Tuesday, April 15, 2008


School days meant rainy days
No matter how brightly shone the sun was
Or drizzle or rains or cool cloudy days
No matter how early or late we arrived
She would surely be in tears

For this little queen of hearts
Every moment in the car
On the way to school was ever so worrying
No one really knew what the matter was
For only this little queen knew

Trot, trot, trot
Both mummy and little queen walked
Up the steps under a huge tree
Few more steps, soon they arrived
Into her classroom they got

Comfortably seated with her bag on the chair
Mummy left with contented heart
To the parked car under the tree
Soon to find this little queen
At the same time arrived beside the car

Wow! Fuming mummy got, under the hot sun
How did this little queen raced with her
Crying and crying wanting to leave
School was no fun!
Or! Something must have bothered her

Persuation under the scortching midday sun
Was deffinitely no fun for mummy
Fumes and sweats running down fast
Still the little queen was uncooperative
Mummy had to climb the steps

Up they got into her classroom
This time, she was even cleverer
She let mummy leave with happy heart
But the next victim yet to expect
There she stood outside another classroom

Crying out loud, looking and searching
Abang Hafiz was the next victim
Embarased as he got
Trot, trot, trot, out he got
Little slap on her face he gave

What! The most patient person?
Had given a slap in her face?
Oh dear, what's the matter be oh dear
What shall the matter be oh dear
For "D" had cried in school...

Such episodes lasted for eight months
Year one was really tough in primary school
Oh, but that was not all

Year one in the secondary school
Earned her another nickname
"Ning Yatimah" was the most fitted name
For my queen of hearts
Each time she went into the office

Words were locked in her mouth
Tears flowed freely down her beautiful face
The teachers knew too well each time
She arrived to inform her

Congratulations! By the fifth year
This queen of hearts was rewarded
With the Best Student for Co-cariculum
Despite those tearful days

Sunday, April 13, 2008


Brightly colored blouse
Attracted Harith's attentions
From being sleepy and making small cries
He suddenly showed a happy face..

His smile was broad and long lasting
As though he had met Wan Jam once before
Yes, Of course you did Harith
On your third day of birth

Wan Jam had paid you a visit..
Remember? Nope. Never mind
But it sent you, Mama and Papa
For three nights in the University Hospital
Sleeping under the blue lights

Anyway, Wan Jam really has ways with you
Your smile was so charming ..
Since it was prayer time
Up we went into my room
Sorry, we had to place you on the bed

Yes, keep smiling Harith
Wan Jam is taking pictures of you
You like it don't you?..
You chuckled when Wan herself did it

She tickled you with her nose
Few times on your tummy
You like it? Yes, surely
Anyway Harith, 'tis time to leave you..

We are going to Wan Na's house
To meet the rest of your Wans
And to have a good look of Wan Alah
She has just arrived from Australia
We have not seen each other for so long..

Might she have changed
Or still remaining the same?
Everyone was asking how Harith is
See Harith, you already have some pals

When we got home late evening
You were getting ready to go..
Good night Harith
Enjoy your night over at Uchi's place
We shall meet again tomorrow night
And hear your "fifth gear" cries
this time the paragraph simply don't function


Dear Lara,
I have intently read what you wrote in those lenghthy letters some time ago. But eversince, I have kept it away locked in my memories and have not shared your stories with anyone. This time, since I have become a blogger, perhaps you wouldn't mind at all, me sharing with them what you wrote to me. LET ME just BEGIN WITH this one.

"The day was rudely awaken with the news of someone was sending my beloved and only son away to a boarding school, far, far, away from me. The least to be expected. My good intention and sincere deed was smeared with such a treatment. It was not even informed, the least discussed with me at all. The father had made the decision and he had actually went against the Children's Act...forcing our son against his will.

Earlier efforts proved futile when his father's lawyer "told" me to ask my lawyer to write a letter that evening, protesting about sending Adam away. The letter was to state, he should not be allowed out the place of his domicile and should be schooling near his family. What a disgust! The letter was hastily done, was delivered through the fax, AND was stonely and daftly ignored until today by this lawyer..... Some lawyers.

Adam was going to a boarding school? Whose idea it was? When did he apply for a place? Who were behind the scam? Lara, this sounds too familiar. Separating a mother from her son, separating a daughter from a mother...They are the work of the insane. I meant well, upon the divorce agreement to let our son be with his father so that the father has a company. No one cared about my sincerity. It was far from being appreciated.

Upon hearing the news, my two daughters had tried their best to persuade their father not to send Adam to the boarding because he has actually started schooling in the area where we lived. Adam even had written a letter (because they were incommunicado) protesting about going away from the family...the then newly broken up family. But to avail.

The letter was totally ignored. All efforts by the two sisters were scorfed off. Early morning of that fateful day, Adam was bundled with much reluctance , into the car. How could anyone of sound mind do this? Adam could hardly manage himself. What more to wash clothes, shoes and what ever else. Only Allah The Almighty knew how this poor young boy felt at that time. None of us could ever imagined his feelings. He may have cried alone, in silent, besides the driver, the heartless man in his life. I never have asked him to tell (until today), afraid that the whole incident would upset and distraught him. Causing him to be disturbed in his studies.

Day one in school/early life away from home:
6.30 a.m. "Assalamualaikum Mama. Adam do not like schooling here. I want to go home. Please come and fetch me. I missed everyone at home".
words spoken are actually more elaborate

Day two:
6.20 a.m. "Mama, please, when are you coming to feth me?"
"Adam, I cannot simply get you pout of there because we have to go through the court to change custody"....

Day three:
6.30 a.m." Mama, when are you coming? I want to go home and with my family. I don't want to be schooling here"...
Months of endurance...of such telephone calls, more followed. Could you imagine, how finely shredded my heart was every morning listening to my son's calls. They were not calls of the home sick little boy. They were the desperate calls of a son being cruelly forced to be separated.

By the third month...
"Mama, when is your lawyer going to get the matter into the court? I have no more patience left. I want to go home and be schooled there."
"Adam, be patient ok. She would file it soon."

Months of early morning calls that followed were answered with the vary magical and hopeful words of "be patient, Allah is with us. Soon you would be with Mama and the rest of us here", faithfully said like a parrot...long distance parrot. It then became routine and phone calls were very much expected. Torn hearts were conversing with tears welled up in their eyes, voices were trembling, begging tonations, not noticed and known by anyone but Allah. And ...I was sure the moment he woke up each morning, the next thing to do after his morning prayer, was to call Mama. Listening to Mama's voice.

One day, I flew over and went to see him in school. While he was walking towards me, he seemed floating and not firmly on the ground. What has happened to my handsome little boy? He did not seem to be his old self anymore. The deep sunken face that showed tense and worries were visibly prominent. The moment I arrived, the whole bunch of school teachers knew. They soon informed his father's family member who in turn informed his father. The kind and very friendly school head invited us into his office. Adam's file was produced. Apparently, so many people in the "gang of the father" had helped to get him into this school. Familiar names were mentioned.

Needless to say...deep in my heart...I was cursing each and everyone that were involved in the scam. So, he had obtained help to get a place for Adam in this school? When I got home, I received a copy of the letter sent to the school head by his father. Shame to mention. Such an intellectual person, of high education, has so low dignity and very narrow, wicked mind. His mind was full of vengeance.

Apparently, he wrote there, I (a mad person) went to cause chaos and havoc to the school and I was even shameful to repeat some of the undescribable words used and written. Why? Simply because I do not have to such a low profile personality. How could such a person has such a heart? His ill intentions were clearly potrayed. It was to get me really "mad" (gone bonkus) in the process of separation.

Allah The Almighty was ever so Great. He showered me with Rahmat and Rahim and never turned me "mad" like how he had wanted me to be. He Blessed me greatly and protected me from having such ill feelings as to separate any children from him. Allah showered me with the inner force, inner strength, strong will power, stable mind and most of all He Loved me more because the "tests" which were so intense were bearable.

I perservered the ordeal through and through until the day the court was in session. Then little secrets were let loose. He might not know that everyone in the court observed his wierd character. Needless to mention in greater details how he had looked like...but certainly wierd, inhuman and scary. I too wonder what these means.

During the session (as it was held in the Learned Judge's Chamber) in the presence of the two lawyers and his father, Adam gave adverse answeres to the day before when was asked by my family members. Only Allah knew too well what went on. Never mind that. He won the case but neither did I loose it. As soon as the trial was over, he left without taking Adam home with him. Disgusting! What was he trying to do? Rediculing the law, the court or fooling himself?

That night we never slept a wink. I kept asking Adam,
"Why did you answer the reverse of what you had wanted to say all these while?".
His answer was simply,
" I don't know. He had wanted me to say".

The next day, I felt feverish and drousy from the lack of sleep. Did he know what he had actually done to us?
A week later, Adam "sang" his happy song. Miraculously... Allah sent me the message. Adam has just come out if IT. He was hypnotised while on the way from the airport to the court room. No wonder his answers were unheard of and so unbecoming.

Lara, as I am writing this story of yours, my heart is shattered. But Lara, remain brave, have Faith in Allah, always turn to Him for Help and remember this...Allah shall always answer your prayers because prayer of persons in disparity and victims of ill-doings are accepted and answered by Allah without delays. Amin Ya Rabbil'alamiiiiiin.
Try to forgive those wrong doers from now on because you would then be better Blessed.

Thursday, April 10, 2008


When all were packed, we left our house to go to the City Campus for registration. The journey must have been an exciting one for Hafiz and so it was for me. Tasha and Diyanah came along. My third child is going to the university. He did very well in his exam to earn such a place. Well done, son! The best student in his former school was a girl with 12A1. That might have earned her a place in a university abroad. Before he received his UPU results, he was accepted into UNITEN. So we went to pay for his registration to secure the placement. Just incase his applications through UPU, failed, he could persue his study there. I told him, should he get a place in any other universities, he was free to choose. When another offer came, from UTM, he made his choice.

Dressed in a pressed long sleeve maroun shirt and long pants, he looked so smart and matured for a first year student. Some new friends he met, thought that he was working prior to registring into the university. The registration started with a briefing given to the students and their parents. It was some useful information disbursed for the parents to know and for the students to follow. It was a long process of going from one office into another, paying the fees, getting the T- Shirts for the orientation week, getting the hostel room and all sorts of information for the orientation week.

Once the room key was given, we went up with all the belongings which not to forget among others were pails, hangers, shoes and books besides the luggage full of clothes. We met his room mate and his parents who were there earlier. His room mate lived very nearby. His parents said, he could go home every week end. Jokingly Hafiz told them, " I would only go home in three years time (once graduated).

Carefully sorting out, everything were placed on the floor. We opened the locker ( a tall cupboard with no locks), dusted it and started to unpack. Clothes, personal belongings, books and AND...something struck me HARD!!!!!!!!!My heart flipped. I caught a glimpse of something familiar. It was carefully placed on the top shelf of his locker right inside as though it was so precious.

It was given to him five years back and he did not even use it, perhaps he treasured it so much or he was afraid it might have got lost in school. He must have kept it in the house all those years while in boarding school. Perhaps it was the only gift ever received from me for his success in all those years??? I could not remember. I could recall his sister had given him an expensive watch for "getting" a place in that boarding school.

The Sheafer Ball Pen was in a red box. It was a special gift from his mom to him. It touched my heart deeply thinking that he had carefully kept it away all these years, without using it until he entered this university. He brought it along? It was meant to be used, right? The ball pen was an expensive ball pen to him. When I asked him "Didn't you use it all these while?" He said " No". I did not ask further for his reasons but deep down I felt he had tresured his mom's gift so much. It must have meant a lot to him. Tears secretly filled my eyes. Never have I thought my son was so grateful for this little gift. I brushed away my tears with a heart that was slightly crushed and touched.

This time I have actually bought him another set of writing pens and all. It was a boxed gift. Again, by the time I am writing this, it already aged three years. But the much treasured Sheafer Ball Pen was brought along too. He took it along with him although it was five years old. But it looked asnew because it never have left its red box and perhaps was never really used. He may have tried writing with it but decided to keep it away until such time when it was ready to be used.

A few months later, I asked him if the ink were still there, and he said, "The ink is finished". So I bought him a refill. Three years have passed since the day I saw the then five year old ball pen in his locker. Meaning today, it has reached its eighth year of being with its owner, the faithful and grateful Hafiz, my son.

This part was edited on the 18th May 2008

Mummy has treasured so many things too, Hafiz. The day CS was performed on me to let Hafiz out into this world and grew up, was the most unforgettable and most treasured event of my life! Wednesday the 20th of May 1987, Prof. Rechagan (the best Gynae in UH) met me on my normal ante-natal check up. I was sent up on to the first floor for ECG test. The young Chinese Lady showed the graph which I did not instantly quite understand. It looked so deep like a very wide frying pan. Prof. broke the news even before I managed to find a chair to sit. By the time he finished, I found this dark blue hilly bucket chair and slumped on it. Shock razed through my spine! What a word, it was like a taboo to me... Two days later, much to my wonder if you were perfectly born, healthy, hungry or, or, or racing through my mind. No one turned up by my bedside, for me to ask! Weird. I did not know what had actually happened. Finally, Prof. turned up and with his handsome smile, leisurely told me about 'foetal distress". What?

This cute little boy was full of life and zest. Little did he know, how did he come to this earth. He missed the "early" mother's milk that contained colostrum. Never mind all that, alhamdulillah what matters most was he was born alive. He came out blue and was in the incubator for those hours on ends. A miracle baby? Yes, he was. The night before, I was holding this book on pregnancy but missed the page on "foetal distress". The chart that was given to me was to monitor and to count the baby's movement up to the count of 24?? But there was no warnings or reminders of any "excessive movements"!

Hafiz, as much as you treasured IT, I have also treasured every little bit of memories that is still fresh in my mind since 1999....all the happenings... The bitter and happy memories of which you and I knew too well to forget.

Here we are, 20th May 2008...Happy Birthday Hafiz. May Allah Blesses, Guides, Protects, Showers you with Hidayah, Taufiq, Nur Illahi, Perseverance, Patience, Strength of Will Power, Faith and Taqwa and most of all Blesses you to be obedient and "anak yang soleh to me" on this earth and hereafter. Amin, Amin, Amin Ya Robbil 'Alamin.

for a couple of days now, I have not been successful in trying to make paragraphs appear to be "paragraphs"...help?

Sunday, April 6, 2008


The sky seemed so clear when I arrived home from a class that was conducted at IYC in Cheras, K.Lumpur. Getting my lunch ready was not so difficult. It was my half left-over Seafood Croissant that was meant for dinner last night. Had the first half at breakfast this morning, leaving another half in the fridge. Filing up my tummy was no big deal. Still have sufficient space to put another bowl of Maggi Mee. Indeed it was as easy to prepare as to pronounce its name. Oyster mushrooms were shredded finely and put into the boiling fish stock. The Mee and its spice went in next. Just a twist of few stirs, in jumped a hard boiled "century egg". When ready, it was not even shared with my house mate...who happens to be my daughter, Cik Za, as Harith was supposed to address her, later.

Last night's blogging kept me awake until 4.00 a.m. I was feeling full and sleepy after my lunch. So, off I went upstairs and took a nap. By about five o'clock, the sky was dark, clouds of dark gray shrowded above my head. Soon after, thunders were heard, lightnings struck wildly and fiercely. Heavy torrential fall filled up the space. It was such a heavy fall that drains and flat areas were soon over filled with waters. It scared me somehow, incase the water get into the house. I had two bad previous experiences with floods. The most recent one was slightly over two years ago......

The area where we once lived was next to the river. That vary night, at 3.00a.m the unusual loud thunder strom woke me up. Seemed like the worse of the thunders ever heard in my life. Since I have not done my prayers, I performed solat sunat hajat as well. The prayer was for our safety against flood incase the river bank would get overflowed. I prayed hard, (just incase the erosion had taken place and hold our road hanging on nothing) hoping we would have time
to save ourselves. The rest was God willing.

About forty five minutes later, I went to my son's bedroom and looked out of the window. Our Imam was sounding his car horn to wake us up because the retention wall was over flowed with flood water. I could not see the river clearly because it was very dark. But from the shadows of passing cars, I managed to get a glimpse of how swollen it was. The Imam's call was intense that I woke my children up. All papers from my work place were hastily carried upstairs and neatly stacked on the stairs.

Now its our cars that have to be driven out onto a higher ground. Luckily the three of them could drive. Off they went while I still busily salvaging whatever I could get my hands on to. It was five o'clock when a friend who lived further inside the area called and informed us her cars were already drowned. So, the flood water from the row behind us, had gone inwards and filled those houses. It was indeed a rude awakening for those who were in their most deep sleep. Some house owners were unfortunately away on week end that no one could help at all. Everything were drown in their houses waiting for their returns to clear up the debris. It was a sea of flood.

By 5.30a.m. my three children were not back yet. I just wondered what had happened to them but deep inside I kept praying for their safety BUT should the worse were to happen, I leave it to Allah to handle and give me the patience and strength to face it. An hour later, they returned home safely with so many stories and bread in their hands. Alhamdulillah they were safe.

Our washing machine and fridge were put on platforms and gas tanks, helped by our Indian neighbours. It was almost 6.00 a.m. It was the time that never stood still and never froze. The flood water has arrived, gently, slowly filling the drains outside, advancing into out compound under the mango tree, reaching the walkway, then finally through the kitchen door in they came. Through the sliding door, they finally found their gentle way and settled on the first two steps. We just let the cooker on the floor, the wooden furniture intact, plates and saucers were left to drown. We could clean them later once the flood water receded.

By lunch time, the volunteers cooked some meals and distribute them to the flood victims. Some of the flood victims' relatives were seen busy helping and transporting them out of the area. SMSs kept pouring in soon after the news was aired on all TV stations. My sisters from as far as Terengganu called to find out how we were. Friends and relatives nearby called to find out how we were getting on. Then our cousin called us to have lunch at her restaurant nearby. Electricity was cut off to prevent trippings. That caused great problems to those houses with automatic gates. Their cars were drown. Imagine the content of the house that were soaked in the flood waters. So, we walked through the murky flood water that was as high as our thigh. On the way to the shop, I was talking to God from deep inside me.

"O, Allah, I must have been a sinner that my solat hajat early this morning, was not answered and we were also affected by the flood although much later than the rest of the neightbours."

But then again, who am I? I am not an angle as to escape floods. As soon as we reached the restaurant and the shoplots, our Quran teacher, came and told me her house was practically drown with nothing could be saved. They only had clothes on their back. The water was wall high. So was the house of the Imam that woke us up. They were right one-lane behind us. Miraculously our house was not badly affected, alhamdulillah.

"So, Allah, alhamdulillah syukur my prayer was answered". Miracle, yes, it was indeed.

By evening, people were seen busy cleaning their house . We let them clean first. The water supply would have been slow then. By about 6.30p.m., we started cleaning our house. It was quite easy to clean the floor. First we cut up the five year old dark blue carpet and threw them out. Then mopped the floor a few times. The cleaning of plates and saucers were tidious. There were sediments stuck there. Apart from the shoe cupboard, nothing was spoilt. The other cupboards were not spoilt at all. They were my old office furniture that I bought from Afiah Trading funiture shop. They were made from good woods.

The next two days were clearing of debris outside and sorting out papers to be discarded. We decided not to cook but instead, got the supplies from the mosque nearby. That was the second flood incident we had encoutnered.

So, back to today's heavy fall... it was scary when the thunders were so strong and lightnings striked fiercely. When I looked out, the neighour's compound looked like a carpet of water. The waters from the house uphill rushing into their compound like waterfalls. I could imagine some place else must have been flooded. Our SMART tunnel must have been shut down to prevent floods in the City Centre. By about 6.30p.m. the rain began to slow down a bit. The "flood" in our compound seem to recede. They must have gone down hill.

Alhamdulillah, by maghrib time, it was all quiet, calm and peaceful like there never was any thunderstorms. By the time prayer was done, I got ready for dinner with Rizal, Tasha and her in-laws
to celebrate promotions at work, Rizal's dad new appoinment with a foreign company that was supposed to be in Jakarta and for his farewell. We went to Marche` Movenpick at the Curve.

On returning home, as usual the urge to write in this blog got on to me. Thanks to AG aka Wan A.Hulaimi who was the author of GUiT for indirectly initiated and drove me to create my blog and thriving on it.

Must publish this story first, I just don't want to see the monkey being on top of my blog longer that two days now. I shall edit this story the next time I log in.

Wednesday, April 2, 2008


Probably similar "visitor" had landed in our compound....I cannot recognise each n everyone...

That was not the only isolated episode when monkeys invaded our compound. Much earlier, I have already written about them. But this time, they split into groups, clever monkeys. You know why they are so very clever? Because they probably have "graduated" from the university nearby.

This time, the group is pretty violent and their sizes are enormous. Some carrying young newborns, some are male, naturally. The playful ones are doing sommersault on the ground and playing atop the roofs as well as our garden light. The pole now is shaky and they do not seem to give any bother because they enjoy playing on it. One would climb up while another pull its tail forcing it down. They seem to take their turn to reach the top.

Doesn't it sound like I am living next to the zoo or monkey sanctuary? It is right in the middle of urban living but they do not seem to have choices of leaving this hideout. Every corner is full of houses, condominiums and of course the prime university next door. They even invaded the campus's hostels, ransacking the students' rooms, bins and sit on people's cars each evening like their own. Practically, every nook and corner of the greens that are found within our vacinity, are automatically their "home".

This afternoon, the new group of bigger sized monkeys were on our roofs, planters box and on the grills of our sliding door. They appeared hungry. So, I told Harith's mom, sometimes I felt like going to the market and buy ripe bananas and bring home for them. But morden markets do not keep old and unwanted bananas. They only keep the ones ready for sale.

Anyway, I have my washing outside to bring in. So, slowly I opened the back door and kept wondering where they might have been. Half the load was taken inside without much interruptions. Suddenly I heard "pouring" rain from the roof!..OPs! It was one of the four big monkeys above my head that "showered" the roof. WoW! That was close. Scary as I was, I called out for Tash to shut the kitchen door. While I rushed to the front door. But I couldn't go in just yet. They were on the roof top, close to me. They gave me the creeps as I passed them.

Quickly I ran into the house. Not long after, "bang". Something fell off. Then I noticed they started invading my potted plants and creeping big money plants. The full grown money plants were gone within minutes, nicely chewed including some herbal plants. The remains were left on the car top . When they were gone (they were only next door to work on their litter bins), I crept out and saw my big pot was broken. The pieces are in the drain...

The plactic chairs stacked outside were also invaded. When they fell to the ground, the rude nosie woke Harith up. Already afternoon naps are difficult and problem time for him, this makes it worse. There he goes, "wek, wek, wek, ahek!". So, I summoned his mama who has just finished her zohor prayer. Before Harith's noise goes up to "fifth gear" she has to come to the rescue.

My! That was a tiring "monkey business" indeed.