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.

WHY I SENT YOU AWAY

LARA, perhaps one day we should write a book about your life's true experience...this one is about you and your little girl...I hope we could share with other SM out there...

FARi, you were the only person who were constantly by my side each day, each night, and were present almost every moment of my breath that I took, except when you were in school. All the going-ons, happenings, joys and problems were shared and none were being spared from your ears. Unfair? You were right. It was true, it was not fair. You were so young and fresh to understand what had happened to your mother. Your were unjustly exposed to all these events in life.

It was not fair too that I have left you and your other siblings to be under the same roof as your father. But lessons were to be taught. Let those untrue stories proved them wrong and let you learn the truth somehow. It was not fair! Yes, I know dear.

Then came the story with this helpful friend of mine who were so sincerely helping us through and through until one day, things were so suddenly and abruptly cut off. And the knight in shining armor who acted to be so fatherly and lovingly entertained all of us, dining constantly in his residence and of course "trapped our feelings" with all those things that people could not see with their normal naked eyes.

You went through what I went through. You grew up too soon for your age and it was not fair for you at all. I knew them all. You had all the answers to my problems. You were so matured with your suggestions and they proved reasonable. Thank you dear Fari. You have always made my days and I must say, I love you very much and so sorry I made you grew up too fast.

You fell in love with this '"step father-to -be" because he showered you with love, care, devotion like no fathers would ever do (and most of all, .....deception..this vary fact, none of us had noticed)! Of course as you admittedly said it, you have never had this kind of treatments even from your own paternal father. The day the sad news came, it was fortunate that the phone was in my pocket. The message was read: Fari, uncle would be busy from now on to prepare for my .....and getting ready for my wedding!!!!!!!! What? You little devil.

Fari was ever so upset and did some re-checking with your driver who frequently visited us. It was true. You were leaving all of us. Have some respect for this young lady and stop being a coward. Face her personally and break the news to her gently and with reasons. Grow up, be gentleman and face facts. Coward! You were being so cruel. I was sure she could understand you perfectly well had you explained to her.

Then things came crumbling down, tumbling down and shattered. They were totally wrecked, flabbergasted, full of untrue, strong and unjust accusations. I was trembling in fits as I was reading your "strong words" while in the waiting room of Istana Negara, one day in 2001. Your sms were written while you were on your way to the airport, as your driver told me later. As the extremely heavy torrential fall and thunders were heard and felt, everything in there sent a strong chill down my spine. They attacked me like a very strange kind of stabbings inside me. They were incredibly indescribable. After I delivered the "gifts" to the ADC to the King, I left with the escorts from the palace officers to my car. I could not drive out then. You had dropped a bomb on my chest! You were a pro...I was not the only apparent victim to you. You killed too many souls and you used so many weird tactics to vanish "souls" from your wicked head.

But of course things had happened for some reasons..."Blessings In Disguise" as they say. Only Allah knows best, He had protected me from another blunder in my life. Apparently, Protected and Prevented me from living with another liar, in his world which were full of deception, lies and horrors.

Fari, a few times you cried on the way to school and I was very horrified and worried sick about this, in case they would disturb your studies. You asked if you could go and visit him in his house after "our" friendships has ended. To all those requests, I turned you down. I was so afraid, all those happenings might have adverse effects on you. Things have got to end up abruptly. "Feelings were sort of trapped" and unexplainable force were playing inside us. Yet we could not see.

Fari, I told you to do your level best in your exam and I would want you to go to a boarding school. Reasons? Any particular reasons? YES dear, there were plentiful if you allowed me to list them down. Whilst I could, I should mention a few here. I wanted you to have a proper time for studying, for other activities, to have a better and proper control over yourself, to be in different environments amongst friends of your age group and I want you to stop listening to my stories day in and day out. I want you to be independent, thriving in your studies which would affect your future, managing yourself well and be a survivor. I have noticed that you grew up too fast and looked more matured than most friends of your age.

Satisfied with my excuses, reasons and answers? Yes, you should be. You were going to survive, no matter what. Stubbornly I put you through to a boarding school. Of course you did not like the new environment in the beginning. But as time went on, new friends were made, confidence levels were secured and increased, your were given responsibilities in class and in games which made you finally settled there. BUT emotionally I never asked you how it affected you. I strongly believed that you were strong, versatile, independent, strong headed and authoritative, do you know that?

Yes, you managed well enough. All the best to you. Something that I have not told you before, was that, due to this "attachment" that you had with this uncle, I was so very afraid until today to develop or even to start another relationship with any man although they came along with good intentions (in one way or another). Fari, for the time being, this is my extra sacrifice for you for being a great listener and for being my confidante in the past. I dare not think and dare not venture into this anymore, in case you would get disturbed all over again which would disrupt your studies.

I love you.