Selamat Hari Raya

Boy, am I glad to be back on blogosphere! My Internet connection was really acting up for the past few days; apparently, the connection had been erratic for the whole neighbourhood. Anyway, I'm glad I'm in time to wish all a "Selamat hari raya. Mohon maaf sekiranya tersilap kata, terkasar bahasa, tersinggung rasa. Semoga kita diberkati dan dirahmati Allah".

I don't suppose I'll have time to blog for the next few days - if previous rayas are anything to go by! Hope by that time the connection would have improved & I'll be able to post as usual. Would be nice to be able to just sit down after all the flurry and the fluster :)

These last few days have not been good for me - health-wise, that is. With the weather vacillating between rain and sunshine, I found myself a little under the weather, with a throbbing headache thrown in. Or is it the fasting? Or the age? A bit of all, I think. But I only needed to go to the surau to dispel whatever bouts of self-pity I might have. And, for a dose of humbling experience!

During buka puasa with the women, the conversation revolves around who's got what. And I'm not talking material here. With most being in their mid-60s, and a handful in their 70s, they're talking ailments. A says she can't take salt; B says she has to cut down on santan; C complains of high cholestrol; D speaks of reduced sugar intake; and the list goes on... And while I count myself lucky, alhamdullilah, that I am not yet afflicted by any of these (not that I know of, anyway), I am reminded of the need to control my diet.

For solat, some of them have to sit; some struggle to get into one position from another; and some others simply remain in one stance - because of aching limbs, bad back, and no-longer-supple joints. But solat they do. And most endure the 20 rakaat for terawih prayers - every night. So telling of a case of "the flesh is weak, but the mind is willing". Will power at its most potent, don't you think? Again, I am reminded - of the need for regular exercise.

So what's a slight fever, running nose, and headache?

My husband decided that the house needed a new coat of pain, and I couldn't agree more. We were only going to have the exterior painted since it needed a facelift badly, and the interior painting would have to wait - until we can afford it, and when we have decided on the colour.

But, boy, was I in for a shock. First, the painter turned out to be a woman whose "Assalam mualaikum" couldn't be more chirpy. And, she's Chinese. Second - after barely a day's work, the garden was in shambles. She had to first remove the old coat of paint by peeling it off using a water-jet which left zillion bits and pieces of paint scattered on the ground. Not a pretty sight, I tell you. And, naturally, the flowers, the trees, the leaves, and everything else in the garden were not spared either. The garden path - if you can make it out - was completely covered in flakes of paint, rendering it a patch of white (the colour of the previous coat). An utter mess.

I feel sorry for my husband. He, with the green fingers, was the 'architect' of the garden which he started from scratch 3 years ago. He looked forlorn just looking at the chaos; possibly even wondering if it would be a 'garden' again. Me? I'm wondering if I'll survive the clean-up job next week.

A Linen Loss

I was upset this morning - over a white linen top that never found its way home after a visit to the dry cleaners. A phone call to them inquiring about it only got back a negative answer, much to my chagrin. I don't know what upsetted me more - the loss of the blouse or the blase attitude of the proprietor!

If nothing else, an attempt on their part to look for it would suffice. Even the appearance of an attempt. Instead, I got this rather terse voice on the other end of the phone which, in no uncertain terms, declared that they had been very careful with everything that we sent to them, and were very sure that no item had gone astray! He even implied that I might have been careless and had misplaced it. If only he knew the care I accord to all my possessions, not least to an item of dress! I'm far from infallible, of course. But, misplacing a blouse? No way! Anyway, that put paid to any further attempt on my part to discuss the matter. Furthermore, I was fasting and didn't want to pursue it lest my temper got the better of me.

We send clothes to them for dry-cleaning by the dozens, and the bill each month is no paltry sum. I expected at least some form of acknowledgement of our 'loyalty'; some kind words, some empathy. After all, it isn't as if their system is altogether fault-free. They would count the number of items you send, rather than itemise each piece. So, chances are...

I have turned my closet inside out, but to no avail - reinforcing my certainy all the more that I had included it among the other items for dry-cleaning. My husband - true to his sympathetic self - suggested that I get a replacement instead of fretting about it. It won't be the same, I tell you. Do men even know the extent women go to when picking out an item of wear? When I want to buy something - particularly a top - I would have the visual in my head, and would trudge through each mall until I find the exact piece that fits my mental picture. And so it was with the linen top. White is an easily available colour for a top; but I doubt if I can find the same one now.

So, I will continue to agonize over the loss - till I find a replacement - for the blouse and the dry-cleaners.

Buka Puasa

During Ramadhan, the families in Taman LT would buka puasa together at the neighbourhood surau. Each family would contribute a certain sum for the morei based on the minimum per head required by the caterer. Over the years, the number has dwindled because most of the children have left the nest, leaving only the parents. So now, at the most, there would be 5o people every night - with an average age of 65!

It's quite a good tradition really. Apart from forging the silatulrahim among the residents, it means that the elderly and the lonely would not have to cook for themselves, and would have company for buka puasa. It also means that there would be more than a mere handful making up the jemaah for the maghrib prayers as all those present for buka puasa would then adjourn to the prayer hall for solat maghrib. As most of our houses are within a stone's throw from the surau, we would go home after the solat maghrib and congregate again for solat insya and tarawih.

I moved here three years ago because my husband wanted more leisure time (for golf and gardening) which he couldn't get enough of in KL. As for me - though very much the KL girl at heart - Ipoh is my birthplace, so I had little reason to protest the move. So, while I'm relatively new to the community here, it didn't take me long to assimilate; after all, I speak the 'lingo' and you can't get more local than that!

Anyway, during my first Ramadhan here, I noticed that most of the women would come armed with several pieces of plastic bags and rubber bands. My curiosity was put to rest when, as soon as buka puasa ended, the women would bring out their plastic bags and fill them with the leftover food, which occasionally would be quite substantial. This then would be their sahur meal, obliterating the need to cook. So, for the price of one meal, you can actually get two. If you don't mind having the same food again, that is. Of course some would say they are tapau-ing for their cats. Whatever. At least the food don't get wasted.

Daylight Robbery

Last night, the 'breaking news' for breaking fast at the surau was the recent spate of break-ins in the neighbourhood. The latest casualty - Che O, a seventy-something woman who lives alone in a double-storey bungalow that has been her abode since the late 70s. She had turned in for the night, and was rudely awakened by noises at an unearthly hour - around 3 am. The intruders were trying to enter her bedroom which, fortunately, she had locked, and it was when they were fiddling with the lock that she became aware of them. She screamed her lungs out, and that sent them scampering.

With the arrival of the police, Che O discovered that the intruders had actually gathered together the stuff that they had intended to cart away - some electrical appliances, household items, and even the gas tanks from the kitchen. You would think that they had the 4-wheel drive or a one-ton lorry on standby to cart away the spoils of their 'adventure'! Obviously planned, although they did not plan on the old lady being home that night.

Not too long ago, we were alarmed by the theft of man-hole covers - by someone with a penchant for besi lama - to feed a trade that has seen prices go through the roof. For houses that have been left vacant for long periods, or those awaiting new tenants, nothing that is the semblance of besi is spared. Gone are the window and door grilles, and even the gate! We were sure that these thieves operated during the night when everyone was fast asleep. We couldn't have been more wrong. 'Witnesses' said they saw a couple of men at the house, mid-morning, furiously at work - removing the grills and gate - and thought they were the owner's workmen; so, didn't bat an eyelid! The immediate neighbour - the lady-of-the-house herself - decided to be friendly and tegur them with "Rajinnya!" To which they replied - nonchalantly - "Mestilah, Mak Cik; nak cari makan!" Of all the nerve... And she thought them "too young-looking to be thieves". So much for stereotyping!

And yet, we know better than to go around suspecting every Tom, Dick or Harry (or rather, Mat, Meng and Mutu) that appears to be even remotely suspicious. Closeby, in the next neighbourhood, the intruders operate during the day when most men are at work, leaving only the housewives and children at home. Nowhere is safe these days; not even in your own home. Whatever happened to 'rumahku, syurgaku'?

When they fled Che O's house, they left behind a grim reminder of their visit - a parang! Scary, isn't it? To plunder your belongings is one thing; but, doesn't that tell you that they might not be averse to hurting people as well?

The most worrying is the fact that most of my neighbours are retirees. Many couples are in their seventies, living on their own, while some are widowed. They are hardly in a position to fight off any intruder, and are therefore easy prey. I'm no spring chicken either, and am home alone during most part of the day. I am very much a homebody and relish my time at home. Until now - when even the slightest sound in the garden would make my heart skip a beat. When I'm alone at night, I am like a nervous wreck. And, fast developing a phobia for 'home alone'.

Joss Stone-You Had Me

[via FoxyTunes / Joss Stone]

This is my favourite from Joss Stone. It is so upbeat. When she was discovered at 17, a few years ago, she was hailed as a hit right away, and was predicted to take the music industry by storm. She actually did. Do you like it?

Ramadhan is here again.

Today, the 1st day of Ramadhan, it is raining ceaselessly. Can't complain really; it must be the Al-Mighty's way of helping us cope with the fasting. Better rain than the unrelenting heat these past few days that has left you dry and withered. Rain brings life to a standstill, with a tinge of gloom. It is the after-the-rain atmosphere that I look forward to - nature comes alive in its true colours. Rain is nature's cleansing agent. The leaves are awashed in all the myriad shades of green, having been 'washed' of the dust and dirt. The flowers seem to bloom in real earnest - like a young girl sticking her head out to catch the breeze. The roads have had a 'bath', beckoning you to walk on them barefoot. There is the smell of freshness and an air of vitality. Life reborn and rekindled. My spirit is uplifted, ready for another day. Rain! Rain! come again.