Remembering Diana

 

 

 

 

For The Love Of His Wife

 

 

 

For the love of his wife, it was not for fun, but my leg was betraying me.

Too Crowded

When it gets too crowded, we get out. Don’t let the worms’ feast on us. Don’t tell the wind our secrets, so we can always be friends with the tree and kill the curiosity of the worms.

I Was Hit By The Heat Wave

The weather has been extremely hot these few days. The portable air conditioner that we have was too noisy to stay on for the whole day, especially in the night. We have no choice but to do what the rest of the neighbors are doing, to open all our windows even in the night. The only disadvantage is that our house is facing the courtyard and the greenery; therefore, we have a lot of uninvited bugs entering the house.

The day before yesterday, I had to go and run some errands. Going out of the house in this weather is not something that I love doing, but errands must be completed. The fasting in summer is super long hours, and I was hoping that I am good not to be hit by the heat wave and get dehydrated.

I need to do a lot of walking to complete the errands; I could feel the sweat dripping down my spine, on my forehead, underneath the frame of my glasses, above my lips, and my feet too were oozing out sweat. My head began to spin and then there was a very sharp pain from the back of the head. The pain was unbearable but I carried on, a couple of times I do feel like puking but I held on to all these absurdity as I want to complete all the errands and not break my fast.

By the time I reached home I was exhausted, no amount of air conditioning, fan or the wind from outside could make the horrible headache go away, my whole body was as sticky as super glue. I tried to sleep my headache away but it was just not working. Finally, I decided to climb into the bath tub and take a very long cool shower. It was so refreshing, but was not refreshing enough to sooth the headache away.

I carried on like a zombie, how I managed the evening meal which we took at around 8pm, I don’t know. In between the meal, I quickly took my magic pill with the hope that my headache will be put to rest. After the meal, I cleaned up, put my thin mattresses on the floor and before long I was sleeping like a baby and the headache was a distant pain.

I was hit by the heat wave.

"Takkan Melayu Hilang Di Dunia"

Along the way in this life I met a lot of people who were and are married to different races and religions. There were times that I admire them as their offspring are ridiculously cute and adorable, and to top all that some of them are super smart lads too.

What amazes me though is that most of these people do not seem to come to an in between life, often the husband will follow the cultural or religious belief of the wife, but many wives do also proudly take over the cultural life style of the husband, so much so that she no longer remembers her original identity.

Since I am Malay, I will now write about my observation of the so called Malay who has turned to be “Mat Salleh” or “orang putih” direct translation westerners or white. First and foremost the names of their children are no longer that of a Malay name, then the food that they serve in their house will no longer have anything to do with a Malay dish, next comes to the way they dress, all are no longer depicting that of Malay. I would believe if they could change their look, skin color and so on, they would, so long that they are no longer Malay.

I have a girlfriend who is Malay and a Muslim and married to an Australian, she told me that because she does not want her only child to be outcast by friends in school, she, therefore allows him to consume pork but she is not serving it in the house though. I was too surprised to comment or say anything.

Then I have another girlfriend a Malay Muslim too married to an English man. Her husband is just a fantastic guy, very down to earth, very nice but super heavy drinker. In order to be able to be a good company to her husband, she too started to drink and has become a very good one at that now, all her children only speak English and no Malay words are to be spoken in her house. I was like, are you for real? This is because she does not want to offend her husband who does not understand the Malay language.

Anyways, to each his own, but what is also very sad now, is that more and more Malays just wannabe “orang putih”, but why? I mean I am not a big fan of the Malay race but I will defend that race anytime if they are to be disgraced. But, it still amazes me why the inferiority of not wanting to be your own skin?

I have seen one too many either here or back home, “Melayu yang mudah lupa” and what will happen to this race in ten years to come?

"Takkan Melayu Hilang di Dunia" this was what Hang Tuah said, do you think his words will now be a paradox of yesterday?

Be A Squirrel, Not A RAT

 

 

 

Living is no laughing matter: you must live with great seriousness like a squirrel, and make living your whole occupation.

I Won't Let Go

The Secrets And Us

Are you still fishing?

Are you still trying hard to smell and to snoop?

Are you still of the opinion that you could get what you want?

I can only tell you, keep on fishing

Keep on smelling

Keep on snooping

For our lips have been sealed and locked

And the keys thrown deep into the ocean

Therefore, our secrets are safe

And to the grave we will go together

The secrets and us

My Sister Was A Boy

When you come from a big family of eight siblings, and living with your grandparents with their children, one can only imagine how havoc life could be at one point or the other. I always remember the high noisy moments and low noisy moments, I will always remember the smell of good food cooking in the kitchen, as my aunties will be taking charge in that department.

But most of all I still remember and is still puzzled about the beginning of how my sister was a boy. I am smiling as I am writing this, I must be so blur then because I really don’t remember how it all began. All I can remember was that my younger sister was allowed to dress as a boy to go to school and in her everyday life. She was even wearing her hair just like a boy, very short and neatly combed, and staying shining with the help of the ever so famous Brylcreem hair cream.

Was it normal then to cross dress your kids, and none from the society will say anything?
Anyways, she was dressed as a boy for a long time, ha ha ha I cannot help laughing as I try to remember how cute could that be right. So, it was accepted by everyone I guess, if not how so my grandparents and my parents will be buying her boys uniform for school instead of girls’ uniform. I also don’t remember when she was actually forced to change to start wearing girls’ uniform, but it was one of those moments when school has to interfere.

I think one day she was sent back to change into her own gender uniform from school, I could only imagine in that age she must be devastated because she was comfortable in her skin and wearing boys uniform for many years.

Therefore, from that moment on she had no choice but to start wearing girls’ uniform to school, and how my grandparents managed to convince her was another mystery to me, while maintaining her boys’ attire at home.

When she totally changed, discarding the boys’ attire in total, I could not recall.

My sister was a boy……………….. *smile*

OCD

My husband thinks that I am weird and an OCD when all I want was:

- To put the toilet seat down after he used it

- To burn the incense stick each time anyone uses the toilet

- To follow the color code of the clothes arrangement in the cabinet

- To put things at the right angel as it was before he took it

- To sanitize my kitchen each time I am done cooking

- To make sure that the kitchen sink is dry at all time of the day

- To make sure that things are arranged as neatly in the fridge

- To make sure that he puts his shoes straight facing the wall and not any other way

- To make sure that he hangs his wet towel with equal sides facing each other

- To make sure that he will take his undies from the bottom and not the top

Does that mean I am not normal?

Having Nothing Was Everything

 

It’s funny how sometimes memories of yesterday suddenly can fill you up with a lot of joy, even if it was only for a moment. This morning after my ‘subuh’ prayer and while taking out my attire, I remember how when we were younger, my two elder sisters and I used to disturbed each other, even when we were praying.

Looking back at it now, I remember whenever we had something funny or silly to share, we will be laughing so much, for so long and it even got extended to the moment that we were standing on the praying mat. As we will take turn to say our prayer, which normally my eldest sister will do first, me (the notorious one) will sit on her side and start to replay the joke and laugh. This will force my sister to lose her concentration in praying and start to laugh too.

We will take turn to repeat this behavior until we heard the shrilling voice of my mother from where ever she could hear our intolerable behavior. Mom’s voice will quiet us for a while, but that does not mean we are over the laughing games. To ditch anyone who continues with the disturbance, we will sometimes quickly run to the room and lock it until we finished the prayer.
I don’t know why this memory came to me today, but it brought a smile to my face, those were the good old days, days when sisters were meant to be forever, the days that nothing else matters but sisters, the days when nothing can hurt us as long as we have sisters. I miss those days, I do.

Today, we don’t laugh as hard any more, we are thousands of miles away from each other. We live our lives forgetting that those were the moments we wish we could reminisce in. Life was simple then, life was easy, having nothing was everything as long as we have sisters.

P/S: Images courtesy of my Little Angel

Purifying

Due to my bone condition, sleeping on the bed was beginning to be a chore. I could hardly clock a good hour of sleeping, as it caused my back, left and right arms to hurt so much. This was made worse by the constant spasms and non-stop movement of my fingers and toes.

I decided to go and look for medical mattresses, they have some impressive collections here, but………… well, the prices were not impressive enough for me. The real good medical mattresses range from Euros 3,000 and above, that was beyond what I can afford.

Hubby and I then decided that we should get some thin mattresses and start sleeping on the floor instead, we did just that. Initially, it was not so comfortable for me, this is because I am used to sleeping on super thick mattresses, and on a super king size bed. The change was quite drastic for me especially, but we are getting used to sleeping on the floor now. I recognized that it was super cool to sleep in this manner, and it proved to be very good for my back, though not so for my left and right shoulder. I guess you cannot have them all.

The hard surface of the floor is an added advantage for me as there was no bouncing up and down of the bed; it is blissful, comfortable and really stable. It also provides good posture to my body while sleeping and allowed me to breath properly when my body was not crouched by the mattress on a bed.

By the way the Sufis have a proverb: If you sleep on the floor, you won’t fall out of bed. True enough. But are there are other reasons to do such a thing? Surprisingly, yes sleeping on the floor can become a part of a very good therapy for your back.

I read somewhere that when you sleep on a hard surface and on your back, you can avoid having wrinkles. I don’t know if this is true or not, I am just quoting what I had read somewhere. Honestly, he he he I have no wrinkles even at this age as a granny.

I now encourage people to sleep on the floor, be it with a thin mattress or just a comforter, give it a try, it is less messy then sleeping on a bed, cheaper to maintain and easy to keep tidy, besides of course a good back. The first few nights may be difficult, but if you don’t give up, you will find that your body will accommodate and you will have a pretty good night sleep.

Sleeping on the floor is simply purifying and it is like playing camping.

I like.

Adoption

While watching TV one day, my little angel asked me “mama, if your mother gave you away for adoption, would you go and look for her when you know it?”

Coincidently, we were watching something about adoption on the TV.

My response to her question was very quick, simple and how I truly feel about it, and it sounded this way, “no, I will not go and look for my birth mother, why should I, if she loves me, she would not have given me away for adoption.”

To my surprise, my little angel said, “yes, mama, you are right, if I am in that situation, I will not go and look for my birth mother.”

Looking back now, was it my alter ego speaking to her or was it just an over protective love of a mother?

I don’t know.

Fatso Unforgotten

 

This is Fatso, he came to our family by adoption from the SPCA. Fatso was a sad cat; we were of the opinion that he must have been very badly treated before he was rescued by the SPCA. He caught our eyes because he was looking so sad, since that first meeting Fatso became a member of the family.

Initially all he did was to hide under the table or the piano, he was afraid of noise and was always beware of his surrounding, until such time that he was comfortable with the family, that he started to play and was a joy to us.

Then Fatso became sick, he had to be taken to the veterinarian many times. We discovered that Fatso got irritated when we touched his stomach, it was like as though he was in pain, but the vet did not comment on his stomach situation, so no one noticed that Fatso actually had a growth that was causing the pain.

His conditions deteriorate and we had to confine him to one of the guest bathrooms, this is because he was littering all over the place and couch. However, he was never a noisy cat, everyday his litter box will be cleaned by Chef Diva, and she will also go play with him and make sure that he was fed.

I don’t really remember how we discovered that Fatso was missing, until the shrill of Chef Diva one day got us all running to see that Fatso was dead in his confined area. He died from the growth in his stomach I assumed. Chef Diva took care of Fatso’s final rights.

We miss him and never had any more cats after that.

RIP Fatso.

Secrets

“If you reveal your secrets to the wind you should not blame the wind for revealing them to the trees.”
Kahlil Gibran quotes

To my angels, no matter how alien any one will make you feel, keep your secrets close to your heart. Never ever share your secrets for the value of money, for money can buy everything but your own dignity.

Scratching Like A Cat

My shoulder and right arm are hurting me so much lately; it got to the point that to scratch or to soap myself in the shower is not possible because of the pain and spasm that follows. Because of the fasting month, I also could not take any pain killers to overcome the pain.

Since three months back I have decided to change my personal doctor. The old doctor that has been attending to me for more than four years, does nothing more, but sending me for too much of blood tests, X-rays and Ultrasound, he even requested for an MRI which I ignored totally. Of late also I found him quite annoying, so I have now moved on to a husband and wife team of doctors. They are old school, very meticulous, explained every detail of my situation to me, and have got loads of patience.

On my second appointment with him, I took the heaps of X-Rays that I have and he explained to me what action is to be taken. Firstly, we are going to start with the cocktail of Anesthetic and Cortisone injection, if this does not work then it will be the injection with physiotherapy, finally if these too do not work then I will have to go under the knife. Since the pain has also moved to my neck, I am surrendering myself in his good hand.

So, yesterday at around 1500 hours I took my first shot from my new doctor, I chose not to break my fast as in my mind it is not something that I took to quench my hunger or desire but something to overcome my pain. insyaAllah, the Lord will accept my fasting of yesterday.
Due to the effect of the injection, I am, yes sleeping like a baby, just sleeping even on my normal non sleeping moments, itching all over, and I am like a cat that scratches itself constantly to take off the lice from their skin…………………. Eeewwwwwwww imagine that.

For now I am good, the pain has not gone totally, but the spasm has stopped, Alhamdulillah.

My Baby Boo

 

My Chef Diva is missing me, and you know what your mama is missing you more. I miss kissing you, I miss hugging you, I miss you crawling next to me in my bed, I miss tickling you, I miss the excitement in your voice, I miss your little snores when you sleep, I miss your curiosity in life, most of all I am just missing you.

I miss you baby boo so so so so mucho and you know that right?

Tea Anyone?

 

I have decided to stop taking the commercial branded tea, if anyone doesn’t know I am a tea drinker. I love my tea light with a bit of sugar. A good pot of tea will make my day; I have tea with crackers, tea at lunch, dinner and tea all the time.

Not too long ago I discovered that most of the commercial branded tea are super unhealthy, factory produced with poor quality control and that might be harmful to the body in the long run. Some of the brands even use artificial coloring, gosh and to think that I was a ‘tea tarik’ maniac then. I can only imagine how much that could have affected my body, anyways, what’s done is done.

Now tea has a new chapter and meaning in my life, this is how I drink my tea or I consider as tea. It is a mixture of cinnamon stick, dry mint leaves, lemon juice and ginger, put them together except the lemon juice and bring to boil over medium heat for at least an hour. Just before drinking add the lemon juice and some sugar, in my case I use the sugar free. Sip the tea slowly and indulged in the sensation of the taste of each item that comes into making the tea, just heavenly.

Tea anyone

I Might Begrudge

I decided to change the Cloak (Telekung) today, as it has already exceeded three days of usage. By far this is the best telekung that I have; it was given to me by a friend a very long time ago. In between more friends had given me the same gift, but none compares to my old one.

I like my telekung in one color preferably white or baby yellow (very light yellow) and only in one simple design, no overelaborate laces or embroidery or mixed colors. Most importantly the material of the telekung has to be of very high quality cotton. The length of the telekung has to be at least half way covering my sarong. I know being that fussy; I can never get one that is ready made.

Coming back to my old telekung, it has now the tell-tale signs of old age, the sarong has given way at the joint many times, and the Cloak is also having some tears under the chin. However, because it is my favorite I have stitched it up a couple of times and I am sure that no stitches could hold the sarong as well as the Cloak any longer. It will be so sad if I have to discard off the sarong totally, and later on the Cloak will have to follow suit.

Living life here, I noticed that the ladies do not wear the same attire as I do at the mosque and during prayers. They wore their ordinary dresses and cover their head with a head scarf, whiles their hands and legs are left uncovered, but then again the ladies have a place totally non visible to the man. I am still not used to not wearing my Cloak for prayers, though I appreciate that it is much simpler the way the ladies here are attired for prayers.

Having not much choice, I will now have to start getting used to the other telekung that I have been keeping at the back of my cabinet. You know, I just want to be comfortable and happy when I am talking to the Lord in my prayers. Therefore, when I am not comfortable in my Cloak I am afraid that I might begrudge the material while I am shrouded in it.

Help me Lord.

This Is You

 

 

Adik doing what she enjoys most, and I hope you love it. In her eyes, this is YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!

I Take Pride In This Marriage

  

Sometimes when I look and think of my husband, who in my eyes is so amazing, I don’t know why he is with me. There were moments that I thought I might not be good enough for him but one thing I will always be sure of is that I make him happy, I make him smile, I make myself silly in his arms, I make myself a clown for him to laugh at, I am the maid that he forgot he never had, and that is everything that I want to be as his wife.

One day I asked him, “honey, will you still be walking next to me if I need to use the walking stick to walk?”, he quickly responded, “I will get one so that we can always be walking together.”

What more can I asked for, except that I really take pride in this marriage of ours.

Mama

Mama in her eyes.

Annoying Buskers

 

 

I don’t like buskers, my perception of them is just pure laziness; you can find them everywhere here. However, some buskers are worth a penny or two and they don’t come around too often. There were days that I felt ashamed for these buskers, as it becomes so obvious that they have run out of ideas to beg.

This picture is a very good example of a bad busker, ……………………… “helloooooo get real will you? It is not even Halloween!!!!!”. Please come back with a better idea.

I Am Super Good

Seriously, I can proudly pledge that I am super good at:

- “sembat baju kurung johor” I am not sure what is the direct translation for this. It is the art of hand stitching a ‘baju kurung’. Many of us now don’t mind wearing the machine sewn ‘baju kurung’ but I love mine with the hand stitches as it looks neater and would not split at the side easily like the one sewn by machine.

- Laughing out loud even before I start telling my joke, so much so that my family will be laughing at the way I laugh and not my joke.

- Being a mom and spoiling my kids

- Taking random pictures of fat people

- Stressing myself out for unnecessary reasons, especially when the reasons are my kids and hubby

- Making a groceries list and ending up buying things not on the list and coming home missing the things that were on the list

- Getting work done on time despite putting it on hold till the very last minute, and this behavior had actually rub on to my kids too

Next let me try doing a list of what I am not good at, and if I am daring enough to do that I think it will take at least three entries. I will give myself some time to procrastinate on that first ok.

I am super good………………………. !!!!!!!!

Five Days Of Iftar

 First day for Iftar, it was Nasi Lemak

Second day for Iftar, it was Beef Curry

 Third day for Iftar. it was Chicken with Cashew Nut 

Fourth day for Iftar, it was Chicken Kabsa

Fifth day for Iftar, it was Chicken Soup

Alhamdulillah, today we are beginning our sixth day of Ramadan. It is summer now, so our daily fasting is very long, we only do our iftar after 2030 hours but surprisingly it is not that taxing on us. It is just like a normal day, Alhamdulillah.

I try to keep Iftar to cooking what we really need to consume and nothing more than that. The only extravagance that I could boast of for the past five days was the blueberry cheesecake. The pictures show what we have for our five days at Iftar. Some of the pictures are not mine, as I forgot to take my own pictures, but this is just to show what the food was all about.

We try to count the calories, and I hope we could stick by it for the whole month and beyond. For ‘shahur’ we only have soya milk and muesli, or olive with yogurt.

So far so good.

For What Is It To Die?

 

 

 

 

“For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun? And what is it to cease breathing but to free the breath from its restless tides that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?”

Kahlil Gibran