Happy New Year

Dear God,
I want to start 2010 with a prayer of thanks.
Thank you for all your blessings
- my happy family, my stable job, my growing 'special kids', my supportive friends
- good health and peace of heart, mind and soul.

I ask for Your forgiveness for all my transgressions...
- for my moments of folly and doubt
- for my carelessness and pride.

I ask for Your guidance
and fill my heart with Nur & Hikmah
so that all I do will be to seek You.

Help me be strong and steadfast
and that my worldy deeds will lead me to You.

Ameen...ameen...ameen.
Ya Rabbal a lameen.

Chek Jawa Adventures

I did promise that I would continue about Chek Jawa...

It was a day about discoveries,and re-discoveries.
I have already described the fun ride in the rain.  I think God had meant to let me enjoy that experience.  I mean, had it been hot that morning, perhaps I would have been toiling away uncomfortably as I pedalled along the road.

First exciting find was the rubber tree near the bicycle post.  We could not cycle around Chek Jawa itself...you need to hike and trek on foot.  We were concerned about the safety of the bikes, but the bicycle owner had assured us that it was not likely that the bicycles would be stolen.  Anyway, back to the rubber tree...complete with its carefully carved bark and a cup to collect the latex.

It was wonderful to have people to were eager to actually look at the plants and animals up close.  The rain had sent quite a number of creatures into hiding in shelters, but the cries were heard were authentic.  Even birds trilled the sounds of freedom.  Erico was trying to peer into airholes in the mud and sand in search of crabs and other forms of life...but there were only the baby mudskippers enjoying themselves,

Having Faz around was a blessing.  Having grown up in a kampung by the sea, she recognised most of the flora and fauna...and named them for us, including trivia like which are edible.  I was so tempted by the buah nibong (or attap chee) which were found in gorgeous red bunches. 

The highlight(!) was the spectacular watch tower...a wooden structure about 5 storeys high.  Now you know me and my problem with wooden planks...but add to my fear of heights...you get the picture.  Nothing ventured, nothing gained they say...But guess what happened when you have 2 old ladies who are equally frightened but gung-ho at the same time?

I think it was a good thing we were the only group who had braved the rain...cos the silence covering Chek Jawa area was suddenly punctured by hysterical laughter .  Poor Hafiz could not understand why his usually composed mum and her friend burst out in uncontrollable laughter as they slowly made their way up...the giggles mixed with incantations to God to help protect us.  That was how we conquered our fears...releasing stress hee-hee-haha-ing our way to the top.

Once up there, the view was breathtaking...I was winded by the effort and too much laughing...and fear can be paralysing...so I simply sat down, shaking each time the kids moved around.  But Faz and I did it...we made it to the top...But oppps...if you are up, you need to go down again...which was an even scarier experience.  We closed our eyes, and walked sideways like crabs...and praying like mad again.  Yea!

Poor Erico.
He so badly wanted to see part of the coralled areas.  But by then, the tide had come in, and the low sea bed was already covered with water.  I fell in love with the sea moss which the tides brought it.  It made certain areas look as if they are carpeted with lush green carpet.

By then, the rain stopped.
There was a light breeze and we walked along the broadwalk.
I wanted to just take in the sights...of the open sea in front, and the beautiful vegetation behind.
Everything looked so unspoilt...and life, seemed to go at a leisurely pace.

I do not think I could do justice by these descriptions of Chek Jawa.
I hope more people would go to the place, and check out one of the last natural places of beauty Singapore has to offer.
And of course, you must go with others who are willing to share that experience with you.
It was not just the place, but the company, that made the trip memorable.
It is truly something I will never forget.

So,if I get to go to Chek Jawa again,
would anyone like to follow?

What does it mean?

This one was more vivid than ever.

A lonely figure sat by the side of a pool of water.
A group of people came running along.
The leader stopped near that person and their eyes met for a while.
One pair questioning, the other mirroring a myriad of unspoken emotions.

But the last person stumbled suddenly.
One by one, they fell like dominos...
And the leader, in horror, hit the figure who fell into the water.
I saw ripples....
I saw a raised hand.
I saw a self...who was too tired to even struggle to survive.

While others watched in helpless horror,
I woke up with tears in my eyes.

I know you....but who are you?
I am sorry.

What do they mean?

Again, these past nights have been less than restful.
Maybe I tend to overeat dinner these days.
But when the mind is not quite settled, perhaps it can play tricks.

I see faces...some very familiar ones very distinctly.
They speak, but I hear no words.
I ask questions, yet get no replies.
Each time, the expressions do not reveal much either
...like people playing poker; not wanting to show the cards in their hands.

Blue...I see you with that....
The number I see is 6...
Each time,the clock chimes at that hour.
I look up and see a hand reaching out.

I cannot decipher what the symbols mean.
DearGod,
Do not lead me astray but what I see.
Ameen

Time is Short

There are plenty of cliches out there about time, and how precious time is.
Yesterday, when I was sms-ing Sky , I had somehow mentioned to him that this holidays, I tried to do as many things as I had wanted to.  When I texted that 'time is limited', he got rather concerned.

But you know what I mean.
Time is not something that we are able to control.
On an even bigger idea, we know that we are all living on borrowed time - that our hourglasses turned the moment we are born, and that steadily, the sands of time will slip down without us really realising it.

So it is back to choices...
If life is short...how do we choose to live our lives?
Somehow, it is always easier to allow the 'negatives' take over.
That way, we always have something to 'blame' when things do not go right.
We have allowed to feel low and sorry...for we are the 'victims'...
Really?

This is not a holier-than-thou kind of writing.
This is something I want to think about as the year comes to an end,and the new year is about to begin.

What if...2009 is my last year? Or the next?
That I will never know.
But I hope I will be able to feel grateful for a life fulfilled.

Dear God,
Thank you for letting me see another sunrise.
Let me live it to the fullest...in Your ways.
Ameen

Family Time

Initially I had wanted to continue about the Chek Jawa trip, but instead, I will write about what I did with my family over the past few days.

My Abah (father) does not much 'family' besides us - his wife and children and grandchildren.  Unlike Mak who has such a large extended family and is very outgoing and sociable, Abah is more reserved.  When I was growing up, he was always very busy...and emphasised that whatever he did, was for his family.  And now that he is getting on in years, he spends a lot more time 'making up' time, with his grandkids. Yes, he is still the disciplinarian, but the children respect his quiet authority.

When my principal came with me to Pakcik Samad's funeral the other day, she got to observe Akmal and Abah.  They recited verses from the Quran together, and when they were done, Abah took time to explain to Akmal a few things about what needs to be done with the jenazah (body).  It was then that Mrs Yeow make this remark." Your son seems so mature and sensible.  It is nice to see him listening to his grandfather. You need to have them building that strong bond in order for values to be passed down."
Alhamdulillah....Thank you to both my parents for having such a strong hand in raising my kids right.

Anyway, on Christmas Day, Abah wanted us to have lunch together.  My brother and his family had gone off on a holiday, and so it was just me and sis, and our brood.  We made our way down to Arab Street (but Pariaman was closed) and had a feast at 7 Jalan Pisang.  Why did I put down that address?  While it is now part of Hjh Maimunah's Restaraunt, the place where we had our meal was the place my mum, myself and sis grew up.  It was my late grandma's house.

It was a little sad reminiscing about the place...of course the features had changed, and but we tried to place the old ambin (wooden platform where we had our meals or slept), the airwell near the toilets, or the narrow passageways were we had hours of endless fun.

And amid the stories of yesteryears, we of course tucked in on a feast of nasi padang and all its lauk.(dishes).  When I first ordered, Mak was worried that we may not be able to finish...but when you are in the company of people you love...somehow, your appetites grow bigger.  It was nice to see Mak and Abah enjoying the meal despite the racket made by their curious grandkids.

You know, every Hari Raya, after I have met my parents and sought their forgiveness and blessings, I say a pray to Allah for giving me the chance to spend another special day with my parents.  Life , is unpredictable, and each opportunity I get to be with them, is a gift from heaven.  I will cherish each living moment....both theirs and mine....and make as many wonderful memories as possible.

I hope, one day, my children too, will say that prayer for me.

Dear God,
Thank you for giving me the best family possible.
Keep us in Your care and love....
Ameen

Memories made in the rain (Part I)

I have always wanted to take my kids to Chek Jawa.  I have spoke about it in class, and got the students to read up and write about the place.  The only thing left for me to do was actually to be there physically. 

If there was anything I learnt this holidays, it was that if I wanted something badly: - just do it.  Do not wait for reasons, or make up excuses not do so.  I had to wait for Zaf's return for I need a guide, but I was sure Evi and Erico would  love to join me.  Somehow, Faz also got wind that I was going, and so got all excited about it.

The plan was to look at the weather in the morning before deciding to go.  But that's it...no excuses for it had rained incessantly since 6.30am.  By the time we boarded the bus to Changi Village, the skies were thickly grey, and we were pelted down by the drops that fell from the heavens above.

We decided to fill our stomachs with yummy nasi lemak and teh tarik.  I am not much of a rice person, so I had mee rebus and teh-O.  While the rain fell steadily, we got into animated conversations that ranged from photography to shopping malls to almost anything under the sun for almost an hour.

With no indication of a letup in the weather, we decided to make a move to Changi Jetty.  Of course, it was a calculated risk to board a bumboat in rainy weather, for the water would have been very choppy.  They were benefits though for the rain washed away all the smell of diesel.

Anyway, our adventures began on the island itself.  Since we were already wet, there was no need to hire the van.  It would been more fun cycling to the wetlands itself. We donned pink ponchos (I had a yellow one which made me look like Winnie the Pooh), and at some point, I was reminded of a scene in ET the movie where the boys were frantically cycling before they flew into the sky.

Boy, did the rain pour then.  Part of me wished I had winshield wipers over my eyes to wipe away the droplets. We had 4 energetic teens who had to patiently wait for the 40 going on 14 -year-old 'aunties' whose creaking joints could not paddle as fast as them.

But for me, the bicyle ride was an instant reminder of my growing up years.
There was something so thrilling to be soaked to the bone by the rain, without the worries of falling sick.
The muddy, oft-beaten tracks were lined with dense foliage, but how wonderful it was to breathe clean, pure oxygen.
I had to quell a sudden urge to jump into the puddles of water and do a little dance of joy.

It was therapeutic...as if the rain was also cleansing the mind and spirit.
We stopped to gaze at the flora and fauna...simply to appreciate God's creations.  I saw trees which seemed to be calling out to me to climb them.  In my mind, I was the little girl again, at Wak Menah's kampung ...enjoying the simple things that life has to offer.
Most of the time, we cycled in single files, but the young men would often stop and wait to ensure that the ladies were not left behind. 

That's the first part...I'll continue maybe for the next entry.

Dear God,
Today, everything that I saw and experienced, reminded me of Your greatness and benevolence.
You are the Al-Mighty, the All-Knowing.
I am humbled.
And thank you for the rain...for we  had the best time of time. Alhamdulillah
Ameen

A Friend Remembered

Today, I mourn the passing of Pakcik Samat.
He lost his battle with diabetes...all within a short span of about 4 months.

I don't really know why I addressed him as 'Pakcik'...cos he was in his early 50s.
I suppose that was what everyone in school knew him as.

He started off as a contract cleaner with us in early 2003...and because of his dedication and quiet, unobstrusive ways, he was offered to join the school as a caretaker...after we lost another beloved caretaker, Cik Khamis.

Both men worked behind the scenes...making sure that the school was opened way ahead before the first person strolled into the premises at 6.20am...and were the last to leave sometimes. 

Pakcik Samat carried a bunch of keys to open about 120 doors...hahaha...I used to joke that I could hear the clanking of metal before I could physically see him.  He helped me look after my special room, and once per term,  the would conscientiously bring a bottle of Jif to scrub away the graffitti on the tables the students had scribbled.

When his illness took a toll on his health, he struggled when he came back to school.  He still needed the money to support his 2 school-going girls ("I married late, Cikgu", he had said to me with a tinge of regret.)
He became apologetic when he struggled with his responsibilities in school.  I think no student realised that he had lost some of his toes, and moving around was a laborous chore.

He did not complain...neither did he ask for a reduction in work load.
"Cari reski halal" (I need to earn a 'clean' living)...something that he believed in.
He worked and worked, and while we tried to lighten his load, his once well-toned body was reduced to a puffy but skinny frame...ravaged by illness when I last saw him.

Rest in peace, Pakcik Samat.
You fought hard...and you lived your life as an honest, decent man.
I will miss you.

Al-fatihah buat
Abdul Samad bin Mohammed
23 Dec 2009
Ameen

Tick tock tick tock

I had a very restless night....
The numbers don't lie, and the odds are against me.
I have learnt that whatever digits or percentage points that will appear, they all will pivot on those crucial results.

God knows I have tried.
But if I can't, then I am not the person for it.
Kill me if you must, let me go.
But I know that the consequence will be like of the albatross on my shoulder and the virus in my mind.
I will tied to a leash, and constantly haunted, always hunted.

Dear God,
I am accountable.
Please be merciful.
Ameen.

Choose your feelings

I am one who has been writing about making choices.
I know that my stand has always been that to say, " I will always have a choice...and to make the best out of whatever situation I am in."
This entry is to acknowledge the difficulties and challeges I face when I have to apply that.

No matter how much experience one has, or what one has gone through, I feel that whenever a situation presents itself to us, it is hard to act 'as we are used to'.  You see, while a positive mindset is something that we can cultivate and nurture, feelings on the other hand, occur more spontaneously.  We react instinctively.


I can listen to someone telling me a joke, and laugh...or I can blurt out in anger.
I am aware of my trigger points. 
So I guess that it is not so much the situation that creates the feeling alone....I do have some form of choice as to which feeling I can use to respond to the things that happen to me.

Perhaps that is why, it possible to have mixed reactions; or mixed feelings towards certain things.  It is also ok to be unsure.  But I suppose it is important that I cultivate a habit of responding to things more positively rather than negatively.

Last week, it was tough.
I realise the moment I feel that my feelings have been hurt, the wound can fester if I don't learn to let go.
Anger builds, and it does nothing but keeping on burning if I allow it to be fuelled by pessimism.
It took a while to let go,and immediately I could breathe.


Feelings profoundly influence the life you experience, and those feelings are yours to choose in any moment. Choose the ones that give real power to the purpose that lives within you.

Dear God,
I choose to be calm with myself today.
Thank you for your blessings.
Ameen

What they mean to me

Before I sleep tonight, I want to pen down these thoughts.

Earlier today, I had a small group of people over.  It is not possible to invite so many. I do not pick and choose, and it is not a case of finding favorites.  I have long accepted that in God's grand design of things, those are the kids I have grown to love and call my own.

It is something that I cannot explain, nor reason.
Why is each individual so important?
I don't question...I simply accept, and realise how rich my life has become.

Those who did not manage to turn up, you are sorely missed. ...esp Sky, K, M & W,
And those who did...thank you from the bottom of my heart.
Those who stayed long enough, thank you for filling the house with music and laughter.
And also thank you , AB...for being there...

Dear God,
My humble gratitude for the gifts and blessings you bestowed upon me.
I am deeply moved.

Dancing in My Dreams

I needed something to uplift my spirits today.
I found a song that really captures the essence of the username I use, and my wish that I could dance.
This song, :Dance My Dream', comes from a movie called "First Daughter."...something quite inspirational.
It is sung by a beautiful singer, Tamia.

"Dance My Dreams
Spinning, twirling, flying away

Memories guide me from yesterday
Time will reveal my destiny
So why should I fight
What's right for me?

Chorus:
I'll live, I'll breathe
I'll dance my dreams
Hold me, kiss me
Look through my eyes

Know me, oh feel me
No more disguise
So why should I fight
What's planned for me?

Chorus

Take my hand
Dance in my world
As I live, I breathe
I dance my dreams
Tomorrow will be mine

Today is ours
I will never let go
Until time unwinds
Today I have just arrived


And yea...I found my old animated blogskin...
Dear God
I need to dance today; even if it means in my dreams.
Ameen

The Turtle Mode

Those who have been to my office will know that I have a collection of turtles and tortises.  I don't know how or why I develop a penchant for the creatures, so when the menagerie began.  One thing for sure, it is not from watching Teenaged Mutant Ninja Turtles while Zafran was growing up.

But today, I realised an even deeper significance I have with the shelled creatures.  Someone made a passing remark about me having "Turtle Tendencies." I thought it was because I am slow, but the person said that  it is because I tend to retreat within ,and  I go out of my way to avoid confrontations.  I 'hide' until the coast is clear, and I feel safe again.  I supposed so...when the mind and spirit are beleaguered, I need to hide in my own self-made haven.

I am operating on that turtle mode right now...
For today, it feels as though I hit rock bottom.  Right now, it feels as though I am nursing the mother of all migraines.Something hurts badly.   I want to crawl into a cave and stay there for a few days, away from people.

I know I am not supposed to feel this way.  After all, I had a good time lately...
No, it is not about going back to school either. I am glad for work.
The results released today was quite good.  I applaud the effort put in by my colleagues.  Well done.

Yes...why do I feel so demoralised and so urgh?
I guess that maybe the fear of next year's results....Maybe. But I will worry when that time comes...for no point losing sleep about getting my head chopped off. Maybe it is a lot of unspoken fears and insecurities.

The turtle mode has allowed me, I think,  to enclose myself within...thinking I could cut myself off from certain things.  Unfortunately, this is not the case. The one thing I am never able to do is shut off feelings, and be totally devoid of emotions. That is my weakness.

I felt it so hard this morning...
Picking up waves after waves of unsteady vibes in the air...reaching out and calling...
The whole auras of jumbled colours...flickering bright and then darkening...
I could not shut it off completely...and plus the fact that there was more than one frequency.

And then I read something...
Damned...
The tears started swelling up in my eyes...Right there and then, I had wanted to write something in return.

But I refused to let the dam break.
I would not...I cannot afford to...
I cannot let my guard down...for I am weak.

This is one mentally and emotionally spent turtle.
I got no where to run to anymore, except poke my head out again.

Dear God,
Please help me learn to trust...and believe...

Stopping to smell the...er...?

The past few days, I took time off as promised to spend time with my children.  With Zafran away in Japan, and the fact   that I was not going away on a holiday, I guess it was time to make sure that I did something fruitful.

Monday was a promise that I kept to myself...a little indulgence on my part.
I have been meaning to go to a spa for ages, and I finally took up on Shuhaila's offer.  I should thank my lucky stars that I have an ex-student who actually owned one...and boy, did I get a classy treatment.  So while the kids went bowling with my other half, I spent the time soaking in a jacuzzi followed by a good two hour massage.  I felt like prata dough...kneaded  and flexed and pulled and stretched.  I could feel the pair of strong hands loosening the taut and tensed muscles. I creaked, groaned and rumbled...but there was something comforting about the session.  I literally felt weight lifted off my shoulders.

Tuesday...hmmm...
I had wanted to touch base with another person.....but ... ah well....
Very very very disappointed.

So the plans changed and took Akmal and Iffah down to explore Orchard Rd....something which I have not done for ages.
First stop was Orchard Central...not so much to shop, but experience the escalator ride up.
I ended up being weak in the knees...there is something eerie about ascending up four stories (from level 7 to 11) from glass partitians and looking down at the traffic and buildings below....Even the elevators were glass panelled...so scared myself silly going up and down (ya...ya...plus claustrophobia). It was even worse cos Akmal had a habit of looking over the escalator sides and pointing out excitedly at things...Can pengsan.

Then over at 313 Orchard, Akmal got excited that the upper floors. Why? He has a fetish for carpets...and the floor were covered with them.  I had to make sure that he did not roll over like the does at home.  We walked down to Ion...and I found out that one of my favourite shops, Bobbi Brown was there...hmm...maybe time for a makeover (as if that would work).  And of course, to give the kids a treat, we went to Swenson's Ion...which had an ice-cream buffet...Yes...You read right ICE CREAM BUFFET!...eat all you want...until it oozes out of your eyes and ears.

No lah...I was not that greedy.(though I ate 4 different chocolate flavours at one go).  Not a bad deal...The buffet offered all 50 flavours of ice cream, gelato and sorbet...along with the different toppings....There were cakes and pies offered along with waffles and pancakes...Plus  chocolate and strawberry fountains to make fondue.  I shall not reveal how much I ate...but lets say the money was well-spent by hubby and Akmal who could down the different possible combinations of sundaes.

And today, was another fruitful day.
I took 3 others with me to the zoo...and I must say, it was a truly enjoyable outing.
The long MRT ride itself was an adventure, and so was the bus ride.  But it was great being with people who seemed to be thrilled exploring everything.  Not just the animals, but the plants and the environment too.  Each stop was an adventure; with something new to be discovered.  So thank you Aimee, Evi & Erico....of course Iffah and Akmal. (next adventure coming up pretty soon ok?)

I am glad that I took this time off to be with people I love, and whose company I treasure.
It's true...stop and smell the roses occasionally, and life can become more meaningful.

Expect Nothing ....

Today's lesson was...when you expect nothing in return, you really get nothing.
I truly understand...
A door gets slammed in my face...
It is better not to open it in the first place.

No...No...No

Instead of banging my head against the  wall each time I spoke to my porcupines, I decided to look up for some answers to why they derive so much pleasure(?) by being so bull-headed.  This is what I found.

Negativism is a behaviour charaterised by the tendency to resist complying to suggestions and directions...something which happens I think 95 % of the time.  Make a polite request, and you'll get a direct no in return...No amount of cajoling, or even appeal to good sense will make the person change the fixed mindset.

According to studies, negativism appears and wanes at various stages of a person's development. Active negativism, that is, behavior characterized by doing the opposite of what is being asked, is commonly encountered with young children. I think we think of this stage as the 'terrible two and three' when a child tries to exert his automony..."No,No,No."...is the automatic response that has exasperated many a befuddled parent.
Studies have revealed that negativism develops during the first year of life, and resurfaces during toddlerhood and again during adolescence. Yup...the teenaged years is sometimes punctuated with either sullen sulky silence, or loud outbursts.  Yes...all teens feel that the world is against them...that they are at the receiving end of all the actions of their forefathers. So they shut their eyes and ears from whoever they think have contributed to their pathetic lives...and somehow revel in an amount of self-pity.

Negativism is often used by adolescents as a way to assert their autonomy from their parents and to control their own behavior. But here lies the danger.  It is not something that you can easily snap out off. It is almost cancerous in nature, for it takes over the whole being. When negativism does not diminish, it becomes a characteristic of the individual's personality. Negativism is an aspect of one of the essential features of oppositional-defiant disorder, characterized by a pattern of behavior that is defiant, negativistic, and hostile toward authority figures.  People like this do not trust anyone, except themselves, and will always be suspicious to people and their motives.  They do not appreciate kindness, and find it difficult to accept, when good is done to them.

*** I suppose I will have to keep on learning in order to understand.

Dear God,
Please preserve my sanity for if I do understand,
I need to keep on going despite the odds.
Ameen.

A funny thing called Love

This entry is for someone who is feeling rather confused right now.

I have watched you grow the past few years, and I do think that you are one of the most sensible persons I know.  Most of the time, you have your feet planted firmly on the ground, and you are clear about your goals.

But what has happened?
All of a sudden, you turned into a bowl of mush.
For someone who once vowed "No girl shall ever distract me from achieving what I want in life,"...you now seemed to have lost your sense of direction.

I warned you it was coming, but you had been so sure of yourself.
I have seen far too many of what cupid's arrow is capable to doing to a person's logic and reasoning, and more importantly, the havoc it wrecks on an unsuspecting individual.

I am not saying you are wrong...
But love is indeed a 'funny' emotion.
At your stage now, it has reduced you to a wreck.

Love is supposed to be positive...It is actually.
But I guess to you, it is something so unpredictable and irrational.
It is supposed to make you feel happy and contented, yet it robs you of your confidence and a peace of mind.

Love happens...
There is no 'timetable' when it will happen, or how it will happen.
It can strike at the most unpredictable and unexpected time,under circumstances which you probably cannot justify.

To you , all these emotions are new...
It  can be exciting and yet frustrating...a bliss and yet gut shattering. 
It has made you so unsure...so weak.

I do not have the answers for you...
It is sad...but you have to go through it yourself.
But I believe that if you get through this, you will emerge better and stronger.
It may not work out the way you want it to, but keep on believing in yourself.

Good luck,,,
If she does not accept you, then, it is she who does not know the value of a gem...
You are precious.

Spreading Your Wings

For the past few days, everyone at home (ya...everyone) has been busy helping Zafran pack. He will be leaving on a school trip to Tokyo, Japan with his peers from SRJC. He will be away for a week. I should say that he has been very lucky this time round.  The 22 students who are going are those considered with leadership potential, and he being the only Malay student chosen.

I step back for a while to reflect on how much he has grown.
I am a proud mother, and blessed to have such a son.
I know he gets  by in school, by sheer hard work and determination...driven by an instrinstic motivation to make his family proud.  (This is not a boast, for I think he gets that from me)...We both are not academically outstanding...but we survive and reach our goals quietly and steadily.

I am gratified each time I hear positive comments from his teachers.
"You have a well-mannered, pleasant child."  That makes any mother's day. 
Oh I am sure he has his naughty side too...but he seems well-adjusted.  I am blessed because my child still wants to speak to me, and tell me things...(haha...I know...not everything though)

I celebrate the milestones in his life...and support him during his struggles...
I shed a tear when he received his SPDF badge.
It was a leap of faith...to go to Haj, and not hear from him...as he trekked up the mountains in Kinabalu.
As he grew, he began seeing more and more of the world on his own...to HK and other places.
Two weeks ago, I saw a new side, a young man exploring possibilities in the world as he did his job attachment at Rajah and Tann, a prestigious law firm.

One day...he will leave the nest...
But I will pray...that as he spreads his wings, and finds his destiny,
he will be anchored by his values...and love.

Mama loves you Zafran.
As much as I love Iffah and Akmal...for each of you is unique and special.

Dear God,
Watch over my first-born as he goes on his trip.
Open his eyes wide as he sees the world, so that he will have a deeper appreciation of You and
Your Blessings.Ameen

Have a safe journey, Zafran
(and bring back a Hello Kitty for me)
Love, Mama

Kebobrokan

Yesterday, I was stumped by the word above when I read the Malay papers. I mean, a cursory glance of the headlines first left the impression that the word was 'keburukan' (the vices).  Well, while I am not proud of the fact that my competency in my own mother tongue language is far below my proficiency in English language, I guess my prediction was not too far off the mark.

But seriously...
Look at the ills of my community.  It has long been an issue that the Malays are not only lagging behind academically, but now, the main concerns is that we are even widening the gap socially.  The point is not just to do some finger pointing, or go deep to analyse the root cause of all these un-Malay behaviour...But then again,...really un-Malay? Or, have the recent ugly cases highlight the heart of the Malays themselves?

It is a vicious cycle, and no matter how we look at it, something has got to be done.
How many more little children have to suffer at the hands of thoughtless 'adults'? Al-fatihah for the souls of the late Edy, and Nonoi...and many others who lost their lives through cruel abuse...and a pray for those who have fallen prey to incest and senseless crimes committed by non-other by those who are 'family.

I know I will be guilty of making the worst assumptions and flawed reasoning...but look at things this way.

The Malays...
We still have the highest number of teenaged marriages. (No, I have nothing against marrying young). But a) a lot of these marriages are 'cover-ups' or shot-gun marriages arranged to cover the 'shame' of pre-marital liaisions b) a legal way some parents view to end the 'gatalness' of their children.  c) a quick way to gain 'freedom and independence'

But...
who are those who marry early or young?
Mainly those, who belong to the lower social strata...Not likely those who are pursuing higher education and or establishing themselves in more stable careers.
Are we really a community who think that 'asal cukup makan'?...that we are easily satisfied with our lot?
How far sighted are we as a community?
A lot of the young people naively think that LOVE is the most crucial ingredient to a long lasting and stable marriage.  Love alone is never enough.

The numbers do not lie.
While we are the minority group, how come statistically, we hold the highest number of divorces and re-marriages?  Why are we still the group producing the largest number of children?  How many of these children fall victims to broken , dysfunctional, multi-families?

Education has come far in Singapore.
That is one area where as a people, we stand an equal chance to prove ourselves and capability.  Yet, again, I see the high number of my people in the 'less-academically inclined streams'.  For years, we tried to push up the academic grades at all national levels, yet...we have the highest number of mainstream school leavers.  It is so so so sad.

There is just too much to think and reflect about.
We have a critical problems on our hands...
The question now is...what are we going to do about it?


Prayer for the day:
Dear God,
I thank you for Your Blessings.  I am the lucky one.
and I pray for your continued Love and Protection.
Ameen

Is this really the best of all possible worlds?

I have been trying to understand some of the philosophical arguments put forth through the years.  Maybe it is a part of my own journey into discovering my self and my own existence.  Yes, there are things which, as part of my faith, I believe, but occasionally, it is good to question.

Leibniz was a famous rationalist philosopher, who tried to make sense of the sufferings and injustices in the world...for if God is omnipotent and omnibenevolent, all that would not exist. As a rationalist, he thinks that reason take precedence over other ways of acquiring knowledge.

I think it is a little hard for me to swallow all that wholesale...
According to what I have read, this is how he derived that line of reasoning.

a) It is God who has chosen to create this world, otherwise, nothing would exisit.
b) There is such a thing as the 'principle of sufficient reason'...which would seem to show that there has to be an explanation why God has chosen to create this world rather than another.
c) God choice of creating this world must be then found in His attributes, since there was nothing else around then.
d) And because God is the Almighty who is perfect, he then created the best possible world....It is the only possible world...for he would not create a world that is not.

Ahhh...the Rationalist...
To him..the world is simply what it is...

There is this rather interesting analogy that follows
The optimist says." The glass if half full"
The pessimist says, "The glass is half empty."
The rationalist says, " This glass is twice as big as it needs to be."

hahaha...no wonder I sigh over that.

Dear God,
Guide me through my journey,
to re-discover You and Your Greatness.
Ameen.

I thought of someone...who is not around.
The feeling of loss struck hard and deep.



The words of comfort I found are these:

When someone you love leaves you, or goes away forever, weep not.

Do not repress the grief by trying to forget; revel in the joy of remembering.

Take comfort, that the person means much, and loved you much,

And that you too, have loved in return.



I will try...
to remember you...

Dear God
Watch over...please
Ameen

Voices... prayers for you.

I had a strange dream last night.
I was by the water, twirling ringlets with my finger.  I cannot figure where I was, but just aware that I was surrounded by colours. Not vivid nor bright, mutedly quiet as they went through the entire colour wheel.

I felt was I was searching for something that was in the water.  I think I must have dropped something, yet I was not frantic...as if I was certain that the object would surface in the little whirlpools I was creating.  But when the water stilled, and the ripples calmed, something surreal happened.

From somewhere, the Voices came...
Some familiar, some stilted, some soft; others loud and jarring.
All wanted to say something to be me...I heard them all, and yet, it was like being in the tower of Babel.  I understood, and yet I could not catch the message.

But one line stood out.
"Find me...help me."
It was like a bolt out of the blue...and with a start, I woke up.

Whoever you are...I will try.

Dear God,
If it is Your Will...lead the way.
Ameen.

Pages from the Past: One Bad Apple

Recently I cleared my cupboards, and came upon a 'relic'. Long before the internet age, I had penned down my writing in notebooks.  There were a few of them; old, yellowed and the ink barely legible due to age. But I felt a sense of excitment; for in those pages were stories I wrote when I harboured a secret desire to be a writer someday.  Hahaha...how things have changed.

But for those of who who enjoy writing, here is one entitled, "One Bad Apple".

She lost count how many times she had polished the fruit.
As a child, she had helped Grandma at the small market stall and knew that the customers would always be attracted to fruits that looked juicy and fresh.  The red apple gleamed under the pale night sky, its frangrance redolent.

"Why do you line up your apples and pears this way, Nana?  How come you put aside those?" Edwina heard her child-like voice asking Grandma years ago. Meticulously, Grandma  would go through the baskets of produce each morning, checking every individual fruit.

A gentle, wrinkled face smiled back and patted her head rather absently.
"Win, these are the that we sell.  You see those in the other basket?" Grandma's voice was soft, patient and soothing.  She walked over slowly, and took up an apple, that to Edwina's eyes, no different from the rest.  Grandma placed the it into the little girl's hands. The hands that covered hers were warm and comforting.

"Look carefully Win.  What do you see? What do you smell? What can you feel?"
Edwina stared long and hard.  The apple had a deep red skin, and a slight fruity yet tarty smell.  It was round and firm...and yet at the bottom, was a tender, bruised spot, that was soft to the touch.

"It's different here, Nana." she chirped, happy at the sudden discovery.  Otherwise, the fruit would have been perfect.

"That, my child, makes all the difference why I put it in this basket and not there.  You see, this apple is spoilt.  If I leave it together with the other apples, within a few days, all the other apples would go bad too.  There is a Western saying,"One bad apple spoils the whole barrel."...So you be good ok Wina, and grow up and make me happy."

"Of course Grandma...I love you the best in the whole wide world." she promised as she skipped away to play.

...Grandma...
Her reverie was momentarily broken and Edwina shivered when a cold wind blew.
The water lapped gently below her knees.
"Oh Grandma...I miss you."

Fate dealt her a cruel blow, and Edwina's sole caregiver left quietly one night to meet her Creator.  Edwina at 18, was left to fend for herself.  A little too old to be made ward of the state, and a little too young to be financially independent, Edwina had no choice but to leave her sheltered existence behind.  Not only did she lose her beloved Nana, she losely lost herself too.

She had to give up her hopes and dreams.
She had excelled in school, but could not afford to carry on.
She went out like a proverbial sacrificial lamb into the world of hungry predators...and a new Edwina emerged.  She met a much older man named Lionel who promised her the earth, moon and the entire universe.  He swept her off her feet, and for awhile, Edwina felt loved and safe again.

But she soon learnt the bitter truths about life.
She learnt the ugly side of human nature, and how promises can be empty.  She saw how cruel fate can be, when Lionel, upon learning that she was pregnant, had discarded her like a broken, unwanted toy.

"Ms Edwina...I am sorry to inform you...that..you are HIV positive."

Momentarily her eyes flew open as she shuddered at the memory.
The doctor's voice was cold and distanced...as if he blamed her for the fate about to befall on her unborn child.  Lionel had left her with two parting gifts...

By then, Edwina was oblivious to the cold.
She gently patted her rounded belly tenderly, and allowed herself to feel the slight butterfly-like moments of the life within her. "Poor little baby. You will be all right."

She again held up the apple against the starless sky.
She looked around for the tiny bruised spot.

"I am so sorry, Grandma.  I failed you.  I am your bad apple. But I will not spoil anyone else.
That...I will promise."

With that, she flung the fruit ahead in the water...and slowly allowed herself to be embraced by the cold, open sea.