Legendary Cocoa Cookies

16 September

Today, I spent half a morning baking my legendary cocoa cookies.  What is special about these cookies is the ingredients used, which include not only wheat flour, but also tapioca flour, custard powder, and also corn flour.  It made the texture really light. And these cookies is made even special by the special concotion that I used to glaze the cookie, i.e. whipped eggs, creamer, vanilla essence and thick cocoa powder.

The minute you popped this into your mouth it would melt. My.... it's really yummy. And I'm very sure, before we welcome Raya my kiddos would have finished half the cookies. And for that reason, I have decided to bake two portion, instead of just one.

Birth Station, Platform 1

28 October 2009, Wednesday (Zulkaedah) 

Dearest Abang, Adik, Ina, Ayie. Do you want to hear this story?



On 16 October 1959, after a long and difficult labour, a little girl emerged into the world and her mum and dad named her Wan Sallehah Wan Mahmood. I was told later by my late mum that of all the deliveries she had to endure, mine was the most arduous as my neck had been entangled with the umbilical chord and I was already turning blue when the midwife delivered me at Jalan Bidara, Kampung Ubi, Singapore.


It was really unfortunate and sad that I couldn't recall my life and infancy at Jalan Bidara at all. Despite looking at photos of me at Jalan Bidara, my mind simply refused to recall this period. However, I have vague memories of my childhood at Jalan Lada.


Anak Cina


My House at Jalan Lada






Sickly






Childhood Station, Platform 2
The first 10 years of my life was spent in Singapore at both Jalan Bidara (absolutely no recollection at all) as well as Jalan Lada (vivid recollection). And I enjoyed my childhood tremendously. I remembered playing all the kampung games, as opposed to the super hi tech games that my kids and other kids indulge in today. I remembered studying at Jalan Eunos School, which wasn't too far from my house, but my parents hired a trishaw to take me to school everyday.


The Kmpung Games


Jalan Eunos School


The Trishaw


My friends


Gula Tarik


Sanggul Mak Inang


Doll Jelly


Neighbour Electrocuted by Fan

Happy Memories

Painful Memories

Mugging Station, Platform 3

Slogging Station, Platform 4

Marital Station, Platform 5

Motherhood Station, Platform 6

Semi-Retirement Station, Platform 7

Retirement Station, Platform 7

Blogging Station, Platform 8

My precious pumpkin

When time stood still

Last night we had a real scare.And I mean a real scare, a moment when time stood still, and we were gasping for breath and our heart eventually stopped beating. It had been real ages when we were last jolted from our sleep with the ringing of the phone in the stillness of the night. And those days, when the phone rang in the middle of the night or in the wee hours of the morning, it only meant one thing. Either our closed ones were in some kind of trouble, accidents had befallen them, or worse still, a death had happened.

So, early this morning, at precisely 12.05 a,m., after both my husband and I had dozed off, I heard the persistent ringing of his phone. My heart missed several beats, and although I couldn't hear exactly what had transpired between him and the caller, I could sense that something awful had happened judging from his body language. The minute he ended the call, his body bent over, and with hands covering his face, he sobbed uncontrollably. I was really shaken and I kept asking him to tell me what had happened.

Somehow I had this instinct that something had happened to my sister-in-law, who underwent operation recently. Despite recovering well, her condition seems erratic.

And my instinct was proven right. My sister-in-law, who is my husband's only sister, and one whom he'd give his limb to had been rushed to a hospital in Bangi around 10.30 p.m, as she was having fainting spells and high bp reading despite not having any problem with her blood pressure prior to the operation.

After a brief examination, the hospital had advised her family to take her to Putrajaya hospital where all her records are kept, so she was rushed to Putarajaya in an ambulance.

Apparently the doctor who had examined her had told my brother-in-law that she could be haemorrhaging in the brain or had probably suffered a stroke.

Imagine hearing this kind of news happening to your loved one. I bravely comforted my husband who kept crying softly. I calmly woke my second son up and told him what had happened. I was hiding my fear for the sake of my husband but deep inside, my heart was screaming and my chest felt as though it was exploding. This couldn't have happened to her. We were just chatting away on Watsapp earlier in the afternoon, and all indications pointed to a good but slow recovery. In fact, I was excited with her recovery progress because that would mean that she could join us for the "merisik" trip we were scheduled to go next weekend.

Both my husband and I dressed quietly. Just as were about to leave for the hospital, we heard the door bell ringing. My eldest son, who had married recently,  had arrived from Seremban with his wife and daughter.  When my son approached my husband to salam him, again he broke into a wrecking, soul and heart-breaking sobs. I could see the distraught look on his face.I was devastated.

We drove in silence until we reached the emergency ward of the  hospital. I can imagine what had gone through my husband's mind, the fear and torment he was suffering. With the passing away of my parents-in-law, my father-in-law in 2010, and my mother-in-law in 2008, my sister-in-law is the only close kin he has, someone whom he loves dearly and would give his life to.

Once we reached the emergency ward of the hospital we were greeted by her sons who related to us what had happened. We waited at the waiting lounge and offered a silent prayer. About 15 minutes after we arrived, I saw a door opening and was hugely relieved to see my sister-in-law being wheeled out of the treatment room by her husband. My husband rushed to hug her and kept kissing her face and forehead. I can imagine how relieved and happy he was.

My brother-in-law later explained that after the doctor had examined her, they did not concur with what the former hospital had diagnosed as her symptoms were not consistent with the earlier diagnosis. And they had advised her to rest at home.

We then saw them to their car, and once again, my husband enveloped her in a tight embrace kissing her face and forehead repeatedly. It was as though he did not want to let her go. It was as though he couldn't believe that she was alright. We left after seeing them off.

In the car, my husband had softly and quietly told our sons and daughter in law, "Ngah is the only person I have in the world. There is no one else." I felt sharp tears springing to my eyes. But I held myself together and rubbed his shoulder and face softly. Ya Allah! The love of a sibling knows no bound!

I wish my sister-in-law speedy recovery and hope she'll recover fully.

Tini, we still need you for many more happy occasions we're celebrating this year and years to come. I love you my dear, and you know that you will always have a special place in our hearts. May Allah speed up your recovery and may Allah bless you.

DIALOG vs MONOLOG
 
aku bertanya?

kau bertanya?

kau bertanya?

aku menjawab

aku menjawab

kau membidas

kau membidas

aku menyimpul

kau bertanya lagi

aku menjawab lagi

kau membidas lagi

aku cuma mengalah

aku tidak kuasa

berdialog begini.

I'm back

Seems like the writing bug has hit me again, after a long hiatus.

If time is on my side and if I can have my own way, I would write every minute of the day. I would pen down (figuratively speaking in this day and age of cyber world) my thoughts, my feelings, my experiences.

I would share my life experiences. I would bare my soul. I wish I could and I would. In any case I'm back. And this time, I'm here to stay.

Demi Ramadan

Tahun ini Ramadan datang lagi
Tahun ini Ramadan menerjah kembali
Tahun ini Ramadan begitu indah sekali
Tahun ini berbuak-buak hati kecil ku ini
menyambut mu wahai Ramadan

Tahun ini Ramadan menyapa diri ku ini
Aku berTahajjud
Aku berTaubat
Aku berTasbih
Aku berHajat
Aku berWitir
Aku bermunajat
Demi Mu Wahai Tuhanku

Air mataku berguguran
Demi Ramadan
Demi Mu wahai Illahi

Alunan tasbih yang berkumandang
Meragut lubuk hatiku ini
Demi Ramadan
Demi Mu wahai Pencipta Alam
yang amatku kasihi

Kini
yang tinggal
hanya cebisan hari-hari terakhir Ramadan

Kan ku tangisi pemergian mu
Wahai Ramadan

Wahai Tuhanku, Ya Rabbbulalamin
Wahai Illahi
Tabahkanlah hati ku ini
untuk menghadapi hari-hari yang mendatang

Selamat tinggal wahai Ramadan
Moga-moga diriku ini
dipilih Illahi
menyambut kedatangan mu lagi
Akan ku nantikan kembalinya Ramadan
Wahai Ramadan
Mudah-mudahan...

Cemburunya masa dengan aku!

Dah lama tak memblog.
Sibuk.
Bosan.
Hari ni naluri nak memblog kembali membara.
Sebenarnya naluri memblog tu sentiasa menggambit.
Cuma masa mencemburui aku.
Masa tak mengizinkan.
Masa pantas bergegas lalu.
Banyak yang ingin aku perkatakan.
Banyak yang ingin aku luahkan.
Banyak yang ingin aku muntahkan.
Masa tolonglah aku.
Bantulah aku.
Masa janganlah kau mencemburui aku lagi.

Yesterday I cried...with an agenda

I came home, went straight to my room,

sat on the edge of my bed,

kicked off my shoes,

and I had myself a good cry.

I'm telling you,

I cried until my nose was running all over

the black jacket I got on sale.

I cried until my ears were hot.

I cried until my head was hurting so bad

that I could hardly see the pile of

soiled tissues lying on the floor at my feet.

I want you to understand,

I had myself a really good cry yesterday.

Yesterday, I cried,

for all the days that I was too busy,

or too tired,

or too mad to cry.

I cried for all the days, and all the ways,

and all the times I had dishonored,

disrespected, and

disconnected my Self from myself,

only to have it reflected back to me

in the ways others did to me

the same things I had already done to myself.

I cried for all the things I had given,

only to have them stolen;

for all the things I had asked for that

had yet to show up;

for all the things I had accomplished,

only to give them away,

to people in circumstances,

which left me feeling empty,

and battered and plain old used.

I cried because there really does

come a time when the only thing left

for you to do is cry.

Yesterday, I cried.

I cried because little boys get

left by their daddies;

and little girls get forgotten by their mommies;

and daddies don't know what to do, so they leave;

and mommies get left, so they get mad.

I cried because I had a little boy,

and because I was a little girl,

and because I was a mommy

who didn't know what to do,

and because I wanted my mummy and daddy to be there

for me so badly until I ached.

Yesterday, I cried.

I cried because I hurt.

I cried because I was hurt.

I cried because hurt has no place to go

except deeper into the pain that

caused it in the first place,

and when it gets there,

the hurt wakes you up.

I cried because it was too late.

I cried because it was time.

I cried because my soul knew that I didn't know

that my soul knew everything I needed to know.

I cried a soulful cry yesterday,

and it felt so good.

It felt so very, very bad.

In the midst of my crying,

I felt my freedom coming,

Because Yesterday,

I cried with an agenda.

Broken and Tattered

It hurts more than any physical pain

It pierces my soul

I can’t even breathe

I close my eyes

Trying to slow my pulse

Love

Broken trust

Broken hearted

Leads me to this exact moment

I feel the rain hit my face

Confirmation of my existence

I don’t want to exist

I don’t want to feel anything

Choices that are not mine to make

I stare into your eyes

Shock

The rain falls down your windshield

I breathe

You just drive away

Taking more than you know with you

My heart stopped several beats

The rain has washed away

Our future

Kenapa dah buang tabiat ke, demam ke?

Berderau darah Teja pabila melihat entri tersebut di FB sebagai balasan dari postnyer yang berbunyi "dont forget the day we met. It changes history at least for you and me."

Teja ikhlas meletakkan post tu di wall buah hatinya, namun hati Teja terhiris bagai sembilu apabila luahan hatinya dibalas dengan begitu rupa.

Teja sedih, teramat sedih. Air mata Teja jatuh berguguran tanpa disedarinya. Teja mengenang nasibnya yang malang. Teja langsung tidak mengerti hati budi kaum Adam. Teja termanggu kesedihan. Teja ingin membawa diri. Teja bergegas pergi. Teja terus hilang dari pandangan.

Helang dan katak

Di dalam buku Teach Yourself to Think, Edward de Bono memberikan contoh tentang dua ekor helang: salah seekor helang mempunyai penglihatan yang amat baik, sementara yang seekor lagi mempunyai masalah rabun dekat.

Kedua-duanya suka makan katak. Dari tempat yang tinggi, helang yang mempunyai penglihatan yang amat baik itu mampu melihat dan mengenal pasti katak, justeru akan menjunam lantas membahamnya. Sebaliknya, helang dengan penglihatan yang rabun itu pula akan menangkap setiap benda kecil yang bergerak; ia mungkin seekor katak, cicak, tikus, atau mungkin juga, pada waktu lain, acahan semata-mata.

Yang manakah di antara dua ekor helang ini yang anda anggap yang terbaik? Mungkin, helang dengan penglihatan yang baik. Menurut de Bono, helang kedua lebih baik, kerana ia lebih fleksibel. Jika tiba-tiba katak pupus, helang ini dengan mudah akan mampu meneruskan kehidupannya. Sebaliknya, helang yang mempunyai pandangan yang tajam dan belum belajar untuk mempelbagaikan dietnya itu akan mati seperti katak itu juga.

Inti pati daripada kisah ini menunjukkan bahawa anda boleh mengubah sebarang kekurangan menjadi keuntungan jika anda memiliki sikap yang betul.

Through the Eyes of a Child

There are only two things that a child will share willingly:
1/ Communicable diseases, and
2/ Its mother's age....

Painting picture by picture, I followed the parodies

my eyes took in the deep sadness

The lingering and haunting grief and sorrow

I painted only memories, adding nothing,

no details that I did not see.

Hence the plainness of the paintings,

their desolation and barrenness

the utter emptiness!

Simply love this:

SUAMIKU; AJARI AKU JADI BIDADARIMU

Ajari aku menjadi wanita yang pandai berhijab..
Ajari aku menjadi wanita yang bertutur kata santun..

... Ajari aku menjadi wanita yang berbudi pekerti mulia..
Ajari aku menjadi wanita yang sanggup menjaga kehormatan..

Jangan ajari aku bermaksiat.. Agar aku tidak tersesat..
Agar aku tidak menjadi wanita jahat..

Aku ingin menjadi wanita terhormat.
Yang akan selalu mendapat rahmat..

Aku tak sekadar hanya mencari pendamping..
Tapi aku memerlukan pembimbing..

Aku tak hanya perlu cinta semata-mata..
Tapi aku ingin seorang penunjuk ajar..
Perbaiki aku ketika salah.Ingatkan aku ketika khilaf..
Bimbinglah aku ke jalan yang lurus agar kelak aku bisa menjadi seorang makmum yang baik..

Aamiin ya Rabbal'alamin..
(Dari seorang Wanita)

23 May 2013

22 May 2013

My sweet gorgeous mummy

She would have been 84 on 18 April. Yes, she would. And she would look eternally youthful and beautiful. Yes, she would.

However, Allah loves her more. In any case, she was just on loan to us, her kids for a good many years. Mak,I miss you terribly. And I will always love you. You will forever stay at the base of my heart. Al-fatihah mummy.

The day Hilmi stole Ina from us

Preamble
Friday, 8 March 2013
A few months before her wedding, my only princess Khairina Izzati (fondly known as Ina) had said (pleaded would be more like it) to me, "Ma, could you please write something about my wedding so I can share in my blog?" And my nonchalant reply at that time was, "I'll try my best", but deep in my heart I knew that time wasn't on my side to pen down my thoughts and share my feelings with regards to her and Khairil's wedding as not only was I busy being a wedding planner, I was preoccupied too with my lectures and editing and translating work, not to mention, my housewifely duties.

Nevertheless, I managed to string my thoughts together when I had some time to spare during my vacation with my hubby in Laos shortly after my kids' wedding.

 

Picturesque view from my resort in Vangvien, Laos



 

 

 

Nam Ngum Lake, Laos



Sunset by the Mekong River (opposite my hotel in Vientianne, Laos)

And finally, after exactly a month, I forced myself to sit down to fine-tune my thoughts re Ina's nikah, despite my hectic schedule coz I knew if I don't, these thoughts would simply remain buried in a rubble at the back of my head. Here goes!

Friday, 1 February 2013
A week before her wedding, whilst we were busy getting my son's hantaran ready (dowry and gifts for the bride) for Khairil Syazwan's nikah (solemnisation) ceremony in Pahang, in the eastern side of Peninsular Malaysia which was a week earlier than Ina's, my sister-in-law Jude, and sisters, Wan Sofiah and Wan Kirah were gathered around a table. Ina was there and it was really hilarious to see how she squirmed in her seat and blushed from head to toe as her aunties relentlessly badgered her about her impending marriage. Among her female cousins, she's known to be very prim and proper, and diffident and self-effacing to say the least.

 

And as she was being ruthlessly and mercilessly bombarded and blitzed with inexorable and relentless questions from her intrusive and ‘cruel’ aunts about her impending first night, and the birds and the bees, my mind drifted.

Where did the time go? Didn't we just bring her home from Assunta Hospital the other day?



Now, she is all grown up and has just gotten married. Did I say that my daughter is now married?

How did this happen?

It’s surreal. You never think you’re going to see this passage of time, yet it tiptoes so softly behind you and then she becomes someone’s wife!! I actually have trouble comprehending this. It was only yesterday that Ina was born. I could clearly and vividly recall that day.

I had wanted a daughter, real bad. My first two kids were boys.

And when I was pregnant the third time, I had fervently prayed that this time Allah would bless me with a girl. He did. I thank Allah.







I was so obsessed and fixated with wanting a daughter that my password for access to everything IT-related at work and at home was her name (the foetus that was growing in my belly was named Khairina long before she was born).

 

In fact, this time around I did not bother to choose any boy’s name. I had only selected one female name, Khairina. Period! I couldn’t imagine what would have happened had it been a boy!







And till today, it brought to mind and evoked such strong memory and affection when I recalled the day she was born.

Thursday, 21 December 1989
Today is the 355^th day of the year 1989 in the Gregorian calendar. There are 10 days remaining until the end of this year. The day of the week is Thursday. And I am in the labour room at Assunta Hospital.

As I huffed and puffed and pushed, Ina struggled and wriggled from my belly and we heard the doctor exclaiming the magical phrase, “It’s a girl!”

Can you imagine our excitement? The feeling of exhilaration! It was really music to our ears. I recalled vividly how my husband, Amir Hussain had grabbed and grasped my hand....oh... so tightly that I thought he was going to break all my bones. He was simply overjoyed to hear it was a girl, the princess we had been yearning all these years that he hadn't realized how hard he was grasping my fingers. We had both shed tears of joy. We were elated and over the moon with this new addition to the family. I cried softly when the nurse placed her on my chest. It was the most beautiful and exquisite moment.

 

And 4 years later, in 1993, Allah blessed us with another boy, Khairi Imran. Now Ina has two older brothers and a younger brother. It's no wonder that most of the time she puts on a fiery stance when provoked. How can it not be when she's sandwiched between these male species!



 

 

 

 

 

And that completed our family of 3 boys and a girl.

 



Friday, 8 February 2013
Today is the 39^th day of the year 2013 in the Gregorian calendar. There are 326 days remaining until the end of this year. The day of the week is Friday. Today is Ina's wedding day. I guess the word is poignant.

 

 

 

 



When she and her new husband (Mohd Hafizul Hilmi Mohd Noor) exchanged rings after their solemnisation ceremony, I was overflowing with joy. My only princess was married, married to a great young man. She married at home in a beautiful ceremony with her loved ones around her, a lovely, worthy, exemplary daughter. As a mother I could not be more pleased.

My husband Amir was by far the most emotional. Throughout the nikah ceremony, I could see his eyes glistening. Every time he looked at Ina, I could see tears welling in his eyes. I was containing my tears from the beginning and almost until the end. (I also couldn’t have my mascara running down my face, could I? Someone had to be practical!)  :)

Earlier, I had actually whispered into my niece’s (Rifhan) ear when she asked me if I was holding up well and doing okay, and I had mustered all my courage (deep inside me, I was feeling this trauma of having to finally let her go), and replied, “No, I promise I won’t cry. I’d look awful with the mascara streaming down my made-up face!” She had burst out laughing.

Being enormously busy planning a wedding and reception did help to shield me from the emotions that had started to well up. It was really hard to contain my emotions. But I just kept acknowledging that it was a ‘good sad’ and that she would be with someone worthy of her love.

And at the same time, it was certainly difficult for me to curb my excitement and joy. She married a wonderful young man and they ‘dated’ in a very healthy and acceptable way (of course they did, and how could it not be when my husband and I were their CHAPERONES every time they met.)

After all, unlike most young couples these days, they NEVER went on any conventional dates, nor do they exchange loves notes. Despite her (what most friends and relatives would describe in the 20^th century) as prudish ways, I think, they are crazy about each other and I love to see them together.

 

But the thing that gives me the most pleasure is that my daughter and her husband are going into marriage with a clear understanding of what it takes to make a marriage work. And they’re excited to do the work. To borrow a quote from an article I read in a magazine, “Just like writing a novel, in a marriage, you have to work at it page by page, day by day. And if you stay with your story and characters, if you give your passion and talent and faith to the writing, and if after the bad days you still come back to the writing, well, you’re going to end up not just writing a novel but learning and growing by doing it. So with marriage.”

Yes, a happy marriage does take work, but it is not a dreary, heavy work but a creative, wonderful, sometimes difficult but self-evolving type of work. Anyone who has succeeded in the work of marriage knows that it is the most profound ‘work’ a human being can know. The trick is to go into one’s marriage with this awareness. If you choose wisely (I’m no expert but I’ve survived gratifyingly well after being married for the last 30 years in a sometimes stormy, but wonderful marriage), and apply the above wisdom, you will succeed in building a beautiful, profound marriage.

Friday, 8 February 2013 a.m.
On the day of her akad nikah (solemnisation ceremony), all around me was a whirlwind of events.

World chaos and family drama sometimes intertwined making it almost impossible to determine what the heck was going on.



 

The blessings coming my way were from the awareness of just how wonderful this event and the family dynamics appeared to be unfolding. It was creating a deep bond that was nothing short of miraculous. I thank Allah for having such wonderful siblings, in-laws and children who had been supportive from the time my eldest son got married the year before.

 

 

 

Friday, 8 February 2013 p.m.

When Shila (my first daughter-in-law) was applying make-up on Ina, I had tiptoed into Ina’s bridal room to peep. She couldn’t look prettier. She has lovely flawless skin and with just a little make-up her face was beaming with radiance and vivacity.

 After I had dressed up, I came by her room again to find her looking breathtakingly exquisite and ravishingly stunning in her beautiful off-white gown with a lovely matching veil. A little tear streamed down my face. I checked myself and remembered a promise I made to myself not to cry on her wedding.

Friday, 8 February 2013, 9:15 p.m.
From the top of the stair case, and as I looked down, I could see my husband looking despondent and downcast as he waited for the kadi to arrive to solemnise Ina’s wedding. I could imagine what was going on in his mind at that time. In a little while his princess would be given away.

 

Friday, 8 February 2013, 9:30 p.m.
When the kadi arrived, and as Ina descended the stairs, all eyes were trained on her. She looked ravishingly and entrancingly stunning.

 

And with one breath of a solemnised vow from Hilmi, Ina became his wife.

 



 



Humour, sweetness and love came through the entire evening. At long last, after several months of whirlwind preparations and till and toil, my daughter is now someone’s wife. But then again, she will always remain our princess. And my dear princess, here’s an ode to your new life!

Ina,
You were conceived…
and we awaited your arrival with great delight and pleasure!
You came into this world…
and our hearts gust with love and pride beyond words!

You were our baby…
our third born, our first daughter, A GIFT and the love we felt was immense and untold!
You grew and learned so much
in your first year that you never ceased to astound and amaze us!

At five months you were happily crawling up the staircase
And bellowed and cried at the top coz you didn’t know how to crawl down

You were so cute
And as we held you day and night,
We cherished…
Every “first”, every milestone…each magical moment
Our hands were there for you
When you needed it, through every learning experience
To help you up…
When you fell or to guide you in the right direction

It was hard letting you go
But as we walked hand in hand to your kindy
You displayed a fiery independence
And self confidence
When all other kids (your brothers included) cried and wept on their first day at school
You were happy to let go of our hands
You were ready
And you ‘showed us the way’

It was amusing to be told that your teacher had plastered your mouth
Coz you talked incessantly
You were such a chatterbox at school

When asked what you'd like to be when you grow up
Tongue-in-cheek you had replied "Cikgu Besar!" (Headmistress)

And, from dainty shoes
To braids and ribbons
To insects and butterflies
To dollhouses and barbie dolls
You had such a zest for life
And grew into a beautiful young woman!

You are caring
Compassionate, considerate and loving
You are more than we could ever have hoped for

And now …you’re married
You begin a new journey and we must learn to let go again
We want you to know
That we love you so…our baby… our daughter…our princess… our friend!!

Oceans of love and mountains of hugzz and kisses, 
Mama and Babah
8 March 2103

(Exactly a month since Hilmi stole you away from us)