Here comes the light

The light of Ramadhan illuminates the windows of our lives once again- praise be to Allah for this precious gift of hopes and opportunities. The month lavished with barakah; the time for self-reproach and renewed fortifications of our iman. Are we all up for it, then?

When you're volleying from one building to another for classes in a barmy weather (the sun's won the fight for the time being, as it appears) whilst suffering from occasional sore throat/cough fueled grandly by either the automobiles or the much less tolerable smoke reeking from those cancer sticks (smokers, I loathe thee), you're prone to overlooking the finer details of the befitting observation of this holy month. Meaning you get all hot and impatient, even if sometimes you do manage to keep it at the brim of your bursting ego. And now that you don’t have the devils around to blame your sick thoughts upon, it really makes things more difficult, as paradoxical as it may seem.

The jihad against an-nafs should not be taken lightly. They’re well-prepared, armed with strong dosage of immunity courtesy of their bosses before the latter went on hiatus. And chances are, you won’t even notice that it really is your nafs acting by proxy when you reach for those extra chicken drumsticks during iftar which you suspect will make you bloat like Shrek and monkey with your concentration all through tarawih later but you do it anyway. This is but one of the many examples to demonstrate the discreet work of our soul's inner demon. This parasitic form of the syaitans are way cunning, and if you don’t upgrade your fortress right away, you’ll find yourself amongst the comeback presents of fallen comrades for the ultimate hell-dwellers currently-being-‘subdued’-as-we-speak.

It is easy to forget, that Ramadhan comes only once a year, and we may not live so long as to observe it next time around. Let's barricade our iman with due prayers, rising for tahajjud, reading the Quran, zikr, sadaqah- the possibilities are endless. What’s most important however, is our intentions, as good deeds must be coupled with good intentions. If we work on these, conquering our nafs might just be one step easier.

Alhamdulillah we’ve completed three tarawihs already as a jamaah, with a tazkirah afterwards. Life’s been peachy, though a couple of classes leave much to be desired (in terms of which I’d rather not discuss). Nothing that these sturdy hands of mine can’t handle :)

Anjakan paradigma (Paradigm shift)

Seingat saya, saya tak pernah menulis entry dalam bahasa Melayu. Saya pun kurang pasti mengapa. Mungkin sebab saya tak pandai menulis dengan gaya bersahaja (casual)- akhirnya saya akan kelihatan sangat skema, seperti menulis karangan untuk Pn. Ehsan, guru BM saya di sekolah (Pn. Ehsan pun tak akan approve baca ayat-ayat ni! Minta ampun laa, cikgu).

Bagi saya, kalau nak menulis dengan bahasa harian kita, sudah pasti menggunung kesalahan-kesalahan tatabahasa yang akan saya buat (penggunaan perkataan, struktur ayat, dan sebagainya). Bunyinya macam sedikit poyo, tapi saya tak suka tulis ayat-ayat 'cincai', bahasa pasar. Sebab tu saya lebih selesa menulis dalam bahasa Inggeris kot, boleh tulis offhand, everyday entry tanpa (sama ada) melanggar undang-undang tatabahasa ataupun berbunyi seperti seorang sasterawan negara. Haha. I guess I'm just a weirdo.

Tentu ada yang tidak akan bersetuju dengan pandangan saya- mungkin memang ilmu bahasa saya yang cetek yang menghalang saya daripada menulis dengan baik secara informal (perkataan ni dah dimelayukan ke belum? ;p). Tapi tak mengapa, saya akan terus berusaha (memang sah poyo)!

Hari ini genap setahun sejak kami pertama kali menjejakkan kaki di bumi Volgograd. Perasaan saya? Bercampur-baur, tapi lebih kepada terkejut- "dah setahun ke?? Waaa...". Banyak yang saya pelajari sepanjang setahun menimba pengetahun di sini, meskipun kehidupan di universiti langsung tidak seperti yang saya terbayang-bayangkan semasa di bangku sekolah dulu... mungkin banyak sangat menonton TV. Pengaruh media massa! Haha. Alhamdulillah kehidupan saya secara keseluruhannya boleh dikatakan baik, dan saya berdoa agar Allah S.W.T. mengentalkan semangat saya untuk tahun-tahun mendatang.

Amin.


Our anniversary cake

Happy Birthday, Volgograd!

I've never seen a live parade aside from those on our school's sports day, and last Sunday I participated in one. The occasion happened to be our city, Volgograd's 417th birthday. Many of us were not actually aware that we were required to join in the parade (instead of watching it) when our Russian teachers told us to turn up in our national costumes. Despite some degrees of reluctance (not for me though- I was actually quite excited), we marched on with the mass, stretching several kilometres from Lenin Square down to Volga river banks.

Due to a moment of brilliance during our Bekelah hiking trip the week before coming back here in which I dropped my camera and all but destroyed it, I was left with a faulty machine and had to borrow my sister's for this day's purpose. All went well, that is, until the memory card pleaded full and the battery ran out at about the same time. I could have wailed out loud then and there, for the best part of the show had just started. Nevertheless... I display some of the captured moments here for dear viewers.


Some of us girls before the parade


People laying flowers at the monument in front of the academy


Litte Ms. Kitty poses with Sin Ye, Sany, and Farah


Look at the tail!


Cinderella's late for the ball...!




Lovely kids and balloons


Girls in traditional costumes


Medieval princes and princess


Posing with the circus acts


A pak cik, mak cik, and an elf


Farah with a bunch of girls dressed up as, erm, fairies?


Again, people from the dark ages


The Malaysian crowd (the Indians behind us)


Robocop guy with his clan


An Indian guy with the acrobats


The parade begins!


Shu An and Li Fen enjoying the show


Anything to stand out!




Viewers by the roadside


Performing dance for the crowd (couldn't get the partner- they were too fast!)


An enthusiastic kid hoisted above the crowd




nearing Volga


Farah with two, err, belly dancers?


Little Dima brandishing our flag


by the embankment


dancers on a parade car




the crowd at the banks of Volga

I'm turning this into a photo album already! There are more interesting pics of the costumes, but a bit too saucy for public viewing. Hehe. Still, a splendid celebration with great show of patriotism.

To my camera, please get better.

Hello again

I report from the land of pokerfaced aloofness (for the most part), of everything pricey, of insipid cuisine, of freakish charm in a way I cannot aptly articulate. The dilly-dallying was due to the incurable holiday disease of dormancy. I have been busy! Eheh. And to be fair, our internet has just been plugged back in two days ago and my internet account has only been up and running (read: topped up) for two hours. Anyhow, my apologies.

A lot has happened lately, the most recent being the Crocodile Hunter guy’s death. I told my friends, and the unfailing response from each one of them would be, I’ve heard of his death like, 2 years ago. To which I would say, OK, this time he died for real. The guy’s massive popularity was discernible from the plentiful messages of condolences from many important people all over but his most striking legion of fans would always be the little ones who faithfully watch his show. It’s a bit gleeful really, to read this comment from a small kid- “why does it have to be Steve Irwin? Why can’t it be someone old, like Sean Connery?” Kids just have the uncanny knack of being transparent, don’t they.

Off to a different topic- unpacking stuff requires a strong dose of will, for which I had demonstrated from the day of arrival until… four days later. Especially if you have one big luggage, one proper hand-carry, one improper hand-carry (in the form of a paper bag wrapped up by the protective plastic service at KLIA), two HUGE container bags (left in hostel), and several paper bags with a couple still floating around one of the floors reserved for storage (unknown exact coordinates). I’m currently missing three of my favourite mugs- a Harry Potter, a Little Mermaid, and a Bayern Munich (Sorry, Azleen :(). Do remind me to do a checklist next year.

Amongst the smallest details to share is the encounter I had with this old Tatar lady down at Nevskaya yesterday morning. She personifies the characteristic friendly Russian mak ciks who counterbalance the preconceived notion of Russians being generally cold and standoffish. Beginning with the routine “where are you from?” question, she went on to asking our place of study, complimenting our ‘prowess’ in Russian language (haha. We’re terrible, really, I’m sure she was simply being nice) and wishing us luck in our studies. I found out that we share the same name, and that she’s a doctor. All in all, the conversation might not hold any indicative value for many, but it was enough to make my day.

The elder generation often exudes a soothing image of kindness to my eyes. I still remember an old lady who spoke to us on a tram handing us a banana as a small token- she didn’t have anything to give and insisted we have it. A simple, yet moving gesture. These people remind me of the small acts of kindness we owe others- from holding doors for the person behind you to following queues to throwing rubbish in the bin to a simple smile towards a stranger (where it’s appropriate, of course ;)). We never know when these little favours would circle back to aid us in future lives.

Finally.

I've convinced myself that this would be the temporary look for my site until I find one that I truly like, or at least be partial to. This revamped blog is still messy, with hiccups here and there, but it is and will always be up and running, make no mistake =D Good day, everyone!

Wake up, you people

Eloquently put by crimsonskye (thanks for the permission;)) on the prolonging issue:

How much do you care?

Nine days into the open war in Lebanon, with the crimes committed by the Israelis now far beyond their so-called anti-terrorist operations. Civilians are being murdered by the hundreds, their homes ripped apart and their cities torn to shreds. At the same time Palestinians continue their long fight against the occupation of their homeland, and against the atrocities of the Israel government.

Are we even aware of the pain and suffering of our fellow human beings? Or are we still wondering how in the world our darling Siti Nurhaliza chose to marry Datuk K?

Anyone with a heart couldn't possibly not be moved by the plight of the Palestinians, towards their strong and unwearied spirit to carry on their struggle - even without the help of the rest of the world, who tend to turn a blind eye and a deaf ear on the situation. Those Palestinians, they're just ordinary people like you and me, but they're all blessed with this unbelievable bravery to defend their homes and people from the Israelis.

The situation in Palestine can be confusing and misleading to the majority of outsiders, who are depending on the West-controlled media for information about Palestine. If Israel invades the Palestinian lands and murders civilians, that is 'self-defense'. But if someone responds to Israeli aggression with a rocket, that is 'Muslim terrorism'. How could anyone agree to this horrendous double-standard is beyond me.

When Hamas finally obtained victory in the Palestinian legislative election, which has been described by the officials and observers as extremely fair and transparent with a large voter turnout, many stated that the outcome was 'disturbing' because with Hamas in power it would encourage terrorism activities even more than before.

What the hell is this? The Palestinians went through a democracy process that was done with integrity and in line with international standards, then those very same people who claimed to uphold democracy refuse to recognize Hamas' right to form their government. They cut off all ties with the Hamas, reject truces and calls for ceasefire offered by Hamas, sanction blockings towards the aid and supplies brought to the Palestinians, while the Israel regime continues to massacre the Palestinians and razing their homes to the ground.

Suicide bomber/bombing are just terms coined by the West. Phrases like 'Islamic militants' and 'extremists' are used in liberal doses. Don't fall into these manipulating traps. Anyone with the basic knowledge of Islam would know that in Islam, suicide is forbidden to the utmost.

Suicide is done out of desperation, but the Palestinians who bombed themselves have nothing to do with desperation or losing the will to live. This is their last resort to defend themselves against the violence committed upon them. What do the Palestinians have to help themselves against the Israelis, who have a whole hoard of missiles, Apache helicopters, precision bombs, F16s and goodness knows what else?

And just who do we think we are to tell them what they should or never do? We're not in their places - we're sitting here in our comfortable homes, with our friends and family safe with us. We're not the ones who are being snatched away from our homes, watching our own mothers and fathers being murdered before our own eyes, our brothers and sisters assaulted and dishonoured. We're not the ones who are being starved to death and having bombs and bullets slammed into our own streets each passing day.

It doesn't make me feel any better to see anyone being killed, on whatever side they are. Anyone would wish for all of this just to stop right now, but of course that's impossible.

So what we can do?

No need to feel so helpless. The first thing we need to do is take a very firm stand against the Zionists (don't put the Jews all in the same bandwagon! Not all Jews are Zionists and not all Zionists are Jews!) and the regime of Israel. Be extremely aware of the history and the current situation of Palestine. Take every effort to increase our information about their issues e.g. going to talks. Whenever we could, engage friends and family in discussions about the Palestinian issue.

Another step further would be boycotting the products and services by companies that invest in Israel. There are so many, including Intel, Nokia and other brands that are still essential to many of us. We can't boycott all but we can do whatever which is within our capacities.

MacDonald's would be the easiest example. Just two days ago, a friend of mine suddenly told me she has decided not to consume McD anymore. She doesn't know it, but I felt a lump in my throat when I heard her saying that. I have so many people around me who are very sympathetic to the Palestinian cause, but only a few actually boycott something to show solidarity with the Palestinians. She told me, it feels very difficult not to eat anything McD anymore. To give up something that she had enjoyed very much - I pray that Allah will reward her efforts.

I have no idea whether these boycotts have significant economic impacts or not, but that's not my first and foremost reason for boycotting. It's all about taking a stand regarding something that's very dear to my heart. If my boycotting those products can get the message across about the Palestinian issue to other people, or at least make me remind myself of my brothers and sisters who are fighting for their very lives at this very moment, then these are reasons enough for me.

Two cents of an entry

Latest smack of reality: Suddenly felt inspired this morning to enter a writing contest. Retrieved the form and read through. And there, at the very bottom, two categories were listed- 1) 13-15 years old 2) 16-19 years old.

.......

Distressingly realised that I have exceeded the eligible age-range and was subdued for the whole of 2 minutes before switching to upset mode, bit chafed. Why 19? Why not 20?? (feeling a wee bit ancient also)

My dearest friend Azleen has gone Down Under, in the name of education. Haha. Wishing you nothing but the best, Azleen, and hopefully you'll bump into Heath Ledger as you climb up Brokeback Blue Mountain. =p


Me and Azleen

Definition of a holiday

My holiday so far is a classic case of a mishmashed scheme, which is actually a perfect scheme for a perfect holiday, but you get embroiled with the wonderful fickleness of thy brain in the process of executing thy plan, and end up playing spider solitaire in between reading Q Detective School whilst occasionally contemplating on the criticalness of the current languid state you are in (it has been decided that you have not reached critical point yet).

If I possess the ingenuity to engineer my blog template anytime at will, honestly I would change it every single week, with as many colours as I could scrape off my pallette. As luck would have it, I don't, and thus am left to leaf through hundreds of blah templates (OK, some of them are O-K but as it happens, I'm not searching for OK templates) before giving up for now. But no worries, as I go blog-hopping those pretty sites my green shade of envy shall deepen and I will definitely google the word 'free blog templates' and such in no time. Case closed.

We went fishing cum picnic this morning and whilst the others basked in the glory of catching 3, 4, 7 (8?) ekor ikan talapia (and a couple others of undefined type), I had to settle for, er, 0. I'm clearly not a fisherman. The other day my mother asked me to do a bit of weeding at the front lawn and despite meticulous reasonings, I ended up gaily mutilating her growing pokok cili and some daun pegaga. Clearly I'm not a gardener, too.

So self-discovery isn't doing too well this first week of holidays. Oh, perhaps a bit from the piece of advice given by my dad last night regarding my temper- with the classic Zidane headbutt incident as example. He said I would do just what Zidane did- right in wanting to defend justice, wrong in the course of action. Zidane might be provoked, but people's first impression would always highlight upon the fact that he had headbutted poor Materrazzi rather than directly questioning his motive for doing so. And, for that moment at least, he was the only bad guy.

I am not very good at making conclusions, but I think everyone got my point ;) Sailing off to cloud cuckoo land... *yawn*

Menu of The Year

1. Ikan patin goreng

2. Kari kambing

3. Udang masak merah

4. Ayam goreng berempah (yeke??)

5. Sayur umbut masak lemak

6. Sayur labu masak lemak

7. Sambal belacan

8. Sambal 'O' dengan tempoyak

9. Sambal tumis ikan bilis dengan petai

10. Ulam raja, kacang botol, jering dan petai

11. Limpa (yeke??) goreng

Pemanis mulut:

1. Puding buah-buahan (something berkuah, I forgot to try)

2. 3 biji kek Secret Recipe: Banana something-something cake, White chocolate macadamian cake, and Chocolate Indulgence cake

Minuman:

1. Jus oren

2. Jus kelapa muda

3. Air sejuk


I was one happy eater =D Thank you very much, Aki & co. !

Safely tucked at home

"Apa berita terbaru kat sini? Pasal Erra-Yusry tu, lagi?"

"Aaa pasal Mawi tu tahu??"

"Tahu2."

"Siti Nordiana dah kawin... Syura pun!"

"Anne Ngasri pun!"

"Ade show "One in A MIllion" tu, adik Siti masuk, dia tu... *not suitable listening for Siti's fans*..."

Alright, I'm definitely back in Malaysia =)

The writing mood's not there, probably mightily supplanted by the eating mood. Can't wait for the kenduri tomorrow!

On a different note, I managed to watch all the quarter-final games and the first semi-final (was on the plane for the second but didn't care much as Brazil was not playing. heh.). What can I say? France made a real comeback in the later rounds, and especially in the quarters. Well. Actually Zidane made a real comeback. A super-duper brilliant comeback. And they deserved that game. Only the fact that the game was against my most favourite team in the world thus... go Italy! Beat those nasty squirts!

And poor Argentina. As much as I am fond of Germany, Argentina didn't deserve to lose. Boo to Pekerman for not putting in Messi. The replacement of the 'keeper undoubtedly affected the whole outcome too. Uhuh. Better luck next time, guys.

As for the first semi, I think Italy did well to get through. Two brilliant goals for a riveting match! Although I could understand Klinsmann's frustration for the late goals as he must have been fervently praying for a penalty shootout. Another unexpected twist of fate, it seems. But well, it's just a game. And let's hope France doesn't win the Cup. Hehe.