Down the memory lane..

Last night, I dreamt I was in Swansea.. I don't know whose house it was and I was thinking, where are my friends? In my list, I had many visits to do - I had to see my Sudanese son, Zakaria and his wife, Sara, and also their newly born son, Yahya. Or I should find my Mauritius sister first and give her a big hug (oh! I miss her hugs - they are warm and comforting) and also in the list, the mosque to see sheikh Mohsen and his wife and children... I had to see my other sheikh, Sheikh Abdullah, Brother Asim and many more good friends... Oh.. the list was getting very long.

Then I met Sheikh Mohsen with his 2 sons.. but I didn't get to do much or talk to him. While planning to meet the others, I woke up. Aaah.... I should have do it fast while I had time but I did not. So there I was, all awake and thinking of Swansea again! Is it just me or do all these flashbacks come more often as we become more mature and more appreciative of our friends and memories that keep us alive?


This morning, I was checking my student's work when I came across one of their videos... the background song was "Hari ini dan semalam". Oh boy! It took me back to the time when my brother Zul was very little. I bet he still remembers.. One night, he couldn't sleep and he took his red guitar which my dad bought for him in KL and sang that song across the bedroom door! He was so cute and funny.... he is a good loving brother.



I used to hate him for taking over my place. He came into my life when I was 8. Being the youngest in the family for 8 years spoiled me but suddenly, there he was. At night, I was pushed to the edge of the bed. I remember for the first few days, I slept at my parents' feet. I was determined to stay on that bed by hook or by crook. Eventually, I had to be shifted and squeezed into my sister's bed... how big the bed was.. it can accommodate many of us. We were all like 1 or 2 years apart. We usually play together but being the youngest, I sometimes, can't fit in. So I hang out with my own gang. Children at that age do not play in the house. We were so adventurous ... our activities include digging the soft soil for worms and maggots, crossing the lalang field searching for all sorts of insects and what not.


My sisters... they come with all sorts of characters. It would take me too long to describe every each one of them... so I won't do it here. Such wonderful sisters they are. But at that time, I was thinking why were there too many girls... Of course, I was being silly! Looking back at those wonder years when we were kids, playing without any care in the world, it does feel sad deep inside. The sadness is not about not able to meet them everyday because they do not live near, but the sadness is more about how much you miss those time... when the parents are still young and things were so much different.. when my dad bought anything, we will divide equally among us how little they are. Of course, life gets better but it is true when Allah says, with every difficulty there is ease... indeed, it was fantastic. Being kids must be one of the best time in our lives and every each one of us must have special memories of ourselves...


Do you know that my Bangoli daughter can remember as far as when she was weaning? I bet you don't believe me.... Hey! I am not kidding. Hmmm... that's so rare!


I better get back to my business now... I can't daydreaming all day like this... so adios! Have I told you that I win a contest yesterday? Well.. that's another story.


May Allah bring us happiness in our lives and help us to step forward each day with plenty of smiles..... ameen to that!

Mother's Day

When I was small, my world revolved around me and my dad. Everything was me and my dad.. how we used to go round the town on his motorcycle and how he used to pick me up and embarrassed me in front of my friends. He was so proud of me. Every time I got good grades, he'll take me on his motorcycle and told his friends when he meet them. I can see how proud he was. My favourite dish was "Sup Kepala Ikan Merah" which my mom loves to make. My dad would proudly said like, "who says fish head is not good for the brain... my daughter loves it and she is doing very well at school!". Oh Dad! I miss you so much.

Before I left for the United States for my first degree, we stayed at our relative's house in Bangi. He planted a coconut tree as a reminder of my departure - not everyone gets to go to United States for a degree - ... I am the first in the family and got a Petronas sholarship. Of course, he was very proud. Every time I called home, I always ask to talk to my Dad. I don't know why... I guess my Dad had played an important role in my life. He send me letters and used the say like "Kehadapan anakanda yang dikasihi".. such formal words - Mind you, he was a Policeman. and when I read the letters, I would just cry and cry. I missed my family but I miss him especially. Oh.. how long ago it was but the memory was so vivid in my mind. I was naive and being away at that young age was kind of a shock to me. I've never been away from home. To me, I was given "wings". With those "wings", I got married and had my first daughter there. Wow.. how adventurous my life was.

Things were never the same when I came back from the United States. My Dad did not show up at the airport... I was shocked! I can feel that something was not right. I kept asking everyone where he was... he was at home! I guess this is the first time I am openly talking about it.. I was pregnant with my second child and my first daughter was 2 1/2 years old at that time. He was a bit upset somehow.... he never express it but I figured that out after sometime. Now I understand his frustration. I was the so called "brightest" in the family. I was his pride and joy. He wanted to see me getting good job and be successful in my career. But there I was... all pregnant with no job yet and family to feed. Of course I have my husband but we were like kids then. No job yet and 2 kids? This is not America...

Wow... how time flies.... life was a bit difficult but we have made it somehow - the turbulances, we had gone through that. I believe if my Dad is here, he'll be so proud of me again. He has such a lovely heart. He loved people and he was always there for me. Even when he was frustrated with me, but he loves my children. He taught Kak Long to talk. Kak Long was not talking yet when we came back from the US. He taught her every day... I remember how he used to sit at the kitchen table and he was fantastic with my kids. Oh.. He loved them so much and was especially close to Liyana. One day he came to visit because he missed the children and on that day, Liyana took her first step.. she started walking. Today, liyana is already in university... she is having her third year final exam today.

Back to my story, when I got the phone call about my Dad's death (1998), I feel like I can't breath anymore. The world stopped. I wasn't expecting it coming at all. I don't understand why he has to go so early... I thought he would be there for me always. I want him to see me progresses in life... I want him to see how wonderfully my children grow. Somehow, we assume our parents would always be there for us.. To me, he looked healthy enough .... he had his heart problem but he was always smiling when I was home... I cried and cried all the way home. We had to drive back and we were about 300 kms away. My husband was driving so fast that night when he was caught by a policeman. When my husband told the policeman of the situation, he let us go and advised us to drive safely.... After a few days, we found a poem wrote by Liyana for my dad. We read in front of everyone and we all cried.. my sisters, my brother, my mom.. everyone was so touched. She throwed it away.. she was hurt! Everyone was... the house seems to be empty without Dad and we still felt his presence for sometime. It was like he was at the mosque praying or out to town. We can't really seem to digest the reality just yet. Well... everything takes time and we thank Allah for giving us the courage and patience to go through all the difficult times in our lives.

After my dad was gone, I realise that I still have a mom. Oh mom.. I am so sorry I neglected you. I was always thinking about Dad and my Mom was always second place. Being a mom, I understand her more now than I used to. Now that Dad is gone, I came back to be near her... I watch her grow old day by day and it breaks my heart. Well... I am growing older too! But seeing her getting older physically makes you think.. what should you do for her now. I determine to make her happy. I determine to make her proud of me. I want her to love me and be please with me so Allah will be please. I want to be closer to her now... Oh Allah, help me to be a good daughter to my mom and to please her so that you will be pleased.

So on Mother's day last sunday, I kissed her and hugged her and gave her a bouquet of flowers. Of course.. they aren't the real orchids. I don't want to put her into more work, having to water and look after it... She was so happy and said, "Rudy, it must be expensive!" (In my heart, I was saying.. nothing is expensive when it comes to you ... you have done so much for me). That is my mom. She was always anxious about money... she is always careful not to trouble us and I love her so much. Happy Mother's Day, mom. I love you. How bless I am to still have you around.

Allah says in His holy book, "And we enjoined upon man to be dutiful to his parents - his mother bore him in weakness upon weakness and his weaning lasted two years that you be grateful to Me and to your parents. To Me is the destination. But if they strive with you on that you set partners with Me that of which you have not any knowldege of, then do not obey them. but keep them in company in the world with kindness; and follow the way of those who turn in repentance to Me. Then to Me will be your return and I shall inform you of what you used to do". (Surah Al-Luqman:14,15).

And to my children, thanks for the mother's day wishes.... I love you all too very much.

My daily life...keeping an open heart!

I was getting very busy this past few days. I feel like I have to do everything... it certainly feels that way when one gets too tired. But then, a few days ago, I heard a lecture on "IKHLAS" - how one needs to understand the reason behind his/her deeds. Why we do things really matters. We don't do things because we want to get some praises from people... it won't be worth it. It should be more than that - when Allah acknowledges your work, that is when your deeds count. It sure is easy to say than do.

We often complain how people do not acknowledge our work... they don't even say thanks or even mention about it. We often also heard people say like "engkau ingat siapa buat keje ni!" But it sure is good to be able to praise others for how good they have done their job - in Britain, people usually say "That's brilliant!" Even a small task is praised.. Here, people are less expressive.

Actually, we are taught that to be thankful to people is to be thankful to God. How lovely... it is true what Sheikh Abdullah repeatedly stressed to us in his lecture that people around us are tests for us.. Somehow, it is easy after understanding this to go through your life without feeling uneasy or tense. I believe living in Swansea and going through the islamic classes, I am beginning to understand life more, things starting to make sense. That remembering Allah is more about remembering His love than His wrath. And remembering Muhammad p.b.u.h. is clinging to sunnah and missing him as our Idol of life .. In our daily life, we have to always read the signs of Allah and His messages and that things do not happen at random. There must be reasons behind everything. When we understand this, for every small things, there are lessons to learn.

With children, we have to do this all the time... helping them to understand life and relating that to Islam. Only then, it will become a way of life... Allah send messages everyday for those who wants to take heed.

I remember on my way to send Amir back to his school yesterday when he mentioned to me that there was one horrible boy, had a bad attitude. Just recently came back from Umrah, according to Amir, the boy seemed to behave even worst. When our child say this... what do we say? they gets all kinds of advices from many sources.. you name it - the simpson? Mr. Bean? Merlin? The world is an open school but we cannot let just about everyone to be their teachers.

I believe we need to help children to understand that we have no control over other people's behaviour.. so there is no point of backbiting or talking about it with other people than to help the person improve himself. I ask Amir if he is the judge or is Allah the judge of people's behaviour. I told him, if he wants to be the judge, then he is doing Allah's job... which will tire him. Allah does not get tired doing His job.. so let Him be the judge for He is the best of all judges. I told him to stop being judgemental... after all, we are not perfect ourselves.

Oh my! For all I know, I was not advising him but advising myself. That is why I love having conversation with my children... it is not about educating them but reminding myself.

Something funny happened when we were having dinner just before we send Amir off. He said his friend, Nadia was mad at him because he was trying to save his iman and he texted her that he will no longer reply to her messages. He narrated the hadith, DO NOT GO NEAR ZINA. He was taught to stop talking unnecessarily to girls… what can I say? Kids are better learners than us, adults.

As we were driving along the highway, I kept my eyes on the sky. I remember one night when I was watching the stars with amusement (perhaps there were too many stars that night) and called my friend/son, Zakaria… told him to look up there. He told me that he used to lie down under the sky in Sudan watching the stars…. They seldom have clouds!

Sitting beside the driver, I love watching the sky and admiring the beauty of the different shades of blue and white here and there. I told my husband that I look at the sky as a large canvas … Allah’s work of art for He is the best artist. Such incredible blend of colours with different shapes of clouds. On that big canvas, sometimes, I can see islands and oceans, with many different animals, I sometimes can even see dinosour… how powerful are our imagination. I believe between those shades of blue and white, there are messages and signs for us to read. It is open for us to interpret and contemplate. Things are never straight forward ain’t it? And that is what makes life so interesting.

Wallahu a’lam.