Away With The Mixer

Of Perfection and Efforts

2011-12-28T01:00:00.009+08:00

Lately I find myself lost in some swirls of serious thoughts, sparked by what I mostly see on my facebook news feeds every weekend and a request by a friend a while ago to share the experience I am going through now, which I was not very much inclined to do at that time for a number of reasons. I’m still wary about it, for the sake of my heart, which our beloved prophet s.a.w. has illustratively described to be ‘more unstable than the boiling water in a pot’ and is like ‘a feather at the trunk of a tree that the wind keeps turning it upside down’. I do realise, however, the obligation compelled upon me to call for good and denounce evil, and inshaallah (God-willing), I hope to share some of the precious jewels of an experience that have come to my possession the past couple of months.

To begin with, I’d like to clarify the reason I’m writing this (me with prologue after prologues =_=). I’m often reluctant to put things across bluntly for fear of being a... hypocrite (that is, not practicing what you preach), but a lot of times, especially in this day and age, people just need others to shake them hard for them to come around. It occurs to me that many people today do not actually realise the reality of life we live in today. Speaking from the Islamic perspective, all of us believe in the existence of an eternal hereafter, wherein we will be judged on our actions in life on earth and be sent to heaven or hell accordingly. We believe in the transition world before that- “Al-Barzakh”, the waiting period after we died before being resurrected on Judgment Day.

The way we live our lives though, often does not reflect the essence of our beliefs. Most of us are still trapped by the lures of this world, dedicating the better part of our time attaining material comfort whilst trying our best (or not) at the same time to abide by the five pillars of Islam- the shahadah, praying five times a day, fasting in Ramadhan, paying the zakat, and the hajj.

By not putting our faith and religion at the driver’s seat of our everyday lives, we are abandoning the sunnah of our prophet and the companions, the mentality that has propelled them to become the greatest nation at their time, the best of people in every aspect of life. It is the mentality to be the best in everything we do, and in the context of what we so lack of today, the best in practicing our way of life that is Islam.

We pray five times a day, but our minds wander off to other wonders of life each and every time; we wear hijab, but our clothes readily show the curves of our bodies; we eat halal food, but we also eat excessively and unhealthily; the list is inexhaustible.

Many of us live life as though it will come to an end with death. Hence we get driven by money, power, fame, social status and entertainment, leaving very little space for the remembrance of God. We hope our daily prayers, fasting in Ramadhan and zakat will suffice to carry us through to the gardens of paradise, which they might, but can we be sure about that? We live in this world only once, that much is true, but are we to settle for a carefree and enjoyable life now, and spend the rest of eternity in misery?

A mindset that should befit every muslim is the desire to achieve perfection- to be the best that we can possibly be, despite our flaws, to reach the top. We know there are levels and ranks in jannah (paradise). Do you wish to be rewarded with the lowest rank of jannah, or be at the top, amongst the prophets, the siddiqun, the syuhada’, and the salihun? Would we settle for second best when we can have the best? This is by no means arrogance on our parts- Allah is All-powerful, All-Encompassing and All-Merciful, He knows what’s in our hearts- our hopes and fears, our loves and desires. The rightful realisation of our weak and sinful state does not rob the right to hope and dream to be amongst those Allah would chose as His beloveds. After all, as our blessed prophet s.a.w. had phrased in a beautiful hadith, everyone would be with those whom he loves.

Bearing this in mind, I have learned that it’s our (sincere) efforts which will make the difference to Him. We have this one and only opportunity to determine where we will be for the rest of eternity, so I say, let’s go for broke! Yes, Rasulullah s.a.w. told us to exercise moderation, even in our acts or worship, but the truth is most of us are just lazy bums. We don’t do but a meagre of what we are really capable to do, and most of us are rather content with it.

Everyone has their own unique potentials and means to attain nearness to God, so let’s all reach for that extra little something inside the pockets of our hearts, and inshaallah, He will give us a hand and carry us closer and closer towards His love and mercy.

(Yes, I know I haven’t told my story yet. Next up, inshaallah).

Thoughts on a rainy day

2011-11-23T21:01:00.000+08:00

1. The monsoon has been in full gallop for the past few days- my father has even decided to stay overnight at his workplace in Kerteh today due to bad conditions on the road. I hope everything will be smooth for my trip to KL this weekend (I'm attending a wedding of a friend! Finally!).

2. My mother has found an effective tool to keep tabs on (some of) her children for quite a while now. Yup, you guessed it. There were a couple of times when she would call me from work and said, "Ask your brother what he meant by his status just now on Facebook?" or that she couldn't access the wall of another sibling, was she the only one being barred? Sometimes things are discovered even quicker through Facebook than a normal daily conversation, which just tickles me!

Example collected this morning on the way to breakfast:

Mum: Maman pedih hidung ye guna nasal spray tu?
brother: Uh?
Mum: tu yang Maman tulis tu (kat Facebook)...

3. I'm currently reading two of Sheikh Imran Hosein's works. I attended his lecture last week and what a wonderful privilege it was. I do have a number of questions and disagreements over some of his views, but all in all he is doing brilliantly on the formidable task of opening the eyes of the majority of the ummah on the reality of the world today. There are many scholars out there who seem reluctant, for whatever reasons, to zoom in on the topic of the calamities at the end of times, which is the time we are living in now- everybody should realise just how dire the state we're in at present, how dangerous the fitnah that has befallen our ummah, for us to truly wake up and stave off the evils that are devouring our people inside out.

May Allah place you and me amongst the rightful and guided ones.

2011-10-30T22:56:00.008+08:00

1.
"Nothing that is can pause or stay;
The moon will wax, the moon will wane,
The mist and cloud will turn to rain,
The rain to mist and cloud again,
Tomorrow be today."

~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

I'm trying to embrace change; kindly reciprocate.

2. It sometimes happens, to some certain people, that whenever they try to conquer any of their fears, a greater terror will appear in nothing flat to squash any hope of a raise in their self-regard.

Example: A was scared of frogs. One day, A decided to conquer her fear, so when she saw the frog who always lepak nearby the washing machine one afternoon, she tried to chase it away by stomping her feet, at which moment, another, bigger frog dutifully appeared out of nowhere in front of her. A had a metaphorical heart attack, fled the scene and, to this day, remains scared of frogs.

3. It's autumn over there, monsoon over here. Last year at this time i would be merrily walking back home from school, taking pictures whilst basking in the lush golden spectacle that was autumn. This year at this time I'm doing something even better, so I should be contented (and I am) to have to let go of my favourite season.

4. I just recently discovered the correct way to order tea without milk and sugar at the stall- 'teh o kosong'. Sweet.

5. Every weekend I get back home these days I'll get at least one wedding invitation. I've attended none thus far (not on purpose though!).

6. I wish my father, who just arrived in Phnom Penh today and will push on to Ho Chi Minh tomorrow, a safe journey under the blessings and protection of Allah s.w.t.

7. Happy birthday to my loyal reader (not anymore though I guess, since she has recently ventured into the wonderland called housemanship) and loyal friend, Farah- kullu 'am wa anti bikhair!

8. I shall continue to write in numbered points like this until I rediscover how to write like a proper writer.

Good day everyone.

I miss...

2011-08-27T22:28:00.000+08:00

I miss...

1) collecting fallen leaves beneath crimson shaded trees.
2) eating absurdly sweet and juicy plums for iftar.
3) celebrating eid at the mosque, classes and lectures, hostel and flats.
4) feeding the cats outside the hostel.
5) having my weekly usrah.
6) salads at Superman.
7) checking out what's cooking in the kitchen.
8) grabbing something to eat with my girl classmates during class breaks.
9) the crackling sound of my boots caressing the snow in -20s winter.
10) the sound of the train passing by at night.
11) watching ice hockey on tv.
12) watching biathlon on tv.
13) watching almost every other winter sport that doesn't get shown here on tv.
14) Fatin's fruit smoothies (and the ingredient-guessing sessions), Farah's pau sambal udang kering, Sakinah's ayam masak merah, Fahida's pandan cake, Kak Ma's nasi dagang and nasi kerabu, Kak Nadia's carrot cake, Naj's salad, Areena's any-spicy-dish she would come up with, Mekna's late night comfort meals, Mas's sardine rolls, Sakinah jr.'s doughnuts, Sharifah's moist chocolate cake.... ok, I need to stop.
15) praying together with my floor mates.
16) playing and having sleepovers with Aiko.
17) speaking the language.
18) chatting with nice, friendly patients ( who would assume I came from any country other than Malaysia, was 19, and had the impression that Russians were bad people).
19) watching sunrise and sunset from the window.
20) qiyams at Qalam.
21) running and 'lepak'ing at the embankment of Volga with Sin Ye.
22) tulips in April.
23) selling nasi kerabu and nasi hujan panas with Farah.
24) strolling along the central market street brimming with fresh fruits and veggies of the season.
25) pretending to sleep when someone enters the room.
26) Swinging by Kak Ma's and Kak Nadia's room and having meaningful and thought-provoking conversations with them (and other random guests).
27) class parties.
28) surprise birthday parties.
29) sealing the windows for winter.
30) MUMMY and kuliah ahad.
31) the excitement on the eve of every new cycle, wondering which teacher we'll get.
32) after-class detours to Radezh.
33) evening tea-drinking sessions with Fatin (and other random guests at times).
34) bullying Areena.
35) visiting the mosques at Lingoranskaya and Kirovskiy.
36) classes with Vasiliy.
37) outwitting Vasiliy with my classmates on my birthday.
38) first snowfall of the year.
39) praying in what would be considered as odd places elsewhere (i.e muslim countries)- classrooms, lecture halls, fitting rooms, corridors, under the tree...
40) making snowman, the one and only. ;)
41) chatting freely with friends at the stores without worrying that people might overhear our conversations.
42) makan-makan with Ar-Raudhah.
43) Milkis.
44) brisk-walking down the hill to the bus stop for class.
45) cute and cuddly Russian toddlers.
46) my maps and posters and postcards on the wall.
47) cross-country train rides with pearly white beds of snow in winter and gorgeous sunflower fields in summer, amazingly friendly fellow passengers who offer you pickles, lavash and nuts and apples as a goodwill gesture, and super small bunk beds which remind you to be thankful for your squeaky bed back at hostel.
48) skiing.
49) updating my 'budget book'.
50) picnic with Al-Hijr girls.
51) scheming for strategies to elude the hostel guard when the student pass is not at hand.
52) the ever-ringing smoke alarm (ok, this is not true).

Selamat hari raya to all my friends especially those whom I just parted with. Six most educational years of my life, alhamdulillah.

...

2011-08-19T14:34:00.007+08:00

There are times when you feel like recoiling from the rackets of the outside world and nestle in your own quiet solitude.

There are times when you wish time wouldn’t seem to elude you so that you can get things done.

There are times when the details and niceties don’t matter and you just want to get to basics.

There are times when you feel frustration, exasperation, anger, happiness, and hope all at the same time.

There are times when you feel weak yet determined.

There are times when you truly feel that faith is the best thing you can possess because it keeps you sane.

Now is one of those times.

The Return of The Dreamer

2011-08-13T18:33:00.014+08:00

I had virtually given up hope on being able to write anything of more than facebook-status length anymore, when, one fine fortnight ago, I surprisingly managed to churn out a speech for my Malaysian commencement ceremony within one day. Of course, I had great help from my mother and father then, but it did give me a thread of hope for this one.

Four months have passed since my last tiny post, and a whole chapter of history has passed since then. I’ve graduated and become a doctor, technically speaking. I am yet to feel like one though, and when a staff nurse asked me whether I was a doctor (doing locum perhaps) at my father’s workplace the other day, I told her no, I was just the doctor’s daughter.

Indeed I was. But I have officially added another title of responsibility to my portfolio which will unquestionably be asked of me on the Day of Judgment- slave, daughter, sister, friend, neighbour, student, and now, doctor. No pressure. ;)

In practice, though, I’m still holding on to the role of a student I so cherish for just a little bit more, and if my current plan succeeds, it will be the most satisfying achievement in my eyes so far inshaallah (I’m being cryptic I know, don’t mind me).

I have grown so much over the years and I sincerely thank Allah for planning my life so beautifully for me, making me learn the way I did, something I probably would not have gained had I spent the last 6 years somewhere else on this good earth. I will sorely miss Russia (I already am, actually)- for the colourful seasons, nice local people I’ve met, great variety of sports, speedy internet, beautiful (but difficult!) language, amazing friends… but most of all, I will miss the bountiful lessons of life I’ve had from the whole time I was there. From the many hardships we had encountered, the lack of comfort and familiarity, to the little routines and activities that have become a part of what I was and am today, I treasure them all, and am most thankful for them.

Our weekly usrah sessions have given me better understanding of things that I thought I had understood well, the strength to carry on the message, and lifelong beloved sisters whom I know will always be there with me.

Our maghrib, isha’ and subuh prayers in jamaah (and all five during holidays) have taught me the importance of staying together, helping and reminding each other, and have let me truly feel the sweetness of companionship more than I have ever had.

The lack of halal food, the high-priced goods, and different ways of living have taught me the indelible skills of survival- to restrain, assimilate, compromise, and improvise where necessary. A trip to the grocery store never failed to lift my spirits.

The people at the dean’s office have given me the opportunity to test and build up my level of patience and perseverance.

The floor I stayed in has given me the idea of how an ideal neighbourhood should be, and how an ideal neighbour should be- people looking out for one another, lending things selflessly, offering free home-cooked meals every so often, organising get-togethers and many, many more. Things weren’t perfect, but it sure was close. ;)

Again, I thank Allah for always, always blessing me with good people around me. All the nasty ones usually just pass by fleetingly, those whom I don’t have to deal with constantly.

This is just scratching the surface on a topic I can spend hours talking about. But writing, at my present pace, would take a whole lot longer than that. I hope to get the hang of this once again and just, well… write.

Selamat berbuka puasa dan beribadah. ^_^

Volgograd, february 2011.

Happy Birthday Abah!

2011-04-12T07:40:00.011+08:00

As I'm sitting here for what seems like forever, pinching my brain to come up with something to begin this otherwise ultrashort, 3-word post, I begin to wonder of the fate of this blog. In every manner of expression, I have stopped writing and I don't really feel the urge to do so for a good while now. And as I'm about to finish my university education (aargh it hurts terribly saying that) in about 2 months, I suspect this blog will be effectively dilapidated (if it isn't already) and forgotten (a friend told me she has given up waiting for my next entry, hehe) for I'll be busy (or try to) studying for my finals. Will I resume to write again after I've started working, perhaps?

Ha-ha-ha.

Actually, the most real excuse I can give for not going to write anymore- at least for the time being- is that my laptop has gone through a rough patch and I can only fix it when I get back home (cos they charge, like, four times more here. tsk). Hence this late post to wish my dearest father a happy 50th birthday.....! May Allah be pleased with you always, and shower you with love, blessings, guidance and mercy, and unite us in jannah. I love you very much. ^_^

Happy birthday, mak!

2011-02-19T14:36:00.007+08:00

"Your Heaven lies under the feet of your mother"- Rasulullah s.a.w. (Ahmad, Nasai).

To my dearest mother, who tirelessly sends me medical articles/cases every day so that I may learn and become a good doctor (I'll try my best to read them all! ;p). May Allah give you the best from this world and the next, and always make you happy.

ps: Sorry I'm late, there was a technical error. hehe.

Prologue

2011-02-08T21:54:00.007+08:00

Never would have I imagined that a trip with so many trials- less than half of the activities went according to plan, most of which were spent in a 5-room flat with 11 other fellow travelers- would turn out to be one of my best winter holiday experiences ever, if not the best. And I owe that mostly to the persons I shared my moments with- my amazing friends, old and new, and the wonderful ‘ustazs’ who went to great lengths to ensure that we felt as much at home as possible. Only Allah could justly reward them for their kindness and sincerity.

My heart felt unusually heavy when it was time to leave this place, the land of the prophets. Perhaps it was because of the state of the country when we were leaving. This might sound lame, but I could quietly feel the air of revolution surrounding us, and even though most of the time we were cooped up in our flat knowing less of what was going on outside than the rest of the world watching the news on tv, the atmosphere was somewhat different, the kind of which I would not feel if I were back in my hostel in Russia, or home sweet home in Malaysia watching the news on tv; to actually be there was an altogether different feeling.

It angers me to read some of the news about the situation here, especially by the Malaysian media (but I have lost my faith in them ages ago, so no love lost there). Yes, the situation here is very serious, but why must these people emphasise on unnecessary details to appear more dramatic? People like drama, that’s why, and the media are playing by it.

When we went to the airport 2 days ago to confirm our tickets, we were interviewed by a couple of our media journalists. And the questions always revolved around the fear of what was going on at the moment, whether we slept with knives and sticks or not (ok I made this one up)- nothing which actually required us to think, like what were our opinions about the issue at hand, or what solutions could we offer to the problem, or what could we learn from this experience. Now who would want to listen to that, huh? Haha. At one point I did tell the journalist off (politely) about their inclination towards drama, which had had parents and families in Malaysia in a frenzy (that was probably why the interview didn't get published ;p).

When I read an account of a local student that she felt like living in Palestine, I couldn’t help but cringe. Firstly, has she ever lived in Palestine to know how it felt like over there? Secondly, knowing the media’s ‘dramaphilic’ attitude, they would definitely use that as a headline and everyone in Malaysia who trusted the news with undaunted faith would be under the impression that this entire nation was a warzone. So I say, why the need for drama?

Another account mentioned about the ‘scary’ route to the airport where there were many ‘askar dan perusuh yang bersenjata”. Soldiers with guns? That’s like doctors with stethoscopes. Perusuh? Rioters? These were people who gathered and marched peacefully to claim their rights after decades of oppression by a dictator’s regime, and you associated them with violence, which, by the way, only occurred when initiated by the police or the dictator’s ‘third force’. They were not the dangerous people here, so to be clear. Everywhere we went, they showed us the 'peace' sign. Why were they armed on the street? Because when the police stopped working, lootings were rampant, and the people took it upon themselves to watch the streets. They patrolled the city day and night, and it was heartwarming watching their spirit and determination as we walked past them on our frequent trips to nearby shops. Sure, they were holding sticks from woods and steel, but they were not going to hit you with them (unless you hit them first, that is).

All in all, I had learned a great deal out of this experience. Every moment was a treasure- from the visits to amazing places to the 'bedtime activity' to the 'rooftop activity' to the flight delay! hehe. I would like to thank my friends again, especially my two closest companions who were by my side practically 24/7 during the whole trip- and I apologise for any wrongs that I made. Let's go again to complete this journey, ok! :) I wish the people good luck, and that a new era will begin in the country- one filled with freedom and justice. And let us all turn to Allah, for He holds the key to our every detail in life, and only through Him shall we attain success.

Written on the plane from Cairo to Moscow, 5^th February 2011.

A temporary farewell

2010-11-26T01:17:00.011+08:00

The last time I departed with someone this significant in my life, it was fourteen years ago. The added years have taught me to muddle through the grief better, but they have also doubled the ache I was made capable of feeling.

This was the person who took care of me when I was little, and I will always have the fondest memories of playing ‘ghost’ with him and sleeping by his side at night during the weekends. This was the person who encouraged me to memorise the Quran when I was little, even awarding me RM100 when I completed surah Yasin. I love him so much, and I simply can’t stop these tears flowing throughout the day. The typical initial waves of guilt washed through this morning- I had meant to call him for the past three days but due to a little tight schedule, I forgot. Never in my prayers though, and I hope he realised that.

May Allah grant His forgiveness and mercy to my dearest grandfather, and place him amongst the highest ranks of the believers. And this separation is only temporary; may we meet again in jannah, Aki.

Imam Al-Ghazali, whom my grandfather shared his name with, wrote the following verses right before he breathed his last:-

"Say to my friends, when they look upon me, dead
Weeping for me and mourning me in sorrow
Do not believe that this corpse you see is myself
In the name of God, I tell you, it is not I,
I am a spirit, and this is naught but flesh
It was my abode and my garment for a time.
I am a treasure, by a talisman kept hid,
Fashioned of dust, which served me as a shrine,
I am a pearl, which has left its shell deserted,
I am a bird, and this body was my cage
Whence I have now flown forth and it is left as a token
Praise to God, who hath now set me free
And prepared for me my place in the highest of the heaven,
Until today I was dead, though alive in your midst.
Now I live in truth, with the grave - clothes discarded.
Today I hold converse with the saints above,
With no veil between, I see God face to face.
I look upon "Loh-i-Mahfuz" and there in I read
Whatever was and is and all that is to be.
Let my house fall in ruins, lay my cage in the ground,
Cast away the talisman, it is a token, no more
Lay aside my cloak, it was but my outer garment.
Place them all in the grave, let them be forgotten,
I have passed on my way and you are left behind
Your place of abode was no dwelling place for me.
Think not that death is death, nay, it is life,
A life that surpasses all we could dream of here,
While in this world, here we are granted sleep,
Death is but sleep, sleep that shall be prolonged
Be not frightened when death draweth nigh,
It is but the departure for this blessed home
Think of the mercy and love of your Lord,
Give thanks for His Grace and come without fear.
What I am now, even so shall you be
For I know that you are even as I am
The souls of all men come forth from God
The bodies of all are compounded alike
Good and evil, alike it was ours
I give you now a message of good cheer
May God's peace and joy for evermore be yours."

Thank you to my family, and friends who offered kind words and moral support. Innalillahi wainna ilaihi rajiun.

23!

2010-10-17T02:31:00.002+08:00

I wouldn't miss my annual birthday wish to you, Azleen, no matter how late this might be (actually according to our time zone, it's not late yet). Hehe.

Happy birthday...

may Allah give you the sweetness of iman, the light of wisdom, and the beauty of akhlaq. ^_^

Rollercoaster Ride

2010-10-09T00:48:00.003+08:00

My final year as a medical student commenced in quite an uncharacteristic fashion- new russian teachers and too many free hours. The latter is expected to come to an end this week, and, as incredulous as this may sound, I kind of look forward to it. The Russian-teacher experience, meanwhile, has come full circle- our 1st year teacher, who gave us up when she was afflicted with illness four years ago, is making a comeback. Things don't seem so promising when some of us apparently still have nightmares from yesteryear, but I remain optimistic. ;)

***

Let's fast-forward to three weeks later. I've become so good at procrastinating, I should get a medal. Anyway, the breaking news of this week is that we're approaching the coldest winter here in 1000 years- tell me if that doesn't sound amazing. Hehe. It's only the beginning of the second month of autumn and we're already talking 3-5 degrees in the morning, 8-10 degrees in the afternoon. Our room has slowly begun to resemble the fridge in the kitchen and if the trend continues, by the end of this month, I predict, we'll reach freezer standard (I'm only half-joking here). There's an urban myth which has been circulating in town since the day I set foot here, saying that if the temperature ever reaches -40 degrees or so, we can all pack our bags and go home. It'd be interesting to put it to test and if this so-called coldest-winter claim is bona fide, I might just spend my winter hols. this year at home! ^_^

I just withstood a metaphorical roller coaster ride for the past couple of weeks, reaching the highest of the high, the lowest of the low, without completely understanding the reason of it all. I later did understand, and thank God for that, for now I feel the strength and conviction to keep one step ahead of my own self. Pardon the obscurity of my words, nobody but few will understand the emotional chaos I've just been through; I suddenly feel the need to write it down now, at 12.22 in the morning, when the night is still and the heart is tender. I came to feel the most priceless feeling from what I've gone through lately- that even if the people you count on most let you down, even if the whole world is against you (yes, try to imagine that), you will always have Allah. He will never leave you. I truly felt that during one of the many not-so-great moments of late, and it was the most comforting feeling I've had. It lifted the pressure off your chest, made you realise your own shortcomings, and most importantly, it made you forgive the people around you, because everything that had happened suddenly seemed so trivial. I hope He will not take this away from me and let it be my thin gossamer thread towards getting closer to Him. Inshaallah.

Good day, everyone. :)

Abah & Mak

2010-09-09T05:45:00.007+08:00

I meant to write an obnoxiously long-winded update on life and its blessings (and shortcomings) but a matter of urgency triggered by a miserly 2-hour sleep yesterday made me cut it short this time (and no promises on the next one either U_U).

The said urgency is, in fact, a belated wish to my parents for their 26th anniversary- may Allah bless both of you forever after... It took me a while, but I do realise now how exceedingly fortunate I have been, and continue to be, having the two of you behind my back. Only Allah can rightfully reward you for all that you've done for me, and I pray we'll all be together again in jannah, inshaallah.

I feel like putting up their wedding picture (hehe) but realise that I don't actually have them. So these are a couple of old family photos for old times' sakes.

My dad, my sister Sarah, my brother Muhammad, and me.
Bukit Bendera, 1989.

My mother and the three of us, and good ol' (or new, at that time ;p) Sentra.
Aboard Penang ferry, 1989.

Selamat Hari Raya & Eid Mubarak everyone. :)

Post-exam relief syndrome

2010-07-03T06:10:00.015+08:00

Life is like a Rubik's cube, with 519 quintillion possible arrangements of the pieces, each discrete and unique from the other. The past few weeks for me, at least, have demonstrated just that- news and events, good and bad, have contrastingly teemed this head to the brim, and left me marveling at the sublimity of God's decree for every one of His creations.

Most of the things happened felt too personal to write about, and it's funny that after filtering my thoughts, the things left to be said suddenly seem so shallow and trivial. Like the World Cup. People know I love football, and people know I'm quite, er, expressive by nature, but make no mistake, I won't lose sleep over Brazil's loss in the quarters. Nor Roger Federer's exit in Wimbledon for that matter (tibe2). Hehe. I'm into it, yes, but I can be out of it in (almost) no time too.

That said, vamos Argentina and Rafa!

Alhamdulillah Allah has eased my way through my finals (which included a week of sleeping on the floor. Don't ask.), and now that it's over, I should be flying home as I usually would, right? Wrong. We're bullied into doing this 3-week practical thing in emergency care, and as positive as I have been about this program ever since its conception, this badgering shadow of doubt keeps creeping back in. I hope to be proven wrong, and be an enlightened person by the end of it. *sniffs*

It's a comforting thought, having another year of medical slogging before getting that giant responsibility of a doctor thrusted upon your shoulders. All things considered, no, I do not envy my recently-graduated seniors, for I feel so inadequate in my position right now to be coveting any title but that of a student. I love being a student, and I don't have to experience the brunt of heavy work for a while to realise that. ;p Stormy seas await me next year, so let me work on my sails and bearings for now...

Our Choice

2010-06-07T04:31:00.009+08:00

It's time for my healthy reminder of standing up for what is right. I’m in no mood for euphemisms or lacy words so here’s the deal- let us all take a huge leap of faith in our struggle against the Zionist murderers of Israel. The atrocities of their recent actions were so blatant that if they failed to open the eyes of skeptics, I don’t know what will. Accounts of different individuals from different nations, all testifying with consistency as to what truly happened surely beat the laughable, garden variety of the Israelis. These brave souls are living testimonials of the struggle we should all sign up to, and whilst it is quite obvious that most of us are not setting sail on a freedom flotilla anytime soon, there are so many other things we can do that we have not actually done for the cause.

Have you checked yourselves- how important is Palestine to you? If it is so important, you won’t be moaning about how stressful your life is every couple of hours on Facebook, or counting your dough for how much you can spare to dole out after you’re done with new clothes and accessories. You won’t be condemning the Zionists today, and worrying about matching your outfits for the next wedding of your friend the day after. You won’t be reading the main breaking news today and then stop getting involved, until the next shocking massacre comes along.

You’ll feel pain and anger inside of you, unabated by food or sleep. You’ll twist your head inside out thinking of what you can possibly do to be part of the cause. You’ll voice out your opinions and let others know where you stand. You’ll strive to improve yourselves and succeed in your current endeavours, in hope that soon you’ll be able to actively help your brothers and sisters to fight for what is right.

By improving ourselves, I really do mean by making significant improvements in our daily routine- notably our ibadah. Let’s begin with the five prayers- do we pray as soon as the azan are sounded, or do we choose to do our cooking and washing and chatting first? Do we seek to perform jamaah prayers whenever we can (and for men- going to the mosque)? Do we even try to get up at night for tahajjud? Do we unfailingly include our Palestinian brothers and sisters in our every dua’? Do we call people to do good and denounce evil? Do we observe patience with people who often get on our nerves? These are some of the important things which need to be addressed within ourselves to make us become stronger muslims, muslims who can unite as a jamaah and fight against these bigheaded bullies.

And then of course, there’s the boycott. I personally do not understand why many people (muslims included) deride this. If you think it just won’t carve a dent on Israel’s economy, think again. If the whole Malaysia boycott coca-cola for example, there won’t be a market for it there and millions of dollars of profit will be lost. Isn’t that huge? If you think this is something new, not done in the time of the prophet and the companions- look, this is modern-day war. And Israel’s greatest weapon for war, is their control of world economy. Period.

How deep is the deception of these people to mold the minds of today’s generation in defining good and bad. Those cheap Mcdonald’s burgers made from leftover beef- what do you get from eating 'em? You lose your money (which are spent on building weapons to kill the Palestinians, by the way) and get atherosclerosis. Doesn’t sound like a hot deal to me. I know some of the products are kind of difficult to avoid because we essentially use them every day, but come on, you don’t have the determination of steel to avoid Starbucks? What a joke. Don’t even dare to talk about sacrifice when worldly pleasures are more important in your heart than Al-Akhirah.

The most compelling lesson that I learned from reading the novel Ayat-ayat cinta a couple of years back was the part where Fahri was detained in prison for a crime he did not commit, and his wealthy wife wanted to use her ‘connections’ (and money too, if I’m not mistaken) to get him out. The beautiful reply from Fahri just struck me right in the chest. He said that for the average people, that might be a permissible option in a dire crisis, but not for ‘people like us’. People like us. And the most beautiful thing is, these people, the chosen ones, are not exclusively selected at birth- not by their bloodlines, wealth, good looks or intelligence. Anyone can strive to be that kind of person in the eyes of Allah. It’s our choice, really, to be the average joe, or the great warrior.

And finally, the Palestinian cause is not only for the Muslims to uphold. People of the world, if you’ve got eyes and you can see, give me a good argument on why we shouldn’t oppose what Israel is doing today. I see lots and lots of people from the western countries actively protesting against this humanitarian crime, but I fail to see the same spark from fellow Malaysians. My friends, the outcome of this struggle will shape the future of the entire world, not the Muslim world alone.

I apologise if I sound harsh and too direct, it’s just that I’ve encountered so many funny remarks and ideas lately which just hit me at how ignorant and ridiculous people can actually be. Also, as a strong reminder to myself because, hard as I try, I know I can try harder. May Allah guide us all.

which heart is yours?

2010-04-28T23:00:00.009+08:00

A profound video that an usrah mate shared a fortnight ago:

Let us slow down and question ourselves tonight,

"Which heart is yours?"

Waterless thoughts

2010-04-24T13:07:00.004+08:00

Which is weirder, the fact that I’m having Bruce Springsteen on at the moment, or that last night I discovered a mysterious packet containing a cardigan on my chair and later had a dream that it was a birthday gift from Zach Braff (and that we were friends and so on and so on)?

Haha… a conundrum to rouse your otherwise mundane Saturday morning. The cardigan turned out to be for my roomie by the way (U_U), because, well, today is her birthday (To whom this may concern- don’t leave other people’s gifts on my chair! Haha). Happy birthday dear roomie- another year filled with blessings, inshaallah.

Shall I say that the birthday wish is another coincidence? ;) I’ve been sidelined today by a reminder of how powerful an effect the elements of nature hold over your life- they’ve cut the water supply from last night until tomorrow evening for some work on maintenance. And our teacher has been kind enough to give us a holiday today so my plan was to simply lay dormant in order to circumvent excessive need for use of precious water. So here I am, with the most dormant yet productive activity I can think of. Haha.

I have been living with inconsistencies lately, one after another. I thought I was at peace with myself, and then I wasn’t. I thought I had a firm grip on something, and then I didn’t. Some old, long-held notions were questioned, and when I thought I was confident enough to straighten things out, I faltered. And I really want to write about a whole world of things, but my mind has been, for the lack of a prettier word, blocked. Ok, I made this sound rather alarming, but it really isn’t. I hope. See…? Inconsistencies.

I may not have the goods to write today, but I do have a good picture to share- the cake I made with Farah’s help for Fatin’s birthday. It was fun! Hehe.

Eyjafjallajökull cake... hehe. Nah... it's actually a poke at Fatin's 'volcano' cake a couple of years back... long story. Anyway, it's carrot cake with cream cheese frosting. And chocolate rice lava. :)

Good day, everyone.

"Are you ready to cut off your head and place your foot on it? If so, come; Love awaits you! Love is not grown in a garden, nor sold in the marketplace; whether you are a king or a servant, the price is your head, and nothing less. Yes, the cost of the elixir of love is your head! Do you hesitate? 0 miser, It is cheap at that price!" –Al-Ghazali

Happy birthday, Abah!

2010-04-13T04:09:00.005+08:00

The following entry was written from 10th April until 12th April 2010.

First of all, happy 49th birthday to my father- the person whom I always looked up to for answers when I was small, and at some point when he couldn’t give one, I would be struck by surprise. May Allah bestow upon you the best of this life and the hereafter.

It would appear as if I had really been following the birthday-wish pattern, but this really is a simple matter of coincidence. Kind of. There’s no need to elaborate, but I just wanna say that my laptop’s gone (almost) bust, and I’ve been scraping off what’s left of it besides parasiting on my roomie’s (who’s gone back to Malaysia for two weeks, but we’ll get to that later). Hence the non-existent blog.

Between surviving surgery and having a wisdom tooth eruption, nothing major has happened in this side of the world. Oh, but the bombings. It was a tragedy, and I knew paranoia was bound to seep in thereafter. Some people were concerned about me wearing black headscarf, so I’ve been wearing every colour other than black (actually only brown and purple) for the past fortnight. Fortunately, I haven’t had any unpleasant encounter with relations to the incident, although some had (a friend even got slightly harassed by a drunk in the marshrut- luckily a gentleman came to rescue). I was surprised to learn that muslim girls wearing hijab had to be scanned before taking the metro here the other day. It’s been quite a while since I took the metro so I was spared the disgrace. Caution mixed with prejudice will only sow unmerited distrust in everyone. Come on, most muslim girls wearing hijab in this city are Malaysians, and ask any average, unprejudiced Russian out there, and they will tell you that Muslim girls in hijab here are the most polite, mischief-free group of people.

Life has been bouncing up and down for me these days- to say that it’s been good is sugarcoating it, to say it’s been bad is an exaggeration. Procrastinations, emotional turmoils, bad falls and headbumps (I still keep hitting my head on the bedpost), impatience… basically old issues with my own self. But there also have been improvements in some other parts, of which I’m very happy. I’m turning a year older myself tomorrow, so I sure dang hope I’ve improved! Hehe.

My roomie’s coming back tonight from homeland. Her father’s been recently diagnosed with astrocytoma and is undergoing radiotherapy at the moment, and she flew back to be with him, albeit for a short while. Having gone through a similar experience three years back (my father had pituitary tumour), I kind of hoped I understood her feelings. But each of us is different, and the way we handle road blocks in life are also perceptibly different. One thing, though- however tall the mountains before us, however deep the sea beneath our feet, however bumpy the road we tread on, we know, perhaps deep inside, of the tools necessary to get through unscathed. We’ve known this all along, but more often than not, we choose to fall prey to our own diseased hearts, drowning in perpetual depression. And that is to turn to Allah, our Protector, who alone is sufficient for us.

“But if they turn away, say: ‘Allah is sufficient for me. None has the right to be worshipped but He, in Him I put my trust and He is the Lord of the Mighty Throne.’”
~At-Taubah:129

When my father was about to undergo surgery to remove his tumour, I spoke to him on the phone, and I asked whether he was the tiniest bit scared about the whole thing. He answered “no” after a nanosecond pause, and the conviction in his voice made me feel ashamed of myself- for not being able to be as strong as him, for not fully putting my faith in Him, that He knew what was best for my father. I mean, I did have faith, or I thought I did. But I was also breaking into pieces inside my heart, which I knew I shouldn’t.

We always chant the word “tawakkal”, but do we fully understand its meaning? We say we do, but when a calamity befalls us, we grumble, question God, become hysterical, overly depressed, and even despair, or any milder versions of these.

To my roomie, behind that soft exterior of yours, I know there’s a hard shell of determination, and faith. I pray you and your family will get through this test, and pass with flying colours, inshaallah.

Happy birthday, Mak!

2010-02-18T12:53:00.001+08:00

Happy birthday to my mother, the one who introduced me to the wonders of reading, Ryan O'Neal (hehe) and the importance of being earnest (and organised). May Allah bless and guide your path always.

a lone autumn leaf on an otherwise bald winter tree. gambar hiasan.

ps: will my blog entries be only birthday wishes from now onwards?! ;p

Old Friend

2010-01-16T19:33:00.004+08:00

An old friend turned 24 today, someone I have never mentioned in this blog yet is very dear to my heart. We first became friends in standard five- both of us were new students at school. The next year, she became class monitor, I her assistant. And 6 Aktif totally rocked under our leadership. Haha kidding. But I remember that year as one of the best years in my life so we must have been doing things right, haven't we? ;) We went separate ways in secondary school, but managed to keep in touch over the years via numerous letters and cards.

Anis, I still keep your letters, cards, pictures and trinkets, and I'm so happy you still have mine too, even though we haven't quite written to each other anymore. Happy birthday; may Allah keep our friendship strong for always and guide us both to His path.

The monitor and her assistant.

The cards that I sent her.

ps: I hope you don't mind me using your photos from Facebook. ;)

My brother the fighter

2010-01-08T02:10:00.007+08:00

Yesterday, a couple of friends sent me messages which roughly went, "was it your brother who was arrested by the Egyptian police last night?". At that time, I had just received a phone call from my father telling me that yes, my brother, who was part of the Viva Palestina convoy awaiting clearance to enter Gaza through the Rafah crossing when a riot instigated by agent provocateurs of the police broke out, had been one of the seven members detained, apparently because he was snapping pictures of the situation. He was released almost 15 hours later, and, contrary to what he had intended when he joined the mission a few weeks ago, he made quite the news (although they got his name slightly wrong, haha), especially in Malaysia. Later, he rejoined the convoy to enter Gaza and distribute the $1 million-worth of food, clothings, and medical supplies before returning to the UK tomorrow.

I know there probably have been mixed reactions toward the riot, the detainment, even the participation of my brother in the convoy. I have only one reaction- I am proud of what he is doing to make a difference in this convoluted world of false freedom. We chatted at length before he went- he was asking me about gift ideas for the children of Gaza. I knew that his conscience was clear, his heart sincere. He was a student, but he was also a Muslim fighter, and Palestine is the great jihad of our time. He knew he had the means to be of active help there, so he did. Why wouldn't he wait until he graduated as a doctor before getting involved in this kind of 'thing'? Because the mystery of time is not within our grasp. We don't know how long we will still be able to breathe the fresh crisp air, or play with the virgin snow. Aren't the children of Palestine too young to witness all the horrors served daily on their playgrounds? But it also teaches them to understand the utter value of faith and life, and not to hesitate to fight for it. In many ways they are much wiser than numerous so-called Muslim adults in our country, whose main goals in life these days are those pertaining to money and comfort.

We need more proactive Muslims, something that is much lacking in our society today. Perhaps not all of us have the means to go there and fight, but we have to constantly vouch support for the cause. My brother did what he thought he could do best with the opportunity that he had at the time that was given to him. Besides, it was an organised international humanitarian aid convoy, not a suicide mission. My only worry for him was that people of higher authority might not see eye to eye with his call and cause him trouble, particularly with regards to his studies.

Alhamdulillah, everything appeared to be going fine... Muhammad, I pray you'll get back safely and have gained better faith and become a stronger person.

ps: Concerning Egypt's preposterous actions in impeding the convoy, you can further read here and here, here.

2010-01-06T22:49:00.004+08:00

Shame on Egypt.

Pre-exam doodle

2010-01-01T18:41:00.023+08:00

Final day of class was also the final day of the year. And thus began the clumsy waltz through winter exams which would eventually end on the 23rd of January, some several light years away. They say Dermatology is a walk in the park, but it actually is my least favourite subject this year, so I'd add the word 'punishing' before it. Psychiatry is psychiatry, and Paediatrics will be conducted in Russian, being a 'national examination' paper. I've exhausted the topic on my Russian, so I shall say no more. In a nutshell, the prosaic med-student life is about to go Armageddon.

I've neglected to write on a daily or weekly or even monthly basis, so clearly a world of things have happened in the time that I kept pushing the snooze button on this blog. Ergo, I've selected highlights, or rather, created awards for time-saving and better reading purposes. And as usual, most are spontaneous and quite random in nature.

Lesson of the year
To never give up no matter what. Sounds unoriginal and outdated, but I'm talking about the moments when all seem to be lost and we can almost taste the bitterness of failure; when many of us would customarily begin to prepare our minds for defeat. Don't. There have been numerous super-comeback and fighting-tooth-for-tooth moments I've witnessed especially in sports this year that reaffirmed the mantra "it ain't over till it's over", and that goes the same with life.

Breakthrough hobby of the year
I had this post-rainbow withdrawal syndrome after my 'rainbow' left me, and, quite similar to Dr. House after his brief asylum spell, I turned to cooking. I surprised even myself with the stuff that I did, topped by taking orders of nasi minyak for 20 people- making a dish I had never before made on my own in its entirety. My friends encouraged and helped me all the way and I want to personally thank Farah, Fatin, Sakinah and Firdaus for their part. Hehe. Another friend, Fahida, inspired me to bake cakes, and in the span of a few weeks I was on a sort of a rampage, baking chocolate cake, carrot cake, tiramisu, and pandan cake (twice!). Unlike House who grew out of it, however, I got hooked. So Mak, I promise to bake cake(s) at home next year. :)

Teacher of the year
In a year filled with great teachers, our infectious diseases teacher, Olga Alexandrovna Chernyavskaya managed to steal the award at the last moment from various strong contenders. We are even cooking for her this Monday in a li'l thank-you party, which, coming from our semi-dysfunctional group, is a uber strong statement.

Season of the year
I would have settled for autumn like always, it being my favourite season in terms of practically everything, but the last few weeks gave us a sight to behold for a long, long time to come. A dramatic turn of the weather saw our city covered by snow up to our knees within one day, accompanied by cruel, wheezing wind that literally made you cry. Only a few days later however, the temperature escalated to above zero and we had had a substantial rainfall. Just when we thought to brace for muddy and flooded streets the day after, down went the scale and the earth froze over. And, almost out of nowhere, came to light the most stunning picture- trees in ice glimmering like 24-carat diamonds! Of course, we have seen ice-covered trees before, but nothing massive like this- the whole city was positively twinkling, and at night, everything appeared more glamourous and dream-like. And although I waited for more than an hour to flag a marshrut/taxi that evening, and eventually had to walk up the hill to our place, I was grinning like an idiot the whole time, ooh-ing and aah-ing following every few slippery steps.

I can design several more awards of freakish nature, but it's new year and I don't wish to start by getting into anyone's bad books for being super lame. I do wish, though, for Volgograd to bring about a professional hockey team to enter the Continental Hockey League for the 10/11 season so that i can watch great live hockey here every other week or so. Yeah.

Happy hibernating, Volgans.

ps: just got back from an usrah/slumber party/qiyamullail combo which surprised me in many ways- all for the better, inshaallah...

Token of Love part 1

2009-10-30T05:45:00.005+08:00

My dearest Farah,

С ДНЁМ РОЖДЕНИЯ!

Thank you for being one of the best listeners ever, and for always understanding and putting up with my crazy ideas. May you find happiness always, wherever you are.

Me and Farah at the leaning tower of Volgograd

2009-10-16T12:28:00.002+08:00

Azleen,

Happy birthday.

Maximum Entropy

2009-09-14T00:55:00.018+08:00

I’m in lack of proper words to justly describe my life at the moment. Any dissonance between claim and fact becomes trivial as my system steadily evolves toward maximum entropy. Even if I do try to keep a positive mind, my eyes still have to endure this terrible sight of my so-called abode resembling quite remarkably a vagabond tribe’s caravan, which is exactly what I am right now- a vagabond. My ears have to endure alternating promising and crushing news which can be likened to that old chipsmore ad on tv (“sekejap ade, sekejap takde”). My arms and legs have become jelly from chronic jitters.

What a way to start your new academic year, being kicked out of the room you just moved into and not knowing where you’re supposed to move to. It’s starting to become a biennial thing, if you remember my staying-in-guys’-floor misadventure two years back. Thank God two years from now I won’t be living in this hostel anymore. I say, these Russians are really good at ticking people off and act real sensible about it. But again, I’m reserving myself a hard jumping kick in the head for not being able to speak super-fluent Russian and exert myself more.

For all the brouhaha about Russian students not getting the best medical education, I see part of the problem being the significant number of students coming here not to study medicine so much as to wallow in a 6-year vacation with hope of scoring some Russian girls (guys?) along the way. I do wonder why they ever decided to take medicine in the first place- why not some light, short courses that wouldn’t pop their brain with so many facts to digest, and without the heavy accountability of dealing with life and death matters? I may sound harsh, but if you hear half of the stories of it, you’ll be thinking along the same lines too.

Another big part of the problem lies quite plainly in the language barrier. I’ve seen many lecturers who can’t express themselves very well in English but when they switch to Russian, 3 hours of class won’t seem to be enough. After four years the problem of understanding greatly lessens, but I still have a whole lot to work on. And then there are some lecturers who insist on speaking English, and it usually means they can teach less than what they are able to in their native language. Obviously, it affects the practical part as well, the area where everything is wholly conducted in Russian.

So, that is to say, my Russian needs some speedy salvation.

My first two weeks here have been spent in the department of psychiatry, and you only need to look at the patients here to realise that your problems are of microscopic value. If there is one disease that I wish to be spared from, it’s the disease of the mind, the conscience, the essence that makes you aware of who you are in this world. I find the discipline fascinating, but I just can’t imagine myself as a psychiatrist in the future (although my mother has suggested it would suit me, I have no idea why. Hehe). But well, you never know.

I got a little bit of everything from my 2-month break at home this time. My father, as always, sort of kept a constant mental check on the things that I had wished to do when I got back, which, as I lived in Russia, obviously involved cravings of food origin- food I craved to eat, restaurants I craved to go to. He would always think about what we really wanted before making any decisions, which I can’t even begin to express how much I really appreciate it (darn, I’ve got tears in my eyes now).

Meanwhile, I discovered that I’ve grown to enjoy going shopping with my mother, even though she herself sort of dislike shopping by nature. Haha. I used to prefer going with my father when we were younger, as my father would be more readily to indulge in our whims and fancies compared to my mother, who would choose whatever the cheapest to come off the racks. My father, being a man, however, doesn’t seem to quite fit into the shopping scene of a twenty-something daughter anymore (for the most part) and nowadays we’ll just spare him the torment and go by ourselves, me and my sister, or with mother.

My mother is an excellent listener, and for two months she became my ear for all the compiled stories over the past year, the person I confided in with all my problems and fears, the one I asked for advice in personal matters. I reckon you would have made a great psychiatrist, mak. Hehe.

Am I turning this into a tribute-to-family entry? Haha why not. I love my brothers and sisters, even if some days I just feel like kicking them hard for doing things that irritate me (thank God our physical fighting days are over). My elder sister’s in Japan as I write this, and I have to say, I do miss her presence here. We never failed to have a major disastrous fight whenever we were back in home soil, and even though I used to vow to remember that whenever we got back here, to sort of resist being nice to her when she started being nice to me, I would always forget it in the end. And now I don’t even have the privilege anymore, and things aren’t that much fun. Fortunately I’m in company of such great friends (but hold it, today’s is not a tribute-to-friends entry!).

My younger brothers and sister are the ones that liven up the house. Their jokes and antics never fail to crack everyone up, and this is the best reason why everyone should have a big family (by today’s standards, a family of seven is considered big. Heh). So when one fine week in July everyone happened to be home at the same time and I came up with the idea to have an early ‘raya’ family picture, you could imagine what would result from it.

Official, proper version. For the record, my family has never caught on the eid family colour theme thing; the proof is rather striking as you can see.

True colours coming out. Back (L-R)- me, Muhammad, Luqman, Sarah, Aliah. Front (L-R)- mak, abah.

More action as we exchanged headgears. Wish I were the sith lord. Heh.

The next weekend all of us minus Aliah plus my grandmother and aunt went for a trip to Langkawi, and I had a really good time basking in the nature, albeit having an inadvertent self-staged drama with my camera for the better part of it, which we shall not discuss here. Anyway, I had become a passive photographer throughout the entire holiday. It just shows that although I love photography, I love lazing around doing nothing more. And with most of my family members being avid photographers (when we took a boat ride at Kilim national geopark, the boat driver asked, “ni aktiviti kelab fotografi ke?”), and them having much better arsenals of those shiny guns, we wouldn’t need my pictures to cover for an event, which sort of triggered the lazy photographer syndrome.

Sunset at... err, where was it again? A little further from Cenang.

A fisherman waiting for his late catch of the day.

Yes, I only ever managed to shoot the sunset during the trip due to the aforesaid 'drama'.

My youngest brother Luqman. He's been a gem throughout the hols, helping me with various errands in and out of the house. ^_^

One of the very few things that made living at home less favourable than here was the presence of various ‘exotic’ faunas inhabiting our house and the backyard. My least favourite animals, frogs, totally roamed our backyard and for that reason, I never once took a walk across it, not for anything. Lizards were rampant (I once found a humongous lizard in a glass of half-empty cendol that we drank upstairs), and splashes of iguana jumping into the swamp behind the house (purely a hypothesis, but a likely one) have been heard once or twice. Last time I heard, a rattlesnake had been sighted, being pestered by our daredevil cats as my sister went to feed them. Living in a (seemingly) peaceful village overlooking the sea obviously comes at a price.

However, home is home and will always be so. I can’t say Kuantan has the best-looking beaches or sell the cheapest headscarves, but I’ve lived here almost all my life that I simply feel belonged. I find myself totally at ease when, say, I step into a local shopping mall here, but roaming around Suria KLCC, for example, still gives me a sense of alienation, like I’m an outsider and people are throwing me looks. Whereas, I figure, who on earth will have the slightest idea whether I am a native of KL or not? Sometimes your mind can play wonderful tricks on you.

But these are the trivia of life. Sometimes, when you really open your heart to accept it, you’ll be able to find a space for contentment in every breath you take. I’m trying (struggling, really) to complain less because deep inside in my heart, I know I’m contented. When you’re caught in situations, you complain, because it’s sort of become a habit. The truth is- I’m fine. Despite my current stressful situation (some people know the details), I’m savouring the beginning of my final two years here.

My mother asked me whether I liked it here, I said yes. If I were given the choice once more to go anywhere in the world, would I choose to study here? Probably not. Here is a place you won’t fall in love with at first sight. You learn to love it. And I know I’m going to miss it when the time comes for parting ways. My mother asked me what I like about Russia, and I remember not having the chance to answer. Well, I think I’ll save it for another entry.

I feel like I've been writing too much for my own good so I'm leaving it at that with some random pictures from my summer holiday...

Visiting Ustaz Yusof at his house.

Breakfast with family + grandparents at a restaurant in Ampang.

My sister Aliah, me and my youngest aunt.

Me and my friend Erfa at Ikea after our tennis date.

My second aunt Aunty OG, Aliah, me, Kak Sarah, my cousin Qistina.

Very pretty pavlova for dessert.

My brother Muhammad- greatest badut in the family!

Class 3 Gigih '01 reunion.

Everyone will be with those whom he loves

2009-06-08T12:28:00.009+08:00

It would be customary for me to nose-dive towards near-insanity around this time of year, but, as astronomical as the tasks lain before me appear to be, I'm inexplicably calm. And people can't use that last-minute-paddler argument with me because this is last minute- Neurology is but three days away (two for control freaks) and I still have about... four gazillion questions to go.

So I browsed through my past summer exam entries to contemplate retrospectively on how I was doing each time- from the world cup-tinged and missing-home kind of entries in 2006, to broody in 2007, to reflective, Euro-coated last year. All shared one thing in common- optimism, the weapon that has gotten me through many sticky situations in life thus far. Not that you can take on the world by optimism alone, but by being optimistic you gain the confidence to fight for success, and to be positive in defeat. It's a win-win situation.

All my life I have been clouded by the thought that more often than not I haven't been giving my absolute best in my endeavours. It may be true in some occasions, but in hindsight, I do strive my best with all these weaknesses I possess that get in the way from following through. I know it sounds disoriented, and more like an excuse, but anyway, this beautiful hadith comforts me whenever I think I'm not doing my best (or can never be the best) to be of any regard to anyone:-

Narrated Abdullah bin Mas'ud r.a. : "A man came to Allah's messenger (S.A.W.) and said, 'O Messenger of Allah! What do you say about a man who loves some people but cannot catch up with their good deeds?' Rasulullah S.A.W. said, 'Everyone will be with those whom he loves.'"
(Bukhari)

And in relation to this hadith, Anas r.a. said,

“There was nothing which made us (sahabas) happier in this world than to hear this”
(Muslim)

May Allah make us from those who are resurrected with the successful ones on the day of reckoning.

Now back to books...

ps: Federer won! ;)

Unworthy of a title

2009-06-02T03:12:00.007+08:00

As is invariably the way when someone has gone by more than a month without an entry, he/she kicks off with detailed explanations for his/her absence (that were just a lot of chaff), as if anyone gives two hoots about it. But I’m all for clichés, so here goes…

It pains to recall since when, but writing has become a punishing chore, like Russian homework. Or Neurology lecture. I like to write, but it’s not always a flowing river of words for me. Thoughts I have plenty, but to translate them into intelligible accounts for human viewing requires a mammoth of an effort in my part, something that the Law of Procrastination simply forbade me to do, the last couple of weeks. A handful of doodles during lectures have gone missing somehow too, and I just hope nobody found ‘em before me, those shoddy excuses of a scribble.

Spring waltzed by with a medley of dramas which could pass for a few Gossip Girl episodes, most of which I was glad for not being directly involved with, because my head would have exploded from the sheer ridiculousness of it all. Sometimes you wonder whether you really know the person you thought you knew. And whether the world has gone mad or you're the one not in sync with it anymore.

One of the most interesting topics to talk about in this side of the world these days is- surprise, surprise- the weather. First thunderstorm of the year (at least that I’m aware of) occurred late afternoon on Sunday, as I was sitting amongst the spectators of the handball playoff final match between Dinamo Volgograd and Zvezda Moscow (reigning champs). And what a sizzling match that was- our players were firing on all cylinders right from the start, leading 8-1 at one point. As the star-laden Zvezda (incidentally, 'zvezda' means a star. No pun intended. hehe) began to get into their groove halfway through, one of their top shooters was red-carded and their coach (also the national team coach) got all diva-like with endless protests and even called a couple of unofficial ‘timeouts’ afterwards, delaying the game; I just had to laugh when he was shown the yellow card by the ref for verbal abuse. Anyhow, Dinamo kept Zvezda on its tail throughout the entire game- they were a deserving winner alright.

The climax of the show though, came twenty seconds from time, when a scuffle broke out between two players, and I wondered whether I was watching ice hockey instead. Oh and did I mention these were women we were talking about? From my standpoint it was not very clear because all the benchers charged to the scene right after to back their teammates up but as I saw on the news that night those two were literally pulling hairs and scratching each other’s face! Wow. That didn’t change anything however; Dinamo still won 31 to 26. Russian champions 2009!

OK, I was not, as originally intended, talking about the weather. The weather, meanwhile, has been idiosyncratic- all sunny now, raining cats and dogs the minute after. I love heavy rain, provided I’m on the inside looking out, preferably with a cup of tea and keropok lekor at hand. Otherwise, I don’t really see the joy in soaking my trousers skipping around puddles (or streams) of water, not when I’m on my way to class. That said, summer has just arrived, and I would take drenched trousers over blistering burned skin any time of the day. Yes, summer here is that hot, hotter than Rafa Nadal’s pink attire in the French Open.

Speaking of which, I am thrilled that they are covering the tournament this time, even though most full matches shown are those involving Russian players. So I was hoping most of them get early exits (except for Davydenko, cos he’s a Volgograd resident! And probably Sharapova- her comeback was stirring), and the TV people would have no choice but to air other players as well. Haha. I still haven’t given up hope on Federer seizing the only ‘slam that eludes him (yesterday was a scare, by the way), especially now since he’s the favourite- although Roland Garros this year has given us a bag of surprises thus far. Allez Roger!

I can feel my parents starting to wonder whether I really am studying medicine here so I’ll give an update on my studies. We’re on ENT now, a field that I’m almost sure I won’t specialise in- anatomy of the ear puzzles me. Semester ends this week, followed by a short study leave and then, yes, the thorn at the final corner of the road- final exams. The panic air hasn’t hit town yet for me, but it has for my sister, roomie, and the rest of final year students, because their exam starts today! Hazzun sa'eed- may Allah ease your way and grant you with gempak-issimo results.

Today is another sunny day… for now.

My Family and Kokoro no Tomo-tachi (Saiunkoku watchers ;p)

2009-04-15T11:03:00.007+08:00

I thought to myself a few days ago, I wouldn’t write another cheesy birthday entry this year. But came my birthday, and I realised why every year I ended up doing it anyway. No, it did not have anything to do with reflecting on getting older and wiser (or not so) and responsibilities and all that boogie-woogie. Honestly, I didn’t the slightest bit care about the fact and when people normally asked, “How does it feel being so-and-so?” I would just say, “fine!” or give non-answers like, “hehe” or “hmm…” or trivias like “my mother got married at this age.” or this time around, “I’m forever seventeen!”.

As far as getting older is concerned, I just don’t think about that on my birthday. I ponder on that perhaps about every other day of the year except my birthday. If you noticed my birthday entries every year, they were all about thanking my family and friends, for this was the time of year for me when the word ‘overwhelmed’ became an understatement. As was the case this year, notwithstanding the feel seemed somewhat different. Perhaps it had to do with the flu I’d been having since the night before. Nevertheless, my birthday is a day to remind me of how I am blessed with such good people around me- one of the greatest blessings of my life.

I had thought before that if I were to treat my friends nicely, I would be treated the same way too. But I know a couple of very nice people who, by some twists of fate, always seem to encounter not-so-nice people who give them headaches in one way or another. Hence I consider myself truly blessed in this respect, for Allah has sent me some very good people to accompany me in this life, wherever I've been. The dinner feast, the homemade birthday cakes, the morning phone call from Sydney, the blog entries, the emails, the SMS-es, the wishes on Facebook/Geni/Friendster, the wishes at the lecture & back in hostel, the surprise gifts on my desk and bed when I got back, the second dinner feast… Yes, as I have tried to convince myself for a while, birthdays are not that big of a deal per se, but it is an occasion nonetheless- for people to wish you well, and for you to notice how fortunate you are, in this big wide world you live in.

Alhamdulillah.

Not planning to write, but I have to

2009-04-10T20:35:00.002+08:00

Happy 48th birthday, Abah. I wish you well and under Allah's blessings and guidance always. And even though certain parties might erupt into chaos, I'd like to say that I think you're the best-looking out of your siblings. hehehe. (At least Mak will agree.)

A Little Midnight Drone

2009-04-01T04:29:00.007+08:00

This year, as it turned out, we jumped straight from winter to summer. I hate to sound like a Puteri Lilin because I used to berjemur all the time doing co-curricular activities back in school and was very dark throughout the years, but I really can’t stand being under the sun these days. Today was so hot my spring jacket became a hand accessory instead, and, as if punishing me for not indulging in the glaring beams more like those Russians, the marshrutka I took was flagged down by the police and as it seemed to take a while, I, amongst most of other passengers, decided to get down and resume on foot for the next kilometre or so in order to make it in time for my final Paediatrics class. In the afternoon, as we walked from Ploshad Chekistov to the tram station for lecture, we were told that a massive road block had taken place and all trams and marshrutkas going in the direction we were taking were subsequently halted and thus we had to walk all the way to the hospital, scorching sun and all. I felt alright then, but now my knees are all jelly (now where did I put my TENS device…). I am seriously contemplating on bringing my umbrella tomorrow.

Why the rant, I don’t know… I wasn’t planning to, at the beginning of this post, but the selfish part of me took over. Anyway, to round it up, I owe surviving a depressing day (and not even due to the weather, actually) to the amazing people around me who never stop to be, in my eyes, amazing. Right from my sister whose simple presence was enough of a comfort, to this lovely friend who, after I half-jokingly said on the way back that only cheesecake or nasi lemak could possibly make me happy today, turned up a couple of hours later with nasi lemak for me (Darn, I’ve got to do better than sending roti tissue on Facebook). Minna-san, daisuki yo!

Off to bed, eyes all red…

Vote Earth!

2009-03-27T21:05:00.009+08:00

1,189 cities and towns across 80 countries are currently committed to the event this year, which began two years ago in Sydney (Azleen, you blogged about it, didn't you?). Whether it really does physically contribute to the global warming cause significantly, or is simply a symbolic gesture, there certainly is no harm in switching off your lights for an hour tomorrow night, is there? ;) The critical part, for me, is to cultivate awareness amongst the people about the utmost importance of taking care of the environment. It sounds mundane, but you would be amazed at the number of people out there who couldn't care less about safeguarding the world for future generations, global warming or not. A lot of people can't even turn the tap off properly- the sound of drops of water being wasted doesn't bother them the slightest. I wonder why. I can give ten other examples, but I'll save you the misery; you can watch this video instead.

If you decide to go dark, I've got some candles. ;)

earth hour 2009: 28th March, 8.30-9.30pm

Going a-choo-choo

2009-03-26T21:17:00.016+08:00

The Moscow Metro, according to Wiki-sama, is the world's second most heavily used rapid-transit system after the Tokyo Subway, with an average of 7 million passengers per day (that about equals the population of Switzerland by the way). It is the most convenient mode of transport in Moscow, in my opinion, due to its efficiency and extensive coverage throughout the city. Its greatest appeal though, is the intricate design of many of its stations, making it a tourist attraction in its own right. I didn’t get to snap many pictures as we were playing catch up with time, so do visit Moscow and dig into the experience yourself. ;)

The map of the Metro. The brown ring line interlinks with all other lines radially running through the city. The stop for the Red Square and Kremlin is situated at the centre of the ring.

Taking the very steep and long escalator at Kievskaya station. I actually timed the duration but now it's slipped my mind ;( Many other stations also have such deeply-built underground tunnels.

Most of the classically designed stations have dim lightings, lending the dreamy atmosphere.

Waiting for the next train; a bit worn out after getting a little lost searching for the right line- it really was mind-boggling compared to other big metros I've been to, like the London Underground or the Hong Kong MTR.

A train wooshing by on the other side of the rail.

A train clocking in at Arbatskaya.

The blue train is one of the older models; other newer ones have been introduced, though still very few.

Paintings at... Kievskaya station, I think.

blitzkrieg

2009-03-20T13:06:00.013+08:00

March is Bulan Amali Muslim in Volgograd. Last Sunday, we had a course on managing a deceased Muslim, from bathing, clothing, praying, to burying the body. It seemed that I had forgotten some stuff from Pendidikan Islam classes in school, so I’m glad I decided to attend. More importantly, as always, I urge everyone including myself to constantly remember death, and not just as something that saps away all things pleasant from us. Death is a passage to another world- a world that, although itself transitory, accommodates us for an even longer time than that we spend on earth. Thus, as we pray for salvation on the Day of Judgement, don’t forget to seek relief from punishment in the grave too, for we know that there are a whole lot of people who would enter Jannah but could not escape punishment in the grave.

On a lighter note, I’m finally putting up some pictures. I wrote a post accompanying them approximately two weeks ago but due to reasons unbeknownst to even myself, I didn’t post it. The truth is, I sort of dislike my own writing. I know I’ll never be literary-hall-of-fame material like some of my favourite authors, but it’s dawned on me that I can’t even write decent, well-structured prose without dwindling it with haphazard details and loads of parentheses (like now. Ha-ha). Sometimes, after reading things over, I wonder, can people actually understand what I’m saying? That doesn’t include the fact that I rarely can write everything that I mean to- it’s as if there is a giant filter in my brain working on autopilot. Hence the result goes… something like this paragraph. Right.

Despite that, life’s good. It may seem lame to say that time and again, but well, I mean it. Of course, you have to brush off ugly little details, like the harassment you get from certain Liverpool fans throughout the past seven days, or the dreadful falls (note the plural) on ice on the way to class last week after two years of clean sheet. Paediatrics cycle started on Monday, and after we finished taking a guided tour of the department with the teacher that day, I knew I was going to enjoy the next two weeks.

Taking the patient’s history can be a bit tricky, though. Apart from having to use terms easier for them to understand, there’s this business of switching your conversation ‘format’ from the polite form which we’re so used to with adult patients, to the common form used for friends or younger people. In short, our grammar was all over the place, and we ended up being a laughingstock for the 12-year-old girl and her two ward buddies. Be wary of girls this age- other girls my age will mostly agree with my assessment that this is their critical period of possibly developing into the ‘gedik’ stage; most guys will typically think they’re cute. Oh and be very wary when they tell you that the scar on their abdomen was caused by a monkey bite. Err yeah.

Anyhow, I had a lot of fun and am looking forward to the rest of next week. And below, is my post from a fortnight ago.

***

At the behest of my father and brother, and uncle (with scoffing taunts to boot), I’m obliged to post an entry of pictures, a whole lot of which had caused me mild headache having to pick and edit them here and there. By editing I naturally mean resizing, and a bit of tweaking at the contrasts and stuff; I am no Photoshop expert.

I can’t even think of appropriate words to express remorse for my lack of writing and posting pictures anymore, notably with respect to my travels. What can I say- I have tried, and even vowed to write in a daily journal during my trip this time, but last time I took a peek into that battered notebook, it stopped at day 3 (which so happened to be the case with my Turkey trip too). And my brother has long stopped pestering me for an entry “promoting Bristol”, as he put it. My uncles would prefer pictures- even that I failed to give.

The reason I didn’t put up pictures on my Flickr was that I wanted my story to be the heart of my work, accompanied by pictures- not the other way round. I’m always a writer first (konon.), a photographer second (if ever I am one). But as I had explained sometime ago, once I started to earnestly write about something, I couldn’t seem to spare any details- everything felt important and indispensable, right to every minute and whiff of the air if possible. My Day 2, for example, took about five pages’ worth of a standard small-line notebook (I have relatively small handwriting, too). And I know my weakness - finishing what I had started, especially when the process is laborious and I can’t appear to make time for it but, out of sheer stubbornness, refuse to trim it down to a “short & sweet” version either. I can do with an editor.

Except that I’m not a published author, as I have finally made my senses to come to realise, and so for the time being I’ve decided to make do with pictures whilst trying my best to get a shorter version of a story out, whenever that may be. Winter is about to end (technically it’s already spring, but for some ironic effect, heavy snowfalls occurred on the 1st of March, spanning a good few days), gracelessly incarnated by mud stain greasing the edges of your pants and fine drizzling drops which at times may trick your eyes into perceiving them as snow (probably because you want ‘em to be). According to my personal weather forecast, tomorrow will be “cloudy with snow tapering off”. I hope they’re wrong.

I’ve been preoccupied thus far, though largely owed to my abominable lack of time management. Also in a bit of a funk, owing to someone trying to get smart-alecky with me. Please, do exercise some manners and respect towards others, even if you disagree with them. It’s difficult enough to keep my patience in check without this kind of people poking round my bubble of sanity.

That being said, life has been kind to me of late (The Optimist speaking again). The startling part of the picture is receiving bountiful amount of kind treatment from the locals. I’ve been so accustomed to the cold stares and cavalier attitudes of many Russians that when people whom I met abroad and back home (upon learning about my place of study) ask about the locals and whether they really are as standoffish as reputed, I would generally agree with the notion, forgetting about many other kind souls who have brought smiles to my face during my drawn-out stay here. Like the old patient yesterday morning who bellowed, “Good morning, doctors!” when we passed by, or another old patient who kissed each of us on the cheek (after blowing a kiss to each of us) and called us her granddaughters, or the many gentlemen who gave me their rights to a seat in the marshrutka, or another gentleman who defended me when I couldn’t find my tram ticket and had to pay again before suddenly finding it right after (how classic.) and the conductor refused to return my money (with words like, “she’s only a student!”, “are you trying to take advantage over foreign students?”; even threatening to complain to the authority. Haha). And I haven’t even mentioned my teachers- most of them are awfully kind and helpful, though we still have our fair share of likes and dislikes, which is normal, of course. I’ll have to remember all these people the next time someone asks me about Russia.

Enough yapping let the pictures do the talking.

***

Fatin and Kak Nadiyah

Fahida and I

It turns out I can't just let the pictures do the talking. ;p Anyways, this was my first time taking a train ride in Russia. It was better than what I had expected it to be- in that jagged, traveller-roughing-it way, of course. There was only one drawback that i could think of- it was extremely warm inside- too warm for comfort- although we found out way later that we could actually open the window. But alhamdulillah, my biggest fear was unfounded- the toilet was relatively clean and thus I didn't have to test the superpower potential of my bladder for the stretched 18-hour journey.

A boy in a forlorn mood throughout the entire pre-departure time.

A lot of fellow students of my university were also on board, all heading to various destinations in Europe for the two-week-long holiday. Luckily, four of us girls got to bunk together and the remaining two in our compartment were also women. The upper bunk was decidedly small, bordering on claustrophobic; nonetheless, I slept a full seven hours soundly, uninterrupted.

The narrow aisle, not unlike an aeroplane's. Note the purple-haired old lady playing crosswords- favourite pastime of many Russian elderlies. Purple is also a favourite colour for hair dye amongst the elderly, apparently.

The view outside was either that of trees, village houses, dachas (summer houses), factories, and, occasionally, frozen river. The train made a number of stops along the way, each one ranging from 5 to 20 minutes, and you could go out to buy drinks and snacks at the many kiosks by the side of the track.

It was best, though, to bring your own supply of food and eat together with your friends, as we did. The amusing part was that the food were supposed to last us for the whole journey, but as it happened, a couple of hours (or less?) was all that was needed to polish off the sushi, tandoori chicken, fried squids, jemput-jemput, and corn pudding. I think they should just provide us a kitchen next time.

Kak Nadiyah, Fatin, Fahida and Shafwan in front of the renowned St. Basil's Cathedral.

We managed to make a little day tour around the heart of Moscow- the Red Square and Kremlin, Arbat street, and Europa mall for halal kebabs at Kebab House. Snow had melted, and the Red Square was a picture of puddles of water. The weather was gloomy and foggy too, and later in Arbat it rained.

Shafwan with the Kremlin at the background.

It was only the second time that I had really been in Moscow, after a 3-day stopover last summer. The city emits an appealing aura- its strange blend of opulence and decay fascinates me. The wobbly, wooden-benched but fast metro, the olden architecture of Kievskiy train station next to the steely-looking Europa mall... it would be comforting to think that the contrast provides some kind of balance to the setting of this great capital, except that I know better. It seems to be a recurrent theme in many cities in this country- beautiful, elegant shops for the rich are everywhere, yet you see poor people, beggars in every direction. Moscow is the reputed capital of billionaires, yet many of its public facilities leave much to be desired. Where does all the wealth go to- making the rich richer?

Gum, a luxurious shopping mall at Red Square, housing all the pricey labels. We went in to use the bathroom. ;p

gorgeous baby and father inside Gum

I think packing all these into one entry is starting to look wearisome. I'll follow up with the Moscow Metro... soon. ;D

the person whom i love most

2009-03-09T08:33:00.005+08:00

The person whom I love most is someone I have never met in my life, but hold dear hope of meeting one day. I was taught to love him ever since I was small, even more than the love I should reserve for my father and mother. It was difficult- I’d read about his life and attributes and I loved and held him in high esteem, but to sincerely love him more than my whole family whom I’ve known for life? Truth be told, I didn’t put in too much effort then to inculcate the feeling in its entirety- I thought it was normal because of the huge chronological gap between us, plus the vague details I knew about his appearance.

But love really does transcend all that. As I grew, I kept reading stories about him I’ve read tens of times before, and each time felt like I was reading something new- their meanings stretched further and further into the nooks and cranny of my heart. I eventually came to understand when, upon finishing a chapter about him, my heart would ache from a sense of longing, and a session wouldn’t pass without a tear being shed. At risk of sounding melodramatic, I had finally found the love I was searching for.

I feel fortunate to be born a Muslim, but at times I do envy Muslim reverts who have willfully sought out the truth and have pure notions about what defines Islam and the true way of living it. And thus, their newfound love is both strong and pure. Contrary to what many would believe, Muslims like me don’t have it all laid out for us. Again, I’m fortunate to be blessed with God-fearing parents, but in a society intertwined with miscellaneous strings of opposing nature i.e. tradition and modernisation, life’s tricky for all. True faith is not a given; you can be a Muslim by name for all your lives, yet your heart is empty.

But I digress. The person that I love most- the Prophet Muhammad S.A.W. was a man like no other. He is lauded the world over for his steady success in all aspects of leadership- religious-wise, military-wise, government-wise, yet what strikes most about him is his excellent morals and manners- attributes that have won him many admirers and turned enemies into believers.

“Indeed you stand on an exalted standard of character.” (Al-Qalam 68:4)

Ali ibn abi Talib r.a. has described prophet Muhammad S.A.W. in length:

"He was not vulgar nor did he condone vulgarity, and he was not one to shout in the market place. He did not reward evil with evil, rather, he would forgive and overlook. He never in his life struck anything with his hand except when he was fighting in the name of Allah. He never struck a servant nor a woman, and I never saw him taking revenge for an injustice dealt him, except if the prohibitions of Allah were transgressed. For if the prohibitions of Allah were transgressed he was among the strongest of them in anger. He was never given a choice between two matters but he chose the simpler of the two. If he entered into his home he was a man like any other; cleaning his own garment, milking his own goat, and serving himself.

He would guard his tongue from that which did not concern him. He would attract them (the people) and not repel them. He would ennoble the noble of the people and charge them with their affairs. He was wary of the people and guarded himself against them but without depriving them a warm smile or fitting conduct. He would inquire after his companions and would ask the people about their affairs. He would encourage that which was good and strengthen it, and he would discourage that which was evil and undermine it.

He was balanced and consistent. He would never be neglectful that they would not learn neglect and grow indifferent. He had a provision for every occasion and he never fell short of justice nor exceeded it. The closest people to him were the best among them, and the best among them in his eyes were the most comprehensive in advice. The highest of them in stature with him was the best among them in looking after the people and assisting them.

He would not rise nor sit down without praise [to God]. If he visited a gathering he would sit wherever the group ended (and not at their head) and he encouraged the same. He would give all those sitting with him their just due [to the extent that] they would each feel that none was more important to him than them. If someone were to sit with him or come in search of a favor he would be patient with them until they (the guest) would be the one to leave. Whoever came to him with a request was never turned away except with that which they had asked for or with a kind word.

His cheerfulness and good manners encompassed them all such that he became a father to them and they all became equal in rights. His gatherings were those of knowledge, humbleness, patience, and integrity. In them there would be no raising of voices nor transgressions of prohibitions. They would not expose one-another's errors, but would be equal, encouraging each-other in the fear of God. In them, they would respect their elders, be merciful to their children, give preference to those in need, and protect the stranger."

He continues: "He was continually smiling, gentle in manners, soft in nature. He was not severe, harsh-hearted, loud, abusive, or miserly. He would disregard that which he disliked, and no one ever despaired of him. He never responded to disparagement or evil words.

He forbade upon himself three things: Argument, arrogance, and that which did not concern him. And he relieved the people of three: He would not degrade any among them or abuse them, he would not search after their honor or private matters, and he would not speak except in matters which he hoped to be rewarded for. When he spoke his attendees would lower their heads as if birds had alighted upon them. Once he finished they would speak. They would not vie with one-another in his presence to speak, but when one would talk in his presence the rest would listen until he finished. Speech in his presence was that of the first among them. He would laugh with them, and wonder with them. He had patience with the strangers when they were gruff in speech and requests, to a degree that his companions would fetch them to him. He would say: 'If you see someone in need, fetch him to me.'

He would not accept praise except from those who were balanced and not excessive. He would not interject into someone's speech unless they transgressed, in which case he would either rebuke them or else leave. He was the most generous of heart, truthful of tongue, softest in disposition, and noble in relationship. He who first set eyes upon him feared him, but he who associated with him loved him. Those who described him would say: 'I have never seen before or after him anyone similar to him, peace be upon him'.

All accounts of his life testify to the peerless superiority of his character. How it hurts me then, to read about contortions of truth by some people based on semi-learned facts about the Prophet which they patch together to form a twisted puzzle of an image. Whilst they appear to be pathetic and bedeviled by prejudices, there are seemingly a lot of ignorant people out there who fall prey to those lies. By all means, try to read all objective works on him and you will find that, amongst others, his admirable character is indisputable. The prophet, whilst clearly displaying the most exemplary virtues of a human being, however disliked being praised and put upon a pedestal. Anas ibn Malik said:

"No one was more beloved to us than the Messenger of Allah (s.a.w.), [however], if we saw him we would not stand up for him for we knew how much he disliked [for us to do so].”

And on one occasion someone called to him saying: "O best of mankind ..." He replied: "That is Ibrahim, peace be upon him".(Muslim)

By nature he was gentle and kind-hearted, always inclined to be gracious and to overlook the faults of others. Politeness and courtesy, compassion and tenderness, simplicity and humility, sympathy and sincerity were some of the keynotes of his character. One day, he was leading the prayer and intended to make it long, when he heard the cry of a baby. He then shortened the prayer because he didn’t want the mother to be worried and distracted.

Once, a pagan (in another account, a Jew) by the name of Zaid ibn Sa'ana came to the Messenger of Allah (S.A.W.) in order to collect a debt. When he drew near Muhammad (S.A.W.) he wrenched him by his clothes violently, exposing his shoulder, and spoke rudely at him. Finally, he said: "You sons of Abdul Muttalib are all a procrastinating lot." Immediately, Umar ibn Al-Khattab leapt at him chastising and rebuking him harshly, all the while the Messenger of Allah (S.A.W.) looked on smiling. Then the Prophet (S.A.W.) said to Umar: "He and I were in need of other than this O Umar; You should have commanded me to excel in my repayment, and have commanded him to excel in his request for repayment." He (Muhammad, S.A.W.) said: "There [still] remains in his term three [days]" However, He (Muhammad, S.A.W.) then immediately commanded Umar to see to his recompensation and to increase him twenty 'saa' (weights) as compensation for the ‘terrorisation’ he had endured (from Umar). This man later became a Muslim. (Al-Bayhaqi, ibn Habban, and Al-Tabarani)

One of the Prophet’s most famous attributes is his matchless generosity. In an authentic hadith narrated by Bukhari, it was said that he was never asked for something and then said ‘no’. Abu Dharr narrated that Allah's Messenger (S.A.W.) said,

"If I had gold equal to the mountain of Uhud, it would not please me that any of it should remain with me after three nights (i.e. I would spend all of it in Allah's cause) except what I would keep for repaying debts." (Bukhari)

Once the Prophet went home in a hurry after the prayer and then immediately came out again. The people were surprised, but he told them that he had remembered during the prayer that there was some gold in his house. He thought that he might forget and the gold might remain there all night. He then went back home to ask that it might immediately be given in charity.

His love for the poor was so deep that he used to pray: "O Allah, keep me poor in my life and at my death and raise me at resurrection among those who are poor." (Nasai)

To his wife he said, "O A'ishah, love the poor and let them come to you and Allah will draw you near to Himself." (Bukhari)

His sense of justice was also unassailable and in a narration by Abu Dawud, the Jews, in spite of their hostility to the Prophet S.A.W., were so impressed by his impartiality and sense of justice that they used to bring their cases to him, and he decided them according to Jewish law.

Once, while he was distributing the spoils of war, people flocked around him and one man almost fell upon him. He pushed the men with a stick causing a slight abrasion. He was so sorry about this that he told the man that he could have his revenge, but the man said, "O messenger of Allah, I forgive you." (Abu Dawud)

The miracle to result from the examples of the Prophet was the staggering transformation in the morals and manners of the people itself, who, not so many years before, were a bunch of brash, discourteous tribesmen, readily spilling blood with one another over wealth, women and status. Iqbal mentions these gifts of Prophet Muhammad in some of his inimitable verses:

He slept on a mat of rushes,
But the crown of Chosroes lay beneath the feet of his followers;
He chose the nightly solitude of Mount Hira,
And founded a nation, law and government;
He passed his nights with sleepless eyes,
That his Millet might sleep on Chosroes throne
In the hour of battle, iron was melted by the flash of his sword.
At prayer time, tears fell like drops of rain from his eyes.
In his prayer for Divine help, his Amen' was a sword,
Which extirpated the lineage of kings.
He inaugurated a new Order in the world,
He brought the empires old to an end:
In his sight the high and the low were one,
He sat with the slave at table one;
He burnt clear the distinctions of birth and clan.
His fire consumed all this trash and bran.

Do we truly appreciate what the Prophet S.A.W. has done for us? Do all of us even realise just how much he loved us and constantly worried about our fate right till the end of his life? Do we truly feel his sorrows in Taif and Uhud? Verse 178 from Surah At-Taubah tugged at my heart whenever I read it:

“Now hath come unto you a Messenger from amongst yourselves: it grieves him that ye should perish: ardently anxious is he over you: to the Believers is he most kind and merciful.”

Let’s all take a moment to reflect on our love for the Prophet and how we can best demonstrate it. Return to the core teachings of Al-Quran and As-sunnah. I realise it’s not enough to offer such general words of advice, yet to list down everything we all know but may have slipped our mind won’t fit into this one article. One of the Prophet’s last words was to uphold solaah, and whilst it is something that I’m sure we all do, let’s all try to improve on the quality of our prayers.

“Establish regular prayers - at the sun's decline till the darkness of the night, and the morning prayer and reading: for the prayer and reading in the morning carry their testimony.

And pray in the small watches of the morning (tahajjud): (it would be) an additional prayer (or spiritual profit) for thee: soon will thy Lord raise thee to a Station of Praise and Glory!”

Al-Isra’:78-79

Allahumma salli ala saiyidina Muhammad waala alihi wasahbihi ajmaiin.

Ps: Materials were extracted from As-Sirah An-Nabawiyyah by Sh. Abul Hasan Ali An-Nadwy.
Pps: To those who managed to read this without skipping so much as a sentence (I know it's long), I hope you have gained some benefits from it. ;)

"Cataract"

2009-01-19T18:12:00.011+08:00

I’m in the middle of my exams and my mind is a bedlam but I’m determined to write today no matter what. I know by the end of this I’ll be screaming with self-condemnation and whatnots, but for now, let me be. This won’t be a long essay outlining some key guidelines to world peace, nor will it be an angsty commentary on why no football player is worth a hundred million pounds when people in Gaza are starving and that Kaka is hundred million times better off in Milan anyway (Giorgio Armani agrees with me too).

I just want to make a few statements to people who matter to me- specifically those whom I don’t contact often. OK, that would make ALL the people that matter. To my defence, firstly, my archaic hand phone has officially been retired.

The fall from grace was gradual- the screen initially went blank, though I could still receive calls and send messages (with a blank screen, mind. Kinda like a twisted version of Braille). The state then progressed to receiving calls but not hearing the caller’s voice when picked up (but he/she could still hear me). So the phone could still be useful if, say, hypothetically, I was kidnapped and managed to call my sister and informed her of the situation so that she could get help, but would be totally ineffective if the situation was reversed. By then, I already sensed the downhill direction of this device I bought a little over two years ago after ‘donating’ my previous faithful one to the hospital where I had my practical classes.

And as of today, I can’t even use it as an alarm anymore- gotta be content with that shrieking monotonous sound of my table clock. No more good music waking you up. But that’s the least of my concerns- bottom line is, I can’t contact any of you guys. For some of you who use the internet as much as I do, it’s not that big of a problem, but I know some of you who don’t.

To get to the point after that dismal, rather unnecessary ode to my hand phone, I miss a lot of people back home. Especially after talking to my parents the day before yesterday- I sorely miss home. I want to go home. And I’m not talking about the food one bit this time. Really.

Perhaps it’s part of the exam syndrome. Or the after-effect of “Hari bersama pejabat dekan”. Anyhow, I’m so not in the mood to study now (aah, finally I let that out loud and clear!). I think I’ll make myself a cup of tea.

ps: Great photos by my brother Muhammad taken during Palestine solidarity rallies in Cardiff and Bristol. Way to go, badut!

This pic was published in Reuters's site. (Hope you won't mind me putting it up here. My site carries more weight than theirs. Hahaha.) ;)

Day of Ashura

2009-01-06T20:53:00.007+08:00

In the month of Muharram, we should remember the Hijrah of the Prophet (peace and blessings be upon him) from Makkah to Madinah. There are many lessons in this story and it can help us understand the basic significance of the Hijrah calendar. It is good to remember that Hijrah was a significant move for the growth of Islam and throughout history, Islam has benefited from the Hijrah.

It is also the Sunnah of the Prophet (peace and blessings be upon him) to fast on the 9th and 10th of Muharram. The Prophet (peace and blessings be upon him) used to fast on the 10th day (`Ashura'). When he came to Madinah, he found out that the Jews of Madinah were also fasting on this day remembering Prophet Musa (peace and blessings be upon him). The Prophet (peace and blessings be upon him) admired this tradition and he said to the Jews, "We are closer to Musa than you are." He fasted and he also told his Companions to fast on this day. Later, before the end of his life on this earth, the Prophet (peace and blessings be upon him) told Muslims to add the 9th day also. Thus, it is recommended to fast on both the 9th and 10th of Muharram.

It is also good to remember the great sacrifice of Al-Husain and his family (may Allah be pleased with all of them). Theirs was the true Jihad for the cause of truth and justice. We should learn the lessons of courage, patience and perseverance from the episode of Karbala' (year 61 A.H. / 680 C.E).

Dr. Muzammil Siddiqi, president of the Fiqh Council of North America

~~~

New year holidays are a blanket term that predominantly comprises of study leave for winter exams. So whilst I should be out there painting the town red (or white, to be in tune with the mood) or stuffing snowballs into some poor fella's hood, I'm glued to these four walls, torn between the bed and the table. I did go out yesterday, actually, but it didn't snow. Those white thingies are mischievous- they would usually choose exam days and those surrounding them to pay us a merry visit. How befitting.

Making a stand

2009-01-01T04:14:00.009+08:00

I remember entering 2005 with the world shrouded by the Indian Ocean tsunami tragedy. Today, we usher into 2009 and 1430 with a parallel atmosphere- in the form of classic work of terrorism by the Israeli Zionists. There are so many emotions compressing my chest when asked to voice my opinion on this particular issue, mostly excruciating to try putting into words. Whether you’re a Muslim and think that this is by and large an issue of native Palestinians wanting to regain the rights to their land and deny the primary cause being religious (which is a misapprehension, if you study the Quran and hadith), or a non-Muslim who think this an Islamic cause and has nothing to do with you, you can’t deny the fact that what we see happening in Palestine today is an injustice in the most extreme of definitions. What indeed is the justification of the Zionists invading the land, ousting its inhabitants by force, besides it being their so-called promised land? And how can the rest of the world even justify that when 99% of us are not even Jewish? I fail to see the logic in an era overfed with a supposed sense of political correctness and pretend civilisation.

It is difficult to resolve the crisis when the bad guys get all the backings from certain giant superpowers who swiftly pave the way for these people to play big bullies, quashing any efforts from other parties to restore integrity. What then, can we measly members of the society do?

Firstly, we have to take a stand. I, as a Muslim, perhaps feel a greater sense of kinship with this issue, but it’s a cause everyone should be aware of. What can we do against these terrorists, being so far away from our brothers and sisters? We pray, pray, and keep praying. We spread the news; build up awareness within the public. And a point strongly stressed in yesterday’s weekly halaqah centering on this current predicament- strive to improve ourselves, to make ourselves worthy Muslims whose prayers will be answered.

Why do we boycott their goods? To show our solidarity and earnestness, with the ambitious goal of subverting their economy. Why do we make public protests? Again, to show our solidarity AND to pressure these people into retracting their actions. International pressure has been proven to work in past aggressions, and although it may not bear similar results in this case, what do we have to lose? I believe it’s better than going about in our everyday complacency, perhaps occasionally condemning these abominable acts when they’re shown on TV, and that’s that. It’s something I feel strongly about, and although I can’t have everyone seeing it through my eyes, I wish they would. I’ve blogged about this issue a couple of times already, but it’s a timeless cause, and I will continue to bring it up in the future.

So I guess that ends my reflection of December. As of the year 2008- it has been a good year, but I wish I had written more. I wish I had done a whole lot more. Well.

And I miss home.

November reflection

2008-11-30T16:14:00.005+08:00

This month has served as a period of self-evaluation for me, which classically means a lot of clashing dialogues with my conscience at any moment in time. I think it’s good to maintain an active relationship with your conscience- as long as you keep it between you and your conscience, of course. It also reflects, to me at least, just how imperfect and unsure I am of every single step I make in life, more so than I had willed myself to admit. Perhaps some revolve around so-called redundant matters like what to cook for dinner, whether I should do the laundry now or later, etc. but some others do carve their makings into the patterns of my present and future. Besides, I intend not to belittle every small decision I make, even if it were a question of choosing between fresh and frozen broccoli, for the lack of a better example.

I suppose it began with me spraining my left ankle for the umpteenth time and pretended to be superman by continuing to walk up and down the hill on my way to class before taking buses and trams like I always did, play sports, and injuring it again with the coolest of bruises that extended up to 5cm above the ankle. My sister chewed me out with talks of permanent damage if I didn’t give it a proper rest and that I might not even be able to become a surgeon because I couldn’t stand for long. So I decided to be kind to my hurt ankle by selling my newly-bought bus-and-tram pass and taking marshrut to class for the entire month. I was also to come straight back home after every class without any unnecessary detours. To make a short story shorter, I’ve been having a lot of ‘me’ time as a result, which explains the self-evaluation part.

Some other trials and tribulations played their roles as well, and I’ve been trying hard to take a positive approach towards everything I’ve faced so far. It’s quite amusing when someone recently commented that I always seemed happy doing whatever I was doing, when in fact I had just cried my eyes out earlier that day. In one way or another, it’s a good thing that I managed to keep the negative aura within bounds, but some of my issues need solutions, for which I am yet to uncover. I’m turning to Allah for strength, and to my parents for inspiration in facing their own ordeals. My father is the archetype of calmness, and faces his current test in a most exemplary attitude as a Muslim. My mother, despite being a worrywart, never fails to give me the most necessary advices when I need them. I look up to them both, and pray Allah will ease them along their every path.

This year has been a year of tests for our family- plainly spelled out for my youngest brother and sister in the form of PMR and SPM, more intricately woven for the rest of us in many ways feasible. That’s not to say it’s a bad year- for me it’s been… enlightening, with lots of ups and downs. In the struggle for the better, occasionally- okay, more than occasionally- the demon in me will come out and spoil my willpower. It’s a constant frustration, the bane of my resolution. Yes, nobody’s perfect- everybody has their inner demons- but, whether it is due to better awareness in my part (how I wish so), or just for the degree of evilness it truly is, I really hate mine and wanna totally get rid of it. I suspect it won’t ever go away fully, but maintaining the struggle, or jihad, is essential nonetheless. Inner demons are not good for you- they mess with your mind, dim your hopeful future, and make you look totally uncool in front of your conscience.

Today, further sad news came to test us- my great-grandmother just passed away in the morning due to a lung infection. I last saw her in August, during which she appeared healthy and in high spirits- she even gave me a good hard slap on the thigh after laughing from a joke. I pray that she be placed amongst the blessed believers in the hereafter and spared from any torment in the grave. And let’s all reserve a moment to remind ourselves of this fleeting phase called life, and its nemesis, death- how near it is to each and every one of us regardless of age, gender, status, race… and how (un)prepared we truly are for it.

Bon anniversaire!

2008-10-16T01:51:00.003+08:00

To a beautiful person who turns 21 today. We haven’t met in two years, yet she is still the person I wish to share all my happy and sad stories with. It is still a wish, but I think we’re past all that nitpicking- no matter what happens, we will always have each other’s back to cling to. Be happy, and may Allah place us under His guidance always.

After yet another search for old pics and two CDs later, I found these, taken when we last went to eat sushi, which I believe was in 2005. That's ancient, kiddo.

Eid moments

2008-10-06T10:56:00.028+08:00

I promised my parents some photos so here they are. I've been having a persistent sore throat for the past two days which can't be assuaged by almost a pack of Strepsils; the catalyst must have been all the rendang and laksa and soto up till last night. My bad. So today begins my 'detox' campaign- healthy food all the way... ;p

SUNRISE, 1st day of Eid

CLASS AND LECTURE, 1st day of Eid

with our Ophthalmology lecturer

with fellow 4th year students before lecture on Obstetrics

OPEN HOUSE, 3rd day of Eid

kuih raya

kuah kacang, a hit with everyone every year (which, unfortunately, I've never fancied)

Fatin and Naj digging out Farah's yummy laksa

Most of 4th year Muslim students with some of our non-Muslim friends

4th year girls

SUNRISE, 6th day of Eid

OPEN HOUSE, 6th day of Eid

Soto and Laksa at Anis's and Baya's house

Hosts and guests posing together

Eid and sunrises

2008-09-29T20:43:00.007+08:00

We’re celebrating eid on Tuesday over here- a heartfelt wish to my Muslim brothers and sisters all over the world. Ramadhan, as always, elapse fleetingly, and I am routinely left wondering whether I have truly made the most of this period of bounty and mercy.

First day of Syawal will be observed within the four walls of our mobster of a lecturer’s room, trembling from fear of being the next victim of her ‘constructive criticism’. Haha. I made her sound quite criminal, but she’s not, really. She just scowls instead of smiles, and does not practice filtration of thoughts, is all. Oh and don’t try to act smart unless you’re sure, or she may start to question your worth as a human being. These trivia swept aside though, she’s a brilliant doctor and teacher. I just wish our Opthalmology classes had ended before Syawal- next cycle is pretty stress-free- so that we can have a proper celebration.

We’re going through quite a chilly autumn now, as opposed to last autumn at this time of year. Green colour still dominates, although the shade gets duller by the day. I’m coveting the sight of my favourite season here- seas of golden leaves with blushes of crimson speckled in between. It’s the best time for choosing to walk back home from classes- the best time for appreciating the delicacy of nature, as the weather is neither too cold nor too hot for comfort. The sun rises later, giving you a chance to get a glimpse of its glory (no similar chance during summer- unless you’re an owl).

I’ve seen so many sunrises here, more than I’ve ever had back in Malaysia. As seasons trade places, so do my sleeping and waking time, and thus, for a variety of reasons, I consider watching the sunrise most opportune during late autumn and early winter, and exam time in summer (when you magically transform into an owl). For the past three years I’ve lived in this side of the building, facing the sunrise. And all this while, I’ve been longing to switch to the other side towards the sunset. For I’ve always thought that sunsets are prettier than sunrises, and the sunsets here are really something to behold of. Imagine a rainbow the size of the sky.

When it comes down to it, I can watch the sunset every day easily as my sister’s room is just on the opposite side- she indulges in the wonder every day. But I don’t. For the most part, it’s due to lack of attentiveness- the sky will almost always have gone dark when I come to notice about time. But also, I love the moment when I suddenly come across the sunset once in a while- the surge of amazement at such an ornate mesh of colours profiling the sky. I doubt the feeling of awe will recede by watching it every day, but occasions do make things appear more special.

In spite of it, however, I still wish I can watch the sunset every day- some things I believe won’t lose their magic even through constant repetition, and sunsets are one of them.

For now though, I’m perfectly content with beautiful sunrises.

The Tempest

2008-09-21T19:18:00.021+08:00

Salam Ramadhan everyone.

Two months later and it might feel like I’ve lost my grasp on the writing habit- you know what they say after a continuous 40 days of doing something (or not doing something, for that matter). But old habits die hard, and I’ve been itching since roughly five weeks ago to phrase my thoughts into coherent writing. Suffice to say that I’ve failed, miserably, which says a lot about my current state of mind- incomprehensible. I’m strangely in high spirits, but not the kind that gets you jumping up and down the floor screaming your heads off- more like lying-down-on-bed-dreaming kind of happy. I’m not very happy with the lack of words forming in my head though- swimming around merrily, but always out of reach. A brick wall inside your head is so not convenient.

So since I’ve been sidelined by my own head, I’d better be efficient- I’ll compartmentalise this post into appropriate moments that best illustrate the past two months I’ve been missing.

Best moment(s): every waking moment at home- I’ve been more ‘domestic’ than ever this holiday, traveling only to KL a few times for some grinding legal matters, meeting family and friends… but still it’s the best holiday so far (although I thought the same last year, and the year before too). The Olympics were so much fun and I found myself watching events that I never had much before, like archery and rowing, alongside favourite ones like football, tennis, swimming, badminton, and gymnastics. Other seemingly mundane stuff like eating out, taking pictures along the beach near the house, going to the local pasar malam, and sweating it out at Bukit Pelindung, were enough to make me one contented person.

With Tiey and Mant.

With Bihah and Mant.

With Erfa. Nice chocolate nectar eh, Pa? *laughs*

Worst moment(s): I don’t think it need be spelt, but well, I‘ll do it for effect. Hehe. The last day on home soil wins hands down as my worst moment this year, even. Summer holidays puzzlingly felt like they were getting shorter and shorter each coming year and by the end of it this time, I was totally caught by surprise. August especially, flew by unnervingly. So, the usual drama at the airport took place (I warned my dad beforehand not to make me cry this time, but he did, again. Argh.), plus another drama involving overweight luggages (we’re students! Give us some leeway!), and another involving that unfortunate time of month- all of which combined to make me one depressed traveler. Oh and, as always, I strained from the urge to vomit right before touching down on my final destination- what was with all the fancy motions by the plane anyway? It occurs every single time I fly, at the same location. Twilight zone stuff.

With family at KLIA before departure.

Funniest moment(s): I’ve retold this story over and over again, and I still find it tickling to the bones. There was a health awareness program at the clinic where my father worked and I accompanied him there for the day. A blood drive was held, and so I went to donate mine. The medical assistant there asked me random questions whilst poking me with the giant needle- my place of study, course, etc. Afterwards he got up to the nurses gathering nearby and jokingly said that someone came from Russia, referring to me. Not long after, a nurse came to my side, smiled, and asked, “Can you speak Malay?” Puzzled, all I could utter was “uh?” and she good-naturedly repeated her question before the situation sank in. I stifled the urge to laugh as I sheepishly answered her question to the affirmation. She then realised her misconception and gave an embarrassed laugh, together with practically everyone within a two-metre radius. Jeez, someone actually took me for a Russian, which was a hoot, considering how many Russians would normally stare at me like I couldn’t get more alien. Haha.

Weirdest moment(s): Have you seen a tapir other than the ones at the zoo? And two days in a row? I happened to see one at my grandfather’s orchard as he ran towards us before fleeing the other direction. The white saddle of his body startled me- he truly looked like a giant baby in a napkin. The very next day, I followed my dad to work (in Kerteh) and on the way back we saw a dead tapir by the roadside, appearing to have been hit by a car. There were cliffs at either side of the road with dividers alongside it, so it seemed unlikely that the tapir was attempting to cross the road in front of a car- he must have been hit whilst going along the road, a situation that seemed bizarre anyways. The weird encounters piqued my interest in the well-being of these cute animals. I know tapirs are endangered and protected animals, but unlike many other similarly-fated creatures in the past and present, these guys are not being hunted to extinction- they are essentially being driven out of their habitats due to deforestation for developmental purposes. What use is the protected status if they’re being actively rendered homeless by the authorities anyway? Do these people think tapirs find it fun to take a stroll across highways?

Sometimes people can just be infuriatingly ignorant about the welfare of our less-intelligent cohabitants. I can’t expect everyone to go gushy over a cute cat, sure, but at least practice some civilisation, if not compassion. Those who think it’s amusing to drill holes into a spider’s abode for instance, think again, this time using your brain. Would you like this to be done to you? Being ousted from your home and worse still, you can’t even say anything about it? Animals may lack higher cognitive functions that humans possess, but they know when we are being cruel to them. Unlike us, they are not capable of being cruel. So where’s the sense of shame? It’s not the fact that you see me as an animal lover- if treating these lovable creatures with justice and respect they deserve is solely the task of an animal lover, then every single one of us should become one. Enough of the unkindness and warped sense of superiority. Please.

Scariest moment(s): A tie between going past Bukit Bauk in Kerteh and my ambulatory exam second week of the current semester. My father told me the story of Bukit Bauk, a place so haunted people who went there came back suffering from fits of hysteria. The recreational park built at the foot of hill had been abandoned as nobody dared to come close to it. Every motorist going to Dungun though, must pass the entrance to the park, and even this near-encounter had caused some tingly experiences for many. So when my father and I were spending the night at Dungun due to the health awareness program the following day, I was naturally terrified at the thought of passing by the hill. Thankfully nothing happened, but my heart was doing double-twists the whole way, which I was sure had nothing to do with the works of supernatural creatures. My father, however, said he had intense headache as we drove past the infamous area. I made a silent vow not to ever go through this experience again.

The exam was an entirely different matter- we were all not really aware of its existence other than its existence (meaning we knew there would be an exam but were vague on the details), and all of a sudden we were doing practical reports and slammed with tens of questions about emergency medicine for the exam, all in a span of three days. I didn’t exactly nail it, enough to say, but it could have gone worse. And lucky I had the nice old lady for examiner. ;p

Special moments that made the holiday different: visiting my Quran teachers, old headmaster and great-grandmother. The first ustaz, Ustaz Yusof, had taught me Quran since I was little (about four I think) until I reached standard six, when he became ill and stopped teaching altogether. He was the one who taught me the proper way to recite the Quran, with precise makhraj and tajwid, and I couldn’t thank him enough for that. His strictness (always with a cane in hand) made us work harder; any moment of daydreaming would be swiftly halted by his booming, scolding voice.

Ustaz Hussein, in contrast, was very gentle n soft-spoken. He taught me the art of taranum, and a bit of berzanji. I first had a dream of me visiting him this holiday and immediately asked my dad about the plan, and thought of visiting the other two influential persons in my life as well. Seeing him for the first time after a few years made my eyes welled up with tears- he looked very thin and frail, walking with the aid of a walking frame. And as a result of his conditions, he didn’t remember every single one of us, even after we prompted him with details. I felt a mixture of sadness and happiness as we talked; sad to see him unwell and so thin (he used to be a little plump), happy to be able to see him again. It didn’t matter very much that he didn’t remember me anymore, I just wished him well and always under Allah’s blessings and protection.

Meeting Ustaz Yusof was a merrier event- he seemed healthy and in good spirits. We drank tea as we listened to his childhood stories, mainly about how he came to choose to study religion instead of more ‘academic’ courses, as he was one of the top students in his state at the time. When we were leaving, he broke into tears as he hugged my brother, and as I watched, I too, had to wipe away a tear or two. Elder people are easy to please- a simple visit like this is enough to make them feel so happy and appreciated, something that we younger people have to learn a lot from. Ustaz Hussein even said, “bila orang ziarah, rasa mcm ubat kepada penyakit kita.” Let’s be more grateful for what others have done to us, no matter how small the deed is.

Next destination: my old headmaster, whom I called mudir (‘headmaster’ in Arabic). He fell sick not a while ago, but when we met him he appeared to be his positive and smiling self. I looked up to him when I was a scruffy standard-one student- I would wait for him to arrive at school in his red proton saga and open his door for him. He would then thank me profusely and search his pockets for a RM1 coin to give me as a reward, and made my day. He was my English teacher, and a very good one at that. But more importantly, he was a great motivator- always encouraging me to expand my abilities further, be it in English or other subjects, by entering writing and oratory competitions, and even offered me to skip a grade once (it was a private school so that was possible). In short, he was my unofficial mentor, something not any teacher could simply be.

We took pictures with all three of them, and all of them had one common remark when asked for it- “Kena pakai cantik-cantik sikit…!” Ustaz Yusof even insisted to change his shirt and put on his serban. Hehe.

My sister, brother, and I with ustaz Hussein and his wife.

With Ustaz Yusof.

With Mudir.

I am not one of those students who are very close to their teachers; those who ask a lot of questions, confide in them with their problems, and even have their telephone numbers at hand… that’s not me. I prefer to ask my friends before resorting to the teacher (something that my mother wasn’t very happy with- “Always ask your teachers!” Hehe) and I keep my polite distance from them, save a very few. It’s not that I don’t value them much- I do- but I don’t know… perhaps because I was quite the rebel and often got into trouble with some teachers (minor stuff, nothing quite tragic). But anyway, I do appreciate my teachers and I want to visit them at my old schools, but due to my aforesaid states of relationship with most of them, I’d rather be accompanied by friends and visit as a group. So friends who read this, let’s do it sometime, alright? ;)

The last event I would like to mention is the visit to my great-grandmother’s place in Muar. My sister and I went with our grandparents on a day’s visit. She was the mother of my mother’s father, and, according to her identification card, she turned 100 this year (which was a bit far-fetched- she was more like 90). When we met her, she was in an amazingly good shape, her memory more than anything else. She remembered us clearly, what we were up to, and asked the well-being of each of our siblings. We stayed for lunch and went back to KL that evening.

I didn’t meet a lot of my friends this time, but I got to meet people from the older generation instead, which was just as swell. I might sound a bit dramatic in my accounts, but I did feel quite emotional during those visits, something that I tried to somewhat conceal at the time. I pray to Allah s.w.t to bless all these good people and put them amongst the righteous in the hereafter.

So there. An attempted short report made long. Excuse my plain and crude language, I’m writing this during a very demanding rotation with a lecturer whose remarks and expressions remind me of the Wicked Witch of The West, or bitter lemon. She’s a very good teacher though, but I still doubt I’ll ever consider choosing Ophthalmology as a specialty. Hehe.

Alright, I’m off to cook for iftar. I wish everyone a very happy and meaningful last ten days of Ramadhan, and special wish goes to my mother, father, brothers Muhammad and Luqman, sister Aliah; grandparents Aki, Tok Siah, Tok Mat and Tok Ampang; Acik, Ateh, Acu, Ummi Cik, Aunty Og, Aunty Ita, Aunty Hanis, and their respective families; Aunty Dah, Ibu, and all my friends… I’m sorry if I missed anyone. I guess this is my version of Salam Perantau.;p

My mum and dad... they celebrated their 24th anniversary on September 9th. May Allah bless both of you always. ;)

Ps: Today (22nd September) marks our 3rd anniversary of coming to Russia by the way. =)
Pps: Is this like, my longest post ever? *cackles*

of knights and vassals

2008-07-22T10:58:00.009+08:00

Entering the third week of my holiday and I can conclude that I've done good in the eating department, at least. Still working on other more productive activities as planned, but goodness, idyllic times can be deceptive. In other words, whilst I should be writing some serious stuff about my travels, I'm being lured into building an army in this Knighthood game in Facebook by my dad. He has become some sort of a fan whilst I just only realised (or remembered, I can't remember) that I actually have an account, and about a hundred of unanswered gifts/invitations. He's now instructing me to expand my marketplace and recruit more vassals. I currently have about, uh, 6, so my friends out there, beware- I'm going to add all of you as my friends (and vassals) in Facebook! hahaha... dah lame tak buat bende2 mcm ni.

I did manage to read a couple of good books, climb manggis trees at my grandfather's orchard, buy stuff off my grocery list to bring back to the land of the bears, play with the cats (my allergy's getting worse though), and a full swing of other ordinary activities that define a wonderful holiday. But I still want to do some extraordinary things (in my book at least) this time around, so don't write me off just yet.

And I've got myself a new camera at long last... though I must decline the invitation to join the macro war by my uncles- haven't finished reading the manual yet, plus am still undergoing basic lessons from my brother on several techniques. Hehe. Another year, perhaps? ;p

Loving my moment!

Sweet nothings

2008-07-09T11:40:00.009+08:00

It’s the same air we breathe, yet it feels different. Yes, it’s more humid, but that’s totally beside the point. I’m talking about this refreshing wave of familiarity rekindled; this friendly hot air pumping your sweat glands to work at full force- not quite unlike summer on the other side, but that minus the friendliness of course. Ask me not to elaborate on the friendliness- when you’ve lived three years in a land not exactly hailed for its hospitality, even the air becomes foreign.

So the long-anticipated summer holidays have finally arrived for everyone. I came home with quite an ambition this time- made a whole list of ambitious stuff to be accomplished. Like, for instance, finishing brutally unfinished chapters of growing travelogues. Perfecting my French- I mean, Russian. Or both, perhaps. Finding a lifelong cure for acne. The list goes on. Frankly, I think I have a better chance at winning Wimbledon than completing the list. Speaking of which, by the way, Federer lost to Nadal in a brilliant five-setter that got me glued to the screen till way past 4 in the wee hours of morning, no thanks to London rain which had the match suspended twice (thank God they’ll be putting the roof from next year onwards). I still think Federer’s winners (and not to mention aces) in his comeback after down two to love were pure genius, but kudos to Nadal for such dogged perseverance and vigour. It sure makes me wanna pick my racket up again… if only I had someone to play with. Tsk. (Erfa...!!!)

Writing has to take a backseat for a while now as I have tons to catch up on my reading. Except, of course, writing my travelogues. Yes, yes. Anyone interested, stay tuned… ;p

Eurexam's over

2008-06-30T05:42:00.004+08:00

Alhamdulillah... Exam's over, Euro 2008's over. Both went very well for me. Hehe. Now I'm going home.

ps: Congratulations to my seniors who graduated last week!

Eurexam 2008

2008-06-03T02:29:00.007+08:00

Final exams are five days away. So is Euro 2008. We’re having a conflict of interests here, see... the Fred Flintstone in me is racing wildly to Austria-Switzerland screaming "Yabba dabba do!" whilst the Homer Simpson in me is staring at those gooey pathological features of a cell with a "D'oh!" thrown in every now and then. We know who’ll win in the end (Homer’s pretty scary when he’s at it). My point is, Russia’s in the game so presumably I’ll be hearing extra mega-loud cheering from the building across (or wherever) this time, just like when they won the ice hockey world championship 2 weeks ago. It’s about time I put my earplugs to use.

In earnest, I have more than just doubts toward myself regarding the finals this time around. The year has been a farrago of doubts, confusion, surprises, fear, and discoveries, and now that it’s coming to a close, I’m not sure whether I am a better person for it. I hope so, but it’s been like a gain some, lose some thing for me all year round. I got a taste of adulthood when I came here, given carte blanche to orchestrate my own symphony of life, but often I long for my carefree days as a child. And final exams are an illustration of the few things you undergo throughout your entire life which become subject to evolution, themselves.

When you were little, you wanted to score 100% in all subjects. When you got older and the stuff you learned became curiously trickier, you lowered the bar a little- straight As were the goal. When you came here, you still wanted A (or the equivalent of it, which was 5), but counting in the peculiarity of the system, a B wouldn’t be so bad. Even a C didn’t necessarily mean you were a bad student, considering the circumstances you might have been unluckily pitched in. I don’t blame the system- every system has a flaw- but it does provide you with a comfy cushion for your impending frustrations. And that's exactly what I fear of- the comfort.

In the end, it’s up to each and everyone’s own efforts to rise above the system and fly solo. It does not matter much, in my opinion, whether you study locally or abroad. A good student is a good student, no matter where they are. And I want to be that student.

So I need to get off the laptop now. Mak and Abah, please pray for my success. Can’t wait to get home.

"It suddenly struck me that that tiny pea, pretty and blue, was the Earth. I put up my thumb and shut one eye, and my thumb blotted out the planet Earth. I didn't feel like a giant. I felt very, very small." –Neil Armstrong

Blessed gardens

2008-05-18T18:32:00.012+08:00

The increasingly bleak visage of this blog, fueled by the occasional words of reminder from a few people which are noticeably becoming frequent (thank you), I feel like I should finally write a word or two. Presumably I’ve been busy, although looking at the things that I do every day, one might have a hard time telling apart a medical student from a standard-fiver. However, final exams are almost here and everyone’s all gung-ho about it (actually more about the part that comes after it, where we’re going back home, but let’s skip the details.), so I think I’m gonna wash my white coat soon and come out brand new- literally and metaphorically speaking. Hehe.

Last week we held a fundraising campaign for the construction of a new mosque in the Kirovskiy region of Volgograd. Some of the activities included a talk, clip show, charity sale, and a trip to the current mosque adjacent to the construction site of the new one. We had all been made aware of the cause last year but not many really understood the dire need of it (me included). I thought, so they were building a mosque, good, good… I’d be glad to donate what my wallet could offer at the time.

But that day I decided to participate in the trip, and I finally understood, wholeheartedly... I was rendered speechless at the sight of the humble mosque which was about the size of a three-person room in my hostel (which we still complain about from time to time). We'd been shown a video interview of the elders who frequented the mosque earlier during our talk at the hostel, and I thought they were showing a part of the praying area, but really that was about the whole of it. The place itself was a picture of utmost calm, with comfy rugs and comforters over wooden benches where the elders sat, but it was nowhere sufficient for local Muslims to pray, especially during Friday prayers. The only other mosque in Volgograd (where Malaysians usually frequented) was also reported to be barely adequate during Fridays.

The cost of building the new mosque is estimated at 15 million Roubles (roughly equivalent to RM 2 million) and the accumulated sum so far is approximately 2 million Roubles (13.33% of the required amount)- 1 and a half years after the fund’s initiation, from what we were told. So you can see that we’re in quite a fix here. The project didn’t receive financial backing from the state government, although apparently talks are under way (which I imagine won’t be a walk in the park, not in very secular Russia). I feel like I need to do something besides giving a few wads of cash, and spreading the word seems about the only thing I’m in power of doing at the current ‘minion’ state of mine.

I thought I could do a decent job, perhaps with beautiful flowing words to attract people to the plea, but I guess this can get no plainer. Nevertheless, it’s an honest plea on behalf of Muslims in Volgograd who will tremendously benefit from the building of this mosque/Islamic centre, and you and I can be part of the barakah attained within it. I may not even be here when the mosque is finally completed, but building a mosque (especially where it's urgently needed) is a lasting heritage, a grounds for mercy in the hereafter, so that’s enough motivation for me.

If anyone would like to find out more about the project, please visit here. Contact persons are given at the site, but if you would like to make donations through me, you can email me at thescientist02@yahoo.com.

“And the likeness of those who spend their substance, seeking to please Allah and to strengthen their souls, is as a garden, high and fertile: heavy rain falls on it but makes it yield a double increase of harvest, and if it receives not heavy rain, light moisture sufficeth it. Allah seeth well whatever ye do.” (Al-Baqarah:265)

Cliche cliche

2008-04-13T13:26:00.007+08:00

As far as I had wanted to avoid a birthday post cliche, I'm writing one now- a short one. I'm 22 today, and as far as I am concerned, I am but a small pea in a bowl of pea soup. The longer I live, the more I see of the world- the same world that I have lived in all my life is shedding more n more of its kaleidoscope of light, making me feel like a newborn every once in while. Sometimes, the world's like a dear old friend; often it's an intriguing stranger. I've been blessed, saddened, disgusted, elated, and lately purely amazed at the complex machinery of the world's most prominent property- the people. I won't delve further into it now, but for one facet of the amazement- people's kindness. I realise today that there are so many people who are kind towards me yet I do little to reciprocate the humanity. People talk about little acts of kindness. In truth there exists no such thing- every act of kindness is BIG.

To everyone that matters, thank you for making my heart swell so large from your kindness (this sounds like something I've written last year or something. haha). May Allah bless you all.

Living zombie

2008-04-10T11:11:00.004+08:00

Here I am again, about to apologise to my sorry self for not keeping up with my resolution. It seems like I’ve been doing a number of fancy pirouettes with my circadian rhythm lately that I’m entering some sort of zombie mode now. And I might look like I’m about to fall into a state of anarchy at any moment, but that’s normal, because I’m sitting for my ‘certification exam’ for therapy and surgery next week, with a skimpy 3-day gap between one and the other. Charming, a student’s life, isn’t it? It’s bad enough that we get so few holidays here; they also conduct exams during regular schooldays, amidst neck-breaking classes. Alright, I’m exaggerating (the neck-breaking part, not the exam-during-school part. That's true.). A little random ‘experiment’ the other day pointed me to verse 112 (and the following verses) of Surah Al-Mu’minun which translate as follow:-

He will say: "What number of years did ye stay on earth?"

They will say: "We stayed a day or part of a day: but ask those who keep account."

He will say: "Ye stayed not but a little,- if ye had only known!

"Did ye then think that We had created you in jest, and that ye would not be brought back to Us (for account)?"

Therefore exalted be Allah, the King, the Reality: there is no god but He, the Lord of the Throne of Honour!

If anyone invokes, besides Allah, Any other god, he has no authority therefor; and his reckoning will be only with his Lord! and verily the Unbelievers will fail to win through!

So say: "O my Lord! grant Thou forgiveness and mercy for Thou art the Best of those who show mercy!"

Al-Mu’minun: 112-118

Happy birthday to my father, who turns 47 today. May Allah bless you always. I love you very much.

Good grief

2008-03-23T01:35:00.006+08:00

Last night snow revisited- unforeseen by, well, me at least. I never checked the weather forecast anyway. Spring was already manifest for the past 2-3 weeks, so to suddenly see pearly white patches on the ground this morning, was sweet. Of course, the sun melted all of them over the course of the day, and a ditch of water had me all over the edge of my trousers, but three cheers for three-degree’s worth of winter nostalgia. =D

So what’s new after one month of absence from writing? To sum it up in one sentence (‘cos I really need to get on with the picture-editing from my UK trip)- my sister and I received a fantastic parcel from home, I launched a ‘bring bentou’ campaign in the process to become, er, frugal, which proved to be rather successful, we operated on a cat, I finally got hold of a handphone (a friend lent me his old one) so people elsewhere on planet earth can communicate with me, my first attempt at making kek batik failed miserably (and after Flutterby said, “Don’t worry, nobody fails at making kek batik” too. Sob.), had a haircut, my 2nd attempt at competitive scrabble (3rd, if you count the one during matriculation) failed again (I’m such a pretender, I don’t even play scrabble), went to watch an orchestra (Mozart & Rossini), celebrated Women’s day in pink (haha), rekindled my passion for knitting (now the flame’s diminished again), and Russia elected their new president (‘Medved’ from Medvedev means ‘bear’, by the way).

From home, I learned about Malaysia’s revolutionary election, my 14-year-old brother’s triumph in state-level photography competition (do visit his flickr, he shoots brilliant pics with his point-and-shoot camera), the birth of new offspring (the cat’s, mind), and the latest pet to roam home sweet home- a tarantula. Way to go, guys!

There. As Charlie Brown would say, “Good grief”.

The Naivety That's Me

2008-03-22T02:45:00.006+08:00

Today, reality has faded away and fierce delusion is filling the void. The world can’t get more paradoxical than it already is, and I, even I, have begun to question the path I’m treading, the round earth I’m gravitating desperately so to. Yes, I am aware of the grey patches underlying every predicament there is, yet I can’t ignore the absolute truth that governs every existence, the black and white keeping the nature in balance. I see grey, but I see it only natural to make everything as white as they can possibly be.

When something so misguided is so blatantly served before my eyes, I’m often torn between going all out to set things straight, or just let it be because there’s no point in changing things already spoilt rotten. People toying with my faith, for example. I will by no means fall for their ‘rational’ reasoning and arguments, but should I persist in explaining the wisdoms of my belief, or stop engaging in a presumably fruitless discussion? On one hand, what’s the point in a debate when you already know the results, right? On the other hand, I fear of being a hypocrite- pretending to be all devoted when I do nothing to defend my faith being ridiculed.

Recent discoveries made my stomach crawl at how naive I actually am in facing the many facets of the world. Prejudices abound, people fearing things they don’t even understand, and it’s only deemed politically correct for people to show respect to my religion. I knew about all these already, but the extent of it almost blew me away. I now really do feel like a tiny pea in a giant bowl of… pea soup. So insignificant.

Deep inside though, I’m trying, and hoping to be strong enough to rise against the tides someday. I have one thing which I can hold tight to my chest: my writing. My humble way of conveying thoughts- I wish to make something good out of it, something that will at the very least compel people to think. And now it appears as if I’ve almost forgotten about it. Amidst this so-called busy life of a medical student, ignorance has crept in.

A lot of things happened, but as of this moment, the world is still spinning. So no more excuses to myself, I hope! Nothing quite like writing to disentangle the knots in my head (except perhaps a cup of excellent tea); here’s wishing for better days to every writer out there (that’s about everyone, I guess;)).

Daripada Ali bin Abi Thalib r.a., "Bahawasanya kami sedang duduk bersama Rasulullah saw. di dalam masjid. Tiba-tiba datang Mus'ab bin Umair r.a. dan tiada di atas badannya kecuali hanya sehelai selendang yang bertampung dengan kulit. Tatkala Rasulullah saw.melihat kepadanya Baginda menangis dan menitiskan air mata kerana mengenangkan kemewahan Mus'ab ketika berada di Mekkah dahulu (kerana sangat dimanjakan oleh ibunya) dan kerana memandang nasib Mus'ab sekarang (ketika berada di Madinah sebagai seorang Muhajirin yang terpaksa meninggalkan segala harta benda dan kekayaan diMekkah). Kemudian Nabi Muhammad saw. bersabda, "Bagaimanakah keadaan kamu pada suatu saat nanti, pergi di waktu pagi dengan satu pakaian, dan pergi di waktu petang dengan pakaian yang lain pula. Dan bila diangkatkan satu hidangan diletakan pula satu hidangan yang lain. Dan kamu menutupi (menghias) rumah kamu sepertimana kamu memasang kelambu Ka'bah?". Maka jawab sahabat, "Wahai Rasulullah, tentunya di waktu itu kami lebih baik daripada di hari ini. Kami akan menberikan penumpuan kepada masalah ibadat sahaja dan tidak usah mencari rezeki". Lalu Nabi saw. bersabda, "Tidak! Keadaan kamu di hari ini adalah lebih baik daripada keadaan kamu di hari itu".

H.R. Tarmizi

A sorry post

2008-02-17T22:16:00.005+08:00

Little can soothe these ruffled feathers at the moment; it’s like one of those bad hair days- stuff that won’t literally curse you to eternal doom but enough to make you feel like shaving your head off and start fresh. (Ahem). I’ve been in quite a scuffle with my time management lately, wanting to do this and that, but end up watching a super lousy film in between wasting away several empty DVDs (long story) and dealing with a suspected virus-infested laptop (scans came out clean- but then why is it painstakingly slow and lagging here and there? After I’ve deleted a lot of unused programs too). Starting of the new semester had me reeling with mixed emotions- of relieved farewell to a dreary subject, excitement on a new one, and pure repulsion at the timetable which had us have most of the lectures in the afternoon, in between two classes. It won’t rob me off my naptime; however, I’d prefer to be spared the guilt.

Back to my bulldozed state of mind, even now I can’t help but write junk, teetering away from my original intended piece of writing, which should be, of course, about my recent travel to UK. I will write about it, the soonest I can get after restoring some gravity back to my flailing, sorry self (and closet).

It is still winter in Russia.

ps: Happy 46th birthday to my mother (18th February)! Hope you'd had a wonderful day, one filled with joy and blessings from Allah. And happy belated birthday to my sister Aliah, who turned 17 on 14th February. I love you both.

2008-01-16T17:41:00.002+08:00

One down, two more to go! I’m about to be thrown into the super-zigzag world of Philosophy (my next paper), so I better write something sane here now as proof of my existence. Hehe. (ayat pun dah mengarut dah).

When I started to write in my own blog in April 2004, I didn’t really expect it to last until now. There were the issues of venturing into my personal thoughts, meeting new people, honing my rusty writing skills, fueling creative drive- all of which made me think for quite a long time before starting to blog, almost as long as the time spent to pick up the colour for my very first template ;p Sometimes I may look carefree, but I’m actually at a constant alarm of what people may think of me. So when a few people left comments in my first few entries, I was on cloud nine for a good while. These people encouraged me to keep writing, and so I did.

Some of them seem to have not written in their respective blogs for a while, so to afie, ayumi, crimsonskye, wiTcHh4Z3L, F3154L, inositol- I’m giving you guys my vote of confidence to update your blog! =D And to pycnogenol and hiyoshi too- thank you for the support all this while, if none of you guys read my blog and left positive comments, I would not have been stuck with this blogging business and cause my mum, dad, uncles and aunts to become curious and eventually jump on the bandwagon as well :) Thank you.

Pose berasa manja. 31st December 2005.

Merpati dua sejoli (?) 27th April 2006.

Merajuk dah kawan tu... 27th April 2006.

Exam mode

2008-01-10T04:15:00.001+08:00

Happy New Year 1429 to all Muslims out there. =D

I’m sitting for my finals, starting this Monday. Ain’t winter exams the greatest… haha. Not. I have many other things to contend with- the weather, for example. And my acne. Hehe. And then there’s this little matter of me not being that keen on all the coming exam subjects for different reasons. But I’m trying to cope, so yet again, please, Mak and Abah, no lecturing here.;p Another point worth mentioning- my mind keeps dallying around the thought of my upcoming trip to the UK- not the trip per se, but the puzzling donkeywork prior. We have to return all library books, get some signatures here and there, blabla, more signatures, before we can finally collect our visa. I forget about the details of the procedure every time, but I do remember that it curiously resembles a treasure hunt, with all the scattered checkpoints. So good luck to me this time; I’m lucky to have two days after my final paper before leaving.

About the trip: my sister and I are visiting our icky li’l bro, who is currently studying in Bristol, for 10 days. Hopefully we can also meet up with Aunty Farah, our father’s cousin, who is doing her masters in Cranfield. Anyone else in the UK who wishes to extend their courtesy to us travellers, I thank you in advance.:)

ps: with regards to exams, I'm posting some pics that we managed to take with some of our lecturers last week of the semester i.e. two weeks ago. ;)

Assoc. Prof. Alexei Vladimirovich Smirnov, our Pathological Anatomy lecturer cum favourite lecturer this sem (great teaching, great sense of humour)

Diana Vladimirovna, our Surgery lecturer. I thought female surgeons might be a li'l bit skema (as opposed to male surgeons who mostly have this couldn't-care-less attitude), but well, I guess she's still one of 'em! Haha.

Valentina Andreyevna, our Russian lecturer. Very kay-poh, but lovable.

Twenty-two sounds nice

2008-01-07T19:56:00.001+08:00

Dearest Faezar, happy birthday! Kullu ‘aamin wa anti bikhair, inshaallah…

I knew Faezar at the same time I got to know Azleen. Azleen was the class monitor, she was the assistant. She lived at the end of my road back then, though we didn’t really become friends till I transferred to their class. The earliest sort of acquaintance I remember between us took place one day not long after I entered my new school- I was cycling whilst holding an ice lolly, when it suddenly slipped from my hand and fell onto the road. As I was picking it up, I noticed someone was looking, and saw Faezar sitting by the gate of her house. We exchanged smiles but I had no idea who she was at the time. Hehe. That was the beginning of our friendship, I guess. :)

Throughout the years, she’s been a fantastic friend, and we had a very colourful relationship, perhaps slightly too colourful at times. Hehe. Indeed there were rough patches along the way, but at the end of the day, she is still one of the most wonderful persons I’ve ever met and befriended. You can’t find a better listener, and a friend more loyal than her. Every time I returned home during the hols., she would make time so we could meet- even if she had classes on Saturday, i.e. spending on a less-than-a-day-trip back home. It may not mean a lot to some people, but it does to me.

One thing I truly admire about her is her strong conviction in her actions. And if she had a change of mind, she really meant it. When she first told me that she was switching her course from Medicine to Law, I was very surprised, as was everybody else. Many thought she’d made a mistake, but never once I heard her being in doubt or regretting her decision (but maybe if she hid it from me, I don’t know. Hehe.). Now, seeing her all well and excelling in her studies, I know she made the right choice… And even if she’s to change her mind in the future, she’ll do great nonetheless. Because that's just the kind of person she is. =D

Hope this makes your day. ;)

Dahulu

Sekarang

Winter goodness

2008-01-04T16:50:00.001+08:00

Note: the following accounts were separately written according to the time frame.

Three weeks ago.

Forlorn grey cloaked the sky for the past week; no more rays of evanescent warmth for you sun-lovers. Haha. I’m quite the sadist. Although now I’m actually the one having a jolly hard time contending with the frosty wind that keeps finding their shrewd way into our already-sealed windows. So by right I should be shuddering at this turn of weather and pray hard for spring to come to light. But I’m not, because… well. I love winter. Even if I did fall last week on the icy slope and got a brilliant green bruise on my thigh, or that my fingers were this close to getting frostbite (hyperbole) from dusting snow crumbs off my bag (inside out, too) due to evil works of a classmate (I got him back big time; don’t ever mess with the snow queen. Hoho). Because, because, because… the sight of pure white grounds beneath your feet with sparkling diamonds of frozen canopy above your head on the way to class is simply worth it. It’s like something out of Narnia, as someone puts it; enough to make anyone’s heart spouting poetry (a bad example in my case as you can see).

A fortnight ago.

When snow melts, there goes all the fun. In fact, that’s when trouble beckons. Picture streams, not just puddles, of mud that bar you from crossing the road to get to your hostel, and so you keep walking upward to find a better way out. The trouble is, there is no better way out, and you keep swaggering further and further from your destination until you’ve had it and decide to cross anyway, even though it means drenching the kain of your baju kurung, and yes, it is eid morning. Silver lining? It snows afterwards! And thank God for black baju kurungs =p

Last week.

Too slippery for words. Numerous wobbly moments. (Fall-o-meter: 0. Yay!).

Last night.

Temperature: 20-something degrees below zero. expected to reach 30 during the coming weekend.

Remember Balrog from the mines of Moria in The Lord of The Rings? Remember the dum-dum sounds the Fellowship heard before that fiery ancient demon appeared (did those come from him or the Orcs before that, btw? Argh, must have a rerun again sometime soon.)? Well, the sounds banging against the window of our room at this moment eerily resemble the aforesaid ones. Outside, you can even see violent swirls of wind as they fuse with traces of snowflakes (I saw but a glimpse from the kitchen window, a friend related the more violent ones). Luckily it’s a one-week New Year holiday now, so I don’t have to experience this vicious side of Mother Nature firsthand. But then, being cooped up in the hostel isn’t such a cozy idea either, since our condition here is nowhere near the word cozy, or even acceptable. We’re living in a giant freezer. Imagine me wearing long johns, two woolen jumpers, an over-sized sweater, two pairs of socks, and shivering after half an hour typing on the laptop…(?!!) And they forbid us to buy our own heater because we may whack the circuit dry, which is the case every night because almost everybody secretly owns a heater anyway (not me, though. I’m an Eskimo wannabe). And can anyone blame these people after seeing those feeble, metal thingies they suspiciously call heaters? It’s come to a point where I have to sleep either with my headphones on or by cocooning my entire body inside the blanket because my ears can’t stand the cold. Sad, sad, sad. I already lodged a complaint to our rep so, well, I guess we can only wait. And wait we will, do count on it.

Both pics: Frost on glass. 9th February 2006.

Motifs on the wall of the central market. 8th April 2006.

Impressive facade of a bank, somewhere nearby the academy. 17th July 2006.

Messing around with fallen leaves. 15th November 2005.

Let justice prevail

2007-12-27T00:31:00.001+08:00

This is waaay outdated, but I just paid a visit to my uncle's fotopage, and found this awesome piece of photojournalism. And another awesome piece by another uncle. Being far away from home, I did get my dose of news from Malaysian mainstream media, amongst others. Reminding myself that any form of media were entitled to chunks of bias, it wasn't until a friend who took part in the rally related his version of events that I came close to knowing the whole story. And thanks to these brilliant works too. Like what Acu said, and I quote, Malaysia' political theatre is about to change.

And I pray hard for that.

Kudos, uncles! Hehe.

Bottleneck part of life

2007-12-25T19:29:00.001+08:00

Last week of the semester- I can't believe it's finally here. Caught in the maelstrom of concluding tests as per norm (four to be exact), I should be at about the end of my tether now from nonstop slogging, right? Unfortunately, life's not that simple. Hehe. What am I babbling... Anyway. The talk about town (read: my circle of friends. hence very small town. lol) lately seemed to revolve around that bottleneck part of life: adulthood. It sorta stings to admit that we’ve now reached the status of adults… for my part at least.

Looking back, I did go through the phase of eagerly wanting to grow up and dismissing warnings from certain adults at the time about the burdens of adulthood that came with the freedom, especially when they kept telling us to enjoy our teenage years whilst they lasted. My juvenile thought then- these people had probably forgotten what it was like to be a teenager- the most difficult job in the world. Haha. Not quite, but almost. Now I'm thinking, how selfish and immature I was back then. Yet I wonder: is it simply because of the experience that makes us reconsider our position, or that our thinking process has completely evolved over the years and changed us so? For whenever I was misunderstood as a teenager, my first thought would be- why couldn't they understand? Weren’t they teenagers once? On the other hand, I've found myself starting to laugh off some of my younger sister's thoughts and complaints as 'those angst-y moments'; she probably thinks I'm sounding more and more like a mak cik too (hopefully not).

I actually fear that- the thought that I might forget what it's really like to be a teenager. I'd like to think that I've only become more mature and wiser as I grow older, but it's just a whole different system of thoughts really, between teenagers and adults. Experience does warrant for some of an adult’s altered outlooks, which may be better, but at times it comes down to the fact that we interpret things with different eyes, both of which may be right and sound in their own respect. And appreciating both entities of cognition will help adults to identify with younger generation better and develop mutual understanding between the two. Teenagers can't possibly stand in adults' shoes as they've never been one themselves, thus I hope not to forget the essence of my teenage years- so I can probably fill in some blanks during any run-in with my younger contemporaries in the future.

I realise I'm sounding rather cryptic and probably not making a lot of sense to most people. And further, I'm only 21. I may be allowed to vote, but adulthood calls for more than casting a ballot, or making lists of groceries to buy. I constantly worry about everything there is, yet I make silly mistakes all the time. When I finally thought I might have figured things out, something outrageous would come up to wash any notions away. I’ve a long way to go. And a belated birthday card a few days ago with the words “Welcome to adulthood love!” added considerably to the pressure. Haha. Thank you for the vote of confidence, but for now, and I suspect a good more while to come, I’m still a teenager.

On another unrelated matter- since I won’t have a camera for at least the next seven months or so, I’m going to post old, never-before-published pictures. Hehe. Just to kill some time browsing through my folders, as I’ve got nothing better to do other than studying for the aforesaid tests (Mak and Abah, please don’t kill me for saying this). =)

The closest thing to a surau we could get in the academy. 8th December 2005.

Farah waiting for prayer time. 8th December 2005.

23rd October 2005. These days she could practically hide the laptop underneath her furry body.

What could be so funny about Latin, eh? 17th March 2006.

At Mamayev Kurgan; Mother Russia in far background (I forgot the name of the other statue). 26th May 2006.

To be continued... :)

Hari Arafah

2007-12-18T18:04:00.001+08:00

KEUTAMAAN 10 HARI PERTAMA BULAN DZULHIJJAH DAN AMALAN YANG DISYARIATKAN

Oleh
Syaikh Abdullah bin Abdurrahman Al-Jibrin

Segala puji bagi Allah semata, shalawat dan salam semoga tercurah kepada Rasulullah, Nabi kita Muhammad, kepada keluarga dan segenap sahabatnya.

KEUTAMAAN 10 HARI YANG PERTAMA BULAN DZULHIJJAH.

Diriwayatkan oleh Al-Bukhari, Rahimahullah, dari Ibnu 'Abbas Radhiyallahu 'Anhuma bahwa Nabi Shallallahu 'alaihi wa sallam bersabda :

"Artinya : Tidak ada hari dimana amal shalih pada saat itu lebih dicintai oleh Allah daripada hari-hari ini, yaitu : Sepuluh hari dari bulan DzulHijjah. Mereka bertanya : Ya Rasulullah, tidak juga jihad fi sabilillah ?. Beliau menjawab : Tidak juga jihad fi sabilillah, kecuali orang yang keluar (berjihad) dengan jiwa dan hartanya, kemudian tidak kembali dengan sesuatu apapun".

Imam Ahmad, Rahimahullah, meriwayatkan dari Umar Radhiyallahu 'Anhuma, bahwa Nabi Shallallahu 'alaihi wa sallam bersabda :

"Artinya : Tidak ada hari yang paling agung dan amat dicintai Allah untuk berbuat kebajikan di dalamnya daripada sepuluh hari (DzulHijjah) ini. Maka perbanyaklah pada saat itu tahlil, takbir dan tahmid ".

MACAM-MACAM AMALAN YANG DISYARIATKAN

[1]. Melaksanakan Ibadah Haji Dan Umrah

Amal ini adalah amal yang paling utama, berdasarkan berbagai hadits shahih yang menunjukkan keutamaannya, antara lain : sabda Nabi shallallahu 'alaihi wa sallam:

"Artinya : Dari umrah ke umrah adalah tebusan (dosa-dosa yang dikerjakan) di antara keduanya, dan haji yang mabrur balasannya tiada lain adalah Surga".

[2]. Berpuasa Selama Hari-Hari Tersebut, Atau Pada Sebagiannya, Terutama Pada Hari Arafah.

Tidak disangsikan lagi bahwa puasa adalah jenis amalan yang paling utama, dan yang dipilih Allah untuk diri-Nya. Disebutkan dalam hadist Qudsi :

"Artinya : Puasa ini adalah untuk-Ku, dan Aku lah yang akan membalasnya. Sungguh dia telah meninggalkan syahwat, makanan dan minumannya semata-mata karena Aku".

Diriwayatkan dari Abu Said Al-Khudri, Radhiyallahu 'Anhu, Rasulullah Shallallahu 'alaihi wa sallam bersabda :

"Artinya : Tidaklah seorang hamba berpuasa sehari di jalan Allah melainkan Allah pasti menjauhkan dirinya dengan puasanya itu dari api neraka selama tujuh puluh tahun". [Hadits Muttafaq 'Alaih].

Diriwayatkan oleh Imam Muslim dari Abu Qatadah Rahimahullah bahwa Nabi shallallahu 'alaihi wa sallam bersabda :

"Artinya : Berpuasa pada hari Arafah karena mengharap pahala dari Allah melebur dosa-dosa setahun sebelum dan sesudahnya".

[3]. Takbir Dan Dzikir Pada Hari-Hari Tersebut.

Sebagaimana firman Allah Ta'ala.

"Artinya : .... dan supaya mereka menyebut nama Allah pada hari-hari yang telah ditentukan ..". [Al-Hajj : 28].

Para ahli tafsir menafsirkannya dengan sepuluh hari dari bulan Dzul Hijjah. Karena itu, para ulama menganjurkan untuk memperbanyak dzikir pada hari-hari tersebut, berdasarkan hadits dari Ibnu Umar Radhiyallahu 'Anhuma.

"Artinya : Maka perbanyaklah pada hari-hari itu tahlil, takbir dan tahmid ". [Hadits Riwayat Ahmad].

Imam Bukhari Rahimahullah menuturkan bahwa Ibnu Umar dan Abu Hurairah Radhiyallahu 'Anhum keluar ke pasar pada sepuluh hari tersebut seraya mengumandangkan takbir lalu orang-orangpun mengikuti takbirnya. Dan Ishaq, Rahimahullah, meriwayatkan dari fuqaha', tabiin bahwa pada hari-hari ini mengucapkan :

"Allahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar, Laa Ilaha Ilallah, wa-Allahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar wa Lillahil Hamdu"

"Artinya : Allah Maha Besar, Allah Maha Besar, Tidak ada Ilah (Sembahan) Yang Haq selain Allah. Dan Allah Maha Besar, Allah Maha Besar, segala puji hanya bagi Allah".

Dianjurkan untuk mengeraskan suara dalam bertakbir ketika berada di pasar, rumah, jalan, masjid dan lain-lainnya. Sebagaimana firman Allah.

"Artinya : Dan hendaklah kamu mengagungkan Allah atas petunjuk-Nya yang diberikan kepadamu ..". [Al-Baqarah : 185].

Dan diperbolehkan berdzikir dengan yang mudah-mudah. Seperti : takbir, tasbih dan do'a-do'a lainnya yang disyariatkan.

[4]. Taubat Serta Meninggalkan Segala Maksiat Dan Dosa.

Sehingga akan mendapatkan ampunan dan rahmat. Maksiat adalah penyebab terjauhkan dan terusirnya hamba dari Allah, dan keta'atan adalah penyebab dekat dan cinta kasih Allah kepadanya.

Disebutkan dalam hadits dari Abu Hurairah Radhiyallahu 'Anhu, bahwasanya Nabi shallallahu 'alaihi wa sallam bersabda.

"Artinya : Sesungguhnya Allah itu cemburu, dan kecemburuan Allah itu manakala seorang hamba melakukan apa yang diharamkan Allah terhadapnya" [Hadits Muttafaq 'Alaihi].

[5]. Banyak Beramal Shalih.

Berupa ibadah sunat seperti : shalat, sedekah, jihad, membaca Al-Qur'an, amar ma'ruf nahi munkar dan lain sebagainya. Sebab amalan-amalan tersebut pada hari itu dilipat gandakan pahalanya. Bahkan amal ibadah yang tidak utama bila dilakukan pada hari itu akan menjadi lebih utama dan dicintai Allah daripada amal ibadah pada hari lainnya meskipun merupakan amal ibadah yang utama, sekalipun jihad yang merupakan amal ibadah yang amat utama, kecuali jihad orang yang tidak kembali dengan harta dan jiwanya.

[6]. Disyariatkan Pada Hari-Hari Itu Takbir Muthlaq

Yaitu pada setiap saat, siang ataupun malam sampai shalat Ied. Dan disyariatkan pula takbir muqayyad, yaitu yang dilakukan setiap selesai shalat fardhu yang dilaksanakan dengan berjama'ah ; bagi selain jama'ah haji dimulai dari sejak Zhuhur hari raya Qurban terus berlangsung hingga shalat Ashar pada hari Tasyriq.

[7]. Berkurban Pada Hari Raya Qurban Dan Hari-Hari Tasyriq.

Hal ini adalah sunnah Nabi Ibrahim 'Alaihissalam, yakni ketika Allah Ta'ala menebus putranya dengan sembelihan yang agung. Diriwayatkan bahwa Nabi shallallahu 'alaihi wa sallam.

"Artinya : Berkurban dengan menyembelih dua ekor domba jantan berwarna putih dan bertanduk. Beliau sendiri yang menyembelihnya dengan menyebut nama Allah dan bertakbir, serta meletakkan kaki beliau di sisi tubuh domba itu". [Muttafaq 'Alaihi]

[8]. Dilarang Mencabut atau Memotong Rambut dan Kuku bagi orang yang hendak Berkurban.

Diriwayatkan oleh Muslim dan lainnya, dari Ummu Salamah Radhiyallhu 'Anha bahwa Nabi shallallahu 'alaihi wa sallam bersabda.

"Artinya : Jika kamu melihat hilal bulan Dzul Hijjah dan salah seorang di antara kamu ingin berkurban, maka hendaklah ia menahan diri dari (memotong) rambut dan kukunya".

Dalam riwayat lain : "Maka janganlah ia mengambil sesuatu dari rambut atau kukunya sehingga ia berkurban".

Hal ini, mungkin, untuk menyerupai orang yang menunaikan ibadah haji yang menuntun hewan kurbannya. Firman Allah.

"Artinya : ..... dan jangan kamu mencukur (rambut) kepalamu, sebelum kurban sampai di tempat penyembelihan...". [Al-Baqarah : 196].

Larangan ini, menurut zhahirnya, hanya dikhususkan bagi orang yang berkurban saja, tidak termasuk istri dan anak-anaknya, kecuali jika masing-masing dari mereka berkurban. Dan diperbolehkan membasahi rambut serta menggosoknya, meskipun terdapat beberapa rambutnya yang rontok.

[9]. Melaksanakan Shalat Iedul Adha Dan Mendengarkan Khutbahnya.

Setiap muslim hendaknya memahami hikmah disyariatkannya hari raya ini. Hari ini adalah hari bersyukur dan beramal kebajikan. Maka janganlah dijadikan sebagai hari keangkuhan dan kesombongan ; janganlah dijadikan kesempatan bermaksiat dan bergelimang dalam kemungkaran seperti ; nyanyi-nyanyian, main judi, mabuk-mabukan dan sejenisnya. Hal mana akan menyebabkan terhapusnya amal kebajikan yang dilakukan selama sepuluh hari.

[10]. Selain Hal-Hal Yang Telah Disebutkan Diatas.

Hendaknya setiap muslim dan muslimah mengisi hari-hari ini dengan melakukan ketaatan, dzikir dan syukur kepada Allah, melaksanakan segala kewajiban dan menjauhi segala larangan ; memanfaatkan kesempatan ini dan berusaha memperoleh kemurahan Allah agar mendapat ridha-Nya.

Semoga Allah melimpahkan taufik-Nya dan menunjuki kita kepada jalan yang lurus. Dan shalawat serta salam semoga tetap tercurah kepada Nabi Muhammad, kepada keluarga dan para sahabatnya.

Selamat Hari Raya Eid-ul Adha to all Muslims... may our deeds be accepted and we are placed amongst the believers, inshaallah. :)

Total randomness

2007-11-19T23:25:00.001+08:00

It seems ages since I actually did some writing that I feel rather weird doing so now. Words constantly failed me- too much kuih raya corroding my creativity. Most heartfelt thanks to my parents who sent me and my sister the now-traditional raya parcel. =D The kuihs are almost finished, by the way, Mocha Nestume being the most popular. Even the separa-hancur pineapple tarts were swiftly done with. Never contend the appetites of good-food-deprived students, I say.

As de rigueur, at least one paragraph would be reserved for snippets of my wistful thoughts embodying the keener nuance of my evolving self- otherwise known as blubbering. And today, after quietly reflecting over a cup of Earl Grey, the whole brouhaha in my conscience boiled down to one disturbing fact: my Russian’s dreadful. And to think that I’ll be sitting for Russian exam at the end of the semester. Woo-hoo. It’s hitting me quite hard, now that I’ve just started to care about its, well, pathetic state, because in truth I really like learning languages. It’s kind of my forte (besides tripping, falling, and other forms of self-humiliation). But Russian…

It’s a difficult language, Russian. Personally, in terms of complexity, I think it rivals Arabic for the various rules and cases. Still, if only I had worked harder, I could be having that desired conversation with the taxi driver back in first year now (even though, after 2 years of adapting, I’ve learned the value of money and avoid taxis as much as I could. LOL). Yeah, we had had some bad luck with our teacher being sick for a long time during first year, hampering our classes (subs teachers didn’t seem too interested in our progress). And yeah, we had had a new teacher for our second year who didn’t speak a word of English (except perhaps, “Now, listen to me”) and was a little, uh, disagreeable, making learning extra difficult, and halfway through a lot of us had become disinterested.

But. These are excuses, the allegory of my weak alter ego. If I had really wanted to, I could have put more effort to it. Practice the language; speak up. But I’m a person who is scared of making mistakes- scared of making a botch of the grammar, sentence structure and whatnots, thus ended up not speaking at all. Silly, wishy-washy wimp, you could say that. Honestly, I can't imagine myself speaking fluent Russian by the end of my studies here. The best I could hope for is probably successful bargaining with Mak ciks at the market ;p

Another wistful thought: after two years, I think it's safe to finally conclude that I actually like it here. Ok, I admit that half of the verdict (perhaps more) is due to my ridiculously optimistic, er, optimism, which tries to perceive everything coming my way as a life-shaping experience. Yes, I whine, I cry, I kick (only the door of my closet, don't worry ;p), and I do say I'm depressed a lot, but at the end of the day, I would come to realise that my state is actually much better than a lot others- even the people around me. Even the scum who stole my kolbasa (giant meat sausage <-- dunno how else to describe it! haha), mascarpone cheese, ginger, and spaghetti sauce a few days ago failed to irk me that much, compared to the others (massive 'robbery' occurred in our floor). Sometimes I do wonder why at times I sound rather angry when in truth I am not, not really. Just that there are times when I feel like there's a sudden rush of emotions running through my veins and things would just happen- things that I would regret only a second after.

I'm starting to sound like someone suffering from bipolar disorder. In conclusion, yeah, it's pretty nice to be living here, in a foreign land, learning more about what life can offer. Heck, I can even tolerate eating salads now. I kind of like them even (although they're more of a “so bad it’s good” variety. LOL).

I noticed a change in me that surprised me a bit though, one that I'm not sure is for the better or worse. Perhaps I've mentioned this before in an entry- the fact that I've taken a quieter front around people in the community. Friends not close to me may find me rather aloof and unfriendly (or shy, if they're being nice ;p), but those who are close to me, I think I'm really easy to figure out. Eh? =D In spite of it, I don't feel bad for the change, although i do wonder, where has the old me gone...

Final thought: Are Malays really hard to identify? I mean, I can understand being mistaken for an Indonesian or a Singaporean, or even a Filipino, but you won't believe the variety of races/nationalities I've been 'accused' of being for the past two years. Let's see... Vietnamese, Indian, American, Korean, Afghan, Iranian... even Brazilian. It's amusing. The peculiar thing is, most of the people would not straightly ask our origin- instead they find the fun in guessing, albeit a little unwittingly. All in all, it's good to encounter these people anytime, rather than the ones who would suddenly jump on you, babbling in angry Russian for reasons you would never comprehend.

Today's entry is really random, eh? I guess it's the post-withdrawal effect. haha. I'm calling it a day now- had a very bad case of food poisoning last night which continued right till today afternoon. Even now, my stomach is constantly making this rumbling motorcycle noise. Vrooom.

Raya pics

2007-10-24T00:12:00.002+08:00

Last Sunday, we had our annual Raya celebration at the hostel. As I'm having yet another camera-less year, all these pics were borrowed. No pics of the food though, I guess everybody was too hungry to care. And rightly so, because the spread was glorious- the succulent savour of the rendang kambing is still lingering in my tastebuds...

3rd year Muslim students (most of)

3rd year students + a couple of, uh, wandering seniors.

I miss lemang ;(

Performance by the freshmen

With Farah

With Fatin

Models of my baju kurung collection. Hehe.

New kid on the 20s block

2007-10-17T00:08:00.001+08:00

To my dearest friend Azleen, a very happy birthday to you ;)

I first met Azleen when we were in standard five- I was the new kid in school, she was class-next-door's monitor. No, I wasn't being picked on and she the only one willing to befriend me- the story didn't go like that. ;p Anyway, I was transferred to her class halfway into the year but we didn't get really close until standard six, especially during the World Cup, when it appeared that the two us were about the only football fans in class. The bond persevered when we entered the same secondary school and became classmates for the entire five years of laughters, tears, sweats, and silliness.

Now I'm in Russia, she's in Australia. I'm studying to become a doctor, she an engineer. I was a Scout, she was a Red Crescent member. I joined Karate club, she was in Taekwondo. I was a prefect, she was a librarian (at some point).

We are very different, yet alike. We are writers. Debaters. Book lovers. Sports enthusiasts. Most importantly, we share the same values and ideals. And yeah, I still wanna travel around the world one day! You? ;)

Sorry aa, saya tak update koleksi gambar lama. ;p

ps: Whoops, I seem to be a li'l late. The birthday's on 16th October. =)

A loving tribute

2007-10-13T23:28:00.002+08:00

I went back alone after class this afternoon and had quite a time skipping around puddles of stretched memory, as I marched up the lone hill in my cruddy sneakers and purple baju kurung, getting thrown a few rude stares by jakun Russians as I went. But I’m immune to it already, so go ahead. Stare. Haha. Ok, maybe not. This is the main reason why I prefer not to wear baju kurung to classes- the inevitable prospect of being appraised with all likelihood of a murder suspect, or if you prefer, an alien with tentacles.

But that’s not the crux of my story. So I was recollecting voices from the past, being a touch nostalgic, when I sort of realised how fortunate I was to be who I was, where I was, doing what I was doing. How fortunate even, for the fact that I had been able to discern the fact itself, the fact that Allah had granted me enough conscience to really think, and see. To make mistakes and realise them. For the incomparable blessings of faith and knowledge, and awareness.

More than mere will power and self-resolution though, I attributed all the push I got into building my character and way of life to my parents, the two important persons without whom I, beyond question, wouldn’t be the person I am today. They were not the most pampering kind of parents (in fact, the very opposite), nor were they, being doctors, always available, but, relatively speaking, I couldn’t imagine any child being taken care of every detail of their upbringing better than my father and mother did. This may sound like typical every child’s my-parents-are-the-best bragging (and to some extent, yeah, it is), but I truly feel thankful to be blessed with parents like mine, all prejudices shoved aside.

My mother was the more assertive- she paid great attention to our academic progress and was constantly breathing down our necks about finishing homework and stuff. My father would at times be dragged into the picture as well (checking homework, tutoring on difficult questions) and frequently played the role of our saviour against the ‘wrath’ of mum. From my mother I developed love for English readings, from my father Malay readings which centred on stories of the prophets and believers.

The reason I am most thankful for my parents, though, is their determination to educate us with the righteous way of Islamic life, although I was too young to realise the huge significance of all this back then. We started learning the Quran very early and my parents made sure we had a Quran teacher even after we had finished our recitation and tajwid lessons (I continued having classes until right before entering college). They sent me, my younger brothers and sister to a private religious primary school, against my grandmother’s approval, until I reached standard 5, when we were transferred to a government school because they wanted us to get the chance to enter prestigious secondary boarding schools. During holidays, we would be enrolled in Islamic programs/camps, and I still remember having disliked many of them for several reasons (recently I had a talk with my dad about those stuff he made us attend back then, and the unseen necessity of it all). We were encouraged to perform sunat deeds, especially fasting 6 days in Syawal, and were given rewards for our success (my request would always be books, books, and books).

To quote everything my parents did for us would be tedious work, and no amount of gratitude could be expressed in writing for their boundless love and efforts. They were indeed busy people (the number of times and people I had to tumpang balik sekolah! And collect my report books!), but we never once felt ‘terabai’ (yes, we do get this from people. My sister gets very annoyed. Haha)- far from it. My father would gather us to perform solat jamaah whenever time permitted and we would have usrah afterwards. And my mother memorised all of my friends’ names and faces, up to recognising many of them on the streets. So how could we feel neglected... overprotected would seem like a better accusation. Heh.

That being said, I still am a young, struggling person with many, many faults and undesirable qualities, but that is due to my own weaknesses, influenced by the corrupted world and lures of inner demons I am still straining to fight. My parents, on their part, had given me the foundation I needed in getting to know my own religion, to cherish it, and not taking it for granted. There are loving parents everywhere, but my parents did more than passively love- they made us see our purpose in life, forced us to seek the truth at the time when all we cared about were good food and entertainment.

This is actually a late tribute to my parents’ 23th wedding anniversary on 9th September. I sent an email to my mum, wishing them, but she didn’t receive it, so this is sort of a belated wish. We did not forget, as you had implied. ;) I wrote this back then, but haven't published it till now. Happy anniversary, Mak and Abah..

Also, Selamat Hari Raya to my family and dear readers, maaf zahir dan batin. We celebrated 1st of Syawal on Friday and alhamdulillah, I managed to perform eid prayer at the mosque. Our traditional breakfast was brilliant- we had nasi tomato, ayam masak merah, rendang ayam, ayam masak lemak, acar, lontong, nasi himpit, kuah kacang, kek batik, and puddings.

Esok ada jemputan rumah terbuka lagi. Thank you, people!

Mid-autumn: nearby our university.

Iftar gathering for Malaysian students last Saturday: My sister with her friends.

1st Syawal: with Farah, Sakinah, and Anis.

A snap with our Microbiology teacher.

Sany's open house

Perut-perut kenyang.

ps: pictures courtesy of Fatin.

Cuaca dah mula sejuk...

2007-10-05T02:48:00.001+08:00

I have been tagged by Uncle P5. So, being the obedient niece I am, here goes... (note that everything stated below are subject to rapid change)

5 menda dalam beg galas aku...
1. Buku rujukan, buku tulis, dan semua yang berkaitan dengan pelajaran (itu pun masih selalu tertinggal ini la, itu la.)
2. 'Lab coat', atau orang di sini panggil 'white gown'. Sangat berkedut-kedut.
3. Bekas pensel- penyumbang 25% daripada berat beg, sebab saya sumbat segala macam keperluan ke dalamnya.
4. Cermin mata- khas untuk penggunaan semasa kuliah (kalau tak tertidur).
5. Novel 'Great Expectations' oleh Charles Dickens, one of my favourite authors. Recommended by dad.

5 menda dalam dompet aku...
1. Duit dan resit (nisbah 1:3. Hahaha).
2. Kad ATM, kad ahli Krasniy Kub, kad ISIC, Kad diskaun travel ke Europe, Kad kumpulan darah, dan sebagainya.
3. Koleksi gambar pasport keluarga, kawan-kawan, dan haiwan peliharaan.
4. 5 butir (?) kekunci yang terpelanting dari papan kekunci laptop saya tempoh hari (termasuk kekunci 'delete'! Tsk).
5. Sim card MTS yang direject bulat-bulat oleh handphone saya yang sedang sakit (Nak rawat dan handphone ni masih under warranty, tapi dah puas cari, tak jumpa-jumpa cebisan kertas keramat tersebut).

5 menda feveret dalam bilik tido...
1. Sekarang cuaca sudah mula sejuk, maka- selimut!
2. Laptop
3. Quran dan tafseer
4. Dinding (sesiapa yang selalu lawat bilik saya akan faham) dan cermin (cermin bilik baru ni macam tipu sikit- semua orang nampak lebih kurus. I like! Haha).
5. Rak buku dan CD (tapi selalu terfikir bagaimana nak angkut balik semua ni bila dah tamat belajar nanti).

5 menda aku wish nak buat...
1. Beli sebuah televisyen. Hehe.
2. Berbasikal ke kelas.
3. Tonton perlawanan Roger Federer-Pete Sampras dan Rafael Nadal-Richard Gasquet di Kuala Lumpur bulan depan.
4. Ponteng lectures Patho. Anatomy
5. Tangkap gambar musim luruh (takde camera!!! nangis!).

5 menda aku buat skarang...
1. Check emails
2. Download manga
3. Hafal puisi 'Ya Vas Lyubil' (I Loved You Once) untuk test kelas Russian esok (tapi dah extend kepada kajian tentang kehidupan Pushkin pula. The wonders of technology).
4. Menggigil (tapi malas capai stokin; selimut masih terlipat kemas, macam sayang pula nak guna. Haha).
5. Makan waffle berintikan strawberi.

5 orang kroni yang patut kena tag sekali...
Minta maaf, saya tak ada kroni. Haa.

And below is the aforementioned poem (and translation) for tomorrow's test- simply sharing the pain. ;p (No offence, I like the poem).

Я вас любил: любовь еще, быть может
В душе моей угасла не совсем;
Но пусть она вас больше не тревожит;
Я не хочу печалить вас ничем.
Я вас любил безмолвно, безнадежно,
То робостью, то ревностью томим;
Я вас любил так искренно, так нежно,
Как дай вам бог любимой быть другим.

I loved you once: perhaps that love has yet
To die down thoroughly within my soul;
But let it not dismay you any longer;
I have no wish to cause you any sorrow.
I loved you wordlessly, without a hope,
By shyness tortured, or by jealousy.
I loved you with such tenderness and candor
And pray God grants you to be loved that way again.

And then there were two

2007-10-02T21:47:00.001+08:00

My brother Muhammad has jetted off to Bristol last Saturday. Good luck in adapting, badut, and make us all proud!

Aliah and Luqman, mesti korang bosan kitorang takde, kan? Ngehehe.

Abah and mak, we miss Ramadhan at home =(

ps: pictures courtesy of my dad.

Happy birthday Maman!

2007-09-25T23:14:00.001+08:00

This past week has been personified by strings of personal problems and poor focus. I need to get my aura back. Hehe. My comfort words these days are not to sweat the small stuff, and that every cloud has a silver lining. Yeah. ~~Except in Russia.~~

Today is my youngest brother Luqman's 14th birthday. Happy birthday! It's funny, the more he grew up, the more I thought of him as my baby brother. Or I'm the one who's getting very old... Either way, he is my baby bro. A very big one. Hehehe.

I'm camera-less again this year (yes, it's outrageous), because apparently spare-parts for Olympus were hard to get in Malaysia. I am so going to save money for a fabulous DSLR. Yup. *seraya mengangkat kening*

These sluggish one-liner strings of words are getting ratherish crummy. Yeah? And I'm now depressed after learning that this November Roger Federer is going to engage in an exhibition match with Pete Sampras... in Kuala Lumpur!!! Gggggrrrr... why must they do this to me (Yes, Pa, your Nadal's gonna be there, too!). I shall go search for that silver lining now.

Oh wait. It's almost midnight.

Can I look at the moon instead?

Selamat menyambut Ramadhan

2007-09-13T22:48:00.002+08:00

Time is such a marvel. For it seems like bashing my foot into the bedroom door till my toenail almost came out took place only last week, driving my grandfather all the way to Gemencheh to visit my sister a bordering distance beforehand. And I can still relish the out-of-this-world dishes at two of my absolute favourite places to have lunch- my grandfather’s place and the restaurant by the riverside, both serving very ‘kampung’ food, which is my stomach’s definition of heavenly.

The unclad truth is, I’m in Russia, eating disagreeable junks (some of which I cook, so I’m partly to blame), having just moved yet again from the testosterone-laden floor (they made excellent floor mates by the way, except for their gender. Haha. Very nice, very polite.) to a girls’ floor just down the corner four days ago. I’m coping. Uh-huh.

Talking on a more general scope, I’m 21 according to the Gregorian calendar; 22 according to the Hijrian. That in itself is a marvel. Not so because I have managed to grow up to this age, becoming an adult, but for the nagging fact that I have managed to reach this minor milestone of existence feeling as wonderfully confused and moony as I had seven years back. God-willed, I did grow up a bit but being 21 now isn’t what I originally thought it would be like.

Now that Ramadhan has breathed its light once more, it gives me a lot of space to mull over my arid ocean of thoughts. The effort for the better, and the contented feeling at the end of it that I did become better. Yet when next year comes, I feel like I’m back at the beginning of it all again, quite lost and vulnerable. And I had tried to comfort my little heckler of a conscience by deeming it as normal, something that everybody should only feel. The more I try to shake it off though, the more it bugs me. When you don’t feel contented, you don’t. That’s that.

I wish to embrace timeless progress, not merely being a seasonal labourer repeating the same arduous cycle at forever's end. Man, the battle with an-nafs really is exhausting.

However ‘seasonal’ I should feel like though, having Ramadhan is always a blessing- the greatest blessing of time and space to reform, to grow. If we should choose but one time to go all-out in our endeavours, let it be this beautiful month, where every little deed is rewarded in manifolds, and the door to al-maghfirah is never closed. Let’s all work towards a fruitful Ramadhan, inshaallah.

"And in truth We have made the Qur'an easy to remember; but is there any that remembereth?" -Al-Qamar: 17

Taking the meaning literally, my hafazan of the Quran needs a major lot of checking up and progress. I've been stagnant for a great while. *sigh*

Wake me up when September ends

2007-09-04T04:03:00.001+08:00

I've been considerably chided by a couple of friends for the lack of words on my blog during the holiday, and decently so. How should I say this, eh- to put it in straightforward Latin- I'd got my caput inter nubile. *guffaws* And instead of carpe diem, my motto throughout the two glorious months would more aptly be carpe noctem. So in between all those unfettered busying, I'm afraid there wasn't much left for creative writing, unless I was J.K. Rowling and wouldn't give a hoot about saving up for another year of bland food and incomprehensible entertainment whilst indulging in the glorious sea of ink and quills (or keyboards, more like). For those who couldn't fathom my encrypted language, give it up. I'm blubbering. And why shouldn't I be, when I have been coolly tossed out of my room for two years into a floor full of 'testosterone-laden creatures', as my mother put it (hehe gonna reply your email very soon). I made my case to the guy-in-charge at the dean's office this afternoon who forced me to put across everything in Russian even though he understood English perfectly (probably so that I couldn't babble my heart out, very smart move), before telling me not to worry cos this whole jamboree of an affair was only temporary and would be sorted out very soon. Then he shoo-ed me before I could press further for specifics. Anyhow, it was a relief to know that I won't have to play seesaw with the male-free floor above for shower and other, er, stuff for the entire academic year. Although I'm nauseated at the prospect of packing up yet again for another move if necessary (I'm not exactly the most organised person alive, see). It isn't very helpful either that I've started my classes and the teachers so far have successfully foreshadowed a semester of everlasting fire for us small fries. Yet still, I (unintentionally) slept throughout a third of our first ever lecture today, despite my solemn vow to copy everything this time around. Well, well.

Despite my one-paragraph-madwoman yackety-yak above, I'm still sane, thank goodness. Quite a few words now, wouldn't you say, (ex)Roomie A? =D

A couple of random pictures in the CD my father made me (most pictures were in an unfamiliar format, dunno why. Abah??)

My beloved friend, Faezar and I at my grandfather's kenduri. She said the only times she eat mutton curry would be at our kenduris. Haha.

My sisters, aunt, and I. We were having breakfast at my grandfather's before heading off to Kuala Tembeling and Fraser's Hill. For further news on the latter, please ask my mum and dad.

Nabihah and Erfa, two of my dearest friends during a meeting at KLCC a day before my flight.

With Aki, the day I left for KL.

Time to say goodbye

2007-08-24T00:41:00.002+08:00

The happiest seven weeks of the year are coming to an end, during which I chose to be the laziest writer and the keenest lazybum around. Which has been all good, except for the fact that my brain is now quarterly frozen and not particularly ideal for learning data storage, which shall begin processing in nine days. As always, I finally decided to write on the eve of my travel (leaving for KL tomorrow), when I should really be packing up every little junk littering the floor of my room. Panicking can be addictive.

There are so many things planned yet undone, but I can't say that I haven't enjoyed my holiday- immensely. Still, I wish I could be more organised. And frugal. And finish my travelogue. =p

It's a very mixed feeling I'm having- sadness, with a tinge of excitement (of going into my third year of studies) and dithers (switching from honeymoon semester to a hellish one isn't going to be a cinch). But mostly sadness. And a little surprisingly, the bad vibes this time are worse than last year- time really does fly, and getting faster.

A few days ago, after passing through my former school, this familiar feeling surged all over.

Goodbye, au revoir!

Hong Kong: People

2007-08-06T10:40:00.001+08:00

Alright, so the collage is more about wax figures at Madame Tussauds than live, animate people on the street. That's me being bitter. I wish I could go the extra length to photograph everything I set my heart on, not bounded by disproportionate qualms and reservation.

If there was one thing about Hong Kong that stood head and shoulders apart from the rest, it was the dynamism of the people. Everywhere you turned to, everybody was just actively on the go; business took place at the flick of a finger and trust me, you wouldn't feel scared of getting lost and having nowhere or no one to turn to- help was everywhere around you. The acts of hospitality and great competency were especially demonstrated to us at the airport, which had now become my favourite airport in the world (not that I've been to many. haha). Those guys were fast, professional and always ready to lend a hand, unlike so many officers I’d had the displeasure of encountering here and in other places.

I think I could turn people sick with another word of adoration ;p There was a snag to the delightful candy bag of a trip, sure. There always were. In fact, there were a few snags- not least was the expensive cost of expenditure, which could certainly be managed with careful and sensible planning. It would be most inconvenient, however, if you miscalculated the conversion rate of your currencies and discovered the truth only after you had finished all your last-minute shopping, which we so gullibly did. Haha. The horrors of realising you actually spent a third more than you thought you did…

Hong Kong: Towering Facade

2007-08-03T09:07:00.001+08:00

In all simplicity, Hong Kong was the exact opposite of Istanbul. Cloud-busting skyscrapers, blinding neon lights, whooshing pedestrians on zigzagging streets... the faces of the two cities couldn't be more different. Yet they shared one common point of gravity- both were breathtakingly beautiful, in very contrasting fashions. And I was one happy traveler.

ps: All pictures were taken late evening, save the panorama in the middle- it was afternoon, after a heavy downpour.
pps: Pardon my lazy writing.

Water droplet of a thought

2007-07-14T09:39:00.001+08:00

I have been lazy, as lazy as a blogger can get. Strings of words and images keep bobbing up in my head- about my unconcluded trip to Turkey, my short but memorable stay in Hong Kong, summary of yet another year of trying to build a nest in a foreign and uncompromising habitat... there is so much to write about. But I'm beat, mentally speaking. I'd rather be checking out on Tempang now, despite me being allergic, and at the same time looking out for the mafia cat who might be skulking around shamelessly, stealing Tempang's food, or worse, picking up unmanly fights with him or poor Nahar. Soaking him wet with hard water spray has been my perpetual fixation of late. You may think I'm way too evil to a cat, but wait till you meet Mafia. He brings evil cats to a whole new level.

Until my brain decides to function again...

Kismet and me

2007-07-01T20:57:00.001+08:00

Some kind of a too-technical-to-digest warning suddenly appeared on my laptop screen yesterday which could only spell t-r-o-u-b-l-e. True enough, as I restarted the whole thing, all my settings were reset- histories erased, folders missing, diddly Dell wallpaper took over (ok, a bit trivial, but it reappeared each time I switched on the laptop! Grr)... my heart nearly dropped at the thought of losing all my important documents. Eventually, I managed to retrace all my files, but I had no idea how to fix this unheralded mess. The laptop greeted me as if I was a new, foreign user. Sob. Luckily, I'm going home soon (tomorrow my journey starts) and I have the utmost confidence in my father to 'doctor' the whole caboodle. Right, Abah? Hehe.

Almost everyone in my floor has gone back home, including my roommates. Deafening silence gripped the air. Not fun.

Exam Schmexam

2007-06-25T16:07:00.001+08:00

"It’s just a state of mind."

That’s my roomie’s catchy phrase to nix my never-ending melodramatic pool of thoughts. With final paper three days away, trip to Hong Kong seven days away, and touching foot on home soil eleven days away, can anyone possibly blame my spazzed-out sapience? I really am away with the mixer lately, my head spouting stuff of bubblegum pop songs and blah poetry, whilst leaving tiny room for some medical knowledge in between.

Ah. The exam. Gotta split. Praying for a good outcome this Thursday, in all fairness. Deo volente.

The sun sets at nine

2007-06-07T23:32:00.001+08:00

The exam epidemic's broken out in this part of the world, and people suffer from miscellanous symptoms that don't quite match up. Try this for an example. Yours truly, in between devouring strawberries+cream and daydreaming about the homecoming trip, is not doing too good. Nevertheless, trying hard to be optimistic. haa.

I’m pacing; small steps. I’m running, I’m raring to go. I stumble; I fall. I pause, reflecting. I rise. I’m catching up. I’m anxious, common sense quashed. I’m dashing to the end; I can see the light. I may not win. But I will be there. At the finish line.

About to break down, more like. Haha. This is where I stop, to leave room for some serious reflecting. And studying.

Oh yeah, besides mangoes being exotic and costing a small fortune, it really threw everything into perspective after hearing my roomie’s story regarding her therapy practical teacher, a gastroenterologist. The class were talking about weird stuff that people in different places ate, coming across examples like snakes, rats, etc. Then the teacher spoke about a television program he saw, showcasing a weird ‘cuisine’ people made. What did these people do, you ask? They fried bananas.

It took a while to have me stop laughing so hard my stomach hurt.

At the twilight

2007-06-06T00:05:00.001+08:00

At the twilight, a moon appeared in the sky;
Then it landed on earth to look at me.

Like a hawk stealing a bird at the time of prey;
That moon stole me and rushed back into the sky.

I looked at myself, I did not see me anymore;
For in that moon, my body turned as fine as soul.

The nine spheres disappeared in that moon;
The ship of my existence drowned in that sea.

-Rumi.

Summer has arrived, surprisingly (in a pleasant way) manifested by blustering wind and cloudy atmosphere. They said it will last for a week. And as I sit here with my half-filled cup of green tea, savouring my break time (as articulated in Ops Sikap, appendix A) which has unintentionally been extended, this feeling of familiarity says hello. It's that time of year again. Every season possesses its unique peculiarities that makes its presence memorable. They may be found in the form of a song. A scenery. A favourite activity. Listening to a particular song may keenly remind you of autumn last year; listening to the train choo-chooing in the stillness of the night may bring to mind the novel feeling of just arriving here two years back. This time it's the wheezing racket of the fan's blades against the air, which is so reminiscent of summer and, inevitably, final exams. My heart flutters at the words, yet I still go about in guilty complacency. And now, I'm about to membebel pointlessly.

Life's pretty normal these days. Subuh at 2.30am, Isya' at 11.15pm. Frankly, I prefer winter's solat time. Strawberries are cheap, mangoes have been upped to about RM40 sebijik (should have taken a pic of 'em at the market), Russia and the U.S. are on the verge of another cold war, BM will be reverted to Bahasa Malaysia again (the government sure have lots of redundant topics to stress on), three more classes to go before study leave. Peachy.

ps: Happy 6th birthday to my cousin Imran (5th June)!

Rindu cycling