A little reminder

This morning, instead of the usual weekly tafseer classes, we viewed two slideshows concerning the plight of our Palestinian brothers and sisters. Later, they handed round a box for donations. I mulled over the fact that we could do so little to help our afflicted fellow Muslims in this jihad against the musyriqin. This issue has been highlighted time and again, but I fear that only very few amongst us who really did empathise with the essence of it and committed to the cause wholeheartedly. And by that, I mean boycotting the products of Israel and those who support the Zionists. We were reminded of this boycotting ‘thing’ during the furor surrounding the Danish cartoon issue not long ago but I think we could use a little prompting on our roles every now and then.

As quoted in a translated letter by Dr Khalil Ismael Al-Hayyah of HAMAS in a copy given to us (I’m paraphrasing) - if we merely become observers to this episodes of transgression and do nothing about it, we will be adjudicated in the Day of Judgment. Our brothers and sisters will demand the rights that they did not get from us in dire needs. They would die as syahids, but our fate is still hanging in the balance. Whilst they are bearing bullets in their bodies, we are happily digesting food made by the very people who fired the bullets in the first place. We are handing them the means to manufacture those bullets, thus in a way, we are fraternising with them. Aren’t we ashamed by that fact?

And just so to clarify the consequences, we won’t die from not eating McDonald’s or not drinking Cokes or Starbucks coffee. It’s just that our love for this world too often overcast the greater beauty of Al-Akhirah that we fail to sort our priorities accordingly. We are not perfect, but we can always strive for the better. And Allah knows best.


Mother Russia in spring

She walks in beauty

She Walks In Beauty
by George Gordon, Lord Byron

She walks in Beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which Heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o'er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express,
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!

My mother is an admirable person of all sorts- character-wise, knowledge-wise, career-wise... it is unnecessary really to go on. She was a strict mother (not so now, I think my youngest brother is having it really easy ;p) but maybe we were really stubborn back then. Hehe. Anyhow, she impelled every one of us to be the best we could possibly be, especially in our studies and character. All my successes have been due to her (and my father's, of course, but he's not our main character today. haha) endless encouragement and support, and also, her amazing drive to repeat the same babblings advice over and over again (I must be really stubborn then. Hehe).

I love my mother very much and am very proud of having her as a mother, and I hope that I won't be a disappointment to her (I know I have been a few times) too. Here's wishing you a very Happy Mother's Day, Mak, and you really ARE the lady described in Lord Byron's poem =)

V for Victory

We had a little 2-day holiday on 8 and 9 May to commemorate Victory Day (or VE Day) for the Allies in World War 2 during which warm celebrations were held in town. Earlier on Friday, my class together with a 3rd year class engaged in an excursion organised by our Russian teachers. We footslogged about the Square of Fallen Fighters, the Alley of Heroes and the Volga (all of which housed quite a number of monuments) in an effort to commemorate the courageous defenders (consisted not only of soldiers but also factory workers and generally untrained civilians) of Stalingrad- the former name of Volgograd, for those really in the dark- in the Battle of Stalingrad. The bloody battle, whose casualties of both German and Soviet amounted up to 2 million, stamped a pivotal moment in the war leading to the decisive Battle of Berlin that had the Nazi bowing to defeat.

But enough of history ;) Stretching from days prior to this significant date you could distinctly observe war veterans with numerous medals pinned on their chests ambling along the alley, paying due respect to their fallen comrades. As our teacher enlightened us with historical facts and thoughts, which eminently centred on the national heroes, I could feel the love and pride swelling in her heart through every syllable enunciated on her tongue (and her teary-eyed expressions)- and it made me feel, too… I felt for the people who were caught in the web of insanity of the era, interwoven with hatred between politically correct world leaders in which these people had no choice but to fight for their family and land. How awful it must have been, to be ensnared in tight battlefield unarmed but told not to leave in the pretext of preserving the spirits of the soldiers. Nevertheless, look at Volgograd today! Quite a remarkable sight for a city reduced to mere rubbles courtesy of the war, I must say.

The pictures below, however, were not taken during the excursion, as I sensibly forgot my camera (“A good photographer always brings his camera”- my dad. Well!), but on Tuesday, May 9 instead. A whole lot of people flocked to the centre to watch live cultural performances, buy plentiful souvenirs and balloons of every shape and shade, and of course, paid homage to the war heroes at the memorials. As for me, I got myself a red star-shaped balloon (I don’t know why, stars fascinate me- when I’m bored I’d doodle stars<-- but that might be due to the fact that I couldn’t draw much else. Haha), a Russian flag to complement my newfound patriotism (hahaha) and a giant cotton candy for my super-sweet tooth. Fabuloso!


A view of a monument in the park opposite our academy


Lovely fountains by the embankment of Volga


a guy talking to a war veteran (note his medals if you can)


20 Roubles for a few snaps with Mr. Python. No, thank you, sir!


A happy couple dancing to the tune of Native Indian live music nearby


catching on the collage bug from neemo ;)

Spring pictures part 1

My life cycle

My weekly cycle begins on Monday and ends on Wednesday. Then will pass in between a period of interphase- the G1, S, G2- before the cycle recommences faithfully. And there is the so-called period of panic which stretches from the late hours of Sunday- the eve of a new cycle, where metabolic activities mount up in preparation for the new cycle- to the ascending sunrise the morning after. This period is highly traumatic, during which a high dosage of caffeine might be consumed (which has proven cycle after cycle to be ineffective for its desired purpose) and distress signals are exchanged between members of the colony (simply for the sake of alleviating the pain of having to panic alone- “Shared joy is double the joy, shared sorrow is half the sorrow”, remember?). After the late afternoon of Wednesday however, the cycle mercifully ends and life will be all blue skies, sugar and spice and sunrise and everything nice for a while- that is, until the next Monday shows up.

Today is Sunday, and the sweetness of it is slowly evaporating and soon, I’ll be sending out distress calls everywhere. Watch your phone (or any means of communication), my panic vibe might just reach your ends =)

Here are some of the ways Russians relax at the park in front of the academy, all taken from quite a distance with my mediocre zoom (hopefully I don't get sued with these!)







An old, magnificent tree in the middle of the park



Amongst the first blossoming flowers there...



Sin Ye's loving the weather =)



An impossibly adorable girl who kept following us, wanting to play ;)



A bird at peace...



... before the hurricane comes!



And totally chased the bird away...



'Now who's my next victim...' pondering whilst scratching head



Got ya first! Haha...



During Latin class with Tatiana Ivanovna

Today's a rainy day

Despite my being scared stiff of thunders and lightning, the boisterous clatters of the former pulsating through the hours of darkness last night almost sounded like sweet music to my ears. It has been six months and those were the first thunders and lightning I had ever observed on this good land (perhaps some took place whilst I slept, do excuse me) and I was strongly reminded of home- of the never-ending rain during the monsoon season. Of sitting by the widely open door to feel the cool brush of the wind… the fresh scent of the rain… the harmonious rumble of heavy raindrops. Disregarding the puddles-of-water-and-mud factor, rainy days are actually quite cool ;)

I can’t thank enough those who went through lengths to celebrate my birthday in one way or another. Thank you to the SMS-es (I especially dig the birthday song in German- danke sehr once again, dear Azleen =)); the Friendster testimonials; the blog entry =); the blog comments; the cards (got my only cards via airmail from my grandparents and aunt on the day itself, no less!); the four fabulous cakes (cream-caramel-icing cake, cheese cake, banana cake, and one micro-mini leftover cake *haha*); the midnight wish; the singing in class by classmates; the singing in lecture by lecture mates; the sushi feast with roommates and sister; the supposedly-surprise birthday bash by classmates (which was a bit obvious since they cooked in my floor’s kitchen. LOL.)… and my favourite part- the presents! Haha. The presents were all lovely and thoughtful (like the cat tabung for example… sangat bermakna *wink*).

To tell the truth, I had almost the same elated feeling as I had during each raya on that day (or every birthday, for that matter) =) And it’s all thanks to these people who really made me feel special that day. Lots of love to you people!

Happy Birthday, Abah!

I would have settled for a corny poem, but I knew better than to permit myself in becoming the subject of laughter by many. So here’s a simple, loving birthday wish to you, Abah, with all the prayers I could muster in the favour of your happiness in this world and the hereafter. You have always been the centre of my world,

the backbone of my successes,

the shoulder I could weep on...

You are my walking encyclopedia,

My partner-in-crime,

My bulletproof vest (haha),

My friend;

The person I aspired to be as a child… and still do;

You are dearest to my heart.

Happy 45th Birthday, Abah!

Ps: This is corny too I guess. Sheesh.
Pps: Sorry I didn’t get to dedicate an entry for your birthday, Mak. I’ll write one for Mother’s Day, insyaallah =)

Too right you are

Butterfinger

They call you sticky fingers for a reason!

What Kind of Candy Are You?

Now isn't that simply appropriate?? *guffaws*

Clumsy's my middle name

I’m an extremely clumsy person. A day would not pass without me having to scrub either my t-shirt, the carpet, or my bed sheet courtesy of accidental tragedies disguised as ketchups, drinks, oil, chili paste (this was yesterday by the way), and so on. It gets frustrating all the time- and not to mention physically tormenting. Something must be curiously wrong with the muscles of my fingers!

As an extra precaution, I feel the need to reiterate my warning a long, long time ago in one of my entries: do not ever think of employing me as your maid- I will burn your house down. A bit of an exaggeration there, you think?? Think again ;) But don’t worry, that’s about the worst thing that could happen within the sound scope of my logical reasoning--> which isn’t that reliable actually, so, well… Whatever catches your wildest imagination, then. Teehee.

The sun has been grinning non-stop these days, but the wind refuses to give up either. I’m perfectly sitting on the fence in this matter- good fight, guys =)

One small fragment of thoughts

Treading along the sidewalk at the heart of the city on my own one recent afternoon (though only for 15 minutes en route to a meeting) allowed me a distinctive occasion to observe the surroundings and swathe in the pure scent of unfamiliarity all around me. In a queer way, it did not rattle me to the least- a little welcoming, in fact. I’ve tried quite intently these days to detach myself from petty impedances- not to sweat the small stuff and let them corrupt my whole purpose of survival. I understand the degree of responsibility entrusted to me as a Muslim, daughter, sister and friend, and the purist in me hungers for perfection of my role(s). I’m not that arrogant to mean that factually- by perfection, I mean to go all out and do my best. To go overboard in earning my rights amongst the blessed fractions of mankind in the hereafter.

I realise that I would sound like a total ignorant with these mundane proclamations but more often than not, the better of us humans are so caught up in our worldly affairs that we would unconsciously tilt our scale towards the other side- the transient phase of our existence. As for me… there have been times… the times when I could have just kept quiet but chose to open my mouth and end up hurting people’s feelings without meaning to do so. The times when I get too emotionally involved in something and end up hurting my own morale unnecessarily. The times when I forget that Allah has mapped out His plans for each one of us and all we have to do is follow the straight path to Him. The times when I feel totally aghast upon witnessing the corruption of men but realise that I haven’t done anything to put a stop to it. The times when friendships and social standards win against firmly standing up for what is right and thus overshadow my better sense of judgement.

Prayers- are those enough for a weak soul like me who feels she hasn’t put in adequate efforts in everything for herself, let alone for the world?

Effort. A big word with great determination as prerequisite. I don’t know if I possess enough of that in my bones. History has testified that I would often draw back from giving out my best… for the fear of failing miserably. Stupid, yes. But just to clarify matters, I’m not a complete wreck- I just feel I haven’t been doing enough for the good of me. A great obstacle that I wish to overcome, and soon… insyaallah. Our efforts may not prove to be fruitful in this lifetime, but Allah knows the sincerity of our intentions. And He is the best amongst all givers.

I should most definitely pick up my anatomy textbook and begin reading. ;p