Happy birthday, Mak!

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

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

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.

Shame on Egypt.

Pre-exam doodle

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

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

Azleen,

Happy birthday.

Maximum Entropy

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

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

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.