is at it's most serene, no cars, no lorries, no motor-bikes, in short NO JAMS.
You almost get to hear silence on the roads.
You get to see emptiness in the commercial centres.
And you get to see bands of migrant workers out enjoying the holidays, smiles etched on their faces as they greet their countrymen.
And apart from the occasional fire-cracker, you might even get to hear yourself breathe.
Well for those making the journey, drive safely, exercise lots of patience and do have a pleasant trip.
The nice thing about having no faraway kampong is we that we get to go home at night to our own beds.
No need to put up with communal makeshift ones or the first-to-arrive-gets-the-guest-bedroom kind of deal.
And at this time the valley is at it's most serene, no cars, no lorries, no motor-bikes, in short NO JAMS.
You almost get to hear silence on the roads.
You get to see emptiness in the commercial centres.
And you get to see bands of migrant workers out enjoying the holidays, smiles etched on their faces as they greet their countrymen.
And apart from the occasional fire-cracker, you might even get to hear yourself breathe.
Well for those making the journey, drive safely, exercise lots of patience and do have a pleasant trip.
EID MUBARAQ TO ALL MUSLIMS EVERYWHERE
Friday, 11 September 2009
Kitchen Blues
When I was in Std. One we were taught nursery rhymes such as this one:
Mix a pancake,
Stir a pancake,
Pop it in the pan.
Fry the pancake,
Toss the pancake,
Catch it if you can.
Nope, not making pancakes today.
Just taking a breather from the kitchen.
Why can't I ever make a perfect omelette?
The tomatoes and the daun bawang and sliced onions and garlic all combine so perfectly in the beaten eggs, the colours are enticing, the shape's perfectly round, the bottom's done perfectly, and when I flip it - a part of the edge koyak!!!
Now it's NOT perfect - SHEEEEEESSSSH.
______________________________________________________________
Mix a pancake,
Stir a pancake,
Pop it in the pan.
Fry the pancake,
Toss the pancake,
Catch it if you can.
Nope, not making pancakes today.
Just taking a breather from the kitchen.
Why can't I ever make a perfect omelette?
The tomatoes and the daun bawang and sliced onions and garlic all combine so perfectly in the beaten eggs, the colours are enticing, the shape's perfectly round, the bottom's done perfectly, and when I flip it - a part of the edge koyak!!!
Now it's NOT perfect - SHEEEEEESSSSH.
______________________________________________________________
Wednesday, 9 September 2009
Special Dates and Berbuka Puasa
Nice date sequence today - 090909.
Next year's special date is 101010.
Have already told the older kids if any of them wants to get married, 101010 sounds like quite a nice date for a wedding.
One quipped "Everyone will be getting marrried on that date, poyor ler". Well then, 101110 looks nice too. The the next year someone else can get married on 111111, and the next 121212.
My first 3 kids were born in consecutive years 83, 84, 85 which makes then very eligible lah.
My parents were married on 040444. Nothing suey about that - they had me mah - plus 8 others. All of us are from the baby-boomer generation - the least oldest being 45 years of age, the eldest 63. I'm smack in the middle: 8 years older than the youngest and 8 years younger than the oldest. Just do the maths. Hint: My age is double-digit, with a repeating number which adds up to 10.
Not bad being in the middle - can manja with the older ones, and bossy with the younger ones. Not anymore lah, ever since the younger ones became cleverer than me.
Anyway since it is 090909, I'll make it special by posting a tazkirah ramadan on the subject of the breaking of fast. This seems to be a "hot" subject in other blogs which are filled with stories of food, menus and cooking for iftaar.
_____________________________________________________________
Syarat untuk mendapat nikmat ketika berbuka puasa - iaitu mendapat kekenyangan dengan makanan yang sedikit:
1. Duduk menghadap makanan 2 hingga 5 minit sebelum berbuka untuk merangsang air liur. Air liur membantu dalam proses penghazaman makanan.
2. Berdoa sebelum berbuka - Ya Allah! Kerana Engkau aku berpuasa dan kepada Engkau aku beriman dan atas rezeki dari Engkau aku berbuka puasa dengan rahmat Engkau yang meliputi segala sesuatu.
3. Makan dengan mengguna tangan kanan.
4. Bermula dengan makanan yang paling hampir - jangan sampai terangkat punggung.
5. Kunyah makanan lembut sebanyak 11-20 kali dan makanan keras sebanyak 21-40 kali. Berhenti makan sebelum kenyang.
Dengan mengikut kaedah makan seperti tersebut di atas akan memastikan kesejahteraan perut yang harus kita isikan hanya sepertiga dengan makanan, sepertiga lagi untuk minuman dan sepertiga dibiarkan untuk nafas.
Wallahua'lam.
Tazkirah telah disampaikan oleh Ustaz Shihabuddin Muhaemin pada 020909.
_________________________________________________________
To really stimulate the salivary glands before the iftaar, I suggest the following video. It worked on my dear husband, especially the last 2 minutes. Enjoy!
_______________________________________________________________
Next year's special date is 101010.
Have already told the older kids if any of them wants to get married, 101010 sounds like quite a nice date for a wedding.
One quipped "Everyone will be getting marrried on that date, poyor ler". Well then, 101110 looks nice too. The the next year someone else can get married on 111111, and the next 121212.
My first 3 kids were born in consecutive years 83, 84, 85 which makes then very eligible lah.
My parents were married on 040444. Nothing suey about that - they had me mah - plus 8 others. All of us are from the baby-boomer generation - the least oldest being 45 years of age, the eldest 63. I'm smack in the middle: 8 years older than the youngest and 8 years younger than the oldest. Just do the maths. Hint: My age is double-digit, with a repeating number which adds up to 10.
Not bad being in the middle - can manja with the older ones, and bossy with the younger ones. Not anymore lah, ever since the younger ones became cleverer than me.
Anyway since it is 090909, I'll make it special by posting a tazkirah ramadan on the subject of the breaking of fast. This seems to be a "hot" subject in other blogs which are filled with stories of food, menus and cooking for iftaar.
_____________________________________________________________
Syarat untuk mendapat nikmat ketika berbuka puasa - iaitu mendapat kekenyangan dengan makanan yang sedikit:
1. Duduk menghadap makanan 2 hingga 5 minit sebelum berbuka untuk merangsang air liur. Air liur membantu dalam proses penghazaman makanan.
2. Berdoa sebelum berbuka - Ya Allah! Kerana Engkau aku berpuasa dan kepada Engkau aku beriman dan atas rezeki dari Engkau aku berbuka puasa dengan rahmat Engkau yang meliputi segala sesuatu.
3. Makan dengan mengguna tangan kanan.
4. Bermula dengan makanan yang paling hampir - jangan sampai terangkat punggung.
5. Kunyah makanan lembut sebanyak 11-20 kali dan makanan keras sebanyak 21-40 kali. Berhenti makan sebelum kenyang.
Dengan mengikut kaedah makan seperti tersebut di atas akan memastikan kesejahteraan perut yang harus kita isikan hanya sepertiga dengan makanan, sepertiga lagi untuk minuman dan sepertiga dibiarkan untuk nafas.
Wallahua'lam.
Tazkirah telah disampaikan oleh Ustaz Shihabuddin Muhaemin pada 020909.
_________________________________________________________
To really stimulate the salivary glands before the iftaar, I suggest the following video. It worked on my dear husband, especially the last 2 minutes. Enjoy!
_______________________________________________________________
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