Wednesday, 23 December 2009

Finally the struggles lessen....

Professor Gray has reviewed my write-up and provided encouraging comments on my study plans. He even forwarded to me a copy of his coming article on disclosure indices and content analysis for guidance. Alhamdulillah, I can now steer my study confidently at the right direction. Dr. Saleh has suggested I appoint Professor Gray as consultant, and I am very pleased with the idea of having a 'guru' to guide me in this lonely journey. Dr. Mazilah has also supported my arguments on the types of index to apply and led the way to the correct path. Dr. Devi and Dr. Anna are two moral supporters and I am very grateful for what they did to help me. My husband also provides strong supports, which, of course, in different ways unexplained here.

Everything seems to run smoothly on its track. What I need now is speed.

Monday, 21 December 2009

Funny meanings by improper usage


I would understand it if the language used is a foreign language and we're not so familiar with it. But I would also think that it is ridiculous to have someone saying something not of one's intention/meaning just because one can't understand own mother tongue. Pure intention of communication then becomes practical joke, as these pictures below explain themselves....

Pictures courtesy of

Saturday, 19 December 2009

A new day has come...

I am not saying I am a good person. But I am not bad either. Yet improvements are required here and there. As a mother to my children, wife to my husband, daughter to my parents, teacher to my students and finally nice person to my neighbour and everybody else.

My main resolution this new year (in conjunction to Awal Muharam) is not to delay the 5 times prayer everyday as I used to do in the previous. I also want to be a good wife and mother to my family. And finally, I want to take care of my old mother and make her happy. That's all. I dont want to be over-ambitious. Hopefully I'll manage to fulfill my resolutions.

Saturday, 12 December 2009

When rationalisation speaks for itself....

When the Israeli troops attacked the Palestinian Muslims at the Province of Gaza, resulted in the loss of thousands of innocent lives, Malaysia was one of the country that voiced out great disappointment and started petition to stop such inhumane actions. One of the campaigns launched was to boycott companies that support Israeli activities and mission. This includes the largest fast food chain companies - KFC, McDonalds and Pizza Hut.

I tried to educate my children how important it is in any means not to support the criminal activities indirectly.

"Kalau kita beli dan makan KFC, kita bagi duit kat orang Israel untuk bunuh saudara Islam kita"

So far, my children have been comprehensible. They obediently "quit" frequenting KFC and its sister outlets and kept telling themselves there are many options available for them.

Nevertheless, before the school term ended this year, my daughter showed me a terribly sour face and told me that her teacher was organising a 'get-together-after-exam' activity, her classmates were going to contribute RM10 per person and the teacher was going to buy KFC and they would eat together in class. My daughter refused to pay her portion. She refused to go to school on that particular day. I was touched by her determination.

A few days later it's my son's turn to show protest. He refused to go to school on the day his "school prefects" group organised a farewell party at McDonalds for the senior prefects from standard six. This time, I felt pity to my children. The impact of these fast food restaurants have on children is huge. Sometimes I think it's not fair for us parents to prevent the children from enjoying something they like just because there were conflicts and contradictions at higher levels. I was in dilemma for quite sometimes. How do I treat my children at KFC without paying for the bullets?

So when my husband told me he wanted to redeem his credit card points for the year end but could not decide what to have, I took this opportunity to redeem a RM50 KFC voucher on a pretext I don't actually spend a single sen from my pocket to buy KFC. This way, I will not be feeling too guilty. He agreed and arranged for the redemption.

The voucher was supposed to arrive about 3 weeks ago. Till this very day, my husband was still having arguments with the courier company on the delivery of the voucher. Because the issuance of the voucher was under my husband's name, the courier refused to release it to anyone else at home. Somehow rather, the voucher was always sent at the wrong time, first time when my husband was still at the office, second time when he was still on the way from office and had not reached home yet and the third time, he was out buying the school textbooks for the children. He was so frustrated waiting for the voucher and fighting over the phone with the representative from the courier office, that finally he decided to give up.

"Either you send me the voucher or not, it's up to you. I don't care anymore!!!"

So here I am, sitting in front of the laptop and writing this entry in my blog, thinking....

"Agaknya niat tu tidak pada jalan yang baik, sebab itulah sampai sekarang Allah tak makbulkan..."

Oh, well....(heavy sigh)

Thursday, 10 December 2009

Number one rule in parenting

Mom always gave me this one piece of advice that I'll remember till I die...

"Jangan suka mengutuk anak orang, nanti dapat balasan, anak sendiri yang tak betul"

Oppss....! Sorry. Story has been deleted.

Nak cerita panjang-panjang pun tak guna. Aku letak posting suruh ambil iktibar, si Mr Observer ni pulak tuduh aku macam-macam pulak. Ko tanggung la dosa bebanyak. Kulit badan ko kan kalis api...

MORAL OF THE STORY for the one who claimed that he deeply reviewed my blog:

Parents must be very sad and disappointed if they came to know that their children are treated badly by other people outside the family.

Saiz huruf ni aku kena besarkan sikit, sebab ada orang tak mampu berpikir untuk menilai apa mesej disebalik cerita yang aku sampaikan. Hampeh betul...

Doa orang yang teraniaya itu makbul...

I believe what goes round, comes round. Balasan tetap ada untuk setiap perbuatan. Be nice to other people, we'll be happy. Live a moderate life and be grateful with what we have, God has made everything beautifully and sufficient for us in many ways. We just have to open our eyes and say "Alhamdulillah..."

Tuesday, 17 November 2009

The K-O-C-I monster

This is Bibik Ana. She is my maid who has been working for me almost two years now. I have always told her she is my first maid ever working for me and she will be my last one. She loves to cook. If given the opportunity, she will cook almost everything she knows. Spicy dishes, all kinds of noodles recipes, cakes, doughnuts, curry puffs, chicken rice, etc..etc..etc... Just put the raw ingredients in front of her, she'll tranform them into something delicious. Hmmm...Not bad for an Indonesian maid. Not bad at all....

But then one evening, when I came home from work, my son rushed to the door to greet me and also to whisper an unexpected message,

"Ibu, bibik buat kuih koci hari ni. Pergi la tengok kat dapur"

Having said that, he gave me a wide smile and then ran upstairs. Hmm... that's weird! What's so funny about "kuih koci"? So I went straight to the kitchen and have a check on the dining table. WOW! What have we here?

Gosh! What are these? Are these KOCI? How come they look more like LEPAT?

Feeling curious, I took one of the koci and peeled open the banana leaf covering it. Soooooo greeeeeen!!!!!! Yikes! It did not look edible at all! This is the first time I saw a green koci in my life! Perhaps it's related to the family of the famous incredible hulk. Or perhaps Bibik Ana is revolting against my choice of colour for her dress I bought her during the recent Eid Mubarak celebration (I bought her a red baju kurung that looks 96% similar to the one I bought last year). Oppss...that's me being forgetful..!

And so an interrogation process was carried out on her new controversial invention. She confessed that that was the first time she made koci in her entire life and that she did not actually know the exact ingredient required to make one. She found the green colouring in the refrigerator and carelessly pour excessive amount of the liquid in the ingredient mix and then regretted it and prayed hard that it will not make the taste of the koci bitter.

Nevertheless, the taste was as nice as any other koci sold outside at the stalls. Huhu....! Weird koci... Green, big, square-shaped koci! Not bad at all....

Wednesday, 11 November 2009

I love you too...

Aliya has been so stubborn today. What got into her, I don't know but she just refused to listen to what I said to her. Instead, she purposely tested my patience by saying something that raised my temper. It was then too late when I realised that I was actually screaming and hitting her hard with the cane in my hand.

Having done that, I marched into my room and closed the door behind me. It took me some times to ponder on what had just happened. It was terribly disturbing to see the child enduring the amount of pain on her body without even twitching. That was so daring of her.

Suddenly a piece of paper appeared from under the door. It was for me. I took it and unfold it. From the neatness of the hand writing I know who sent the note. It read....

I hate you

I closed my eyes. There must be something wrong with the way I teach this child that she has the courage to write such words to me. I felt sad, defeated, worn out, beaten, angry, frustrated. For all that happened just now, I only have myself to blame. If I want to be a good mother, then I should act like one. There must be a proper way of educating all of my children, Aliya especially, without having to hurt each other's feelings. I need to rectify this. Immediately!

I came out of my room with the note in my hand, just to find out that Aliya had shut herself in her room too. Grabbed a pen, I sat down at the study table and drew a line underneath her message. A line lower I wrote this...

But I never hated you. I love you so much.

I pushed the paper under her door and waited patiently. A few moments later I saw her silhouette behind the door, picking up the paper. It was silent for a long time before the door creaked open and Aliya standing in front of me. She was crying quietly.

Seeing her that way made my heart melt. Not long after that Aliya was in my arms, sobbing out her sadness. That is my six year old daughter regretting what she had done to me and repeatedly asking for my forgiveness. How else could I refuse her? She's my baby.

Don't cry my precious one. I am sorry for being so inconsiderate and selfish. I promise I will change. I'll be by your side everytime you need me and protect you with all my strength. Hush now. No more tears. Yes dear, I love you so much ...

Tuesday, 3 November 2009

Stop bothering me!


I have always hated lizards in the house.

.......cet... cet.... cet....cet...cet......

The sound iritates me everytime I hear it.


Damn! You make another one more sound, I'll hunt you down! The pencil in my hand broke into two pieces. I made a big hole in the paper I was writing with the pencil.


Good. You understand.

Let me concentrate with my work. Now, where did I keep my other pencil...... oh! here it is! OK, where was I? Oh ya! Now I remember.... The value relevance of information of intangible assets in the financial reports.....


Arrrgghhhh!!!! That's it! You are so in deep shit now!!!

I went downstairs to get several rubber bands in the kitchen. Fold some papers till the size of a finger. That will do it. My slingshot! I am going hunting for lizards. Saw one at the corner of the ceiling in the living room. Took my aim. Inhale. Let go.

Bullseyes! The lizard fell down onto the floor and tried to escape. Unfortunate, for I was ready to hit it with the broom in my hand. Too bad. Had it not made that iritating sound, it might still be able to go smooching every Tom, Dick and Harry of its own kind up there on the ceiling.

Goodbye! To the sightseers, don't mess up with me!

I hate lizards!

Wednesday, 28 October 2009

Forgiven, not forgotten

Everytime I went pass this road, the memory of the olden days came back to my head and made me feel as if I missed something. This used to be the way home. This used to lead me to my sanctuary. A place where I grew up and gathered all the joyful and sadness moments of my teenage years. This used to be my family house in Port Dickson.

I was born in Kajang, but raised in Port Dickson. As far as I know, on my father's side, we do not have any relatives living close to us, except for my uncle who came all the way from Penang with his family to start a living here. But things aren't always nice to look at. Sometimes when envy and selfishness filled our heart, we could turn into monsters without feelings. No mercy. I don't wish to relate here what happened about more than 20 years ago when I was still a teenager. But sufficient to mention here that the feud between both family (or more accurately, the fight between brothers --> my father and my uncle) was so powerful, its impact was disastrous. It torn both family apart and resulted in as if we were living amongst strangers. They were my close relatives. We were supposed to look after each other and to protect every family members from outside danger. But what happened was the opposite. Anger, jealousy, envy and hatred for each other filled their lungs everyday, but none of these feelings were shown openly because my father was sick.

In 1997, on the day my father passed away, thruth revealed its painful colours of black and ashy grey. My mother was blamed for his death, accusations were thrown at her face. My siblings were also treated badly. I couldn't believe my sister when she said our cousin threatened to kill her one day. The other also warned he will burn my family alive...For God's sake, what has got into their heads?

Because warnings after warnings, threats after threats kept flooding my family, we decided to move out from Port Dickson and seek for new place we could call home. Soon my brothers started to become disoriented. They skipped school and spent a lot of time trying to figure out what they've lost and became scattered everywhere. My sisters also quit schools to search for jobs, to earn for a living. My mother started becoming dreamy, she used to talk alone, sometimes cried quietly and sometimes just let herself lost in deep trance.

I cried when my sister told me of these nightmares. I was not there when such bad situations befallen them. I was in the UK, struggling hard to finish my degree. I wish I could turn back time so that I could protect my family, especially my mother, from these monsters.

The year when I was expecting my first child, I heard the news that my uncle passed away. That was 2 years after the loss of my father. I went to visit my uncle's grave which is very much close to my father's. For as long as I can remember, I didn't do what people would normally do at the grave, reciting surahs and doas for the demised ones. I was standing straight and staring blankly at the tombstone. The only thing uttered from my mouth was...

"I will never forgive you!"

It was painful to have said that but that's the fact.

This year, 2009, marked the 12th years I lost my father. During the last visit to his grave, I felt calm and peaceful. I have managed to compose my emotions nicely. Probably because of all the tests God had given me earlier during the year, I am much stronger now. (How fragile was I all this while?). As I passed the grave of my uncle on the way back, I stopped and stood still and stared again at his grave. For how long I was in that position, I didn't know, but in my heart, I pity him for what I have vowed 10 years ago here at the very same spot. How was he doing in there? Was he tortured badly for what he had sinned? What if we really really will never forgive him forever?

I bent down and touched the tombstone in front of me.

"O Allah, today I open my heart willingly and forgive this man for all his wrongdoing towards my family. I pray you spare some mercy on him and let him rest in peace now".

Looking back at what happened to my family, we would have been much happier in life had he not done what he had done. Damages, though now repaired and concealed, took time to be accepted. Regrets remain, but what is past, is past. There's nothing we can do about it now.

Dear PakNgah, you're now forgiven, but will never be forgotten. May Allah bless your soul and protect you from the fire of hell. Amin.

Thursday, 1 October 2009

I cherish these moments....

The second half of the year came with lots of disasters left alongside its path. I have been tested one so many times in life, but I have to admit what came to me started June have almost turned my life upside down.

JUNE - I was conveyed with a sad news that my PhD proposal was not doable. After 2 whole years struggling to dig out the root cause and provide study justification, the verdict was simple - abandon the case study.....I tried to cry, but could not make the tears flow down my cheek. I tried to smile a bit in hope it could do me some good, but that was hopeless too. As a result, at the end of the day, I just stared blankly at the wall. My mind was elsewhere I could not identify the place.

Later the same day I received a call. My husband was involved in an accident. He was riding his motorbike when suddenly a car overtook him carelessly and hit him at the front tyre. According to him, suddenly he was "flying" and then turned an acrobatic performing "somersault" on the road, trying to protect himself when the bike crashed to the ground. The news stopped my breath for several times. As I rushed home, I kept praying that there's no serious injury involved. By the time I arrived, he was watching TV, his hands and legs bandaged, some parts were swollen and reflected darker skin tone. I felt his body trembling when I touched him. He tried to smile but it looked awful. That night he mumbled something in his sleep. He was in trauma.

It took me two weeks to attend to his needs and dress his wounds every morning and night. I did not touch my journals and research was at a dead end. I have to forget all about study for now. My husband is my priority.

JULY - The heavy rain accompanied with lightnings and thunders brought another bad episode in my life. One of the strikes hit the switch board of the automatic gate, damaging the whole thing and jamming the gate. Not only that, my LAN connector at the laptop was also hit that it is now no longer working. And finally, when the cold days of heavy rain finally came to an end and the sun shone to its brightest, we were awfully disappointed to find out that the air-conditioning unit in the master bedroom was also affected by the lightning and was not functioning. Gosh! What else could be worse than this?

- AUGUST - One morning, a call came in from my brother-in-law. He conveyed to me the news of my sister who has been admitted into Subang Jaya Medical Centre (SJMC) due to severe pain in the stomach. Later, the result came from the doctors confirmed that she has some kind of a tumor growing so big in her intestine and that it had 'exploded' and bled badly. The next day, she underwent an operation to remove the tumor. The next two weeks I spent my time visiting her at the ward and trying to cheer her up a bit. She was shocked with the news that she has cancer and did nothing but cried and cried and cried. My heart was torn in two seeing her in such condition. I want her well again, be happy with her family and continue her life as usual. We kept looking for other treatment options that could cure the cancer and avoid chemotherapy sessions. Finally, the result from another test by SJMC came to us as good news - she is free from cancer. Alhamdulillah! O Allah! You are the Almighty! I know You listen to our prayers. Thank you!

- SEPTEMBER - Finally, the fasting month of Ramadhan visited us again this year as has been the case every year. I have always been looking forward for Ramadhan to come. Anxiously. Waiting for the very moment to meet and greet someone I really miss so much. This is the time I when I could cry, I could spill out all my feelings, be it happy or sad, I could feel as if all my prayers all this while are being heard, this is the time when I fully surrender my soul to The Creator and ask for forgiveness for my sins....

I am so grateful I am still given the chance to cherish the fasting month of Ramadhan this year...

Thus, my family and I spent each day peacefully, the love we have for each other bound us closer that there's a tie that is so strong nothing could break it. I was happy. Nothing could explain my happiness at this moment. At dawn we ate shahur together, we fasted during the day and carried out our tasks dutifully and gathered around the table again at dusk to break fast together. We went to the mosque for Maghrib and Isya' jama'ah, then continued with tarawikh and tadarus until midnight. I feel so peaceful with the warmth of love growing and surrounding the family....

But then again Allah wanted to test our patient and faith in Him. On the 13th day of Ramadhan, I have to rush my husband to the hospital after shahur after he complained of severe stomachache and crumpled to the floor. He has ureteric and kidney stones (batu karang di salur kencing & buah pinggang)!! A computerised tomography (CT) scan at Kajang Specialist Hospital (KPJ) confirmed this. Saying so, he was admitted into the hospital for almost (plus/minus) 2 harrowing weeks. It caused him severe pain and resulted in blood in urine.

In my life, this is the first time I saw my husband cried and my heart broke everytime he did so. On the day he was scheduled for operation to remove the stones endoscopically, I made a silent prayer to God, seeking strength and security. Please bring back my husband to me. I love him dearly. I am not ready to be departed from him. At least not just yet. I may sound childish but such situation like this exposed the fear in me...

- OCTOBER - Families have been the strong support for his fight to recover from such mischief, especially my parents-in-law who have patiently waited by his side everyday and watched him recover. I know my husband as a very determined person. He has strong will to survive. Two days before Eid Mubarak celebration, he walked out of the hospital, headed for home, to his family, a smile of relief in his face. The children were eager to see their father after a long time he has been missing from home. Even our maid cried when she saw him. This would be the sweetest Eid Mubarak celebration for me.

Dear Allah! Nothing could be said to express my gratitude to You for reuniting my family. I thank you for all the joyous moments in life. I also thank You for teaching me to endure all the pain with an open heart and be patient. Syukur alhamdulillah. Eid Mubarak this year is a memorable one.

... I cherish these moments in life....

Thursday, 30 July 2009

A reminder from Him who cares...

July 4, 2009 - When the doctor explained the x-ray result to me, I was totally disappointed. I thought it was just a matter of having torn muscles, but the fact was even harder to accept - I have fractured my 5th metatarsal...! As a result, I will not be able to walk for about 6 to 10 weeks. Well, of course that depends very much on how fast the self-recovery process would take. At the age of 37 and being a mother of 3, what more when the daily calcium intake was very low, I doubt myself to be able to recover fast. And so I sigh, again, and again, and again! This bad luck stroke very hard on me and didn't seem wanting to leave me for now. Like it or not, I will have to postpone a lot of my study activities, seminars, workshops, tutorials. Ugh!

I took the medication prescribed by the doctor only for the first 2 days. I was in pain, so the doctor gave me something to reduce it. But then I realised by taking the medicine I couldn't even open my eyes to read. So I stopped taking the pills. The pain came back, but I'd rather endure it than turning myself into a zombie that lost its way back home in the broad daylight. Nevertheless, I feel sad, depressed and lonely. Being immobile really restrict my ability to move around and do things as usual. I could easily get tired, my hands and knees hurt like h*ll trying to support and balance my slow movement at home. Gosh!

But then someone opened my eyes for what it means to be patient and keep hoping for the best to come. He was no other than my husband's cousin, Jaafar Omar. For those who know his story, they definitely say that Jaafar is spiritually strong and never gave up easily. He was involved in a road accident that made him paralised from waist to toe. Local newspapers said this accident was the worst that ever took place in 2008, involving a 10-tonne lorry and seven other vehicles. Location: Taman Connaught, Cheras, in front of Giant.

I used to cry during my visits at the hospital because his condition was so unbearable and full of pain. He had to undergo 3 different operations to clean up the "crushed bones" in his leg, hand and his back and to replace them with titanium. It took him about 9 months to be able to move his hands and right leg. Unfortunately, his left leg remain paralyse till now. Despite his strong will to get back on his feet and walk again, he is now another member of "OKU".

The strong spirit and effort that he has in him had never stopped him from going anywhere he wants. He can now drive alone to where ever he wants to go. He still sees some friends either for small chats or for business deals. I met him several times during family occassions. He might not be able to walk like a normal person, but he is as strong and as cheerful as before. So why must I feel sad and depressed for what happened to me? It's just a matter of ONE fractured bone. I am far more lucky than him.

After all, it's a reminder from Allah that I might have committed sin and should immediately repent to Him.

To abang Jaafar, I admire you for your perseverance and strong will to recover. I wish I have that such spirit in me to continue fighting.

May Allah bless you always

Wednesday, 24 June 2009

Celebrating birthday....

What a long time since I last wrote in this blog.....

I have been busy juggling with study, family and personal matters. Earlier this month I was beheaded at the proposal defence session at the university. It was the scariest moment of the entire PhD life so far for me. It was the time when nothing works well with me, I can't sleep, I can't concentrate on the things I'm working on, I can't hear the sounds around me, my brain turned numb for many days.... Gosh! This is even worse than experiencing the midlife crisis!!!

Well, of course it was actually my own feelings and perception that made me behave like that. the session was a good one, honestly. And I received lots of encouraging feedback and suggestions to further enhance my study. No so bad after all...!

Soon after the session ended, I went back and packed all my things. The whole family went to Port Dickson for a holiday at the Legend Water Chalet. It's one of the newest fascinating place out of KL to go for a break and "lepak-lepak" till very late at night.

The hotel main building was erected by the sea side and our room emerged on the surface of the sea water. I celebrated my 37th birthday there. It was a nice treat, birthday cake, gift, kisses, hugs, photos, games, dinner, live band performance on stage, more gifts, laughter, strolling, relaxing....

Oh! By the way, the room rate was RM580 per night, so we spent only 2 nights there and checked out on the third day. Too expensive for an average person like me! I wonder how much money I would have to spend for a night stay at the Burj Hotel in Dubai. Perhaps I will have to put my house and car on sale just to be able to afford the "third class" room. People are willing to pay such a huge amount for some "reputable hotel atmostphere". Why? After all, you can't stay there forever, can you?

No matter how far you've traveled, you'll find your way back to your HOME SWEET HOME.....

Tuesday, 27 January 2009

I was browsing the internet as usual when I found this beautiful poem Audrey Hepburn wrote when she was asked to share her 'beauty tips.' I was made to understand that the poem was read at her funeral years later.

For attractive lips, speak words of kindness.

For lovely eyes, seek out the good in people.

For a slim figure, share your food with the hungry.

For beautiful hair, let a child run his/her fingers through it once a day.

For poise, walk with knowledge, that you never walk alone.

People, even more than things, have to be restored, renewed, revived, reclaimed, and redeemed; never throw out anyone.

Remember, if you ever need a helping hand, you will find one at the end of each of your arms.

As you grow older, you will discover that you have two hands; one for helping yourself, and the other for helping others.

Saturday, 24 January 2009

AIDA AMANI, my miracle baby...

This is a true, amazing story about my baby girl, Aida Amani. She was born on Friday, 29th December 2006 at Az-Zahrah Islamic Medical Centre in Bandar Baru Bangi, Selangor. The way she entered the new world was really puzzling. I had never thought she would survive the ordeal, but that's just what happened with God's will.

I was eight months pregnant and was visiting the doctor for my weekly check-up when suddenly the doctor said she detected some pattern of contraction of the muscle. Well, I've had this false alarm for almost everyday now in the past three weeks, therefore I did not suspect that this morning's contraction is stronger than the usual ones. As a result, I was warded. 10.00 a.m. in the morning, I was asked to change my clothes and replace them with the hospital gown, pushed on a wheel chair into the labour room, transferred to a bed and asked to lie down and relax.
At 11.00 a.m. my doctor came to visit me, checked my contraction again and told me that she expected delivery by 6.00 p.m. I told her about my harrowing experience when I gave birth to my second child and wished not to go through the same painful moment of being induced again this time. The doctor then suggested me to take epidural so that I will not feel the labour pain. I agreed. She made the necessary preparation and gave me the injection.
"I will come again and check on you at 4.oo p.m. In the mean time, you can do what ever you like, you can read, eat or watch tv, but dont get off the bed, okay?" the doctor smiled and left me to make her routine rounding at the ward.
About half an hour later, I feel some painful contraction that made me uneasy. My husband called the doctor. She wondered why I still feel the pain after taking epidural shot because rightfully, I should have not felt anything by this hour. After thorough inspection, she made a conclusion that the dose given to me was insufficient. Again, I received another shot of epidural. Strange....

My husband was with me all the time, but he had to leave me for a while for Friday Prayer at 1.10 p.m. He kissed me on the forehead and promised he will be back as soon as the prayer is over. I read some magazines provided in the labour room, then feel bored and closed my eyes. I must have dozed off quite a while because I didnt realise that my husband was with me again not long after that. He bought me a bar of chocolate. Cadbury Hazelnut. My favourite. Hmmm... yummy!
I was enjoying the chocolate when suddenly I vomitted. I didnt know what's the cause, but I kept vomitting untill there was nothing left to throw out. It was such a painful process that it took all my energy and made me flat in bed. The nurses there have been very helpful. My husband asked me to get some rest. He took the Quran, pulled a chair, sat close to me and started to recite some versus in the Quran. I closed my eyes and tried to sleep.

After some times, both of us heard a soft squeaking sound. My husband stopped reading the Quran and looked at me.

"Did you hear what I heard?" I asked him.

"Yes, but what was that and where did it come from?" My husband asked back.

"Maybe there's a bird perching at the window sill" I answered and closed my eyes again.

My husband continued reading the Quran.
Suddenly the same squeaking sound emerged again. This time it was louder and clearer.

"What was that? It's scarying me!" I held my husband's hand tightly.

"I don't know. I think I'd better get the nurse to come and check. You wait here." with that he disappeared behind the door.

A nurse came rushing in to check on me, followed by my husband. at first she stared blankly at me, then pulled the blanket that was covering both my legs.

Astagfirullah hal'azhim! To our surprise, there lied in between my legs, a small figure covered with white flakes and blood all over. It stirred weakly when the blanket was lifted. My baby!!! It was my baby!!! She was born into the world without anybody noticing, not even me!!!! I fainted! I was in total blackness for a while. When I recovered, there was not only one but two doctors in the labour room, together with several nurses. My husband was watching one of the nurses cleaning my baby while the gynaecologist was mending my stiches.

I could see the pale faces of the doctors. I saw clearly sweats running down their foreheads while they worked.

"I am sorry Ati. This had never happened before in my life as a gynaecologist." The doctor was trembling. Her hands were as cold as ice when she touched me.

"How's my baby? Is she alright?" I asked.

"She'll be alright for now. But we need to send her for detailed examination with the paeditrician because she had swallowed a lot of the blood and liquid from your waterbag. Her lungs flooded"

I closed my eyes and prayed God will not to take away my baby from me. Warm tears streamed from my cheeks.

"I need my husband".

The doctor went to get him for me and we ended up hugging each other. I could not control myself this time and cried on his shoulder. He didn't say anything at all.

Later I was sent to the ward. The double shot of epidural started to take effect on me. I felt drowsy, couldn't open my eyes at all. I didn't know for how long I have slept, but when I woke up I saw the anaesthetist was observing me. My husband told me I had breathing difficulty while sleeping.

"Where is the baby?" that was the first thing that came into my mind.

"She's in the intensive care unit." my husband held my hands tightly when he told me this.

Aida Amani was born at about 2.30p.m. on Friday. She was administered at the ICU and then transferred to incubator for almost ten days due to her breathing difficulty. The paeditrician had sucked all the water out of her lungs but she still failed to breath on her own. She had to rely on the breathing apparatus to help her. On the third day, she got jaundice and had to be "tanned" under the light 24/7 with her eyes closed. I was discharged on the second day, but repeatedly visited my baby at the hospital to breastfeed her.

No mother could have managed to see her baby's condition like this at every visit. I cried everytime I held her in my arms. I whispered to her ears that I love her so much and I wanted her to get well soon so that I could take her home. She responded by clasping my thumb with her tiny fingers.
The doctor repeatedly came to apologise to me for what happened. I didn't blame her at all. What happened was something that nobody would have expected.

"I've delivered thousands of babies, but never before in my life I encountered such a case like this. This is truly a miracle" the doctor told me.

"Normally the mother will need to push her baby out or the baby would be stucked at its neck while exiting. This is because the shoulder bone is not easy to get through the exit and a strong push from the mother is needed to help the baby out. In your case, when you took up epidural, you'll not know when you have the contraction, so we have to guide you and tell you the right moment to push. I believe it was with the help of the Angels that your baby managed to come out wholely without injury. That was amazing. The baby is a miracle baby. She is blessed"

And for the next few months after Aida was discharged, the medical centre still talked about the miracle baby. Everytime I took her for a follow-up with her paeditrician, everybody at the medical centre would greet her, gathered around her and touched her and some of them will related the story of the miracle baby to some of the patients. Even the patients took the opportunity to hold her and kiss her.

I took her to see the paeditrician at least once a month. I have been doing this for almost two years of her life. I needed to make sure she has really, really recovered. I don't want any complication to emerge in future.

Aida is a healthy girl. She brings joy to the family ever since she came home from the medical centre. Last December when we celebrated her 2nd birthday, my tears was streaming down my cheek as I recall the frightening moment of her birth. I could have lost her then. I might not have the chance of holding her and kissing her now.
Alhamdulillah, Thank you, Allah.

I believe when we do good deeds, we will be paid back with good deeds as well. God has arranged everything in order, for He knows everything. I am so blessed in life, what more with this miracle baby who makes me laugh always. I am one blessed mother in this world.
Lailaha illa anta. Subhanaka inni kuntu minazzhalimin.

Wednesday, 21 January 2009

Respect others on the road, please...!

Yesterday was really tiring. I did my research on the internet, met my supervisor for discussion, went out for lunch with some "lost and found" friends, read some articles and get some ideas for the paper I plan to publish in February and finally attended my class. The class ended at 9.45pm but I didn't go home immediately. I went back to my room and finished some pending works that were waiting for me on the table. By the time I looked at the watch, it was already five minutes past midnight. Gosh, time surely fly so fast nowadays!

The phone battery was long time ago dead. Thinking about my husband who would sure be worried about me coming home late at night, I packed all my things and left. It was a bit scary imagining I was alone at the faculty. Total silent. No one was around.

As I have expected, there were not so many cars on the road at this kind of hours. I turned on the radio and drive home slowly. Later came a four wheel drive from nowhere, tailing behind me so close that I think it could kiss my rear if it came any closer. I do not know what's the intention of the driver to follow me in the left lane when he can actually change to the right lane and speed up. This mad driver continued to follow me closely for about nearly ten minutes!

What irked me so much was this 4WD's head lamp. The driver has modified the car and changed the headlamp to a sort of bright white and blueish colour (like neon) that could light up the road miles ahead of the vehicle! Because that 4WD was modified to be "taller" than my "lowered" MPV, the bright light from its head lamp shot straight into my eyes through the rear mirror and affected my sight. How inconsiderate!

What type of driver that need to have this bright neon-like light to be able to drive at night? A BLIND DRIVER!!!! The answer might be absurd, but it is self-explanatory. This kind of drivers never cared for other people on the road. They think they are trying to avoid accidents by replacing the standard, dim, yellowish light. They claimed they have better sight at night with brighter light. But what about other drivers? The people they are tailing? The drivers from the opposite direction? Being inconsiderate and selfish on the road could cause accidents. They should have known this from the very first time they held the steering and started the engine.

I could not count how many times I cursed him along the way. If I were driving a 10-tonne lorry, I would sure have hit the brake hard and stop abruptly and let the 4WD bang my rear. At least his stupid head lamp would be broken. That would teach him a good lesson. You kiasu, I kiasi! Watchaaaaaaa....!

But I am not that type of driver. I dont support road bully. Though within one semester of my routine driving to the faculty and back home, I received at average 3 to 4 speeding tickets, I've never done any harm to other road users. My more that 20 years driving record is accident-free, because I am not selfish. I think about others too. In other words, I am a considerate driver.

Well, let's get back to the 4WD driver with his stupid neon-like bright head lamp. After a while driving and cursing at the same time, I decided to take alternative route by exiting the highway. Once I've exited, since there was no other vehicle on the road, I slowed down to observe the 4WD driver who continued driving on the highway. Hell, he was on the phone all this while! No wonder why he tailed me at the left lane without even bother to overtake me on the right lane!

Within a night's drive, he made three offences: (1) tailing so close to the car infront (2) using bright light head lamp that could affect the sight of front driver and (3) using handphone while driving. He should definitely be banned from using the road for quite some time.

Think about others when you drive. Think about your loved ones. Nobody would want to be hurt or die in an accident. Be considerate. Dont be a BLIND DRIVER! Have a safe journey always.

Tuesday, 20 January 2009

The White House stumbles to the finish: The humiliation of America


(Assistant Secretary of the Treasury in the Reagan administration)

"Early Friday morning the secretary of state was considering bringing the cease-fire resolution to a UNSC vote and we didn't want her to vote for it," Olmert said. "I said 'get President Bush on the phone.'

They tried and told me he was in the middle of a lecture in Philadelphia.

I said 'I'm not interested, I need to speak to him now.'

He got down from the podium, went out and took the phone call.

"*"Let me see if I understand this," wrote a friend in response to news reports that Israeli Prime Minister Olmert ordered President Bush from the podium where he was giving a speech to receive Israel's instructions about how the United States had to vote on the UN resolution.

"On September 11th, President Bush is interrupted while reading a story to school children and told the World Trade Center had been hit--and he went on reading. Now, Olmert calls about a UN resolution when Bush is giving a speech and Bush leaves the stage to take the call. There exists no greater example of a master-servant relationship."

Olmert gloated as he told Israelis how he had shamed US Secretary of State Condi Rice by preventing the American Secretary of State from supporting a resolution that she had helped to craft. Olmert proudly related how he had interrupted President Bush's speech in order to give Bush his marching orders on the UN vote.Israeli politicians have been bragging for decades about the control they exercise over the US government. In his final press conference, President Bush, deluded to the very end, said that the whole world respects America. In fact, when the world looks at America, what it sees is an Israeli colony.

Responding to mounting reports from the Red Cross and human rights organizations of Israel's massive war crimes in Gaza, the United Nations Human Rights Council voted 33-1 on January 12 to condemn Israel for grave offenses against human rights.

On January 13, the London Times reported that Israelis have gathered on a hillside overlooking Gaza to enjoy the slaughter of Palestinians in what the Times calls "the ultimate spectator sport."It is American supplied F-16 fighter jets, helicopter gunships, missiles, and bombs that are destroying the civilian infrastructure of Gaza and murdering the Palestinians who have been packed into the tiny strip of land. What is happening to the Palestinians herded into the Gaza Ghetto is happening because of American money and weapons. It is just as much an attack by the United States as an attack by Israel.

The US government is complicit in the war crimes.Yet in his farewell press conference on January 12, Bush said that the world respects America for its compassion.

The compassion of bombing a UN school for girls?

The compassion of herding 100 Palestinians into one house and then shelling it?

The compassion of bombing hospitals and mosques?

The compassion of depriving 1.5 million Palestinians of food, medicine, and energy?

The compassion of violently overthrowing the democratically elected Hamas government?

The compassion of blowing up the infrastructure of one of the poorest and most deprived people on earth?

The compassion of abstaining from a Security Council vote condemning these actions?

And this is a repeat of what the Israelis and Americans did to Lebanon in 2006, what the Americans did to Iraqis for six years and are continuing to do to Afghans after seven years. And still hope to do to the Iranians and Syrians.

In 2002 I designated George W. Bush "the White House Moron."

If there ever was any doubt about this designation, Bush's final press conference dispelled it. Bush talked about connecting the dots, but Bush has failed to connect any dots for eight solid years. "Our" president was a puppet for a cabal led by Dick Cheney and a handful of Jewish neoconservatives, who took control of the Pentagon, the State Department, the National Security Council, the CIA, and "Homeland Security."

From these power positions, the neocon cabal used lies and deception to invade Afghanistan and Iraq, pointless wars that have cost Americans $3 trillion, while millions of Americans lose their jobs, their pensions, and their access to health care.

"These obviously very difficult economic times," Bush said in his press conference, "started before my presidency."

Bush has plenty of liberal company in failing to connect a $3 trillion dollar war with hard times. The Center on Budget and Policy Priorities blames Bush's tax cut, not the wars, for "the fiscal deterioration."Bush told the White House Press Corps, a useless collection of non-journalists, that the two mistakes of his invasion of Iraq were:

(1) Putting up the "mission accomplished" banner on the aircraft carrier, which, he said, "sent the wrong message," and

(2) the absence of the alleged weapons of mass destruction that he used to justify the invasion.

Although Bush now admits that there were not any such weapons in Iraq, Bush said that the invasion was still the right thing to do. The deaths of 1.25 million Iraqis, the displacement of 4 million Iraqis, and the destruction of a country's infrastructure and economy are merely the collateral damage associated with "bringing freedom and democracy" to the Middle East. Unless George W. Bush is the best actor in human history, he truly believes what he told the White House Press Corps.

What Bush did not explain is how America is respected when its people put a moron in charge for eight years.

*Paul Craig Roberts was Assistant Secretary of the Treasury in the Reagan administration.

Monday, 19 January 2009

Absolutely amazing Mathematics

1 x 8 + 1 = 9
12 x 8 + 2 = 98
123 x 8 + 3 = 987
1234 x 8 + 4 = 9876
12345 x 8 + 5 = 98765
123456 x 8 + 6 = 987654
1234567 x 8 + 7 = 9876543
12345678 x 8 + 8 = 98765432
123456789 x 8 + 9 = 987654321

1 x 9 + 2 = 11
12 x 9 + 3 = 111
123 x 9 + 4 = 1111
1234 x 9 + 5 = 11111
12345 x 9 + 6 = 111111
123456 x 9 + 7 = 1111111
1234567 x 9 + 8 = 11111111
12345678 x 9 + 9 = 111111111
123456789 9 +10= 1111111111

9 x 9 + 7 = 88
98 x 9 + 6 = 888
987 x 9 + 5 = 8888
9876 x 9 + 4 = 88888
98765 x 9 + 3 = 888888
987654 x 9 + 2 = 8888888
9876543 x 9 + 1 = 88888888
98765432 x 9 + 0 = 888888888

Brilliant, isn’t it? And look at this symmetry:

1 x 1 = 11
11 x 11 = 121
111 x 111 = 12321
1111 x 1111 = 1234321
11111 x 11111 = 123454321
111111 x 111111 = 12345654321
1111111 x 1111111 = 1234567654321
11111111 x 11111111 = 123456787654321
111111111 x 111111111 = 12345678987654321

Thursday, 15 January 2009

Special dedication to Rajiv Ahuja - How to dance in the rain...

It was a busy morning, about 8:30, when an elderly gentleman in his 80's arrived to have stitches removed from his thumb. He said he was in a hurry as he had an appointment at 9:00am. I took his vital signs and had him take a seat, knowing it would be over an hour before someone would to able to see him. I saw him looking at his watch and decided, since I was not busy with another patient, I would evaluate his wound. On exam, it was well healed, so I talked to one of the doctors, got the needed supplies to remove his sutures and redress his wound.

While taking care of his wound, I asked him if he had another doctor's appointment this morning, as he was in such a hurry. The gentleman told me no, that he needed to go to the nursing home to eat breakfast with his wife. I inquired as to her health. He told me that she had been there for a while and that she was a victim of Alzheimer's Disease.

As we talked, I asked if she would be upset if he was a bit late. He replied that she no longer knew who he was, that she had not recognized him in five years now..

I was surprised, and asked him, 'And you still go every morning, even though she doesn't know who you are?' He smiled as he patted my hand and said,

'She doesn't know me, but I still know who she is.'

I held back my tears as he left, I had goose bumps on my arm, and thought,

'That is the kind of love I want in my life.'

True love is neither physical, nor romantic. True love is an acceptance of all that is, has been, will be, and will not be.

The happiest people don't necessarily have the best of everything; they just make the best of everything they have. I hope you share this with someone you care about. I just did. Life isn't about how to survive the storm, but how to dance in the rain.
Introducing myself to the audience...

My name is Normawati Non. I am from Selangor, Malaysia. I am 36 years old, happily married and blessed with three lovely children. I was raised in quite a big family, there seven siblings altogether, 4 girls and 3 boys and I am the eldest. My late father was a tanker driver with Shell and my mother was a house wife.

Because there were so many of us having to stay in the same small living room of our house, we use to have the same hobby to pass our free time - wrestling! Sometimes we bled ourselves, just to feel the satisfaction of winning the fight. Mom couldnt say anything anymore, because once we started fighting, there's no way of stopping us. Dad? He acted as if we were not there at all. Hahaha... those were during our sweet childhood. I was only 15 then. Well, I never won the battle, honestly. My second sister claimed the championship as usual because she's of bigger size.

We had to work hard for a living. Dad was always sick. He had cronic diabetes. I had to earn my own tuition fees and pocket money to continue diploma. My second sister worked at KFC to pay her hostel expenses at the boarding school. My third sister worked at Singer as salesperson. We were all scattered everywhere. Whoever has the skills of survival, will get to enjoy extra money for a bit of luxury.

But we never regret what happened. I believe there's a blessing in disguise. Everything happened for a reason. Had it not been because of our hard working attitude during childhood, we might have been spoilt teenagers and might not ended up as happy as who we are right now. Well, we still fight now, in a different way, as adults, of course, but the sour faces and red eyes and swollen lips didnt normally last long. The bond we have are strong, it's difficult to break.

Today, all but the youngest in the siblings are married. Everyone lead a happy life. Some of us may not be rich and wealthy, yet we are living a comfortable life. Meet up once in a while, celebrate certain special occasion together, organise family outing and get involved in sports, etc. So who said a big family means lots of trouble? I say, the bigger the family, the more 'close friends' we have, the merrier the celebrations we organise.
Dear dad, only if you were with us this moment. You'll be happy too. Mom's a tough woman, she's been through good and bad times together with us. Thanks mom. You're the greatest of all.

Wednesday, 14 January 2009

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