Burning old memories

Staying at home meant I had more time to do stuff I normally wouldn’t have time for – like flipping through old family albums at my in-law’s place, and flipping through my hubby’s photos from his university days.

Then I found one picture of him in Cairo airport with a pose similar to a picture of mine taken in Leeds airport. I smiled, was quite pleased to note that even when we did not know of each other’s existence, fate had it that we had similar photos taken at the airport. I turned the picture over, curious to read any caption because I know my husband sometimes wrote stuff at the back of photos. What I read immediately wiped the smile away from my face.

Apparently, he had given the photo to his ex, but she had returned it – as I later found out - along with other photos, postcards and stuff. The discovery of that picture somehow prompted me to look for other photos with similar wordings. One thing led to another and I found out that he still kept postcards that he’d sent to her (which she obviously had returned to him) and several pictures of the two of them were kept separately from other albums.

Okay – normally I’m not an overly jealous person. I can’t get jealous easily – he’s an ustaz and is regularly consulted by so many women. Besides, he has always been honest and open with me about his previous relationships, which I didn’t question much because we’ve both agreed to let bygones be bygones and start anew. Thus, right before my wedding, I’d carefully looked through my files and sifted evidence of previous relationships, be it printed email or letters. No pictures of just-the-two-of-us were saved. I made up my mind that my wedding is a new beginning and I wanted to start it clean.

So, finding those pictures and evidence of my husband’s previous relationship – in the same drawer rack in which I keep my stuff – really stunned me.

Granted, nobody wants a person nobody else wanted. But noticing how he’d used the same words he used with me, addressing her with the same term of endearments, noticing how cute and innocent the other girl looked, and how happy he seemed standing or sitting closely next to her and reading his teases on the postcards and the lovey dovey messages at the back of the photos he sent to her – really upset me. It made me felt like I was second best, a substitute for the main player who had been unexpectedly injured in an important match.

Granted, he’s entitled to have his memories with his ex. After all, I have my own share of history too. It’s just that I wished he would not keep those offending stuff anywhere near my sight – and definitely not in the drawer right below mine. I know I can’t take away the memories, but wouldn’t he at least consider to keep them elsewhere so that I will never ever stumble upon them? I can understand if he kept stuff he'd received from her but I felt that it was really frustrating to note that he kept stuff he'd given to her which she had returned to him. Obviously it is a signal that to her, they were done, over, finished. Which made me wonder – why did he still keep them?

A day after my discovery, I was admitted to the hospital. Perhaps my distress worsen my already-not-so-good condition. Yes, I cried. Over some stupid photos and postcards. Don't ask me why, I just could not help myself. But I refrained myself from discussing them with him until he returned home for the CNY break.

I told him about what I’ve found and how my discovery pained me. I’ve put those stuff aside as I wanted to give them to him. I knew I could have secretly, quietly disposed of them but felt it wouldn’t be right for me to do so. They belonged to him, so only he had the right to decide what to do with them.

“Just throw them away,” he quietly instructed.

“No, I don’t want to do that. They belong to you. Throw them if you want to, but don’t ask me to do that.”

“Sayang, honestly I thought I’ve gotten rid of them. I’m sorry, but I must have overlooked these. I’ve burnt the rest before… Why don’t you burn these for me now?”

So, I finally did just that. And oh my – how good it felt to witness those offending photos and old postcards being slowly burnt. I know I will never be able to burn old memories, but at least watching the memorabilia being destroyed was kind of healing. Therapeutic almost.

The reason for my long absence

Sorry I was gone for so long. I was away in February – melepek at home due to lots and lots of vomiting. Had several episodes of hyperemesis gravidarum (HG). It came as quite a surprise, really. I mean, I have been warned about feeling nauseous and all, but since I have been quite fit prior to my pregnancy I thought I could handle it. Yeah, right. I learned that while it’s not entirely my fault, whether or not I vomit is beyond my control. Besides, while nausea and vomit may be common in pregnancy, HG is something more, which only occurs in 0.5-10 cases per 1000 pregnancies. The fact that my biological mother had history of severe vomiting did not make things any better, it could be in the genes. I became so sensitive that anything and everything could cause vomiting. A heightened sense of smell meant I could not be in the kitchen during breakfast in the presence of Ayah’s steaming hot mug of Nescafe or while Mak cooked, my husband had to switch to another perfume, and certain brand of car perfumes were simply intolerable. Sensitivity to motion meant not only I could not drive, but also no long journey for me. Daily trip from Seremban to Putrajaya meant early morning run to the toilet after I clocked in and even a short trip from PJ to Putrajaya was enough to make me vomit. I vomited whether or not I consumed anything. If I eat something and I would be vomiting it later, otherwise I would still vomit some yellowish gooey. I could not tolerate food or fluid orally for long. Not even when I consumed what used to be my favourite food – sushi, cheese sandwich, even fruits. As a result of my inability to eat or drink, I think I have become more sympathetic towards anorexics. I still feel nauseous from time to time now, but during the few weeks of HG peak incidence, it was something else. No, asam (sour stuff) did not help with lessening the nausea. Nor did minyak cap kapak. In fact, the faintest smell of minyak cap kapak could send me running to the toilet. I could only stand the smell of Vick’s Vaporub if I needed ointment of some kind. At least now I can lessen the nausea simply by taking Nicolet nutmeg candy. By the end of my 10th week, I’d lost 9kg compared to my pre-pregnancy weight - about 15% weight loss. My blood pressure was all-time low - once the reading showed 89/53. I’d been treated with a total of 14 bottles of drip – 9 bottles of Hartmann’s Solution during my first treatment at Hospital Seremban, 2 bottles of normal saline 2 weeks later and 3 bottles of Hartmann’s Solution the following week. I had also been prescribed with Maxilon (Metoclopramide, a.k.a. Reglan), to be taken no more than three 10mg pills a day. (Later, I found out that despite it being more effective than most older medications, there could be a lot of side effects of taking this ‘safe-for-pregnant-mother-drug). Still, I guess the risk of treating with drugs that are most effective is often less risky than not treating at all since I have been told that dehydration and malnutrition worsen HG symptoms and can adversely affect the baby. Alhamdulillah, in my case, my baby's progress was not adversely affected. The doctor at PPUM who attended to me during my third visit to the emergency room was kind enough to give me a copy of my baby's ultra-sound scan picture and just looking at the black-and-white image of the forming head, hands and legs were enough to make me forget all the vomiting I'd gone through for him (ok, it's wishful thinking, we won't be able to tell the gender of the baby until after a month or two) Alhamdulillah, I have a very supportive family during the incidence. I moved temporarily back to my parents’ place in PJ after I was discharged from Hospital Seremban. Ayah and Mak took the Komuter to Seremban, to pick me up and drove me back to PJ using my car. Still, both Mak and my mother-in-law tried their best to oblige whenever I fancied eating anything – be it rice porridge, sambal bilis kering, terung bakar, pucuk ubi, daun turi or anything. Mak noticed how I only took my (daily half scoop of) rice steaming hot and must always be accompanied by really hot sambal and commented that my child will probably be like her who likes hot stuff. I must admit that while I could normally tolerate hot food, lately, I’ve grown to like cili api more. Anyway, I depended more on bananas instead of rice during those few weeks and Ayah always made sure we had steady supply of those. I’m thankful to have supportive friends too, who kept calling and sending SMS from time to time to check on me. The thing about HG, usually only those who have had it could truly understand how miserable and exhausting it could be. My body would ask me to just lay down and do nothing to fight the nausea as I've learned by experience that being active could only worsen the symptoms. So, even when friends called me at 12 p.m., I would normally still be in bed, but having friends checking up, showing their care and concern helped cheering me up a bit and made me felt better – emotionally at least, if not physically. And that made a whole lot of difference. In a way I’m also thankful that I went through such period. I was unable to go to work for a month because I was very weak and in a constant state of dizziness, but sometimes, when it wasn’t so bad, I could read the Quran and recite some zikr. In a way, the incidence gave me an opportunity to remember Allah more. And my short stay in the O&G ward gave me a reason to be more positive about my condition – it might be bad for me, but others are facing worse conditions. And so I count my blessings.

All is well

Assalamualaikum Ayah,

Ibu wants to let you know that we are okay despite her being admitted into the O&G ward last Friday. For the past few weeks her morning sickness had turned into all-day sickness. From vomiting exclusively during the early part of the day, she had been vomiting all day long lately, up until the wee hours in the morning. She had been feeling extra weary and had missed work for a day before feeling well enough to follow Nenek to see Dr Siti, the GP recommended by Mak Ngah Sofiah, in Bukit Chedang.

Upon inspection by Dr Siti, Ibu was told that should she went to the hospital, chances were that she would be retained and treated to a bottle or two of IV drips. Ibu was not really surprised to hear that actually, she had been unable to retain any food or fluid for long. – after all, how long can one survive only on fruits and iced Milo? So, after she got her B-complex pills, anti-vomiting medication and a 2-day MC from Dr Siti, she repeated Dr Siti’s comment to Nenek. Nenek was worried upon hearing the drip part and suggested Ibu to go and have a further check-up at the hospital.

So, Ibu and Nenek went to the Seremban health clinic and was met by Atok there. After a long wait and another urine test, Ibu got a recommendation letter by the doctor there to be passed to the Accident and Emergency Unit at Seremban Hospital.

After another long wait and the third urine test for the day, Ibu finally was admitted for hospital treatment to replace nutrients and fluids she had lost. She honestly thought that she would only be given a bottle or two of IV drip and only had to stay back for a while at the observatory ward. The truth was her case was more serious – she was treated with 9 bottles of IV drip right from the moment she entered the Emergency room, until the morning of her third day at the hospital. On the first day itself, she was treated with 5 500cc IV drip bottles.

You see Ayah, the urine test showed that traces of ketones in her urine were very high – it was 4+ upon her admission in the hospital. Which mean that Ibu’s metabolic system is upset due to her eating disorder and severe vomiting, But don’t worry Ayah, I am okay.

Ibu got to see me for the first time at Dr Siti’s clinic. Then later at the hospital, she had another ultrasound scan. I am now a healthy developing fetus about 25mm with a fully formed heart, beating furiously fast compared to the speed of the average adult heart.

All is well now. Ibu has gotten out of the hospital yesterday afternoon. Yes, sometimes she looked around with a pang of jealousy as other ladies in the ward were visited by their respective husbands but you were far away in Terengganu. At other times, she cried herself to sleep, wishing fervently for a back rub or a cuddly hug from you, knowing fully well that all she could have gotten was only unending flow of doa’ from you.

Still, being admitted in the O&G ward meant she got to meet and mingle with many other women with problems in pregnancy. And Ibu thank Allah everyday that she’s being blessed with a healthy fetus – just listening to horror stories of miscarriages and stillbirths make her realized how fortunate and blessed she is only to go through a severe bout of nausea, vomiting and fluid loss and not something even more scarier than those. Yes, Ayah, Ibu does count her blessings and she prays fervently that all will be well until I get to be safely delivered to the world, insya Allah.

Take good care Ayah.
Ibu loves you
And I love you both.

Your baby.

Value of High School Friends

Another close friend is getting married. Actually she’s closer than just a ‘close friend’, a ‘best friend’ almost.

I’ve known Ara since high school. We share the same name, so as to avoid confusion, people called her Ara (I got the nickname A.Z. in college when there was another girl who shared my first name. Since she only has one name and I prefer not to let others calling me Haida, I resorted to A.Z., which by the by suits me well, I think). Ara and I grew even closer when we were in upper forms as we were in the same class, in the same sports house and were both committee members of the school’s cooperative board. And yes, despite her being elected as a prefect during the final year at school, we had some history of breaking some (minor) school rules…

The friendship lasts even after we left school. Ara studied in KL while I was in Leeds, but always, there was this special bond we shared that's unique to us. As fate had it, we dated different guys with similar names at the same time, and our ups and downs in relationships were, well, almost always happened at the same time, although of different magnitudes. In fact, we almost chose the same date for our wedding! (Which I’m glad did not turn out to be so; otherwise we wouldn’t be able to attend each other’s wedding)

Ara and Ira, another close friend, were the one who attended to me on my akad nikah night, assisting my auntie Nyah in preparing me for the big occasion. I was a bit kelam kabut that night, but Ara quietly ordered me to sit back, relax and let they do things for me. “It’s your day to be a princess, so don’t worry about a thing – we’ll do it for you,” she insisted. Needless to say, both Ara and Ira did a great job of calming my nerves that fateful night.

Now, it’s her turn to be treated like a princess. Ira told me that she’ll be attending to Ara in the morning, putting on the tudung and all. I told Ira that I would like to go with her. My turn to help her out…

Often, things just change after one gets married, whether one likes it or not. There’ll be less time for the girlfriends, best friends or otherwise. Still I know, we will always be there for each other – although the time spend with each other might lessen. But we’ll be there for each other – to shop, share, heal, joke, pray, cry, laugh or just be.

#####

I’ve met and made lots of close friends since high school – in college, in University, at my old job, during my DPA days, even bonded well with a few women I met at meetings overseas – and I treasure them all. Some meet my spiritual need, some share my love for books, some my love for Japanese dramas, some were with me in seasons of turmoil and confusion, some were my clarifier and some doubled my joy and happiness.

Still, however close the rest are to me – my close friends from high school, Ira and Ara included - I consider them closest to being my best friends. People with whom I can let my guard down due to the depth of intimacy and trust that exist between us and with whom I don’t have to worry about my appearance because they had all seen me once in overlarge tudung labuh, extra-large brightly coloured plastic pair of glasses and a broken half front tooth. They are friends who love me for who I am yet would unabashedly offer a fresh perspective whether or not I need them; who know most, if not all, of my history and emotional baggage and yet able to listen without judging and offering comfort without being suffocating.

I thank Allah for high school friends who keep cheering each other up, cheering each other on and lifting each other’s spirits long after high school days ended. And I hope we’ll continue to share our secrets, hopes, doubts and dreams for many more years to come…

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.

I want to go to Makkah

... especially after reading this beautiful story by Hesham A. Hassaballa, a Midwestern Muslim...

I Want to Go Back to Mecca

I want to go back to Mecca.

As the years pass since my pilgrimage to Mecca, what I felt as I walked off the plane and recoiled from the cold Chicago air on my face has faded considerably. The glow in my eyes from the immensely powerful spiritual experience of the Hajj has dimmed a bit. The comings and goings of the life of this world have clouded the view of God that was so clear in the immediate days and weeks after the Hajj.

Yet, despite all of that, Mecca continues to call. Despite all of that, Mecca has left her mark on my heart. And I want to go back. When I first arrived in the Holy Precincts, I was instantly humbled and cowed by the awesome power of the Divine. I could not help it--His immense presence enveloped me and brought me to my knees. I needed such an experience. Being a doctor is an enormous blessing, and I do not take my profession for granted. Yet the temptation to consider myself like Him is always there.

With a quick flick of the wrist, I have the power to bring someone from the brink of death back to life. This is especially true in the intensive care unit, where I spend a good deal of my time. Add to this the immense respect and deference given to physicians many times: "Thank you very much, doctor." "Your life is in my hands, doctor." "Sure, doctor, whatever you want." The potential for corruption is immense, and I have strived my entire medical career to not let it go to my head.

You don't have to worry about that in Mecca. "There is no 'doctor' here," God says. "You are my servant. No more, no less." And I could not help but say, "Yes, Lord," looking away in humility. Yet, soon after I arrived in Mecca, God told me, "Get up, my servant" and he extended His Hands to me. "Come and let's talk." I did, and I loved it. And so, I want to go back.

He became my Loving Friend, listening and tending to my every need. This despite my sinning against Him time and time again. He never brought that up. He just listened. I talked up a storm, and He just listened. Even though He did not mention my sins, I did. I begged and begged and begged for His pardon, and He gave it to me, without even a moment's hesitation. And so, I want to go back.

And it's not like I left Him there. He came home with me, continuing to be my Loving Friend, and I have leaned on that friendship very heavily since I have come back. Yet, He never minds. And so, I want to go back. But why if He came home with me? Because, even though He is with me every day, there is nothing like hanging out in God's own House. There is nothing like it in the world. Mecca is not unlike other old Middle Eastern cities: hot, dusty, and pretty drab.

But the Grand Mosque, where the Ka'ba is located? It is a piece of Paradise. It glows with the Light of God, and I love being there. After all, it's my Best Friend's house. And so, I want to back.

Moreover, when I go back to Mecca, I will get to see (spiritually, that is) my beloved once again: the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) in Medina. I will get to walk with him once again. I will get to feel his cool, soothing presence once again. I will get to pray near him once again. I will get to enjoy the sweetness of his city and his mosque once again. And so, I want to go back.

Do I want to make another Hajj? No, not really. The Hajj, with all its spiritual splendor, is very difficult. I would rather go a different time, perform a lesser Hajj, and really enjoy the House of the Lord. I want the Holy Precincts to myself, without 2 million fellow believers. Call me selfish, but, it's my Best Friend's house. I can't help being selfish when it comes to my Best Friend. Besides, since I have already made my Hajj, I'll give up my space for another Muslim brother or sister who has yet to fulfill this most important of Islamic ritual obligations.

This time, however, I want to go with three beautiful women. No, silly, I don't have two other wives (shame on you for thinking that). I want to go with my wife and two daughters. I especially want to take my eldest daughter. She was diagnosed with Ataxia-Telangiectasia, a crippling and ultimately fatal genetic disease. We learned of her diagnosis in the weeks after we returned from Mecca two years ago. She's always wanted to go to God's House, and I desperately want to take her. I know that she will feel immediately at home, because she came to me from Him.

I want her to see the Ka'ba, the Black Stone, the hillocks of Safa and Marwa, the glory of God's House. I want her to taste how sweet the waters of the Zamzam well are. I want her to feel the presence of the Prophet Muhammad and taste the sweetness of his city and his mosque. I want her to feel what I felt when I went to the Hajj. I know she will love it.

When I roll her in her stroller (she is not able to walk very long distances any more) up to the Ka'ba, I want to say with her, "Here I am, O God, at your service, here I am!" Some may want to go back to God's House and complain or say, "Why?" I will not do that. God chose for me to be tested with having a child with a crippling disability, and I have to be patient. I learned how to be patient with God's tests during the Hajj. Moreover, the friendship I developed with God during the Hajj has become indispensable for helping me deal with my painful new reality.

So, when I go back to His house, I will go gladly. The Hajj and my daughter will forever be intimately linked, and to have my daughter with me in Mecca will be an immensely emotional time for me.

For the rest of my life, Mecca will always be in my heart. Mecca will always call to me, and I will always feel at home there at my Best Friend's house. And I don't think this feeling will ever go away, even if I go back 100 times. And so, I want to go back. I hope and pray that day comes very soon.

The Hantaran

For some reasons or another, my blog always got some hits from searches for "gubahan hantaran". So as not to dissappoint those who have been trying hard to get some ideas (or those who take pleasure from sneaking a peek at other people's hantaran), here's a picture of mine. All prepared and decorated by my auntie, Nyah, who used to be a school teacher and now a stay-at-home mom in Bandar Baru Bangi. There's the fruit basket, the watch, the chocolates (Bachi & Ferrero Rocher surrounded by chocolate coins), more chocolates in green containers (courtesy of Mak's former personal assistant), the samping, the large choc chip cookies (all hidden in the container with weaved ribbons), the towel & fleeces set, the baju pengantin (the one he wore during the kenduri sambut menantu in Seremban), and the perfume & toiletries set.

What marriage is all about

While I must admit that I am kinda a fan of most InTeam's songs, my hubby is not a big fan at all. "Jiwang sangat." He prefers Hijjaz, Raihan or Nowseeheart - to him, their songs make more sense while carrying the universal message of Islam. Still, there's one or two InTeam songs with lyrics that could make him stop and ponder (and even sang along to) like this one below, which talks about what marriage is all about... Okay, maybe not quite "all", but the essence of it is there anyway... So, this one goes out to newly-married couples, not-so-newly married couples and to-be-married couples... Kasihmu Amanahku (In Team - Damba Kasih, 2003) Pernikahan menyingkap tabir rahsia suami isteri inginkan keluarga yang bahagia dan mengharapkan sebuah bahtera indah untuk bersama belayar ke muara Pernikahan, menginsafkan kita perlunya iman dan takwa, meniti sabar dan redha bila masa senang syukuri nikmat Tuhan susah mendatang tempuhi dengan tabah Isteri janji telah dipateri diijab kabulkan dan dirahmati detik pertemuan dan pernikahan yang dihujani air mata kasih demi syurga Ilahi Suami jangan menagih setia umpama Hajar dan setianya Zulaikha terimalah seadanya yang terindah di lubuk hatimu isteri adalah amanah buatmu Pernikahan mengajar tanggungjawab bersama suami dan isteri Isteri hamparan dunia Suami langit penaungnya Isteri ladang tanaman Suamilah pemagarnya Isteri bagai kejora Suami menjadi purnama Tika isteri beri hempedu Suami tabah menelannya Tika suami terteguk racun Isteri carilah penawarnya Sungguh isteri rusuk yang rapuh berhati-hatilah meluruskannya Lagu & Lirik : Abai Os (Hijjaz Records Sdn. Bhd.)

Berita Kepada Kawan

Got this Indonesian song lyric via e-mail and thought it's kinda interesting - in the wake of the recent tsunami disaster... Berita Kepada Kawan Oleh: Ebiet G. Ade Perjalanan ini terasa sangat menyedihkan Sayang, engkau tak duduk di sampingku kawan Banyak cerita yang mestinya kau saksikan Di tanah kering berbatuan Tubuh ku terguncang di hempas batu jalanan Hati tergetar menampak kering rerumputan Perjalanan ini pun seperti jadi saksi Gembala kecil menangis sedih Kawan coba dengar apa jawabnya Ketika ia ku tanya "Mengapa?" Bapak ibunya telah lama mati Ditelan bencana tanah ini Sesampainya di laut ku khabarkan semuanya Kepada karang, kepada ombak, kepada matahari Tetapi semua diam, tetapi semua bisu Tinggal aku sendiri terpaku menatap langit Barangkali di sana ada jawabnya Mengapa di tanahku terjadi bencana Mungkin Tuhan mulai bosan melihat tingkah kita Yang selalu salah dan bangga dengan dosa-dosa Atau alam mulai enggan bersahabat dengan kita Coba kita bertanya pada rumput yang bergoyang

Making adjustments

It’s not that easy, when…

- One is so used to have a bibik to do this and that… suddenly finding herself having to do loads of stuff – not only for herself but also for someone else;

- One is so used to make lots of important decision on her own… now has to consider and ask another person’s opinion first before deciding on anything rather major;

- One is so used to be gila-gila, outgoing, and all … now has to keep reminding herself to be on best behaviour in public because others are observing her as “orang rumah Ustaz”;

- One is so used to discuss a lot of things with a mother with a global perspective and enjoys watching CNN and Al Jazeera… and now return to a ‘new’ stay-at-home mother who form parts of the neighbourhood grapevine and enjoys Gerak Khas tremendously;

- One is so used to skip dinner… now has to eat dinner because the ‘new’ mother (who’s so used to mothering and yet has no kids left at home now) insists on it;

- One is so used to pamper some cats after work… now find herself in a household where cats are treated as the enemies because they keep stealing the lauk and scavenge the rubbish bin;

- One is so used to stay back and blog almost daily after office hours… now has to stop doing so because she has to be on time to ensure that she doesn’t miss her car-pool trip home;

- As one is just beginning to get used to have a protective, supportive, understanding and loving husband by her side, he suddenly has to stay 600km away for a one-year course...

But then again, nobody said life is easy, huh?

The Wake Up Call

Mak said that the recent tsunami reminded her of her old days as a young kid staying in a typical kampung house in Pontian.

Why?

Allahyarham Mak Tua, Mak’s late mother, used to wake the children up for Subuh prayer early in the morning daily through some steps.

Firstly, she would simply announced sternly and loudly, “Bangun, bangun. Subuh, subuh”

The elder kids would immediately jumped at this and quickly folded their blanket or went to the telaga (well) for morning bath and ablution.

Then, seeing that some kids were still not awake, Mak Tua would knock on the wooden wall to make some noise while asking the kids to wake up.

This method usually worked to wake the rest of the kids up who would join the elder kids tidying up the room or went to the telaga.

Sometimes though, there would be one or two extra exhausted kids who wouldn’t respond to the noises made from wall knocking and other activities around them.

As a last resort, Mak Tua would use a sure fire method to wake her kids up.

She would go to the front door, get a gayung of water, and…
….shhhhheeeesssshhhhhh
poured the content down on the still-sleepy-kid’s face.

It always worked.
Despite the wet pillow, wet mattress and all, it never failed to get the kid to be instantly alert and paid more attention to what the mother had to say.

Which to Mak, seemed just like how the recent tsunami has caused many to suddenly be more aware of their behaviours and many more to start paying serious attention to words of God.

It seemed to Mak, water always work well as a wake up call…

Loss... so sudden

“LIFE... so fragile.
LOSS... so sudden.
HEART... so broken.

In the wake of such a loss, we're haunted by things we don't - and may never - understand. Yet the solace we seek may not come from answers. So we look for comfort in the belief of love's everlasting connection. May that love lift you, hold you close, and give you peace.”

- wording as found on a serene looking Hallmark card with a single white Iris against midnight black background cover.


Dear Ariff, Faisal & Junaidi.

We have been waiting patiently for news regarding your family and relatives but yet to hear anything. Sms messages were sent & we tried calling your hand phone in Egypt, but alas, none of you could be reached.

It’s difficult to imagine ourselves in your place. It’s impossible to imagine your pain. Personal loss is always more tragic and we have no right to claim that we understand how you feel or what you are going through. We don’t. It’s beyond our comprehension.

Still, please be assured that we will all be here for you and your family should you need anything... Our thoughts and prayers are with you, as you face this difficult transitional time in your life.

While we are never prepared for the loss of loved ones, Allah is always there to help us through that loss. We pray that He will guide you always as the healing begin in your heart and soul and may His love surround you with the comfort only He can give.

Take good care.

Our love and prayers are with you always,
Bapak, Ibu, Abang, Kakak
Kampung Tunku, Malaysia.

* note: Ariff, Faisal & Junaidi are Achehnese currently pursuing their Masters degree in Egypt which are partly sponsored by my father's family members and my family have come to regard them as part of our own family. We have yet to learn about their family's fate after the recent tsunami disaster in Sumatera.

*17 Jan 2005 - Update:
After a long and anxious wait, finally we got some words from Ayah’s Achehnese adopted sons in Egypt last week. Junaidi called to let us know that Ariff, Faisal & him did not lose any of their immediate family members during the recent tsunami disaster. They said that they are okay, but all of them have lost some relatives – cousins, uncles, aunties, etc. Please pray for all of them, ya - both for those who have passed away & those who survive...

It's been a month...

... since my last entry. I've been receiving lots of queries in different forms (sms, email, phone calls, instant messages, even one particular comment in my previous entry) regarding my return to blogosphere.... Sorry for not writing earlier - but there are reasons for my absence... Anyway - thanks for all the support so far - and yes, I would very much like all of you to continue reading my blog... Since I'm in sort of "thanking mood", I would like to take this opportunity to thank all who had attended my wedding, for sharing that moment with me. (Yes, that includes you Moontari, Nectar & family, Kit & Althie, Jordan & Leen, Derex & Sarini... ) For those I missed seeing on my kenduri - sorry for not greeting you personally that day - it was such a large crowd and I was... well, busy... As for the rest - thank you all for the warm wishes, prayers, emails and loads of sms ;-) It's not like I don't want to write earlier, but... (a) Probably due to some new ministries moving in to Parcel E in Putrajaya, the internet connection at my office was really really bad for the first two week after my return to the office. Could not even check on my email properly as the connection kept being disrupted every so often. Attempts to blog always made me felt even more frustrated, since blogspot somehow appeared to have forgotten my blog's existence. (b) Taking 10 days leave usually means the same thing to most people upon return to the office - you'll find your desk full with matters to attend to URGENTly. Not to mention heavily flooded e-mailbox(es) (c) I am now staying in Taman Rasah, Seremban. In term of distance, Seremban-Putrajaya is not that much different from Petaling Jaya-Putrajaya. However, the vast difference in toll charges (used to pay RM4 daily to & fro, now it's RM11 daily) was among the factor which I considered in deciding to car pool with another senior officer who's staying in Taman Rasah Jaya. Since he's the one who drives daily (I just pay some monthly token), I have to join him going back at about 5.00 pm daily as opposed to 6.00 pm or 7.00 pm which I used to do. Last time, at least I have an hour or two after office hour I dedicated for my blog. Now, no more... (d) If I get to stay at home after work, maybe I could also blog from home. However, my darling husband is really really big on visiting relatives and family friends, so much so that my intention to blog from home has very little chance to be turned into reality. He started taking me to visit friends and family starting from the very night of our kenduri sambut menantu in Seremban. . In fact the one week leave I took after our wedding was fully utilised to visit family and friends. On that Monday right after our kenduri in Seremban - we managed to visit 11 houses all over Negeri Sembilan. 5 houses on Tuesday, another 5 on Wednesday, 2 houses on Thursday before our drive to Kedah, 3 houses all over Kedah on Friday followed by another 5 on Saturday... Even after I started working, he insisted on taking me to at least 1 house each night, and more during weekend, up to 5 houses in a day. Yes, I must admit that it's tiring - blame it on the Negeri Sembilan's adat of "menyalang"... (e) And if he does not take me out to visit Pak this or Mak that or any of the many cousins (his mother has 36 still-alive siblings - from different mothers, since his late grandfather married more than one), I have to join him going for any of the religious classes that he joins or he conducts. But somehow someway, I'll keep on blogging insya Allah. For now, here's some pics - one each from my nikah night, the kenduri on my side, and the kenduri sambut menantu - for your view. ##### On my nikah night On my kenduri day (PJ) On kenduri sambut menantu day (Seremban)

Hiatus

A note to let you all know that I'll be away until the week after next, insya Allah...
Err... yes - it's due to the kenduri...
Tolong doakan semua sempurna, ye?

Take care and see you later, insya Allah

A short note

... to thank the moderator of Ujanailmu on his thoughtfulness. Your package of nicely wrapped and presentable kuih kesirat, (a traditional kuih of Negeri Sembilan which could have easily been mistaken for kerisik) was safely received yesterday. Thank you for your warm wishes and doa for me.

I am not sure whether linking my blog to Ujanailmu has helped Ujanailmu’s business in any way – but I know I would encourage my friends to give it a try. Many are no longer afraid to click and do their banking online. Many more should be encouraged to make book purchases online too.

Once again – thank you.

A few tips on preparing for an engagement

It’s quite funny to note that recently I’ve gotten lots of e-mail seeking advice and opinions on engagement or wedding preparation. Actually, I believe my preparation is one of the hastiest ever – a ‘proper’ preparation could take about 6 months or a year in advance, as suggested by this blogger.

For those who plan on getting engaged – good luck. I can share with you a little bit of my experience – but I may not be the best to disperse some advice since I only had two weeks to prepare for my engagement (that’s exactly why I had to loan a friend’s jubah instead of wearing my own baju on that day).

Here’s a few tips on engagement – as requested by a few friends and readers :

* Seek your parents’s advice – especially your mom. You might be the one who’s getting engaged but your parents would want to be involved – so go seek their opinions on this and that – the ring, the theme of the hantaran and stuff. In my case, the engagement ring was bought in the presence of both his mom and Mak just to make both mothers feel more involved.

* The engagement ring could be a simple band or a ring with diamond or other stones. You have the options of sending first a cincin tanda during merisik and later send another proper cincin tunang or just simply choose between sending a cincin risik or a cincin tunang. It’s your engagement – you choose. For those in Putrajaya – Habib Jewels in Alamanda is currently selling diamond V-ring (with white or yellow gold) at RM295 (normal price RM590), which I think is nice and reasonable enough to be used as an engagement ring.

* Keep it simple and within your financial budget. The hantaran could be less than those for wedding – 3, 5 or 7 dulangs are sufficient. Usually it is headed by the engagement ring (for the guys) and tepak sirih, followed by other dulangs comprising potpourri/bunga rampai, chocolate, sweets, cake or other forms of manisan. But in my case – Mak insisted on giving more significant gifts – so, of the 7 dulang we gave in return of my fiance’s 5, four were akin to hantaran normally sent during wedding – a pair of leather formal shoes; perfume & toiletries set; belt, wallet & pen set; shirt, tie, tie pin & cuff link set. Knowing this in advance, my fiancé also gave me a pair of jubah, a sejadah & a nice woollen shawl. Don’t forget to discuss with your partner – just so that the hantaran would be somewhat balanced.

* Once you have set the numbers of dulangs to be exchanged, stick to it. Once a friend was advised by her partner that his family would bring 7 dulang. On the actual day, they came with 11. Her family had to frantically made up additional 4 dulang - which made the occassion a really kelam kabut lintang pukang one. Try to avoid that, okay?

* Add your personal touches. Pick a few aspects of the engagement and make them personalised – the personal touch can make it more memorable and pleasant, even after the function was over. I did the fruit basket for the hantaran myself – and was very pleased to note that that particular basket was in mint condition and used as a home décor object at his house when my family visited his family for Raya.

* Keep the calendar and to-do lists together. Your to-do lists are time sensitive and while you mark the calendar with the times and dates of appointments, you can also update your to-do lists. What I mean by to-do lists, huh? Stuff such as borrowing or buying the dulang hantaran, get the gubahan hantaran ready, getting the outfits ready, ensuring there’s film in the camera or a new tape for the videocam, etc.

So there. Hope this could be of help.

Lulur at Home

Preparing for a wedding can be really, really taxing. I’m experiencing it first hand. Being the eldest and the only girl in the family has its disadvantages – and this is one of it. I can’t rely on elder brothers or sisters to take care of stuff. My youngest brother Adik is still studying in Jordan and Abang, well – he has a lot on his hands right now. Mak and Ayah of course have their own roles, especially regarding the make-over of our home, the kenduri food and canopies. Apart from those, I attend to most of the preparation which translates into lots of stuff – from choosing the outfits, distributing (and posting) invitation cards, buying flowers for the whole house (pelamin, bilik pengantin, the stairs, high table), buying the bed set for the bilik pengantin, bla bla bla down to the teeny meeny tiny stuff as getting the tiny roses made from satin ribbons and sewing them onto my flower girls’ dresses. Yes, I do them myself. A few married friends expressed their concerns – “Why don’t you pamper yourself, just go for facial or spa. You have to think about these things too, you know? You’ll want to look your best on your big day.” Ok, honestly speaking, going for a facial treatment is a foreign concept to me. I don’t wear make-up. I don’t even wear lipstick and I don’t do facial. I just rely on the basic cleanse-tone-moisturise regime daily. Occasionally I’ll put on a facial mask to give my face some extra ‘lift’. So, I’m still undecided about doing this facial thingy. Spa, though, is another thing. I’ve tried sauna, aromatherapy steam bath, massage with essential oil and all. But of course, I have a budget to worry about and can’t afford that many costly days at the spa. Fortunately, a girl I met at a beauty salon was kind enough to share some tips and secrets on mandi lulur (body scrub) so that I can do it myself at home. By knowing these tips, the girl told me, I could save up to a few hundred ringgits since I can do exactly the same thing at home for a lot lesser than what they normally charge at the beauty house. I’m sharing the tips and secrets here - hope it can help other bakal pengantin on a tight budget too. The equipments: Long handled bath brush Small towel to be used as wash cloth A bath tub Dry towels 2” paint brush The ingredients: Olive oil – massage oil, not the extra virgin olive oil Italians use for cooking. Lulur Mas Sinangling (Mustika Ratu) Kulit Rambai Powder (Bunga Tanjung) Lulur Mas Sinangling soap (Mustika Ratu) Mangir Powder (Mustika Ratu) UHT Low fat milk Essential aromatic oils 1. Gently lather the olive oil on your feet and body. Massage in circular motions from your feet upward. This will help to smoothen and soften the skin as well as help causing less pain during scrubbing. 2. Mix two packets of Lulur Mas Sinangling and a packet of Kulit Rambai powder with sufficient water to make a paste. Apply on whole body. Wait until partly dry and then gently scrub with the small dry towel in a circular motion, rubbing off the powder. This will exfoliate dead skin cells, cleanse the pores, activate lymphatic circulation and boost the elimination of toxins. Use the long handled bath brush to reach your back - slough off the dead skin cells with wide circular strokes. 3. Rinse with warm water and use the Lulur Mas Sinangling soap to get rid of the yellowish excesses. Pat dry your body. 4. Mix Mangir powder with sufficient water to make a paste. Apply on whole body using the paintbrush. Wait until almost dry and the flakes start to fell on their own. Gently rub off the powder. Mangir has a whitening effect on the skin apart from making the skin softer, smoother and it helps eliminating body odour. 5. Mix two cartons of UHT low fat milk with sufficient warm water in the bathtub. Add in essential oils to suit your mood and purpose. Soothing oils such as lavender and chamomile help to unwind after a particular busy period. Stimulating oils such as rosemary and citrus fruit helps to revitalize and energize. 6. Soak in, rest and relax. You can put on a facial mask and soothe your eyes with used teabags or thin cucumber slices – yes, they do help in relieving soreness and puffiness. This is a weekly treat. For daily purposes, just use those lulur scrubs in bottle (Puteri Binari, Temulawak or anything - they are nicer in smell than Lulur Mas Sinangling and don’t leave yellowish excesses but perhaps not as effective in exfoliating the dead skin cells). You can tell the difference after three weeks – the skin is softer, smoother and more radiant. Why don't you give it a try and find out for yourself ;-)

It feels just right

Assalamualaikum wrt Dear A, Thank you for being my reader. When I started blogging about my wedding preparation – apart from writing about something that’s close to my heart, I was also hoping that my blog could benefit my readers in any way – and I’m glad to note that you claimed my jottings as ‘insightful’. You asked me how did I end up deciding that this is the Guy. I’m sorry to disappoint you – but, no, we did not just click on the first conversation. No, there wasn’t any electricity sparks in the air when we first met. No, there was no somersault in the tummy when we first went out together. Contrary to your belief – I was not all that confident about marrying this guy in the first place. Even on the morning of our engagement day, I had some fear that his rombongan might not even turn up for the occasion. In fact, less than a month ago, I was so mad at him about something that I almost asked him to call off the wedding. (As someone had wisely pointed out before – yes, tempers do fly during these times…) Yes, I guess you can say that I’ve agreed to marry a stranger. How much could one learn about another in a month’s time, anyway? Yet, we were engaged exactly a month after we first met. And mind you – we did not even talk to each other the first time he came to my house. I put my trust in Allah’s guidance through istikharah, solat hajat and lots of doa’. I put my trust in my gut feeling that this is the Guy – regardless of all the missing ‘signs’ in the first instance. Well, you know, those ‘signs’ such as the sparks, somersaults in the tummy and all. I put my trust in both family’s blessings. Like my auntie reminded me time and time again – I’m not only going to be someone’s wife, I am also going to take up the role and responsibilities as someone else’s new daughter, sister, aunt, grand daughter – in his family. Having his family’s blessings right from the very beginning is insya Allah, a good sign. Most importantly - it feels just right. Like many other girls my age, I’ve had my shares of crushes and admirers and even some marriage proposals. Like many others too, I’ve known what it felt to be rejected and did some rejection too. Somehow, my previous relationships had never worked well. The longest lasting relationship that I had was too turbulent, and despite having deep and mutual feelings for each other, he ended up marrying another. Tak ada jodoh… As for the rest – they never felt just quite right. I guess sometimes we gotta go through the bad to get to the good… There was an insistent friend who kept asking me out for a few years and persistent enough to actually introduce himself to my parents – but I could not rid the feelings that we’re meant to be just buddies and not more. There was a colleague with whom I had great chemistry with – but I worried about his lack of commitment as a practising Muslim. Then, there was a guy who seemed like the most eligible bachelor - stable job with good pay, no living parents, no dependents, good looking, athletic build, et cetera – but trust was a major issue between us. Certainly I don’t want to spend the rest of my life - or a large portion of it - with someone I cannot trust, right? With my fiancé though, it feels just right. At first I was rather blasé, since I’d learned that once, he was almost engaged to another but called it off at the last minute - so I put up some emotional shield of some sort, made up my mind not to fall easily for him.... However, over the time, he crumbled my defences bits by bits with his words, his actions, his gifts. He made it a point to know about my favourite things to gain cookie points here and there. While other guys might have wooed me with more expensive gifts; knowing my soft spots for postcards, he entrusted into my care his own collection of postcards from Middle East. While others had insisted on taking me out to posh restaurants; knowing my curiosity to taste something new and different, he took me out for lunch at a restaurant which served among others - landak, rusa and kijang. It feels just right because to me, he knows how to show that he respects and cherishes me. It also feels right because it's easy for us to accept each other as who we are. While being graduates from different parts of the world means that there are obvious differences in thoughts and opinions, we discovered that we actually have a lot in common - we both believe in certain principles, we both want certain similar things in life and we share a few similar likes and dislikes. As for differences, we are now learning to tolerate those, as well as try to learn from and with each other. No, there was no spark initially - but as I learn more about him, I learn to like, respect and grow fonder of him with each passing day. No, there were no butterflies in my tummy when we first met - but now somehow, my heart automatically makes a double flip-flop of joy when he sometimes appears for a surprise visit. You said that you could not bring yourself to say 'yes' to a friend who’s expressed his wish to marry you. You have made up so many excuses and you felt that it might be a sign that you are not willing to accept him. You also talked about some ‘preset qualifications’ that you have after indulging in so many romance novels, films and all – about how he should be someone who can read, understand and practice the Quran and Hadiths, taller than you, of medium build, doesn’t smoke, and most importantly, he must be able to treat your family and friends well. Well, different people go through different kind of experiences, and yours might make an even more interesting read than mine... Still, I would support you to trust your gut feeling (istikharah-aided, of course). If it tells you that this is not the guy – then, insya Allah maybe the time will come later for you to feel that it is "just right" when the right person comes along.. As for the preset qualifications – well, just learn to distinguish the ‘must-have’ and the ‘nice-to-have’. Nobody will be able to fulfil all the ‘qualifications’ – thus, it’s important to note that the ‘must-have’ are fulfilled first before the ‘nice-to have’. After all, qualities such as practising Muslims, integrity, honesty, loyalty, patience and trustworthy are often considered more important than say, a guy who owns a condominium in prime area, receives monthly fat pay cheques with good look… And when you finally meet your Guy – try to highlight his strength rather than concentrating on his weaknesses - because at the end of the day, since we may not get what we like, it's important that we learn to like what we get... But more importantly – it has to feel just right. You’ll know how it feels when it happens. Seriously. Selamat Hari Raya Aidilfitri. Taqabballahu minna wa minkum.

Binding Old Ties

It never hit me how news of an impending wedding could really bind some distant and old friends together until today

This morning I got a surprise call – from a long lost childhood friend.

“Heard that somebody is getting married…”

“Err… yup. Who’s on the line, please?”

“Your old friend in Kulim.. We used to go to Sekolah Tunku Abdul Malik together…”

Ok – I know one of my fellow PTD who used to go to the same primary school. But this guy did not sound like him at all…

“Err… Is this Zul?”

“Nope. This is Mat”

“Mat? Which Mat?”

“Alaaa…. Mat… Mat la… Ingat tak – hat orang dok panggil Mat Sentul tu… sebab suka buat kelolol macam Mat Sentul…”

Ok, I remember having a buddy called Ajim – but Mat Sentul?

“Is this Ajim?”

“No, I am Ajim’s friend. Laaa… hang tak ingat ka?”

“Err… hang ingat lagi ka?

“Laa… awat pulak tak ingat. Dok main sama-sama, pi sekolah sama.. Mana boleh tak ingat”

By then, I felt so guilty for not remembering him when he obviously remembers me.

“Your Ayah just left the house, after inviting our family…”

Oh… Ayah went back to Kulim on an emergency – to visit one of my great uncles who had to be rushed to the hospital and warded due to some heart and diabetes related problems. He brought a lot of the invitation cards – to be distributed to former neighbours.

“Congratulations. So good to know that you are doing well now. I would really like to attend the wedding of my childhood friend. You can count on me coming. I won’t miss this for anything.”

I was touched. So glad that at least a childhood friend remembers me in fondness… I’ve always thought of myself as a somewhat terrible friend because I’ve never kept in touch with any of my childhood friends in Kulim after I moved to PJ years ago… I wonder though, since he claimed that I used to hang out with him a lot, how could I’ve forgotten a friend with such an interesting nickname like Mat Sentul?

#####

Later in the afternoon, by mere chances, I found out that another friend will be having his kenduri soon too. We used to be quite close in Leeds and I’d been trying to get his address to invite him to my wedding. I obtained his e-mail address from another friend and quickly sent him an email, teasing him for not informing me about his big day.

His reply was prompt, starting with:

“I’ve been searching high and low for you… Finally we meet again, alhamdulillah. I’ve tried calling you numerous times, but the number I had is no longer in service. So, I felt a bit at a loss, but honestly, I really, really remember you…”

It was quite easy for me to believe him - because I’d been trying to do exactly the same thing; searching high and low, just so that I get to invite him to my kenduri.

It turned out that we won’t be able to attend each other’s wedding after all – our respective kenduri will be held on the same day.

Great minds think alike, huh?

Playing 20 questions

... could be an effective tool in getting to know each other, especially when you don't know your future life partner all that well prior to your engagement.

Apart from checking on my memorization of the Quran (Juz Amma actually, beginning from easy surahs like An-Nas onwards), my fiancé insists on us playing 20 questions almost on a daily basis. He realised that we did not know much about each other prior to our engagement and he insisted on us getting to know as much as we could about each other in the short span of time we have before our wedding. Hence - playing 20 questions...

In the beginning, he did most of the asking – at that time, I was still busy trying to acknowledge him in my mind as the guy I’d agreed to spend the rest of my life with. I simply echoed his questions, but gradually I came out with my own list of queries. Nowadays, we neither put a limit on the number of questions nor limit the time to answer – one could always mull on a difficult question and revert to the other the next day or whenever we feel like answering it.

The questions vary – from mundane queries such as “Which flavour of tom yam do you like most?” and “Do you like fruity chewing gum?” to serious topics on financial-related matters, household chores distribution, how to handle it if one of us get affected by a terminal disease, which couple we look up to as model for a stable relationship, how to discipline and befriend our future children, etc.

I’d been advised by many to have an MoU of some sort with him prior to the wedding.
“Chances are he’ll try to please you now – and you can hold to some of his sweet promises later on in life,” a friend said. Still, somehow I tried not to make him promise lots of things during our 20-questions sessions. For me, what’s more important is that somehow playing 20 questions with each other give us time to know each other better, to focus on what our future marriage will mean to us as individuals, as a couple, as a family.

I found setting aside time to actually talk things out, to better understand each other’s expectations, helps us both to separate myth from reality. Yes, we had had our fair shares of disagreements – and I am expecting more to come in the future – yet no matter how differently we talk, look at things, solve problems, fight - it always boil down to one conclusion – our differences are the reasons we can complement each other so well.

I used to pray to meet a partner with whom I have enough in common and enough differences so that we can indulge in similar interests together yet never tire of learning from each other.

Now, I’m discovering with each passing day that I might have met just the right person…