How to have good command of the English Language

I've been asked on a number of occasions by my famous little sister, Waridah the story teller to write on tips to be competent in the English Language. I'm not saying my English is any good but I guess it's good enough that I could understand when the language is spoken by its native speakers. So, this entry is an attempt to fulfilling her request.

My siblings and I were brought up in a military quarters not too far from the heart of Kuala Lumpur. Our dad used to work for the armed forces. I'm not quite sure what exactly did our dad do. All I could remember was that he would sometimes bring home exam transcripts to be marked. There were even times when he'd return grunting about how bad some of the cadets' English was. If I remember correctly, in his grunt, dad said sternly, "I don't want any of my kids to write like this. You must all have good command of English. You must speak fluent English". That was the beginning how my sister and I were trained to be competent in the colonial language. Our dad would bring home comic strips for us to read and he'd pushed us to volunteer to do public speaking at our school assembly. I didn't quite like it then but I guess I have to thank him now. Had it not been for him, I don't think I'l ever manage to over come my stage fright and gain the courage to speak in public. Our dad conversed in English with us at home to further improve our fluency. During our birthdays, dad presented us with English novels. I still remember as I entered my teen ages, dad bought me my very first set of Nancy Drew's mystery novels for my 13th birthday. Other than books, our dad encouraged us to watch English tv programs be it cartoon show, tv series or movies. I must say watching a lot of tv shows and movies have tremendously helped me to converse in English. Not only do I get to listen to the way words are pronounced but also I learned to understand spoken English. 

You see, that was the kind of regiment our dad put us through to ensure that we are moulded the way he wanted us to be. Sure at first I felt forced, but the more I read the more I understand the language. And as I have better understanding in the language, I started to love it as much as my dad's love for the language.

Whoa! That is a long rambling on some tips. Let's summarise them for your ease of reading:

1-Read a lot of English reading materials be it fiction or non fiction books, magazines, newspapers. In the beginning, it is best if you read out loud in order to pronounce the words correctly and hear how you sound if you are to converse in English.
2-Get a good English-to-English dictionary for you to refer to if you need to look up for the meaning of words you're not familiar with. Avoid using English-to-other language dictionary because doing so would discourage thinking in English. 

3-Watch tv programs in English, or movies at the cinema. And if you're watching a movie on dvd, be sure to put the English subtitle on because you'll do both listening and reading at the same time
4-Practice the language by having conversations with others

5-Keep a diary written in English. The best way to practice writing is to tell the story of your everyday life. I learned this tip from my English teacher when I was 13. 

6-Don't worry too much about grammatical error. As you read, you'll subconsciously learn and know what is right and what is not right.  

Do try the above tips. You'll begin to notice the difference within a year or less if you follow them religiously.  

#MemoriesofWardinaLothpi

So it has been 20 years since Titanic...

and it has been seven years since the last time I posted anything here. I have one thousand and one reasons for putting this blog on a long pause, most of the reasons are discreet and I prefer to keep it that way. Recently however as I was re-reading my past entries I decided to resume the sharing of my thoughts into the cyberspace as they will soon become distant memories for those who knew me. And I for certain want my children to read and share these distant memories with their children when my time is this mortal world is put to a halt. I want my memories and stories be told to my descendants for they may learn a thing or two from my past.

Anyhow, last night as I was watching e-news on the television, the entertainment news caught my attention when the reporter interviewed the singer of Titanic theme song, My Heart will Go On; Celine Dion asking the infamous singer what did feel when they recorded the song 20 years ago. It was then that I realised Titanic was first released twenty years ago. It struck me then that it was some 20 years ago I first set foot into a cinema with my friends from college. I could vividly recall our first experience like it was yesterday. We were all drawn to watch the most anticipated romantic movie of the year on the big screen mainly because of the actor ie Leonardo DiCaprio. Leo was a heartthrob (he still is) to many teenagers back then. I went to the cinema twice just to watch Leo fell into the deep ocean on the big screen and I cried every time that handsome face of his slowly merged into the sea.

I wasn't the only one who was crazy about Leo and Titanic. It turned out my little sisters too had a crush on him. When I returned home from college, I was surprised to be greeted by a big poster of Titanic at the back of our bedroom door. Not only that, they even had a booklet of Leo's photos. Never had I realised that my sisters and I would share the same interest. Despite having watched the film twice at the cinema, I watched it again and again with my sisters at home once the CD was released. I remember how we criticised the way Leo's character; Jack gave up a chance to save himself from freezing to death to Kate Winslet's character;  and how we wished for Jack to not die too soon in the film. Perhaps it is not too much for me to say that Leo was our first crush.

Leo is no longer a young man as am I. A lot of things have changed since Titanic first's screening in the lives of its casts, production crews and its millions viewers. Leo has finally won his first Oscar last year after numerous nominations and his heroine Kate won her Oscar a few years back. The phrase "tonight Titanic celebrates its 20th anniversary", kept ringing in my ears and suddenly it dawned on me, what have I achieved in these past two decades? Hmmmm

#MemoriesLiveOn

Been away

My family and I had been busy attending to family invitation for the past few weeks. Not long after we return from our trip to Penang, we took our eldest, Azhan to a clinic and got him circumcised. We had to stay at my mom's for about a week before we could take Azhan home coz the clinic was close to my mom's. Alhamdulillah, Azhan has fully recovered within a week.

Recently, we went to my Gramp's place to fulfill his wish to gather all his relatives and introduce the new family members to others. Our journey back wasn't actually planned as a couple of days before the weekend, my hubby was busily engaged with his work. I had the assumption that we'd have to turn down my Gramp's wish. So, he was a lil' surprise to find us at his door last Saturday. Since returning from England, I always hope that I could entertain my big family's need as much as I could. Whilst staying farther from them, I learnt that money could never buy the time spend with my big extended family. I also learnt that family must always come first no matter what. Now that I'd returned, I'd like to spend as much time as possible with my only surviving Gramp. (Don't know why every time I speak of him, my eyes would easily fill with tears)

I'd say Gramp's "kenduri" was a success as he managed to gather most of his siblings and their children and grandchildren. He looked so please while he was introducing his grandchildren-in-law; my hubby and Hani's partner, and my "omputih" children. He even told them about his trip with Azhan to see his brother, where Azhan saw a talking bird (wasn't a parrot, just a local one. not sure what it was though). To be honest, I was touched to see my Gramp talked about his grandchildren and great-grandchildren with pride. You could clearly see how happy he was to be surrounded by his big family. My wish is to make my Gramp happy always. I know it hasn't been easy for him after losing his life partner but I bet being around other family members wouldn't only make him feel appreciated, looked up to but also satisfied of knowing that he'd done a fine job at bringing us all up.

I felt good to be around other family members again. I even met with some of whom I haven't seen since I left school. Most of them couldn't recognise me as I'd grown out of my child-like look and become a mother of two boys. Too bad I didn't have my camera with me to capture the moment spent with my extended family. Never mind that, I know for certain that I'll be seeing them again soon at my Tok Su's niece's wedding reception on Boxing Day.

Regret Remorse Sorrow

I can't help feeling regret for returning to my own homeland, to be close to my dearest mummy. I regret coming back to the land I love. True, I could see mummy more often than the last four years but what's the point of returning when my family and me are only treated like slaves. My children are often labelled as stupid by a few of their friends at school for thinking ahead of others with their creative mind. How could a-nine-year-old start diminish others with name-calling? Where did they pick up this horrid habit? Could it be from the television, or their parents who maybe more often than not belittle their own child's talent and wise thinking.

Since my sayang started working for his new employer here, he's never failed to return home later than 8pm. Today, he's still at work despite the clock showing 1.50 am. I could understand the logic of him having to stay back a little later at work as he'll be off from work for about a week for the coming Eid. But don't you think it's a little too late. We'll be heading off to my sayang's parents early tomorrow morning. Does it not occur to her that he'd need the rest for our long journey tomorrow? It's not rocket science, is it? (This post was drafted the night before we departed to Penang)

Before I return here, I said to myself that I'll never ever regret our decision of coming back because this is where we belong. But the longer I spend my time here, I can't help but feel regret of coming home. What kind of home is this? Home to me is where one finds peace, happiness and joy. But I haven't felt those feelings since I arrived. Yes, I was happy the moment my big family was reunited somehow though the longer I reside here, the longer I yearn to go back to our simple life back in Bury. Even my boys are starting to miss Bury. I guess this is the price that we have to pay to be closer to our big family. My only hope is that our homeland would grow into a better country for the sake of our future generations.

A new chapter

September 3rd 2010, marked a new chapter in my life as a wife. The date signifies that I'd spent a third of my life devoting my love for the man I married ten years ago. Sure, our ride towards the 10th year wasn't always dandy. It was sometimes accompanied by turbulent, thunder and horrifying things but somehow or rather with my partner, Fadz's patience's we made it to that magic number 10. All those horrible experiences were not the only thing we shared, but there were beautiful and joyous moments we'd shared too which made us a strong couple. Knowing that Fadz would always be there for me made our journey pleasurable and the pains more endurable.
I was never a good wife. There were even times when I misbehaved or even forgotten my place and here I'd like to apologise openly if I'd broken your heart, brought misery into your life and led you astray. But, believe me dear Fadz, being with you is the best thing that had ever happen to me. Let us now put the past behind and start a new chapter together.

Change; the time is now

12 October was the first day of my boys schooling in Malaysia. They were excited about going back to school after being away from the education institute for nearly four months. Thrilled were they that they woke up as early as 5.30 in the morning.

At quarter to 8, we arrived at their new school. After getting them registered and sending them to their new classrooms, my partner and I drove home before we head back to their school during their recess period to ensure that they'd adjust well to the new environment. The condition of the place where the school children dine really shocked us. I thought to myself, how could the school management let the children dine is such condition. True, from afar the school looks rather brand new and quite clean but when one zooms in and carefully inspects the school especially the canteen, it was quite horrifying. The tables where they put their food were not thoroughly wiped and clean. You could easily spot traces of bird poos, dust and stains on the table top. I'm not surprised if someday one of these kids would come home sick of diarrhoea.

The nightmare was far from over. We then went to observe the food offered for the kids. I have to say I was appalled by the selection of menu. There is nothing nutritious for the kids to opt for. Carbohydrate was the only nutrient contained in all of the food; plain curry noodles with nothing but plain curry, no meat or any other protein source offered here; nasi lemak with a fraction of boiled egg and a slice of cucumber; laksa - well there might be little traces of fish in the gravy, but I doubt they'd cooked it with lots of fish. What about the refreshment? I couldn't find any fruits in the selection let alone hi-cal drinks. Clearly the drinks were just syrup with ice cubes. So, tell me this, what exactly did these kids gain from these selection of food?

I don't mean to gloat or diminish the not-so privileged primary school but shouldn't there be a guideline for food provider at the canteen to adhere to e.g the nutritional ingredients to be included? Back in England, I remember seeing the school dinner menu consisting of all the essential nutrients that children need. In fact, their menu changes on a daily basis. What was served yesterday, wouldn't be served today. That's the way to attract kids to eat good nutritious food, no?

May be it is time for the ministry of education to look into this matter. This is not a political topic but rather an important issue needing urgent solution. How long are we going to jeopardise the well-being of our children for the sake of some political agenda? After all kids are our future leaders. Call me crazy, but I believe that what we feed them today, will determine their future growth and in one way or another influence the fitness of their mind. As goes the saying by Ludwig Feuerbach; (A) Man is what he eats.

Our Bury will always be in Bloom

Hello my fellow audience. I know, I know (as my boy An would say whenever I kept telling him to do things that he’s aware of), it’s nearly centuries I haven’t posted here. Might I add, my penmanship too is getting rusty due to my abandonment.

Let me start off this entry by some flashing news. The author of ‘Bed of Roses’ is back in town! You read it right! After completing nearly four circles of the beautiful four seasons, we decided to head back to our roots; Malaysia, for good. It was not an easy decision to make especially when the kids have adjusted so well to the weather, culture and language there. Plus, my partner and I were very much localised to the little town in northern Manchester. There was nothing to complain about Bury. Famous for its Best Market in Britain, Bury to us is a diamond in the rough.

To those who love the hectic and busy life in the big city, Bury may be the last place they’d want to be. But for me and my husband who are sick of big city life, Bury is the perfect getaway. I could vividly recall our mundane weekend routine. Every Friday afternoon right after work, (I work half-day on Fridays) I’d walk to the retail park near our place which is about 10 minutes on foot for a retail therapy session. I simply love it there. Nearly all of the well-known British high-street labels are offered here. I’d spend a couple of hours going in and out of every single shop lot before I start walking to Morley Street where my boys were schooled. Most of the times, I’d return empty-handed (well not really; I always bought snacks for my kids) but with a lighter head after indulging the view of beautiful garments.

Saturday is my lie in day. I’d wake up as late into the morning as possible. Never managed to be in bed till afternoon tough cause the boys would be in and out of my room until I got out of bed. Most of the times, all the male in the house would shook me off so we could quickly go to the local library which is about 10 minutes walk from our place. Each of my boys would grab 5 books to bring home. Azhan roots for the non-fiction while Nine enjoy story books. Saturday is also the day I’d treat my hubby and kids to special menu such as nasi beriani, tomato or nasi lemak (don’t laugh. It’s quite special here since you can never find makcik nasi lemak in Bury, ever). Later in the afternoon, we’d stroll down the park right across our place. My kids would usually take their bikes and made a few laps round it before they head for the playground. Sometimes they’d play with their friends from school here. Ah, bliss!

At dawn of Sunday, my hubby would hurry off to help his chairman organise the carboot. His chairman is involved with the local athletic club and carboot is one of the activities they organise to raise fund for the club. My kids and I would later join him to see what they have in store and we’d come home with bags of toys. (I always wonder how some of other people’s junk could be treasure for others. I guess each of us value things differently.) Later in the afternoon when my partner returns home, we’d go out for grocery shopping.

We like to take this route cause it always reminds us of the changing season. Changing seasons never fail to amaze me. It doesn’t take a brainer to think that this is all the Almighty’s doing. I thank God for giving me the chance to witness one of His Greatness for nearly four times. It was an opportunity that I will always cherish and remember for the rest of my life. And I really wish that someday He would give me another chance to see and experience it again.

I'm back

Hello peeps! The long awaited d_laDy is back to heal your misery. Check out my latest post later this week. See ya!

God, bless these children of mine for I could no longer...

Death is certain and definite. Every living creature is destined to live and for some unknown period of time will die. I have been taught this since I started schooling. Despite knowing this fact for more than two-third of my life, I still found it hard to accept news of death be it of relatives, friends or acquaintances.

Early this month, I learnt that someone whom I knew from college had passed away after losing her battle to cancer. She was only 30. I found it hard to believe that someone at my age would leave the world so soon. What made it even harder for me to accept was learning that she was married and a mother to three young children. All I could think about when I heard of this was the children’s fate. How would her husband explain to the little ones that their loving mother is no longer there to attain to their needs? I didn’t know her that close, so I could only presume that while she was fighting the decease, she must have at one point talked to her little ones about the uncertain fate awaiting her.

Imagine yourself in her shoes. What would you do when you’re told by your attending doctors of the fatal possibilities in facing this great battle? Would you prepare your loved ones of the worst that might happen? Or would you rather leave in silence? Either way, I bet it’d cause heartache to learn that you’d be leaving behind your loved ones especially the little rascals whom you carried for nine months, and then cared and loved for with your whole heart and never be able to attain to their needs ever again. Even when one is assured that when one dies, one would become the guardian angel looking over the children’s well-being from above; to me this won’t comfort me in any way. It would only make me yearn to hold them in my arms again, caress and sooth them when they are in pain.

I guess what I’m trying to say here is that I love my children even though there are times when they test my patience with their tantrums. This is the unconditional love that a mother has towards her children. For as long as she lives, she’d put her utmost best to protect and shield them against any evil. But somehow along the line, if I were fated to leave the world while my children are still little, I could only pray that the Almighty will bless them with good health, joy and happiness.

2009 - A review

It's time to say good bye yet again to another year. Time seems to slip by without much notice. It passed by so quickly that I'd just realised that I'd spent nearly a third of my life being married to this man who loves me ever so dearly. I was going through the list of posts I'd written ever since I'd set up this blog and had come to realise that the number of posts deteriorated as the blog grew older. I'd been thinking that may be the time has come for this blog to be completely shut down as I no longer have the time to pen down my thoughts. There are so many things running through my head each day as I walk to and fro work and at that moment of time I felt that they should all be put into writings but by the time I had the chance to use the computer, those thoughts had either completely vanished or I'd given a second thought about sharing them with others and decided to bury them in my head instead.
Sometimes I feel I could no longer write as good as I used to. I remember being able to type effortlessly when I first started blogging. May be being in the thirty's category has put me off from expressing myself bluntly without thinking things thoroughly. Is this a sign that I'm getting older? And as one gets and feels older, does it guarantee one to become wiser? I'm not sure if I'm becoming any wiser than I was five years ago, but I'm certain that I'm facing the thirty-something crisis. In less than three weeks I'll be joining the thirty-something club. The more I think of it, the more I feel my dire need of achieving something in my life. I pray and hope that 2010 would be a good turning point in my thirty-plus life.

Friends reunited

Last few days, we had a good old friend of ours over for the Xmas break. She is one of our classmates whom we haven't met for 15 years. She now lives with Zurich, Swiss with her beloved hubby. It was good to finally be reunited with old friends. They bring back all those good old memories we once shared. I remember her very well cause I used to sit next to her when I was in Form 2. Thanks to her my written and spoken English has trumendously improved. I could vividly recall how we used to share our dinner during recess. During our festive season, we'd bring over our delicacies to be shared; I'd brought rendang and pulut for her and she'd gave me a box of mooncake. After two years being good mates, we then moved to different schools and went our separate ways. That was how we lost contact of each other. Who would have thought after 15 years of no news whatsoever, we'd bumped into each other on facebook and finally decided to meet up in Manchester. I look forward to paying her a visit sometimes next year. My dearest friend, it was so good to see you again.

It's Christmas

This is Nine's first entry for the coming festive season. I'm surprised at the age of 6, Nine could write effortlessly. Here's what Nine has written:

http://papan9.blogspot.com/2009/12/its-christmas.html

Thank you, all

Saturday 21st November, has been marked on our calendar as the most historical date of the year. This is the day when two of Papa's artwork together with his fellow artist friends is exhibited to the public of our local township. It also marked Papa's first participation in art event held outside of Malaysia. To some, the event and number of artwork featured may be small in size, but it meant a lot to Papa, me, Azhan and Nine as this is Papa's first baby step towards embarking the world of art.
I'm touched by the support shown by our Malaysian acquaintances here. The fact that they were willing to spend some of their valueable weekend hours with us at the gallery is highly appreciated. I feel indebted to their support. May God bless you all, always

I'm giving up

In the last month I have been actively hunting for work back home. The sudden urgency of wanting to secure a job back home is mainly due to my Mom's health. Ever since my sister told me about Mom's current condition, I feel desperately in need of returning home to tend to my loving mother. Guilt and terrified kept haunting me lately as the word of death is uttered more frequently by my mom. And each time she raises this, I'd hush her and convince her that she'll soon be fine as long as she sticks to the doctor's advice.

This kind of situation sometimes makes me regret of forcing my darling hubby into moving to England. Back then, I thought England would promise a brighter future for us. Wonderful memories of others who'd previously lived in England blinded me into thinking that this island is the best place for us to be. What a dream!

The online job hunting site tells me that all my job applications have been turned down and my CV is apparently being kept for future reference. And I don't how soon that future is. It's quite frustrating that all the efforts put into polishing and updating the CV didn't bear any fruit of success. This frustration is leading me back to my dormant status. To add insult to injury, current working situation gets worse as my colleague starts to dump her work load onto my lap. I empathise her being underpaid and overworked but she should understand that we are in the same boat. My status is no better than hers.

These negative vibes at work and emotional turbulences sometimes really exhaust my inner self. They wear me out that I feel may be I should just give up, leave everything be and let God's fate decides what's best for me.

People matter

I haven't been sewing lately but I'm not slacking either. For the past few weeks, my head have been buried in swamps of books just like my old days back in varsity. There are three main areas that I'm reading on; management, fashion styling, and career development. One book that really strikes my interest is a book called, "Everything I need to know about being a manager, I learned from my kids". As a management graduate blessed with two children, I could easily relate to every story featuring his three young sons. But the most appalling of all I've learnt that every single management don'ts told in this book is by and large put to practice at the organisation I'm working for. Sitting at the bottom level of a hierarchy, has given me the opportunity to observe every single mistake made by the company's top gun.
Watching some of the most educated and experienced people in the business make mistake amazes me sometimes. I guess all those years they'd spent in their own room with a panel window, have somehow made them forgot about the importance of every little person who in the least way have contributed towards the success of the organisation. I'm sure sometimes in their varsity years, they'd been taught that managing a business is really about managing people, and within any organisation the people matter most. Sure, maintaining company's profitability is the utmost importance of all but like it or not every manager must realise that the people are the ones who helped move the company one step towards its ultimate target.

I don't despise the management for treating us as if we're all dispensable but I'm sad that an organisation that boasts on being the nation's pride, is in minimal communication with its people. These silly unnoticeable mistakes mounted up to my patience wearing thinner with every working day that passes by. This unconventional finding however reminded me of the importance of people that were frequently highlighted by my post grad lecturers. I just hope someday I would finally land a managerial post and would be one who looks and treats everyone like VIP regardless of their background.

Why do you want a career as a Retail Manager in the fashion industry

If you were asked the above question at an interview, how would you answer it? I'm in the midst of attempting to draft my answer for the above question. To be honest, I'm having great difficulty in expressing my thoughts on the above. It's not easy claiming to be passionate about something but could hardly describe it in words. Should I begin with how I reacted towards clothes and fashion since I was little and how obsessive I've become ever since? Or should I address the question technically? Leaving job hunting dormant for a couple of years made me realise how formalistic and boring I sound in writing official matters. How do you inject a little taste of your personality into something formal?

Gramp, I love you!

This festive season suddenly reminds me of my poor Gramp back home. Since the passing of my beloved Naan 10 years ago he hasn't remarried and has been living with my uncle. We went up north to visit him during our April holiday back home. I was rather taken aback to see how old he looks. It made me sad seeing his droopy eyes, a sign of loneliness I guess. Through out my adolesence, Gramp is the only grandad I've ever known. You see, my paternal grandad passed away when I was only 2, leaving me with my mom's dad to pass on his wisdom. I was never his favourite grandchild but somehow I grew close to him. I guess my being my late Naan's favourite helped me become close to him. Wherever Naan went, I'd sure tag along and where Naan was, Gramp was always by her side. When Naan died, Gramp was devastated especially learning that she took her last breath in my aunt's arm and not his. The first few years after Naan's passing, Gramp was always in tears everytime he visited her grave.

It's saddening to watch Gramp lives his golden ages without his soulmate. It's more dreadful to learn that he's yearning for the day he'd join his beloved wife. I remember my Mak Long telling me how Gramp requested for Mak Long's husband whom I called Ayah to manage Gramp's funeral. Who'd ever thought that my Ayah would be knocked down by a car, fell into coma for a couple of months and left us without any last word. A couple of years before Ayah's fatal accident, one of Gramp's sons, my Pak Jang passed away after a severe asthma attack. It must have been hard for any father to see his very own son being buried. These sudden deaths in the family must have taken its toll on Gramp.

Lately, I've been thinking of writing to Gramp. I want him to know what he means to me and how grateful I am to be blessed with a grandad like him. I want to thank him for helping me went through my adolescene and telling me his wise words about life. I really want him to learn this before he finally joins my late Naan. Not that I'm wishing for him to die, but at least he'd know that his existence has always meant something to us, his predecessors.

We shared some fond memories, me and Gramp. I could vividly recall those years when I was little, how he had to take me with him and Naan when they went to their farm or even grocery shop. I remember riding his green Vespa and how I'd usually be standing in front of him and holding onto the handle. It was great fun riding with him and Naan. If I could remember correctly there was one time when Gramp took Naan and me to Jitra (about half hour ride from their home). It was raining quite heavily on our way home, Gramp's hands were shaking as we were all drenched from the rain. Soon after, Gramp complaint to Naan that his arms and hands had cramps. Naan then quickly put her hands onto his and gently rub her hands to warm him up hence soothed the pain. Seeing Naan did this, I followed through. As soon as we got home, Naan put Gramp to sleep after having him bathed and taken his medication. That was how affectionate their love was.

I may never fully understand Gramp's loneliness but I bet it must have been hard for one to lose the other half and live one's life alone. True enough that his children and grandchildren could look after him and attend to his needs but I don't think their love would be as affectionate as his other half.

Mood raye

As mentioned in my previous post, tahun ni merupakan tahun ke3 berturut-turut kami berpuasa and beraya dekat negara orang. Honestly, memang tak seronok langsung la sambut raya kat sini maklumla udah le jauh dari mak abah dan keluarga, suasana raya pon tak ade. Even though I'm not as excited as I used to be when I was a kid, rasa ralat la jugak sebab anak-anak tak dapat rasa kemeriahan beraya kat kampung with our big extended family. Sebelum kami berhijrah ke sini, memang la bebudak ni pernah dibawak beraya kat kampung tapi mase tu dorg kecik-kecik lagi. Bukannya faham pon raya tu ape. But as they grow bigger, I'd really much want them to understand the special meaning of Ramadhan and Eid celebration to many of us back home. Especially now that Azhan has started fasting more consistently, I want him to learn the joy that other children back home feel during Iftar and soon to be Eid.

There's a bright sight to this mischief though; I don't have to worry about my children risking their fingers or hand whilst lighting up 'mercun' or 'meriam buluh buatan sendiri'. I don't normally follow the accident caused by 'mercun' statistics for the past two years but I assume with 'mercun' banned from being sold at pasar malam the statistics would have dropped now. Cumenye, when I come to think of it, bebudak ni tak dapat merasa keseronokan helping my uncles lighting up the pelita and bermain bunga api. Kalaulah boleh balik ke zaman kanak-kanak, nak aje aku pergi ke malam sebelum raya kat rumah lama arwah Tok dan Wan. Lepas pasang pelita, pakcik akan bagi kami bunga api. Mercun pulak aku dan sepupu-sepapat cume boleh bakar under pakcik's supervision. Cakap pasal kampong, teringat arwah Tok. Duit raya aku selalu dapat lebih dari cucu lain; cucu kesayangan la katakan. Rasa rindu nak peluk dan cium Tok macam dulu, nak makan ketupat palas pulut hitam Tok, gulai daging special dia, tapi Tuhan lebih sayangkan Tok (al-fatihah untuk Tok yang sudah 10 tahun meninggalkan Wan, anak-anak dan cucu-cucunya).

Another thing that I like about celebrating Eid abroad is not having to buy new 'baju raya' for either my kids, my hubby or myself. I could vividly recall back then when I used to make such a big fuss over not having new 'baju raya'. Sebetulnya baju raya tu bukannya penting sangat pon, boleh dibilang dengan jari berapa kali jer aku pakai kebaya sulam tu. In fact to this very day, baju tu masih nampak baru. Here's something that I as a woman don't quite understand, why is it so important for some to have more than 1 baju raye? My aunt is a dress-maker and she used to tell me that Ramadhan is her busiest time of the year due to the huge volume of baju kurungs she has to make. I remember suggesting her to turn away some of her customers tapi kata dia orang yang menempahnya tak ramai tapi setiap seorang tu tempah lebih dari sepasang. Bila difikir-fikirkan balik logik la dorang tempah banyak sebab kebanyakan depa prefer (ada yang terpaksa) pakai baju kurung ke tempat kerja.

Unlike last year, semangat raya kali ni kurang sikit due to the current economic weather. Bilangan kenalan kat sini pon dah berkurangan sejak ramai terpaksa balik for good. Truth to tell, I'm more worried about my career prospect than anything. Raya this year to me is just another bank holiday marked on the calendar.

Work really really sucks!

Don’t you just hate it when the works you did go unrecognised and unappreciated by your super-superiors? The works of little people like me with not so important job title more often than not weren’t credited for its worthy. I hate being among the little people. All the hard-work I’d put in go unnoticed let alone properly rewarded. Sometimes I feel as though I’m invincible and my existence is worthless to the organisation. I’ve been haunted by this emotion since early this year when I was forced to take on the responsibilities that my previous superior left after being made redundant. Despite the bigger liability, neither have I been fairly compensated nor recognised for contributing towards seamless company operation.

The current working ambience is made worse when a colleague in our department has been ill since April this year yet no replacement has been arranged during her long absence. I’m taken aback to learn that the management is taking her absence lightly simply because she's one of us, the little people. With no replacement, my other colleague and I have to take on her work to keep the department running as per usual. What did we get in return for this? Pay rise; dream on! Not even a single note of thank you came from our super-superior let alone giving us a raise.

Happy 9th Anniversary, Love

3rd September '09 marks our 9th year of togetherness. Fadz and I have been through thick and thin as life partners. I should be thanking him for being kind and patience with me despite my horrible tantrums and nasty, foul mouth. But most of all, I should be thankful to wed a wonderful man who accepts me the way I am inside and out.

p/s: My darling Fadz, please forgive me if I'd mis-treatred you whilst being your wedded partner.