Newspapers recently reported a well-known tuan guru calling for people of religious standing (he specifically mentioned ulamak) to embrace polygamy with even more zeal by taking additional wives, especially single moms.
Somehow, he seems to be inordinately concerned with the increasing number of janda (divorcees), ibu tunggal (single mothers) and andalusia (old maids) in our midst, for he lamented about the latter days after airing his rather skewed thoughts about the former.
His solution? Ulamaks should help stem the tide by increasing their bini (spouse) quota. Why ulamak? Because he reckoned only they can help provide spiritual guidance to these 'unfortunate' women, to prevent them from falling by the wayside.
How insulting to the jandas and their ilk. What good will that bring if the only change an abandoned family ever experiences is spiritual overdose preached by someone else's husband whose alternate reason for his presence in the household is to fulfill the mother's sexual need?
These women don't need a husband if all he can offer is himself. I can bet my bottom dollar they have no problem coping with the absence of a sexual relationship. They have a well-functioning cold-storage system, Mr Ulamak, and they hold the switch, thank you.
They can darn well keep the lid on their sexual needs without having to sell themselves short, Mr Ulamak. They are more concerned about getting those kids decently fed, clothed, sheltered and schooled than getting a poke, Sir.
The absence of a prick (the appendage) is hardly an issue; the absence of the prick who fathered those kids, who eventually left them to fend for themselves, is.
I have a better idea, Mr Ulamak. Maybe you should look into WHY these women became single moms in the first place. Let me steer you in the right direction; spousal abandonment is the operative term here, Sir.
Maybe you should TEACH these men to be more responsible towards their family, that it doesn't do to walk out on one's wife and kids to disappear into thin air when times are hard, OR when a new model comes along offering what seems like an exciting ride.
Stop worrying about these single mothers, Mr Ulamak. They are made of sterner stuff. They are like the phoenix, they have the ability to rise from the ashes. They don't admit defeat, they love their children unreservedly and would sacrifice their all for them.
Don't lose sleep over them Mr Ulamak, for they have balls, although I can't say the same for some of your kind, especially the ones who err with impunity...
PS: Congratulations to 'Bung' for taking a starlet off the marriage market. May her star brighten, her pocket deepen, her life sweeten; and may they find happiness. My sympathy, however, lies with the one grieving in Kinabatangan..
Not sure what dish this is.. I think it's chicken.
My sauce-laden, very tender beef cuts
Shrimp (I think)
Joe (right) still tucking in, Ann (left) probably kenyang already..
Pstt.. you shoot him and I have to pay for the meal!
In the midst of their uncle's sudden admittance to University Hospital for cardiac arrest, and his eventual demise two days later, our eldest, Najmuddin and youngest, Nawwar, celebrated their respective birthday which falls a day apart.
Naj turned 34 on December 12 while Nawwar, who is 10 years younger, turned 24 on December 11. Naj was born one grey winter afternoon in London; he arrived when his father was away in Germany and I had to fend for myself, taking a cab to the hospital in Euston Square and delivering while hanging on to the hand of a young houseman named Dr Foster.
Nawwar's arrival was just as eventful; in fact it was terrifying, to say the least. At full term and during my last check-up, I slipped and fell off the gynae's examination table in Penawar (now called SJMC), causing foetal distress.
Subsequently, I had to undergo an immediate Caesarean section, with me shakily signing the consent form myself because there just wasn't time to inform any family member.
As always, we celebrate their birthdays jointly each year. The mood of the recent one, however, was very much subdued. Understandably so.
With their beloved Pak Utih fighting for his life in ICU, their thoughts (and ours too) were with him, nervously waiting for that inevitable call.
The truth is we never really celebrated birthdays in the real sense of the word. What we have been doing year after year is group together for a family dinner each time a birthday comes along.
We usually extend invitation to close friends of the birthday boy/girl. Definitely no partying nor singing, no theme or any other fancy stuffs, and occasionally no cake either. In other words, no hooplas. Makan together is of prime concern to us.
This year we decided to go to Bubba Gump, a restaurant offering American Deep South specialties like Cajun chicken, fried shrimps and calamari et al. The clam chowder served there, prepared New England-style, was one of the best I had ever tasted anywhere.
Apparently, the restaurant is an offshoot of the movie Forrest Gump, where Bubba Gump is FG's best buddy. The kids told me so; I haven't even seen the movie.
The outlet we went to is located on the first floor of The Curve (next to the famous Waroeng Penyet) in Mutiara Damansara. The food was good, the portions substantial, and the service a-okay. In all, it was an enjoyable family outing.
How much sleep does one really need in a day? If you go by expert (read medical) advice it's eight hours, so as to give your body a proper rest.
By the same token, experts also tell you to drink at least a litre of plain water daily. This not only quenches your thirst but also serves to cleanse and detoxify your body.
I'm afraid I have never been able to achieve both i.e. sleep for eight long hours, interrupted or not, and down so much water. Not a worthy customer here, I am.
I have been surviving on four hours of sleep daily since God-knows-when. As a schoolgirl, I would read, in the comfort of my kelambu (mosquito net), into the wee hours until sleep overtook me.
As a journalist, I worked odd hours and the graveyard shift was nothing new, especially as I was attached to an afternoon daily where the paper went to bed as KL folks awakened to greet a new day.
As a writer, the creative juice flows in the stillness of the night when peace and quiet reign. Even today it's a rare occasion indeed for me to turn in before midnight and to wake up with the sun.
With clockwork regularity, I usually hit the pillow 1-1.30 am and rise 5.30 am. It's only in the last few years that I felt the need to catch 40 winks in the afternoon. It must be the ageing process and I am listening.
This was brought home when I crashed the car some years back by falling asleep at the wheels while driving one Ramadan afternoon. I was hungry as well as sleepy, yet hazarded a drive to run an errand, with my youngest child in the car.
Of all the stupid things I had ever done in my life, this was definitely one of them. A lapse of just a few seconds saw the car swerving to the right lane, skidding across a drain, barely missing a big tree by the side of the road, and crashing into the chain-link fence of Sekolah Menengah Subang Jaya.
The twisted fence somehow held the car in a loose grip as it hung precariously over the school field 30 feet below. One wrong move and the car would have toppled over and plummet onto the field, and in all probability flattened like a pancake, with us trapped inside.
With the help of passers-by and people from nearby houses, mother and daughter crawled out, shaken but thankfully only slightly injured. The front portion of the car, however, was badly mangled.
A frightful, sobering lesson that was. I have never been able to live down the fact that Nawwar and I once came so close to losing our lives.
Today I make it a habit to take a noon snooze daily, and not push my luck behind the wheels when the eyes feel heavy. It's just not worth it...
My heart goes out to Puan Sri Hajjah Halimah Mohd Isa (my MIL in the '70s and '80s). Thirty-five long years ago she buried a husband; this morning she buried a son.
Life slipped away quietly from Ahmad Nazri Abdul Rahman, second son of the late Inspector-General of Police, Tan Sri Haji Abdul Rahman Hashim, at 10.52 last night in University Hospital. Nazri, 60, was my children's much-loved paternal uncle. He was warded on Thursday following a heart attack.
Pak Abu and I were at the Malay College Old Boys Association (MACOBA) annual dinner in Istana Hotel when we were informed of his demise. We decided to leave the dinner minutes later. It just didn't feel right to continue making merry upon hearing such sorrowful news.
On behalf of the family, I would like to take this opportunity to thank Polis DiRaja Malaysia for their assistance in all the preparations, including the burial this morning at Tanah Perkuburan Islam Bukit Kiara, Taman Tun Dr Ismail, Kuala Lumpur.
Thank you too to all of arwah Bapak's "men in blue", led by former IGP Tun Haniff Omar and wife Toh Puan Hamidah, who turned up to pay their last respects. Kesudian kalian menziarahi amat menyentuh hati kami.
Semoga Allah swt mencucuri rahmat ke atas roh Allahyarham dan menempatkannya dikalangan roh-roh mereka yang solihin. Amin.
It's been a woefully depressing day today. In the morning Pak Abu received news that one of his MCKK classmates had just passed away due to blood complications. Ayub was only 57. We were unable to visit because his jenazah was taken back to his hometown in Kedah in the afternoon.
Just before noon, another phonecall relayed the death of another friend. Arwah Affendi was an affable man with a wealth of knowledge about traditional healing. A masseur, he was at our house several times some months back to help Pak Abu regain the strength of his numbing fingers and joints.
Just before Maghrib, we were jolted by yet another call, this time to inform that my former brother-in-law, Nazri (whom we call E) already in a critical condition since yesterday due to a heart attack and liver complications, suffered another attack in ICU this evening and is fighting death.
We rushed to University Hospital, to find a large crowd of family members already gathered in the cardio ward. While we were there, he suffered yet another seizure. The prognosis wasn't good.
The doctor in attendance informed that they had done the best they could. She said his system was shutting down and that he was being kept alive by the machine. We were asked to say our prayers; many read the Yaasin at his bedside.
While E's mother (my former mom-in-law) was calm, E's children weren't so composed. My heart bled for his five kids, who are extremely close to their single-father dad, having been raised by him and their grandma.
Soft-spoken Nazri, 60, affectionately called Pak Utih by his nieces and nephews, is a much-loved uncle. My children Naj and Ann rushed to the hospital from their office to be with their ailing Pak Utih, while their sister Awwa followed suit from home, with us.
At the time of writing, E's condition remains critical. This is going to be a long night. Please say a prayer for Nazri Abdul Rahman. Semoga dipermudahkan segalanya untuk dia apa jua yang Allah swt tentukan baginya...........
At last count there were ten birdies chirping merrily away outside his window, some waiting with bated breath to tell every juicy detail of their sex romps (for a price of course) with the mighty 'club' of the golf sensation, His Horniness Tiger Woods.
With his wholesome image in tatters, his golf on hold, his endorsements hanging in balance (one has pulled out) and the future of his marriage uncertain (wife Elin has reportedly moved out of their mansion with the couple's two children), Tiger has plenty of time to reflect on the consequences of what he had described as his 'transgressions'.
"Whatever you choose to call it, Tiger, it's Cheating On One's Wife in simple and plain everyday language. What more, you deserve every single piece of sh** splattered your way in the light of your conduct, so unbecoming for someone of your stature.
The fact remains that you have failed miserably as a son to Kutilda, a husband to Elin, a father to Sam and Charlie and as an icon to us, your avid fans (now no more, and good riddance too). The sad reality is that you are no better than any moronic slimeball in the same mould.
It is lamentable that you had shamelessly and stupidly let your dick do the talking. And now it's payback time, son. We wouldn't have cared a toss in which honey (cess?) pool you had been dipping your rod, had you not been a family man with a wife and two kids in tow.
You have let us down big time. And as far as I am concerned, Tiger, you are done for. You are well and truly in the woods now. For a few tufts of questionable mounds, you screwed yourself in the grandest possible way.
Elin should have whacked you nice and proper with a driver instead of taking a couple of spotty swings at the car. I do hope she will take you to the cleaners..... and more....."