Facts About Free Speech.

In wake of the hu-has about a controversial film insulting Prophet Muhammad (PBUH), writer Yasmin Mogahed wrote something that I entirely agree with.

Quoted from her FB status:

Insult African Americans, and it is called "Racism".
Insult Jewish People, and it is called "anti-Semitism".
Insult women, and it is called "sexism".
Insult homosexuals, and it is called "intolerance".
Insult your country, and it is called "extremism".
Insult Muhammad (PBUH), and it is called "free speech".

True indeed.

So in reality, free speech is really very selective, isn't it.

Ageing

An old friend of mine came over today with her kids. She's heavily pregnant, 30-something, beauuuutiful still (even 'hawt' when she isn't pregnant). We spoke about Raya and she had a good laugh about a picture of us a friend had uploaded onto FB.

Reason being? She said we looked terribly old.

I countered by saying I thought we looked fine. I actually honestly did. Not too fat, no wardrobe malfunctions in the forms of exposed bra straps or hiked-up skirts (good God), and no smudgy makeups reminiscent of the good ol' clubbing days of runny eyeliners and mascaras (goodness, no no no).

But she said, noooooo, we did NOT look fine.

Such 'healthy' girls (size-wise, really), who really looked 30-something already.

Errr. Okay..

Correct me if I'm wrong but are 30-somethings supposed to look like 20-somethings..?

Mmmm maybe in a land far far away from my world. Like Hollywood maybe?

It is odd how cynical people get about ageing.

This one's in memories of;

Ninie, eternally 25.
Saleem, eternally 20.
Faisal Latiff, eternally 19.
Najib, eternally 26.

And many other forgotten ones. Young always. Al-Fatihah.

*Image from google.

Confession of a Hippie Wannabe

Confession. I've always had hippie tendencies. Save the world. Save paper. Recycle. Save water. Reuse. Upcycle. Hug trees. Plant trees. No airconds. No preservatives. Homemade's the best.

And the older I get, the stronger my hippie tendencies have become.

I want to be preservative-free. Toxic-free even. I want to go no-poo. I want to throw away these deodorants, lotions and soaps. I want my family to go no-poo. I want to use everything homemade. Yes that includes soaps, shampoos and everything under the sun. 

It ain't easy.

Food-wise, we rarely eat out anymore. Organic? Some, not all. Getting there InsyaAllah. It ain't cheap to be organic.

And it ain't easy being a hippie in this land. Too many critics, too many judgments. 

Down with it all! 

Tonight I washed my son's hair with honey. The bath room looks like a mini-kitchen, with apple cider and baking soda (for our homemade shampoo), and honey for cleansing and washing the kids' hair.

Now where's my daisy-print head scarf? 

This is how I imagine I look like..

 But this is how I probably look like in reality ;) (well if I'm lucky enough)

*Images from google!

But who cares? Who says standing up for your beliefs would be easy?

Onwards and upwards! Lets save the world and ourselves from toxic and illnesses.

Law & Order SVU

I've been a fan. For the number of years it's been on TV, I've been a fan. That's... many, many years.

I got me a new laptop. H gave me season 13's episodes. Lo and behold, my favourite Detective Stabler left the show.

Why oh why!!

Not that he is hot or anything. But I've been watching him since I was in secondary school. That's more than 15 years ago. Darn it.

Of course things change. Remember Family Ties? Full House? Fresh Prince of Bel Air? They were so good we thought they would last forever. And then there was Buffy the Vampire Slayer, gosh how I felt so empty when it ended.

It's not as if I don't cope to changes well. I cope with changes in life well. I try to redha. Accept that changes are part of life. Maybe I am taking this too hard because TV is escapism. A fantasy world that you feel.. well, perhaps you can control it. 


Blueh. Right. What nonsense to be affected by TV!

Hiatus Over!

Phew..spider webs all over this blog. It has been too long!

 So many have happened. Too many.

 The spinal curve has increased. I am back to 45 degrees upper curve and 50 degrees lower curve. Exactly the measurement I had at 14 years old when they wanted to schedule a surgery for me without my parents' consent. There I was sitting in that drabby room in Universiti Hospital, and the Profs and their minion-doctors (whoops..mean mean mean of me) were discussing my curves as if I wasn't there, and as if my aunt (who was accompanying me while my parents snd sister were overseas for a holiday) was chopped liver. Images of them talking like this while cutting through my spine went through my head and made me brave enough to speak up and said no, I want to wait till my parents get home. During that time, you never question the doctors. You go there, you do whatever they want and listen to whatever they say and follow them without arguments. I was done. I wasn't going to fight them, or even hear them anymore. I chose not to go back. My parents, unaware of the risk of an increasing scoliosis, agreed.

Fast forward 19 years later, after two surgeries, a history of partial paralysis due to infected implants and a husband and two kids to think of now aside from myself, the fight for normality (or something like it) goes on. I go to the spinal physio twice a week for pain management. I go to the gym three times a week for pain management. I breastfeed in weird positions to avoid more pain incurring. I pray everyday for strength and good days, and for old age that won't trouble my kids.

Aside from myself, there's H. And Gibran. And Ilan.

 H is busy busy busy. Work is demanding, as usual lecturing is an overworked-underpaid career. But he is happy and I am sincerely happy that he's found a good place for himself. He goes to work at 7am everyday, comes home when it's nearly dark, and stays up late at night to prep for lectures and do other stuff. I pray he always has good health!

 Gibran is spending his last year in kindy. He's struggling to read, so I try to spend time doing revision (reading English, bacaan melayu and maths) with him everyday. A little bit of something esch day. I asked a teacher to come in once a week to the house to tutor him, for variety's sake. He likes her and enjoys their lessons. He's also taking tennis and iqra' (Quran reading) class in the kindy. Teacher Jack says he's a natural with tennis. On Saturdays he goes to Muay Thai, and we try to bring him swimming whenever we're free.

 Ilan is a Ponyo. That, I shall explain in the other blog soon ;) Ilan... is even more active and resilient than Gibran ever was. If people thought Gibran was hyper, I shudder thinking what people wil think of Ilan. He cannot sit still even for half a second. He eats like a champion but is petite compared to the brother. At 8 months old, he is only 7.5 kgs. But as long as he is healthy, I am happy.

Then there's work. I've started part-timing again, which means even less time for anything else.

Between the four of us, there is little free time at hand. Sometimes I an on my feet all day and only sit down during mealtimes or when I'm expressing milk for Ilan. It can get quite stressful and chaotic around here.

But hey! Who says idle is good...?

Happiness. Or Something Like It.

Nope, no longer the hormonal pregnant lady now, Alhamdulillah :)

I'm now a proud mum of two beautiful boys.

They're asleep now, so.. So should I. Will write more soon.

Fish Mongers

Also known as SELFISH people!

Yesterday night at Uptown Kota D'sara a BMW parked right beside my car, blocking any access for me to get out of my parking spot and leave the place. I spent 30 minutes honking away like a maniac (with my blood at boiling point of course) until my stupid Alza honk stopped working. FYI if you buy a Perodua car next time be prepared lah for small faults here and there. The sad reality is that they still can't compete with the resilience of Japanese cars.

Anyway.

After numerous announcements by the deejay at the karaoke counter at Uptown, an old man came waddling down the stairs, rushed forward towards the BMW (KBS 66, I will remember your plate number for a long time), gave an apologetic wave and drove the car out.

The only thing that stopped me from getting out of the car and screaming obscenities to him was the fact that he was grandpa-like. There is no way I would shout at an old, white-haired man in this lifetime, especially in front of Gibran (who was already sleepy as he|| and very upset with all the grumbling/complaining his Mummy was doing).

So, too late, old man. Apologetic wave or not, you ruined our night with your uncaring, selfish attitude. Since you were planning to go minum-minum with your other datuk friends, you should've taken the effort to find a proper parking place instead of blocking a tired young family.

I don't get our society. I really don't.

Say what you want lah. I. DON'T. CARE.

Most Malaysians have an attitude problem.

First and foremost, this double-parking thingy would not be a common happening if developers have enough parking slots for people who frequent retail areas. For this to happen rules have to be in place. It starts with the people governing developments and giving out permits and such. In Melbourne for every square feet of retail area, there has to be at least a certain set amount of parking spaces allocated for customers. So parking at retail areas are ample. Plus the wrongdoers get fined every single time. So noone dares to be a wrongdoer. That's effective enforcement. Not that stupid tow truck coming to haul double-parked cars away every once in a blue moon to prove a point. What's the point? Most days of the year noone would feel afraid to double-park anyway here in Malaysia anyway.

And right into the society our attitude problems continue. Ineffective enforcement means freedom to do as you like and not get caught. And wow are we Malaysians gutsy or what. We'd double park everywhere we feel like.

The mosque in DU is packed with double-parkers on Fridays. Once a guard from our area told an elderly guy (nicely, mind you) to please, do not park in front of the gates of a resident. The guy slammed the door, beeped beeped his big-a$$ car alarm, and shouted at the guard; "AKU NAK PEGI SEMBAHYANG LAH! TAU TAK SEMBAHYANG TU APA?"...

Wow we Malaysians are never wrong. Off you go to pray to God after a nice shout you give to a poor guard just doing his job. I'm sure the gates of heavens would be glad to open for you.

I sound bitter. Do I? Yes I do.

Selfish people get to me. They make me pray for bad things to happen to them. And that ain't good for my faith and soul.

And in this country there's nothing I can even do about it.

All I can do is pray for faith and strength to handle these selfish people in a better way next time. I won't honk till my silly local car's honk gets spoiled. That'll only cost me a useless amount of money to replace and the next grandpa that does that won't even be affected by it. I won't nag and grumble till my five-year old intan payung gets a drift of the negative karma and has difficulties falling asleep. That'll only affect the mind of the darling boy that he is.

I will only zikir. And pray. And zikir some more. And hope for justice in karma.

Of Memories Changing With Time

Yesterday Ninie would've turned 31. It hurts a little less thinking about her now, although most of the time I don't want it to, because it is good to think of mortality and never take it for granted.

For her family though, I'm sure the pain is no less than it was the first day she was gone.

When I think about her, I think about the crazy times we had as teenagers, as newly wed young girls living in a foreign land; learning to cook, learning to care and be independent with our husbands, learning to be far from home, always talking about growing old and what'll we do in our future. How many kids we'd have, where we'd live and where we'd retire. Surely we'd still be friends then.

I think of her with fondness, feeling warm inside despite the usual sadness. The sadness has somehow changed into something different. It's changed into an appreciation for life, gratitude for the chance to continue learning and living, and the need to continuously better myself.

Dear friend, you will always be in my thoughts and I will pray for you, just as the Prophet (PBUH) had advised us to pray for our loved ones who are already in the next realm. In spirit, I wish I could send my hugs and kisses to you on this day that is your birthday. Another Al-Fatihah is valid on this day when the memory of you touches me again and demands changes in my life as always.

Suspenseful Races

I haven't gone to the gym or worked out (at all!) for nearly two months now. The nausea and exhaustion has been barely bearable (and I've yet to lose a battle to vomiting, not about to lose one now! Haha!), so I've been resting a lot at home. This time around is definitely somewhat worse than the first time. Very unexpected.

And now I've got two (or is it three....??) races in the next two months to complete.. and I'm a nervous wreck! Not training is the worse thing a runner can do to him/herself!

So this Monday I'm dragging myself out of bed, nausea or not. Off to the kiara hills again for training I go.

Hope baby'll cope well in there with the training and all.

The 32nd

I turn 32 today. This year I got a handful of prezzies that are just too good to talk about. So we'll talk about em some other day :) soon.

H asked how I felt turning 32. And he asked me if I remembered those days when we were teenagers and thought that turning 30 would be a nightmare. What a number. So ancient!

Truth is I feel good. Alhamdulillah, lots of good things happening this year, InsyaAllah.

There's also the fact that about a month ago I was pondering about how depressing it is to be turning 33... and then suddenly I realised I was only turning 32! Gosh, a year's bonus!!! It feels good to be younger than you think you are! Hahahahaaa!!

So yeah. I turn 32 today. Thanks Mak for being there for me all these 32 years. Yes Apak forgot my birthday again this year, but that's nothing new so I'm not offended ;) He'll give me something good when he finally realises he's forgetten it. Heheh. Thanks H for being a fantastic friend to me for the past 14 years. You're a solid rock in my life. Thanks Gibran for the morning kisses you shower upon me these days, more so since you realised I've been unwell lately. You're growing up to be such a sweet boy, more than I could ever wish for. Thanks Kaklong for being my one and only sister, a pain-in-the-a$$ but I cannot imagine my life without you nonetheless. Thanks to all my family and friends for the wishes and the comfort you always provide. For that I am forever indebted.

Last but not least, thank Allah for the wonderful 32 years. You give me so much to be thankful about even amidst all the bad, the good always (always) outweigh it all. Not everyone can say this, so I am indeed truly blessed.