Aisatsu

Assalamualaikum
Konnichiwa
Hello

All of the above are words used to greet - in the case of salam, it goes further to be a prayer for the receiver. When I was in Japan, there was an emphasis on aisatsu (greetings). Classmates loudly greet "ohayo!" as they fill in the classroom. Neighbours smile and say "konnichiwa" as we briefly pass each other on the corridor. Customers are welcomed with loud "irrashaimase" every time we enter a shop or restaurant.  

Now that I'm back in Malaysia, I can honestly say that one of the things I miss a lot was the cheerful greeting. It's just not in our culture that somebody will quickly and cheerfully greet "selamat datang" as we enter a shop or restaurant (at times, it might take ages just to wait for somebody to bring the menu to our table).

It's a culture for teachers in Japan to meet and greet the students at the school gate. I remember reading a Japanese board book to Huzaifah on going to the kindergarten which ended with the kid in the book happily greeted his smiling teacher "Ohayo Gozaimas" at the kindy's gate.

Now I've heard of a new circular asking teachers in Malaysia to do the same, among other things listed as 'amalan guru penyayang". Which I personally think is great, but unfortunately, based on some postings on blogs and FB, many Malaysian teachers feel as 'melampau'.

What puzzled me more is that some teachers even went further to claim that it's because they love the students that they scream, punish, pinch the students. And now they are being asked to greet the students, to wish happy birthday, to straighten the students' neck tie, help closing a missed button hole and other 'unimaginable' things spelled out in the loving teacher circular.

Well, I don't know about others - I personally don't mind a teacher correcting my son at school by handing out appropriate punishment. But I also don't expect a teacher claiming that the way for them to show love for the school children is by screaming at them, punishing them, pinching them, all in the name of educating the kids and stop at that. Where's the warmth of a teacher? What is wrong with greeting the students at the gate? Why should it be considered 'melampau' to wish the kids happy birthday? What is wrong with teachers smiling warmly and openly at the students?

One of the things I'd always enjoyed witnessing in Japan was watching teachers walking with their young students in parks. The students would take turn asking the teachers this-and-that questions which would be patiently answered by the teachers. Anyone could witness the atmosphere of warmth and friendliness, the obvious camaraderie among them. Something that I've yet to witness in a Malaysian government school.

I think we should go back to basic in dealing with kids. Children learn what they live - chances are a child who often gets a gentle touch and smiles would grow up to be different than a child who always get screamed at and stern looks all the time. The adult actions give a massive impact to the brain development of the child, that's why we have been reminded that it's up to the parents to determine the "colours" of their children who had been born a "clean white sheet".


I feel it's a pity that teachers are feeling burdened by being asked to execute the 'loving teacher circular'. Teachers all over the world are doing exactly what is being spelled out in the circular voluntarily. Parents who send their children to public schools in Japan, Australia, UK (to name a few) would be able to confirm that  yes, their children are met and greeted daily at the school gate, that kids get to celebrate their birthday in school with their classmates during monthly parties, that teachers become not only their coach, mentor, counsellor, but also to an extent, the children's friend. 

It might all started with just a warm, friendly greeting, but in the long term, it might be valued more than we realize. It might be just easier to persuade kids to love going to school from a young age because they feel really welcomed and appreciated at school. Oh, and while at that - every smile that accompany a teacher's greeting in the morning could  be one of his/her earliest sadaqah of the day. And as sadaqah, it means a smile would never be in vain even if it returned by a sulk or surly look...

Life is like that

You know how sometimes Allah send your way a person or another, who will share with you stories that they themselves experienced or people close to them had experienced...


The kind of stories that touch you, make you feel really 'insaf' and serve as a reminder to you on how lucky and blessed you really are.

Well, I'll share two stories that I've heard today.

*****
1. The boy is an 8-year old sex addict. 8 year old. E.I.G.H.T.
He was born out of wedlock to a prostitute mother and a father who holds a supposed-to-be-respectful job. He was 'handed over' to the wife of his father, who became his real mother. The one who actually love, shelter, guide and watch over him. The one who seeks help here and there and everywhere, searching for a cure, a remedy for this particular 'son' of hers. No, he never actually bed any girl yet - but he masturbates a lot.
Put him in a room with pillows and bolsters - chances are there will be holes in them the next morning.
Give him toys - and he will imagine an 18SX drama out for the toys.
He asks peculiar questions - questions usually unimaginable to be coming from a supposed-to-be innocent 8 year old.
The 'mother' had taken him to see counsellors, therapists, psychiatrists but to no avail. As yet.

And I thought 8 year-old boys are supposed to be mad about Ben 10, crazy about bikes and the likes?

*****

2. The boy's 'mother' is one very strong woman.
The husband hasn't been home in 15 years. 15 years!
During these fifteen years, he had been sowing his wild oats about, resulting with him fathering 15 kids with different women.
These women in turn, had lodged these kids at the man's house - to his one and only legally wedded wife.
The wife never send any of these 15 kids away.
She took them in, provide love, care, shelter, food, guidance to them.
And what does she do for a living?
Sells nasi lemak.
A nasi lemak seller in a rural area.
For fifteen years, the husband never send a single sen to support her and his children out of wedlock.
For fifteen years, she has been taking care of 15 kids that have no blood relations to her.
All out of her own sweat.
When she took the above-mentioned boy for treatments here and there, she came across some very helpful persons. They guided her and provided assistance for her to claim her rights. From them, she learned how to get the court to order monthly cut from the husband's salary for spousal and children support. Alhamdulillah, she finally succeeded in her bid to get the spousal and children support through forced cut on the husband's salary.
The husband still has not returned home, but at least now she's getting about RM1000 a month out of his salary.
"Alhamdulillah, lepaslah buat bayar duit installment kereta dengan buat modal. Boleh berniaga banyak sikit nasi lemak"

*****

It's stories like these that make me put things in perspective...
And be really grateful that my life is not bad.
Not bad at all.
Syukur, alhamdulillah.

Just a little note

Reading this entry, prompted me to re-post part of a tag I did for Kak D  back in 2008. I'm not sure whether or not Mak has read the entry on Islam Inspires Meme, so this is just a little note to let Mak know, just in case she has doubts...

"4) Who is the most inspiring Muslim woman to you and why?

Sharing the sentiment with Kak D and Nadia, for all the reasons that they had already stated in their respective blogs, I agree that Saidatina Khadijah is the most inspiring Muslimah. Thus, I'll take this question as "Other than Saidatina Khadijah - who is the most inspiring Muslimah to you and why? "

There are so many prominent figures to choose from - Saidatina Aisyah, Saidatina Fatimah, Rabiatul Adawiyah, Zainab al-Ghazali.... but I'll go with someone close to me - my Mak.

Mak gives her all to support Ayah all the way.
Mak gave her best in attending to both her late mother and mother-in-law.
Mak gives her best for her siblings even when it is not reciprocal.
Mak gives her best for her kids even when we broke her heart time and time again, and even when we know she gives more selflessly and generously than our own biological mother.
Mak gave her best to the rakyat when she was a civil servant - never afraid of any political master, not even when she was demoted of sort.
Mak is still giving her best to the society by voluntary works.
Mak gives her best to Allah by giving her all"

Meeting the Dean

* Many years ago, when I was a second year Law student in Leeds University, I received a letter requesting me to meet the Dean of the Faculty of Law. I procrastinated for as long as possible - two weeks - before finally meeting him. I was reminded of how different Mr Brownlee was from the person I first imagined him to be when I read my old journal. I thought Dr Brownlee the Dean would be a 'mean old beardy man', yet the person I met was quite young, handsome in a 'bookish' way many professors are, with thick brown hair and beard and surprise,surprise a very easy man to talk to. 

Here's an excerpt from my journal, dated May 21, 1997.

"How do one prepare to meet a Dean? I didn't do any preparation. Only that I expected some grumbles and gruffles from a mean old beardy man. Oh my - I only got the beardy part correct - the rest can really be disputed.

He started with the usual stuff -  why am I so late in responding to the letter, why am I not making the most of the faculty's teaching facility and what nots. He sternly told me that should I fail to see him, he would've written a letter to the Exams Syndicate, asking them to de-bar  me from the exams. Alhamdulillah , I am thankful and grateful that Allah made me see him then.

I felt lousy upon entering his room, but I definitely felt better went upon exiting. Not necessarily feeling good, but at least not as lousy as when I first entered the room. Well, I guess BT is right - it's definitely good to talk (Note: "It's good to talk" used to be British Telecom's tagline)

I don't remember how exactly it started. One moment Dr Brownlee made a remark on how unhappy I seemed and the next thing I knew I took his advice to spill it out. That I did.

I went on and on. Telling him how I despise law, how I hate law, how each time I open law books I would only shut them back because I couldn't stand them. How I always went blank for a few minutes whenever I faced law questions, suspecting that I have a mental block of sort against law.

I bared to him how painful it is to do something that you hate and yet you just have to do it because you don't have much choice. There's your deal with your parents - to study law in UK. Your obligations to the sponsor. Your responsibility as the eldest in the family, especially not to upset your parents again what with your brother did just that by dropping out. Your obligations towards your people, your country, your brothers and sisters in Islam to uphold their good names.

And how sometimes it hurt so deeply because not many are ready to listen when I pleaded them to. They  persuaded me to go on, not to quit - but they never really understand me. And most of all, how conflicted I felt in all this.

"Ooh... you are in the wrong course, aren't you?"
How true.

Unlike a trained counsellor, Dr Brownlee didn't just listen and analyze things. He did a big no-no for a counsellor - he advised me.

Told me to pull myself through if I wanted to go on with the course - and it seemed that I have to. So I have to make the most of what's availabe to help myself out. It would be a pity to drop out in a course when one's already two third of the way.

Then he told me that law was also not his first choice. Had he been given a choice to re-do it, he'd taken up History instead. But he went on with his headmaster's wish and he pulled through. He'd forgotten all about how it hurt then.

"Twelve months come and they go. They really go. When it's all over, you'll forget this bitter part..."

He said, if I could've pulled through until this stage, he was sure that I could make it to the end. I just have to start opening those books (which are sitting like ornaments on my desk) and work hard again. That's the price I have to pay, at least for the time being.

He recommended me to talk to a counsellor at the University Student Counselling Service - and he personally recommended me to see a Ms Marian Sedley.

"No magic solutions, but she might help you to consider the options you have now"
I took the USCS brochure he offered and agreed to go see a counsellor. He also offered to talk to Mr Passey (my personal tutor) on my behalf, to explain the difficulty I'm having right now in doing law.

Dr Brownlee is indeed a nice bloke - notwithstanding his brown beard and stern looking face. I actually cried when I talked to him - the tears just went gushing down. A bit embarrassing really, but sometimes it's good to cry too...I never realised until then, how talking to someone on the faculty could actually help."

* He was right - Twelve months came and went. They really went. But I never forget 'that bitter part'. Not really. Alhamdulillah - it had only helped to make me a 'stronger' person. At least I managed to graduate with honours. So Mak really should not be comparing me getting a 2nd Class lower  with her also getting a 2nd Class lower despite the huge differences in our SPM results (her a 2nd grader and me a single digit aggregate). He he he.   

The Gift of a Smile

While McDonald's is no longer my usual hang-out place (unlike when I first started working in 1999 when I used to go to McD at least once in 2 weeks), I decided to have a Cheeseburger Happy Meal (the free toy for my son) while waiting for hubby last Sunday. He was attending to some business matter at Amcorp Tower while I had just finished book shopping at Big Bad Wolf Book Sale (it had gone down to RM5 a book today, the last day of the Sale).

Written on the pamhplet/tray cover was some brief information of Ronald McDonald House Charities (RHMC) Malaysia.

"200 smiles restored"

I was curious and read more for further explanation. Turned out that RMHC Malaysia runs the Gift of Smile Campaign for children born with cleft lip and palate defects, enabling the children to undergo corrective surgery at No Costs to the parents. I immediately picked up two application forms at the Information Counter.

There's a male clerk in the office whose baby girl was born with cleft lip. I didn't know about the baby's condition until we visited his house during Raya. She looked so fragile, all bundled in white in her playpen with her cleft lip, with her still-in-confinement mother looking at her, smiling at the guests yet trying to hold back some tears. It was heartbreaking. I wanted to hug the mother, but at that time I had to keep chasing after Huzaifah and Humaidi who were delighted in finding new spots to explore.

Since then I've been asking about baby Afina's development from time to time. Hairi confessed that back then his daughter was too young to undergo a corrective surgery but he had been assured that the doctors in Hospital Serdang, where she was born, would try to fix her condition once she reaches 3 months old.

I asked him about the cost.

He said that it was never really discussed with the doctors, so he suspects that they will first use the Guarantee Letter from the office - with him being a government servant and his daughter being treated in a government hospital - and he will pay for the cost by monthly deductions from his salary amounting the total cost.

So, yesterday, I went to his desk and handed over the application forms for Gift of Smile campaign, "I don't know if you had heard of this, but I saw this yesterday and I immediately thought of you"

"What is this Puan?"

I briefly explained what little I knew and recommended for him to try applying for it. He quickly scanned through the form. "But Puan, it's stated here that priority is given to families with household income of RM2,000 and below..."

"What's your household income, then?" I know that his wife is also a support staff, working for a government agency.

"A little bit over RM2,000"

"Just give it a try then. You never know if this is your daughter's rezeki"

"But Hospital Serdang had already set 29 January (2010) for my daughter's surgery"

"What's the cost then?"

"Hmm, I'm not sure. I was under the impression that I'll get monthly deductions from my salary after the operation is over"

This program is in partnership with ING Insurance and Pantai Hospital, so my guess is, the successful applicants would be treated at any of the Pantai Hospitals.

"If I were you, I would give it a shot. For one, if you got it, it's free. That means no deduction from your salary. You could instead use that portion of your salary to save for your daughter's education insurance or something..."

"Hmmm..."

"Try istikharah then. Ask for Allah's guidance. The surgery is set in late January - so you still have about 2 months from now..."

"Okay, I'll think about it"

They said that in Malaysia alone, 1 out of 600 babies is born with a cleft lip and palate. Out of the 570,000 babies born in this country, about 950 new cases are found each year. Corrective surgery for those born with cleft lip and defective palate are not cosmetic surgery. Chances are, if left untreated, a child born with cleft lip and palate would suffer from low self-esteem may experience breathing difficulties, speech and hearing problems, trouble in swallowing food and drinks, and facial growth impairments. Yet, in the first place, cleft lip and palate can easily be rectified with proper corrective surgery...

Here's praying for little baby Afina to have her smile restored again - with or without RHMC "The Gift of Smile Campaign" aid - insya Allah...

Mak pesan... 1

Mak selalu pesan,

"Belajar agama biar masa muda. Bila kita tahu, boleh amalkan apa yang kita tahu, boleh manfaatkan diri, boleh manfaatkan orang lain. Yelah, sementara kita masih kerja, masih kuat tenaga, yang sedikit kita tahu boleh cambahkan pada banyak orang yang kita jumpa, yang kita kenal dalam kerja. Kalau belajar agama bila dah tua, dah pencen, biasanya untuk manfaat diri sendiri. Tapi kita hidup bukan untuk jaga diri sendiri saja. Ada habluminallah, ada habluminannas..."

Virtually emptying his account...

Mohammad, 38, runs an Asian grocery store in Tsunashima, Yokohama. The Sri Lankan had 520,000 yen in savings, and was thinking of donating 300,000 yen towards the purchase of the mosque. He changed his mind and donated 500,000 yen, virtually emptying his account.

He says: "When you make a contribution to a mosque, God prepares a house for you in heaven. It's thanks to God that I've been able to make my way in Japan up to now. And God will continue to help me in future."

Full story here

Masya Allah...

Random compliment

Conversation with a Caucasian guy in shorts and t-shirt I met briefly in the elevator :

Stranger: Are you from Malaysia?
Me: (startled) Yes, I am from Malaysia. Where are you from?
Stranger: I’m from California. I’ve been to Malaysia recently. I can tell that you are one from your nice headscarf.
Me: Yes, there are a lot of Malaysian women wearing headscarves.
Stranger: They are really pretty. I really like ‘em. I even bought some for my wife
Tink! (the door opened at ground floor)
Stranger: (as he moved out of the elevator) Well, see you around. Have a nice day.
Me: You too, have a nice day.

It is nice to get a random compliment. And nicer when you know that the compliment comes with no alter intentions. Even though it was just my scarf that got complimented on, it managed to get me smiling for some time as I paced the 10-minutes walk to the eki.

Of course, I didn’t confess that the particular scarf was actually bought in Salzburg, Austria, one hot summer, exactly 10 years ago...

Bag of Potatoes

Found this one as I was browsing through old e-mails and thought it's worth sharing...

"One of my teachers had each one of us
bring a clear plastic bag and a
sack of potatoes. For every person we'd
refuse to forgive in our life, we
were told to choose a potato, write on it
the name and date, and put it in
the plastic bag. Some of our bags, as you
can imagine, were quite heavy.

We were then told to carry this bag with
us everywhere for one week,
putting it beside our bed at night, on
the car seat when driving, next
to our desk at work.

The hassle of lugging this around with us
made it clear what a weight we
were carrying spiritually, and how we had
to pay attention to it all the
time to not forget, and keep leaving
it in embarrassing places.

Naturally, the condition of the potatoes
deteriorated to a nasty slime. This
was a great metaphor for the price we pay
for keeping our pain and heavy
negativity.

Too often we think of forgiveness as a
gift to the other person, and
while that's true, it clearly is also a
gift for ourselves. "

-Author Unknown

Women are like apples on a tree

Yet another lame e-mail spin- off entry. Jaja, this one is especially for you.

Women are like apples on a tree.

The best ones are at the top of the tree. Most men don't want to reach for the good ones because they are afraid of falling and getting hurt. Instead, they just get the rotten apples from the ground that aren't as good, but easy...

So the apples at the top think something is wrong with them, when in reality, they're amazing. They just have to wait for the right person to come along, the one who's brave enough to climb all the way to the top of the tree.

Isn't that a blessing?

Dear Kakaq and Ahkak,

Went to UniQlo last week and one nice olive fitting t-shirt in the sale bin caught my attention. Its caption reads:

“I have a glorious life. I can do anything I want, go
where I want, be alone if I want, travel if I want
and sometimes I don’t want anything
Now isn’t that a blessing?”

I found it kawaii just like the two prayers.

While I know it doesn’t apply to me anymore (what with a 10-month-old baby who is going through a rather critical stage of separation anxiety – nak pergi tandas pun punyalah susah),
I bought it anyway.

Getting to know the cleaner

A couple of weeks ago, the regular lady cleaner in the office was not around. There was another girl instead, so I asked her the whereabouts of our regular cleaner. Apparently she was away on high fever, and as the doctor suspected that it could be dengue, she had to stay at home for a while until she was given the ‘clear’ sign from the doctor. The stand-in was a relative of hers and in daily contact with her, so I conveyed my sympathy and salam to the regular cleaner via the stand-in.

When the regular cleaner returned, I asked her how things were. She thanked me for my concern and my salam. I wondered aloud – how did she know it was me?

“Akak sorang je yang tahu nama Ju. Orang lain panggil ‘adik’ je”

I was… surprised. All these while, she works exclusively on this level and I am the only one who has been calling her by her given name?

#####

I think most of us have read that oft-forwarded email about how one lecturer quizzed his medical students on the cleaner’s name. When most (or was it none?) of his students could not answer the question, he talked about how important it is to establish contact with people around us because we need to show we care, or something to that effect. The students later learned (and could never forget) that the lady cleaner’s name was Daisy.

Learning from that email, I made it a point to get to know the cleaner’s name wherever I work. There’s Kak Peah back in Serdang. Then, there’s Kak Ros in Wisma Damansara and now Ju in Putrajaya.

Apart from thanking them for emptying my waste bin or vacuuming my room or wiping my desk or spraying the phone, I sometimes chatted with them. Kak Peah shared her stories about keeping the family together and her business as a nasi lemak seller and a small stallholder at the local pasar malam. Kak Ros also talked about her family as well as her decision to wear tudung and all. I remember presenting a few tudung to her when she began to wear tudung and how profusely she thanked me. Ju is still young, but has two children to support so both she and her husband are working hard, plus looking for side income, such as making profits from selling used paper and all.

What are the points in chatting with the cleaners?
From them, I learn much about perseverance, persistence, patience, coping with difficulties and being grateful for Allah’s many blessings.

Besides, chatting with them, asking how things are, show that I care for them and about them. I know they appreciate it. Perhaps just as much as I appreciated officers stopping to make small talks to me back in the old university days when I worked part-time as a cleaner at a call centre in Leeds.

As I emptied waste bins, or wiping a desk or two or crushing Styrofoam cups to be recycled, one or two officers would stop to chat on this and that. The weather, the latest book I was reading, the latest movie, the recent football match, and so on and so forth. Sometimes I simply listened to their rants and ramblings on particular difficult customers they had to deal with over the phone. At other times, one or two would bombard me with lots of questions regarding Malaysia, Kuala Lumpur and south east Asia in general. While I found some questions to be rather amusing, it was almost always a pleasure to be chatted up. As it showed that they care – or at least some of them did. I appreciated it.

Just as I hope my cleaner appreciate my effort now.

Two Prayers

Promise me that nobody will take this too seriously, okay...
This one goes especially to my dear ahkak and kakaq... ;-p

=====
1. The Senility Prayer

God grant me the senility to forget the people I never liked anyway,
the good fortune to run into the ones that I do,
and the eyesight to tell the difference.

2. Prayer for Ladies

God, I pray for
wisdom, to understand a man;
love, to forgive him;
patience, for his moods;
Because God, if I pray for strength,
I'll just beat him to death.

Who really makes a difference in our lives?

Another forwarded e-mail to think about - really...

=====

Name the five wealthiest people in the world.
Name the last five Heisemann trophy winners.
Name the last five winners of the Miss World contest.
Name ten people who have won the Nobel or Pulitzer prize.
Name the last half dozen Academy Award winners for best actor or actress.

How did you do?

The point is, none of us remember the headliners of yesterday. These are no second-rate achievers. They are the best in their fields. But the applause dies. Awards tarnish. Achievements are forgotten. Accolades and certificates are buried with their owners.

Here's another quiz. See how you do on this one:

List a few teachers who aided your journey through school.
Name three friends who have helped you through a difficult time.
Name five people who have taught you something worthwhile.
Think of a few people who have made you feel appreciated and special.
Think of five people you enjoy spending time with.
Name half a dozen heroes whose stories have inspired you.

Easier?

The lesson?

The people who make a difference in your life are not the ones with the most credentials, the most money, or the most awards.

They are the ones who care.

Ice Cream for the Soul

A little ice cream is good for the soul sometimes - provided one doesn't suffer from diabetes or tooth ache ;-)

=====
Last week I took my children to a restaurant. My six-year-old son asked if he could say grace. As we bowed our heads he said, "God is good. God is great. Thank you for the food, and I would even thank you more if Mom gets us ice cream for dessert. And liberty and justice for all! Amen!"

Along with the laughter from the other customers nearby, I heard a woman remark, "That's what's wrong with this country. Kids today don't even know how to pray. Asking God for ice cream! Why, I never!"

Hearing this, my son burst into tears and asked me, "Did I do it wrong? Is God mad at me?"
As I held him and assured him that he had done a terrific job and God was certainly not mad at him, an elderly gentleman approached the table. He winked at my son and said, "I happen to know that God thought that was a great prayer."

"Really?" my son asked.

"Cross my heart." Then in theatrical whisper he added, indicating the woman whose remark had started this whole thing, "Too bad she never asks God for ice cream. A little ice cream is good for the soul sometimes."

Naturally, I bought my kids ice cream at the end of the meal. My son stared at his for a moment and then did something I will remember the rest of my life.

He picked up his sundae and without a word walked over and placed it in front of the woman. With a big smile he told her, "Here, this is for you. Ice cream is good for the soul sometimes, and my soul is good already."

- Anonymous

Thinking Outside the Box

Here's a classic e-mail that I've enjoyed reading a few years ago - and enjoyed re-reading recently.

A Thinking Test

You are driving along on a wild, stormy night. You pass by a bus stop, and you see three people waiting for the bus:

1. An old lady who is sick and about to die.

2. An old friend who once saved your life.

3. The perfect man or woman you have been dreaming about.

Which one would you choose to pick up, knowing that there could only be one passenger in your car? This is a moral/ethical dilemma that was once actually used as part of a job application. You could pick up the old lady because she needs to get to a hospital right away; or you could take the old friend because he/she once saved your life, and this would be the perfect chance to pay him/her back. However, you may never be able to find your perfect dream lover again.

The candidate who was hired (out of 200 applicants) had no trouble coming up with his answer. He simply answered: "I would give the car keys to my old friend, and let him take the lady to the hospital. I would stay behind and wait for the bus with the woman of my dreams."

Sometimes, we gain more if we are able to give up our stubborn thought limitations and think outside the box.

Moral: You are not always the victim in life; most of the time you are the victor looking at the situation from the wrong view! The view is yours to choose.

- Author Unknown

Annual Telekung Laundry Service

This year, like the past three years since I started joining this particular Ministry, I had been asked (again) to assist in organising the Malaysia ICT Week (an effort started as Asean Communications and Multimedia Expo – but had been upgraded to Malaysia ICT Week in 2002 as it began to comprise more ICT related events and exhibitions)

Like the past few years, the main event had once again been held in an international exhibition and convention centre in Seri Kembangan. Like the past few years, many junior officers had to be in attendance at the exhibition centre from morning till night on the day before the Official Opening Ceremony and all day long in the exhibition centre on the actual opening day. Like the past few years, we all had to make use of the small and stuffy surau at the end corner of the second floor.

“Kau bawak balik basuh la telekung-telekung ni A.Z. Aku rasa memang orang sini tak basuh – cuma kau je yang basuh setahun sekali, “ Sal suggested.

I took five pairs of telekung back home last year – bleached them, washed them with hot water, treated them with extra softener, got them nicely pressed and returned them back to the surau on the following day. I did exactly the same thing this year – that night when we had to be there for the rehearsal and last minute preparation, I brought back five pairs of telekung home to be ‘serviced’ accordingly.

A friend called as I was about to soak and bleach the not-so-white and stained telekungs. I told him what I was doing and his response was, “aikk, buka kedai dobi pulak ke?”

I know many would have thought what I did was just a bit strange. I know it’s quite unusual to find somebody taking back some telekungs from a public surau just to get them cleaned and pressed and brought them back to the surau the next day. It’s none of my responsibility and people would have thought that it would be the exhibition centre’s duty to keep the telekung clean.

Perhaps, I’ve read too many Chicken Soup books and was simply inspired by some stories which encouraged me to do some free ‘khidmat masyarakat’. Perhaps I just felt like it won’t cost me much to get the telekung cleaned but thought that clean telekung could make a lot of difference for the small-and-stuffy public surau users. Perhaps I was hoping that my little deed would in turn encourage my colleagues to carry out similar deed elsewhere.

Or perhaps I was merely seeking the satisfaction of hearing one surau user making an innocent remark to her friend (who obviously had no idea about my labour the previous night) “Bersih kan telekung kat sini, bukan senang nak jumpa telekung bersih kat surau awam”.

If only they have seen how filthy the soaked water was…

Life is too short to be little

"Often we allow ourselves to be upset by small things that we should forget about at once. Perhaps someone we helped has proven ungrateful, someone we believed to be a friend has spoken ill of us, some regard we thought we deserved has been denied to us.

We feel such disappointment so strongly that we can no longer work, or even sleep.

We lose many irreplaceable hours brooding over grievances that in a year's time will be forgotten by us and everybody else. Let us devote our lives to worthwhile feelings and actions, to great thoughts, real affections and enduring actions for others. Life is too short to be little."

- Andre Maurois as printed in Soundings.

A Mother-in-Law, A Daughter-in-Law and A Supermarket

I read this story in "Strange But True: A True Life Japanese Reader" this morning as I waited for all routines completed/test results for my medical check-up. (Yup, the medical-check up I need to undergo as required by the Japanese Embassy for my Mambusho's scholarship...) I thought this one worth a re-told in my blog.

So, here goes:

It was midday during a dry spell in the rainy season when F, 61 came from Zushi to visit the home of her daughter-in-law S, 31, in Setagaya. "Since I'd already come as far as Shibuya, I just dropped by to see my grandchild"

For S, her mother-in-law was more frightening than a demon. S did everything she could to be a good hostess for F. Later, her mother-in-law took S's daughter for a walk.

S breathed a sigh of relief. As she relaxed, S felt hungry, and her eyes suddenly came to rest upon a bag of doughnuts that her mother-in-law had bought at K-nokuniya, a luxury supermarket nearby. F had said that she was going to take the doughnuts home tu Zushi.

S thought at first, "I really shouldn't touch them." But hunger is stronger than reason. She opened the bag and found six doughnuts inside.

"Maybe she won't notice if I eat only one," S thought. She hurriedly ate a doughnut and carefully reclosed the package.

F returned from her walk none the wiser. Quite satisfied with herself, she left for home, carrying the bag of doughnuts.

But sure enough, when F returned to Zushi, she noticed one doughnut was missing. That's when the trouble started.

"I can't believe that, of all the stores in Japan, K-nokuniya would make such a mistake!" F immediately called K-nokuniya to complain. The call dragged on for 30 minutes. F was too much for the person in charge at K-nokuniya.

The first thing the next morning, clutching a single 80-yen doughnut as if their lives depended on it, the sales clerk and the floor supervisor came to F's home to apologize. One way, it had taken them more than 2 hours. When asked, the sales clerk said she had left home at 5 o'clock that morning.

F was greatly impressed. "That's K-nokuniya for you!" she said.

She spread the story around to her friends and S. Of course when S heard what had happened, her face turned deathly pale.

She has firmly resolved to take the secret to her grave.

- Original Japanese selection from "Dekigotology' by Shukan Asahi © Asahi Shimbunsha

When was the last time you hugged Life?

Another e-mail-I-thought-worth-sharing entry. Enjoy!

It was in the dairy barn where I found my oasis during this Bloomsburg Fair. I so admire the young folks who tend to farm animals. I think they have a greater appreciation for life. They participate in it firsthand. I've watched a young boy help bring a calf into the world and I have seen a young girl walk her prize cow through the line of animals for sale, knowing that her job is done and it's time for it to leave home. It must be difficult.

My favorite scene is to come across a young person lying in the hay asleep among the cows that have settled down for a rest. There, with their heads nestled in a small soft spot along side their favorite cow, I have seen them in a much deserved sleep. Perhaps better at rest there than in their own bed.

I had the pleasure of speaking with a young teenage farm girl at rest today.

"You look so comfortable," I said to her.

"Oh I am," she said. "Life makes it comfortable for me."

"You mean being a farm girl?"

"No, Life! That's the name of my cow," she said smiling as she stroked the cows side.

"I thought they called cows Betsy and Elsie. Why did you call her Life?"

"I discovered life again here. It was the only sensible name that came to mind," she said. "I had been raised in the big city and reallyhated it. Then we moved to the country. Kinda running away from it all.I think my parents called it a mid-life crisis," she said laughing.

"Boy, I can relate to that. I've been in one since birth," I said.

"It was on the farm that I learned to love life again. I was there when Life was born. It was so exciting. My whole outlook on the world changed. So I named her Life. Now, I can say I really love "Life," she said.

"How incredible. You know I write stories and I am always trying to get people to embrace life. To wake up each day expecting the best from it. But they all too often go to bed with so much bad stuff in their soul,and on their mind, that they wake up miserable and expect it to only get worse from there. All too often it does, just because that's all they choose to see in that otherwise perfectly beautiful day," I told her.

"That's too bad. They need to see a cow born, a chicken hatch. I guess they need to wake up early and hug Life!" she said laughing.

"When was the last time you hugged Life?" she asked me.

"I am sorry to say even I have had trouble doing that lately," I said.

"Come here!" she said. Then standing up and stepping aside she said, "Go ahead... hug Life!"

I paused for a moment and dropping all thoughts of looking silly, I did. I hugged a cow

-Bob Perks