Eid 2012

Eid this year felt different from previous years. Everyone seemed more mature in thoughts, more patient with faults and flaws. More analytical too, it seems. Overheard from my bedroom my brothers and sister giving Mama an analysis of herself based on their observations. I later joined them to balance out their viewpoints. Bottomline: Each of us are unique individuals with our own unique strengths and flaws. We're meant to complement each other, not to make the other be like us.

Mama turns 60 in a week's time and she has hinted that she wants a gift - something that hasnt happened for a very long time. The last gift I bought her was an eraser from the school bookshop - it was designed like a lipstick and smells like strawberry. I really thought she'd like it - me being a little kid buying something for someone. But to my surprise, and disappointment, I was scolded for wasting my money. On hindsight, looking at myself now, I mustve been traumatised by the way she reacted and never bought her anything for her birthday (as well as anybody else's).

She added that since all of her children are all working full-time or part-time, we could get her something for her 60th.

I wonder what we should get, and how much it should cost. A couple days back, she did say that she liked the swarovski bracelet my aunt was wearing. hmm.

The End of a Chase Marks the Start of Another

Alhamdulillah. The results are finally out today and it turned out fine. After 7 semesters, I finally managed to pull up my GPA to above the 3-point mark. So come July, I'll be graduating with a 3rd Class Honours (a Class that is insignificant to most, but valuable to my mother nonetheless). When I broke the news to Mama, she hugged and kissed and was visibly much more happy than I was. SMSed my younger sister, who replied she was proud of me. Didnt got the chance to tell my younger brothers - but Im sure Mama's done that for me when they left for school.

I then looked back at life prior to today and revisit the many individuals who have been such a huge influence in my life - whether they realized it or not. I feel so thankful and grateful to have met them along the way. Life would've been different without them. May Allah reward them and their loved ones both in dunya and in the Hereafter.

I then looked forward at life henceforth. As I pack my bag for Umrah next week, it feels as though I'm moving from one life to another. I really hope that my pilgrimage will be accepted and that insyaallah, I'll come back a better person.

Alhamdulillah, a week before my leaving, I've been greeted with good grades. A week after my return insyaallah, I'll be greeted with my first job. I had agreed to start work on the 18th of June without me realizing the significance of the date. Mama pointed out that it was the day of my dad's passing 6 years ago.

6 years ago, I wrote, im only 18. But God willing, we'll sail out of this darkness together as a family. 6 years later, here I am writing on the same old blog - bursting with joy and elation inside.

“In the name of Allah, the Beneficent, the Merciful
All praise is due to Allah, the Lord of all the Worlds
The Beneficent, the Merciful,
The Master of the Day of Judgment
You alone do we worship, You alone do we ask for help
Guide us to the Straight Path,
The Path of those whom You favor, not the path of those who are astray.”
Quran (1:1-7)

Conversations with Mum

Alhamdulillah. The end of a chapter marks the beginning of another. I've written countless times that life works in mysterious ways, yet I'll say it again: Life works in mysterious ways and usually, if you think about the events that took place in life, there's usually a reason why they happen. People will usually interject and say that I'm simply overly optimistic, but that's fine by me. Mama seems to be the only one who listens with an open mind and add in her take on the stuffs I share with her.

Alhamdulillah. A job offer was made to me yesterday for the position of Project Engineer - which I duly signed after much thought. I signed on the dotted line with a clear mind and hope that this path leads me to heaven. 6 days work week may seem overwhelming, but each time I'll simply try to convince myself that I'm doing it not for myself but for those around me.

Chanced upon a quote that goes, "Good character towards mankind is that you do not burden others to achieve your own desires, but rather to burden yourself to gratify the wishes of others, as long as these do not go against the dictates of The Divine Law." I hope to start seeing work as something that helps improve my character rather than a chore. At the same time, perhaps save up for the future - just in case dearest brothers decide to further their studies. And other stuffs.

I look forward to spending nights after work at the dinner table with my Mama. I'd tell her about my day, share some stories in the hopes that she'd share some of her personal stories. All along, my brothers will be nearby listening in to our conversation as they surf the net or watch the tele; the living room is their bedroom. And I'd secretly hope that my brothers subconsciously pick up lessons and advice from these conversations and apply it to their own lives. I told her to write down her stories whenever us children are out schooling or working. I'd really like that. There's this selfish urge to write a book just to see how many books I could sell.

I look forward to nights just like tonight.

Funny, she sounds like me

Studying for exams usually makes the brain dead. It kinda sucks the life out of life. You look at your lecture notes and past year papers, trying to understand and make sense of things. Repeated attempts does not make you smarter. Time run out. You sit for the exams. Life resumes when everything ends and ends as soon as your results are out. The cycle has been repeating for the past sixteen years. I, have not lived.

Anyway, Mum's wisdom. She says she talks to my brothers about things, that includes issues her friends are facing when dealing with children, to see how they react and respond. If their response is wise and mature, she's comforted. If their response isn't, then she'll try to educate/influence/persuade them into looking at the matter from different perspectives - like from the perspective of a mother, for example.

Funny, coz she sounds just like me.

Love

To show Mama that I love her, I'd do what she wants me to, to listen to her, to avoid what she dislikes, to talk to her when I can, to make her happy, to make her proud. To show my sister I love her, I'd nag at her, and argue about things, and saying things that frustrates her. To let my brothers know that I love them, I'd tell them that I sayang them, I'd ruffle their hair, try to make small talks with them, watch soccer with them, help wash their plates, and stuffs.

Love, you're complicated.

Ramadhan

Sunday marks the start of the fasting month of Ramadhan.

Sunday night saw me praying at the mosque, next to a guy about my age. He was laughing softly to himself every once in a while, during the prayers itself. At the end of the prayers, his father would remind softly him not to make too much noise during prayers. After every prayers, he would remind his son to follow the Imam and the son would always reply that he will.

2 different lives. I can't help but put myself in their shoes. And reflect. May Allah give them strength and patience, and save them from hellfire.

Monday night saw me going to the kitchen to find my mother cutting vegetables for Sahur in around 4 hours time. Everyone else is asleep. The things mothers do behind the scenes, we often fail to realize. May Allah give her strength and reward her with Jannah for all the sacrifices she has made for the family. May my sister be somewhat like our mother. And may my future partner who's hiding in some corner of the globe be ... well, the best mother ever.

The coming of Ramadhan inevitably reminds me of my late dad. While setting up the table, I'd have to remind myself that we only need five sets of utensils, no longer 6 - even though it has been 5 years. May Allah save him from the trial of the grave and from the punishment of the Fire.

I feel sad ...

... when I forget to bring the lunch that Mama packed for me to work - knowing that she wakes up extra early just to prepare breakfast and lunch for us children.

I get annoyed ...

.... when Mama washes my pillows despite me telling her NOT to. She's the last person in the world I want to get annoyed at, but she leaves me no choice. So I told her in a serious-angry-annoyed-joking tone, "Ma, I've told you countless times and I'm reminding you again: Do NOT wash my pillows. EVER."

She laughed. I can't not be annoyed.

Happy Mothers Day

On Mothers Day, I ended up giving dear Mama a lecture on love, children and mothers and how Mothers Day is overrated and not to be jealous about other mothers being treated to dinners and gifts and stuffs.

But she knows that I was simply trying to wish her Happy Mothers Day and that I love her.

Oh Mother... Part 2

Oh Mother,

We woke up as though yesterday never happened. Over breakfast, you told me stories about your day. I analysed and gave my thoughts away. You even made reference to what I said the other day - regarding personalities and how we're all different, but it's all okay.

My brothers woke up. They had their breakfast as you talked about love - all the good, the bad and ugly that come with tt little thing called love. I listened attentively from the comforts of my room. It seems that you too were close with someone but your mother said no. You listened and let him go. You said you were sad but knew things will get better. It always does. That's life through your eyes. He got married soon after. You then met our father. Here we all are, many years later.

Oh Mother,

You then asked the brothers a rhetorical question, "What is cinta?"

From the corner of my room, as I type, I realize that's the question I should be asking myself: "What is cinta?" Then comes the dilemma - does one marry someone he loves or loves someone he marries. Guess I'll love whoever I marry, if I eventually do, insyallah.

Oh Mother,

You too said that before one thinks of marriage, one should have a couple of tens of thousands as spare change - at least! You scare us about the money involved when it comes to buying a house, having a child and the in betweens. For that, we're thankful. We'll be no fools and we'll try not to make anyone feel like one. We're definitely thinking (twice, even thrice), before we entertain the thought of falling.

Oh Mother,

Behind your endless nags lie endless priceless advice for us all. Time and time again, we fail to see this. Time and time again, we fall. We fail to see that you're not giving up on us no matter what we say or do. And I pray that we'll never give you a chance to.

Ya Allah,
Rendahkanlah suara kami bagi ibu kami
Perindahlah ucapan kami di depannya
Lunakkanlah watak-watak kami terhadapnya
dan
Lembutkan hati kami untuknya.

Ya Allah,
Berilah ibu dan arwah ayah kami balasan yang sebaik-baiknya,
atas didikan mereka pada kami,
dan Pahala yang besar bagi mereka,
atas kesayangan yang mereka limpahkan padaku,
peliharalah mereka sebagaimana mereka telah memeliharaku.

Ya Allah,
Apa saja gangguan yang telah mereka rasakan
atau
kesusahan yang mereka deritakan kerana kami,
atau
hilangnya sesuatu hak mereka kerana perbuatan kami,
jadikanlah itu semua penyebab susutnya dosa-dosa mereka
dan
bertambahnya pahala kebaikan mereka,
dengan perkenan-Mu ya Allah,
hanya
Engkaulah yang berhak membalas kejahatan
dengan kebaikan berlipat ganda.

Sesungguhnya
Engkaulah yang Maha Pengasih lagi Maha Penyayang.

Amin Ya Rabbal Alamin.

Oh Mother...

"We have enjoined on man and woman (to be good) to his/her parents; show gratitude to Me and to thy parents; to Me is (thy final) Goal. If they (parents) strive to make thee join in worship with Me things of which thou hast no knowledge, obey them not; yet bear them company in this life with justice (and consideration) and follow the way of those who turn to Me (in love)" (31:14-15)

A man came to the Prophet and said, ‘O Messenger of God! Who among the people is the most worthy of my good companionship? The Prophet said: Your mother. The man said, ‘Then who?' The Prophet said: Then your mother. The man further asked, ‘Then who?' The Prophet said: Then your mother. The man asked again, ‘Then who?' The Prophet said: Then your father. (Bukhari, Muslim)

"Thy Lord hath decreed that ye worship none but Him, and that ye be kind to parents. Whether one or both of them attain old age in thy life, say not to them a word of contempt, nor repel them, but address them in terms of honor. And out of kindness, lower to them the wing of humility, and say: ‘My Lord! bestow on them Thy Mercy even as they cherished me in childhood' "(17:23-24)

As the clock struck 11pm, the four of us wondered where our mother was. She went out earlier in the afternoon with some of the aunts and we kinda expected her to be back by 11pm latest. We got kinda worried. What if she fainted along the way back? Robbed or stabbed? And then we heard her salam.

She entered the house. Some small talks. Followed by endless naggings (the house wasnt exactly neat and tidy) and naturally, unnecessary rude reactions from all four of us. I'd like to think that such reactions make me human but ... sigh.

Some mornings, during breakfast, I'd deconstruct my sister for my mum. As I seek to understand her, I hope my mum do too. I find that one tries hard to be nice while the other just don't seem to be bothered. Sometimes, I too analyze my mum somewhat. I told her that she ought to choose her words carefully coz sometimes, her words only evokes rage in the people around her ie. us. And if I were to analyze my brothers, I'd say that they ought to understand and conform to our mother's style and not the other way round. Or should it be the other way round? I don't know. Sometimes, I just feel like giving up coz it's just so hard.

I don't think Im doing my job right as the eldest. And if i can't do this right, how can I do any other thing right? This feeling sucks - especially when I know mothers should be treated alot better.

Imagine...

My brothers have left home on a short 4 days trip organised by their school. It's only day 1 and the house feels pretty quiet. My sister wouldn't be home till later and if I were to be in school right now, the house would be eerily silent. Mama would be all by herself.

I can only imagine what it'll be like should my brothers really pursue a career in the marine industry. They'd be away from home for months, to say the least. I wonder if Mama can cope with that. If I were her, there's no knowing when I'd cry coz the feeling of being alone .... sucks much?

What if what if what if I were to pursue a career abroad? What then?

I can only imagine how she feels. I feel for all mothers. I wonder if dads feel the same way too.

The Fourth Second Day of Eid

"Ma, can you walk faster?"

"Ma, can you please stand behind the yellow line?"

"Ma, can you let the people in the train alight first?"

"Ma, can we please not take the bus?"

"Ma, can we just wait and ask the taxi driver if he'd take the five of us?"

"Ma, can you walk under the shelter?"

"Ma, hurry up."

"Ma, can you just wait?"

"Ma, can you not do that?"

"Ma, ...."

"Ma, don't do that."

"Ma, it's irritating."

"Ma, please."

"Ma, people are watching."

"Ma..."

"Ma!"

"MAMA...!"

Sometimes we forget that she's the woman who's responsible for the individuals we are today. We forget that she cannot walk at lightning speed. Or walk four flights of stairs. Or walk the seemingly short distance. We forget the countless of taxi rides she must've avoided in order to provide us with the coins for our school meals. We forget the countless of times we must've embarrassed her when we cried in public or vomit on the bus. We forget the countless of times she told us to pray on time, to wake up early, to do this and this and that - yet, we never listen. Sighs. The things we forget.

"Mama, please bear with us just a little bit more. We may think and feel we're old enough, and we know more than you do but really, do we really? We don't."

Happy Birthday Mother

You know mum's feeling alot better when you realize that she remembers today's her birthday while I, on the other hand, errrr.... completely genuinely cleanly forgot. I had to ask her how old she is for I never took note of her age. I'm fine telling myself she's fifty something forever.

I received a farewell gift yesterday. It was my last day of work. As soon as I reached home late that night, the little boy in me immediately went to my mama's room to show her what I got. She saw the box, and sat up excitedly. The smile on her face. It's felt like a long time since I saw that smile.

The box. The smile. The excitement. Oh no!

"Ma... no no no. I'm sorry! This isn't yours. It's mine and I just wanted to show it to you. Oh man.... I forgot. It's your birthday isn't it? I forgot!!"

It surprises me though how happy a gift can make one feel. The gift I received made me feel touched. And I know I almost made my mum feel likewise. I'll make it up to her somehow. I've got something in mind. (:

Conversations with God

After a timely wake-up call yesterday morning, I made my way to the mosque that night. I stayed back all the way till the end to listen to the minutes-turn-hour long tazkirah. What he said moved me. The fact that he's a young imam yet so eloquent in arabic moved me. I remember being younger wanting to be like the young imams that read oh-so-beautifully. I know I still do wanna be like them. I need to change. I want to. So help me God.

It's been a long long time since I had conversations with God. Apparently, the best time to have conversations with God is deep into the night.... say around 3-4am. But what do I do? I don't think I've got much to ask or say to him.

Today, I woke up early for tuition only to find mum lying on the couch. She usually continues her sleep on the couch after morning prayers. I later came back to find her still lying on the couch. I found it weird. Perhaps she's tired. I switched on the telly and opened the windows in the living room - her constant coughing was disturbing and I didnt want germs to linger. The living room got brighter. Afterall, it was already noon. She got up and went to her bedroom. I thought she'd probably wash up and do what she usually do. However, she remained in bed till about 10pm.

She refused to eat much when it was time to break her fast. I asked if she wanted some bread, a banana, anything. She simply shook her head. Took a sip of tea and went back to bed. I realised late on in the day that the youngest brother of mine was down with fever when I saw him covered with a cold wet towel. Touched his body and that kid was hot. He ate half a slice of bread for break fast.

I sat at the dinner table feeling helpless. Mum in bed. The brother refusing to eat much. What was I to do? It's times like this that I wish Dad's still around. He'll know what to do. He'll probably drive them both to the clinic or something. How do I look after an ill mother, or my ill brother?

I remembered some words from yesterday's tazkirah - to seek help from Him. I realized I've been taking things for granted one too many times. I forgot to be grateful. The people around me, our health ... these can be taken away from us at any time. Dear God, I believe I've learnt my lesson. I shall seek to have conversations with you this Ramadhan and beyond. I hope mother and brother get well soon.

I Love You

It's been a long while since I wrote. I've been stuck in camp for the past 5 days and will be for most of the next 14. But here's a quick one to clear the cobwebs from this space of mine.

I called mama once during the past few days. She ended the call with "I love you." I only managed an "mmmmm". The kind of "mmmm" you'll give one your mum kisses you and say I love you in front of your other friends when you're a kid.

It's hard for guys to say I love you. It's hard for me to say I love you. Or "Sayang mama". I don't know why. Sometimes, it's hard to say some of the things I really want to say. The messages from the heart seems destined to reside forever in my heart.

I do love you too. And I know you know that I do.

The Call

Today's the day when my sister called and told dear Mother she's secured a full time job! Finally, someone in the family's bringing back home real money. The brothers will be starting their polytechnic education real soon so the timing couldn't have been better. Alhamdulillah.

2 years. 2 years to financial stability, insyaallah.

The Golden Necklace

As the bright star danced across the dark night sky, a boy wished his dad could come back home for just one day to celebrate his 56th birthday.

Tonight, I made my way back home as always. Same route. Same time. And I walked past that same jewelery store. The only difference was my thoughts.

I thought of the day when I'd buy someone something - a ring or a necklace, anything - and I wondered who that someone would be. But immediately I remembered my promise to Mama many many years ago when I was a boy. I think I kinda promised her to get a piece of gold jewelery on display at a jewelery store we were at. I told her that I'll get it for her one day when I grow up and have a salary of my own. Silly boy must've thought that he'd never grow old.

I'm old. As old as my dad now. And today being his birthday, the only thing on my mind was him reminding us children to make Mama happy. So remind me to get Mama that golden necklace when I do one day get anyone anything from a jewelery store.

(Draft 1. Mind's in a mess.)

The Idiot...

I had written a long piece. We had just reached Malacca. I was finishing up my LAST sentence when my phone automatically restarted. A little over 1000 words vanished in an instant! Countless kilometers/three hours of thoughts!! I felt like an idiot! I felt like throwing my phone away and never write again. The feeling of losing something that I wrote really sucked especially after I gave so much thoughts and emotions into it. argh!

But I told myself that we learn from mistakes. We should immediately assess the situation and see the next best thing that can be done. I took a deep breath and typed away the last thing I remembered - the final line.

I then retraced my steps and typed the main points of what I wrote. It's been a short but lovely trip. A long day and I'm tired. Therefore, I shall reconstruct my first Nokia E63 piece first thing in the morning.

The next morning,

Looking at the scenery along the NS highway, I can't help but think about things. I'm with mum, my aunt and my uncle on an urgent trip to Malacca. It's been a while since I sat in a car up this highway. Many things have changed since then. The Immigration Checkpoints, the roads, the route, the buildings, the view. But then, I realized that perhaps I'm the one who's changed a lot since then.

It definitely feels weird as I'm writing this entry. Firstly, I've never written anything in a moving car before. Secondly, I've never written an entry when my mama's just beside me. She must be thinking I'm typing one heck of an SMS. Thirdly, the driver's not my dad. Fourthly, I'm the only kid in the car. Fifthly, my siblings are not with me. I'm feeling pretty alone and when I'm alone, that's usually when my mind begins to wonder. Perhaps that's how you sometimes feel.

We just had breakfast and conversation revolved around children and their future. It feels weird to be sitting in an adult conversation. And I'm finding myself sitting in an adult conversation pretty often lately.

My aunt shared something she heard from perhaps the radio. She said parents should never have the feeling of expecting something in return from their children. She added that the responsibility of parents is different from that of the children and that parents should be grateful that their children thinks about them. My mum didn't quite agree but she admitted that looking at today's context, perhaps what my aunt said was true.

Like my mum, I didn't quite agree with what my aunt shared. I think it's my responsibility as child to give back whatever I can to my mum - to just make her happy. Thinking about her just isn't enough. But as I looked at the thoughts I'm currently having - school, stress, results, frisbee, floorball, soccer, my future - I realized I haven't been thinking about my mum much lately. And once I've graduated, I'll most probably be shifting my thoughts to work, stress, the one and marriage so hopefully, I'll remember mum as I think about those things.

It strikes me that parents think about their children ALL the time. The things they do, they do it for us. I hope that us children will do the same for our parents, and in future, our own children.

I'm never one who rewrites the same thing twice so the above is only a fraction of my original piece. For some weird reason, I forgot what came before the final line. Really. Perhaps it's a good thing too that my phone restarted - I was starting to write using more of my heart and less of my brain. Here's the final line:

Ive been told by some that my entries have a voice. And if what they say is true, I hope you know I'm talking to you.

Numb3rs

If only I could somehow love numbers more than words ....

Seeing my mother asking me twice if I wanted anything to drink while I revise my work and seeing my younger brother coming back from his first day of job assessment and complaining how much he hates having to stand for 8 hours doing something boring, I realize that I can find reasons to keep on going.

It was funny though how he expressed his hatred for work and how he doesnt feel like working anymore. At least now he knows the true value of money.