A Funeral and A Wedding

First of all, my apologies for being away from blogsphere for five days. There were too many things to attend to lately that writing was relegated to the bottom rung of the ladder.

To make matters worse, by the time the day was done, my mind switched off automatically. Creativity too took a well-deserved vacation, rendering me staring helplessly at a blank screen for hours at a time.

There was another morning burial at the Kg Sungai Pencala Muslim Cemetery last Saturday, making it the second burial in as many weeks. Al-Fatihah.

Over the weekend I indulged in a favourite pastime - shopping for books. Got meself two deeply disturbing true-crime stories interesting enough to keep me glued to the pages for over two days.

Without A Trace by Marion Collins details the true story of how Robert Durst, a powerful New York real estate millionaire, degenerated from wealth and affluence to a cross-dressing fugitive suspected of murdering and dismembering an elderly neighbour.

The False Prophet, a chilling account by Claire Booth, had me pondering about the fragility of the human mind long after I finished the book.

It revolves around a young Mormon missionary named Taylor Helzer, whose twisted devotion to his church ended with a series of gruesome murders in the name of God.

Last night, we had Ann-Marie and Thong for dinner. I prepared my Hari Raya dishes - nasi minyak (ghee rice), ayam kuzi (a chicken dish) and rendang daging (dried beef curry) - which had the kids drooling from miles away.

Ann-Marie who is French, is Pak Abu's friend from his university days in London. Her husband, the soft-spoken Thong, is Malaysian by birth.

They are in town for the bi-annual visit to Thong's mother and family members in Kuala Lumpur. They would be leaving for their home in Strasbourg, France on Wednesday after a month-long holiday in Asia.

Daughter Awwa dropped by after work while Joe followed suit with girlfriend Lily soon after. Ann, who had to work late, requested that Joe 'tapau' (take away) some of the food home. I, of course, gladly obliged.

After dinner we watched a recording of Maude's wedding to Ahmed, a Moroccan Muslim. There were a lot of singing, ululating and dancing. Maude is the only child of Ann-Marie and Thong.

Despite her French-Chinese heritage, the sweet-faced and pint-sized Maude looks so endearingly Melayu. We wish the handsome couple a lifetime of bliss.

Thong said they would be going to Morocco mid-August to attend a wedding celebration hosted by Ahmed's family.

He also mentioned that they were considering retiring here under the Malaysia My Second Home programme. I think that would be swell.

Sometimes I think we are so unappreciative of what we have. It takes someone totally removed from our sphere to tell us how lucky we are, for the things that we take for granted.