THE KNOCKING ON MY DOOR AT 6.15 A.M

It was 6.15 a.m , azan subuh went unheard by me due to the lack of sleep from the constant visits to UH. Sunday night was the night. I was practically, barely a wink away, when an urgent call sent me scrambling for decent and appropriate clothes to rush to the University Hospital. It has just passed 12 midnight.


I drove through to UH without much hassle since there were not many traffics on the road at this time of night. I brave through the empty parking lots, half running, a quarter walking and the other quarter went panting for breath. There were no security guards around but I hold my faith to Allah and put my security in His safe hands while braving through the corridor. Imagine, this not so large and not so huge size, trying to run with my long skirt and huge dark blue T-Shirt....


Like Florence Nightingale...I found my way to U716 on the seventh floor in no time. Seated on this huge dark green chair, I quickly opened and read Surah Yasin. No questions asked, no answers were required in return.


Dutifully I kept reading like a marathon that I once before had in the year 2004 with Beebe (La Vie en Rose), (my twin born from different wombs and a partner in crime) when her dear sweet loving mother was ailing and had passed on in the early morning hours of around 4 a.m. It happened in a different wing, a private wing, of this same University Hospital. She was sadly missed. Al Fatihah to her. Amin. AG the distinguished author of GUiT once wrote in my comment column (when he dropped by to see how I was thriving with this blog), that he had dropped by and recited Al Fatihah on her grave while passing through Kubur Sheikh Ibrahim in Kuala Terenggnu, on his way to his mother's graveyard. Thank you AG.


This time, at U716 room, no one dared sleeping. So, each of us went on with our different tasks till the wee hours of the morning. While Sharifah Nazehah was busy reciting LA ILA HA ILLALLAH repeatedly into her mom's ears, Sharifah Nor Madiah was wiping away her face with air zam zam. Me and Fuad, we took turns to read Surah Yasin.


By the time I reached home it was after 6 o'clock in the morning. Tried to catch some sleep and then woke up to look after Amir Harith. Since Monday, other nights were spent in UH for several hours and then returned home to bed.

That was the only way to repay her kindness to me since the year 1975 when we first met in Kemaman as neighbors and prescribe in Special Dedication To The Lady VIP... Such lacking in sleep which had accumulated since, sent me into my deepest doze in the nights that followed.


31.07.08
Suddenly, "Knock, Knock! Mummy, mummy the house uphill in front of us was robbed!".


Quickly I grabbed hold of my hand phone and tried calling the listed numbers of the security guards that were with me in the same vicinity as in The Sound That Never Was...coincidently, the same house that we kept under surveillance for some hours the last two Mondays, is now the apparent victim. The front glass window was broken, the hardy metal grill that was installed during the colonial time was bravely pierced opened and the rest was history. They left with their loot without any interruptions.


From the time I called the guards, until the day was dawning, no one had come by until 7.30a.m. It was like the call was nothing of importance to them. They did not react on the double as the crime happened...this is normal for SG in this vicinity.


Even when doubled checked with them about The Sound That Never Was, the head of crime said to me (quote and unquote)


" We were lucky that day that there was nothing happened. Otherwise we would be up and down the court as witnesses"....(???????????????).


If I were them, I would have called the students' residential college nearby to find out if they were in anyway rehearsing for such "high crime dramas or least find out from other guards if they have heard "anything of that sort" at all.


Thursday, was our normal day to the "Pasar Tani" nearby. An hour later when we came home, our helper told me that these guards came looking for me. Not knowing which house I have described, they intended to ask me instead. Some guards...guarding the University's exclusive residential area and not knowing which house has what number on which street! They have not taken any notes of my report, that was very definite.


By the time I was at my gate, a pale blue color Proton Wira was seen leaving our neighbor's house. It was marked as a Police car. What? At such a time, almost 8.45am. or so, to take action? Robbery had struck at a quarter past six or slightly earlier. And miraculously they have fled...even if they decided to crawl, they would have got off comfortably and amply not rushed, remained uncaught.


Who were the culprits? Must have been some people who were too familiar with our surroundings and those who have noticed the most available opportunity to strike. The Tenaga Nasional street lightings are so dimmed and romantic that visibility was worse than poor. The area is dark and spooky at night. Even our garden lightings would not have helped much in such hour of the morning.


So, what about us? We leave things in the safe care and in Allah's hands against any possibilities that went beyond our control and means. Amin.


To rely on such security guards? OR not to rely...is yet to see. But for sure, all reports are taken and wonderfully narrated in their report log books.


BUT it was quite different in the case of another neighbor living besides us. Their helper absconded with their jewelleries, passport and clothings but leaving behind a sleeping one and a half year old little angel, called Sarah. It was some time in June when she decided to leave her employment in such a disorderly and dishonestly manner.

When I summoned the guards, they came almost immediately and took the case seriously since there was a child locked inside and a grand mother locked out. The back door was opened. Sarah who has just awaken, was hungry for her milk. The grand mother rushed to me while I was in the kitchen preparing some fried noodles to share with them.

Panting for breath, she lamented words that almost sent me down on my knees.

"I knocked hard on the door!" she said.

"I did not hear you, I was in the kitchen" I replied.

"No, it was not your door. Our house is empty. Only Sarah is inside".

"No wonder, when I called a few times, your house phone went unanswered. I thought your helper might have fallen in the bathroom and she was knocked out."

"No! Her bedroom is empty. I could see through the window she was not there. Sarah is all alone in the house".


Then she hurriedly went back to her house to look after Sarah who was inside.

After filling up the used plastic bottle with plain water, I went to the fence and pushed it over to her to share with little Sarah. Meanwhile, I rushed inside to call the security guards to break down the latched front door. That was one of those times that I exchanged phone numbers with a few guards of different tasks.

Poor little Sarah.

THE SOUND THAT NEVER WAS

11 o'clock(ish) 21st July 2008...a broad day light incident...(I forgot to write the proper timing earlier on...)

After printing all the documents that were required, I just turned off the printer and this laptop because the internet suddenly went "limp" for the past couple days and nights till now. My friend, Wan Mah (to AH) was attending to Amir Harith and was reading him his new and latest addition to his collection of books - bought by Cik Za from the Amcorp Mall the evening before. They entitled "Fun All The year with Pooh and Friends. Printed on cloth and well folded into square shaped books with straps to fasten when finished reading them.

Suddenly, she heard an eerie sound that came from no where...she told me, twice it came to her ears. It was quite similar to the "pleading waling sound coming from a woman). I did not hear this. BUT as I walked towards her, I too heard "it" but different in strength and tones. I quickly went to the front window looking out into the compound of our next door neighbor, then towards their main door and next to the window. Nothing amiss had come from there. So, I returned to where Amir Harith was playing.

Then came this wierd "strangled-groaning-sound" , a very loud one...again we rushed to the window trying to locate where it had come from. Instantly I thought, this sounds like the zoo negara environment. But it was so obvious, that was true enough of a human (man) sound, most unlikely an animal sound. It sent my hair to stand at ends, feeling creepy yet not frightened like the incident in...The Lady In The Next Room, when the washing machine was being disturbed. Perhaps the monkey leader's voice? But who on earth having a sound mind would dare holding the monkey and strangle it? Then looking uphill, I notice the neighbor's little boy was at the sliding door looking out, not crying. So, there should not be any trouble coming from their house.

Suspicious and still getting the creeps at this weired sound, I called the area security guard to come and check on other houses. Hey, have I turned into a heroin of the street (or Madam K? K is for kepoh)? He then summoned the head of security from the campus nearby. The likely source of the sound was impossible to trace at all. It was like a hill and an open valley. The sound could have come any directions. But this residential area is far too small for any other large animals except our regular visitors, the monkeys, the squirrels, two gray and one albino biawaks.

By 12 o'clock (at midday) , an empty house opposite us was full of people gathering outside. Its owner was not home and not even at work either. The gate was half opened. We thought there was something amissed coming from this "target" of ours. By sheer coincidence, the front glass window was broken with pieces were still on the ground. An overnight bag was visibly seen being placed in front of the main door, near the glass wall. A white Jazz car, sitting idly in the garage with a black pair of man's shoes nearby. One side of a sports shoe was left near the garden hose. The hilly part with over grown grass looked good enough for a crime spot.

All sorts of theories came up as we gathered outside. Three guards went up the roofs trying to find a way into the house. They did not break open the front door as they would not want to be responsible for any charges on break-ins. They kept the house under surveillance for quite a while. Dared not even call the police yet, because of any eventualities. I was on the phone with some people in the authority from the campus. There was no sound at this time. Everything was quiet.

Upon realizing that Amir Harith may have woken up from his sleep and needed me to feed him, I left and down the hill I came. ODD? That was what we thought. Where could the sound have come from? What could have made that sound?

Until today, 22nd July as I continue this story, the mystery remained unsolved, unanswered and unquestioned by the authorities from the campus. But they lingered on in my mind. In case it was someone being strangled or murdered, WHO was it? It suddenly ring a bell in my memory, a few years back, someone had put a cut-up body from Taman Medan, into the empty rubbish bin in Jalan 12/5 (if I am not mistaken)..............it was published in the paper and being aired on the local TV stations.

Just in time...now Amir Harith is awake and ready for his second feed...but the mysterious afternoon sound still remained in my mind.

SPECIAL DEDICATION TO THE VIP LADY

It was the year of 1973

After my MCE Exam, I came home with all the luggage and a six years belongings that was nothing more than stacks of this and that at the corner of my bedroom. Excitedly I notice we had a new neighbor but most importantly they have children. That meant that I would be making new friends, Hooray!

This neighbor in particular, would change from one to another at a fixed period of time unless they are the favorite to the folks around the neighborhood. And obviously, there was one much less popular to us especially. Significantly famous with their arrogant behaves, which included not making friends with us or any other kampong folks, having rounded up our herd of lambs and sent them to the police station, they were the least popular District Officer in the district of Kemaman.

The late, His Royal Highness, Sultan Ismail Nasiruddin Shah Ibni Almahum Sultan Zainal Abidin was their first royal visitor as the distinguished guest of honor when they first resided there.

(Apologies to Your Highnesses...apparently The VIP lady had corrected some facts here....It was ....the late His Royal Highness Sultan Mahmud Ibni Almarhum Sultan Ismail Nasiruddin Shah's visitation and not the former, The late HRH was HRH Sultan Mizan Zainal Abidin's father).

Looking quite hurried and panicky, the servant from this new neighbor hastily crossed over to our compound and greeted us with salam. After talking to my Ma, what appeared to be very serious, I saw Ma went inside fetching “kuah singgang lama” that she kept in the pan tightly and properly covered above her kerosene stove. Apparently it was being requested by the late His Royal Highness through his Boy (the person acting as his aid in charge of serving food to him), refusing all the deliciously well prepared dishes served by the host. The whole entourage was brought along each time the late His Royal Highness went on his district visits. He would either chose to reside in this DO’s house which instantly be refurbished or at the district government rest house by the river side.

His next visit a year later, was him asking for “air kopi sejuk” (cold plain coffee). Ma had apparently "saved" their shortcomings (again) by giving away her favorite cold coffee that was in the fridge. She usually kept her extra plain coffee which was made from very aromatic local coffee added with a ladle of white sugar. The big metal mug with its lid on,(koley as we called it in Terengganuspeak) would then be kept in there and she would finish it by the end of the day by pouring bit by bit into another cup, a white tea cup and a matching saucer with gold rim. Sometimes, unfinished coffee would prolong its life span until the day after in the same fridge. His Royal Highness was then really fitting my neighbor’s test list for asking something no one would ever have thought he would have asked and obviously very rarely people would be keeping such thing over night or in the fridge.

These two “unexpected savings of their lives” so to say, changed the environment from the previously not so friendly neighbor into this new, charming, warm, humble and friendly one.

Ma has got new friend to share her life with, in particular Mok Ku Tengku Dalam and Mok Ku Ku Wok. So were vice versa. Our famous orange big quarter spiral concrete stairs was the official seats for our visitors who wanted the feel of fresh air during day time and getting the sweet smell from bunga pekan at night time. Sometimes I would help cleaning the stairs by just pouring over a few pails of water to get rid of the road dust that was blown over from beyond.

Friendships were developed between the two households with no boundaries from then on. The children, Pi, Ku Nor, Ku Yah, Ku Adi, Ku Mah, Ku Woh and the youngest Ku Sah, were our most regular visitors. (Names appearing are not arranged in accordance to their age)…Our favorite drink would always be sweet plain hot tea prepared by Ma in big koley, to be drank on the stairs. While Mak Ku Tengku Dalam would enjoy her evening pass time with Ma, chatting over their private matters which we children were far from being allowed to eve drop. At this time too ,came along adik Chop who would call "air teh" as "air ta".

I was to her, an adopted daughter, a person she considered older than her eldest daughter, Ku Mah. I fitted well wherever I went with them. Sometimes I would accompany them to official functions in the district that provoked the people around to question if I were related to them.

At times when VIPs dropped by on their official visits, this residence would be their next official stop to have meals. My assistance was needed then. Not that I knew what to do, but I helped in whatever I could assist. On one occasion,(not yet with any title) Dr.Mahathir Mohamed was the person on a visit to Kemaman as the Minister of Education. I was asked to peel mangoes and arrange them for VIP tables. Wow! What an experience during that school holiday. Many VIPs came and went. Some I did not even take notice who they were because they were too many. My task was to lend a hand, full stop.

Days, weeks, months and years that followed, remained unchanged. After school holidays were over, we left Kemaman, heading for our respective schools. Me, to Johor Baru and Ku Nor, to Seremban. The rest of her siblings were schooling in Kemaman and Kuala Terengganu. School holidays were our much-awaited-get-together, again to share stories and outings. We would cycle to a far as Kuala Kemaman and sat on the beach until it was time to be heading for home before the sun set. At times I was offered a lift in their family car, a red Volvo, to visit my paternal mother in Kuala Terengganu.

From our maiden days as students, we left for further studies, getting married, having our own families and today living not so far apart from each other, we never kept ourselves away. Ku Nor was and is still my close companion…

July 2005, I bumped into Mok Ku, at Istana Maziah during DYMM Tuanku Sultan Mizan’s birthday. Much to my amazement and surprise, she excitedly introduced me to her lady VIP friends with such a tone that expressed feelings of proud having me as her “adopted” daughter, “Ni anok saya ning. Dulu masuk ITM Dungun, masa Pok Eng jadi principal, saya gi ato masuk dengan anok saya Yah (Sharifah Normadiah)”…I was quite embarrassed at this note. Surely her friends knew who I was because I resembled (like a carbon copy) to my elder sister, Kak Zawahir. But they all acknowledged with smiles and salam with me.

She was and still is ever so proud of me for some reasons only she very well knew. Had I been more successful than what I am today, she would probably have announced it to the world. How thoughtful and humble she was.

Now as the news of her being ill arrived, through the hand phone, it saddens me greatly. I could not return her kindness to me at all. I could not visit her in Kuala Terengganu as she was warded for the past couple of weeks. Hence, I choose to express it here, how deeply I feel her presence besides me, with her warm and motherly smile. Her warm hugs, when I met her at my nephew’s (Wan Mohsin Azmi) wedding after the last Hari Raya Puasa (2007), was still felt. Her sweet and joyous smile was still in my minds eyes. She was wearing a pair of lilac baju kuring while I was in a purple baju kurong. What a coincidence though not exactly the same.

At the time of writing this blog, she is still in the hospital in KT. When SNSO called to inform, I was greatly saddened by it all. However, some consolation was felt when she told me, my two elder sisters went visiting her that afternoon after talking to me. Alhamudlillah, at least some members of my family were there as my representative.

She made no enemies throughout her long life. She was and is very much blessed with life full of trials and tribulations besides all the joys, happiness and pleasant surprises bestowed unto her. She bravely went through them all with jubilant. She has good friends all around her, she has no enemies, people loved her every where she went. She was and still is so adorable, lovable and have a heart that was made from gold…(excuse me for saying this, but I am not sure if this gold could be bought or sold at all)…It was her inborn attitude, humble with everyone that touched her heart and life. It was such a pleasant fact to know when she turned 70, she was as though stil very much in early her 60s or late 50’s.

May Allah Bless her with good health, long life, more happy moments to be shared with her grand children and all wonderful people all around her whom she has showered with her wonderful heart and soul. Amirah, her eldest grandchild, would soon be a doctor and would be her proud moment to share her graduation ceremony.

I am sure as time ticking on and days moving on, people in the Kuala Terengganu General Hospital would be kept busy receiving all the VIP visitors on her behalf...meanwhile, my silent prayers are always with you

I too was blessed with such good hearted people all around me and Allah saved me from the ill-hearted ones. Alhamdulillah syukur.

ONCE UPON A LAPTOP TIME…

Was I to know what was Chat Room, what was Chatting and MBSC, ect., ect., ect? Of course not. When it began years ago, it was MIRC, Yahoo Chat and the long list that came with it.

One day, I tried going into this so called interesting site, the chat room. The next day that followed, I ended up reading emails that someone allowed me to read. Apparently she had started long before me. Anyway, interesting writes were written in between her jobs. What was I doing in her office? Oh, I forgot to tell you. Each morning I became her presidential chauffeur. After sending Diyanah to school, at Bukit Damansara Primary School, which was hardly half a kilometer away from her residence, I turned into her street to fetch her. Whilst on busier days, I just dropped her off in her Jalan Duta office and made way for my own appointments in the city.

Interesting cyber friends were made through chat rooms. During the NAM and OIC meet that took place some time in 2002, a chatter friend came over to Malaysia from New York as one of the representatives for NAM. Local chatters were carefully selected, by my standard of course…..not by your high standards! I met one good guy who used to work in a distinguished IT company along the highway, in Tropicana area. He was a convert and had gotten married to a young lady from the East Coast region. He told us (me and my partner in crime), that he had also paid through the education of his sister-in-law in APIIT. Jokingly, I asked, is there another Amir around today? What a good hearted man he was. I hope and wish that he is happily married.

One very funny incident took place. If this guy were to know, he would surely skin both of us alive. I did not know he was also a chatter friend to my above mentioned partner. One day, while she was in a meeting, I was online with Mr.A who lived not far from Kuantan. Guess how the conversation went on?

A asked “Where do you live?”

I answered “Next to the highway”

“Which highway?”

“The NKVE”.

“Which school you went to last time?”

“One school in Johor Baru”.

Suddenly he went, “ Eh? You two sound similar! The way you write is similar to how she writes”

“Who?”, I asked as though so very surprised.

He went on, “I have one chatter friend whom I have once met in her office that wrote like you do. Just now she told me, she was in a meeting. Could it be you?”

“Of course not, I am not in any meetings. That is why I am now in this chat room”.

“You better tell me the truth”, he continued.

“It is true, I am not in any meetings. And I don’t know who you are talking about.”

“But you two sound the same, you give similar answers, the way you write, the way she writes, similar words used”. Words were repeated by him as though insisting that I admitted his guessing was correct.

That evening, me and my partner were on the phone. We were laughing our hearts out when I related my story to her. Why? Apparently, she has also mentioned living near the highway, went to school in the same vicinity…BUT of course (in reality) her language is much better than mine. Perhaps similar words were written in the chat room by sheer coincidence.

The next day, I met him again.

He could not believe that we both were different people.

So I said, “May be we went to the same school, having similar si fu”.

He was not pleased and insisted that I was the same person he already met.

Anyway several months later, one day we decided to take a break from our work and headed for The Impiana Hotel in Cherating together with our children, minus our husbands who remained in Kuala Lumpur. We were discussing whether we should prove him that we were two different people or not? But of course we did not have the guts to go ahead with the idea. It would mean to insult, embarrass or humiliate him.

What more, when my MPV stalled at the traffic light in Kemaman, in front of Kemaman Kopi Hai Peng, suddenly he was our targeted pal to be called to the rescue. To call or not to call, was the focusing matter discussed between us. Finally we decided to call for assistance. Were we lucky? Yes, he told us he knew one reliable Citreon mechanic living in Kuantan town that could come to our aid. After talking to the mechanic, he then suggested we drove back to the Impiana Hotel and he would come with spare part. Not knowing what really had gone wrong with the vehicle, I did not dare driving in such a long distance. But who might it be, to turn to next? Of course, it was none other than our old friend who was working at one of the estates not far from the town. Unfortunately, he too could not come and help. So, he suggested we should seek help from his cousin, Mr.Sufian.

I have never spoken to Sufian in my life before. But under desperation, I may have to break the ice. Being so helpful, he drove over and he helped to drive us back to Impiana. Thank you Sufian, you made our day. Without your great help, I could not think of any other ways that would give me the strength to overcome my fear in driving . The mechanic arrived almost at the same time as we did. Sufian left without even having any drinks with us. So, after the fault was discovered, its part was changed and we retired in our apartment. We called our chatter friend to say our gratitude…with lots of grinning while talking to him. Only we knew why we were grinning.

A couple of nights later, we managed to have both our rescuers from Kemaman joining us for a sumptuous dinner in Cherating. Thank you dear friends and thank you for paying our dinner too.

One night, a funny and an almost insulting incident took place in the chat room. This young boy was asking me how old was I. After telling him my age, he remarked “ A person of your age, you should not be here, in this chat room. You should be praying, reading the Quran, and do “amal ibadat”. This place is for young people like us”.

So, I replied, “Hello young man, at the very least, I know I am keeping abreast with IT, I know what goes on in this chat room and I could keep an eye on my children. At least I am IT literate and I know for sure, I am better off than your mom or your grandma!”

Suddenly he “disappeared”. He had been barking at a wrong tree. I have never seen him again on other nights that followed.

On another occasion, a literally very intellectual guy joined our chats. He sounded like a professor and insisted I responded to his writes. Of course I was not knowledgeable as he was. When I refused, he became angry but refused to budge from the room. It was funny, indeed a very funny character.

A couple of years later, chat room was no longer an interesting place to be. But people were telling horrifying stories of some unwanted incidences happening as a result of getting close with cyber friends. They dared meeting freely and getting acquainted.

That was some “safe” cyber experience for AH’s grandma.

IN BETWEENS…BEING A GRANNY, A BLOGGER AND DOT, DO, DOT

Amir Harith was asleep.

I quickly turned on the laptop and wait for its time to click away the keys on the key board. Its like racing. Yes, its racing against AH’s sleep which is most times could be unpredictable. Granny, A Blogger! I was busy the whole time today, writing comments on Dr.Azhar’s blog “Nature Lover”, who was my classmate in Standard six whom I have never met since. Hence, I do not have the slightest idea of how he looks like now and then – after standard six that is. It took almost all the time of AH’s sleeping time at 9.00a.m, 1:00pm but now 3:40 pm he is all bright eyed and well awake. But I already raced with him with late lunch…Why racing when he is up?

He is only six months and 5 days now. He has just started sitting down but appearing like just passing his safety road test with an “L” license. He would be sitting up straight with good posture but soon would sway to the right or to the left, or nose and face down that almost instantly called for my urgent attentions. I do not wish to see him in the papers….if you knew what I mean, so I rushed to his aid, on the double.

Things are done almost at an instance: replying to sms, answering phone calls, tucking some food down my tummy, visit the loo and of course preparing him his next feed, not forgetting putting the water to boil in case his flask ran out of hot water and urgently turned or ran to him if he tumbled again. He would not be able to get up all by himself unless I placed pillows behind him. What if he falls to the opposite direction of the propped up pillows? Rush, rush, rush then get back to this laptop alphabets which faithfully let me touch them with gentle noise of tap, tap, tap.

Have I turned a super duper granny? I was what my friends called a super duper mom back then: while the children were in school, I was busy running own business, looked at the clock, then see them to lunch, send someone to the child minder, send someone to the Quran reading class and finally fetching someone who is in the afternoon session at school. Woof! That was then. Ops! Not done yet…finally round up everyone and drove them all home. Once home, this super duper mom, turned to the pots, pans and the cooker.

Today, throughout the day, only TV station no 613 or 614 were turned on. I have almost memorized the programs…not for grand mothers though. Nordy, Choo Choo Train, Sesame Street, Pooh and Friends, Barney and many more. His favorite nursery rhymes are Do A Deer A Female Deer, Twinkle Twinkle Little Stars, Humpty Dumpty, Jack and Jill, Alphabet songs and lots more to be mentioned. He would not sit still during this singing session. His hands would be reaching out for the laptop and with his little thumb, he would confidently touch the board. Imagine my condition at this time. I could be sweating while trying to keep him attached to my lap. But of course he enjoyed it so much.

We sort of took turns as to who should be doing what, at which time of the day, who should be left alone, who should play on his own and then who should take a nap. Needless to say, most times he broke the unsaid rules and won all of the above. But of course, he is a minor so he should deserve these attentions.

Surprisingly, some times he just let me be on my own with this blog while he kept himself busy with his toys that I purposely placed close to him. Only these couple of days, he started throwing them a bit further than where he was sitting. His mattress together with any available cushions from the sofa, were gathered all around him in case he turned and fell off. Apparently, he knew too well how to attract my attention. He would turn the other way round twice so that he nearly fell off. Ha ha ha, that little Amir Harith surely knew his way with his grandma.

But why grandma was ever so busy these past couple of days? Oh, I forgot to write about the helper...fevering for two days. So, she need not work. That was why grandma was in a rush, rush, rush SO she became a dot, dot, dot!

Today, amidst this extra busy schedule, I was also busy “sms” with Mr.Fred from Pulai Spring Resort. The early booking had to be done to attend Hafiz’s graduation on the 20^th of August for his diploma In Mechatronics in UTM Skudai.

All other hotels listed down in the given list by UTM, were fully booked by ten o’clock the morning before today. However, My.Fred noted that “Aunty, I would try to upgrade your accommodation (serviced apartment) once you arrived”. The next sms read, “Aunty, I would upgrade your accommodation especially for you”. Mr.Fredrick, in case you are reading my blog tonight, I am going to claim your promise. Promise me, won’t you?

Well, after posting the important mail that contained essential information for Hafiz’s graduation, we stopped to have some dough nuts at the Mid Valley Mega Mall nearby. AH kept himself busy watching people with so many different color skins, sitting at different tables. He seemed observant. Once finished, me with one and a half dough nuts, whilst his mom with her sandwiches, we made our way out and home we came. It was already dark when it was all over.

Now, alhamdulillah, I have all the peace in the world, he is nearby but deep in his sleep. Next to him, lying close together is his beloved mom…a busy mother who turned a student, a worker, a mother and a wife. But most of all a very thoughtful and a very loving daughter to me…as The Lady Who Lives Down The Stairs.

RECIPEE ON SIMPLE QUICKY DISHES

Tonight aunty nak jelajoh Aiman’s blog. This script was posted in Aiman's blog in response to her Ikang Singgang. Aimanamani is the daughter of "Pizzaman" (A.Karim Omar) in the GUiT speedy delivery last December 2007.

Amir Harith’s minder is retiring and the baton has been passed to his mom (my daughter, The Lady Who Lives Down The Staircase…please read if you have some minutes to spare)…

I would like to share the recipe if I may…my version using ikan tenggiri.

SINGGANG IKANG TENGGIRI

1/2 kg. of Ikan Tenggiri - the head portion - cut as desired
2 big red onions - sliced
1 clove garlic - cleaned, crushed with skins on
1″ galanggal - crushed or sliced
6 pcs assam gelugor
1″ kunyit hidup - crushed
Salt to taste.
Sufficient Water

BOIL ALL - would taste much better with longer boiling period then add the cut fish. Should be eaten with nasi panas. Cold also can…

Sometimes I keep the over night kuoh till …for a period of more than anyone could imagine. My daughter The Lady Next To Me, would hirup kuoh after her rice is finished and loves the onions and garlic found in it.

the end of my write for aimanamani.

GULAI IKAN TENGGIRI or EGGS

1/2 kg Ikang tenggiri - cut as desired
2 stalks serai
1 pc garlic
1 big red onion
1/2" ginger
1/2" galanggal
1-2 pcs assam keping
1/2" fresh kunyit
1 mug fresh milk or
2 Table spoons coffee mate mixed with sufficient plain water
salt and sugar to taste

1. Finely mix all the fresh ingredients.
2. Put to boil together with assam keping, till it changes color and giving
aromatic smell. (Approximately 10 minutes).
3. Add fresh milk or mixed coffee mate. Stir well. Medium fire.
4. Add salt, sugar and fish till fish is cooked.
5. Variations: May add suitable vegetable of your choice.

A SATURDAY OUT ON A FREE WAY

The last Saturday before Sunday, after such a long five-day-baby-sitting and being a close ally to Amir Harith, I decided to take a drive out of my place of domicile. While driving, the phobia at the rising cost of petrol suddenly went off my mind and my entire track and driving pattern was automatically no longer an economic track. I drove through the City Centre, found road blocks had already started by the static and immobile "boys in black and white uniforms and bikes". Roads leading to the Parliament House were totally sealed.


While fetching an old old pal from Setapak was the primary task of the day, driving through the free way passing Taman Melati, reaching the junction that split towards Kuantan (to the left) Gombak, Batu Caves, Selayang (straight a head or rather in the direction of 12 o'clock) , heading North, was the ultimate journey we took to accomplish our next mission. We stopped by in what was signed and labeled as Pasar Borong Selayang. People were busy packing fruits on transporters. Strange faces were turning and looking towards us. Obviously, the particular object that I was looking for, was too far fetched and impossible to be found there. Selayang was such an enormous "place" and almost a "city" on its own, spreading on both sides of the highways carrying such names that only those residing there might have memorized. Some of them might not even have heard of any except where they lived.

My task was unaccomplished. It would have been an extremely silly deed looking for a little husk in mountains of rice. No specific direction was clued. The person who was responsible that led to this journey could have lost the usage of his hands because all calls were left unanswered. Suddenly ringing from my continuous calls had turned onto deaf ears. Sms were far from being replied, probably were left unread for days and days. Needless to say here, some people are extremely expert in convincing people who are straight forward Janes. Principle of life is easily pushed aside at the expense of others.

While driving through one taman, I pulled up at a banana stall and tried looking for some bananas for the monkeys back in the yard who are forever hungry. The lady told me those clumsily-stacked dark skinned ones are meant for making cakes and all. What? The over-ripen ones? Anyway, after buying some fresh and big-sized bananas, we headed further north and then turned off westwards, to home sweet home.

…AND voala! Were we not happy to be greeted by a herd of monkeys with big and small babies. A few would climb up our window ledge and looking onto our meal table as though asking for mercy and for some food. First the huge, sickly looking father of all monkeys, I think he was injured. True. He was injured. His bottom right lips were red and fresh wound was visible which we thought was probably caused by durian skins from garbage bins that they had ransacked earlier.Out of pity and love for Allah’s creations, we dropped two bananas for him. We shoved some of its skin through the window and excitedly closed as fast as we could in case they grabbed hold of our hands. A hooligan looking guy grabbed all of them selfishly and hurried up to a huge tree besides my former bedroom when I was the Lady Who Lives Down The Stairs. He finished them all up and threw those unwanted bits down to the ground. Little monkeys then grabbed them and tried to eat every little bit that was left.

Meanwhile, an old mother monkey was also on the ledge, waiting patiently. Two more were thrown and she knew they were meant for her and she left with them fully tucked into her big mouth. The skins were strewn on the cemented floor. Younger ones came rushing, picking them up and found their way up the same tall huge tree.

Satisfied? Yes, of course. That was only a wee bit we could do for them. Wan Mah was suggesting bringing home banana skins found at the goreng pisang stall, but they were meant for goats to eat, not monkeys. The remaining bananas were meant for us. Pisang Emas was for little Amir Harith, Pisang Rastali was for Wan Zaemah and Pisang Berangan was for Wan, Mama, Papa and Cik Za. So much for looking for a furniture factory in Selayang.

After the zohor prayer, we then retreated in bed, trying to get some rest but something more important came up... catching up on old time stories of those were the days when we were once young ladies of the campus.

After our Asar prayer, we again headed north to meet another old friend that Wan Mah has not met for more than twenty years. And guess what were waiting for us at Wan Zah's three year old beautiful house? An almost newly wedded couple named Wan (nenek) Zainah who used to work in AG and the Main Library in the City together with her husband, Atok (Tok Ki) Mr.Iskandar from the United States. AND of course the other was the difficult-to-forget and to mention the tasty Nasi Dagang served with beautiful mixed pickles, boiled eggs, chicken and ikan tongkol curry. We each had our-more-than-one-helping to the sumptuous high-tea. Mint tea, red syrup, fruits and kurma were not the starters of the day.

The journey that started at 4.30 p.m was worth the while. We left her place at 11.00 p.m. after another meal of kuey teow soup, bee hoon soup and fried kuey teow close to Rahman Putra’s Golf club. What a gala outing for all the Wans in town. Our appreciations to you Wan Zah for being such a beautiful and wonderful host.

Tra la la la. La LA

HOME HELP, MAID, SERVANTS OR DOT DOT DOT

In This Klang valley I came to know of two mams
Who frequently hug their ...dot, dot, dot (all of the above)
One living in Damansara Heights
While the other in Section 16 PJ

The Cambodian girls came, dusted the table tops
Mopped the floor till they shine through
Cleaned the windows with towels and finished with papers
Climbed the ladder reaching for the fans

Lai Yueng, Sallai and Vanni as they were named
Being fetched early mornings and sent home at dawn
With food and drinks to share with friends
Even extra nice words were offered
They were all well trained but only their speed differ

The owner of the company lived off Jalan Klang Lama
He charged us RM sixty for the whole duration of a day
Paying them all RM five hundred per month
Seven days a week they labored themselves

Not a single penny is given to them
To keep or to buy sundries as they pleased
All are being provided for by the employer
At the end of two year period
Would they be able to get their dues

Then came this Western Javanese mother
She has a four year old son that was left behind
The normal cleaning trains were conducted
Hoped to be a little easier than previous helps
You know how the hammer and the nail work?
They both make the carpenter (me) boiling

Once done, to be repeated the next day
Pretended to be clever today, dumb the next
I stopped talking to her since I discovered
Something nasty was written down somewhere

Sunday came, I refused to offer her a lift
To the tafsir class in Ampang that we used to go
My patience went beyond the limit
This morning I erupted accompanied by noises
That came down with pots and pans
They got stuck to the shelve because of uneven stacking
She appeared at the door, looking the least guilty!

After reciting some doas, I cooled down
Talked to her in a slower tone which touched her
She then admitted wanting to apologise
Even before today and yesterday
But was afraid to do so

When I forgave her, her tears and mine flowed
Mine were a sincere motherly tears
I am not too sure about hers (pretention or real)
But I have to be weary...of crocodile tears
We forgave and hugged each other

Was that the end to all the feuds yet to come?
Wallahu 'alam bissawab...
To have or not to have?
Which is better?
You have read my writes
You answer or send comments to me, ok?

I am writing this as Amir Harith is fast asleep
While the fried fish is cooking on the stove...

Tralalalala la la!

this piece was first published on the 12th July

THIRTEEN AGAINST ONE

Believe it or not? For the past month, we have this group of not so friendly and not so civilised minkies dropping by. The other group which we considered civilised wouldn't even touch our potted plants except banana trees that fed them with young shoots and fresh new stems.

I saw an sms sent by Zaza..."Today we have different groups coming that sent everything flying from the shelf in the garage and ransacking things that are not crossing their paths. They look so fierce".

"Don't worry Ja, they are probably the new group that have just finished a new course next door, (at the training centre) in hooliganism and gangsterism"
"How do we tell if they are from different group? They look the same?"
"Of course you could. The other group has bigger mothers which carry little tots almost every other month. And they are quite polite".

Would you believe it or not? These fresh graduates, went berserk with things they just discovered in our garage and next door. Things came crashing down to the floor include bottles of battery water, car cleaning kits, engine oil, newspapers that were three feet high and of course the rusty mousy trap that has got moldy salted fish in it. Newspapers were there in case we could catch the newspaper collector that drove by at the speed of the lightning. Each bundle would earn us 5o cents, depending how big the size of his hand is.

After that part, the gala has not ended yet. Came the smaller ones, climbing the clothes hangers outside. They apparently snatched a few of our helper's clothes and strewn them all over the place. One bright pink blouse caught one minky's attention. It went up the tall tree outside my bedroom (the tree is outside our compound but the branches came down and over to my bedroom window) and excitedly trying to put it over its head. Then came down again still wearing it over its head...funny? Yes, but she was fuming and bemused.

While this other minky was busy with the pink blouse, a handful of them were seen going through my potted plants excited and aggressively. They broke most plants...in their pursuit to catch a huge toad that has been hibernating in my pot for so long. So amused was I that suddenly when they stopped, only realised, the toad was in its hand. It tried pulling the legs apart. Now that was not funny. The toad must have been in agony. But I couldn't help. Who would want to go out amidst wild monkeys who were overwhelmed in excitement.

The toad which was slippery, finally fell to the ground where the suds from the washing machine flow. The pain and fiercely harrowing experience must have scared the toad out of its life. The trauma sent his bruised body to another hide out which was not far from the other pot. When I counted, there were thirteen monkeys that were after one miserable defenseless toad.

Meanwhile a score of them were at my rooted plants in another plot. The plants were bent to the ground as they helped themselves to the ants eggs that were glued to the stems. Then another portion was attacked. They snapped some of my red and yellow helliconias. Eating them up and left the hard potions on the ground. There was a great fiasco going round that day.

Some big ones, came to the table which we put outside, jumping and pushing plastic chairs, up and down then up again like some kind of happy play ground. A huge one went up the grill to the sliding door and shook it so hard that the sound was similar to some demolition works that went on when the new road was reconstructed a few meters from here.

Now it is bit quiet but we still receive them from time to time. The decent group, just climb up and sit on the window ledge watching the food on our meal table.

The people from Jabatan Perhilitan came by a couple of weeks ago and we observed some of them are getting into smaller groups. Life with them around would be rush, rush, rush to our clothes lines and shutting the windows to avoid enforceable encounters with them and of course the flees they carry on their back!

This post was first published on the 12th July...

THE YOUNG LADY WHO GREW UP TOO SOON

The Child In My Heart No.4

A child with a golden heart, whose life was so full of surprises and unlike the other three siblings, she grew up too soon! She is always ahead of us with her thoughts.

Different time, date and year...she was born in the same hospital as Abang Hafiz, UH. The anxiety worked up that caused my blood pressure to rise. This time Prof.Rachagan was no longer around. He was previously introduced to me by Dr.Arfah from Karachi, Pakistan. She was around when little Hafiz was born.

Swarmed by the medical students from time to time, I was so flabbergasted when a few of them meddled with my veins and let the much needed blood dropped onto the floor. I held my thin patience as I was facing a difficult moment. Deep down I felt like saying some "words" and open my mouth wide in high pitch!

Anyway, around 10.00p.m, another beautiful queen was welcomed to the world. She cheered us up after almost five years Abang Hafiz became the youngest child. Apparently she missed the beautiful Berlin life. Hence, not a single shot of her was snapped there.

There are already so much writes being written about her in this blog. The Hair Cut, The Scissors, The Tears; The Tearful Little Queen; The Little Lady Next To Me. Hence this short story and I would like to express my greatest appreciation to her for being THERE. It was simply enjoyable having her everywhere I went. Every minute spent with her was so wonderfully memorable.

Just like any other siblings of hers, she too have a golden heart. It is so full of love and affection for everyone. Having an extremely high tolerance rate, patience, helpful, strong willed, focused and authoritative. Just to name a few of her deep down feels that no one sees except her closest buddy, me.

All The Best to you for the coming SPM exam. May Allah Bless you with more success in future. You have done well so far, Alhamdulillah.

Diyanah, Mummy love you very much little darling.

THE YOUNG MAN IN MY HEART

The Child In My Heart...No.3 ……..A miracle baby

At 3p.m. on the 20th May xxxx, yet another child was born to this family. Five years apart from my number two and seven years apart from my first (sweethearts). He was our first born, to be born at a teaching hospital near here, the University Hospital.

The reminder from Prof.Rachagan was to take counts of the foetal movements and note them on that sheet of paper. No one had reminded or cautioned me of any excessive movements which led to s distress resulting from any possible reasons or "incidents". Anyway, after the normal visit for ante-natal check up, I was rudely awaken by the vary word "cesarean" - CS. I slumped on the hilly bucket chair next to me the vary moment one magic word was uttered from the Professor's mouth.

I woke up three hours after everything was over…shivering with my teeth knocking each other of the extreme cold OT. Suddenly this lady nurse appeared from somewhere, busily asking for some details about me. I was feeling so drowsy from the effect of anesthetic given earlier. Otherwise she would have got a piece of my mind! Couldn't she wait until I was completely out of sedation? I would not have gone off anyway, not without my baby and not in such a condition of course.

Three days later, I was introduced to (him)...my cute Hafiz, by the handsome Professor, (as other new mothers who were sharing this cubicle, described him). He was all the while being kept in the incubator for observations and of course his cute little tiny face, fingers, toes and all fascinated me so much. Allah has spared him his life from an acute fetal distress. He went through an acute distress the night before. Out of innocence, I ignored that and went to sleep and waited till the next morning to go to UH. Alhamdulillah, he survived.

This young man of my heart was ever so fragile and adorable. Two of his elder sisters were dotting on him at every available moment to touch, cuddle and help with the chores. As there was less trouble to manage him, I was ever so thankful to the "children of my heart" for their helping hands.

At the age of three, we took him for a year's life in West Berlin. He has a special lady friend that was 80 years young then. How they had communicated, only Allah knows. But they seemed to be having time together at least once a week and that was when I have received a free "baby sitter" service from dear Mrs. Yarmushkiwitz. The other lady friend whom we called Mdm.Hitler, was not so in favor of small kids. So, she just befriended me. But on those days that I fried dried fish, she dreaded it. Davrient Weg, a much less busy street, was where we once resided.

While his two elder sisters went to school at "Unter den Kastanien", he became my closest ally. He was my pal who would accompany me to Aldi in Gross Strasse to collect huge maroon cherries. On our way home, he would normally close his eyes and fell asleep. When getting off the bus, normally people would help to carry his stroller or when there were none, I had to struggle down with the kilograms of fresh cherries, himself and his stroller. Much was written about him in my story entitled Behind The Berlin Wall.

As he grew up, he became the favorite to everyone for the vary reason, he was then the youngest in our family. He became a favorite to K.Zaza too. They would spend time together. The later was "unofficially" his-lady- in -waiting...hahahha. Much was taught and learned together. They were so close until they grew up.

Time at the nursery was not so enjoyable. Drawings were not completely done on time. I always went to see Miss Rebecca about him. He was not interested in it at all. Unlike Kak Zaza who loved colorings and writing, Hafiz simply did not fancy those. But we eventually have to come to her aid to complete them. Even during hospital visits, we have to color homework for her (Kak Zaza).

Anyway, primary school was such an experience. Abang Amin was there to look after him but sometimes got bullied by him too. He was much bigger than Hafiz, even now, even much taller. But they were buddies then. Now Abang Amin is doing his Diloma In Business Studies at IKRAM. Each morning he jumped on the LRT and other public transport to attend classes.

Hafiz also went to a boarding school, far away from home but only a five-minutes drive from my family home. So, he was always expecting early morning visitors to come and visit him. My elder sisters and her family usually took him his favourite food and drinks along. Thank you Cik A for your bits in making Hafiz felt accompanied and keeping him happy, feeling so much like home. Cik Kah and Cik Mah took turns to come by as well. Thank you dear sisters for coming to my aid while I was so far away from him.

It took him several hours traveling by road, an hour on a flight to reach his school. He too had done so well in his SPM. I went to visit him quite frequently either by road or flights. Once I took a bus ride home (as suggested by my sister)...that bus ride sent bebee-en-rose into stitches if she remembers now how I appeared on arrival at the bus terminal in Putra Place. Believe it or not? I was half dead of....mabok...darak sungguh! Doh nowk wak gunne stabowk... During the ride, I felt like asking the driver to changes places with me!

During a long school holiday...you returned to UH for a few night's stay and accompanied by Kak Zaza and mummy. Your tonsils were removed. Earlier on the anaesthetist told me the consequences of having local anaesthetic to an asthmatic patient. The sleepless nights we shared with you was a sad, sad night indeed. The aftermath of the operation was enormous...need not mention here...anyway, Dr.Tengku Faisal could not perform the op although it was only a minor one...(for some or minor reasons he was our family friend) the risk was there as well.

Meanwhile, school holidays were spent helping me as my chauffeur. Other sisters had worked part time while waiting for their SPM results. But unfortunately Hafiz did not earn anything...while chauffeuring me around. He got his driving licence after his 17th birthday. His elder sister, Kak Tasha had hers at the same age too except for Kak Zaza who obtained hers at the age of 16.

ne day, after one year of having his "P" sticker on our MPV - Citreon Evasion, he sms(d) me a message.

"Mummy, today you can throw away my "P" sticker on your car."

So then I asked,

" If I were to throw away your p, where are you to find another p for all your spellings?"

"I have more p's with me, mummy. Don't worry"...

After his fifth form, he was in UTM doing his Diploma In Mechatronich. He was in the City Campus...you could read my moving little story in "The Treasured Sheafer Pen". We usually visited him whenever he asked. Otherwise, he would be busy with his project and studies. After some time, he drove himself during the holidays to bring home his belongings which look more like going on a haj trip. Hafiz, today I am wearing your-never-worn maroon shirt that was too big for you...as you thought...Actually that shirt would fit you well because you are tall and lanky.

Hafiz is now pursuing his Degree in Computer Industry in University Teknolgi Malaysia Skudai. Yesterday, he called to inform there is no credit hours to be substituted for his shorter Degree course because he changes his course. Never mind Hafiz, whatever is destined and rewarded by Allah is something worth pursuing and would be blessed.

Now this young man in my heart (in the next room) is no longer around. He has left his room. Not until his next holiday, that it would be reoccupied. Presently it seemed empty, lonely and dark. Each morning, I took a peep out of my vary own window and left I turned, but it was still dark.

The other day we cleaned your room, I saw your shadowy figure (in my mind's eyes) sitting by your computer, editing my recorded lessons from Dr.Abdullah Yassin's kelas tafsir. You were so patient with your work. You know that my MP3 has gone missing, right? Last Sunday, our relative, Wan Norizan from Kemaman, told me she was going to give me an MP4 that her son no longer used. Alhamdulillah. My patience pays, Hafiz. I told you I was going to buy when I have some money. Now I do not have to get one myself.

Hafiz, thank you for being there for me as and when I needed you. You always lent me your helping hands whenever needed, so patiently bearing with my tempers and cerewetness. You sacrificed your time and all else, needless to mention here, for me, your sisters and our family.

I understand why you had refused my voluntary hair cut this time hahahahahhahaha! (please read: The Hair Cuts, The scissors , The tears. )

The morning as you were leaving...

After saying all those prayers (amin) and laughter that followed when we teased you........ I was really touched. Suddenly the light moment was abruptly changed... you turned and hugged me sobbing, in tears and :(...

"Mummy, please forgive me for everything, for making you angry, all my wrong doings, halalkan makan minum saya and all your helps".

And as usual, mummy's tears were forever ready to flow...(almost like turning on the golden water tap).

Congratulations on your recent success.

You deserved your success which came through our prayers, you hardwork and your own perseverance. Many more successes were to come if you keep up the speed you are now at. Alhamdulillah Syukur Ya Allah.

Hafiz, for all those past experiences you went through, I hope you could take them as experience worth learning and that would eventually lead you to take bigger strides, be more matured and more responsible towards yourself, us, our religion and the community we now live in.

Thank you for having such a wonderful golden heart, high tolerance rate, rich with manners and forever sacrificing and willing to help others. My appreciations, Amir Harith's, your sibblings and everyone whom you have touched...including my plants which you sometimes showered with water and your loves are noted here.

ALL THE BEST IN YOUR ENDEAVOR. I LOVE YOU AND MISS YOU.

MAY ALLAH BLESS YOU AND ANSWER ALL YOUR PRAYERS.

THE LADY IN THE NEXT ROOM

The Child In My Heart No.2

After Bairnbridge Close in Leeds, we shifted to Wingrove Avenue in Newcastle-Upon-Tyne. Had our first born and came the second while living at the later. Also was born on a Winter's Day, two years apart from each other. On the 11th January xxxx, I was really hungry for roti canai. I remembered the expert (then) had left me his secret recipe...

Taking out milk, eggs, flour, water and butter - from the recipe that was left by (now known as) Dr.Azimuddin, I put them all in a large mixing bowl and laboriously turned the mixture into a dough. Hard work it was indeed. But I was so determined to have them for dinner. After forming into small dough which I was supposed to leave for some time - giving the flour sufficient time to coagulate, I tried to make them thin and soft enough to be stretched. It was unfair! I forced them to respond to me in that short time. Of course they refused and the dough? Guess what had happened to this dough once cooked and done? It was as hard as the dinner plate but nice, tasty and crunchy to eat. The curry simply flowed past instead of being absorbed into the cooked roti canai. But I finished them anyway.

After the dinner, while watching the film "Towering Inferno" at 10.00p.m. suddenly...there was this signal from inside of me...hey! Someone is arriving! Off we went to the same St.James and here we were, 4 hours later another pretty face with much less little hair was born. The snow was thick outside. The labor ward seemed to be under staffed that night. Zaza was put near the window, not properly wrapped and had caught the drought. Pity this little queen who had just arrived. She ended up having cold almost every fortnightly after until we brought her back to Malaysia.

Probably there was some connections with my determination to make roti canai that night, she earned similar attitude later in life...as I have observed.

So, this little lady was nursed daily by me and her elder sister was receiving much less attention. One day we decided to send her to a child minder that was recommended to us by the Health Visitor. So they met each other only late evenings when daddy brought her home. Life was such hastle having to cope with many things alone. But then I tried to space them out and manage well soon after. Not long after Tasha rejoined us at home and had a blissful life which were quite eventful. She helped to look for nappies, towels and of course watching little Zaza sleeping.

When we lived in Cramlington, I remembered too well, one day they both finished up my Estee Lauder Knowing Cream from a large jar to be their facial and hair cream. The beautiful scent came right down to where I was ...what did I do at that time? I was watching TV then...serve me right! I never bought the same cream again until today but I kept the beautifully crafted jar which was white in color with black lid.

On another day, in different month, they were found to be on the top step showering themselves with talcum. I would try to locate this picture later and get it posted here. Once I discovered them, they both pretended crying with true tears though, afraid may be, that I would scold them. Imagine looking at white powder amidst tears on their faces and head of course.

Playing in the back yard was more fun than in the house. There were rhubarbs, huge roses, shrubs and some unknown plants around. They both normally had their lunch (omelet and potatoes) here too. By the sides there were clothes lines for me to put my washing to dry...not by the sun but by the breeze. It was so wonderful being able to be in such a cool breezy surroundings.

When Tasha went to school, she could not attend as she was too small to be covered by the insurance. So, each mornings she would just accompany Tasha to school and to play on the play ground nearby. On the way home, sometimes we took a longer way home by the lake. Our fence was only two feet high but no one dared to walk over and get into the lake. The lake was so close to our house. It was so beautiful. On those days it was frozen, children were seen skating on it endlessly. But we only kept ourselves by the window, watching them all.

Coming home to Malaysia was one long trip that tired us all. Zaza was given a bassinet and she went dancing inside, getting up and down while we were trying to catch a nap. She attracted MAS stewards with her far apart teeth and fangs when she smiled. She was so adorable, still quite small in size (but heavy) having fine hairs and very fair skin.

Upon arrival we were met by family members...we then lived in Kuala Terengganu for three months while daddy went back to KL to work. We lived at mom's house together with my two elder sisters Cik Kah and her family and Cik Mah. Nadiya was as little as Tasha then. Nadzrul just managed to wobbly walk on his two feet unaided, just a day before we arrived. Next door lived my other elder sister Cik A, Ayah Mat, Nor Hanan, Ramzan and Haniah. Chu Tee was still in London pursuing her Ph.D (probably still at Lilian Penson's Hall) and Cik Dah lived in KL then.

Life was suddenly took a different turn. Colds still persisted but much less frequent than before. Finally it went away almost unnoticed by us all. One scary incident that sent thrills down my spine was she would simply rush into the street thinking that it was still the Elden Square. Until then I resorted to hold her by the children's safety belt which looked pretty odd by those passers-by. When spending time with Kak Yaya, she would try to say the Terengganu speak correctly. Daily she would repeat them like parrots.

At this time, our frequent visitor was none other than Syarifah Normah (Makarab.blogspot.com) who would take us out for a beach ride and of course followed by beach strolls later. Until today Syarifah Nor (Aunty Nor was we all called her), is still our regular visitor. The only difference is she now came with her husband, Azlan and children Amirah, Aminah, Hajar, Ibrahim, Sarah and Maryam. We then took them (the kids) in on week ends if their father allowed.

Favorite dress was the white heavily layered lace tailored by Cik Mah. Favorite shoes was the grand maroon shiny strapped shoes that she would wear in and out of the house daily.

Then came the schooling time. TADIKUM in PJ was the first kinder garden they both attended. The teachers were always enjoying their company because they both were ever so willing to lend a helping hand at meal time. Miss Roopy whom she called Ms.Snoopy was her favorite while the
other would be non other than miss Rebecca whom she called Mrs.Breaker. TADIKUM had developed them both with self confidence and intelligence with their Montessori System. She started reading the papers at the age of five.

Next, was Sekolah Rendah Kebangsaan Sri Petaling in PJ was where she and her sister had their primary education. Both never gave me any problems like their younger sister did...please read Little Queen of Hearts...who would leave school and walked behind us to our car. Then Sekolah Menengah Asunta was their next center of education. They were separated when Tasha went to a boarding school.

After leaving school, she joined UiTM and then APIIT in Damansara Heights which later shifted to Bukit Jalil. She graduated from APIIT with a degree in IT. Congratulations Zaza, you made it through and through.

And mummy would now want to say my appreciations for being there for me and motivated me all along although at a young age! With your intelligence, you managed to to be my back bone then...while Tasha was away in school. You went along and felt the whole episode well. Then you shared with me all the way what went on in my life.

Zaza, you are indeed helpful, thoughtful and having a golden heart like your elder sister. Assistance were gladly offered whenever needed. Since young, you became the problem solver even the simplest tangled toys...you would untangle it and undo the problems easily. In the kitchen, you would always help out while I was preparing dinner. Your favorite past time would be baking, cooking and of course now...(like everyone else) looking after Amir Harith and nursing him. Chicken pies, apple pies are now (at least for for the time being) the thing of the past...since the oven has not been fixed. The other day, you burnt some cookies unexpectedly after only five minutes in the oven. It might have been the temperature or some other technical defaults.

You went through a tough time with life in the past which make you a matured, responsible and a strong willed person today. Your success which you deserved, was purely your hard work and of course Allah's Will and Help. We shared your successes in your studies and life through and through.

What we are today is the result of our invaluable past experiences and guidance from our parents! You have such a beautiful heart...May Allah Bless you with a life full of joy, keimanan, kesolehan and more success to come. May Allah also shows you through to the Right Path, the path of Para Solihin and would become anak yang solehah. Amin amin Ya Robbil Alamiin.

Thank you for all your beautiful thoughts, helps, sacrifices and assistance all the way. Alhamdulillah syukur you are a survivor like me!

Mummy love you and going to miss your presence soon.