Overwhelmed

 July is my favourite month of the year because it’s my birth month, the month named after Julius Caesar, the month where ruby, the king of precious gems, is the birthstone. I usually overindulge myself in July, I overspend to treat myself because hey, I deserve to and I’m worth it all and more.

This July though has been a mixture of challenges and frustration.

My dad was warded last Sunday for an injury for a couple of nights which happened a fortnight ago and left untreated because he could not be persuaded to go to the hospital when it happened. My sister and I first spent four hours at Ampang Puteri and after that slow unconvincing experience, had to rush out to get dad treated again. We decided to head for Gleneagles instead and spent another 2.5 hours there. The doctor managed to persuade dad to be warded and we had to return home to pack his medicine and clothes etc. He was discharged on Tuesday.

Yesterday, he had a fall and I had to summon all my strength to help lift him. The caregiver and I then brought him to Ampang Puteri and we spent almost the whole working day (09:30 to 16:20) there. X-ray revealed that the bone on his upper arm has a fracture.

Still, I am thankful that it was his left upper arm that is fractured and not his right arm as dad is right-handed. I’m thankful it happened to his arm and not his hips. Thankful that he didn’t suffer a concussion. Very thankful that it didn’t lead to a stroke. Thankful too that it happened when I was still at home and hadn’t left for work. Thankful he didn’t have to undergo surgery. Thankful he didn’t have to be warded. I have much to still be thankful for.

Just be easy on me for the rest of the year, please, Allah. Oh, and this month, my credit card statement will show that I had really been spending, paying for those hospital visits/stay and at what cost you may say. It’s true when they say health is wealth.

May Allah grant us good health and wealth, success, peace, iman, love, happiness and all the good things that we pray for. Amen.

Life Changes

 Dad had been going to the Health Clinic every fortnight to change his urine bag. He would usually suffer some pain after he came back from the clinic and the pain would last for a few days. On Wednesday, 23 March 2022, he went to change the urine bag as usual and when I came back from work, he said he was in so much pain the whole day. It was so bad he even passed motion a few times. It even continued until he no longer realised he was about to pass motion – maybe the muscles had gone weak.

 

Early the following morning, I found faeces by his bed and had to clean it up. I found the same thing repeated on Friday morning but this time, his bedsheet had also been soiled. I felt like crying but crying never helped in those situations so I picked up all the soiled clothing and proceeded to launder them. I also noticed that he had started to confuse his prayer steps. He then proceeded to doze off after morning prayers on Friday and I woke him up and told him to lie down. Well, he ended up sleeping until past 11 a.m. I consulted Akak and she told me to buy some adult diapers.

 

It continued through that weekend. He became weaker. It was shocking to see how rapid his health deteriorated. I turned to Mr Google and found some companies that offered doctors on call and after contacting with a few, managed to secure one to come on Saturday evening. I never knew before that we had doctors on call here. The doctor arrived late as he was detained at his previous visit. He told my sister that dad had an infection as evidence by the cloudy urine. He gave some antibiotics and advised for dad to switch to silicone catheter.

 

Dad remained weak throughout that weekend. Akak had informed the brothers and they suggested either getting an Indonesian helper or bringing dad to stay at Akak’s (‘smart ideas’ eh). Akak came across a couple of caregivers and asked me to contact them so I did. The first caregiver I contacted said he could help care after dad and after I had discussed with his wife (it’s a husband-and-wife venture), they agreed to pay a visit that Sunday afternoon. I had also contacted another caregiver and the person agreed to come that same evening but never showed up. I decided to give the first caregiver a three-day trial.

 

Well, I think it’s dad’s rezeki because the caregiver has so far shown that he’s trustworthy, patient and able to care for dad. Dad’s condition slowly improved, very slowly actually. He needed help the first ten days after he got ill – help getting into bed, help getting out of bed, help getting to and into the bathroom, help getting up from the toilet... he’s better now at getting into and out of bed but we have to hold on to him when he walks now. He has a good appetite but is always unable to finish his meals because he feels nauseous after a few bites. He still misses some rakaat and rituals in his prayers but he's still determined to keep on performing prayers. He would put any young and abled non-practising Muslims to shame with his determination.

 

I know he’s ready to go and I cannot stop it if Allah has deemed it’s time for him to go. But I can’t help wondering who would take care of me when he’s gone. Am I selfish for thinking about myself? Maybe. Still, I know I can’t make him feel bad about leaving me behind.

 

I haven’t been sleeping well for the past three weeks. It seems like my temporary new norm is to get up after 02:00 or 03:00 in the morning and not be able to sleep thereafter. It’s taking a toll on me. I insist on still going to work because I would go mental otherwise. I need social interaction and stimulation. I do the best I can, spend time with him and attend to him when I get home. I don’t see why I can’t let someone who’s better able and capable of caring my dad look after him while I’m at work. He needs the job and is doing us all a favour, and we need him to help dad and us. And as far as possible, I want some aspect of my life to continue as usual.

 

I now have to do a whole lot of things every morning before leaving for work. Previously, I’d have to get up in the middle of the night when he called out for me to help him go to the bathroom (he doesn’t do often anymore and yet I still wake up at ungodly hours for no reason at all). I cook him porridge, cook one or two vegetable dish, cook rice and sometimes boil water before leaving for work. I sweep the dining and kitchen areas every alternate days and run the laundry, hang the clothes and fold them when I get back from work. I help bring him to the bathroom to perform ablutions, heat up the food and serve dinner, empty out his urine bag, brush his dentures, put on his diapers after he’s gone to the toilet. Alhamdulillah it has been raining on some afternoons so at least I don’t have to spend too much time watering the plants. On weekends, I bathe him too. In short, I have to do a lot more multi-tasking and juggling chores.

 

I also have to spend a lot more on his care: adult diapers, silicone catheters, urine bags, nutritional drinks (to ensure he still gets his nutrition despite not being able to finish his meals). I now browse for adult diapers on Shopee!

 

Still, I am thankful. Thankful that he may be forgetful at times but not suffering from Alzheimer or trapped in his own world. He’s still lucid. I’m thankful that he can still walk slowly and not wheelchair bound. I’m thankful that I still get to perform prayers with him. I’m thankful that I’m still healthy and able myself to take care of him. Oh, my brothers still haven’t come back to visit. Why even bother having sons? Dad is doing much better now than he was twenty days ago but there are many things that he will no longer do liked drive out to get food or send me half-way every morning.

 

I know I haven’t been the best daughter. I’m rough, I’m not a ladylike girly girl who’s soft and gentle. I used to have a very short fuse but I’ve learned to be patient (still learning). I’m sorry that dad has to put up with me. Well, as of now I don’t have anyone that can help care for me so I still have to work to earn money that will help me hire some caregiver if I reach old age insyaAllah.

 

It’s hard work and I get so tired these days. I have lost weight, easily 2-3 kg. I need a break every now and then too and no one had better stop me or make me feel guilty for taking a well-deserved break. Even caregivers have their off days!

 

I pray that Allah will ease our affairs. Ameen.

The Year That Was: 2021

2021 followed from 2020 with the pandemic showing no signs of dying out; in fact it accelerated and we had to endure with continued restrictions. I know I’m not alone in facing the trials, challenges, headaches, frustration and anger. It was another testing, trying, tiring year but at least we were in it together and while it’s no consolation, I know there were others in much worse situation. Dad showed further signs of slowing down and health deterioration but I suppose for his age and health challenges, he did pretty well. If I can say anything positive about the pandemic, it’s that it taught us to be more patient, resilient and grateful for what we have.

The political situation escalated into cringe-worthy episodes which were so frankly embarrassing and just serve to show how clueless and thoughtless those in charge with leading the country are. Meanwhile, more people tested positive and more Covid deaths took place, including my dad’s younger cousin and some high school seniors and juniors. The common people were given different treatment than those who were connected. It just shows how sick things have got in this country.

Each day brings me further away from Mummy. I still miss her with such intensity that hurts to this day.

Conflicts and war continued in Syria, Yemen, Palestine, India, Kashmir, Myanmar and other countries. Oppression continued in China against the Uyghurs and the world continued to stand aside in silence.

 

There were natural catastrophes too and the worst of the floods hit a few states with the politicians proving themselves further unprepared to face the disaster. A few cases of stupidity resulted which was shown abroad too like stopping an ambulance to let some VVIP cars pass through and cleaning of already cleaned drains of bird and lizard dropping. Seriously WTF.

After the inter-district and then interstate travel restrictions were lifted, I managed to make a few trips as follows:

 

September: took the train to Kuala Kubu Bharu

October: took local transportation to Kuala Selangor and then took the train to Tanjung Malim

November: took the train to Pulau Sebang/Tampin on one Saturday, the bus to Raub on another Saturday and then spent a weekend in Port Dickson with the family

December: spent a weekend in Penang and then flew to Labuan on Christmas Day.

 

Alhamdulillah.

 

It continued being a hard year for any Arsenal supporter and the new season didn’t start off promising at all. Auba was stripped of the captaincy in mid-December. The young Guns are showing promises but our record against the big clubs continued to be poor.

 

I managed to read 154 books in 2021, Alhamdulillah.

 

I went for an occasional morning walk and had taken to picking rubbish along the highway at the start of my walks. I had cut down somewhat on junk food and will continue to try eat healthily.

 

Happy New Year 2022. May this year be a better and kinder year for us all. May we be strong to face come what may, insyaAllah, and may Allah keep us safe in His care and bless us. Ameen.

Cool Kids

There’s a FB group ‘Nostalgia di SBP’ (or Nostalgia at Boarding School) and I read some of the posts out of curiosity (I’m hardly on FB as it is, I spend 15 minutes a day on it tops). A mate of mine had written some posts to the group too. The few posts I read made me think back of my life at boarding school.

I wasn’t a brilliant student, I found out very quickly that there were some seriously clever and brilliant girls in my class and within our batch. And I could’ve scored good marks but some subjects like Arabic, Art and Domestic Science were the bane of my lower secondary life (funnily enough, I scored an A1 in Domestic Science even though I did somehow manage to sleep during the trial exam until my friend woke me up because there was a correction to the question paper). I was never a sportsgirl and never an athlete (I could barely run to save my life, I just didn’t and still don’t have the stamina), in fact I didn’t enjoy any of the games or sport (I could cheer loudly though). I was never in any drama (be it English or Malay) competition (I have stage fright) or dancing competition either (I have two left feet). I wasn’t in either the band or cadet, wasn’t in the choir group. In short, I was just an average girl trying to fit in, at times in awe (but not envious) of other girls from more privileged background. My dad was approaching retirement and we didn’t have much to spend on branded goods then. So I was donning boring unfashionable clothes and I had a simple haircut. Then again, back then, in those days, not many things were fashionable anyway.

I was not any one of the cool kids. I wasn’t popular, I wasn’t in any clique (thank God!), I wasn’t at all cool. I never had any correspondent with a boy from another boarding school except for one very brief exchange of letters which I didn’t pursue. I was not a prefect. I did enjoy my lessons in upper secondary (I did have to bear with Arabic for another year though) and really loved Modern and Additional Maths subjects. I chose Social Science class as I was definitely not going to be in a pure Science class.

I broke some rules when I was in upper secondary. I was a latecomer many times and had to pay the fine when I was in Form 5 because I slept through the alarm and all the noise and racket around me (maybe someone did try to wake me up but I slept too deeply and soundly through it all). I skipped some physical education classes and hid in the drama props room with some mates. I forged Mummy’s signature so that I could join others and follow my friend back to her aunt’s place. So I wasn’t exactly an angel but apart from PE, I never skipped any other class (even Arabic).

I had fun at boarding school; I didn’t dread either going back home or returning to school after school holidays ended. I had friends, I enjoyed my classes especially in upper secondary. I was neither a goodie, nor was I a baddie.

Like I said, I wasn’t one of the cool kids then but I still fit in somehow. And anyway, people shouldn’t be too fixated about wanting to fit in (or trying to at least for some people). We may not know it when we were adolescents but I should hope we’re all comfortable and secure in our skin by now. And in our own way, we’re actually cool now precisely because we develop self-confidence, gain life experience and overcome life challenges as we grow.

500+ Days of Sameness

 

In case you’re wondering, it has been 523 days today since 18 March 2020 when the movement control order was imposed. It has been a long boring ride with nowhere in sight and seemingly no light at the end of it. You’re forgiven for losing track of time/day/week/month. It’s the same thing every day: wear a mask when you’re out and about, wash or sanitise your hands, observe distancing, travel restriction, and at the same time having to bear the ridiculousness of the Malaysian politics and different standards.

 

August hasn’t been an august month after all what with the political drama, escalating Covid cases, police intimidation and brutality, and poor Arsenal pre-season and opening two matches. Ugh!

 

I had my second dose of vaccination on Friday the 13^th and was happy to take it easy the following day. I had a mild headache which could be due to many factors: I didn’t manage to eat much before my vaccination; it was a hot, hot Friday the 13^th; the vaccine itself; or what I thought was PMS. I felt sufficiently better on Sunday to go for a 5.1km walk. I set off with two plastic bags and picked up rubbish along the highway. It’s disgusting how irresponsible and thoughtless Malaysians are when it comes to disposing their rubbish. Rubbish to the core!

 

Anyway, alhamdulillah, everyone in my close family (that’s me and dad, and my sister and her family) has been vaccinated. Munchkin nephew finally got his first dose by walk-in at Movenpick Hotel in Sepang (yesterday was the last day the vaccine centre operated at Movenpick before it moves to Multimedia University). Turned out that nephew was afraid of being jabbed. He had earlier got an appointment for AstraZeneca at PWTC (which he didn’t apply for) but he was having his exam then and had to decline it. And somehow MySejahtera never updated and rescheduled his appointment.

 

It’s hard to see when this nightmare will end when the Delta variant is spreading so quickly. Let’s hope it won’t take another 500 days before we’re rid of this menace!

It's A Struggle

A lot of people find it a struggle trying to survive these days.

Some people lost hope and decided to end their lives.

Some have to resort to begging, while others to stealing. Previously, shoplifters and thieves stole high-value items but now people shoplift fish, vegetables, and bread to name a few.

Some struggle with office work, housework and caring for their children, spouse or elderly parents.

Some struggle to stay sane.

Some struggle to survive staying locked up at home with an abuser.

Some struggle to learn, gain knowledge or educate themselves either due to lack of devices or poor network coverage.

Some have to go to work and expose themselves to risk of contracting Covid.

Some are burnt out and overworked.

Hospitals are full and operating beyond capacity. The doctors and nurses have to choose who to save first.

And yet, and yet.

We still have world class idiots in power.

51 weeks ago, my family and I were lucky enough to be able to go to Port Dickson (not even Paris!) and 51 weeks later, we’re stuck in limbo.

It’s a struggle trying to be optimistic in the face of all these and the never-ending lockdown with the end nowhere in sight. Ya Allah, please have mercy on us and help us remove all these incompetent Covidiots from office, ameen.

~~~~~~~

I was surprised but happy when I saw on IG last Friday that Isetan had reopened its stores (not just the Foodmarket). I headed to Isetan KLCC during lunch on the same day and happily browsed the deserted store (I was the only customer at the first floor). There were fewer sales assistants as some stay in lockdown areas and were unable to travel to work. I got to chatting with the friendly Floor Manager and she told me they were happy to reopen the stores as they missed meeting and interacting with customers too. She also said that even her elderly mother also felt it stifling to stay home all the time. We are only humans, we crave and starve for human contact and interaction. I told her this is the best time to shop for anything as the shopping malls are empty. Alas, on Saturday evening, I saw the IG story that the other Isetan departments have been temporarily closed again. Sigh. That sure didn’t last long. I guess browsing at groceries will be the extent of my retail therapy for now.

Tubthumping

 

We’ll get locked down, but we’ll get up again

You are never gonna keep us down

We’ll get locked down, but we’ll get up again

You are never gonna keep us down

 

Screw you, COVID-10, all the incompetent politicians and all those stubborn Covidiots who still went back to their hometown for Eid and helped make the situation worse than it ever was. Screw the application process for the vaccination which made feel like I was going to war, frantically trying to secure a slot for myself. Alhamdulillah, I managed to do that within minutes but many of my colleagues didn’t manage to. A mate likened it to Hunger Games (I didn’t watch the movie but a colleague forced the trilogy on me and telling myself to keep an open mind, I read them all).

 

Stay safe, stay well, stay healthy and stay sane, everyone. Oh, and stay home too. Good luck to us all with our respective issues and challenges. May Allah ease our affairs, amen. And may Allah punish those useless politicians who couldn’t make up their mind on the best course of action for the country and its people, and those Covidiots for leaving death in their wake.

Ramadan Rant

 

Well, it goes without saying that Ramadan and Eid this year is different than the usual and as much as we’re to adopt the new normal, I sure hope it won’t be that for future Ramadans and Eids. And all because of the incompetence and sheer cluelessness of those in power. So they declared political emergency to curb the spread of the pandemic and we’re in May and the pandemic is spiking! Serious FAILURE. And it all started from the politician who thought he had enough votes to win back Sabah and then the whole circus of Sabah election took place and next thing we knew, the numbers increased by leaps and bounds.

 

Of course, Selangor is the next state to fall victim and is still the state with the highest daily numbers (you’d expect that for the most populous state in the country which has the highest number of industries and the corresponding foreign workers). And now we have the Indian and South African variants amongst our midst, so kudos! Well done, Malaysia. From a so-called success story, we have fallen so low. We are probably the only country with variants of MCO and the ever-changing confusing SOP.

 

And in other news, we have a teenager who dared speak out on inappropriate rape jokes made by a teacher and it’s not just students, female teachers also face sexual harassment too from our male Malaysian teachers. Is nothing sacred anymore? Can’t a child go to school without worrying that she’d be exposed to kind of disgusting diabolical behaviour by her teacher? And instead of being able to feel safe, the school is threatening to expel her from her absence from school while at the same time not taking any action towards the scum and the child’s classmate who also threaten to rape her. What in the world is Malaysia coming to??? And the ignorant clueless Minister is deathly silent on this so far. It’s enough to make your head spin. 2021 and we still have to live in fear of the beasts around us.

 

And the violence that is happening in Jerusalem...it breaks my heart. Is any of the Arab countries doing anything at all to help our brothers and sisters there?

 

No, it is definitely not a normal Ramadan. Please spare some thoughts and prayers to all those oppressed in Palestine, Syria, Myanmar and Yemen and those caught in civil wars in other countries.

 

For what it’s worth, Eid Mubarak everyone.

Ups And Downs

 

We all have ups and downs in our lives on an ongoing basis. Some of us choose to view life positively and have an attitude of gratitude while some can’t stop moaning about the cards they’re dealt in life. While it’s better to be in the company of someone who refuses to let life trials to bring him down and it’s tiring and exhausting to listen to someone who can’t stop complaining about not being given enough break in life, life is not a bed of roses either and s**t happens. So why aren’t we giving enough due to the fact that we can’t be happy all the time? As Sarah Steckler mentions here, true happiness isn’t the act of choosing to be happy, it’s the art and allowance of accepting human emotions, observing them and being okay with them being a part of our lives.

 

Susan David mentions the tyranny of positivity. We’re encouraged to feel bad about being negative. But why? Why should we be denied from acknowledging that not everything goes the way we plan and want? Why should we deny ourselves from being comfortable and from dealing with the full range of our emotions?

 

It’s time we recognise we should acknowledge and deal with our feelings and emotions. If life sucks, we should all write an Ingratitude List. We should stop trying to pretend we’re not in pain when we are. Count our blessings of course and at the same time acknowledge that ignoring our anger and sadness with gratitude lists doesn’t make them disappear. If anything, an ingratitude list gives direction, focus and helps one move away from shame towards acceptance and action.

Me Before You

 

I did have feelings for you. The thing is (besides having problems expressing it – funny, when I can really express myself and have an expressive face) I love myself first before I could give my love to someone else. It was just because I had gone through so much shit before. I have trust issues. I have fear of abandonment. I don’t fear new opportunities, new love or new vulnerability but I do fear old pain. I have to fix myself first before I could be with anyone else. I have to heal myself first. Be with myself. Spend time just by myself. Be kind to myself. It was nothing personal. I had to do it for me because I have to treat myself as priority. I had to spend time on myself first. And that was it. That’s why it didn’t work out with you and with the others. Why things fell apart.

 

Sometimes you just have to block everyone else out first to fix what is broken inside of you. Sometimes it really is not about anyone else but you. And sometimes you just have to give yourself all the attention you need, spend time with yourself and invest in yourself before giving yourself to someone else.

 

As @SteveBartlettSC put it: I’m nowhere near my potential yet. I realise that. So right now, I am my focus and priority. If you add to my life, you’re welcome to stay. If not, I’m good and I’ll wait. There’s no gratitude greater than taking care of yourself. Being selective about how you spend your time and who you spend your time with is a sign of self-respect. The healthiest foundation for any relationship is one where you want someone, but aren’t depending on them to complete you. Complete yourself and then go and have a healthy relationship with someone who doesn’t need you to complete them either. You won’t have a healthy relationship with someone else if you have a toxic relationship with yourself. Stop searching for the right person and focus on becoming the right person. Your first priority has to be you. Invest in, chase and impress yourself before you invest in, chase and try to impress anyone else. If you can’t find happiness alone, you’ll struggle to find it with someone else.

 

So yes, I’m gonna put myself before anyone else first. Me before you.

When Love Means Nothing

 

It seems that we suddenly find ourselves in the end of February (wherever did the time go?!). February, the month of love and romance, and at least for this year, also the month for the Australian Open.

 

Love means nothing? Well, yes, in tennis at least. One theory is that the tennis term is derived from the French word l’oeuf where oeuf means egg. Apparently, when the game was imported into France from England, the French used the word l’oeuf to mean ‘zero’, due to the resemblance of an egg to the written figure 0 - indeed, even in Malay, if you have nothing, a score of zero, the joke is you have an egg. At least two of the Treasure Hunts I’d been on had this in the questions.

Speaking of love, I can't quite get over my love (lust?) for bags. And this love does mean something.

The Year That Was: 2020

 

We all know how challenging 2020 was so I don’t really want to talk too much about it. What started off as a promising year turned out to be such an anomaly, an outlier, it completed changed our lives. I just hope everyone has learnt not to put too much hope or expect too much from 2021 because the road to recovery seems still a far distance away. If I had thought 2019 was bad, well, 2020 sure surpassed it.

 

But I learnt to be even more grateful of what I have and while yes I still have my own issues and problems, some of them pale in comparison to what some others face (of course I have always known and noticed this and not only just realised it. I’m not that self-absorbed!). I was in awe at the hard work by some selfless individuals (Ustaz Ebit Liew, Uncle Kentang, just to name a couple of them) and I found myself shopping less and contributing more to causes. I tried to eat more healthily (yes, I still have my craving for junk food) and managed to reduce my cholesterol level down, I managed to maintain my weight and I made sure I continued to attend physiotherapy sessions to treat my scoliosis. My therapist had told me that I should not be jogging, running, jumping or skipping so I have to do a lot more walking now (a bit difficult when there was a strict restriction of movement for three months). I still can’t really be bothered to learn how to cook as I dislike spending and don’t want to stand too long in the kitchen. Despite the pandemic, I have yet to place any food order via Food Panda Grab Food, believe it or not. And I still prefer going and doing my physical shopping for groceries and browsing the pharmacies. Nothing beats interacting with the pharmacists in deciding the best supplements to buy.

 

I somehow managed to squeeze in trips right before the MCO and after it was relaxed (before the needless Sabah election following which we see runway number of daily cases), Alhamdulillah:

 

January: Flew to Surat Thani on the eve of Chinese New Year

February: Flew to Tanjung Pandan at month-end

March: Came back from Tanjung Pandan

April: Was supposed to go on a short trip to Kota Bharu

May: Was supposed to fly to a new country

June: Didn’t manage any trip

July: Went to Georgetown, Penang, Kuala Kangsar and Lenggong, and Port Dickson/Melaka

August: Overnight trip to Kuala Lipis

September: Spent a weekend at Tanjong Jara Resort with my niece

October - December: Did not travel

 

I even managed two trips to Genting Highlands Premium Outlets during the year!

 

Arsenal continued to both frustrate and delight me as I suppose they will continue to be. I actually found myself watching more tennis last year compared to football. Yes, Arsenal gave me so much pain at times.

 

I managed to read 152 books in 2020 despite the heavier workload and I hope to keep my annual target of 150 this year, insyaAllah.

 

Felice Anno Nuovo and happy new decade (and no, contrary to what many think, 2020 was not the start of a new decade). Andrà tutto bene, insyaAllah.

Waiting To Exhale

 

Well, I guess it’s inevitable not to talk about the year, or rather, the past nine months. 2020 has undoubtedly been a very challenging year in all sense of the word. It’s been a testing, trying, tiring year for everyone. It’s been a year of trials and tribulations. I don’t think anyone escaped unscathed, I don’t think anyone was spared or unaffected in some way. And while it’s all too easy to just focus on the negatives, let’s instead look at the positives that we can draw from our experiences these past few months. Yes, this may be one of the hardest years for us, but it is also the greatest in terms of helping us learn how to:

- Be humble

- Be kind. Act, talk and think kindly. In fact, be overly kind

- Be mindful

- Be patient

- Empathise with others

- Eliminate toxic people 

- Find who our real friends are 

- Take care of our health

- Manage our effort, money and time wisely

- Focus on the things that matter.

 

I hope you haven’t been putting unnecessary pressure on yourself to learn a new skill, lose weight, run a half-marathon or become a ‘better’ person. Just getting through this shit is more than enough. Remove the junk from your mental diet by limiting time on social media, limiting time watching news and instead investing that time into things that make you feel good. Prioritise your mental health. If taking care of yourself means being a little more selfish, taking a mental health day or even letting someone down, then please let someone down. Your self-love must always be stronger than your desire to be loved by others. Set clear boundaries in work, life and your relationships. The most important form of self-care you can practise is unapologetically protecting your boundaries. Contrast your life in the right direction. If you focus on the life you’ve lost, you’ll soon find misery. If you focus on the life you have, you’ll soon find happiness. Remember that all of life’s seasons are temporary. Your brightest moments are temporary so enjoy them while the sun is shining. Your darkest moments are also temporary, so never give up when it’s raining. Remember, this too shall pass.

So even if you haven’t learnt a new skill, mastered a new language or achieved your resolutions and goals, if you have even managed to implement some of what I mentioned in the preceding paragraph, then 2020 won’t be in vain and won’t be for nothing. If we can find something to learn even in adversity and challenging times, it’s not all lost, is it? The truth is that bad experiences and bad people often teach us more than good times and good people. The most toxic unpleasant people in our lives end up making us kinder, wiser and more empathetic. The hardest times make us stronger, smarter and better prepared for tomorrow.

You should be proud of everything you’ve had to overcome this year. The pain, loss, self-doubt, fights, mental health struggles, and many sleepless nights where you didn’t know if you could make it. You’ve made it here. And you will make it through. Keep going. Be proud of yourself! And guess what? 2021 might even be harder so brace yourselves. Hey, we made it through 2020 (almost). InsyaAllah we’ll make it. Be patient. Persevere. Pray to God.

Things That Go Bump In The Night

 

My dad has been warded for the past week due to endophthalmitis. I would visit him on most evenings after work and then my sister would give me a ride back home.

 

We came home last Wednesday evening to find a door of one of our two gates opened and swung out (we usually swing the doors in). It had rained earlier so I was inclined to think the wind accompanying the wind must’ve been strong enough to swing the door open. I mean, a burglar wouldn’t be so stupid as to leave the gate opened, would he. Nevertheless, my brother-in-law went to check the garden.

 

After they left, I started hearing noises. I can’t tell you if those noises were the usual noises that I hear (was pretty sure they came from outside the house) so I took to peering out of the window on the lookout for any prowlers.

 

I fell asleep while doing my exercise (I was just too knackered) and woke up after midnight to go to bed. Barely an hour later, I heard what sounded like my bedroom banging loudly and it woke me up. I opened my eyes and looked at the door. It didn’t look like anyone was on the other side of the door and trying to enter the room. After a while, I got up and went to check. Everything was still. It wasn’t raining and there was no wind that usually accompanies rain to bang the door. So what was it that I heard then? Was I dreaming so vividly or was I hallucinating (somehow in my dreams)? Or was I just spooked from the opened gate door that it disturbed my dream?

 

Then on Friday night (or Saturday early morning), I dreamt and then felt a heavy presence in the room which proceeded to descend upon the bed next to me. I somehow sensed this presence reaching out towards me and I could feel the heaviness of it all slowly weighing down. I woke up and loudly recited ayat Qursi. After a while, I declared syahadah and then even called out the azan. Strangely enough, I didn’t feel spooked or scared, my heart wasn’t pounding crazily, I didn’t feel any cold sweat or goose-bumps or like anyone walking over my bed. I didn’t shiver, didn’t feel like wetting myself or releasing my bladder as I would’ve expected (not that I wanted to!) of course. I did have that images of those horror movies where you see casts being pulled and dragged by evil spirits or ghosts or whatever. Somehow though, I was unusually calm and had this thought that Allah is with me and He would protect me so that thing had better not mess with me. It did take me some time to fall asleep again though and I never looked at the other side of the bed.

 

My sister suggested I play ayat Ruqyah and I’ve been doing that since the weekend. I woke up at 03:20 yesterday morning for no reason and had problems sleeping again. I probably managed a brief kip and dreamt a burglar was in the house and in the bathroom. I remember calling out ‘HELP’ and then imprisoning the burglar in the bathroom and in my dream even wondered what I would do next. OK, maybe squirt some shampoo into his eyes when I summoned up the courage to open the bathroom?

 

I still hear the occasional noises, but I don’t know if they’re creaks from an almost 52-year old house or wild animals on the roof. Anyway, like I said, Allah is with us and He will protect us if we turn to Him, insyaAllah. I do need to play my part too in defending myself.

Gotta Get Thru This

It’s been months since I last saw you. It’s been months since those blissful days. And it’s been months now that I have stopped taking things for granted.

It certainly has been a long time since I last saw you, my mask-less days. My travel days. Those halcyon days that I took for granted where I can walk without having to carry hand sanitiser, where I can go anywhere without having to bring my own prayer attire and prayer mat, where I can go anywhere without having to scan QR code, having my temperature taken, writing down details, etc. And yes, before you say it, I know that it’s not just me who has to go through all these. Everyone does.

 

And, just when we think things can’t get any worse, they do. Just as we’re adjusting reluctantly to the new abnormal and thought the curve has flattened, new cases surged back. Just as we start embracing the idea of getting to know Malaysia all over again and planning trips, we are now subjected to conditional MCO which prohibits even inter-district travel (and just yesterday morning I was pondering where to go this weekend!).

 

I’m really cursing those covidiots who helped aggravate the situation further, the double standard and the weak leadership. Some people were quick to criticise Selangor for the water cut a month ago (conveniently forgetting that Kelantan has yet to solve its decades-long water problem!) but fail to question the weak leadership and the double standards. Fie on you.

 

Well, we somehow managed to get through the long MCO previously. We’ll get through this again, insyaAllah. We are tough, determined, courageous, spirited and strong together and we will take care of each other (because you can't expect the government to do that for you). We won’t let COVID-19 get the better of us and rule our lives, we won’t let it batter our self-resilience and knock us down. We may stumble and fall but we will pick ourselves up again, keep calm and carry on as best as we can. And we shall overcome it, with God’s grace and will, ameen.

 

Stay healthy, safe and strong, everyone.

The Art Of War

It started with a recipe request by a friend to another who obliged her by sharing it with the group. Another friend made a pie and shared a photo of the finished product and even how to make it using Thermomix. Pretty soon, others started joining in and suffice to say for the whole of Ramadan, we had peach pies galore as our batch took up and created this accidental challenge. Before we knew it, suddenly there was a competition among us, yes, an inter-house competition. My house, Blue House (Tun Fatimah) was lagging together with Red House. Our Yellow House friends were well ahead and after a while, Green House members started catching up. The competition was friendly and those ahead were mocking those of us from the two houses which were lagging. I was content to watch for the sidelines for a while before I decided to join in.

Then my BFF, C, told me that she and a few others had created another group just for Blue House members and she asked me to join in. They planned to do their pies on Raya eve and flood the group with pictures of our pies then. I told her I dared not promise that I would produce a pie and for her to go ahead. I did, however, buy some Digestive biscuits, two tins of peaches and then scour the nearest supermarket and the two grocery stores for whipping cream. Yes, me, who had never whipped whipping cream in my entire life and had to practically google the difference between whipping cream and cooking cream. Oh, and I don’t even own a whisk or mixer so I searched and watched some YouTube clips on how to produce whipping cream without those kitchen tools. 

After working outdoors and mopping the house that Saturday morning, I started draining the pies before slicing and arranging them on a dinner plate. Next, I put half a packet of Digestive biscuits into a ziplock bag and used a rolling pin to crush them. I then mixed the crushed biscuits with some melted butter and patted the mixture into a pie dish. Having done that, I then poured an estimate of 500 ml of whipping cream into a glass bottle recycled from Korean Honey Pomegranate Tea and chilled overnight and started shaking the bottle. It took me more than fifteen minutes shaking the bottle and I must admit that I was actually surprised when I managed to produce the whipping cream successfully using pure elbow grease. Alhamdulillah. I then poured the whipping cream onto the biscuit base in the pie dish and chilled the pie before arranging the peaches on the pie an hour later. Having completed my pie, I then snapped some photos and shared them with my mate and then the Blue House group (my friend quickly added me into the group). I then suggested we called ourselves the Blues Gang and suggested we use the song ‘I’m Blue’ by Eiffel 65.

Main ingredients

Peaches all sliced up and arranged, ‘TF’ for Tun Fatimah (not T-- Foxy, heh!)

 in the middle

My final product. Decided to use props. Koala was wearing a blue necklace and blue brooch. I lack blue accessories!

Must say I was proud I managed to produce this

That evening saw us sending and bombarding our peach pie photos to the main group and Blue House emerged the Raya eve leaders. A Blue House mate even produced two short video clips of our pies and posted them the same evening (she subsequently produced two longer video clips, one with the soundtrack ‘True Blue’ and the other ‘I’m Blue’. And the other houses of course decided to copy cat us). My friend who shared the recipe was so surprised by this unanticipated unexpected ‘attack’ by the Blue House members but her dad, a former Royal Air Force Commander and pilot, was very impressed with our tactics.

The peach pie challenge lasted for one month, from 27 April to 27 May 2020, and saw entries from as far away as Houston, England and Doha, and Kota Kinabalu and Kuching. At the end of the challenge, 94 of us produced a whooping total of 153 peach pies, much to the amazement and delight of our family members. It was a good thing I did mine on Raya eve so I could whip it out to serve to my sister and family on Eid. My nephew claimed it was the best thing I did (not that I’ve done much for I’m not one who care to spend time in the kitchen). I did produce my own homemade ice-cream with the remainder of whipping cream.

And guess what, there was even an awards night on 30 May 2020. Yes, you read it right. My friend, the recipe owner, invited two guest judges (one of them Kaer Azami - of course I didn’t know anything about him as I don’t follow the local music scene) and the sponsored presents are from a leather house owned by Kaer. The awards night was held over Webex and Facebook Live with performances by the receipe owner’s father, son and daughter (one song each) and Kaer too. Who would have thought that the pie challenge would be such an event!

Blue House did not win the House with the Most Peach Pies (Yellow House), Picture Perfect Pie (someone from Yellow House) or Most Artistic Pie (my mate from Red House), but we won the Most Non-Compliant Pie, House with Most ‘Kayangan’ Cluster (Kluster Kayangan) Pies, House with the Most Kiasu Team Leader and the Best Peach Pie 2020 (our dormmate did it on her first attempt!).

Safe to say that we had a peachy time and that the Kurshian competitive spirit still lives on within us.

And what did I learn from all this seemingly simple experience? Well, it taught me the principles of The Art of War of course. Of course Blue House did not win the Most Peach Pies award but we swept four awards because our team leader calculated our chances of victory (we did emerge the victor on the eve of Eid and took everyone by surprise). We laid our plans and then we waged our war by limiting conflict among ourselves, instead focusing on our goal. We then attacked on the eve of Eid. Individually, we may not be strong or confident enough to share the photos of our finished pie but united and together, we were strong enough. After Eid, we tried to recruit a few more of our Blue House members but some were not able to commit. We still managed to finish runners-up and not let Green House (boo!) overtake us. Because we started fairly late and lagging behind the others, we used our creativity and timing to build our momentum and we gained ideas from others. Our opportunity to emerge victor on the eve of Eid came because the others and especially the then leaders did not anticipate our attack and were not able to respond then - although they did manage to regain their standing after Eid but we should all should appreciate that it’s more difficult to initiate, strategise, coordinate and execute an action than it is to react (reacting is natural, initiating is not). It wouldn’t have been possible without a leader nor would it be possible without the others’ agreement, commitment, dedication and unity.

We also tried hard not to draw others’ anger and ire towards us and our strategy and we succeeded. We tried to be flexible and hence anticipated the counter attack by Yellow House and although they outnumbered us in the number of pies produced, we concentrated on persuading other Blue House members to participate. We were also aware of Green House members who were close on our heels and breathing down our necks. It had become an open ‘battle’ towards the end.

Who would have known it would blow out to a large-scale live event, the Restriction of Movement Order period notwithstanding? Who would have thought that what started off as a peach pie challenge can teach us all about The Art of War (if we care to analyse it)? Whatever the rest of the world wants to label us by, we proved again that we are not just girls who just wanna have fun. And I proved to myself I could do a peach pie on my first attempt even though I used elbow grease to produce the whipping cream (some of my friends overwhipped their whipping cream - and they have proper kitchen tools).

Pakistan: Pre-Departure And Afterthought

I relied on Kayak and then Skyscanner before purchasing my tickets. You could fly Malindo from KL all the way to Lahore but I wasn’t keen on flying that airlines. You could also fly Emirates and Qatar to Pakistan. I decided to fly Thai Airways as it was the most economical but I wasn’t impressed with the airline. Smooth as silk? Hmph! I also searched the airlines to get from Lahore to Karachi and found there are three: PIA, Serene and Air Blue. Again, I settled on PIA mainly because it was the most economical and also because of the more favourable the timing.

Malaysians need visa to enter Pakistan. I got confused at first as I wasn’t sure if I also needed a Letter of Introduction and finally rang the High Commission in KL. They are not the most efficient people when it comes to picking up phone calls and finally I told myself I would just hang on until someone picked up and someone finally did at long last. She asked me some questions and if I were travelling with a group or on tour and when I said I was alone, she said I didn’t need any Letter of Introduction. The same day, I ran into a colleague who travelled to Pakistan in August and he told me I needed the Letter of Introduction and that I might even be interviewed. So the same afternoon, I rang the High Commission again to ask and was again informed that I didn’t need it. I would have to fill up the visa application form so I Googled and downloaded the form. The visa application submission is from 09:30 to 12:00 and collection is from 16:00 to 17:00. You also need two passport-sized photos for the visa so I had to take some photo and of course, no shop sells a set of two photos so like it or not, you have to pay for a set of six photos.

At the same time, I also rang up a travel agency and ask if they could help me with the visa application. They were not too sure about it but said they charged RM30 and that I would still have to go to the High Commission in person. When I rang, the person at the High Commission told me there was no charge for the visa so I thought I might as well apply for the visa myself. I spent an hour on Sunday preparing the visa form. There is a section that asked for the countries visited in the past two years and I had to rely on my blog to list down the countries. You can also apply for visa online and on arrival but I saw the part about uploading photo and recalled the problem I had when trying to apply for Indian visa online so I decided to do it in person. I would be arriving Islamabad late in the evening and hence did not fancy applying for visa upon arrival (although I did this for Bangladeshi visa).

I also searched the bus operators for the Islamabad-Lahore route and then the Daewoo schedules for the trip to Mardan and Jhelum (turned out there was no 09:00 bus to the former anyway) and the accommodation. Shaj had advised me to stay in Defence Housing Authority (DHA) area in Islamabad as it is safer but in the end, I chose Khyber Lodge 2 in Islamabad as it was the nearest to the airport (I was arriving late at night anyway) and Daewoo Express Bus Terminal. I chose MaryLeena Hotel Gulberg in Lahore as it had good reviews from previous guests (!) and Karachi Motel 1 as it is the nearest to Karachi Airport.

I purposely chose to visit Islamabad/Rawalpindi, Lahore and Karachi (and the side trips) instead of Swat Valley or Peshawar because it was winter. I would love to return one day and visit the mountains and rivers but probably in spring or autumn. I also managed to visit five out of Pakistan's six UNESCO World Heritage Sites. Alhamdulillah.

I brought USD to Pakistan. I found that I could purchase PKR in KL but when I calculated, I would get less Rupees compared to bringing USD and purchasing PKR when I was there. I didn’t notice money changers there except at the airports but then again, I hardly went to Islamabad and Lahore downtown.

I had heard of people getting diarrhoea over there so I brought some anti-diarrhoea medication, ORS, carbon pills and paracetamol in addition to my supplements. I brought some cereal drink but there was no kettle provided in the hotel rooms. My mate even got diarrhoea from eating in a hotel (they mixed any unfinished drink back into the bottle/jug so if you buy water over there, make sure it’s an unsealed bottle) because the food hygiene awareness over there is still low. I brought over some food to tide me over. Thankfully I didn’t get endlessly hungry when I was there and could survive on little food. I just didn’t to purchase food there, heck, I even had food poisoning in London OK! So yes, I must admit to not sampling the local fare after knowing how low the food hygiene awareness is over there. I’ve had bad food poisoning episodes when travelling - Myanmar, Jakarta, London - so I wasn’t keen to add to that.

Pakistan is a poor country which is a shame as the country obtained independence at the same time as India. It was founded in violence and chaos and the situation didn’t look to have improved much. I had expected friendlier people - I had read some locals would offer foreigners to stay with them at no charge and that they would be offering to buy you tea but apart from a few men offering to buy me tea, I didn’t find the locals all that friendly. Sure, I did manage to get help from some locals after boldly approaching them (this is not something I’m comfortable with, I really had to step out of my comfort zone) but most times, I had to approach them instead of people coming up to offer to help (except when it was for paid service like tuktuk or taxi rides). I think Bangladeshis were much friendlier (Pakistan may be poor but it is still richer than Bangladesh). I was also surprised to find that not as many people speak English as I expected and in Lahore (Punjab), not many do even the younger people. And how flexible is shalwar kameez?? I saw men in shalwar kameez playing cricket, building houses, working in their fields, etc! I didn’t manage to buy a pair for myself though. And I just realised that shalwar (the trousers) and kameez (the top/tunic) probably share the same root word as seluar and kemeja (trousers and shirt in Malay) .

I would love to return to Pakistan and explore its breathtaking mountains, lakes and rivers. Although I’m sure these places being remote, would have fewer facilities or if there are, less maintained facilities. And the locals would likely speak less English, heck, I even had problems talking to the locals in Lahore. And oh, I would so love to visit Mohenjo-daro.