Many people when they were mere toddlers, develop words or 'kata manja' of their own, most of the times due to necessity as they have yet to learn the correct words to describe a feeling or an object. Other times, it could have been the inability to pronounce such words. With the passing of time, and the presence of self-consciousness, many chose to discard such words either for want of self-improvement, or simply ashamed of using it. To the family and close friends however, such words will always be remembered and perhaps, even trademark the person to it.
An elderly lady passed away this morning. She was 76, the same age as my Emak. Arwah Mak Nyonya's family (her real name is Nyonya), was close to Emak's family, having helped raised 3 of Emak's sisters at a time when my arwah grandmother developed phobia of raising kids, due to her losing 3 children (and later 4). Thus, while my aunts' children are close to the arwah's family, I was not. In fact, I think I have only met her twice. She was, I was told, a kind and gentle lady, always ready to go out of her way for her family members and friends. It was thus not surprising then that quite a number of people - friends and relatives - turned up for her funeral. I did not go to the burial though, as Emak have trouble walking distances or standing long periods, and we left soon as the jenazah was brought to the mosque for prayers before proceeding to the cemetary.
While there, Azman, my cousin, mentioned that we should now be more prepared for the eventual to happen. I have to admit, I am fearful of that day. Not for anything, but being alone, would I be left in a state of shock, sitting motionless and unable to do or call anyone, as did happen to a distant uncle on the news of my grandfather passing away? And later, left in the solitude of this house, how would I face the loneliness of calling her name but not hearing her reply...her voice. It scares me. I can only pray that Allah s.w.t. will give me the strength to face it.
On the way back from arwah Mak Nyonya's house, Emak tells me several stories of a distant past, at a time when she and her sibblings were of lower primary school age. Then, Mak Nyonya's sister, arwah Zainun, taught Emak and her sibblings a word which she still remember fondly to this day.
About 6plus then, arwah Zainun would sometimes complain about the portion of food she gets. Unable to find the correct word to use, she would refer to the small portion as 'Toon-Tit'.
It is from Allah s.w.t. that we come from, and it is to Him we shall return.
Showing posts with label Family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Family. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Art of Wrapping
While I'm writing this, Emak is watching 'Gadis Melayu' on TV9. Some friends tell me its a good show where beautiful young Malay ladies appear as contestants perhaps, in search of the ideal Malay girl. In a way, its something like Miss Universe paegent or Akademi Fantasia, but one where the dressings are acceptable to the community, and thus far, no singing...yet. Hmm...I guess its no wonder then that I am unable to concentrate on this entry where my eyes seem to have a mind of their own. Have to admit though, the girls are pretty. Wonder if the network will put a 'Jejaka Idaman'? Kerpie and I would certainly qualify for the contest as 'Jejaka', though we may find it tough on the 'Idaman' part. There's something interesting Emak mentioned about this show though.
Now, TV9 basically caters to the Malay audience. The contest it seems, is open only to Malay girls. "Why is it then," my Emak asked "the language used by the instructors are in English?". Good question! I, have no answer to that. But since the language is mentioned here, our bro Mat Salo dropped in my area earlier this evening.
While we were talking about the Blogger' Meet, he mentioned a writer friend of his whose command of the written language, English i.e., is one of the highest standards for a Malaysian, and invited the friend to the meet. The friend, however, decline for reasons of his own. The friend after all, lives in some obscure village where currently, there is no broadband it seem. Now, what is interesting here is that outside his field of work, the friend, quite like the fella writing this entry, has little avenue to practice the language. Yet, his writings are now being sought for by a publishing house or 2. Hmm....that however, is not quite like that cakapaje where he constantly make mistakes here and there, and there and here. Its evident now, he has yet to be able to wrap his fingers on the finer art of writing, and the language itself. Talking of which...but first, to a serious matter.
As usual I was blog hopping just now and came upon this blog via Haris Ibrahim. The writer, tells of an incident which happened in Memali, Kedah, way back in 1985, an tragic part of our history which the gomen would certainly like to wrap it up and put away from public's knowledge. That, and the fact they do not how to does not surprise me at all. The only good thing they - the gomen (read: be end) - are good at, are wrapping their greedy hands on the nation's coffers. Please, do read about it here.
Now, back to the title.
OK, 2 Sundays ago, Emi and Zaini had a small birthday celebration for their daughter, Nursara. And Emak being Emak, would not like to attend it without a present for her youngest grandchild, and thus asked that Wak Kromo to go searching for one. Now, what would that Wak know about children's presents when he's a single guy without a child of his own, one might ask. Well, plenty. You might find it rather difficult to believe, the Wak is quite a young fellow at heart. Also, the Wak has 11 nephews and nieces from which he can easily draw inspiration from. This time however, the Wak decided to rely on his own childhood experience. Off course, having an idea of what Nursara likes already, does help.
Now, Nursara and that Wak has a similar interest in the natural world, namely stories and pictures of animals. Then again, most children of that do, don't they? Armed with this knowledge, the Wak went hunting for story books and found one. At the same time, Wak also picked up an easy-to-read book on the 25 Prophets of Islam. Initially thinking to read it himself, the Wak decided otherwise and began the process of wrapping the 2 books with a nice wrapping paper which he later bought at another store. Unfortunately, that store does not provide wrapping services. "Alamak!"
Braving himself to face the daunting task of wrapping the books, Wak's mind recall earlier memories of how a present should look like after being nicely wrapped up. "Aha!", thought the Wak "I will need a ribon!". Thus, off he went to but one and walla! The new generation of ribbon now no longer need to be tied around the present - one just need to use a cello tape! And what is even better, all one need to do now is just pull one end of the ribbon, and it will - like magic - shape itself nicely into one.
After measuring the books against the paper, the Wak then happily began cutting off the extra length, using a cardboard as a paperweight. Soon later, he cellotaped the ribbon onto the top and thought to himself "There's no job I cannot handle". With a smile on his face, off course.
A few hours later as they were about to close the front door and head for Nursara's party, Emak turn around for a last minute look-see, then asked the Wak "I thought you already wrapped up the books?".
"Off course," said the Wak and proudly showing his work of art.
"Then, what's that on the dining table there?"
Oops!
No, the present above is not of Nursara.
But I do swear, the ribbon looks exactly the same.
Now, TV9 basically caters to the Malay audience. The contest it seems, is open only to Malay girls. "Why is it then," my Emak asked "the language used by the instructors are in English?". Good question! I, have no answer to that. But since the language is mentioned here, our bro Mat Salo dropped in my area earlier this evening.
While we were talking about the Blogger' Meet, he mentioned a writer friend of his whose command of the written language, English i.e., is one of the highest standards for a Malaysian, and invited the friend to the meet. The friend, however, decline for reasons of his own. The friend after all, lives in some obscure village where currently, there is no broadband it seem. Now, what is interesting here is that outside his field of work, the friend, quite like the fella writing this entry, has little avenue to practice the language. Yet, his writings are now being sought for by a publishing house or 2. Hmm....that however, is not quite like that cakapaje where he constantly make mistakes here and there, and there and here. Its evident now, he has yet to be able to wrap his fingers on the finer art of writing, and the language itself. Talking of which...but first, to a serious matter.
As usual I was blog hopping just now and came upon this blog via Haris Ibrahim. The writer, tells of an incident which happened in Memali, Kedah, way back in 1985, an tragic part of our history which the gomen would certainly like to wrap it up and put away from public's knowledge. That, and the fact they do not how to does not surprise me at all. The only good thing they - the gomen (read: be end) - are good at, are wrapping their greedy hands on the nation's coffers. Please, do read about it here.
Now, back to the title.
OK, 2 Sundays ago, Emi and Zaini had a small birthday celebration for their daughter, Nursara. And Emak being Emak, would not like to attend it without a present for her youngest grandchild, and thus asked that Wak Kromo to go searching for one. Now, what would that Wak know about children's presents when he's a single guy without a child of his own, one might ask. Well, plenty. You might find it rather difficult to believe, the Wak is quite a young fellow at heart. Also, the Wak has 11 nephews and nieces from which he can easily draw inspiration from. This time however, the Wak decided to rely on his own childhood experience. Off course, having an idea of what Nursara likes already, does help.
Now, Nursara and that Wak has a similar interest in the natural world, namely stories and pictures of animals. Then again, most children of that do, don't they? Armed with this knowledge, the Wak went hunting for story books and found one. At the same time, Wak also picked up an easy-to-read book on the 25 Prophets of Islam. Initially thinking to read it himself, the Wak decided otherwise and began the process of wrapping the 2 books with a nice wrapping paper which he later bought at another store. Unfortunately, that store does not provide wrapping services. "Alamak!"
Braving himself to face the daunting task of wrapping the books, Wak's mind recall earlier memories of how a present should look like after being nicely wrapped up. "Aha!", thought the Wak "I will need a ribon!". Thus, off he went to but one and walla! The new generation of ribbon now no longer need to be tied around the present - one just need to use a cello tape! And what is even better, all one need to do now is just pull one end of the ribbon, and it will - like magic - shape itself nicely into one.
After measuring the books against the paper, the Wak then happily began cutting off the extra length, using a cardboard as a paperweight. Soon later, he cellotaped the ribbon onto the top and thought to himself "There's no job I cannot handle". With a smile on his face, off course.
A few hours later as they were about to close the front door and head for Nursara's party, Emak turn around for a last minute look-see, then asked the Wak "I thought you already wrapped up the books?".
"Off course," said the Wak and proudly showing his work of art.
"Then, what's that on the dining table there?"
Oops!
No, the present above is not of Nursara.But I do swear, the ribbon looks exactly the same.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
76 Years Ago
76 years ago, a woman gave birth to a baby girl, the 6th child in a family which suffered 4 losses due to childhood sickness in the years just before the outbreak of World War II. The girl that was born on November 18, 1932, later became a teacher at the age of 12, at a time where several of her first year pupils were of the same age as her. The profession she and most of her surviving siblings chose were not necessarily of their choice; in an age where most houses had no electricity nor running water, there were not much. That, and the fact that their late father was a Teacher and Headmaster.
A day or 2 just before her children celebrated her birthday with her, she suffered a small fall when a leg of the stool she was sitting on broke. Though there were no apparent injury, there is just so much a body and person can suffer beatings, physically and otherwise. This fall, was the 3rd she had in the past 15years. The last fall she had, she suffered a fractured rib bone which still nags at her every once so often.
The lady, who must have turned heads during her younger days, has been described by some friends as 'Ingat orangnya garang. Tapi bila dah kenal hatibudi dia, memang jatuh kasih dengan dia!'. Looking at her now, many still do not believe her age as it is. SubhanAllah! A woman of beauty with the heart of gold.
That woman, is my emak. And I thank Allah s.w.t. for this most precious gift.
Emak, seen above with Emi's m-i-l, at Nur Sara's birthday 2 Sundays earlier.
The 2 Birthday Girls: Emak with Nur Sara, Emi's daughter. Taken months earlier, though she would love to, she can no longer carry even a 5year old close to her chest. But had she, then I would surely made noise as its been more than 40 years now since she last carried me. Oops!
A day or 2 just before her children celebrated her birthday with her, she suffered a small fall when a leg of the stool she was sitting on broke. Though there were no apparent injury, there is just so much a body and person can suffer beatings, physically and otherwise. This fall, was the 3rd she had in the past 15years. The last fall she had, she suffered a fractured rib bone which still nags at her every once so often.
The lady, who must have turned heads during her younger days, has been described by some friends as 'Ingat orangnya garang. Tapi bila dah kenal hatibudi dia, memang jatuh kasih dengan dia!'. Looking at her now, many still do not believe her age as it is. SubhanAllah! A woman of beauty with the heart of gold.
That woman, is my emak. And I thank Allah s.w.t. for this most precious gift.
Emak, seen above with Emi's m-i-l, at Nur Sara's birthday 2 Sundays earlier.
The 2 Birthday Girls: Emak with Nur Sara, Emi's daughter. Taken months earlier, though she would love to, she can no longer carry even a 5year old close to her chest. But had she, then I would surely made noise as its been more than 40 years now since she last carried me. Oops!Wednesday, October 01, 2008
RS1: Kiss Kiss, Hug Hug
It is now 10pm. The sun has set and there's nothing but silence all around...literally. Most of the neighbours here have either gone back to their kampung or, for the non-Muslims, are away for a very long weekend. If ever an astronaut is looking at this planet - this housing area where I am, in particular - I figure it would be almost to akin to us looking at the stars, where those empty houses are the dark patches of the space in between. Hmm...kind of reverse astronomy; Earthonomy, perhaps? Better still, make it Malconomy, short for Malaysian Economy in shambles due to mismanagement by the Sarkas and Palah (read here).
Alhamdulillah, for the first since we moved here, the house received quite a number of guests for Raya. I have to admit though, I now make a poor host. Not for anything, but running between serving the dishes and chatting with guests, one sometimes miss out on the hints where a guest would prefer the company of the host rather than the food. Not that I consider myself perfectly adorable, but foods aplenty in any house one goes to. But a host being a host, a guest should be well treated with whatever food is available. The company, will have to take second place in between the running. It is for the same reason I have restricted myself from visiting friends, not wanting to let Emak run herself to the ground serving any guests that drops by. Emak being Emak, will never sit easy if a guest is not served well. Knowing that well now, I no longer extend invitations to friends to drop by - I feel guilty watching Emak working in the kitchen, something no one can ask her not to; Emak after all, will be 76 this November. Thus, to any friends reading this, please forgive me in not inviting you, and kindly understand the situation. Still, that does not mean one cannot drop by. Please do.
This year too marked a first for the family when Din brought over his IT stuff and had Aiman, his son, fix a temporary wireless router so that we can do video conferencing with Din's two daughters as well as Ana and family. But of Din's daughters, only Hanis vidcam was working while Ana was not at home. Still, it was nice to see and talk to Hanis as the last she came back was 4 years back. She is, Emak's first grandchild.
Another first is when a neighbour, Encik Mohamed, brought his daughters along for Raya. Now, the eldest daughter, Akmar, will be graduating soon and this is the first time I meet her. And wow, is she a beauty! Thus, as with front neighbour Halim's daughters visit earlier in the morning, I thought of doing a 'Salam Raya' with Akmar as well - one with the kiss kiss, hug hug - but had second thoughts. I mean Halim and I are quite close and know when each is merely playing around, but not with Mohamed. Not only is he a religious guy, but he is also the Khariat Kematian representative for this street. By chance should Akmar think I was serious and decide to 'Salam Raya' with me...aiyai yai! Tomorrow's headline might then read either "Cakapaje in shotgun marriage!', or 'Cakapaje shotgunned!". Certainly not a delightful 2nd Raya Day reading, but certainly better than this next part.
TV3 Raya greetings this year showed 2 cat burglars about to be caught by the husband-wife residents of a house. I quite like the greeting but only up to the part where one of the burglars replied to the husband's challenge, admitting that they were cats. Though not original, I thought the greeting was funny. But when the other burglar put his hand to the mouth and supposedly replied 'Baru habis puasa, jangan tambah dosa', I wonder who the message is intended for or to. Perhaps on a glance, one could say the message was well meant for the public not to commit crimes or sins. But since it supposedly came from one of the burglars and directed to the residents of the house, I really do wonder. Could it perhaps, actually be meant for Malaysians not to defend their properties and rights in the face of wrongdoings by the supposedly leaders of this country? A bit far fetched, I admit. Then again, consider these:
1. Seen throughout the nation, RTM1 had some Sarkas leaders leading the Takbir congegration. Again, perhaps one might not think much about it, I admit. But when I read LanH's column in the English Section of Harakah 29 Sept - 5 October, where a delegation of MCA leaders visited Harakah and asked the difference between Sarkas's Islam and PAS Islam, I see a link there somewhere, and that somewhere is as below.
Now, I don't know about the rest of the Sarkas leaders leading the Takbir but certainly saw that one guy from Bagan, in Perak, and the other guy from Selangor who fancies himself as a Mike Tyson. When you consider that in Islam, there are several criteria to be met before electing any person as an imam in prayers, and that the person's credentials must be distinctly clear of any vice or misdemeanour which is unbecoming of a leader, he two goon mentioned would fail misreably. Wasn't it reported that the Bagan guy physically whacked a young man just because he does not like the guy approaching his daughter? Even if he is being protective towards his daughter, punching the daylights out of the young man leaves lots of questions on this guy's credibility as a leader, and more certainly especially in leading a congregation.
Then there's that guy who fancies himself as Mike Tyson, wasn't he the guy who eloped with a princess, and they later married without the consent of the princess's wali, inviting the wrath of her father? If so, how could this guy be leading a congegration of people in singing praises to Allah s.w.t., when clearly, up to this date, there have been no admission nor signs of him - and the Bagan guy - regretting their actions? Well, in so far as I know, I have read none about it. As such then, it would especially interest non-Muslims to note that the types of these 2 goons will never be accepted as a leader within PAS or Islam, unless he shows clear signs of regret or repent. And simply by their continuing their association with the Sarkas, it shows they have not. And I have not a doubt in mind that Palah and that Bijan guy too would lead a congegration of their own.
2. For the past 20 years or more - since mid Madey's time - the Sarkas leaders have been giving Raya speeches. But as I remember prior to this, the speech was given by the King. I cannot remember about Merdeka Day speeches, but I would think it be so as well. But, if the Raya or Eidul Fitri is an Islamic celebration, how is it we have the Sarkas leaders giving speeches, seeing that it is they who espoused the separation of politics from Islam, which by the way, is what PAS is against as PAS would like to see Malaysia administered according to Islamic Principles? Should not the Raya speech be delivered by the King only, as he or his office is above politics? Because, I certainly do hate the Raya speech by the Sarkas leadership where their current leader has not absolved himself of nepotism and corruption, while another is seen by many as an accomplice to a murder; both, are certainly a no-no to leading a congregation of Muslims in prayers.
*3. Another thing, the sarkas through its tv stations, seem to propagate a different practice of Islam. For instance, during Ramadhan, they would show some religious programs which include tazkirah and Jejal Rasul series. But no sooner had Ramadhan come to an end, they begin broadcasting endless entertainment shows where where opposite genders mix freely and shake hands unbridled whereas in Islam, they are not supposed to. This does not come as a surprise since their top imam does exactly the same with a famous actress in a dinner party late last year. So, is there a diffence between Sarkas and PAS Islam? Plenty! There's just too many to be mentioned here.
Back to TV3 Raya greeting, this, is how I now view it: to manipulate and brainwash the minds of unwary young Malaysians into surrendering their just rights as a citizen to a nation rich not only in natural resources, but also the diversity of religion, race, and political belief. The TV3 Raya greeting, do not deserve the airtime, and I will certainly not give them any kiss kiss, hug hug...the sarkas leadership, most especially.
* Added 2/10/08. Almost forgot about it.
ps. Just in case a reader wonder quietly. No, I'm no firebrand preacher. In fact, I'm not fit to be even a preacher. Just someone with a thinking different from Sarkas.
Alhamdulillah, for the first since we moved here, the house received quite a number of guests for Raya. I have to admit though, I now make a poor host. Not for anything, but running between serving the dishes and chatting with guests, one sometimes miss out on the hints where a guest would prefer the company of the host rather than the food. Not that I consider myself perfectly adorable, but foods aplenty in any house one goes to. But a host being a host, a guest should be well treated with whatever food is available. The company, will have to take second place in between the running. It is for the same reason I have restricted myself from visiting friends, not wanting to let Emak run herself to the ground serving any guests that drops by. Emak being Emak, will never sit easy if a guest is not served well. Knowing that well now, I no longer extend invitations to friends to drop by - I feel guilty watching Emak working in the kitchen, something no one can ask her not to; Emak after all, will be 76 this November. Thus, to any friends reading this, please forgive me in not inviting you, and kindly understand the situation. Still, that does not mean one cannot drop by. Please do.
This year too marked a first for the family when Din brought over his IT stuff and had Aiman, his son, fix a temporary wireless router so that we can do video conferencing with Din's two daughters as well as Ana and family. But of Din's daughters, only Hanis vidcam was working while Ana was not at home. Still, it was nice to see and talk to Hanis as the last she came back was 4 years back. She is, Emak's first grandchild.
Another first is when a neighbour, Encik Mohamed, brought his daughters along for Raya. Now, the eldest daughter, Akmar, will be graduating soon and this is the first time I meet her. And wow, is she a beauty! Thus, as with front neighbour Halim's daughters visit earlier in the morning, I thought of doing a 'Salam Raya' with Akmar as well - one with the kiss kiss, hug hug - but had second thoughts. I mean Halim and I are quite close and know when each is merely playing around, but not with Mohamed. Not only is he a religious guy, but he is also the Khariat Kematian representative for this street. By chance should Akmar think I was serious and decide to 'Salam Raya' with me...aiyai yai! Tomorrow's headline might then read either "Cakapaje in shotgun marriage!', or 'Cakapaje shotgunned!". Certainly not a delightful 2nd Raya Day reading, but certainly better than this next part.
TV3 Raya greetings this year showed 2 cat burglars about to be caught by the husband-wife residents of a house. I quite like the greeting but only up to the part where one of the burglars replied to the husband's challenge, admitting that they were cats. Though not original, I thought the greeting was funny. But when the other burglar put his hand to the mouth and supposedly replied 'Baru habis puasa, jangan tambah dosa', I wonder who the message is intended for or to. Perhaps on a glance, one could say the message was well meant for the public not to commit crimes or sins. But since it supposedly came from one of the burglars and directed to the residents of the house, I really do wonder. Could it perhaps, actually be meant for Malaysians not to defend their properties and rights in the face of wrongdoings by the supposedly leaders of this country? A bit far fetched, I admit. Then again, consider these:
1. Seen throughout the nation, RTM1 had some Sarkas leaders leading the Takbir congegration. Again, perhaps one might not think much about it, I admit. But when I read LanH's column in the English Section of Harakah 29 Sept - 5 October, where a delegation of MCA leaders visited Harakah and asked the difference between Sarkas's Islam and PAS Islam, I see a link there somewhere, and that somewhere is as below.
Now, I don't know about the rest of the Sarkas leaders leading the Takbir but certainly saw that one guy from Bagan, in Perak, and the other guy from Selangor who fancies himself as a Mike Tyson. When you consider that in Islam, there are several criteria to be met before electing any person as an imam in prayers, and that the person's credentials must be distinctly clear of any vice or misdemeanour which is unbecoming of a leader, he two goon mentioned would fail misreably. Wasn't it reported that the Bagan guy physically whacked a young man just because he does not like the guy approaching his daughter? Even if he is being protective towards his daughter, punching the daylights out of the young man leaves lots of questions on this guy's credibility as a leader, and more certainly especially in leading a congregation.
Then there's that guy who fancies himself as Mike Tyson, wasn't he the guy who eloped with a princess, and they later married without the consent of the princess's wali, inviting the wrath of her father? If so, how could this guy be leading a congegration of people in singing praises to Allah s.w.t., when clearly, up to this date, there have been no admission nor signs of him - and the Bagan guy - regretting their actions? Well, in so far as I know, I have read none about it. As such then, it would especially interest non-Muslims to note that the types of these 2 goons will never be accepted as a leader within PAS or Islam, unless he shows clear signs of regret or repent. And simply by their continuing their association with the Sarkas, it shows they have not. And I have not a doubt in mind that Palah and that Bijan guy too would lead a congegration of their own.
2. For the past 20 years or more - since mid Madey's time - the Sarkas leaders have been giving Raya speeches. But as I remember prior to this, the speech was given by the King. I cannot remember about Merdeka Day speeches, but I would think it be so as well. But, if the Raya or Eidul Fitri is an Islamic celebration, how is it we have the Sarkas leaders giving speeches, seeing that it is they who espoused the separation of politics from Islam, which by the way, is what PAS is against as PAS would like to see Malaysia administered according to Islamic Principles? Should not the Raya speech be delivered by the King only, as he or his office is above politics? Because, I certainly do hate the Raya speech by the Sarkas leadership where their current leader has not absolved himself of nepotism and corruption, while another is seen by many as an accomplice to a murder; both, are certainly a no-no to leading a congregation of Muslims in prayers.
*3. Another thing, the sarkas through its tv stations, seem to propagate a different practice of Islam. For instance, during Ramadhan, they would show some religious programs which include tazkirah and Jejal Rasul series. But no sooner had Ramadhan come to an end, they begin broadcasting endless entertainment shows where where opposite genders mix freely and shake hands unbridled whereas in Islam, they are not supposed to. This does not come as a surprise since their top imam does exactly the same with a famous actress in a dinner party late last year. So, is there a diffence between Sarkas and PAS Islam? Plenty! There's just too many to be mentioned here.
Back to TV3 Raya greeting, this, is how I now view it: to manipulate and brainwash the minds of unwary young Malaysians into surrendering their just rights as a citizen to a nation rich not only in natural resources, but also the diversity of religion, race, and political belief. The TV3 Raya greeting, do not deserve the airtime, and I will certainly not give them any kiss kiss, hug hug...the sarkas leadership, most especially.
* Added 2/10/08. Almost forgot about it.
ps. Just in case a reader wonder quietly. No, I'm no firebrand preacher. In fact, I'm not fit to be even a preacher. Just someone with a thinking different from Sarkas.
Sunday, August 10, 2008
Rimbun Seni
Elviza text me yesterday and earlier this morning about visiting Raden at the hospital. Though I did not say it to her, I do apologise for not being able to make it as there was already a prior engagement - a family lunch ado at my eldest brother's house in Kota Kemuning.
Now Suhaimi, or Emi, as he is called by friends and family circle, is the brother I referred to in an entry or two previous, as a more refined and cultured person compared to me. Bestowed with the finer aspects of life, which perhaps was inherited from Emak, Emi was always into arts and design since young, and his first job was a draughtsman in KL was back in the early late 1970's. Later on, he moved on as an Art Director to an advertising agency, and from there climbed the ranks to become a Creative Director at several agencies, local and international. One of his best works in the industry was the Proton Ad featuring several horsemen at a beach.
Several years back, he quit the industry and started his own Landscaping & Design company named Rimbunseni Sdn Bhd. Building the company from scratch, his house has been featured several time in the print media and TV, as a showcase of his artistic design. And there we were earlier today, the few family members here in KL, for a delicious but hot Mee Udang.
Clockwise: Din (the brains of the family), Emak, Emi, Zaini (Emi's wife) and Yasmin (Din's wife).
The younger generation in KL, minus one: Hanan, Hanin, and Norsara.
Emi has a love for real large pots such as the one above.
Running out of space within his compound, he utilised the open space beside it.
The local authorities does not seem to mind as Emi has turned the space
into a beautiful garden while maintaining it at the same time.
His website www.rimbunseni.com.my seem to be down for the moment, but one can always google rimbunseni to find several entries on it, including one by that cakapaje bloke way back in 2006.
Now Suhaimi, or Emi, as he is called by friends and family circle, is the brother I referred to in an entry or two previous, as a more refined and cultured person compared to me. Bestowed with the finer aspects of life, which perhaps was inherited from Emak, Emi was always into arts and design since young, and his first job was a draughtsman in KL was back in the early late 1970's. Later on, he moved on as an Art Director to an advertising agency, and from there climbed the ranks to become a Creative Director at several agencies, local and international. One of his best works in the industry was the Proton Ad featuring several horsemen at a beach.
Several years back, he quit the industry and started his own Landscaping & Design company named Rimbunseni Sdn Bhd. Building the company from scratch, his house has been featured several time in the print media and TV, as a showcase of his artistic design. And there we were earlier today, the few family members here in KL, for a delicious but hot Mee Udang.
Clockwise: Din (the brains of the family), Emak, Emi, Zaini (Emi's wife) and Yasmin (Din's wife).
The younger generation in KL, minus one: Hanan, Hanin, and Norsara.
Emi has a love for real large pots such as the one above.
Running out of space within his compound, he utilised the open space beside it.The local authorities does not seem to mind as Emi has turned the space
into a beautiful garden while maintaining it at the same time.
His website www.rimbunseni.com.my seem to be down for the moment, but one can always google rimbunseni to find several entries on it, including one by that cakapaje bloke way back in 2006.
Monday, June 16, 2008
Ganu June 13, 2008
She is an absolute beauty: Long, slim body that demand attention from all, strangers and kins alike. Her body moves gracefully as though swaying with the gentle breeze of the sea. Yet, she remains shy, almost afraid to reveal her true beauty to many. Perhaps, under her soft appearance, lies a secret to be told. One, that has helped her to mature and make her the lady she is. But I have yet to discover neither her full beauty, nor her secrets, yet.
We left Gombak at around 10.30am, making a 30minutes stop at the Genting Sempah R&R for a light meal. Less than 3hours later, we made another short stop at another R&R for a short break. Not accustomed to having a camera with me when I travel, I did not begin to take any shots until we reached Marang, where we stopped to buy Nira. (Please click to enlarge pictures).
The Nira was not fresh and had some pong when the bottle was opened.
Some of the dried delicacies on sale at the Nira stall. Being a food heaven, Ganu definitely is not.
Driving at an average of 100-110kmph - have to, with the 2 emaks as my passengers - we arrived at KT around 6pm and made our way to the Jambatan Sultan Mahmud to meet the owner of the Homestay, where we spent 2 lovely nights.
Another homestay unit being added at the rear of the one we stayed.
Front entrance of the homestay.
Staying in Pakatan Riverside Homestay was akin to renting an apartment or chalet. In fact, I would rate Pakatan as a better stay. Apart from the family privacy it affords, it is actually located on the banks of Sungai Terengganu! The family who owns and operates the place, also operates a fiberglass shipbuilding and jet ski enterprise. Encik Shahid, the eldest son, was very friendly and accommodating to us and we were very happy and thoroughly satisfied with our stay there; I would seriously recommend their homestay to anyone wanting to visit Terengganu.
Perhaps, the only downside - if there is any - is that they do not have a house fronting the sea. The lapping sound of the waves, can be soothing to the ears at night, serenading one to sleep. For the more creative mind, it may allow their creative juice to escape and be free of inhibitions.
Almost like home - with Astro and a complete kitchen, minus the goods.
I think this blue t-shirt mamat was trying to tow those jet skis to the river by himself!
Fortunately, Azman - my cousin, my uncle - was standing at the rear gate to the Olympic-size swimming pool behind the homestay.
Later that same evening, we went to a kopitiam (name not mentioned due to obvious reasons to be read later) which Makcik Yam had read in the papers. Well, she was actually craving for KB's White House Kopitiam but since we were not heading there, had to settle for a not so satisfying meal. And after the meal, while Azman and his family went off elsewhere, I took the 2 emaks to Pantai Batu Buruk for some night air.
(l to r) Makcik Yam, Emak, Midah, Jazlan, Abby and Azman
A strange concoction - teh tarik and a slice of orange fruit.
About the only notable dish - popiah kahwin.
While the 2 emaks talked their talk, I strolled the beach alone. On the way back, I saw an old man talking to the 2 emaks and saw my emak handing out some money to him. Dressed in sarong and a simple shirt, the man claims to be a patient at the hospital nearby and was suffering from a liver problem. I neither believe, nor disbelieve, as I was reminded of a story told to me on my first solo drive around the peninsular, reaching KT along the way.
Then, a certain official was riding his horse on the beach when an old man coming out of nowhere crossed his path. Perhaps taken by surprise, the official was enraged. He dismounted, went to the old man and slapped his face. The official then went back and mounted his horse. But as he did so, the horse stood on its hind legs throwing the official off. He fell to the ground and suffered a cracked skull. Leaving the hospital many months later, the official went back to the spot where he fell and waited for the old man to seek forgiveness - he did not find him. For many years after that, the official would walk the beach with the same intention, and at the same time handing out money to help the poor he finds there. I don't know how far true the story is, but take it as it is.
Anyway, next morning instead of the planned 2 cars to join the groom's convoy, only Azman and his family went - the 2 emaks decided not to go to rest their aching bodies. With age, I guess a good night's sleep was not enough to rest their body from a 6hours journey. Quite understandable, and I decided to follow suit. Only that, in the later part of the morning just before the ladies have their nap, I went off on my own to Batu Buruk. I could not venture far just in case the 2 ladies needs me. Further, I was also to bring their lunch.
The 2 lovely emaks.
Azman and his family.
Hmm...that same blue t-shirt guy who tried to tow those jet skis...again!
Wonder whose feet and bandaged toe this belong to?
Sitting alone absorbing the sounds and scenery of the beach was perhaps - to me - the highlight of the short stay there. I don't need to visit the Islam Hadhari Park, nor the masjids within, if visiting them was for the purpose of gawking at millions of ringgits that could have been better spent elsewhere. Did I not mentioned I love being alone with my thoughts only? I did not? Oh well...there were more interesting...er, shall we say, subjects to look at and talk to; what's a visit to Ganu if one does not soak in the beauty.
Fiza and Yatie; 2, er...natural beauty.
If I had not, I don't think its fair to bore you with other details of the day there.
On Sunday morning before departing back, we had a delicious breakfast of Nasi Dagang and Nasi Kerabu.
The Nasi Dagang which was packed in cone shape, had me fooled for a moment thinking it was Nasi Tumpang.
Before leaving KT, we simply had to make 2 stops to buy keropok lekor - once in Losong, and the other along the way out of KT. The second stop, 007 stall, I would highly recommend, even if it is just for the sauce.
Can't say for anyone else, but I do like boiled and unfried keropok lekor.
A delight packing. Oops! I mean, being packed.
Boiled, then fried; not shaken, and not stirred: the 007 stall. Though their lekor is darker in colour, it definitely is tastier.
Now, were I traveling alone, I would definitely have made more stops, taking pictures of the scenic spots and the er...natural beauty, which is found in abundance in Ganu. But when one travel with the elderly, then one has to take into consideration of their needs.
A Satar stall at Kemaman. It was not Aziz Satar as bebee suggested as we could not find it.
Shots on the run - one hand on the wheel, while the other clicking away.
Ganu, insyAllah, one day I will return with a better camera and perhaps alone, as I have done in the past. When I do, I will seek your secrets and lay your beauty bare. SubhanAllah.
We left Gombak at around 10.30am, making a 30minutes stop at the Genting Sempah R&R for a light meal. Less than 3hours later, we made another short stop at another R&R for a short break. Not accustomed to having a camera with me when I travel, I did not begin to take any shots until we reached Marang, where we stopped to buy Nira. (Please click to enlarge pictures).
The Nira was not fresh and had some pong when the bottle was opened. 
Some of the dried delicacies on sale at the Nira stall. Being a food heaven, Ganu definitely is not.Driving at an average of 100-110kmph - have to, with the 2 emaks as my passengers - we arrived at KT around 6pm and made our way to the Jambatan Sultan Mahmud to meet the owner of the Homestay, where we spent 2 lovely nights.
Another homestay unit being added at the rear of the one we stayed.
Front entrance of the homestay.Staying in Pakatan Riverside Homestay was akin to renting an apartment or chalet. In fact, I would rate Pakatan as a better stay. Apart from the family privacy it affords, it is actually located on the banks of Sungai Terengganu! The family who owns and operates the place, also operates a fiberglass shipbuilding and jet ski enterprise. Encik Shahid, the eldest son, was very friendly and accommodating to us and we were very happy and thoroughly satisfied with our stay there; I would seriously recommend their homestay to anyone wanting to visit Terengganu.
Perhaps, the only downside - if there is any - is that they do not have a house fronting the sea. The lapping sound of the waves, can be soothing to the ears at night, serenading one to sleep. For the more creative mind, it may allow their creative juice to escape and be free of inhibitions.
Almost like home - with Astro and a complete kitchen, minus the goods.
I think this blue t-shirt mamat was trying to tow those jet skis to the river by himself!
Fortunately, Azman - my cousin, my uncle - was standing at the rear gate to the Olympic-size swimming pool behind the homestay.Later that same evening, we went to a kopitiam (name not mentioned due to obvious reasons to be read later) which Makcik Yam had read in the papers. Well, she was actually craving for KB's White House Kopitiam but since we were not heading there, had to settle for a not so satisfying meal. And after the meal, while Azman and his family went off elsewhere, I took the 2 emaks to Pantai Batu Buruk for some night air.
(l to r) Makcik Yam, Emak, Midah, Jazlan, Abby and Azman
A strange concoction - teh tarik and a slice of orange fruit.
About the only notable dish - popiah kahwin.While the 2 emaks talked their talk, I strolled the beach alone. On the way back, I saw an old man talking to the 2 emaks and saw my emak handing out some money to him. Dressed in sarong and a simple shirt, the man claims to be a patient at the hospital nearby and was suffering from a liver problem. I neither believe, nor disbelieve, as I was reminded of a story told to me on my first solo drive around the peninsular, reaching KT along the way.
Then, a certain official was riding his horse on the beach when an old man coming out of nowhere crossed his path. Perhaps taken by surprise, the official was enraged. He dismounted, went to the old man and slapped his face. The official then went back and mounted his horse. But as he did so, the horse stood on its hind legs throwing the official off. He fell to the ground and suffered a cracked skull. Leaving the hospital many months later, the official went back to the spot where he fell and waited for the old man to seek forgiveness - he did not find him. For many years after that, the official would walk the beach with the same intention, and at the same time handing out money to help the poor he finds there. I don't know how far true the story is, but take it as it is.
Anyway, next morning instead of the planned 2 cars to join the groom's convoy, only Azman and his family went - the 2 emaks decided not to go to rest their aching bodies. With age, I guess a good night's sleep was not enough to rest their body from a 6hours journey. Quite understandable, and I decided to follow suit. Only that, in the later part of the morning just before the ladies have their nap, I went off on my own to Batu Buruk. I could not venture far just in case the 2 ladies needs me. Further, I was also to bring their lunch.
The 2 lovely emaks.
Azman and his family.
Hmm...that same blue t-shirt guy who tried to tow those jet skis...again!
Wonder whose feet and bandaged toe this belong to?Sitting alone absorbing the sounds and scenery of the beach was perhaps - to me - the highlight of the short stay there. I don't need to visit the Islam Hadhari Park, nor the masjids within, if visiting them was for the purpose of gawking at millions of ringgits that could have been better spent elsewhere. Did I not mentioned I love being alone with my thoughts only? I did not? Oh well...there were more interesting...er, shall we say, subjects to look at and talk to; what's a visit to Ganu if one does not soak in the beauty.
Fiza and Yatie; 2, er...natural beauty.If I had not, I don't think its fair to bore you with other details of the day there.
On Sunday morning before departing back, we had a delicious breakfast of Nasi Dagang and Nasi Kerabu.
The Nasi Dagang which was packed in cone shape, had me fooled for a moment thinking it was Nasi Tumpang.Before leaving KT, we simply had to make 2 stops to buy keropok lekor - once in Losong, and the other along the way out of KT. The second stop, 007 stall, I would highly recommend, even if it is just for the sauce.
Can't say for anyone else, but I do like boiled and unfried keropok lekor.
A delight packing. Oops! I mean, being packed.
Boiled, then fried; not shaken, and not stirred: the 007 stall. Though their lekor is darker in colour, it definitely is tastier.Now, were I traveling alone, I would definitely have made more stops, taking pictures of the scenic spots and the er...natural beauty, which is found in abundance in Ganu. But when one travel with the elderly, then one has to take into consideration of their needs.
A Satar stall at Kemaman. It was not Aziz Satar as bebee suggested as we could not find it.
Shots on the run - one hand on the wheel, while the other clicking away.
Ganu, insyAllah, one day I will return with a better camera and perhaps alone, as I have done in the past. When I do, I will seek your secrets and lay your beauty bare. SubhanAllah.
Stranger On Ganu's Shores
Well, not exactly. I've been there countless times and one of my earliest childhood memory was when we traveled from KB to Rantau Abang to watch the now nearly extinct Giant Leatherback Turtles(on our shores only). Another, was when we moved to KL from KB, spending a night at one of the many beaches there; but where, I do not know. Still, it was great to be back in Ganu.
Ok, no stories for now - will do so until I downloaded all the pics and till Azman email his to me. For the moment, enjoy the music and the lyrics below. But before that, thank you Cikgu and Doc TA for your concern and communiques. And thank you too shirzad for calling.
Stranger On The Shore - Acker Bilk
Here I stand, watching the tide go out
So all alone and blue
Just dreaming dreams of you
I watched your ship as it sailed out to sea
Taking all my dreams
And taking all of me
The sighing of the waves
The wailing of the wind
The tears in my eyes burn
Pleading, "My love, return"
Why, oh, why must I go on like this?
Shall I just be a lonely stranger on the shore?
The sighing of the waves
The wailing of the wind
The tears in my eyes burn
Pleading, "My love, return"
Ok, no stories for now - will do so until I downloaded all the pics and till Azman email his to me. For the moment, enjoy the music and the lyrics below. But before that, thank you Cikgu and Doc TA for your concern and communiques. And thank you too shirzad for calling.
Stranger On The Shore - Acker Bilk
Here I stand, watching the tide go out
So all alone and blue
Just dreaming dreams of you
I watched your ship as it sailed out to sea
Taking all my dreams
And taking all of me
The sighing of the waves
The wailing of the wind
The tears in my eyes burn
Pleading, "My love, return"
Why, oh, why must I go on like this?
Shall I just be a lonely stranger on the shore?
The sighing of the waves
The wailing of the wind
The tears in my eyes burn
Pleading, "My love, return"
Saturday, February 16, 2008
No Vacancy
It was a meet I had not expected. Prior to it, I had the choice of putting my guard up or just be casual about it; I chose the latter. And I am glad I did, for 2 reasons. One, had I put up my guard up, I would be rather rude for it mean having suppositions about the people I was about to meet, and it would be a tense and tiring affair. And I do hate being all tensed up and hate it more later when I would be all tired over the matter. Now, the other reason is that by being casual about it, the meet became friendly, allowing some precious knowledge to enter my thick skull.
Now, before I carry on, I would like to share some simple notes a dear friend imparted to me last night. Its about a human invention that has left an indelible mark but one that may well not be liked by lovers of the fountain pen, and one that many consciously not give it a second thought - the humble lead pencil.
Now, before I carry on, I would like to share some simple notes a dear friend imparted to me last night. Its about a human invention that has left an indelible mark but one that may well not be liked by lovers of the fountain pen, and one that many consciously not give it a second thought - the humble lead pencil.
1. like a pencil, we are capable of doing things ..for that pencil, there's a hand that guides it to do sketches sumer kan..so for human beings.. that hand is God's hands..and God will guide us with His will lah...
2. once in a while, the pencil needs some sharpening kan..sbb tumpul..so masa tuh pensel tuh mcm 'terseksa' kejap BUT in the ned it becomes sharper than before. it goes to show in our lives that trials and tribulations are necessary to make you stronger
3. bila guna pencil, ada guna eraser jugak kan. so the point is bila kita kena buat perubahan dlm kehidupan or kalau dlm buku it says 'rub out any mistake', is not necessarily a bad thing, just goes to show that it will keep us on the right track.
4. luaran pensel tk penting, yg granite dlm tuh lagi penting. so kalo manusia, it's what inside of you yg penting..
5. pencils leave a mark. so, kita hidup pun kena conscious and aware of what we do for it too will leave a mark.
Back to the meet I had, it was with 2 elderly gentlemen from Johor. Both men are called Ustaz by the host of the house they were staying and each specialise in their respective field; Ustaz Haji tries to assist those with physical ailments via do'a and herbal medicines, while Ustaz Yusof engages visitors with Islamic thoughts and views. Together, they make a very likable pair especially with the former constantly intruding the conversation with his remarks which though true in many instances, his body and face expressions brought out small laughs amongst those present. And the conversation itself - though it was supposed to be a talk by Ustaz Yusof, was not dry and monologue, but opened to participation from those present, who beside my emak and I, were the host family members. It was only towards the later stage did I manage to engage Ustaz Yusof for a private conversation.
Surprisingly, the conversation we had later, did touch on aspects similar to the pencil above. And it was nothing too deep for my mind to handle. Yet, it was, shall I say...enlightening? Indeed it was, and most especially when he touched on my personal side. Then again, perhaps he was being diplomatic about it, and like Ustaz Haji, humorous as well? I can't say, I dare not say.
Our private conversation touched on political issues as well, which he was very obliging and I am glad to note, similar to my stand. What made me smile most was when touched on the hadharian issue with an unquoted hadith "towards the later time, there will be many false apostles prophets. Perhaps they have forgotten that the Prophet Muhammad s.a.w. is the last of the prophets; the post and title of prophets have already been filled up, and there is no more vacancy".
Back to the meet I had, it was with 2 elderly gentlemen from Johor. Both men are called Ustaz by the host of the house they were staying and each specialise in their respective field; Ustaz Haji tries to assist those with physical ailments via do'a and herbal medicines, while Ustaz Yusof engages visitors with Islamic thoughts and views. Together, they make a very likable pair especially with the former constantly intruding the conversation with his remarks which though true in many instances, his body and face expressions brought out small laughs amongst those present. And the conversation itself - though it was supposed to be a talk by Ustaz Yusof, was not dry and monologue, but opened to participation from those present, who beside my emak and I, were the host family members. It was only towards the later stage did I manage to engage Ustaz Yusof for a private conversation.
Surprisingly, the conversation we had later, did touch on aspects similar to the pencil above. And it was nothing too deep for my mind to handle. Yet, it was, shall I say...enlightening? Indeed it was, and most especially when he touched on my personal side. Then again, perhaps he was being diplomatic about it, and like Ustaz Haji, humorous as well? I can't say, I dare not say.
Our private conversation touched on political issues as well, which he was very obliging and I am glad to note, similar to my stand. What made me smile most was when touched on the hadharian issue with an unquoted hadith "towards the later time, there will be many false apostles prophets. Perhaps they have forgotten that the Prophet Muhammad s.a.w. is the last of the prophets; the post and title of prophets have already been filled up, and there is no more vacancy".
Thursday, February 14, 2008
The Lull Before The Storm.
Before the storm begin in earnest (which will be by tomorrow)...
The Hunt for the Red October, is one of the best thriller books I have ever read. It was a gripping drama about the latest (then) Soviet missile submarine and was masterfully written by Tom Clancy, that there were strong rumours that such an event did take place secretly. But when they turned the book into a movie, it was a major disappointment not only for many of the book's fans, but also for the producers of the film.
For the fans of the book, the film failed to live up to the excitement in the book. For the producers though, they fail to make it into a box office movie. This was perhaps due to the film was released soon after the Cold War between the US and the Soviet Union came to an end. Thus, most people just could not be bothered about watching it. But as I mentioned, perhaps.
Thus I thought of doing a spoof here. But since I am having trouble keeping my eyes opened now, I shall make it brief so that you too will not have the same problem as I am.
It began early Saturday morning when Makcik Yam and her family coming to the house. And from there, we convoyed in 2 cars and headed to one of the many places I dread to go under normal circumstances. But since many people were still on Chinese New Year mood and mode, I guess it does fall into the abnormal circumstances category. And alhamdulillah, so it was as parking was ample, and the place almost deserted of shoppers.
So, while my Emak, Makcik Yam, Midah (MY's D-I-L), went off for their hunt, Azman and I went browsing at the bookstores along with his kids. Whilst there, I managed to get a pretty decent book as a present for a dear friend. I mean, I could not help it at all - just one look at the book and I was reminded of the friend! Then again, anywhere I look, I am always reminded of the dear friend too! Hmm...scary!
Anway, after some very long agonising wait afterwards, did the 2 beautiful sisters meet us back at the prearranged spot. And soon, we were off for lunch and a funny thing happened. While we had lunch at a shop somewhere near my friend's house, my friend was having lunch in a mall near my house! Well, it was funny to me then...can't say the same for you.
Anyway, since I have been mentioning her quite a bit, I just thought of putting my Makwa's picture up.
So now, the secret is out. On the left up there, is my beautiful 76year young Makwa with her sweet 72year young sister. Amongst her former primary school students as well friend's children, my emak is known as Makwa or Cikgu Hawa. For reasons unknown to me, Azman decided to bring his camera along and just started clicking away.
And that up there, is a corner of my Makwa's garden which she likes to work on. She does have a helper, mind you. There's a Wak Kromo aka Wak Supirman who comes around every morning to the garden to water them, besides being what I jokingly term as 'kuli-paksaan', as a reminder to those Japanese Forced Labour during World War II. And oh, that Wak Kromo aka Wak Supirman also goes by the name of cakapaje.
Back to the hunt. Just like the elusive Red October before it surrendered, the Red Tudung was never found. End of story.
The Hunt for the Red October, is one of the best thriller books I have ever read. It was a gripping drama about the latest (then) Soviet missile submarine and was masterfully written by Tom Clancy, that there were strong rumours that such an event did take place secretly. But when they turned the book into a movie, it was a major disappointment not only for many of the book's fans, but also for the producers of the film.
For the fans of the book, the film failed to live up to the excitement in the book. For the producers though, they fail to make it into a box office movie. This was perhaps due to the film was released soon after the Cold War between the US and the Soviet Union came to an end. Thus, most people just could not be bothered about watching it. But as I mentioned, perhaps.
Thus I thought of doing a spoof here. But since I am having trouble keeping my eyes opened now, I shall make it brief so that you too will not have the same problem as I am.
It began early Saturday morning when Makcik Yam and her family coming to the house. And from there, we convoyed in 2 cars and headed to one of the many places I dread to go under normal circumstances. But since many people were still on Chinese New Year mood and mode, I guess it does fall into the abnormal circumstances category. And alhamdulillah, so it was as parking was ample, and the place almost deserted of shoppers.
So, while my Emak, Makcik Yam, Midah (MY's D-I-L), went off for their hunt, Azman and I went browsing at the bookstores along with his kids. Whilst there, I managed to get a pretty decent book as a present for a dear friend. I mean, I could not help it at all - just one look at the book and I was reminded of the friend! Then again, anywhere I look, I am always reminded of the dear friend too! Hmm...scary!
Anway, after some very long agonising wait afterwards, did the 2 beautiful sisters meet us back at the prearranged spot. And soon, we were off for lunch and a funny thing happened. While we had lunch at a shop somewhere near my friend's house, my friend was having lunch in a mall near my house! Well, it was funny to me then...can't say the same for you.
Anyway, since I have been mentioning her quite a bit, I just thought of putting my Makwa's picture up.
So now, the secret is out. On the left up there, is my beautiful 76year young Makwa with her sweet 72year young sister. Amongst her former primary school students as well friend's children, my emak is known as Makwa or Cikgu Hawa. For reasons unknown to me, Azman decided to bring his camera along and just started clicking away.
And that up there, is a corner of my Makwa's garden which she likes to work on. She does have a helper, mind you. There's a Wak Kromo aka Wak Supirman who comes around every morning to the garden to water them, besides being what I jokingly term as 'kuli-paksaan', as a reminder to those Japanese Forced Labour during World War II. And oh, that Wak Kromo aka Wak Supirman also goes by the name of cakapaje.
Back to the hunt. Just like the elusive Red October before it surrendered, the Red Tudung was never found. End of story.
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Changing of The Guards
In almost all societies of the world, the eldest male normally assume the role of the head of a family; making decisions which especially affect the family as a whole, acting as the peacemaker in disputes between members; and sometimes putting their life or honour at stake for the sake of a family member who may have gone a wee bit out of line. Occasionally, a decision may come into disfavour of several and leads to a rift where the head has to stand his ground either for the good of many or the unity of the family itself; this very decision or act may see one or 2 members leaving the family for a new life elsewhere. But the practice of Head of family is coming to a past due to many reasons mainly due to migration for the want of a greener pasture.
By the way, I should stress that the term family here refers to extended large families living cohesively in a certain area. Though such living may be rare now, it still exist in many areas of the world where an entire community are blood-related. Perhaps, the longhouses in Sarawak and Sabah may still practice this. Closer to home, or perhaps I should say 'yours truly', such was the practice albeit in smaller units some very many years ago in the state of Melaka. Though there are gaps which need to be filled or verified, I will try to stay true to the knowledge that has been passed to me by the elder generation of the family.
A certain Abdul Rahman and his wife lived Melaka Pindah, a small village some several kilometers from the town of Alor Gajah. They had several children of which one son became a teacher and was posted to Ulu Bendol, Negeri Sembilan, where the son married a pretty woman by the name of Zainun. At the around the same time, one of his daughters married a teacher by the name of Jetti Ahmad from Pantai Belimbing, Melaka, where the couple then bought and made their house opposite Abdul Rahman's. A son of Abdul Rahman, Yassin, then moved to Kuala Lumpur and became a teacher as well as one of the leading members of the Scout Movement in Malaysia. 2 other sons, perhaps lured by stories of sea adventures, moved to Singapore and joined the sea merchants. But even with the family members far flung, the family members would still keep in constant touch, affirming their family bond and Abdul Rahman as the Head of the family. All matters of family concerned were left to Abdul Rahman's wisdom to make.
As the years rolled by, so do human age; Abdul Rahman and his wife passed away long before I was born - he was my great grandfather, on my mother's mother side. With his passing away, the role of patriarch was left to his son-in-law, Jetti Ahmad - my grandfather. And when my grandfather passed away some 20 years back, there were no real figures to step in. Without a patriarch acting as an anchor, the family drifts apart ever futher. The only senior member of the family who might have been able to fill the vacuum is a lady by the name of Zainun, the once pretty young lady in Ulu Bendol who married a son of Abdul Rahman. But at 90 and with failing eyesight and hearing, plus a deteriorating health, she is in no condition to be a matriarch commanding respect from the younger generations. Still, she commands our affection.
Thin and frail looking, she still bear semblance to the pretty lady she once must have been. Of fair complexion and standing a mere 5 feet tall or so, she has a soft melodious voice and would always greet her family members with a smile and a big hug. Perhaps, once of the most memorable thing I remember when visiting her many years ago in Ulu Bendol, was her signature dish of (a fish) masak lemak cili padi - though I sweat profusely from the hot dish, I took a liking for it as it had a sweet flavour unlike most masak lemak cili padi and it appealed to my taste buds. Off course, I was only what, 10 or 11 then? A mere child who had yet to experience the bitter sweet taste of life. But the memory of the dish and the visit to her house in the small village came rushing to my mind when emak, makcik yam, Azman and I went to see her in her son's house in Bangi, Selangor.
Zainun, or Nek Besar as those of my generation would call her, was recently discharged from the hospital. Earlier, she had some indigestion problem and was also suffering from dehydration. When we visited her then, and as we did this morning, her memory too seem to fail her, as it would anyone of her age. Still, she was cheery as any could be.
When I took into consideration of the visitors Nek Besar had at the hospital, and before or after our presence in the house, I was numbed for a moment. When I totaled the relatives that came a visiting, there were 5 generations in all still living from the family Abdul Rahman had built! Abdul Rahman's wife, Nek Besar, is the eldest member at 90. The generation below her, where my emak is, about 70-80; my generation is between 35-50; the generation below me, 25-35; and the youngest generation of the family is between 3-7 years old. Now, while this does make me feel old - being a granduncle at 45 - I am also comforted in thought that my youngest brother is only 15, and can also be called a granduncle! In other words then, I am still young...in spirit and mind, at least.
While my writing this is of little significance to anyone outside the family, it would, I hope, be a small guide for any member of this family who would like to trace the family tree.
Back to Nek Besar, though I do not pray it so, perhaps the time for Changing of The Guards looms nearer. But life and death is a matter only Allah s.w.t. knows. As mortals, our life is not defined by age, rather the circumstances of it. Death, has no respect for age; it comes at the precise time anointed - not a moment too soon, nor a moment too late. Young or old, is not within the dictionary of death.
I bear witness there is no God but Allah, and Muhammad (s.a.w.) is His Messenger.
By the way, I should stress that the term family here refers to extended large families living cohesively in a certain area. Though such living may be rare now, it still exist in many areas of the world where an entire community are blood-related. Perhaps, the longhouses in Sarawak and Sabah may still practice this. Closer to home, or perhaps I should say 'yours truly', such was the practice albeit in smaller units some very many years ago in the state of Melaka. Though there are gaps which need to be filled or verified, I will try to stay true to the knowledge that has been passed to me by the elder generation of the family.
A certain Abdul Rahman and his wife lived Melaka Pindah, a small village some several kilometers from the town of Alor Gajah. They had several children of which one son became a teacher and was posted to Ulu Bendol, Negeri Sembilan, where the son married a pretty woman by the name of Zainun. At the around the same time, one of his daughters married a teacher by the name of Jetti Ahmad from Pantai Belimbing, Melaka, where the couple then bought and made their house opposite Abdul Rahman's. A son of Abdul Rahman, Yassin, then moved to Kuala Lumpur and became a teacher as well as one of the leading members of the Scout Movement in Malaysia. 2 other sons, perhaps lured by stories of sea adventures, moved to Singapore and joined the sea merchants. But even with the family members far flung, the family members would still keep in constant touch, affirming their family bond and Abdul Rahman as the Head of the family. All matters of family concerned were left to Abdul Rahman's wisdom to make.
As the years rolled by, so do human age; Abdul Rahman and his wife passed away long before I was born - he was my great grandfather, on my mother's mother side. With his passing away, the role of patriarch was left to his son-in-law, Jetti Ahmad - my grandfather. And when my grandfather passed away some 20 years back, there were no real figures to step in. Without a patriarch acting as an anchor, the family drifts apart ever futher. The only senior member of the family who might have been able to fill the vacuum is a lady by the name of Zainun, the once pretty young lady in Ulu Bendol who married a son of Abdul Rahman. But at 90 and with failing eyesight and hearing, plus a deteriorating health, she is in no condition to be a matriarch commanding respect from the younger generations. Still, she commands our affection.
Thin and frail looking, she still bear semblance to the pretty lady she once must have been. Of fair complexion and standing a mere 5 feet tall or so, she has a soft melodious voice and would always greet her family members with a smile and a big hug. Perhaps, once of the most memorable thing I remember when visiting her many years ago in Ulu Bendol, was her signature dish of (a fish) masak lemak cili padi - though I sweat profusely from the hot dish, I took a liking for it as it had a sweet flavour unlike most masak lemak cili padi and it appealed to my taste buds. Off course, I was only what, 10 or 11 then? A mere child who had yet to experience the bitter sweet taste of life. But the memory of the dish and the visit to her house in the small village came rushing to my mind when emak, makcik yam, Azman and I went to see her in her son's house in Bangi, Selangor.
Zainun, or Nek Besar as those of my generation would call her, was recently discharged from the hospital. Earlier, she had some indigestion problem and was also suffering from dehydration. When we visited her then, and as we did this morning, her memory too seem to fail her, as it would anyone of her age. Still, she was cheery as any could be.
When I took into consideration of the visitors Nek Besar had at the hospital, and before or after our presence in the house, I was numbed for a moment. When I totaled the relatives that came a visiting, there were 5 generations in all still living from the family Abdul Rahman had built! Abdul Rahman's wife, Nek Besar, is the eldest member at 90. The generation below her, where my emak is, about 70-80; my generation is between 35-50; the generation below me, 25-35; and the youngest generation of the family is between 3-7 years old. Now, while this does make me feel old - being a granduncle at 45 - I am also comforted in thought that my youngest brother is only 15, and can also be called a granduncle! In other words then, I am still young...in spirit and mind, at least.
While my writing this is of little significance to anyone outside the family, it would, I hope, be a small guide for any member of this family who would like to trace the family tree.
Back to Nek Besar, though I do not pray it so, perhaps the time for Changing of The Guards looms nearer. But life and death is a matter only Allah s.w.t. knows. As mortals, our life is not defined by age, rather the circumstances of it. Death, has no respect for age; it comes at the precise time anointed - not a moment too soon, nor a moment too late. Young or old, is not within the dictionary of death.
I bear witness there is no God but Allah, and Muhammad (s.a.w.) is His Messenger.
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Keluarga 69...A Mixed-up Family
When I wrote about my late grandfather in October last year, I only had my mother as the source of his history in the military service. And when she relates the story, it is based on what she knew or thought she knew. Lately, I found some of the 'facts' were slightly distorted. I could not blame emak for the distortion for what she related were what she and her family perceived at the point of time. Further, she could not have been more than 13 years of age, where reality is perceived as what is seen through the eyes, and not what it should be.
When my arwah uncle passed away less than a fortnight ago, curiousity got the better of my s-i-l and she made a google search for my arwah grandfather's records, and found 2 related sites at KIPSAS and Regimen 502. From these 2 sites, it seems my arwah grandfather did not serve with the British Military during the 2nd World War, but was part of the Volunteer Corps formed by the British Military.
When the Japanese over ran all defending forces in the peninsular on their way to Singapore, Lt Jetti Ahmad and his fellow officers decided to hide their uniforms and resume their village life. But the Japanese, in their pursuit of territory, were short of people and began ferreting the VC officers. Initially, they guiled several officers into submission,including a Captain Abu Bakar, who's son I had pleasure of meeting as he was staying in Subang Jaya. Captain Abu Bakar and several officers who thought the Japanese were sincere in their offer, surrendered, were never seen again; they were believed to have been killed by the Japanese Army in a fit of revenge for the resolute stand of the VC. Lt Jetti and a few other officers on the other hand, were later ferreted out and forced to serve the Japanese Army.
Now, at this juncture of history, there seem to be some blanks which could not be filled. All we do know now is that my arwah grandfather, along with several other officers, were awarded medals for bravery by the British Army at the end of the war. How these officers served the British during their capture remains a mystery. Perhaps one day, someone will come up with the proper records, insyAllah.
But one of the most interesting thing I found about my arwah grandfather, was that he was sought for marriage by a man who later became his brother-in-law. When you look back at the custom of the Malays then, this is considered a rarity. Still, the marriage lasted a lifetime and the couple had 9 children of which 4 died in childhood.
As the children grew older, they each got married and have children of their own. But it was when 2 of the sisters got married which had the family kind of mixed up. Without wanting to go into further details, my mother off course, married my father, who is actually a distant nephew to her. Then, my father's uncle married my mother's younger sister. Thus my father became the elder b-i-l to his uncle, while at the same time a husband to a distant aunt. Hmm...
Now, my mother's sister, Makcik Yam, has a son by the name of Azman, who is younger to me. As a mark of respect, he calls me abang. But is that proper? For if we were to accept family lineage according to the male of the family, then Azman should be my uncle. Yet, he's the son to my mother's younger sister. Another hmm...
Granted, to outsiders, this thing matters not. But to the younger generation of the family who only recently know about this, they do find it amusing as well as perplexing. Ismail, a nephew, has even remarked it as Keluarga 69, the P Ramlee film he loved to watch when he was small, but is actually a reality in his family.
But anyway, to all my blogging brothers and sisters, and anyone who reads this, here's wishing you a "Selamat Menyambut Aidil Adha". May we become better Muslims with each passing day, insyAllah.
When my arwah uncle passed away less than a fortnight ago, curiousity got the better of my s-i-l and she made a google search for my arwah grandfather's records, and found 2 related sites at KIPSAS and Regimen 502. From these 2 sites, it seems my arwah grandfather did not serve with the British Military during the 2nd World War, but was part of the Volunteer Corps formed by the British Military.
When the Japanese over ran all defending forces in the peninsular on their way to Singapore, Lt Jetti Ahmad and his fellow officers decided to hide their uniforms and resume their village life. But the Japanese, in their pursuit of territory, were short of people and began ferreting the VC officers. Initially, they guiled several officers into submission,including a Captain Abu Bakar, who's son I had pleasure of meeting as he was staying in Subang Jaya. Captain Abu Bakar and several officers who thought the Japanese were sincere in their offer, surrendered, were never seen again; they were believed to have been killed by the Japanese Army in a fit of revenge for the resolute stand of the VC. Lt Jetti and a few other officers on the other hand, were later ferreted out and forced to serve the Japanese Army.
Now, at this juncture of history, there seem to be some blanks which could not be filled. All we do know now is that my arwah grandfather, along with several other officers, were awarded medals for bravery by the British Army at the end of the war. How these officers served the British during their capture remains a mystery. Perhaps one day, someone will come up with the proper records, insyAllah.
But one of the most interesting thing I found about my arwah grandfather, was that he was sought for marriage by a man who later became his brother-in-law. When you look back at the custom of the Malays then, this is considered a rarity. Still, the marriage lasted a lifetime and the couple had 9 children of which 4 died in childhood.
As the children grew older, they each got married and have children of their own. But it was when 2 of the sisters got married which had the family kind of mixed up. Without wanting to go into further details, my mother off course, married my father, who is actually a distant nephew to her. Then, my father's uncle married my mother's younger sister. Thus my father became the elder b-i-l to his uncle, while at the same time a husband to a distant aunt. Hmm...
Now, my mother's sister, Makcik Yam, has a son by the name of Azman, who is younger to me. As a mark of respect, he calls me abang. But is that proper? For if we were to accept family lineage according to the male of the family, then Azman should be my uncle. Yet, he's the son to my mother's younger sister. Another hmm...
Granted, to outsiders, this thing matters not. But to the younger generation of the family who only recently know about this, they do find it amusing as well as perplexing. Ismail, a nephew, has even remarked it as Keluarga 69, the P Ramlee film he loved to watch when he was small, but is actually a reality in his family.
But anyway, to all my blogging brothers and sisters, and anyone who reads this, here's wishing you a "Selamat Menyambut Aidil Adha". May we become better Muslims with each passing day, insyAllah.
Sunday, December 16, 2007
Mohd Noor Jetti
It was only last week on a Saturday night like tonight that I picked up the house telephone and called Melaka. On the other end, the phone rang 5 times before it was picked up. As he sounded panting for breath, I asked about his health which he said he was alright but slightly winded. Not thinking anything different, I then passed the call to emak to whom he admitted having a mild asthma attack. Though emak was concerned, we thought it was nothing too great to be worried about.
Early next morning, emak and I made our way to her youngest sister's house. Mariam, or Makcik Yam as we the younger generation call her, had invited us for lunch. We went there early as Azman, my cousin, and I wanted to go to the Pikom's PC Fair in KLCC, and wanted to avoid the Sunday afternoon crowd. Though my left foot was still slightly swollen and in pain, I felt obligated to go as he had asked me more than a month before.
It was about 11.45am and we were still moving through the crowd looking for the best deal we could get for the printer Azman wanted. While I was bargaining with one stall personnel, Azman received a call which ended rather abruptly. He later pulled me aside and said we needed to go back as Pak Besar, my uncle, was just admitted to the Melaka General Hospital. Along the way out however, Azman did manage to purchase his printer.
Later at Azman's house, we received another call from Melaka saying that Pak Besar had been released from the I.C.U and is now in a normal ward. That, I thought, took the urgency out of the matter. As my left foot was still in pain, especially from the walkabout at the KLCC, I asked to be excused from the drive to Melaka - having my leg almost locked in position for the 2hour to and fro trip might just aggravate my leg further, I explained.
Emak, Makcik Yam and Azman later left from my house at around 3.30pm. I put my feet up to rest and soon fell asleep, only to be awakened by another call at 4.18pm. The call had me choking in tears as I was informed that Pak Besar had just passed away - I felt a deep stab of pain and regret for not following emak earlier. Pushing aside the tears, I called Azman and asked him to break the news gently to emak and Makcik Yam, and then began making callings and sending text messages to family and friends.
The next morning, I arrived in Melaka along with Din, my elder brother and his family. Not soon later, Encik Rusli Ibrahim arrived on what I thought was DSAI's behalf. Lim Guan Eng and DAP Melaka too arrived about the same time. And I later learned that the PAS Alor Gajah people were at the house the previous evening itself.
Encik Mohd Noor Jetti, my arwah uncle, was a rather controversial figure when he was young. Having spent his college days in Singapore, he joined the People's Action Party sometime around late 1950's. Later, when he was a teacher in Ulu Choh Reservoir in Johor, he joined the DAP, where he became close to Lim Kit Siang and Lim Guan Eng.
To be honest, I know precious little of Allahyarham's history except for what was told to me by emak. But it certainly must have been interesting as my arwah grandfather was a PAS sympathiser since before Independence, and he has a son-in-law who became a prominent UMNO member. Surprisingly though, the difference in ideology did not erupt into hostilities though some harsh words may have been spoken; I really cannot say for certain. But as if to add more spice, my uncle's eldest son joined the Police Force, and was drafted into the Special Branch.
Allahyarham Mohd Noor Jetti's name may have never been heard outside the family and his associates. But he was a fighter, proud and even fiery at times. Around the age of 50, he and his wife moved back into Alor Gajah after my grandmother passed away. As the only surviving son out of 4 boys and 5 girls, he felt it was his responsibility to look after my arwah grandfather who was almost crippled in a road accident sometime in the mid 70's.
It was then my arwah uncle became knowledgeable about religion as he learned from his very own father, and a pious man from Singapore by the name of Almarhum Sidi Abdul Rashid, and later Sheikh Murtaza, the Mufti of Negeri Sembilan. By the time my grandfather passed away, Allahyarham Mohd Noor was no longer the fiery and secular politician he was, but a man with a deeper understanding of Islam and its spiritual values.
There's not much more I can add, but from the recent years of really knowing him, my arwah uncle was a loving man who, apart from looking after his father, also lovingly tended his youngest daughter who was suffering from Down Syndrome, and who had passed away earlier in March 2007. For nearly 25 years since his wife passed away, my arwah uncle faithfully performed his duty, both as a son and a father, and was assisted by another daughter by the name of Cikgu Anisah.
To my dear brothers and sisters of the blogging community, and for anyone who haps upon this, please forgive me if ever this entry is seen as vain on my part. But I felt compelled to write, especially by my guilt of not going back earlier. I know that in no certain ways would this entry atone me from the guilt, but it is, the very least I can do.
Early next morning, emak and I made our way to her youngest sister's house. Mariam, or Makcik Yam as we the younger generation call her, had invited us for lunch. We went there early as Azman, my cousin, and I wanted to go to the Pikom's PC Fair in KLCC, and wanted to avoid the Sunday afternoon crowd. Though my left foot was still slightly swollen and in pain, I felt obligated to go as he had asked me more than a month before.
It was about 11.45am and we were still moving through the crowd looking for the best deal we could get for the printer Azman wanted. While I was bargaining with one stall personnel, Azman received a call which ended rather abruptly. He later pulled me aside and said we needed to go back as Pak Besar, my uncle, was just admitted to the Melaka General Hospital. Along the way out however, Azman did manage to purchase his printer.
Later at Azman's house, we received another call from Melaka saying that Pak Besar had been released from the I.C.U and is now in a normal ward. That, I thought, took the urgency out of the matter. As my left foot was still in pain, especially from the walkabout at the KLCC, I asked to be excused from the drive to Melaka - having my leg almost locked in position for the 2hour to and fro trip might just aggravate my leg further, I explained.
Emak, Makcik Yam and Azman later left from my house at around 3.30pm. I put my feet up to rest and soon fell asleep, only to be awakened by another call at 4.18pm. The call had me choking in tears as I was informed that Pak Besar had just passed away - I felt a deep stab of pain and regret for not following emak earlier. Pushing aside the tears, I called Azman and asked him to break the news gently to emak and Makcik Yam, and then began making callings and sending text messages to family and friends.
The next morning, I arrived in Melaka along with Din, my elder brother and his family. Not soon later, Encik Rusli Ibrahim arrived on what I thought was DSAI's behalf. Lim Guan Eng and DAP Melaka too arrived about the same time. And I later learned that the PAS Alor Gajah people were at the house the previous evening itself.
Encik Mohd Noor Jetti, my arwah uncle, was a rather controversial figure when he was young. Having spent his college days in Singapore, he joined the People's Action Party sometime around late 1950's. Later, when he was a teacher in Ulu Choh Reservoir in Johor, he joined the DAP, where he became close to Lim Kit Siang and Lim Guan Eng.
To be honest, I know precious little of Allahyarham's history except for what was told to me by emak. But it certainly must have been interesting as my arwah grandfather was a PAS sympathiser since before Independence, and he has a son-in-law who became a prominent UMNO member. Surprisingly though, the difference in ideology did not erupt into hostilities though some harsh words may have been spoken; I really cannot say for certain. But as if to add more spice, my uncle's eldest son joined the Police Force, and was drafted into the Special Branch.
Allahyarham Mohd Noor Jetti's name may have never been heard outside the family and his associates. But he was a fighter, proud and even fiery at times. Around the age of 50, he and his wife moved back into Alor Gajah after my grandmother passed away. As the only surviving son out of 4 boys and 5 girls, he felt it was his responsibility to look after my arwah grandfather who was almost crippled in a road accident sometime in the mid 70's.
It was then my arwah uncle became knowledgeable about religion as he learned from his very own father, and a pious man from Singapore by the name of Almarhum Sidi Abdul Rashid, and later Sheikh Murtaza, the Mufti of Negeri Sembilan. By the time my grandfather passed away, Allahyarham Mohd Noor was no longer the fiery and secular politician he was, but a man with a deeper understanding of Islam and its spiritual values.
There's not much more I can add, but from the recent years of really knowing him, my arwah uncle was a loving man who, apart from looking after his father, also lovingly tended his youngest daughter who was suffering from Down Syndrome, and who had passed away earlier in March 2007. For nearly 25 years since his wife passed away, my arwah uncle faithfully performed his duty, both as a son and a father, and was assisted by another daughter by the name of Cikgu Anisah.
To my dear brothers and sisters of the blogging community, and for anyone who haps upon this, please forgive me if ever this entry is seen as vain on my part. But I felt compelled to write, especially by my guilt of not going back earlier. I know that in no certain ways would this entry atone me from the guilt, but it is, the very least I can do.
Sunday, December 09, 2007
Al-Fatihah...
Assalamu'alaikum warahmatullah hi wabarakatuh,
To my dear friends, brothers and sisters, and those who visits my humble blog. Foremost kindly forgive me as I have never done this before and honestly, do not know how to put it in words.
Innalillah wa innalillah hi rojiun.
Encik Mat Nor Jetti, kekanda kepada ibu ku, telah pulang ke rahmatullah pada jam 4.30 petang tadi di Hospital Melaka. Jenazah Allahyarham kini sedang diuruskan oleh anak anak dan akan dibawa pulang ke rumah di Melaka Pindah. Saya telah difahamkan bahawa Allahyarham akan dikebumikan di Tanah Perkuburan Islam, Melaka Pindah, pagi esok, hari Isnin, 10hb Disember.
Saya memohon kepada mereka yang mengenali Allahyarham untuk mengampunkan segala kesilapan dan kesalahan yang ada. Jika keperluan untuk menghubungi keluarga Allahyarham, sila hantar email kepada saya (seperti di profile) dan insyAllah saya akan sampaikan kepada keluarga Allahyarham.
Kepada semua, sudi kiranya dihadiahkan bacaan Al-Fatihah kepada Allahyarham. Semoga roh Allahyarham dicucuri rahmat.
Al-Fatihah...
Thank you.
To my dear friends, brothers and sisters, and those who visits my humble blog. Foremost kindly forgive me as I have never done this before and honestly, do not know how to put it in words.
Innalillah wa innalillah hi rojiun.
Encik Mat Nor Jetti, kekanda kepada ibu ku, telah pulang ke rahmatullah pada jam 4.30 petang tadi di Hospital Melaka. Jenazah Allahyarham kini sedang diuruskan oleh anak anak dan akan dibawa pulang ke rumah di Melaka Pindah. Saya telah difahamkan bahawa Allahyarham akan dikebumikan di Tanah Perkuburan Islam, Melaka Pindah, pagi esok, hari Isnin, 10hb Disember.
Saya memohon kepada mereka yang mengenali Allahyarham untuk mengampunkan segala kesilapan dan kesalahan yang ada. Jika keperluan untuk menghubungi keluarga Allahyarham, sila hantar email kepada saya (seperti di profile) dan insyAllah saya akan sampaikan kepada keluarga Allahyarham.
Kepada semua, sudi kiranya dihadiahkan bacaan Al-Fatihah kepada Allahyarham. Semoga roh Allahyarham dicucuri rahmat.
Al-Fatihah...
Thank you.
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