Little Aina

Make a Smilebox slideshow

The current heart-stopper in the family.

The Age of Googleism

I barely witnessed communism,

I totally missed the whole life of socialism,

Democracy was assumed but not fully understood,
It all seemed acceptable from where I then stood.

Not long before did I embrace environmentalism

An idea which seemed more individualistic rather than accepted in pluralism

But today when we sat for our casual tete-a-tete

I am able to accept that life is not worth living without a regret.

Before our very eyes, the world formed into a web
The invisible spider, spinning us around into a trap

Our paths widened but our minds engulfed

The more we know, the tighter our hands are cuffed.

Enter, this new world of Googleism

Survival of the fittest in a world of Bloggerism

Put your rights to vote not by paper, cast

Twitter and Flikr, or fade out by contrast.

A new Darwinism rises

Unprecedented; the world of dictators despises

The top of the world from the bottom of the Basin

View of a spectrum of life unforeseen

And if today is defined by the data in your base

And all about you could be wiped out without a trace

People of the world defined

My spot, where do I find?

Till the time comes when I only exist in Google
Time from daylight till nightime only spent as frugal

Will I prance around in the gardens

Run through the air to breathe the credence

Of Mother Earth created to be embraced

By God of the Worlds of Whom was graced

And be I laid down on the ground

Of uneven terrain, perfect even for the Crown

I will smile to the knowledge of an existence

That strived to be felt of its presence

My soul will leave its body, laughing

Saved from an identity known only

by surfing.

Time in a bottle - an impossibility

Time in A Bottle. That phrase that made a song hit the charts. The phrase that was and is synonymous to The Police or Sting. The phrase which is a total impossibility. I cannot even have it stop to catch up with anything. I just have to either move/think/breathe faster to catch up with lost time or abandon the idea of catching up at all and switch to a different goal.

And so this is the next strategy - do not play catch up. Switch your goals.

Ode to smiles

Thank God for smiles!
For without a smile
You frown
Your eyebrows meet
Your true feelings come darting forth through
Your eyes

Thank God for smiles!
For without a smile
We see you upset
We see your unease
We feel what you feel
Inside

Thank God for smiles!
For without a smile
The load is heavier
The breathing is tougher
The life feels closer
To death

Thank God for smiles!

Today's no-brainer

Who we are today may not be who we will be tomorrow;
Who we were may not be who we are today;
But who we are today is what we have become from who we were.

So many books to read, so little time...

When I don't have the resources, I have time. When I have the resources, I don't have time. So when will I be able to now read all the books which I have longed for and finally got? I often wonder - who will keep and read these books when I am gone?

Would she??

My niece, Aina, 4 months' old, thinking hard for an answer...

Jamaludin Bin Said 15 Dec 1941 - 8 May 2008

Ayah Ngah (left) with my father on Eid in 2007.

Very few deaths have brought me to tears. I usually tell myself that I reserve that for people I hold dearest to my heart. At the same time, I've been holding this reservation to cry over deaths as I keep telling myself that to die is to undergo a transition in existence and not to be treated as a punishment.

My dear uncle's death, however, was surprisingly difficult for me to hold back my tears. He was my father's only brother and throughout his life, had been such a kind soul to me. He was the only Ayah Ngah (pet name for Middle Uncle) to me. When I first laid my eyes on him when I came home from England as a child, the first thing I remarked (which everyone seemed to remember) was that I had 2 daddies because he looked very much like my own father. He was always smiling, always in good spirit and he held a pleasant chuckle if he found anything to be funny. I always thought of him as a cat because of the cheshire cat look that he wore over his moustache when he smiled.

And so someone has to tell the world of this man whom I seldom dropped by to visit in recent years before his death but whom I had never forgotten the good deeds of. Ayah Ngah was born as Jamaludin on 15 December 1941. The First World War had started by then and I can only imagine the difficulties of my grandparents having to bring up a child during those hard times. Despite the chaotic background that he had been brought up in, Ayah Ngah managed to go to school. He first went to Sekolah Melayu Bandar Temerloh, then to Sekolah Melayu Kampung Bintang and because he was a good student, went to the Sekolah Darjah Khas Bandar Temerloh. Then it was time to go to Secondary School and the teacher announced that whoever wanted to continue their secondary education would have to have a birth certificate showing that they were only 12/13 years old. By that time, Ayah Ngah was already 14/15 and because he was so intent on continuing his secondary education, Ayah Ngah spoke to a younger friend by the name of Osman and knowing that Osman was not too keen to continue his studies, managed to coax Osman to lend him his birth certificate. With this borrowed certificate, Ayah Ngah became Osman bin Md Said and wallah, was allowed to further his secondary education. This led him to Sekolah Tuanku Abdul Rahman in Ipoh, a well-known secondary boarding school for boys.

When he had finished secondary school, Ayah Ngah immediately signed up for a government post and was given the position of Pegawai Pertanian Rendah in Balok, Kuantan, Pahang. By some divine intervention, Ayah Ngah later became a teacher without having to go to Teaching College as the country was short of teachers and anyone who had a decent secondary education was accepted in into the teaching profession. He never looked back and Ayah Ngah, well known by his students as Cikgu Osman, finally retired as the Headmaster of Sekolah Kebangsaan Tanjung Lalang, Temerloh, Pahang in the year 2000.

I suppose during his first stint as a teacher that he met his wife, Jeriah, whom I call Mak Ngah and later came along all 6 children, 2 of whom are teachers too.

I used to think of Ayah Ngah as the family food aficionado. Each time he came back from the market, he brought back all sorts of food and his description of what he just had for his previous meal always struck me as delicious. I suppose that made me really sorry for him that during the last few months preceding his death, Ayah Ngah was unable to eat all the food that he loved and would throw up almost everything that entered his system.

I didn't really visit Ayah Ngah very often after I came back from completing my degree in England. Although I always wished that I was closer to him when I had later come back to live in Temerloh , I never really had the chance to regain the close ties that we had before. He was getting older and I was getting busier. When he landed in the emergency ward one day 3 years ago, he thought he was going to die then and sobbed the moment he saw me walk to his bed. During his last days, I visited him a bit more often but I couldn't really stand next to him during the last false death alarm we had almost a month before he departed. Ayah Ngah was in pain, could not breath without aid and looked so weak.

Before his death, Ayah Ngah told me to look into preparing new tomb stones for my grandparents and great grandparents. He passed away before I could carry out these instructions. I know that I will have to complete this task very soon.

For my uncle, I pray that God grants him a place in Heaven, for to Him, Ayah Ngah has returned. Amin.

On Being Happier

Would we be happier if we got all we wanted? Would we be happier if we were richer, stronger, more intelligent, more good looking, taller, slimmer? What would be the definition of 'happier' then? If we have everything that we've wished for, how then would we be happier than we already were? Would we then wish we were less blessed so that we would have more experience in life's lessons? Would we wish that something bad happened so that we had more stories to share?

Being happy is subjective. Having all that we wish for would perhaps make us easier to attain certain things that we desire but we know of too many examples of people who are so unhappy despite being rich, healthy, intelligent, beautiful, tall and slim. They could have been happier -What more could they ask for?

We don't need much to be happy. Accept ourselves as who we are and what we have been and what we will be and we could be as happy as can be.

Am I your best friend?

Looking back at the past few weeks, I've noticed that I've been asked for my advice or my good counsel by some of the closest friends that I've made from time to time over the years. What one of them said to me recently reminded me that purpose will emerge itself for our individual existence at different times throughout our lives. In not so many words, upon unloading what was bottling inside him, he told me that I was his best friend and even if I did not happen to realise that, I had been perhaps the only person who knew him best as we've been friends for over decades. I had been hearing this from different people throughout these few weeks, which then told me that perhaps in life, I had been given a simple role by the Almighty Allah : to be of comfort to my friends.

As I ponder over the many conversations and situations I've had and been with different people over the years, I hope this is true. I hope I have been a comfort to my dear friends..

Stress..

My stress level is rising, after a long lull of 4 months. I can feel it seep through my cells. So I need to relax and take it easy..

Dinner at Fukuya

Fukuya, One Bangsar?

Edward, VG and I

Fried 'pregnant fish'

Clam soup with flavours I've never tasted before

Very, very fresh sashimi.

The Newcomer

We've got a newcomer in our family. A girl with the loudest of cries, having the deepest of sleeps and presumably, soon to be in the most centre of everything in the Suhaimi household.

Shall we call her The Newbie?

We were carefully told today: no airconditioning, no privileges, no pampering for The Newbie. Spank her if she's naughty, tell her off if she goes astray.

Welcome, Newbie!

My wants and needs

I want to start walking without using crutches or a walking stick soon
Coz
I need to run up to my office, chase everyone around, so that they do their job properly
I need to chase my clients to pay their fees
I need to meet my clients to discuss their problems and take them out for drinks and have a good chat and laugh

I want to go walking in the malls
Coz
I need to relax my mind with the idea that there are things out there to be bought but I dont need them
I need to see what's new in the market
I need to feel the ambience of being in the mall with drones of human beings walking pass me

I want to go swimming
Coz
I need to know I can use my left foot like I used to be able to
I need to know that I won't sink
I need to feel healthy even for a minute

I want to go out with my friends
Coz
I need to know they're still there
I need to have a good conversation
I need people to ridicule me, taunt me and still not give me the urge to kill them after having done all that

I want to go dancing
Coz
I need to move that butt
I need to hear the loud music
I need to know I still have the moves..yeah!

So who says our wants are not what we need?

The ice-breaker

It's been almost 2 months now since I fractured the fibula, and I'm still not walking. Hobbling along, but not walking. Soon, I was told, very soon. I tried treading on my own but there's a bit of losing nerves on my part. I've not been walking for a bit too long, my muscles have forgotten how to flex..bah!

I noticed, though, the fracture, is a great ice-breaking topic. I think I've been having long conversations with more than 20 strangers since I started having the cast on and maybe another 15 after the cast was taken off. Today alone, I've had great chats with more than 4 cleaners working at the public toilets in the highway rest area. Brilliant!

A Christmas Story

It is Christmas Eve and there is a Church group carolling in front of my neighbour's house a few doors away. That's a rare sight in Temerloh, which is predominantly Muslim. The group even has a van slowly driving around with a loudspeaker playing the traditionally well-known Christmas songs. I am told that after they finish driving around in my neighbourhood, they'll be driving to the other housing estates in Temerloh, wherever there are Christian homes.

I am invited by friends to their Christmas party tomorrow night. I doubt they are Christians but they celebrate Christmas anyway. Well, if I had not fractured my fibula, I would be in KL by now, perhaps at Lini and Franco's celebrating Christmas in their home with friends. We even exchange gifts etc, just to humour the kids. We've been doing this since 10 years ago, even putting a budget of RM10.00 per gift, because it's just for fun.

Here's what I know: people just celebrate Christmas just for fun. They go carolling for the enjoyment of singing in a group, especially if there are candles involved. All this, without even being a Christian. For Muslims, it is not an act to be encouraged because we were to have purpose for every action we do and and we must put thought to those actions, and not just for fun.

A lot of people would say, what is wrong with just getting together and enjoying ourselves during Christmas? Sounds like a good reason to get everyone gathered together. I enjoy every moment of celebrations. Any celebration, for that matter. The only thing is, it need not be Christmas. Why does everyone have to wait till Christmas to give gifts to their loved ones and get together with their families? Perhaps for the Christians, they have a good reason to celebrate it this way but for the rest of us, why wait till Christmas?

The truth is, the Western world has managed to advertise Christmas in a way the forefathers of Christianity never imagined. One of the major reasons why Christmas was created in early Roman times was to divert the attention from a major pagan celebration known as the Winter Solstice which fell on 25 December. It was to avoid the converts from celebrating with the pagans which involved a lot of drunkenness, partying and wild romps. I doubt many people know this. The Western world then decided that the singing of carols, exchanging of gifts, the idea of Christmas tree, Santa Claus etc would make the celebration even merrier. What the rest of the world did not realise is that Christmas had become the one single annual major economic boost to the Western countries since the 20th century.

Christmas was given a facelift in the 1800s by writers like Charles Dickens and Washington Irving because celebrations were dying out after the American Revolution and even Puritans banned such merrymaking celebrations. They succeeded in boosting this event. Christmas is today celebrated by so many people in everywhere in the world with no knowledge of its origins. No wonder the Church is said to be worried about the over-secularisation of Christmas.

Hari Raya Aidil Fitri is also undergoing such secularisation. Aidil Fitri or Eid-ul-Fitri was meant to celebrate the victory of Muslims having succeeded to fast for the whole month of Ramadhan. Eid ul Fitri was meant to be celebrated with prayers, thanking Allah for the victory of having completed the fasting month, forgiving others and giving to the poor (zakat fitrah). But what we find today is a celebration of merrymaking, excessive eating and excessive renovating of homes for the day of Eid.

Celebrations are good for bringing people together in harmony, but many forget why the celebrations were there in the first place. I pray the world will not move in one full circle back towards paganism.

A broken fibula and a porch full of rice

Today my porch was full of food items for the flood victims. Chew had kindly put up 2 canopies in my driveway in case it rains. We received RM27,000.00 worth of food contributions from the Rotary Clubs in Kuala Lumpur today, that helped us feed 626 families today. I am so elated by that, actually. My left foot became so swollen today, maybe I've been moving around too much in my crutches today, trying to ensure the packing of food bags were done according to plan. There were at least 20 -25 people in my driveway packing the goods so disorganisation was best avoided at the rate we were going. These food items must go out today, there was no way we could just store them in my driveway overnight.

It went well, the finale being Ravi, Chew, Chan and Richard going to Mentakab Indah to distribute food bags to 250 families and came home buzzing with what they described to be a moment not to be missed. There were hungry people in line, in all races (Malay,Indian and Chinese) queueing up to receive the bags and thanking profusely as they have not eaten in days. It was a heartfelt situation and I'm glad we all did our part..

Water,water everywhere...

It is the rainy season in East Coast Malaysia again. Temerloh is now flooded to the brim. Mentakab town has never been more like Venice than ever before. I broke my leg 2 weeks ago. It's not right to say that it is such a bad time to have a broken leg but if it had not been so, I would be able to go and see the places affected by the floods by myself without having to rely on others to take me around in their vehicles. Managed to group up with my other Rotary friends and went sending rice, biscuits, instant noodles and mineral water to the victims at the relief centre in the Tamil Primary School and Abu Bakar Primary School in Mentakab. The victims in the Tamil Primary School seemed highly strung and it was not surprising - the government social department forgot about them and we were told that most of the food supplies donated were either from NGOs or individuals. The local member of parliament had not been seen visiting them and that got them really mad.

I heard the next day that the group from the National Front (ruling party) were sent packing when they showed their faces at the relief centre. Lesson learnt: When natural disaster hits, get organised quickly.

Pak Sako

I decided to grab a book from the uppermost shelf of the cabinet in my bedroom last night. I bought it at least a year ago at a very cheap price. The bookshop was getting rid of its old stock, if I remember correctly. I bought it really for the name printed on it - Pak Sako. It was not a book written by him but more of a collection of his writings by a young editor. As I read the foreword by Professor Ungku Aziz, I realised that the earlier generation had a way of not overly commending someone, yet, as you read through their words, it would then be very apparent that they actually thought very highly of the person referred to. Simple and subtle.
It was a book of compilations. I've barely read half of the book as I write this but I thought that before it escapes me, I really must jot down my very few experiences meeting Pak Sako when I was still a child.
I don't remember whether I was already living in this little town called Temerloh or if I was there for a weekend visit with my father, before we actually moved to the town from Kuala Lumpur. All I remember, I was brought by my father to a small park in the middle of town, which is now next to the Syariah Court in Temerloh, and that was where poetry reading took place that day. I was curious, as I had never been to a poetry reading event and even more so, one which was held in the Malay Language.
We were gathered in the park, all tucked in a corner, seated on the grass and Pak Sako started reciting some poetic verses. I doubt I understood much of it then.. I don't really remember. But I remember being introduced to him. He seemed to know my father well and when he was told that I only had my first encounter of the Malay Language after the age of 5 (unlike other Malay girls during that time), he then started asking me a lot of questions about my likes and dislikes. He even asked me whether I could write short stories. I think I told him it wasn't a problem, then I fled, before he could ask me to write one!
A short encounter, but it certainly got me, 30 years later, to buy the book and read again what Pak Sako once penned down to make history..

On Justice

"Not only must justice be done - it must be paid to be done."

This sign is stuck on the wall next to my desk at work. A friendly reminder to all my clients who think that they can get away with making me work for them for peanuts or none at all. If there is some service to be done for the public, let me have the choice. No one should get a freebie these days unless they are eligible for it, or if I wish to give the freebie to them. Otherwise, vamooze.