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.

re-fashion for lil' girls

I’ve been keeping myself occupied these past few days with sewing garments for my adorable little nieces. Fadz and I both have younger sisters with two daughters each; making a total of four nieces whom we could cherish and shower with lovely dressy girly stuff as we don’t have daughters of our own. Due to this, I’d usually hunt down girls’ clothes for sales at our local carboot sales so I could have a rough idea on the size of little girls. My aim is to complete at least four sets of outfits, one for each of the girls before the end of Ramadhan and post them home so they could all dressed up for the Eid. At the moment, I've finished sewing a skirt, long-sleeves T, a night dress and sun dress. Here are snippets of the completed ones.

Another summery skirt

Before this year’s summer come to an end, I should showcase this summery skirt I made sometimes in June. It’s actually my first completed sewing project and also my first time refashioning a piece from my wardrobe. It was initially pyjama trousers. I decided to breathe new life into it when I found the material very itchy and scratchy when worn. The silvery glittering thread woven onto the fabric convinced me more that it’d look better in the form of skirt than pants.

Due to the nature of its initial cut, I had to patch the fabric to fill up the length and width needed for a skirt. This was the tricky part, making sure that the pattern on each patch flows seamlessly from one to another. As you can see the shape of the skirt is somewhat assymetrical, a form inspired by a designer's skirt on display at our local fashion outlet. I intentially left the hem undone cause I wanted to create the fringe effect around the edges of the skirt. Despite my satisfaction of how well the skirt turned, I must confess I was at first a little worried of wearing to work and in public.
On the following day, I told my colleague that I'd just finished sewing my very first garment. She somehow managed to talk me into wearing it to work. She quite liked it and her positive reaction boost my confidence in sewing thus, I no longer have the fear of wearing garments that I made to work.

Selamat Menyambut Ramadhan

Tahun ini merupakan tahun ketiga aku berpuasa di perantauan. Tiap kali mengenangkan juadah berpuasa istemewa yang Mak hidangkan, hati pasti rasa sedikit pilu.

Summer skirt

Lately I've been on the look out for a new skirt for this hot flaming summer. I already have a picture of the skirt that I want in my mind. With the sewing machine available at hand, the thought of buying a new one never appeal to me. Instead, I kept thinking of sewing one with my own unique design applied to it. My hunt for some fabrics begun at the nearby car boot sales. I first came across a white beautifully embroidered table cloth. I thought to myself, "Wow, this fabric is perfect as a summer skirt". Other than some patches of stain, the table cloth was in good condition. Overwhelmed by my anxiety for a new summer skirt, I quickly put some bleach to get rid of the stain. I did the silliest thing while washing the cloth, I put in some coloured garments together with the bleached cloth. When the machine was done, I was devastated to find that the colours have run into the cloth. Hence, this project had to be delayed because the material's been ruined.

I was yet again on material hunt at the carboot sales. This time around, I found floral printed white dress which the flower I thought is of similar colour to the table cloth. As soon as I got home, I took out the dress and put the table cloth (I'd alreay cut off the embroidered part) over the dress to see if they look seamless together. The two are of different fabric, one a linen and the other polyester. I then decided these two could not go together.
The following week I came across a tiny white linen tiered skirt. I was more than convinced that I'd finally found the winner. I quickly knew then what to do with them all. At first, I took off the top tier and sewed crochet from the table cloth onto it. I then resewed the tiered back on, and finally the embroidered piece as the last tier. A week after, I decided to restyle the printed white dress into a shirred baby-doll dress. Note: This entry was drafted sometimes in June. Only after wearing these completed projects for a couple of times did I finally manage to snap pictures of them and post them here.

My craving

I felt offended the other day when my other half complaint what a slacker I’ve become and how zero action I’d taken to overcome my laziness. So last night and a few days ago, I thought that I’d prove him wrong by taking on one sewing project. It didn’t take long before the slacker in me conquered my sensibleness especially learning how complicated the project was.Finding myself bored, I decided to bake a chocolate cake. It’s been a while since the last time I baked one. Eventhough my hubby and I haven’t had a daughter, my little rascals are always more than willing to lend a hand when it comes to baking. After half an hour of mixing and stirring plus another one hour of waiting for it to bake, it was ready to be indulged.

a slacker

I must confess that I've been such a slacker for the past couple of weeks. I haven't done any sewing or update this blog with any recent posts for that matter. I've been doing nothing but indulging myself by watching a lot of movies. I'm not quite sure what's wrong with me. One minute I'm worried sick about my career progress but by the next minute my eyes would be hooked onto the telly screen watching one programme after another. Even if there's nothing good to watch, I'd find some oldies from my collection to keep me occupy. I think I'm yet on the verge of a break down.
Do you ever get that feeling when you want to move forward but current circumstance doesnt permit the chance to do so? Well, that's exactly how I feel at this very moment. It feels as though there are so many things that I want to do and my head is bursting with ideas unfortunately there's no platform for me to realise any of them. Argh!

Craft for the lil' ones

Last night I decided to sew something other than garment. Since day 1 of having my own sewing machine at home, I've been sewing nothing but my own garments. As I was flipping through the pages of my Reader's Digest sewing guide, I came upon a page on sewing projects for friends and family. My eyes were drawn to a simple shoulder bag shown and I remembered how my Nine has been begging for similar bag. I happen to keep one of Nine's jeans when he was smaller. Previously I thought of refashioning it into a skirt for my niece but after reading the guide to making the shoulder bag, I decided the jeans is perfect material for Nine's shoulder bag.

The guide said I'll need to cut four 12x14 cm rectangles but when I take this measurement against my little boy's body, I thought it'd be too big for him. After removing all seams, I then cut the jeans into A4 paper size. As I sewed two of the four rectangles, it struck me that the bag is going to be thick and chunky. Instead of using all four rectangles to make a bag, I used all four to sew two bags. One for little Nine and the other for my eldest, Azhan. It took me less than a day to sew them all as I skipped all the detailing of the bags. I know that the bag is very superb in design and very simple indeed but my Nine really loves the bag that he straight away uses it as soon as I sewed the last seam.

My Little Black and Grey Dress

In the last couple of posts, I've been boasting about my new found pastime yet not once have I uploaded snapshots of the finished projects. Well in this post I'll be featuring my first garment making project. It's not really garment making cause the material used was originally a skirt I got from my BFF who lost 20 kgs and could no longer fit it. What made me hooked on to the skirt is the material and simple embroidery sewn on it. Because of my teeny size, I couldn't straight away put it on. I'd have to alter it so I could fit the skirt. It struck me then that to alter such beautiful fabric would mean cutting off a lot of it and the ones cut off would be of no use later. I then decided that maybe the best way to go about it, is refashioning it from a skirt to a short dress.

Before the sewing commenced, I'd never thought of the obstacles and challenges that I'd come across. Quite honestly I've always thought that garment making is easy cause I used to watch my aunt sew garments effortlessly. Thus, convincing me that sewing is easy and straight forward and everybody could sew given time to try a little bit of sewing. This project proves me wrong. Sewing I think is a skill that you develop overtime and demands a lot of patience.


It took me a good four months to finally complete this simple dress. It's such a long period ain't it to sew a dress? The long period is due to me putting off the project and moving on to work with other simple material like cotton and linen. There's nobody to blame other than myself. As a beginner I shouldn't have opted for this velvety fabric for it easily frayed no matter what you do to make it stay. There was a point when I nearly gave up working on it because of the countless re-sewing, re-cutting, re-seaming that had to been done. I only resume working on this dress a month ago when I realise that this beautiful fabric deserves better treatment than abandonment.