Heart for Malaysia

Alhamdulillah, Malaysia is now 53 years independent and insyaAllah going on strong. I love this country however indifferent I may come across as. Is loving your country not part of the religion?

In Surah Ibrahim, verse 35, Prophet Ibrahim prayed for Makkah to be a city of peace and security, and for him and his generations be preserved from worshiping idols.

واذ قال ابراهيم رب اجعل هذا البلد ءامنا واجنبني وبني ان نعبد الآصنام

Ramadhan is the month for improving your habits so I'll try of make this doa one of my dailies, too. That's the least I could do.

However, it occurred to me how we are independent, not liberated. (Ironically, it happened during watching one of those documentaries.) I noted the differences in their meanings;

in·de·pen·dent
adj.
1. Not governed by a foreign power; self-governing.
2. Free from the influence, guidance, or control of another or others; self-reliant: an independent mind.
3. Not determined or influenced by someone or something else; not contingent:

lib·er·ate
tr.v. lib·er·at·ed, lib·er·at·ing, lib·er·ates
1. To set free, as from oppression, confinement, or foreign control.

but we all have moments where words never fail to baffle us. Judging with my obscured twenty-year-old mind, I could not relate how independent fits the state of this country.

In the meantime, I will stick to the good old Hari Kemerdekaan.

---

This is my not-so motivated entry to Hitz.fm calls for memorable Merdeka moment.

Truth be told, the only memory I have of 31st August was lounging at home and cursing the telly for showing something as interesting as the same old Merdeka parade. It was a fact that I lack patriotism in that department.

Though I did catch up on some readings about our history and how we come to be where we are now. Historical researches can be fascinating and illuminating but I'm in a tight spot right now over the choice of sources inaccessible to public.

Other than that, how else do people celebrate Hari Kemerdekaan?

Before you start on the Satu Malaysia idealism, I would like to enlighten the world that the only Indian I acquainted with was our veterinarian Dr. Palani, and any Chinese I befriended were people I met through MapleStory. It's a drawback on my behalf, plus exaggerated by the point I live in a state where more than 90% of the population is Malay.

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Fireworks can be heard outside. I proposed to mom about getting us at least supplies of mercun bawang but she said it was as dangerous as any other firecrackers could be. It's obviously ludicrous, but any idea on how to defy this?

The Non-existing Smile, Yet

When I saw Yaya, I killed the engine and gestured for Hakim to get out of the car. The slimy boy named Raimi came up to us and requested permission to stay in the car because the weather was hot. Nehi, I answered him sweetly, and proceeded to haul two complimentary dustbins of mom’s workplace from the boot towards Yaya’s class.

Someone called out for Muallimah Atiqah and I recognized their cheery faces as my ex-students though I lamented over the fact that they were pretty much at my height now. I felt bad for not recognizing their names, but that’s what nametags are for.

I exchanged a few words with Adzlin, Syahirah and Sulha (then 3 Amanah, now 5 Ali) and saw the boy giving me an impatient scowl urging me to wrap it up and do it quick. I somehow felt like an overborne wife which was odd considering I am yet to be married.

I said my goodbyes to the girls whilst glaring him and walked back towards the car with Grandpa Raimi by my side. "Nak kunci kereta," he quickly demanded with a smile.

I snorted. "Tie mane? Baju tak butang-"

Nagging at him two years ago fell on deaf ears and that did not change in retrospect.

"- lengan tak kancing- Eh Naim la." I was distracted by the sight of the tanned Naim across the road and that last bit slipped out loud.

"Naim!" Raimi called out, and I cringed for what to come. "Gewe ni!"

My knee instinctively went up in offence while his hands instinctively shot up in defence.

Naim looked over, but he did not smile in recognition. His face was that of who-the-hell? but for my sake I was probably mistaken.

The kids were waiting for the car to be unlocked. I clicked on the remote. Yaya and Hakim soon climbed into the back seat. Raimi and Hussein waited solemnly by the passenger's door.

I stared at them, hands akimbo. "Masuk la kalau berani."

I sighed at their happy faces on the passenger's seat. It was decided there and then that you do not dare children.

I saw Naim and naturally waved a short hello. He eyed me suspiciously and... walked off across the street towards the obscured corner of Pak Mud's with, dare I say, a constipated expression. He did so as macho as a twelve-year-old could do, and I was pitifully shredded of hopes.

I scurried into my seat and fired the engine. It took a while to throw Hussein and Raimi off, such a while that Yaya got agitated and threw out a "Cepat la, nak balik ni!"

In the car..

"Argh, sedihnye Naim tak ingat!"

And the non-responded whine continued a few minutes, all the way from SRI Aman to the junction in front of Aulad Playschool, each one escalating dramatically. My siblings soon got tired and shouted for me to sober up and drive.

It was quite disturbing to be told off by ten- and six-year-old, but now I realized how much it hurts not to be recognized by someone you're fond of.

"Ika ajar dia dulu, mesti dia dah tak ingat!" Yaya reasoned.

"Tapi Ilham ingat, budak-budak lain ingat. Ika paling suke sekali Naim.." And the whimpering continued.

Despite all odds, I sincerely wish them the best.

"Please don't give in, I won't let you down."

chigu,

i can offer you my company, though people generally say i talk in a labyrinth and took them a while to process me, well screw them for being slow. you're not slow, right? your eyes practically glitter with intelligence.

but you probably don't want to listen much, either.

sorry i can't be more of a help, but whatever happens i will take care of you. i mean, we. please hang in there.

atiqah

I believe a veterinarian will be an awesome catch. I prefer a smashing one spilling with wit.

Or I may just be talking about me.

Good Luck Kids

Finally today I saw Ikbal, though his height hasn't seen any increment since the last two years. He smiled albeit awkwardly with the I-know-you-but-who-are-you-again? expression.

Raimi however, plastered his legendary toothy grin. "Teacher Atiqah kan?"

"Ha'ah."

"Kenapa dah kurus?"

"Oh?" Haha that's a first.

"Puasa ke?" The boy was firing away out of old times comfort.

"Sebab study la.. (Poyo sungguh makhluk ni.) Korang study elok-elok ye."

"Okay!"

We reached the car. Yaya and Hakim climbed in.

"Adik teacher ke?"

"Ha'ah."

"Ke anak?"

"Adik le."

Uzma Inspired

When I was with Kelana Convoy, I met this two-year-old who sat behind me on the bus with her mom. She had the most adorable nose, this Dora-style bangs and was positive for this squeal-worthy reflex in which you hold up your hand in front of her and she will grab it for a polite salam.

Dora the Explorer versus Uzma Suhaili.

Her name was Uzma and she went on the trip with her father Encik Suhaili, mother Kak Faten and six years old sister Awla.

Kak Faten, Encik Suhaili and Awla.

She hardly spoke to strangers thus I concluded she was smart. She kept herself stone-faced when I smiled at her, cooed at her even, and that amused me to no ends. I mean, how often do you come across an expressionless toddler? I understand shy, but this one stared at you straight in the eye, batting no eyelids.

One day midway through our trip, she surprised me by popping up from behind my seat with a cute greeting and smile that showed her straight row. Her voice was so small and childish as she giggled and shoved me her book, asking to sit beside me and for me to read the Aladdin book for her.

All those days of cooing and coaxing finally paid off, I smirked.

The little doll spoke with Scottish accent. It was so genuine and blended in like her own mother tongue, and I was reminded of my Psychology lecturer who spoke perfect British accent thus throwing me to the realm of Vesper Lynd in Casino Royale.

So sweet was her voice, that I was reminded of my childhood and my own mother when she called for her mommy. That moment on I decided to call my mama mommy.

Discreetly, of course. Nothing too palpable, I might raise people's eyebrow.

In My Hands

Haru died today at 12.10pm.

Haru, 11 - 17 August 2010

He died while I was holding him after 0.7ml of Pediasure. I buried him under the shade of the kedondong tree.

I'm starting to believe 2010 is the year of adventures and death. And one should never bury her own pet; leave it to someone with less attachment instead.

But maybe that was for the best. Closure for the parties involved is one way to look at it. I hope everything we did for him is accounted for as kebaikan; that is all I hope for us. And for him to be in peace, which is a guarantee, and the rest of his siblings to grow up strong and healthy.

I miss him.

Spawn like Rabbits

Some rabbit gave birth to 6 babies this morning, and there's five adults in the cage so I wasn't sure which one was the mother. There's two supposed; Junno and Boo but I think it's Junno. Hell I'm going to check Junno up, no way. It reeks of eeeeevil!

Junnosuke and the evil eye. It is now twice the size in the picture.

The pen was a mess. Miki had dried blood caking on its fur. Boo had its mouth full with fur. The rest were up and about hogging the pellet disc. Furs were in every corner of the pen.

The six babes were widely separated on the cold floor, between the feet of the hopping rabbits. I had to get them out into a safer place.

Now what?

p/s: There is no way I am touching the adults, no way na'ah. They're huge! They might bite and scratch and I might get rabies!

Or they struggle and get loose and run over or get eaten by Feddy the cat!

Oh for God sake! Whose idea was to take in 5 rabbits and let them breeeeeed? X(

Growing Up Damselflies

When I was 12, I used to spend my break for afternoon prayer chasing and gently capturing damselflies around the school field and ablution area. I liked those thin flying grubs and took pride in my ability to sneak up on them and show them off to my classmates.

Also when you grab hold of their end part (gentle does it; you don't want to literally spill their guts), they coil on your fingertips. Slightly tickling but it was oddly calming.

There was a patch of water at the corner of our neighbourhood where I used to stroll every evening and you could find them perching on the tip of tall aquatic plants. If in luck, they might come nearer, but I think it was genetic know-how that prompted them to stay put and sneer at me from a distance.

Normal kids would call them pepatung, but being infatuated with Dr. Slump at that time (and when was I normal?), I boldly declared them capung.

They forever remain my favourite insect. And also because they eat dimwitted mosquitoes and stupid flies on a daily occasion.

---

I was then a kid with the knowledge of dragonflies' presence indicates clean water (whilst waterlilies' observes a dirty one) because they are originally grubs, specifically called naiads living underwater up to months before ascending as the beautiful flying creatures they are, and naiads could not survive in polluted water.

Kind of like us growing up, and the analogy fascinated me since I was 12.

P/s: I am not sure if catching damselflies is something a good kid does. 

Some call it manipulative...

... I call it charismatic.

The other day I saw Oli Pettigrew learning to play Jason Mraz's I'm Yours on the ukulele in 20 minutes and I was star-strucked.

Afterwards I downloaded the song and looked up Ukulele Movement. I even found out the mahogany ukulele Oli had was around SGD400 and I actually considered ordering it online.

Yes, I'm taking up ukulele one day.

No, this isn't Oli and his ukulele.

Post to reading McCourt memoir, I had an interest in the name Ollie. Having been amused by Sir Awesome's witty remarks, the interest has now bloomed into a full-blowned crush.

I'm naming my future pet Ollie.

---

It goes to show how big the impact of media on our judgement and consequently our daily life. How manipulative that thin box on the wall can be. And yes, that sinfully taunting external harddisk everyone seems to be owning nowadays.

Choose your input wisely, take care of your iman and don't waste time.

---

On a side note, we're heading to Beruas after the Friday prayer.

Why I Wear Crocs

What do you know, Crocs is actually one of the most hideous shoes ever in creation. And wearing them around counts you as an arrogant self-centered person who thinks she's beautiful enough with the rest of her outfit to overcompensate the hideousness of her footwear.

I think those critics think too much, and no that's not what I think of my humble self. Though I couldn't agree more with the arrogant self-centered part. Maybe I should tone it down?

I just wanna vouch for Crocs practicality and comfiness (I originally bought my LE300 ones for medical reason). And mine is seriously cool, check this out for yourself!

That, and the fact I couldn't find any Blundstone boots around.

I used to have them when I was six and scamping about Australia, but obviously at 20 I would have outgrown it.

We're gonna go wardrobe hunting soon.

p/s: Apparently, location does not hinder your sleep issues.

27th July: Owh Alex, you scratched my heart

1. Do not let people decide for you.
2. There are times to be safe and NOT take the risk of uncertainties.
3. Do not take flight from anywhere in Egypt except from Cairo.
4. You know you love Emirates.

Wait, since when did I take the risk of uncertainties??

This is why I always rather be on my own thus in charge. Leaving things in people's hand is just.. sickening when at lost.

---

Insane. "But I was told I'm getting 30kilos!"

"You have to pay LE114 per kg excess, so 10kg will be-"

"Yea I know, LE1140." This is insane! "Can I combine the weight with my friends?"

"That's not allowed. If you're going to pay-"

"I'm not paying." I don't care if I came across rude for interrupting him twice. "Is there anything I can do about it?"

"You can talk to Mr. Ayman at the first counter there. Go."

---

Mr. Ayman let me check my luggage in the First Class counter. Alhamdulillah the 33kg luggage passed with His blessings and that dude's nod.

I'd like to think it was due to the fierce glint in my eyes that said I'm gonna complain all out and shove your b****** up your a**, bring this up to the highest authority if I must. I did not paid LE3750 for a 20kg flight, no I did not!

But everything is all Allah's blessings.

اللهم لا سهل الا ما جعلته سهلا
وانت تجعل الحزن ان شئت سهلا

Twenty

Owh it's good to be back. Just in time to spend my last day of the somewhat crazy 19-year-old in the safe cocoon of PT 715.

Since I failed to sleep in the last 24 hours prior to touching down in Malaysia at 3pm, I crashed at midnight and was woken up by my grandma at noon. Barely finished my lunch (Nasi Ayam Mok Noh, haha. Sweet evergreen.) and body shut down right there afterwards.

Back alive at 4pm, was it? Then I remembered it's 29th today. Haha. And I still aches all over, I wonder am I really 20? Feels like 50 ouch.

I've had a funny start. Sure hope this is no indication to what lies further.

Happy 20, Atiqah.

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30th July, 8.30pm - 10.00pm

Euro Fun Park. I had the time of my life defying gravity and staring wide-eyed at the ground from a perpendicular position meters above, thus taunting the fact I am acrophobic.

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31th July

There was two weddings to attend today, both couples were students in the medical profession.

"If you want to get married, better do so before dad retires," mom said.

Which is next year. What is this, Mission: Marriage Impossible?

---

1th August, 8.00pm

Dinner at New Horizon Restaurant. It was my first time dining at the family's favourite restaurant, and it was splendid.

Angela's Ashes

Date: 100710
Location: Calais heading to Belgium.

I was on the bus reading Angela's Ashes up till 117 and dutifully ignoring everything else when my eyes watered and my nose clogged needing sniffles.


And I chuckled at the innocence and wisdom of the wee lad of Frank McCourt and dabbed my eyes on my sleeves at the poverty and death claiming his brothers one by one.

In France I missed my family thus sms-ed my father. I thanked God for the blessings I have, the opportunity I was given, the bright blue sky of Calais, the home-made tuna and cucumber sandwiches and the two seats I procured on the bus.

Sigh. It's a nice change from the mind-reeling online fictions and mind-boggling PDF non-ficts I've been reading nowadays.

---

In short, this is a memoir of Frank McCourt growing up in extreme poverty. But the gold in this paperback that got me reading thoroughly was how he told the story with the keen observation of a growing lad, the innocence of a child taking the world at face value, and the wisdom of an eldest brother forced to mature up early.

Story-telling at its best.

---

Moments like this remind me how grateful I am to be handpicked by Allah to further my studies in Egypt. This place toughened you up yet the people and surroundings humbled you.

Though it does make you wonder; is there a possibility to be one tough chick with a humble personality?

Albeit me currently is self-centered; the intensity depends on who you are to me. [Oh ayat ini sungguh berlagak, someone do come here and lempang me.]

---

Date: 090710
Location: Waterstones Piccadilly Circus.

"Hi, good afternoon. I was wondering if you have Ashley's Ashes here?"

"Good afternoon. You mean Angela's Ashes?"

"No, Ashley's." Confidently as usual.

"Please wait, I'll run through the system."

I clicked and hummed while the Waterstones guy scanned through his screen.

"I'm sorry, there's no book by the title Ashley's Ashes. What is it about?"

"It's a memoir of Frank something I forgot."

"Oh yes, Frank McCourt. Angela's Ashes." He smiled and walked around his cubicle and gestured for me to follow him.

"Oh yeah, that's his name," I smiled sheepishly. "Sorry I got the title wrong."

Chuckled. "Irish writer, isn't he?"

"Ah yes, American-Irish."

He took the book from the top shelf that was quite beyond my reach and handed it to me. "Here you go."

"Thanks, sir."

18th July: Toppled in Earl's Court

Coming down from the Kelana Convoy coach for the last time, I couldn’t see where I was stepping with all the sleeping bags I was carrying. I fell on the landing by the driver’s seat and had to break my fall with my left elbow.

It effing hurts. I couldn't straighten my elbow, lift my left arm above its level or leave it hanging/swinging in its anatomical position without cringing in pain.

Park Royal - Earl's Court. Muka penat budak-budak kaki merayap.

It was 10pm already and we were racing at Earl’s Court underground station for our 10.30pm bus at West Brompton. I stood at the bottom of the escalator and the cabin luggage I was pulling around was two landings below me.

I hoisted it up but the luggage was being painfully stubborn. I twisted to my back to hoist it up. Tugged the stubborn cabin bag up. As the steep escalator climbed steadily, I was tilted backwards and suddenly I was on my back, spread between three or four very steep steps.

Blood rushed to my head. I blinked and assessed the situation. Alhamdulillah at least the cabin luggage did not sail all the way down, nauzubillah. And me neither. Owh nice ceiling.

Okay, now get up.

I tried to but the packed Deuter Futura 32 liter hiking rucksack on my back cemented me on the ground. My right arm was flattened on my fallen side so it was useless, plus there was no space on my right to plant my palm on the ground and hoist myself up.


I tried to grab the handrail with my left but argh I can’t reach it, it was too high from my slanted prone position. The strain on my elbow throbbed from my earlier fall that morning. I could hear the two concerned Londoners behind me asking repetitively, “Are you okay?”

“I will be,” I tried to grab the handrail. “I just-” Again, trying. “-need-” Ouch my elbow hurts. “-to get up.” I’m exhausted.

Can I just lay down here?

“Can you get up?”

“I’m- Can you help me up, please?”

The lady held her hand for me to grab and ouch, stupid girl, why did you have to hurt your elbow earlier on the bus? The man pushed me from my back and after a while struggling, the tortoise was righted back on her feet.

Alhamdulillah, phew. “Thanks guys. I’m okay now.” I laughed.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” The man asked again. “Because you just sort of toppled over.”

Toppled over? I laughed at that word. Had I reminded them of a tortoise? “I am, I am. Thanks.” Smiled.

We then reached the landing and I thanked them both again. It was a really high escalator and I was on my back for quite a long time considering that I fell at the beginning and only righted up towards the end. Nisa thanked them as well. I finally noticed the two of my travelmates and Ara, Allah bless that still laughing girl, relieved me from the luggage.

---

“Lama ke aku jatuh tadi?” I asked the girls in between laughing. The man from earlier stood at the door of a carriage and looked at us in amusement. We smiled gratefully at him.

“Lama!” Ara the exaggerator. “Semua orang yang turun tu tengok~ je kau.”

We boomed out laughing in the middle of the station.

---

After what happened at Earl’s Court, I am now paranoid at taking the escalator.

When riding an escalator, make sure both of your feet are on the same step, all of the soles of your shoes planted firmly on it. Grip the handrail loosely so as not to be dragged downwards should the handrail cease moving. Face forward and don’t turn your back!

Say your prayers and try not to be so buas.