A Revelation of Sorts

When the 2007 Ramadhan came, I was determined to embrace it with a deeper sense of meaning on a personal level.For several reasons - one of which being that I was preparing to go for my maiden pilgrimage (Haji) in November, and I wanted the journey to be a blessed one. Much has been written of the preparations that one needs to make for the purportedly physically and mentally taxing pilgrimage. For me, the journey began with the fasting month, and aptly so. For Ramadhan is not merely the act of abstaining from food and drink from dawn to dusk, but abstinence that extends beyond the physical as a manifestation of one's faith. In this holiest of months, I saw it as an opportunity to better myself as a Muslim, and in so doing, hope that I would be on the right path to embark on my spiritual journey in November. At my age, I am grateful for the ability to fast without fear of any repercussions on my health. And I am grateful to the Almighty for a lot more than that. I believe there comes a time in a man's/woman's life that he/she becomes spiritually enlightened, or more so, and my time is now. Although I have been a practising Muslim, I realise it falls short of the addin in more ways than one. For one thing, I have never worn the tudung as a manner of dress except when obliged on certain religious occasions. I had relegated 'dress' to form, not substance, and had somehow managed to rationalise my preference for a westernised mode of attire in so far as it was within the realms of modesty as I envisaged it.

And so it was at the start of Ramadhan that I began to don the tudung. In the beginning, to say that it was somewhat awkward was an understatement. Apart from wanting to look 'nice' in it, I was equally concerned about not wanting to look frumpy and old-fashioned, so I had to find a way to wrap the tudung in just the 'right' manner! This naturally was time-consuming, not to mention a tedious exercise in creativity. Slowly, I found my 'style'; nothing ingenious, but one in which I was comfortable enough not to shrink away from public view. My initial apprehension had nothing to do with being embarrassed or ashamed about donning the tudung; it was more to do with vanity. In time, however, it has bothered me less. I have made minor adjustments to the style, depending on the occasion, and have become quite adept at using the long or the square scarf. My only concession to vanity is that the colour should match my outfit, for fear of coming out in a riot of colours so gaudy it would make someone cringe. I have worn the tudung for over a year now, and can't see myself without it in public, or in the company of 'other men'. The bizarre thing about it is that I have even come to embrace it as an identity which I had forsaken for so long that I am ashamed to have done so and called myself a Muslim.

The Women Who Walk . . .

What used to be the polo grounds in former times, and now named the Taman Rekreasi Sultan Abdul Aziz is a haven for walkers and joggers. The 2.5km walk or jog on paved walkway round the park would provide ample exercise, especially for the ampler ones, with more than ample time. Or for men and women who have come to that phase in their life when exercise becomes crucial to their health, and a daily dose, albeit a mere stroll, would make a difference between mobility and stiffness in their joints. This could be one explanation for the demographics - where there always seemed to be more senior citizens than there are younger ones. And noticeably more women than men.

These women come in all shapes and sizes, adamant to take their place in the 'circle' - not unlike a congregation that has come to partake of a devotional ritual. Such is what it has become - this 'morning walk'. You would find the regulars there on the dot every day from as early as 5.30a.m. - religiously, five days a week - preferring to stay away on Saturdays and Sundays when the park is crowded with children, and their accompanying antics and noise might be too much for eyes and ears that have grown increasingly sensitive with the years. Some women walk alone, others in twosomes, foursomes or more. Couples (presumably husbands and wives) are a regular feature too. While some can clearly be seen to want to sweat it out, others just stroll, amble, saunter or trudge. The verdant green that Nature has so generously endowed on the park, and the pleasant landscape which the Majlis Bandaran has so deftly created make the walk - whatever the manner - rather refreshing actually. The recent addition of a fish pond complete with lotus plants only adds to the draw, and I see a couple of women feeding the fish with leftover bread from home. The crisp early morning freshness is no less enticing, I'm sure, and one has to catch it fast before the sun comes out in full force. Or could the encounter with like-minded friends be a pulling force? The walk - one round or two - almost always ends up either in pockets of animated discussion, hearty laughs or sheer joviality. Then there's the group exercise, a repetitive body movement intent on limbering you up, not to music, but to a count by means of a cassette recording in Chinese, with a leader to boot. The beauty of it - just about anyone can join in - no formality, no fee required.

And the exercise garb? For most, fashion is thrown to the winds, and why not? After all, they have come to 'walk' away their aches and aging pains and to be concerned about fashion would only be another pain in the neck (or wherever). So they come in whatever suits them, and you will see a parade of ankle-length skirts, patterned tights that was yesteryear's must-have, and all manner of stretchable pants or shorts that have seen better days. Of course there's always the handful who must stay trendy at all costs and would walk in the latest exercise gear, thanks to Nike and Elle, body shape notwithstanding. But for most of them I'm sure comfort and modesty dictate.

Since 2006, I have become part of this 'circle' and I walk as regularly as I can. Apart from getting the desired exercise, I have made some friends too. The adrenalin flow from the exercise does make for more willing smiles and lighter tongues. On days, when time permits, I join in the group exercise and now know every step by heart though I have yet to decipher the meaning as per the Chinese recording. Not that it matters.

MY BIRTHDAY

What I thought was going to be an uneventful day, turned out quite the opposite. Birthdays in my family have always been not much more than get-together over dinner, though usually of the more costly kind. Even presents don't figure very much as I wanted my children to value the occasion as a chance to be together as an expression of appreciation for the birthday-person's presence in their life, be it mother, father, or sibling - something no present can manifest.This time around, since my two sons were in KL, dinner would most likely comprise only the three of us - my husband, my daughter and myself. So I was thrilled to bits when my sons came home that evening, the eve of my birthday. Of course, my husband and daughter knew all along - they had planned it!

My birthday was on a Sunday, so we decided to have lunch at this famous 'ikan bakar' place. Another surprise was in store - my sister and her family , my sister-in-law and hers, and my brothers (2 of the 5) were there too! I was so happy that my birthday brought home the values that I hold most dear - family togetherness. I thank those who came, for sharing their time with me. It might not have seemed a big deal, but it was to me. My children gave me a decorative plaque to hang over the front door and 2 books. What can I say - they could read me like a book!!

And for the icing on the cake (there was no cake actually - someone was trying to tell me something!), my husband planted a tree in my name in our garden. A bunga tanjung tree - the one with tiny, white flowers that has a mild fragrance - that has been waxed lyrical in many a song and poem (in Malay). Such is the stuff that my husband is made of! And this is what I am writing about.

These are the kind of things he does that tug at my heartstrings, that remind me of the simple things in life that we often tend to forget in a world ridden with greed, materialism and deceit. It is not about what money can buy - it is the thought that you spend on someone, especially those you love. He is always mindful of our needs, more than of his own; always looking after our best interest. And he is this way even to other people around him. It is my fervent hope that my children will take after him in this regard because it would be the greatest gift to have, and the only one worth giving.

For this birthday, (and, I pray, for all those to come) I have the greatest thing that God can give me - the kind of person that my husband is, and for that alone, I celebrate.

Eligible no more!

For the last week, Perak has been on a high. Come Thursday, the excitement would reach fever pitch. Even our victory last Sunday as runner-up in the 2007 Sultan Azlan Shah Cup for Hockey - after an arid 20-year (?) participation - was no match. The state was jubilant when the palace announced that our Raja Muda was finally tying the knot. It was a long time coming. Tall, good-looking, educated and well-brought up, the Raja Muda is the epitome of a modern-day prince who couldn't possibly have had any difficulty picking a bride. That he finally did - albeit at 51 - is certainly cause for rejoicing. All this time, the speculations had been rife; the past years had seen the rumour mill on overdrive. We (the royal watchers!) thought he would end his bachelorhood at 30, but he didn't. Well, perhaps 40 then; after all, that was the proverbial 'turning point-age'. When 40 came and went, without so much as a glimmer, we gave up even talking about it!

Now that the moment is finally here, we are near-ecstatic. Any impending marriage is cause for celebration in one form or other. And when it is a royal wedding, it takes on a whole new meaning for the rakyat. Thursday, 17 May 2007 will be a day of reverie; the glitter and splendour soon to unfold will remind us that romance is in the air, and all is not lost in love. Perhaps even for the briefest of moments, the event would be a respite from the ills of the day manifest in murders, rape, theft, embezzlement, and what-have-you splashed across the local dailies. We will witness a wedding not unlike a fairy tale when the Prince begets his Cinderella. The Perakians and others not fortunate enough to merit an invitation to the wedding, will have to make do with the coverage on TV, giant screens and newspapers. But it will be no less joyful.

But what touched the right chord in me was the Prince wanting to foot the bill for the wedding. What a princely gesture! He refused what is a rightful allocation for an heir to the throne. An unprecedented step. It was a magnanimity so becoming of one who will one day be a head of state that it bodes well for Perak. His invitation of the less priviledged to share in the merriment epitomises his empathy for his people. If nothing else, for this alone, I am proud to be a Perakian. To the Raja Muda, I wish you well as you embark on this phase of your life. May Allah bless you; may you continue to shower us with your generosity and altruism.

Wedding Dilemma

A 'Datin' friend called yesterday - in her usual frenzied manner - to tell me that she was making preparations for her son's wedding in June. I could sense her excitement; after all, this is going to be her maiden effort and she wants everything to go silky smooth. In earlier conversations (the wedding was fast becoming a preoccupation), she mentioned about wanting it to be a "nice" and "simple" affair. This time around, in one breadth, she blurted out the series of discussions she had with her husband while going through the whole gamut of the Where, Who, When and How and was quite exasperated ( and tired, no doubt) by the time she got me on the phone. (See what husbands can do to us poor wives?? ).

Deciding on the venue was a piece of cake - having it at the house was out of the question; it just isn't done these days. Even if it means changing the date several times to get the desired venue. You may have a palatial bungalow, but an offspring's wedding has to be at a hotel (4star at least). The reason? You'll see. So the choice of venue had been decided quite easily without fraying any tempers.

As to the 'How' bit - that too resolved itself along with the venue. Surely in your wildest dreams, you didn't think for a minute that the Datin would be doing the cooking, did you?

So, the bone of contention? You've guessed it - the guest-list, of course. First, the number. Her husband, the Dato', wanted 1,000 invitees because he couldn't possibly omit any one from his varied circle of business and political contacts, he said. The latter would definitely swell the number. The wife contends that these 'contacts' are mere acquaintances of his (and strangers to her) and therefore should give way to more friends and relatives. She was mindful of his relatives from the kampong who would come with their daughters/sons-in-law and grandchildren in tow although the card would imply quite the opposite. No way, he said. His 'friends' have to be invited if he expects to retain whatever political clout he has ( no matter that it is only an imagined one). Or it would amount to a suicide for his fledgling political career and the death of his lofty ambitions. Never mind that half might not even turn up, given that he is no Ketua Bahagian or Cawangan or even a ketua bureau for that matter! Then comes the crunch - you can't invite the underlings and not invite the top brass of the party! So who makes an appearance on the guest-list? The no.# and no.# of the party bigwigs! Not to mention the entourage of bodyguards, personal assistants, chronies, and ubiquitous political sychophants (who sometimes begged to be invited).

So now you know how wedding guest-lists get drawn up (the Datin's, anyway). But my friend the Datin raved, ranted and rowed. She didn't want to feed 1,000 guests (although it would be the husband's money) and play host to total strangers. She would rather give the extra money to her son as he would need it to set up home. In the end, she won - the list would contain no more than 700. The Dato promised to dwell on it and do the elimination on his part of the 'guests'. And who would make up the 700? The wedding won't be till June - a good 3 months away. If I blog about the wedding in June, you'll know that I made it on the list. Otherwise, it would mean that I had suffered the axe for being 'persona non grata' to him. Being a friend of the wife's just won't cut it!

If it were my son getting married, I would have my share of the "important" people to invite too; only they would be the "imam", the surau's committee and sub-committee members, the Kumpulan Wanita of the area and the neighbours. Then again, hell knows no fury should I dare leave any of these people out!

Food for thought

The year started off well for me; no, not with fireworks, or dancing on the streets or any form of revelry for that matter. As far as I can remember, I have never had a new year herald in that way anyway (and I have had a lot of new years, believe me!). It was enough that my loved ones were all in good health, alive and kicking, and I was still able to wield the vacuum-cleaner without hearing a bone creak. Alas, I spoke too soon.

Two weeks ago, about elevenish, I got an sms from my other half on the golf course, that said a relative died in a car accident in Brisbane. He was the son of a cousin - a young man, not quite 25, the same age as my eldest son. I hardly knew him as an adult as he had studied abroad and was out of the country a lot. Still, I remember him as a rather laid-back teenager with a sweet nature. And then there was Matheus Mersing August from Bintulu - barely 16 - but robbed of his life in school which should have been his playground, not his deathbed. The news of death is always baffling, to say the least. And somehow it becomes more difficult to reconcile when it is the passing away of a young life. Is it any consolation that "the good die young"?

My heart goes out to both sets of parents, strangers or otherwise. As a mother, I can only understand and share their grief, but can never begin to fathom the depth of their pain. I hope time will help them heal and they can find solace somehow.

But what saddens me more is what Matheus was subjected to at his school. Was it merely a 'ragging' incident among a group of immature schoolboys? Staggering thought, isn't it? There was ragging in my university days, but I have yet to hear of a beating case. What could possess such young minds to hurt one of their own in such a manner? If you had been reading the papers, you would recall that this is not the first of its kind. So don't tell me that this is a remote case, and then forget about it! Young people seemed to be easily provoked these days and their retaliation is nothing short of violence. Am I making a mountain out of a mole-hill? You decide; at least I know you are giving it some thought. If I still had children in school, no matter where, I would be careful, very careful...

So, does it still look like it's going to be a good year? I hope, I hope. After all, there is the education 'revamp'. Remember the Education Blueprint? It's only the 2nd month of the year, so don't blame me for being optimistic. The fact that the powers-that-be realised the need for changes in the national education system is already laudable.

Relief...!

I am a true novice at this blogging thing, although I must admit that I have been a frequent visitor to blogs of others, including yours, Lydia Teh, of the "Honk! If you're Malaysian" fame! How do I even begin my blog? What do I say or write about? Well, taking the cue from established writers, I should write about something I know well. Having been on this planet for more years than I care to count (aka old, by any standards), I do know quite a lot about quite a few things. So, where do I start? With something close to my heart. Until something 'better' comes along.

Today my second son starts his first day at work, at a bank in KL. I am relieved that he is finally settling down to a job (not yet a career) after weeks of lepaKING at home. He returned home after almost 4 years away with a "forget how to read, forget how to write - just wanna lepak" maxim. Yeah, oklah. For one month. Then, after 2 months, I started to panic- is this guy ever going to work or not? I have never seen him scan the job ads in the newspapers and when I broached the subject, I got this shrug of the shoulder and little else. What was I to think?And this from someone whose ambition is to own a BMW when he is 30. Get real, get a job first....I hear myself saying for the umteenth time. But my fears were actually baseless; he had attended a couple of interviews abroad before coming home and was quite optimistic about a couple of them. (Was this over-confidence, positive-thinking or what??). And, he had been applying for jobs - through the Internet - without my knowing it. All this while I thought he was merely chatting up his buddies (and girlfriend) when he was glued to the computer. So much for a mother's misgivings. You can't blame me really; after all, he had studied overseas on MAPA scholarship. That's right - not MARA, but Mama & Papa's hard-earned, blood-sweat-and-tears
savings and the last thing I wanted was to see him fritter that away as a couch-potato. Not that we couldn't feed him anymore; but I was afraid he might become self-indulgent and enjoy the lepaking too much for his own good.

So, you can imagine my relief when he was called for a second interview with the bank about three weeks back and got a job offer a couple of days later. Phew!! :) That was no means the end of my worry. Next question was - was he going to accept or not? My husband and I were beside ourselves trying to persuade him that it was a very good offer. He didn't have to stay with the bank if he wasn't happy with it, but even a short stint was worth it for the experience, we said. You see, he was harbouring (still is, I'm sure) thoughts of working overseas. He had said repeatedly that working overseas would be an invaluable experience and he was prepared to face the challenge of proving his mettle on foreign soil. Even if it was only for 2 or 3 years, he said. But I had 'missed' him for the last 4 years when he was away studying. The prospect of losing him for the next few years was a gloomy thought; more so now when my husband and I are nearing our twilight years. It was bad enough that he was not with us for the birthdays, the weddings, the kenduris, the Rayas, etc. over the last few years.

So now you know why I am relieved - he has accepted the job! At least for now, he is only 2hours away by car. He can come home to Mama's cooking when he craves for it and not have to fly home. I can call him on the phone without having to worry about the bill and the time of day. And I can drop in on him when next I go to KL. Till when? I'll cross the bridge when I get to it