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.

THE LADY LIVING DOWN THE STAIRS

The child in my heart BABY no.1

Alhamdulillah. She was born on a winter's day at St.James' Newcastle -Upon-Tyne. After a week long waiting in agony, she finally arrived. A healthy baby girl was born on the 6th of November xxxx. With thin hair, skin so smooth like silk, body of any normal baby and nose slightly ...flattened (I often joke about The Queen came by and borrowed part of it from her)...

She was slightly jaundiced so they kept her in the incubator on the same floor of a different wing as mine. At feeding time, I had to walk over, cuddle her, feed her, change her nappy and walk back to my bed for some rest. I kept writing about her progress each day until she grew up. And kept writing from the hospital bed for the next five more days.

Now as I recall her appearance, her fist born, Amir Harith is her carbon copy. A happy and bountiful baby.

How she adores her son now, was pretty much similar to how I had adored her as my first born. Looking at her chubby face, her smiles and her chuckles, had really taken all my worries away.

My office mates in the Citizen's Advice Beaureau, (Jane Brunwin, Dorothy Moss, Ishrat and Manjit) had earlier given me their grown children's clothings and sheets and jumpers and all. So they really fitted her well. My adopted mom, whom I called Mom Estelle of Jewish nationality, sent a big present when we shifted from Leeds. Mother-care brand helped a lot. It was not as expensive as found here. Then the National Health Services gave us tokens for free milk. Along came other benefits as well.

At the age of three, I was so eager to get her into a kinder garden. I had to travel on a train to a place called...(ops! I have forgotten what it was called) but it was about two kilometer away from Lake Shore, Cramlington where we once lived. She was so upset to be among the strangers and cried when I left her. But was eager to go each morning when I dressed her up. It was most probably the train ride that must have excited her.

Then one day, the lady next door told me to register her at the nearby center. Is there one nearby? Each morning, we would walk along the paths in snow covered grass and watched the "smoke" coming out as we breath. Other neighbours joined us too. The school was only a few minutes away. I was so innocent that I did not ask Linda who lived in the next block of apartment about any school nearby.

There was this cute spiky haired boy whom I had nick named him GW. Tasha was amused by him. He could not sit still in class. He was probably Hyper-active. He has so much energy to go round and stack up the chairs and kept getting busy all the time.

Not long after, we were leaving and home we came.

Kinder garden in Kajang was different from the one previously attended by her. But here, we have our relative, Cik Gu Wan Hafsah as the headmistress. A very familiar figure because she lived just 4 doors away from us.

By this time she kept a very long, fine and black hair. It was well kept but by the time she was going to the another kinder garden, I had to persuade her to have a shorter hair. She was ever so reluctant about it. The first historic hair cut with tears was witnessed by me, her younger sister and ME of course.....the hair dresser!

After completing her primary one, which she remembered so well about her early morning going to school by a van, we shifted yet again to another place. Each morning I took her to school and fetched her from school until she completed her primary six. Her secondary school was also in the same zone.

Then it was time to leave for a boarding school which was the same school attended by me and La Vie en Rose...At once she became our super duper junior. Since then we only met her on her school holidays.

Once she completed her secondary education, she was in UM for her Metrics. One and a half years later she was in UH pursuing her degree in medicine. After completing her degree, she started working in the same teaching hospital and three years later she was married to Amir Harith's father.

Although she has grown up since, there is a little part in her as a Child In My Heart...

She has been so thoughtful and helpful to us all. Making sacrifices anytime the need arises to all the members of our family. She has what I called, a wonderful heart, a heart of gold and a wonderful thought for everyone. She is very rich at heart. Thank you Tasha for being there for us all...

Moments shared with you were those tearful moments of our lives together. We talked and shared tearful memories and wiping tears together..........AND together we shall live until the end although it may or may not be under different roofs. You have my kind of heart, a heart that is full of determination, guts and strong will power. Alhamdulillah.

Joys of your successes were equally shared by us all. Laughters, smiles and joyous moments also with tears...were shared. Congratulations. You made it through and through. Now you already started having a family of your own, thus it is now your duty to raise a happy family with Iman, following the True and Right Path...Insyaallah, Allah would show you the light and ways because you have such a beautiful and wonderful heart!

May Allah Bless you with a Wonderful and Blessed Life. I hope you would become a successful Muslim female doctor, a happy wife and mother. THANK YOU for all your kind deeds. Only Allah would repay you.

I LOVE YOU TASHA for being a wonderful daughter.

THE LITTLE LADY NEXT TO ME

Each time school holidays begin, she would be home regardless of the weather be it rainy, stormy or sunny. Her time was absolute, her punctuality was no compromise...there she was smiling and opening her arms broadly to hug her mom whom she has left for quite a while...who would always welcome her home...home sweet home to be with her siblings.

Most times the bundles of homework given by the teachers took her away from us all. We only see her at meal times. Other than that, her time was homework's time and home tuition. But lucky me, the little lady lives just next to me. She would share almost everything with me in my little bedroom. Often I saw her sleeping early and getting up in the middle of her sleep to complete her work. So this bed mate was not so much a bed mate after all. She took a nap while I was busy working.

There was no way to reciprocate all these. Wait until her exam would be over, perhaps I would see more of her in bed at bedtime. 10 days went by and she was ready to leave. She popped in 10 days ago and 10 days later, was ready to go again. Never mind, that was the place I prayed she would be. It would be better for her and her future.

I was as much like her too. Surely my Ma would have felt the same way as I do now. I did do the same "popping in and out" of her house too...may be slightly longer period...14 days of school holidays.

Empty side of the bed would only be occupied the next time she popped in again.