tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25483733189973089152024-02-07T16:13:42.878+08:00kata kamaKama At-Tarawishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11203707782759183847noreply@blogger.comBlogger656125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2548373318997308915.post-18380725382134965422015-05-06T07:36:00.002+08:002015-05-06T08:41:49.942+08:00Opah Checks In...<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Here I am, back again for the umpteenth time, with yet another promise to stay committed (and not really believing if I ever could). The flesh has been weak for the longest time now but the spirit remains willing, that much I can admit to. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">There was a time when putting pen to paper (so to speak) was as natural as doing one's daily toilette, and just as satisfying. Somewhere along the way, however, something happened. The thoughts plateaued and dimmed, lethargy set in, procrastination ensued.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The last time 'Kata Kama' saw life, on January 17, 2013, I was a freshly-minted opah (grandma), hardly a month old. Today there are three cucus in tow - Hasan, Ijaz and Hasan's little sister, Huda.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Way back in 2008 whilst on the haj pilgrimage with Pak Abu and two years later during umrah with the whole family, I shed tears at the foot of Jabal Rahmah, asking for Allah's mercy to bless my children with marriage and little ones of their own. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Five years on, the household has expanded to include two sons-in-law and one daughter-in-law. God willing, another daughter-in-law will complete the equation come February next year.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">All things considered, life has been good and kind. There had been kinks aplenty in the past and I know life may still spring a surprise or two even at this ripe age. But rest assured, I no longer sweat the small stuffs. <br /><br />And this is as far as mukadimah goes. Watch this space (after all, the crazometer has been de-activated) and in the mean time, have a Kitkat!</span></div>
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Kama At-Tarawishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11203707782759183847noreply@blogger.com32tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2548373318997308915.post-76825343675374792532013-01-17T22:59:00.001+08:002013-01-19T22:37:22.765+08:00New Year, New Hobby<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">It's never too late to embark on a new hobby. People I know have done so, and successfully too. An ex-colleague bought a Harley upon retirement and rode all over the country, his wife a willing partner. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">As for me, I had long wanted to build a collection of old china, ever since my late grandmother left me a pretty blue-and-white porcelain bowl (pix below) almost a century old.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMcsKWcae4HWy5FuqUg4whc32FfQfz0IwdAuf1z4kgA8j6kHr5miTESzyPczejIZXc5XRBuJ3QbNZEzmKTFcXrhV42Mso_vCo2V90U2VJLjyKtUy8sab-xm_arDfoFz4dPOcUtZ_hDUH4n/s1600/plate+pah.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="262" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMcsKWcae4HWy5FuqUg4whc32FfQfz0IwdAuf1z4kgA8j6kHr5miTESzyPczejIZXc5XRBuJ3QbNZEzmKTFcXrhV42Mso_vCo2V90U2VJLjyKtUy8sab-xm_arDfoFz4dPOcUtZ_hDUH4n/s320/plate+pah.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grandma's champagne-hued serving dish</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Grandma's extensive collection of <i>pinggan mangkuk lama</i> had somehow disappeared, I know not where, following her demise. I was too busy raising a family in Kuala Lumpur to keep track of things.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Over the years, there were intermittent forays to the weekend flea market at Amcorp Mall, Petaling Jaya, to look at things. There were lots of interesting items but you really need to poke around a bit to find the ones worth buying.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Enter Che'Pon, a lady of both means and leisure. Had it not been for her, I would still be stuck at 'thinking' (about starting this new hobby).</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Che'Pon, in her late 50s and retired, is nuts about old stuffs. She would go the distance to get what she wanted, in particular trawling the internet looking for items at bargain prices. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Her home is a treasure trove of<i> barang lama, </i>all restored and lovingly maintained; crockery, furniture, cameras, vases, jars, pots and ewers, Peranakan heritage items, brass iron and <i>belanga</i> (cooking pot) .. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">When I first stepped foot inside her lavish abode, I was pleasantly surprised to see a beautifully restored </span><span style="font-size: large;"><i>almari dapur</i></span><span style="font-size: large;"> (kitchen cupboard) taking a prime spot in her living room. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">[Remember those pre-refrigerator days when leftovers were kept in a multi-tiered wooden cupboard, the doors of which enclosed with mesh, with each cupboard leg placed in a small bowl containing water to prevent ants from getting to the food?]</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">She told me she bought it for a song (well, almost) but the restoration had cost quite a bit, naturally. The end result, however, was a charming piece of woodwork. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Pieces of old crockery, mostly of <i>bunga kangkung</i> motif like the Chinese teapot below, were showcased in the cupboard. Those plates transported me back to the 1950s; we had used similar ones for our meals.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYPQGGl7A9ncY0tCk3f3yHteZxg-k5hcGTUQPgdWhs6hL1JaHz9KTE1veYR7-fcgfKIqggo6VMATcsh1hwi3_5P83jX_5vUHW9IrpTqcvCdhhV_dPTUrQiWIKIzDbvS_0xcnfdfY1qDRRy/s1600/teko.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYPQGGl7A9ncY0tCk3f3yHteZxg-k5hcGTUQPgdWhs6hL1JaHz9KTE1veYR7-fcgfKIqggo6VMATcsh1hwi3_5P83jX_5vUHW9IrpTqcvCdhhV_dPTUrQiWIKIzDbvS_0xcnfdfY1qDRRy/s320/teko.jpg" width="212" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This bunga kangkung motif was very popular back then.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">A fortnight back son Naj and I decided to pay a long-overdue visit to the Amcorp Mall flea market. He had wanted to check out old typewriters (he's an earnest collector) whilst Mom just wanted to browse around. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Told him I used to have a 'Remington' eons ago. Well, actually it was Grandpa's but I had used it as much as he did. That Remington has since disappeared without a trace too.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT8ksMw1_Ww6gyYaSoGwyPQ7b05ckrJ2ID1wqiJO6-foh05rMcZEjR-KM9ESPvYBhkupSF_soXkk44HC0vkXQv3GlrMUI3PpB2bG0QTaQDsTJhuqUNk9FdMGkA-FraXur79fXajwqr8SUR/s1600/remington.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="234" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT8ksMw1_Ww6gyYaSoGwyPQ7b05ckrJ2ID1wqiJO6-foh05rMcZEjR-KM9ESPvYBhkupSF_soXkk44HC0vkXQv3GlrMUI3PpB2bG0QTaQDsTJhuqUNk9FdMGkA-FraXur79fXajwqr8SUR/s320/remington.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tok Ayah's trusty Remington, now living in eternal bliss in typewriters' heaven, I think.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdWfl6Gy7DQCrIQ_-xAqf0FkhilvVAyjo-3o5_Y-pDu-TIYk0d_aZjRdlRlPi7UrwZqe1s4ygSZvmvjBXagxi4b5HyCKjqtP0NnZUYt4NyMUC37kAV3_hmjXJhavmIzEqg1OCBbRvXfjU6/s1600/plates+lama.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdWfl6Gy7DQCrIQ_-xAqf0FkhilvVAyjo-3o5_Y-pDu-TIYk0d_aZjRdlRlPi7UrwZqe1s4ygSZvmvjBXagxi4b5HyCKjqtP0NnZUYt4NyMUC37kAV3_hmjXJhavmIzEqg1OCBbRvXfjU6/s320/plates+lama.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">dolu-dolu punya - translucent cookie containers..</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA_bfDRfJyo0FsRdEOhMiSf3prtIZKg0xsSfxfJyKX7ztBkRVk7gQZRf98yK5_pnD1aNCaVvLNlW_8bZDw9pQ90zgOMLRgXrJhcR_B9TdmrJ7K5Km3PyIrU0LAGkSsxoz1UNJ2CsJmQZV-/s1600/piring+lama.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA_bfDRfJyo0FsRdEOhMiSf3prtIZKg0xsSfxfJyKX7ztBkRVk7gQZRf98yK5_pnD1aNCaVvLNlW_8bZDw9pQ90zgOMLRgXrJhcR_B9TdmrJ7K5Km3PyIrU0LAGkSsxoz1UNJ2CsJmQZV-/s320/piring+lama.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">dessert dish.. orang dulu panggil piring dodol.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">That trip resulted in the haul above. Glad to report I'm on my way to old china heaven. These six </span><span style="font-size: large;">cookie containers with covers and five matching</span><span style="font-size: large;"> side plates </span><span style="font-size: large;">can be considered my starter kit.....</span></div>
Kama At-Tarawishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11203707782759183847noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2548373318997308915.post-70111602570624857132013-01-16T12:16:00.002+08:002013-01-16T12:16:31.636+08:00Gifts From The Heart<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">Apologies are long overdue to a couple of folks who had me in their thoughts during their travels. I had been meaning to put this posting up a month ago... as always, <i>kemalasan</i> set in.. *sigh*</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">This beautifully crafted plate comes from Palestine, a gift from my colleague Amir Effendi who, together with fellow Muslim Aider Muhammad bin Kamarulazizi, went on a mercy mission to Palestine in November last year.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Thank you Amir. You know what to get me on your next trip, to Nepal, in March. A tiny chunk of the Himalayas would be a welcome addition to my collection.. hehehe..</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPj2OpCuqzwQHxPOcOsALVvMMoXbfZZ5t0xtv6pk-s3oysXZJ3IFnQ8Dpnv_Ay_SrQD-4NucNzgjnHeJ5a0s2ruIQ2aI4l8YsGw97Mnwhop-vXY7V2KAOQb4JyJrlD-pfvGTyQ0npynLNJ/s1600/blue+mosque.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="281" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPj2OpCuqzwQHxPOcOsALVvMMoXbfZZ5t0xtv6pk-s3oysXZJ3IFnQ8Dpnv_Ay_SrQD-4NucNzgjnHeJ5a0s2ruIQ2aI4l8YsGw97Mnwhop-vXY7V2KAOQb4JyJrlD-pfvGTyQ0npynLNJ/s320/blue+mosque.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">My sister Hanizah is a frequent traveller to Istanbul. She fell in love with the place on her first visit and has been returning ever since. Izah and her teenage daughter Faten have even developed a friendship with a local woman and her family.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">She got me this finely-crafted plate on her last trip. I do have another piece from Istanbul courtesy of a friend, but this is my first 'Blue Mosque' plate. Thank you sis for keeping me close to your heart always. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIPi9rti1nwiwhWTCPXWipZxIeHSv4InuHn0QC8jRAHqYWshcr_NUCB3gT0g_i8gUkOl1zajjGhzQFrm88dUdSW9wLeHOPOD14HrPe5LFWhMV1NKDgBfIe1fxtC84ib3akQEMnthK-fNUK/s1600/klompen.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="304" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIPi9rti1nwiwhWTCPXWipZxIeHSv4InuHn0QC8jRAHqYWshcr_NUCB3gT0g_i8gUkOl1zajjGhzQFrm88dUdSW9wLeHOPOD14HrPe5LFWhMV1NKDgBfIe1fxtC84ib3akQEMnthK-fNUK/s320/klompen.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">No prize to those who guess correctly where these come from. The windmill motif is a dead give-away. Got these charming little <i>klompen</i> from my Facebook friend Hasnah and her Dutch husband Farid/Frank. Thank you both.. Pak Abu and I await your return, for another round of <i>makan-makan.</i>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Further postings on decorative plates can be found here:</span></div>
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<a href="http://kamabakar.blogspot.com/2008/06/plates-of-joy.html">http://kamabakar.blogspot.com/2008/06/plates-of-joy.html</a></div>
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<a href="http://kamabakar.blogspot.com/search?q=plates+of+joy+II">http://kamabakar.blogspot.com/search?q=plates+of+joy+II</a></div>
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<a href="http://kamabakar.blogspot.com/2011/10/cuban-delight.html">http://kamabakar.blogspot.com/2011/10/cuban-delight.html</a><br />
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<a href="http://kamabakar.blogspot.com/2011/08/cam-on-ban.html">http://kamabakar.blogspot.com/2011/08/cam-on-ban.html</a><br />
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l<a href="http://kamabakar.blogspot.com/2011/10/sigh.html">http://kamabakar.blogspot.com/2011/10/sigh.html</a></div>
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Kama At-Tarawishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11203707782759183847noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2548373318997308915.post-72840521978795780262013-01-15T15:57:00.001+08:002013-01-15T20:16:35.384+08:00January Round-up.. sort of..<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<span style="font-size: large;">Hello folks, here I am again. <i>Tenggelam timbul, bak kata orang Melayu</i> (the English equivalent is 'now you see it, now you don't'). </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Before you know it, we are already halfway through January. Time rushes by so fast it's frightening. In the blink of an eye, tomorrow is yesterday, and we are all a day closer to the grave. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">[Whatever the case, at least the world didn't end on December 21 2012. Put the fear of God into you those Mayans, didn't they? That they ran out of stone slabs was true after all, eh...] </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">At the home front, a brand new <i>cucu</i> made his grand entrance on December 18. Being the first grandchild for both sides of the family, Hasan's arrival is a welcome diversion from our admittedly boring, mundane daily routine. </span></div>
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Hasan in blissful slumber after 'cukur jambul'</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Come February, with the grace of Allah swt, a new son-in-law comes aboard, thus increasing the family's journalistic quota from three to four. </span><span style="font-size: large;">Izhar's subbing for a newspaper while bride-to-be Ann is with a news portal. May they find mutual bliss in journalism, a vocation much maligned these days. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Insofar as <b>Kata Kama</b> is concerned, I don't know if I can ever live up to the promise of non-procrastination. That I'm getting lazier is the truth. Besides, the mind too is getting foggier with age and it is beginning to show.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Workwise, there's Muslim Aid Malaysia Humanitarian Foundation to contend with. If the current schedule is anything to go by, we are in for multiple projects that could help bring some degree of relief to the needy. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Our WASH (water, sanitation and health) project is on-going; the one in Pulau Mabul off Samporna, Sabah is cruising along nicely and the focus is now on a couple of other adjacent islands, as well as the Orang Asli communities in Peninsular Malaysia. </span></div>
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The tanks are up in Mabul..</div>
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<span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify;">Besides our regular work with the refugee kids from the Myanmar-Muslim, Rohingya and Somali communities, there's a host of new issues concerning children to look into in Mabul and nearby islands.</span></div>
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Breaking fast with Rohingya kids in Meru, Klang</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">In Mabul, schooling is denied to many children due to lack of proper documentation. Concerned, a local diving resort operator has taken it unto himself to educate the kids by setting up a makeshift learning centre named 'School of Hope'. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Lunchtime for the Myanmar- Muslim refugee kids in Selayang </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The Foundation chipped in with whatever's needed to ensure the 'Hope' kids are at least literate. Reading, writing and crafts are taught. Teachers are mainly volunteers, local and international. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Just as things are moving according to plan, the centre comes under official scrutiny from the state department. Their main gripe? "School of Hope' is not officially registered as a school but carries the 'school' legend. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Performance by School of Hope kids</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Whatever the case, it's 'no can do' to just sitting back and watching these kids while away their time doing nothing, and growing up illiterate. It's either education or a lifetime of servitude, petty crime, or hardship. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Last year concluded with two mercy missions, the first to Yangon and Sittwe in Myanmar and the second to Palestine, both bringing much needed food, clothing and medication to the people under oppression there. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">This year, come March one of our boys will be trekking up the foothills of the Himalayas, to Annapurna to be exact. The mission is to create awareness and raise funds for our "Palestinian Appeal". project. More on this later when all the details are finalised. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">In the same vein, a calligraphic art exhibition called 'At-Tayyibah' is currently on at the New Straits Times Gallery in Balai Berita (Jalan Riong, Bangsar). It began on January 2 and concludes on January 25. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Digital Calligraphy solo art exhibition</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The exhibition showcases 34 pieces of stunning digital calligraphic artwork by noted khat master, Ismail Md Zain, a friend of the Foundation. Part of the proceeds from the sale of the paintings will be channelled to our 'Palestinian Appeal' fund as well.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">It is heartening to note his work has been getting good response from the public. Quite a few pieces have been sold. Do drop by NST Gallery at Balai Berita for a peek. You'll be surprised at the beauty and clarity of each artwork..</span></div>
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Kama At-Tarawishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11203707782759183847noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2548373318997308915.post-11304332379756611802012-10-14T23:25:00.001+08:002012-10-15T07:36:17.907+08:00A Day of Books, Plates & Moo Cow..<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">It has been almost a year since I last step foot inside Amcorp Mall in Petaling Jaya (story <a href="http://kamabakar.blogspot.com/search?q=amcorp+mall">here</a>). I remember that trip well because it marked my very first venture into <b>BookXcess</b>, that sprawling, totally unpretentious store on the third floor, where books were sold at stunningly low prices. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Today once again I was Amcorp Mall bound; it was my day out with the eldest, Naj, and the youngest, Awwa. An outing with Naj is a rare occurrence, then and now. A journo's life is a hectic one; having been one myself, I know the score. So when he called to ask if I would like to go book-shopping with him, I jumped at the idea. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Today's haul was a good one; Peter Carey's <i>Parrot and Olivier In America</i>, Jon Katz's <i>The Dogs of Bedlam Farm</i>, Bill Bryson's <i>In A Sunburned Country</i> and <i>Shakespeare: The World As Stage</i>, Jim Wight's <i>The Real James Herriot - A Memoir of My Father</i> and Asne Seierstad's <i>The Bookseller of Kabul.</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Touted as 'a comic masterpiece' by </span><i style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">New Yorker </i><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">a</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">nd 'fizzing with fictional panache' by</span><i style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> Sunday Times, Parrot and Olivier In America </i><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">details the picaresque travels in the New World of a French aristocrat and his Englishman servant. Going by the blurbs alone, I think I am going to enjoy this one.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Peter Carey is twice winner of T</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">he Booker Prize</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> (for </span><i style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Oscar and Lucinda </i><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">and T</span><i style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">he True History of The Kelly Gang</i><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">) and the book</span><i style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> Parrot and Olivier</i><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> was shortlisted for T</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">he Man Booker Prize 2010<b>. </b></span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">(Howard Jacobson eventually won it for his <i>The Finkler Question</i>).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Jon Katz's<i> The Dogs of Bedlam Farm</i> can't go wrong with people who love animal stories. Yorkshire vet and master storyteller James Herriot got me started some 40 years ago, and I haven't looked back since. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">There's Vicki Myron's delightful <i>Dewey, </i>about a cat adopted by a small town library<i>, </i>and John Grogan's <i>Myron & Me, </i>about a dog that changed a man's life,<i> </i>on the shelf at home, not to mention the whole gamut of Herriot's humorous take on his rural practice. Simply said, I'm a sucker for animal tales.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Of Bill Bryson, of course he needs no introduction. I'm a fan through and through and the two books complete my collection of all his work. <i>In A Sunburned Country,</i> his dry take on equally parched Australia continues his travelogue tradition and in <i>Shakespeare: The World As Stage,</i> Bryson, with his trademark wit, wades through the muddles of time to reveal Shakespeare as the poet really was. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">In </span><i style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The Real James Herriot - A Memoir of My Father, </i><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">son </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Jim Wight ventures beyond his father's life as a veterinarian to reveal the man behind the stories, the private individual who refused to allow fame and wealth to interfere with his practice or his family.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">As for <i>The Bookseller of Kabul, </i>I must confess I had neither read nor heard of Norwegian writer Asne Seierstad before. The book is an international bestseller and "the most intimate description of an Afghan household ever produced by a Western journalist.." <i>(New York Times Book Review)</i> is enough to capture my attention.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">With the exception of Bill Bryson's<i> "Shakespeare...</i> at RM19.90, the rest were priced at RM17.90 each, working out to less than RM110 for six brand new books. If that's not a decent enough damage I don't know what is. In ordinary book stores, I'd probably have to fork out more than twice as much for the same number of books. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It being Sunday, the flea market was in full swing so we joined the teeming crowd... and got ourselves these cake plates at RM10 for six pieces (you can mix and match). </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Couldn't resist lah, darn cheap, so I settled upon these two patterns. These are brand new plates; the factory is in Puchong.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">One Utama was the last stop before going home; I was lamenting about the disappearance of my favourite yoghurt swirl from Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf's menu (the line was discontinued effective 26/9 recently) when Awwa suggested I should give <b>Moo Cow</b> a try...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">My verdict: SEDAP! </span><br />
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Kama At-Tarawishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11203707782759183847noreply@blogger.com30tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2548373318997308915.post-61807225037843831032012-10-11T22:42:00.000+08:002012-10-12T00:19:15.750+08:00Magnificent, Magnetic Mabul<br />
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The sea was rough; the ride, rougher. As the motored boat
rode the rolling waves of Sulawesi Sea like a man possessed, strong winds blew
my scarf askew, revealing once neatly tied hair in a dishevelled tangle. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">I am no novice to the wiles of the sea, having lived by the
South China Sea throughout my childhood. My </span><span style="line-height: 21px;">derrière</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"> may be accustomed to the
comfort of padded chairs in air-conditioned rooms, but all things considered, </span><span style="line-height: 20px;">I'm</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"> still a Dungun girl at heart and the sea, my master. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">If there is anything to be said about this old gal’s
seaworthiness, it’s that her stomach content held admirably. I </span><span style="line-height: 21px;">wasn't</span><span style="line-height: 115%;"> even
queasy, just occasionally nervous at the vast expanse of the undulating deep
blue rising and falling around me. </span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I was on my way to the island of <a href="http://www.sabahtourism.com/sabah-malaysian-borneo/en/destination/36-mabul-island/">Mabul</a>, a sea-diving haven
off the coast of Samporna, Sabah. It sure was a long way from home; a
three-hour flight from Kuala Lumpur to Tawau, followed by an hour-long drive to
the coastal town of Samporna and a further one-hour journey by boat to Mabul. </span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It was not, by any yardstick, a journey of leisure. The four
of us – two young men hanging on tight to a precious, 12-foot solar panel, my
lady boss and I – were on a mission to help make life a little easier to the
islanders, courtesy of a generous corporate donor. </span></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The donor was financing a couple of projects under their
community service programme; solar-powered water pumps for fresh water supply and
electricity supply to the islanders, their mosque, religious school and a
school for refugee children, as well as new latrines for the latter. Our role
was to facilitate the projects.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 115%;">I am ashamed to admit I had never been to East Malaysia before the Mabul trip. God knows the plans the family had made over the years insofar as Borneo was concerned; to trek up Mount Kinabalu, visit Sepilok Orang Utan Sanctuary, walk across the famous 'jambatan' in Tamparuli, traipse around Kuching, explore Niah Caves, spend time in an Iban longhouse and a Bidayuh village, check out all the bazaars and tamus and pasars..</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">Nothing ever came to </span><span style="line-height: 18px;">fruition, however. Too many things got in the way, chief amongst them my work, unfortunately. As a single mother raising 4 kids, I could afford neither time nor money for such frivolity. And then the kids grew up and left home to live their own lives. Family holidays remained a distant dream. It still does.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">That trip to Mabul (July 2012) was a break of sort. I was determined to make full use of the opportunity to do a bit of exploring. And I did. I never thought I would find another 'place by the sea' as beautiful as my hometown, Dungun, but in Mabul I did. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">The admiration, whilst grudging, was genuine. Oval-shaped Mabul was simply enchanting. Fine white sand, flat and shallow seabed that seemed to go on forever (you can walk far out to sea when the tide goes out), swaying palms, pleasant inhabitants... </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">According to kampung chief and community leader Hj Yusuf, there were some 3000 people living on the island, mostly Bajau Laut and Suluk Muslims, immigrants from nearby islands of the southern Philippines.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">Mabul found fame due to its close proximity to <a href="http://www.sabahtourism.com/sabah-malaysian-borneo/en/destination/135-sipadan-island/">Sipadan</a>, one of the world's best dive spots. Because the government disallows construction of any kind on Sipadan, visitors have to stay on Mabul, which boasts of a few resorts of international standard and numerous water-cottage homestays.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">A diving haven itself, Mabul is recognised as one of the best muck-diving sites in the world. A couple of diving enthusiasts i know swear by Mabul; they can never get enough of diving and underwater-photographing there.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">Our motley gang of four spent four days in Mabul checking and identifying sites, having discussions with local leaders, making friends and eating fresh seafood, fish hauled up daily just by sitting on the jetty and throwing one's line into the water. I devoured juicy crabs - boiled, fried, curried - like there was no tomorrow.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; line-height: 18px;">Leaving Mabul was hard. It felt like leaving good old Dungun all over again. Here I am in KL, but deep inside, Mabul still reigns.. </span></div>
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Kama At-Tarawishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11203707782759183847noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2548373318997308915.post-784150324584992482012-10-08T20:43:00.001+08:002012-10-08T20:44:53.605+08:00Qurban For Life (Q4L)<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Qurban</b> is one of the most important rituals in the Muslim calendar. Broadly speaking, the word, which is Arabic, </span><span style="font-size: large;">means 'sacrifice'. In precise religious terminology however, qurban means the sacrifice of an animal slaughtered for the sake of Allah (swt).</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">In the Shari'ah of our beloved Prophet Muhammad (saw), qurban commemorates the unparalleled sacrifice offered by the Prophet Abraham (a.s) when he, in pursuance to God's command conveyed to him in a dream, prepared to slaughter his son Ishmael.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">In the final moments, Allah (swt) decreed a sheep be slaughtered in Ismael's place. The sacrifice of an animal thus became an obligatory duty to be performed by every Muslim (who fulfils the criteria for this ritual) since.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Qurban is performed annually during the three days of the Eid ul Adha (Hari Raya Haji), specifically on the 10th, 11th and 12th of the Islamic month of Zulhijjah. The meat is then distributed to the poor and the needy, with a smaller portion reserved for one's family and friends.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">In modern times, many Islamic-based charity organisations, of which Muslim Aid Malaysia (Muslim Aid) is one, offer to facilitate the obligatory duty of Qurban as one of their services for the ummah.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">Muslim Aid is under the ambit of London-based Muslim Aid International and the international network has been organising the Qurban campaign, named <b>Qurban For Life</b> (Q4L) for the past two decades. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Meat is distributed to underprivileged Muslims the world over, from Afghanistan to Somalia, Bangladesh, Indonesia, Iraq, Pakistan, Palestine as well as Kashmir and the southern provinces of Thailand where there is a large Muslim population. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">In the case of the local chapter, Australian cattle is the norm and slaughter is done in Jakim-accredited abbattoirs in Australia. Muslim Aid officers are usually on hand to witness the ritual to ensure it meets all the necessary Islamic criteria.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The meat is then shipped to Malaysia and thereon to a canning factory in Terengganu, where it is canned according to specific requirements before being distributed locally and worldwide. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The list of receiving countries has since grown longer and this year Myanmar is added to the group, the main beneficiaries being the repressed Rohingyas and Myanmar-Muslims. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">On the local front, the meat is distributed to orphanages, homes and shelters for single mothers/abandoned wives, the elderly, the destitute, the disabled and the poor. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Muslim Aid is the only Islamic-based organisation in this country that offers qurban meat in cans. Canning is preferred over fresh and/or frozen meat to avoid wastage. The meat is either canned in brine or as corned beef or even as curry, depending on local needs.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">For those who would like to participate in Muslim Aid's Q4L, the cost is only RM380 per head of sheep or per portion of cattle (there are seven portions to a cattle). </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The amount is nett of slaughter, shipping and transportation from Australia to Terengganu, processing and canning, and distribution local and worldwide. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Let's spread the joy of Eid ul Adha with the less fortunate through the ibadah of Qurban. For more details, you can peruse the <a href="http://www.qurbanforlife.com/">Q4L</a> website<a href="http://www.qurbanforlife.com/"> here</a>. May Allah swt bless you for your good deeds. </span><br />
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Kama At-Tarawishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11203707782759183847noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2548373318997308915.post-17367428893472926372012-10-08T11:41:00.000+08:002012-10-12T12:33:54.404+08:00Back In Action (I'd Better Be...)<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">It has been three long months since I last updated <b>Kata Kama.</b> I used to wonder why some of my fellow bloggers had slackened; Too lazy or tired to bother? Hard-pressed for time? Bereft of ideas? That was before I fell into the same trap myself.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Some had abandoned their blogs entirely. </span><span style="font-size: large;">A few others had turned to loads of engaging visuals, appropriately captioned, to make up for the lack of words. Commendable act, this.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Me? I'd attribute my tardiness to mental fatigue. There were topics and issues aplenty to delve into but each time I faced the screen, I couldn't even begin a decent line, let alone be creative.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Intermittently, there were calls and text messages from concerned friends and acquaintances asking about this old self and the reason for the prolonged AWOL. I wish I can justify my absence with some plausible excuse, but there is none.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Be that as it may, here I am, back in action. Let this entry be a new beginning and let's hope I will not fall by the wayside once again...</span></div>
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Kama At-Tarawishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11203707782759183847noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2548373318997308915.post-76171466643130100052012-07-07T14:22:00.002+08:002012-07-08T19:13:43.327+08:00<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>TESCO Mutiara Damansara</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>cheap prices, cheaper manners</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">If you plan to do a bit of shopping at Tesco Mutiara Damansara (the one adjacent to The Curve), make sure you chuck some old newspapers into your shopping bag. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;">Who knows, you may take a fancy at some china or glassware. They do stock up on decently-priced nice pieces there. What they don't have is decently-mannered frontliners. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The outlet is customer-unfriendly in more ways than one and I am saying this out of experience as a regular patron. I have been frequenting this place from Day One by virtue of my staying in the neighbourhood. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;">If Tesco truly want to maintain the goodwill of their customers, they will need to give their frontline staff a refresher course in customer relations. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;">Acid-tongued tarts should not be allowed to serve people who come to spend their hard-earned money at your store, Tesco. If you can't live up to the saying 'customer is king', you have no business running a business. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I have had two unpleasant encounters with two Tesco staff in just as many months and my patience is wearing thin, to the point of not wanting to patronise the place any more.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I'd rather spend a few ringgit more and be treated with dignity elsewhere - we do have choices, Tesco - than be berated by constipated faces who have forgotten what a smile is.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Last month I bought some mangoes and bananas. After hunting high and low for plastic bags (the off-white, rolled, tear-off kind that they place at certain shelves) and not finding any, I brought the fruits, loose, to the weighing station. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The dirty look the Malay woman seated behind the weighing machine gave me was an indication of the crap to come. <i>"Ni kenapa tak masukkan dalam beg plastik awal-awal? Bagi tambah kerja saya jer."</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I naturally lost no time in responding. <i>"Awak ingat kalau saya jumpa plastic bags saya nak bawak selambak macam ni? Mana pergi semua rolls yang selalunya bergantung kat shelves tu? Berapa banyak shelves dah saya pusing, satu pun takder. Saya pun nak kerja senang jugak!"</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">What really irked me was that she had pre-prepared a pile of such bags, already rolled open and neatly placed by the side of the weighing machine. Why the need to berate me? Why not just plonk the damn fruits into the bags and be done with it? That was what the already- opened bags was for, right?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Perhaps because this tudung-ed makcik clad in slightly worn clothing looked unsophisticated (cleaner/maid came to mind), she was a convenient target. I doubt if the worker would do the same to a well-dressed <i>Ahso</i> or foreigner. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Earlier this week I had another run-in, this time with a cashier. I spied some nice bowls and plates and decided to buy them, so I loaded about 15 pieces into a cart and made my way to a cashier.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Me: "<i>Mintak kertas, dik. saya nak wrap pinggan mangkuk ni."</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Cashier: "<i>Kertas takder".</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Me: "<i>Kalau takder, pi lah cari kat mana-mana." </i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Cashier: "<i>Kita memang tak sediakan kertas."</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Me: "<i>Huh? Habis macam mana saya nak bawak balik pinggan mangkuk ni? Kalau tak bungkus, pecahlah dia dalam kereta nanti. You all jual barangan kaca tapi tak sediakan kertas pembungkus?"</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Cashier, curtly: "<i>Jangan tanya saya. Saya tak tau. Lagipun orang jarang beli pinggan mangkuk kat sini!"</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Me: "<i>Bodohnya jawapan! Mana supervisor awak, saya nak tanya."</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Cashier (turning to her fellow cashier instead, and asking: <i>"Ada kertas?" </i>Fellow cashier answered: <i>"Alaaa, suruh aja dia bungkus dengan beg plastik tuuu!"</i>)</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">By this time I was really losing it: <i>"Apa ker jadahnya korang ni? Hari Sabtu bukan main lagi No Plastic Bag Day, suruh orang bawak shopping bag sendiri. Hari lain, nak bungkus pinggan 15 keping, suruh pakai 15 plastic bags. 'Eco' kepala hotak hangpa. Apa punya baghal nih??"</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Left with no choice, I took the 15 bags, wrapped my plates <i>(nasib dah bayar, kalau belum, memang sah aku tinggalkan aja)</i> and walked off.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I want to know, apart from 'No Plastic Bag Day' every Saturday, do they practise 'No Kertas Pembungkus Day' <i>tiap-tiap hari</i>? <b>Tesco, tolong jawab sikit? </b></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvXmhBiz2XLLqni_8Sx_RaKPe0yRQMaYtJjOoCmSW07MpcRhtUoaHpZ67Se7pRhmBeXzQQsHEoN7bbq1shjoN-xFUHA14lhaeNjLOnrHY0mZNURgddpyGEd3dTb9Spmed5Nn3FejN3oy5l/s1600/tesco.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvXmhBiz2XLLqni_8Sx_RaKPe0yRQMaYtJjOoCmSW07MpcRhtUoaHpZ67Se7pRhmBeXzQQsHEoN7bbq1shjoN-xFUHA14lhaeNjLOnrHY0mZNURgddpyGEd3dTb9Spmed5Nn3FejN3oy5l/s320/tesco.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-size: small;">layers upon layers of plastic bags for 15 miserable pieces of pinggan mangkuk, no </span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: small;">thanks to 'eco-conscious' Tesco Mutiara Damansara. A real 'mangkuk ayun' state of being...</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>Kama At-Tarawishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11203707782759183847noreply@blogger.com29tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2548373318997308915.post-24786607243422000542012-07-06T11:31:00.000+08:002012-07-06T12:48:20.486+08:00<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">Ramadhan Fast 2 Feed 2012</span></i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjabMVmLEoo9tUc2tzwr06_HA-9cwsp4xVyZVPQfBELn4EXQKY445d8TFd5lLDDUldphSNqhufcz24ilERpZ0VfaF2XovjgTsFkWa66oypx-20ZvdftP6EqMLiQp-kfVKuJFV7KRPHpCiG7/s1600/f2f+logo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjabMVmLEoo9tUc2tzwr06_HA-9cwsp4xVyZVPQfBELn4EXQKY445d8TFd5lLDDUldphSNqhufcz24ilERpZ0VfaF2XovjgTsFkWa66oypx-20ZvdftP6EqMLiQp-kfVKuJFV7KRPHpCiG7/s320/f2f+logo.jpg" width="109" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Soon, the blessed month of Ramadhan, the ninth month of the Islamic calendar when Muslims fast from dawn to dusk, will be upon us once again. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">T<span style="background-color: white;">his holiest of all months in Islam is a time for spiritual reflection and worship, for fasting instils self-discipline and </span><span style="background-color: white;">encourages actions of generosity and charity.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;">As in past years, Muslim Aid Malaysia Humanitarian Foundation (Muslim Aid) embarks on its annual iftar fund-raising drive, <i>Ramadhan Fast 2 Feed</i>, to provide a window of charity for the faithful to feed the needy.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;"><i>Ramadhan Fast 2 Feed</i> organises breaking of fast at orphanages, homes and shelters throughout the country. Our network of volunteers are ready to swing into action once Ramadhan commences.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;">Some 20 locations have been determined and 1,500 participants confirmed thus far. They included orphans, poor families, destitutes and the elderly, as well as the Muslim refugee communities of Myanmar and Somalia currently domiciled in Malaysia. With your participation, more can be included in this year's programme. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white;">Come join us by sponsoring an orphan or an underprivileged child to 'buka puasa' and 'moreh', with a token sum as 'duit raya'. </span><span style="background-color: white;">We offer two packages:</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;">Package A of RM40/child entitles him/her to iftar, moreh & 'duit raya'. </span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;">Package B of RM60/child offers you the additional perk of partaking iftar with your sponsored child as well.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">How to participate:</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">1) Visit our office personally, or</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">2) by cheque made out to 'Yayasan Kemanusiaan Muslim Aid Malaysia' or </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">3) by cash deposit into <span style="background-color: white;"> </span><span style="background-color: white;">'Yayasan Kemanusiaan Muslim Aid Malaysia' account or</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;">4) by Interbank Giro or</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;">5) by credit card (Visa/Mastercard)</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Bank Account:</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Yayasan Kemanusiaan Muslim Aid Malaysia</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">CIMB Bank: 1422-0000070-10-8</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">(Kindly fax payment slip to 603-22881966)</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We welcome group/corporate participation, at RM3,000/- to RM5,000/- per location, depending on the number of recipients. You can also determine the home/shelter/orphanage of your choice if you so wish. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;">Should you wish to participate in this 'amal' programme, kindly e-mail your full details & payment slip to mail@muslimaidasia.com and state your preferred date for iftar. May our amal stand us in good stead in the Hereafter, Insyaallah.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtc0KqMWUKJCF31a9AS8FyPD2ybLGhgb6Cy3agz4TdnF7HLFqSeJQ5a8bf3LOk_8myIyxkMJcMRavG85jp5Bzbwqhk_uHss0RCnfPzdeiFTFuijImO2zStsboUGh77Kxdwf45QPnjfs36Y/s1600/f2f+asrama+anak+yatim+yayasan+hikmah+gopeng.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtc0KqMWUKJCF31a9AS8FyPD2ybLGhgb6Cy3agz4TdnF7HLFqSeJQ5a8bf3LOk_8myIyxkMJcMRavG85jp5Bzbwqhk_uHss0RCnfPzdeiFTFuijImO2zStsboUGh77Kxdwf45QPnjfs36Y/s320/f2f+asrama+anak+yatim+yayasan+hikmah+gopeng.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Last year's programme with Asrama Anak Yatim Hikmah, Gopeng, Perak</span>.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_nhPE_FRufWbiFxrpLiPxi9oD7vlbeqmt6u70ptdfJv8tv9OyPWJUT_XI7NpZKVYpoLrTTYammDLVdorCn4_FhrSXPhG342zposoCmCs2_t_SCVMqHrKb37_hyKvBmqJXnsZuv7DA6eGl/s1600/f2f+gunugn+semanggol.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_nhPE_FRufWbiFxrpLiPxi9oD7vlbeqmt6u70ptdfJv8tv9OyPWJUT_XI7NpZKVYpoLrTTYammDLVdorCn4_FhrSXPhG342zposoCmCs2_t_SCVMqHrKb37_hyKvBmqJXnsZuv7DA6eGl/s320/f2f+gunugn+semanggol.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Dengan keluarga miskin di Gunung Semanggol.</span></td></tr>
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<br /></div>Kama At-Tarawishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11203707782759183847noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2548373318997308915.post-72826787739767950332012-06-26T09:48:00.001+08:002012-06-26T10:43:56.334+08:00Creaming the Ice @ Ice-cream<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx66Z9wjRRGS99lIYROpdu9-vxTQC4zlYe21FrQXJZiqu3HwZQd-8SIfOq5T74-04HRMO1WKOaR_Q-WAg4NPgJ5xuULKofDmNGKvQ652tI9ckyDJGFzMYYoS-g2XFk4pF4pglfcY0D7uCL/s1600/icecream.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhx66Z9wjRRGS99lIYROpdu9-vxTQC4zlYe21FrQXJZiqu3HwZQd-8SIfOq5T74-04HRMO1WKOaR_Q-WAg4NPgJ5xuULKofDmNGKvQ652tI9ckyDJGFzMYYoS-g2XFk4pF4pglfcY0D7uCL/s320/icecream.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I know, I know... cobwebs have taken over this neglected blog. But today's a new beginning, </span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: large;">I promise..</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">1. Jeez, the blog title's NOT what you think, ok...</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The Cream & Fudge Ice Cream Shop, opening soon in Wangsa Maju (beside Wangsa Walk Mall) is hiring. If you have what it takes to cream the ice, they want you pronto. The place's family-owned (my niece's) and it's looking for supervisor and crew, both part-time and full-time. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Contact them for details:</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Puteri @ 012-2367219</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Amir @ 019-3298250</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We'll have a gala time at the opening, that much I can say.. So get ready to boogie!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>Kama At-Tarawishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11203707782759183847noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2548373318997308915.post-17547288982741766082012-05-24T19:20:00.001+08:002012-05-25T07:59:35.155+08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBEA-rN-w9evJ8_rKJDNQkucqjMx8Ox-G3dNZcb5c0nziFMvef4OKz94LHDScWu0BUCpcAluPUWwgvIOrboOQb8ofywqR2a-1aqLBg6r5gNGw5B8id3Ir6BYq0jHrwRqGY2BRou1Kx2FaK/s1600/MA-logo+charity+shop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBEA-rN-w9evJ8_rKJDNQkucqjMx8Ox-G3dNZcb5c0nziFMvef4OKz94LHDScWu0BUCpcAluPUWwgvIOrboOQb8ofywqR2a-1aqLBg6r5gNGw5B8id3Ir6BYq0jHrwRqGY2BRou1Kx2FaK/s1600/MA-logo+charity+shop.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Our Muslim Aid Charity Shop, officially named '</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Wellbeing M(A)LL'</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">, is slowly but surely taking shape. It is currently being prepared for its official opening on June 14. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large; text-align: justify;">Wellbeing M(A)LL shoplot is located on the first floor of Mutiara Bangsar building in Jalan Liku (off Jalan Pantai Baru) just a couple of doors away from our Yayasan Kemanusiaan Muslim Aid Malaysia office. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large; text-align: justify;">Shop address:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large; text-align: justify;">8-1-16, Menara Mutiara Bangsar</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large; text-align: justify;">Jalan Liku, off Jalan Pantai Baru</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large; text-align: justify;">59100 Kuala Lumpur</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large; text-align: justify;">Tel: 03-2288 1996</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large; text-align: justify;">Our boys and girls are putting in extra hours daily including weekends, doing inventory, pricing and display, as well as cleaning stock to ensure each and every item is in tiptop condition, ready to meet its new owner. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large; text-align: justify;">Dear readers, we need more items to fill our shelves. </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large; text-align: justify;">Please help us by donating your discarded stuffs, the ones idling in your closet or garage; still in reasonably good condition but you no longer have any use for. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large; text-align: justify;">Money raised through sale of items in the charity shop will go towards our many programmes and activities throughout the year. We can't depend on donors alone; we have to explore every avenue possible to raise funds. </span>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large; text-align: justify;">Everything is welcome; items of clothing (men, women, children's), footwear, handbags & clutches, suitcases, accessories, stationeries, books and magazines, gadgets, toys, kitchen appliances, kitchenware, glassware & china, selendang & shawls, decorative items, paintings.. in short, anything reusable.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">'Titleist' Golf Bag - almost new</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTIXcWYf8BCEEUSF1ACYZKzmL-dpqltt1rotlaUuJSLkTA-IqbEw1aid9e5uy0XtQ8DUjyHkJdzfM05o1WIlGeIIADImvUTMGRrBm-5e1e4c8Y4aysuuTcUBCI8GWgP24qBLXJc1Hl7pvj/s1600/MA-ogawa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTIXcWYf8BCEEUSF1ACYZKzmL-dpqltt1rotlaUuJSLkTA-IqbEw1aid9e5uy0XtQ8DUjyHkJdzfM05o1WIlGeIIADImvUTMGRrBm-5e1e4c8Y4aysuuTcUBCI8GWgP24qBLXJc1Hl7pvj/s320/MA-ogawa.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Muhammad 'testing' the Ogawa chair.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Baju kurung & blouses aplenty...</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Plastic containers for the kitchen.. </span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Our Facebook account has just been created. Do 'like' it (<a href="https://www.facebook.com/muslimaidcharityshop">here</a>), please, and help spread the word. The charity shop's blog and website will follow soon.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">More news on the development of the shop as we go along. Tunggu! </span></div>
</div>Kama At-Tarawishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11203707782759183847noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2548373318997308915.post-64345894502454889602012-05-19T16:21:00.002+08:002012-05-20T08:10:31.242+08:00Doli & Da Bomb<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Doli & Da Bomb. </b></span><span style="font-size: large;">Sounds like a singing group right out of the '60s, eh? Remember 'Naomi & The Boys', or 'Gerry & The Pacemakers' or perhaps 'Ruby & The Romantics'? </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">T</span><span style="font-size: large;">his posting, however, is not about food for the soul. Instead we're coursing through real 'makan' joints; koayteow stops to be precise, 'char' or otherwise. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">There is an eatery in TTDI (Taman Tun Dr Ismail, Kuala Lumpur, for the uninitiated) called </span><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Doli</b></span><span style="font-size: large;"> that serves many variations of this flat rice noodle. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Located at Jalan Wan Kadir off the main road near the TTDI wet market, </span><b style="font-size: x-large;">Doli</b><span style="font-size: large;">'</span><span style="font-size: large;">s</span><span style="font-size: large;"> stir-fried 'char koayteow' is among the best we have ever tasted. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Because prices at </span><b style="font-size: x-large;">Doli</b><span style="font-size: large;"> are pretty decent, and the fact that they also offer non-koayteow variety (chicken rice, curry mee, mee rebus etc), we patronise the place often. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">[Digressing a bit, the Cantonese-style kungfu chow served at the Royal Lake Club is super-tasty, and my personal favourite. The only problem with the club's 'Buttery' outlet is that its service has been competing against, and losing to, the tortoise for yonks. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">'Buttery' staff gives kura-kura a bad name. I am still trying to figure out why the service has not improved, especially since the club has been in existence for over 100 years]</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Back on the koayteow track... Three nights ago we discovered a joint that could give good ole <b>Doli</b> a run for its money. It's called <b>Bom Kitchen</b>, with </span><span style="font-size: large;">dishes tagged with 'explosive' names like 'grenade', 'dynamite' and 'C4'.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">About the only thing in <b>Doli</b>'s favour is the fact that </span><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Bom Kitchen</b> is way across town, in Keramat's AU2 area. The not-so-fun part is we have to 'tongkah' KL traffic, taking Damansara Ulu Kelang Expressway (DUKE) to Jalan Enggang to get to the place.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Bom Kitchen</b> may be just a warong (stall) business, but the dishes 'rawk', to borrow today's parlance. We took Muslim Aid's two interns Fairus and Sofia along, had a 'dynamite' each, and shared a humongous 'C4' dish between us.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The 'C4', costing RM19, can eat 3-4 and is <b>Bom Kitchen</b>'s signature dish. It's gravy-laden, with fresh seafood that's fried in batter first before using them as 'perencah' in 'C4'. The end result is a delicious, somewhat crispy squids and prawns nestling in a pan of noodles and gravy. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">'Granade' sells at RM4 per plate, 'dynamite' at RM5.00 per plate. I'm wondering when 'bazooka' will be introduced. </span><span style="font-size: large;">The stall opens 6.30pm to 1am daily and closes Tuesdays.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Another specialty is supercheap 'Nasi Bom', targetting youths and the lower-income. Pre-packed in the style of nasi lemak, Nasi Bom, which is rice and one lauk, sells for RM1.50 each. It's very popular with school kids and youngsters.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The place has been in operation for the last two months and maintains </span><span style="font-size: large;">its own Facebook account too </span><span style="font-size: large;">(click </span><a href="https://www.facebook.com/index.php?lh=5c206547be23bde86838ae58ba4c71cd&eu=1mK063VaeEhFDT7qp6bUfA#!/bomkitchen" style="font-size: x-large;">here</a><span style="font-size: large;">), thanks to its IT savvy co-owner, Muhammad, who runs the joint with </span><span style="font-size: large;">a couple of partners (they cook, he waits at the tables and cleans up).</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Muhammad is doing his post-graduate studies weekends in business management. The trained engineer is a social worker by day. Engage him in a discourse on humanitarian work while you are there; he would 'layan' you if the place isn't too busy..</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">To get to <b>Bom Kitchen</b> from PJ, take DUKE towards the city and turn into Keramat via Jalan Enggang (at almost the tail end of the expressway). There's a roundabout as soon as you enter Jalan Enggang.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Take 3pm and drive up until you see Jusco on your left. Make a U-turn at the traffic light ahead, and take immediate left (the road climbs up a bit) and left again. Be extra-careful with the U-turn, though. Demonic drivers are a-plenty behind the wheels, even at traffic lights.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The jalan where the warong is located, <b>Jalan 24/56, AU2</b>, is a horseshoe and the stall is a stand-alone, with no other businesses alongside or nearby. </span><span style="font-size: large;">Go on folks, give it a try. Am sure you won't be disappointed...</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1VZAgbPordrDPrdITnhy2hUsRZmsU85CmemilcOediIrTUl-1qdjRdLtYmB-YEILJNSTV-U6E5UZc7N2rASZtz55scU8ItOAjtW3pc7jHGmaKS6lVpp_sZJW_P9oyIqCek1m2DH_7tgGU/s1600/bom-c4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="219" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1VZAgbPordrDPrdITnhy2hUsRZmsU85CmemilcOediIrTUl-1qdjRdLtYmB-YEILJNSTV-U6E5UZc7N2rASZtz55scU8ItOAjtW3pc7jHGmaKS6lVpp_sZJW_P9oyIqCek1m2DH_7tgGU/s320/bom-c4.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">C4 to whet your appetite...</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_y_zvN6fdGgOlCaRfDaSygOt_3ZZuuSKu_Y1Iwy5-5AvMmEc9yZmIddoie-bTxCmx8RmyPT4iiV91PhPv6Ok-UuCtefv6o81Pzc8pzNutJ9BdbkBrI-V-1thcNMoeP3h228LfnLOn-TOJ/s1600/bombanner1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_y_zvN6fdGgOlCaRfDaSygOt_3ZZuuSKu_Y1Iwy5-5AvMmEc9yZmIddoie-bTxCmx8RmyPT4iiV91PhPv6Ok-UuCtefv6o81Pzc8pzNutJ9BdbkBrI-V-1thcNMoeP3h228LfnLOn-TOJ/s320/bombanner1.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Welcome banner at Bom Kitchen </span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzTxfl_yfM9gRan2SVWnYbzWx9THI4LeQ2Mn8gv3vpIpChub2mPJjJVvslnKSL0cu9tdAHQRsegEIq7hxs2-_eu7APvqIfZb8DT2yywKU0XBDj3Ny_7Jy6y6TK5FTZxxxh0ex9ce3n5KJq/s1600/bom-interns.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="202" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzTxfl_yfM9gRan2SVWnYbzWx9THI4LeQ2Mn8gv3vpIpChub2mPJjJVvslnKSL0cu9tdAHQRsegEIq7hxs2-_eu7APvqIfZb8DT2yywKU0XBDj3Ny_7Jy6y6TK5FTZxxxh0ex9ce3n5KJq/s320/bom-interns.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Sofia (left) and Fairus menjamu selera..</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikG5NQiyPueBmv2wR8ajgWEoCzC6awiDKvZ0GAMk5vKMKPhP8fKNN2muOpowZGaaooQTH1QAFgiTzKPuDQKW-Uwq-OHMk8sYQ7JPCAWlua6YSGIsFKST6EeGB805CpC0bkBbXB6jU6XztM/s1600/bom-dynamite.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikG5NQiyPueBmv2wR8ajgWEoCzC6awiDKvZ0GAMk5vKMKPhP8fKNN2muOpowZGaaooQTH1QAFgiTzKPuDQKW-Uwq-OHMk8sYQ7JPCAWlua6YSGIsFKST6EeGB805CpC0bkBbXB6jU6XztM/s320/bom-dynamite.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Dynamite, anyone?</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">"Meletop di mulut, bukan di tangan"</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDwjB93ejRT5OUcn_mSkBaI8twSfupAhTUYpKRuEfkGao33ee1skKI9IQ8y-28hcKZp1J92z3xiE2GNN1uFiytCUA0EXcQMGQBHBawgwqISTBBtFO7N_AbZTU-Wq_wsbiSAKgUEwILtudx/s1600/bom-pama.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="230" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDwjB93ejRT5OUcn_mSkBaI8twSfupAhTUYpKRuEfkGao33ee1skKI9IQ8y-28hcKZp1J92z3xiE2GNN1uFiytCUA0EXcQMGQBHBawgwqISTBBtFO7N_AbZTU-Wq_wsbiSAKgUEwILtudx/s320/bom-pama.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;">Sedapp...</span></td></tr>
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</div>Kama At-Tarawishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11203707782759183847noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2548373318997308915.post-87458594939808158282012-05-13T09:01:00.000+08:002012-05-14T00:36:07.562+08:00Thoughts On Mother's Day<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">From the day I breathed my first to the day she breathed her last, my mother and I were never close. It was fated that we we not meant to be, but that didn't mean I had loved her any less. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Throughout my childhood, I had referred to her as <i>Kak Nor.</i> I never knew her as anything but my eldest sister, the first child of the woman I called <i>Mak</i>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I must have been 10 when it finally dawned on me that <i>Mak</i> was actually my grandmother and that <i>Kak Nor</i> was the one who gave birth to me. Such revelations naturally took a lot of adjusting to, and I was a confused child for a while.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">If coping with the transition from <i>Kak Nor</i> to <i>Mak</i> was tough, acknowledging the elevation of grandma's status from <i>Mak</i> to <i>Opah</i> was even tougher. I dealt with the situation the only way I knew, by burying myself into books.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">My mother was a petite woman who had managed to maintain her slight figure well into her 50s. Size-wise, I am no nowhere near, for I take after my father's side of the family; t</span><span style="font-size: large;">he Megat women were relatively tall, big-boned and sturdy. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">The women on my maternal grandpa's side of the family, being Kelantanese, were a resilient lot, that much I can say. Thus I am not surprised to share the traits; fiercely protective of the brood, independent in thought and deed, with none of us suffering fools gladly.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Despite a couple of hiccups along the way (the divorce from my father being one), <i>Mak</i> had had a fairly uneventful life. </span><span style="font-size: large;">She remarried, produced 5 daughters, and remained in the blissful union for almost 40 years, until <i>Bapak</i>'s demise in the late '90s. <i>Mak</i> left us four years ago, age 73.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipBMw1eoUIaKnU191FF6CWPihCr4J-a8P8q0oPt6N9B6qBK07hzhV5d_-uB_tVzLMVBJwvdOCLdXBIv033BMQ_VF0NRrDeHX7Jeclk-KYitKch5qog-OrHm6c6Na4NIQwhyphenhypheno4yNv4K7kJc/s1600/dungun-grave.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="317" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipBMw1eoUIaKnU191FF6CWPihCr4J-a8P8q0oPt6N9B6qBK07hzhV5d_-uB_tVzLMVBJwvdOCLdXBIv033BMQ_VF0NRrDeHX7Jeclk-KYitKch5qog-OrHm6c6Na4NIQwhyphenhypheno4yNv4K7kJc/s320/dungun-grave.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>"May Allah swt bless you with the best there is, Mak. We love you and miss you; the pain never heals."</i> Al-Fatihah.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">*You may want to read related postings: </span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">1. <i> </i>I Want ....</span><br />
<a href="http://kamabakar.blogspot.com/2008/09/i-want.html">http://kamabakar.blogspot.com/2008/09/i-want.html</a>
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">2. Dungun Di Hati ku</span><br />
<a href="http://kamabakar.blogspot.com/2010/03/dungun-di-hatiku.html">http://kamabakar.blogspot.com/2010/03/dungun-di-hatiku.html</a>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">3. Requiem For My Mother</span><br />
<a href="http://kamabakar.blogspot.com/2008/06/fare-thee-well-my-beloved-mother.html">http://kamabakar.blogspot.com/2008/06/fare-thee-well-my-beloved-mother.html</a>
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">4. Mak In Remembrance</span><br />
<a href="http://kamabakar.blogspot.com/2008/06/mak-in-remembrance.html">http://kamabakar.blogspot.com/2008/06/mak-in-remembrance.html</a>
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<br />Kama At-Tarawishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11203707782759183847noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2548373318997308915.post-85576232432133593452012-05-09T23:28:00.000+08:002012-05-12T13:19:09.585+08:00Refugee Children - Their Sorry Plight<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: justify;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwVUnT7XANR79RVcrY_mbeB5XjIlFPlp2aHOsnht11lDAeI0EawITDvJt9xKQ65oZ3X9KP1JzeRrmyDcqGtbhhTyUaztEmkJPUFKWv8zlyeN8WjiTkid1CH-xg31bvyaHxwffdgWPie9LE/s1600/tahfiz-muka+suci.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwVUnT7XANR79RVcrY_mbeB5XjIlFPlp2aHOsnht11lDAeI0EawITDvJt9xKQ65oZ3X9KP1JzeRrmyDcqGtbhhTyUaztEmkJPUFKWv8zlyeN8WjiTkid1CH-xg31bvyaHxwffdgWPie9LE/s320/tahfiz-muka+suci.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">The innocents..</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmT-V8BHYPHbQ9Nqwoz7JmrT4ZhcPEwalj6p0bfZM3H2JBCiJaBtWex0VXi6aq2rcCDDSRs-0YzRoSm7GXmHNu-KL1-SY7x-Jbsnm1Geya40bjKPz9VxgyElVYjqieWtqScVYWlcM_Dgho/s1600/tahfiz-the+faces+of+innocence.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmT-V8BHYPHbQ9Nqwoz7JmrT4ZhcPEwalj6p0bfZM3H2JBCiJaBtWex0VXi6aq2rcCDDSRs-0YzRoSm7GXmHNu-KL1-SY7x-Jbsnm1Geya40bjKPz9VxgyElVYjqieWtqScVYWlcM_Dgho/s320/tahfiz-the+faces+of+innocence.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Hafiz</i>es (Quran memorisers) in the making ...</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOR31VTKWpyCg78eWwmN0bk698xEFH_FGhCC3BWgTvdHZvmHgT3CgXIn87RGcU5Ho9HkCLficzsKpHhh5cdkcYpNml5DRdcWh7wFelCDICRM83ZH0xSOLpd2uB3wEdDKigWM3qHfzn-Otu/s1600/tahfiz-faced+of+innocence1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOR31VTKWpyCg78eWwmN0bk698xEFH_FGhCC3BWgTvdHZvmHgT3CgXIn87RGcU5Ho9HkCLficzsKpHhh5cdkcYpNml5DRdcWh7wFelCDICRM83ZH0xSOLpd2uB3wEdDKigWM3qHfzn-Otu/s320/tahfiz-faced+of+innocence1.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">An uncertain future awaits this little one .. </span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXav9Y0SixuzQ4xjQorrWpUXZfbRgwfEY7ni5JOc4SalSfS_oZkC-LhvqSpG-19Bbk0GSl4envSVN8PmZrql08hggpDzy8BTVqX00Bd9fKRD1PSr3daSdan06uUYZ4r09q3f_tfuHM4a9n/s1600/tahfiz-mohd.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXav9Y0SixuzQ4xjQorrWpUXZfbRgwfEY7ni5JOc4SalSfS_oZkC-LhvqSpG-19Bbk0GSl4envSVN8PmZrql08hggpDzy8BTVqX00Bd9fKRD1PSr3daSdan06uUYZ4r09q3f_tfuHM4a9n/s320/tahfiz-mohd.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">Father-of-one Muhammad is an engineer by training and a social worker by choice.
<span style="text-align: justify;">'Mat' handles project development for Muslim Aid by day, runs an eatery with some friends by night, and attends lectures weekends towards his MBA. </span> </span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQsBgwe9ORqqoMzfepkWe-KuSmnX2lBsvsECJ3SKnu1RfsSkPaGZzY1V6kwmpwbZPKT9B2KqPfoSdYdXiMIlVp3VGPAg-AIv43r4gn5jyM6McgtLi9LTXIr8XQ6mUKrNFRDCrC8FQhB5bF/s1600/tahfiz-my+interns.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQsBgwe9ORqqoMzfepkWe-KuSmnX2lBsvsECJ3SKnu1RfsSkPaGZzY1V6kwmpwbZPKT9B2KqPfoSdYdXiMIlVp3VGPAg-AIv43r4gn5jyM6McgtLi9LTXIr8XQ6mUKrNFRDCrC8FQhB5bF/s320/tahfiz-my+interns.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify;">Muslim Aid interns Fairus (left) and Sofia are UiTM students. Physics graduate Fairus, from Kulim, is on her last lap doing pure mathematics at the university, and spends her free time teaching mathematics to Orang Asli kids at a shelter supported by Muslim Aid. <br /><br />Kuantan lass Sofia is a marketing major whose interest lies in creative arts. She has taken a year off study to devote her time to humanitarian causes, coming on board Muslim Aid a couple of weeks back.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMEma8y_q3o26heS81aoREKKVzj2V3la3k-HjJsn_aHzxx3SU18dN-vNyAF5suLZ7aNc3oAbww4G9yDhlRUfyeo4ibjhR1eq6WYNb-xbKHPdVLbXRFDfkefkahSh7pppST_1gpGZ8OszFk/s1600/tahfiz-depan+entrance.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMEma8y_q3o26heS81aoREKKVzj2V3la3k-HjJsn_aHzxx3SU18dN-vNyAF5suLZ7aNc3oAbww4G9yDhlRUfyeo4ibjhR1eq6WYNb-xbKHPdVLbXRFDfkefkahSh7pppST_1gpGZ8OszFk/s320/tahfiz-depan+entrance.jpg" width="208" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">"Madrasah Anak-anak Yatim dan Tahfiz Quran Hashimiah - School of Orphans" is housed in a dilapidated shoplot in the vicinity of Selayang wholesale market (<i>pasar borong</i>). The school, with 165 children, occupies the second and third floor of the four-storey building.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFANMORpS6BBRuTOfPBRqSH1xKEzkEg9TcbS3C0FJstLaz5_BJIFmJxpoJr-Ai3kVHJ_MyHVzWa3MswZAB_JfZyMNXxLPPRcEsSBPIopTYgoWhWVNusS2kdM0q3nwdcuaDSOavTQSPuJP5/s1600/tahfiz-ustaz-surat+tauliah.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFANMORpS6BBRuTOfPBRqSH1xKEzkEg9TcbS3C0FJstLaz5_BJIFmJxpoJr-Ai3kVHJ_MyHVzWa3MswZAB_JfZyMNXxLPPRcEsSBPIopTYgoWhWVNusS2kdM0q3nwdcuaDSOavTQSPuJP5/s320/tahfiz-ustaz-surat+tauliah.jpg" width="240" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify;">Ustaz Hashim, a Myanmar Muslim, is the heart and soul behind the <i>madrasah</i></span><span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify;">. Apart from running the school, this UNHCR refugee status holder teaches Islam to locals, ploughing back whatever he earns into the <i>madrasah</i>. Ustaz Hashim received his teaching certification from <i>Majlis Agama Islam Wilayah Persekutuan</i> in April 2012. Here he proudly displays the </span><span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify;">much sought-after <i>watikah</i>, a lifeline to this man whose only mission in life is to do things right.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT2ZFzsbaS29NIBUmiX3iWbqh5oDieC91A-rVlgbCtNjGzxodns7FKRHlxjXaUw2CH_L6DYvh8ZshRsFIoj-LqszsajBtNd9jSylhxEaPIdHYlYc-HHnad2s6yGEuSFCfvzASbP4iIdGY5/s1600/tahfiz-quran+carik2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT2ZFzsbaS29NIBUmiX3iWbqh5oDieC91A-rVlgbCtNjGzxodns7FKRHlxjXaUw2CH_L6DYvh8ZshRsFIoj-LqszsajBtNd9jSylhxEaPIdHYlYc-HHnad2s6yGEuSFCfvzASbP4iIdGY5/s320/tahfiz-quran+carik2.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMFZ2TfJIVoReE668kbrvu2f3SiNQE-aWtbpcmwXyDuZE6XjV6r94-lIzgOGKHBVrvA-dH3If9-c3Wh2_a2x_H6PJ81ukytJuTK1li7qjc1kv_sHZzJ34OiUEZwCLYi1As6jZeoWv0bOH4/s1600/tahfiz-quran+carik3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMFZ2TfJIVoReE668kbrvu2f3SiNQE-aWtbpcmwXyDuZE6XjV6r94-lIzgOGKHBVrvA-dH3If9-c3Wh2_a2x_H6PJ81ukytJuTK1li7qjc1kv_sHZzJ34OiUEZwCLYi1As6jZeoWv0bOH4/s320/tahfiz-quran+carik3.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Quran and other religious books in a sorry state, torn and tattered <i>Quran buruk</i> aplenty. Yet, small hands reach out to them everyday, reading and reciting, memorising the verses, guided by teachers who just refused to give up.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcTlp5beTBPSnlo6FdkN6bcnp9QNDk5kiLq1FVnkuIvSzyoWgcJyg9Wx9tJRA7cCLKr0Sk4q6iharEM7R3LyHbiUs8KFZVPAc7QpXPNWF1AUCqNxlQUqu9PiQFBxmhcT4b5P2jAbRmlr_6/s1600/tahfiz-makeshift+desks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcTlp5beTBPSnlo6FdkN6bcnp9QNDk5kiLq1FVnkuIvSzyoWgcJyg9Wx9tJRA7cCLKr0Sk4q6iharEM7R3LyHbiUs8KFZVPAc7QpXPNWF1AUCqNxlQUqu9PiQFBxmhcT4b5P2jAbRmlr_6/s320/tahfiz-makeshift+desks.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Makeshift desks, shelved to the wall during <i>makan</i> and <i>tidur </i>times..</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihxJ9NrciMILYYLorTKkOXcm_-UEetSa4LuTcUbx-2KOMnIQbHLU4TteAWcDQE0kstTsnVGGFfb4i1PIhRI4pgCPc0deMaJnlcpEhWSoRTJwS-wTUGd4WN65MW9k-w1UBGe84Hcvc1Jwu4/s1600/tahfiz-tempat+simpan+pakaian.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihxJ9NrciMILYYLorTKkOXcm_-UEetSa4LuTcUbx-2KOMnIQbHLU4TteAWcDQE0kstTsnVGGFfb4i1PIhRI4pgCPc0deMaJnlcpEhWSoRTJwS-wTUGd4WN65MW9k-w1UBGe84Hcvc1Jwu4/s320/tahfiz-tempat+simpan+pakaian.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify;">Just screw some aluminium sheets together against the wall, rope in a basket or two, pile in all the odds and ends and walla, there's your storage rack.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkNgOEbZo4JF3xYHAzLxPiTdcYHoX7FzhIBeypM9hgGPxemjt4zjb_DdE6uQL9TIt6JulmQMa2c98M5X1G73qEXB4b2l6sg_CG8UO1gh7MgkvmsjhCNyPc9OGMIAD8MYloXrnnALG1jUMu/s1600/tahfiz-naptime.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkNgOEbZo4JF3xYHAzLxPiTdcYHoX7FzhIBeypM9hgGPxemjt4zjb_DdE6uQL9TIt6JulmQMa2c98M5X1G73qEXB4b2l6sg_CG8UO1gh7MgkvmsjhCNyPc9OGMIAD8MYloXrnnALG1jUMu/s320/tahfiz-naptime.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Rest before lunch. By the way, this is also where the children sleep come night time. Some of them go home to their respective families after school, but to most, the <i>madrasah</i> is 'home'.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs-RG0r86GSQp9dNiDoEwRSGOUswT5fsHUgcDpwoL4LAZfHgmnh8fio2soCxGZ2-E33s8B_t8E_YmnELGOWnowh3_i8MG6UEmWNyYm1nN2R9Bb8byHrhuqnXVz6_ZphLMFmjWGGGHY1lMv/s1600/tahfiz-nap-3boys.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs-RG0r86GSQp9dNiDoEwRSGOUswT5fsHUgcDpwoL4LAZfHgmnh8fio2soCxGZ2-E33s8B_t8E_YmnELGOWnowh3_i8MG6UEmWNyYm1nN2R9Bb8byHrhuqnXVz6_ZphLMFmjWGGGHY1lMv/s320/tahfiz-nap-3boys.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">The 30-minute rest is made mandatory to ensure the kids are alert for their afternoon lessons. </span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbWbsmXQAEYwlqjgqwQVeB8917q_eImTxQUDBKbNPS4jJvJN_igBylzezj6pTFCqJlgHZwV8zx35fA0rgOdNzk_G8v_3cCMzZUuXsIHwnjCrCy2hLiS9ICbslPN-nSBQrca6NbQbFUjnAj/s1600/tahfiz-makan1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbWbsmXQAEYwlqjgqwQVeB8917q_eImTxQUDBKbNPS4jJvJN_igBylzezj6pTFCqJlgHZwV8zx35fA0rgOdNzk_G8v_3cCMzZUuXsIHwnjCrCy2hLiS9ICbslPN-nSBQrca6NbQbFUjnAj/s320/tahfiz-makan1.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Here they are, patiently waiting for food to be served. </span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOxHYfKxJ524Xvd75ipkGTZN5zk7n7JuFXnU5z3THl-5zVJBTK79hbCAinkdbxdTE0HCSbEb_K78LtnvRkahihQV77C_AJ6qdEvzCJG2ztPQF3vE9SMlx34MstECF6_huSr3yj1X9IdI6V/s1600/tahfiz-makan2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOxHYfKxJ524Xvd75ipkGTZN5zk7n7JuFXnU5z3THl-5zVJBTK79hbCAinkdbxdTE0HCSbEb_K78LtnvRkahihQV77C_AJ6qdEvzCJG2ztPQF3vE9SMlx34MstECF6_huSr3yj1X9IdI6V/s320/tahfiz-makan2.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">It's lunchtime!</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzm_nWWsBLzeqZe7dHRXosT-UQCy9gjyObHu4NOGG_lQz_rSisqlZyDPSlN-pr_SauJ5N7iZHuiEhXhOaC6QgmqwLrkxlXaWnW6U0AlvIzmjmieXO9S9resYs4-vBhj3DRWTGQkeenJUz2/s1600/tahfiz-makan3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzm_nWWsBLzeqZe7dHRXosT-UQCy9gjyObHu4NOGG_lQz_rSisqlZyDPSlN-pr_SauJ5N7iZHuiEhXhOaC6QgmqwLrkxlXaWnW6U0AlvIzmjmieXO9S9resYs4-vBhj3DRWTGQkeenJUz2/s320/tahfiz-makan3.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Kusyuk menjamu selera</i>...</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDssuftvi78MUoLKJhFfn-vdIXeT5QIwkULwqeWzFqF2SpwTvIYcKNfhni70vhgWtO4X_3iywbu1uMK6-b7JnY_O9VMfwGjq2ZHybUaGKsx8IpBYhyiMdfxvI74vl7-z1fRD2sSmWIttKf/s1600/tahfiz-doa+before+food.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDssuftvi78MUoLKJhFfn-vdIXeT5QIwkULwqeWzFqF2SpwTvIYcKNfhni70vhgWtO4X_3iywbu1uMK6-b7JnY_O9VMfwGjq2ZHybUaGKsx8IpBYhyiMdfxvI74vl7-z1fRD2sSmWIttKf/s320/tahfiz-doa+before+food.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">A prayer of thanks ...</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1Qf_V0fD9AuS5psaUBPj6AqeHtnxnGO3A37-xkFwMS5zGwfKwXuqkChZepcMonDKEWu4GsyJMUwLsQsLwbbRRUNLhM_6JzwlO5cIq4gchPT3ByMcWjdE-HLyfFiaLrOry2nxJS40qU1fB/s1600/tahfiz-lauk+for+the+day.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1Qf_V0fD9AuS5psaUBPj6AqeHtnxnGO3A37-xkFwMS5zGwfKwXuqkChZepcMonDKEWu4GsyJMUwLsQsLwbbRRUNLhM_6JzwlO5cIq4gchPT3ByMcWjdE-HLyfFiaLrOry2nxJS40qU1fB/s320/tahfiz-lauk+for+the+day.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">...even if the only <i>lauk </i>is potato curry..</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="text-align: justify;">No matter what their status, children have fundamental rights to education. In Malaysia, there are 18,700 refugee children under the age of 18. </span><span style="text-align: justify;">Of this, 13,800 are of school-going age, but proper schooling is denied them solely because of their 'stateless' status. </span><span style="text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;">[More about refugee children in Malaysia</span><span style="text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;"> </span><a href="http://www.unhcr.org.my/refugeeMsia.htm" style="text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;">here</a><span style="text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;">].</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;">Here at Madrasah Hashimiah, there are 165 such children, age four to 16. Some 70 of these kids are girls. Of the total, 50 are orphans; 40 with relatives (who are fellow refugees) while 10 are <i>yatim piatu</i> (with neither parents nor kin) who depend entirely on the goodwill of its principal, 42 year-old Ustaz Hashim, and his family to survive. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;">I have lived in KL for 39 years, but shamefully, this was my first visit to this part of the city. I was told this slice of Selayang is known as the 'Burmese Quarters' for this is where most Myanmar Muslim refugees in Malaysia live. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;">[Note: Myanmar Muslims are not to be confused with the Rohingyas, a Burmese Muslim ethnic group originating from the Myanmar-Bangladesh border area; the Rohingyas can be found mostly in Klang and Penang]</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;">Because Malaysia is not a signatory to the UN convention on refugees, it has no domestic legal protection for asylum seekers. [Read <a href="http://www.unhcr.org/pages/49e4884c6.html">here</a> for more].</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;">Like many other asylum seekers in Malaysia, Myanmar Muslims can't hold proper jobs. As such, no matter how educated they are, many end up as labourers at the Selayang wholesale market, thus their congregation in the area. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;">The kids were in the middle of their morning lessons when our Muslim Aid team of four arrived to check on the progress of the school, and to have a status meeting with Ustaz Hashim.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;">The <i>madrasah </i>has been in operation since 1994 and has survived the years through the generosity and kindness of well-wishers,both NGOs and the general public. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;">There are currently 10 teachers (local and fellow refugees) attached to to school. They are paid a pittance to teach (RM500 - RM800 is the norm) but many remain committed to the children.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;">Ustaz Hashim lamented the low pay but said he just couldn't afford to pay better salaries. "In fact we need more teachers especially for Bahasa Malaysia and <i>tahfiz</i> (Quran recital) but I am at my wits end trying to figure out how to meet their pay."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;">The children are taught Quran & Islamic Knowledge, English, Bahasa Malaysia, their mother tongue the Burmese language and mathematics. Mornings are reserved for religious lessons, afternoons for the rest of the syllabus. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;">The school is currently in dire need of Bahasa Malaysia textbooks (Standard 1 to Standard 4) and appeals to the public for donation. "It's so hard to teach with everything lacking," opined Ustaz Hashim.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;">The emphasis, however, is on learning the Quran. Many children from the<i> madrasah </i>become <i>hafiz </i>every year and a ceremony is held annually to acknowledge this achievement. </span><span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;">This year the presentation ceremony will be held in June and as in years past, Muslim Aid will have a hand in organising the event. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;">Despite their straitened circumstances, the kids are holding up quite well. Personally, I have not seen a better-behaved, bright-eyed bunch in a long time. I was told by Muhammad, who has been working with the refugee community for many years, that refugee children in this country were generally courteous and well-disciplined. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;">Last year, in a national <i>tilawah</i> (Quran recital competition) for children's homes and orphanages throughout the country, a boy from this<i> madrasah</i> came out tops; quite an achievement for a school that lacks almost everything but the will to survive. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;">According to Ustaz Hashim, it costs RM10,000 a month just to feed the children twice daily. "As you can see, we are not lavish with food either; it's only one dish a day with rice. Occasionally we give them meat or chicken." </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;">The day we were there, the kids had rice with <i>gulai kentang.</i> </span><span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;">I struggled to hold back my tears, thinking just the night before I took the family out for a lavish Chinese dinner to celebrate a son's birthday.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;">A popular woman artiste is a regular donor here, providing hundreds of kilos of rice on the quiet every month while a Buddhist organisation pays for the madrasah's monthly utility bills (bless you, Tzu Chi). </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;">Recently, a new problem surfaced, challenging the <i>madrasah</i>'s existence. The owner of the premises had indicated that he wanted to sell the property, and had offered it to the <i>madrasah </i>as first choice, for RM800,000.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;">"We may have to look for an alternative place soon. Much as I want to buy this place, <i>wakaf </i>it and turn it into a permanent school, I don't see how can I ever find the money," he said.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;">Ustaz Hashim said it made perfect sense to buy the shoplot for many reasons. Currently they are paying RM1,400 rent for the two floors but the school population is expanding rapidly and space is getting really cramped. </span><span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;">"We are in dire need of another floor, but we can't afford the rent." </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;">A fair bit of renovations have also been done to accommodate the children's needs (<i>wudhu</i> area etc). The key reason, however, is logistics. The <i>madrasah</i> is smack in the middle of Burmese Quarters where the Myanmar Muslim refugees live. Moving it outside the established boundaries would mean creating a host of new headaches - transportation for the children, for example. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;">In the meantime, it's business as usual at "Madrasah Anak-anak Yatim dan Tahfiz Quran Hashimiah - School of Orphans." The kids still need to be fed, clothed, tutored and taught, lack of money notwithstanding....</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;">Founder/Principal:</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;">Ustaz Hafiz Hashim bin Qassim (</span><span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;">019-2621671)</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;">Address:</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;">111-3, Kompleks Pasar Borong, Jalan 2/3A</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;">Km 12, Jalan Ipoh, Selayang</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;">68100 Batu Caves, Kuala Lumpur</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large; text-align: justify; text-indent: -18pt;">Monetary donations can also be made through Yayasan Kemanusiaan Muslim Aid Malaysia. Please call 03-22881996 (MUhammad/Puteri) for details. </span>Kama At-Tarawishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11203707782759183847noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2548373318997308915.post-49385697883360942402012-04-26T18:41:00.002+08:002012-04-27T16:21:36.146+08:00Walk A Mile In Their Shoes ....<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx8biu1sU2dyjx2Oy0l2yJU9ea8UYkAGUT33Q3ksSpZj87tBuGrW8TYAMY_aRK_nBoJnIjk1J_P3osZt6wZv5GkO8NUU_SQ4xqn78MwmEXKhDY-gEg3jR-g5zYUtKUaiAZd3khD7SwS8b8/s1600/anak+yatim.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx8biu1sU2dyjx2Oy0l2yJU9ea8UYkAGUT33Q3ksSpZj87tBuGrW8TYAMY_aRK_nBoJnIjk1J_P3osZt6wZv5GkO8NUU_SQ4xqn78MwmEXKhDY-gEg3jR-g5zYUtKUaiAZd3khD7SwS8b8/s320/anak+yatim.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Refugee children of Sekolah Tahfiz Hashimiah, Selayang</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">(Tersangat daif keadaan mereka)</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">In striving towards a healthier lifestyle, there is nothing like a good, brisk walk to help shed the pounds. And if that walk happens to be in the name of charity, that's double the merit. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">If your schedule isn't too packed next week Saturday, come walk with us for a good cause. Those easy strides of yours may well enable some needy kids to attend school properly equipped and attired, and on a full stomach too. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">"A Mile For A Smile" is a 3.3km walkathon bringing together Muslim Aid Malaysia Humanitarian Foundation (Muslim Aid) and Universiti Teknologi Mara (UiTM) as joint collaborators, to raise money for an education fund currently being planned by Muslim Aid for orphans and underprivileged children. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The walkathon is an effort by 'Euphoria Event', a student group under UiTM's Bachelor of Event Management (honours) programme. The course is meant to train undergraduates into becoming competent event managers, planners and coordinators. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">It will be held on Saturday May 5, 2012, at Taman Metropolitan, a landscaped theme urban park spread over 117 hectares in Kepong, on the fringes of the city. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The recreational park with an excellent trail is well-known to city dwellers as the place where kite fanciers gather (by the side of a man-made lake) to indulge in their passion of kite flying.</span>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><u>Programme:</u></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><u><br /></u></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">7.30 am arrival and registration</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">8.30 warm-up session "Senam 1Malaysia"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">9.00 walkathon begins</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">10.30 walkathon ends</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">10.45 arrival of VIP/sponsor reps</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">11.00 recitation of doa</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">11.10 opening address </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">11.20 Asst VC officiates event</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">11.30 prize giving</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">12.00 photography session</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">12.30 event concludes</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Fee for registration and participation are as follows: RM25 per adult, RM15 per student and RM12 per child under the age of 12. Money raised go towards the establishment of the Muslim Aid Education Fund for orphans and underprivileged children. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">In the forefront as beneficiaries are children from the various Orang Asli communities. Many of these tribal folks still live the old ways, hunting & gathering deep in the forests, but their kids need to be kept in school hostels to ensure they get proper schooling.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Also needing help are refugee children currently here, many of whom orphans and destitute. Their future may be in limbo but they are entitled to an education like any other child in the world. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">For the likes of us who have the ways and the means to do something to contribute towards their well-being, no effort should be spared. It's nothing less than<i> amal jariah</i> on our part. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Walker sponsorship is welcome and team participation, especially from the corporate sector, is greatly appreciated. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">For more details and the registration form, please visit our website at:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"> <a href="http://www.muslimaidasia.com/">http://www.muslimaidasia.com</a>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>Kama At-Tarawishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11203707782759183847noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2548373318997308915.post-48316369583988350952012-04-19T12:06:00.002+08:002012-04-19T16:11:02.574+08:00Muslim Aid Malaysia Humanitarian Foundation<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUH82gsrkjKxuxzeW4LwA9zSIvou0u6bta4szJOSu_3MbiH3WO_gzFDKQ_-lj62KuOSjrpmkJ4EvpCO9oxgSoxLchWtGRdOFMEWOUOLyWofWaCkmfyqFwrs9NFILa_dlmEMXEcWiUA4C-G/s1600/ma-khatan,children+ofrohingya+refugees.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" qda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUH82gsrkjKxuxzeW4LwA9zSIvou0u6bta4szJOSu_3MbiH3WO_gzFDKQ_-lj62KuOSjrpmkJ4EvpCO9oxgSoxLchWtGRdOFMEWOUOLyWofWaCkmfyqFwrs9NFILa_dlmEMXEcWiUA4C-G/s320/ma-khatan,children+ofrohingya+refugees.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Khatan (Circumcision) for children of Rohingya refugees, Selayang, KL. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">Apologies are due for my apparent neglect of <strong>Kata Kama.</strong> It has been almost three weeks since the last entry and I really have to get back into the groove of things.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">I don't usually leave the blog unattended for long periods but there have been much work lately (no complaints there, though), besides a few other 'must see-to' </span><span style="font-size: large;">commitments. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">Just for the record, I recently joined <em>Muslim Aid Malaysia Humanitarian Foundation</em>, the local arm of international NGO, <strong>Muslim Aid</strong>,<strong> </strong>to assist in areas I am familiar with i.e. public relations, marcom and fund-raising. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">It's quite a departure from the rough and tumble corporate world I once was a part of, but with the grace of God, I think I'll manage, Insyaallah.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I take comfort in the fact that I'm no stranger to NGOs promoting humanitarian causes, having been a Rotary Club member for almost a decade in the mid '90s.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> <span style="font-size: large;">With all the projects that Muslim Aid Malaysia has lined up for the year and beyond, we are looking at a busy time ahead.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">Broadly speaking, Muslim Aid is a non-political and non-sectarian international aid agency, inspired by Islamic values, to serve the needy irrespective of religion, race, ethnicity, nationality or political creed.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">Beneficiaries include the orphaned, refugees and internally displaced people, communities caught in cycles of poverty, and survivors of disasters. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">Muslim Aid Malaysia, the local arm of the international relief agency, was granted tax exemption status in 2009 by the Inland Revenue Board of Malaysia (LHDN), thereby providing donors tax deductibility for their generous donations.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">Muslim Aid Asia is headquartered in KL where our office is located. The agency has directorate offices in London, Munich and Sydney and field offices in Bangladesh, Cambodia, Gambia, Indonesia, Iraq, Jordan, Lebanon, Pakistan, Sri Lanka and Sudan. </span><span style="font-size: large;">The organisation also partners with many independent in-country NGOs. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><a href="http://muslimaidasia.com/component/option,com_frontpage/Itemid,1/">http://muslimaidasia.com/component/option,com_frontpage/Itemid,1/</a> </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmHTK0M8YMNMVp9DfZgnacpmRk_sd74BDHPvnajqqlE2S7woJsKGpoNbRBBvq8-0TxoDwwdFRTHdEBV5NXhXmT8daN2mRL-Qo9GJojr101e4yE5WdwWNWg5555OET_sbcoopQcVzSqevbY/s1600/ma-somali+draught+appeal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="242px" qda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmHTK0M8YMNMVp9DfZgnacpmRk_sd74BDHPvnajqqlE2S7woJsKGpoNbRBBvq8-0TxoDwwdFRTHdEBV5NXhXmT8daN2mRL-Qo9GJojr101e4yE5WdwWNWg5555OET_sbcoopQcVzSqevbY/s320/ma-somali+draught+appeal.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Starving children, victims of Somalian draught, 2011.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhriuSDjn6iNx4HguUpBcDT1Fh7LsFTxxAwh6VjsUztLDUSqsJav5Xh-f7b1b1pneLZzWDAQj5cvrdUV-Rlyqgk7RbuMwwdsQRhHp8KImlIsC0C8Iwu7A_MpmO7ZsMzyVWB5cDWTw1zz2OL/s1600/ma-somali+draught+appeal1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240px" qda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhriuSDjn6iNx4HguUpBcDT1Fh7LsFTxxAwh6VjsUztLDUSqsJav5Xh-f7b1b1pneLZzWDAQj5cvrdUV-Rlyqgk7RbuMwwdsQRhHp8KImlIsC0C8Iwu7A_MpmO7ZsMzyVWB5cDWTw1zz2OL/s320/ma-somali+draught+appeal1.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Food aid for victims of Somalian draught, 2011</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOh2nGgwYCdAOXgpRlb-oUwRFTEKrmc9fWPDEghAW_x74r9BGgfl6AVbK74obm0NC5HEjRqCk5awuPOBD0PkTAWt7ad5CLSmeKDY49_okflhFV5Rag31nXI6jHrsl5zOa4X99JB1Ef4LBu/s1600/ma-ramadan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180px" qda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOh2nGgwYCdAOXgpRlb-oUwRFTEKrmc9fWPDEghAW_x74r9BGgfl6AVbK74obm0NC5HEjRqCk5awuPOBD0PkTAWt7ad5CLSmeKDY49_okflhFV5Rag31nXI6jHrsl5zOa4X99JB1Ef4LBu/s320/ma-ramadan.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Ramadhan Food Packs for Iraqi poor.</div>Kama At-Tarawishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11203707782759183847noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2548373318997308915.post-64895357111112457402012-04-01T07:35:00.001+08:002012-04-01T07:37:13.461+08:00Consider This....<span style="font-size: large;"><strong>Ten Thoughts To Ponder ....</strong></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><strong>Number 10</strong></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Life is sexually transmitted.</span><br />
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</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><strong>Number 9</strong></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Good health is merely the slowest possible rate at which one can die.</span><br />
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</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><strong>Number 8</strong></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Men have two emotions: Hungry and Horny. If you see him without an erection, make him a sandwich.</span><br />
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</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><strong>Number 7</strong></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Give a person a fish and you feed them for a day. Teach a person to use the Internet and they won't bother you for weeks, months, maybe years.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><strong>Number 6</strong></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Health nuts are going to feel stupid someday, lying in the hospitals, dying of nothing.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><strong>Number 5</strong></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">All of us could take a lesson from the weather. It pays no attention to criticism.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><strong>Number 4</strong></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Why does a slight tax increase cost you $800.00, and a substantial tax cut saves you $30.00?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><strong>Number 3</strong></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">In the 60's, people took acid to make the world weird. Now the world is weird and people take Prozac to make it normal.</span><br />
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</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><strong>Number 2</strong></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Life is like a jar of Jalapeno peppers--what you do today, might burn your ass tomorrow.</span><br />
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</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><strong>Number 1</strong></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">"Don't worry about old age - it doesn't last that long."</span>Kama At-Tarawishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11203707782759183847noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2548373318997308915.post-50303038687970575782012-03-20T09:19:00.000+08:002012-03-20T09:19:13.850+08:00I Love This Woman!<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"><strong>Finally, someone who gets her priorities right!</strong></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div></span><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">An elderly lady was standing at the railing of a cruise ship </span><span style="font-size: large;">holding her hat tight so that it would not blow away in the wind. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">A gentleman approached her and said, </span><span style="font-size: large;">"Pardon me madam, </span><span style="font-size: large;">I do not intend to be forward but did you know that your dress </span><span style="font-size: large;">is blowing up in this high wind?" </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">She: "Yes I know, b</span><span style="font-size: large;">ut I need both my hands </span><span style="font-size: large;">to hold onto this hat." </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">He: "But madam, you must know that you are not wearing any panties </span><span style="font-size: large;">and that your privates are exposed!" </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">The woman looked down, then back up at the man </span><span style="font-size: large;">and replied, "Sir, anything you see down there is 75 years old. But </span><span style="font-size: large;">I just bought this hat yesterday!" </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div>Kama At-Tarawishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11203707782759183847noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2548373318997308915.post-65914817558109275882012-03-20T00:59:00.008+08:002012-03-20T08:35:52.226+08:00When the Bird Flew<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">There's so much truth in what they say: it takes all kinds to make the world...</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjKLzf4-lceHF9CbqnrSPSUqdToHPyMt2A6hdtd_vm4-GpXQxs_DDCCoJX9yadhlKpobOeslK5odXVepIVQfupW1AeGVWBA9qRWif7tg4vfPsLKNO9HmfmfvIMCVgjfdNDnB-WQywFa3Ik/s1600/Michael-OBrien-Streaking.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img aea="true" border="0" height="238px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjKLzf4-lceHF9CbqnrSPSUqdToHPyMt2A6hdtd_vm4-GpXQxs_DDCCoJX9yadhlKpobOeslK5odXVepIVQfupW1AeGVWBA9qRWif7tg4vfPsLKNO9HmfmfvIMCVgjfdNDnB-WQywFa3Ik/s320/Michael-OBrien-Streaking.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><em><span style="font-size: large;">London cop Bruce Perry covering streaker O'Brien's private parts which, admittedly, is no longer private. </span><span style="font-size: large;">Phew! That's a very <strong>suey</strong> helmet is ever there is one; after 'that' head, hope he didn't put it back on his head..</span></em></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">Ever wonder how streaking came to be? Streaking - the act of running nude through a public place (usually at a sports event) - was quite rampant during the '60s and '</span><span style="font-size: large;">70s.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">People usually streak on a dare. The earliest recorded incident in England was on the 5th of July, 1799 when a naked man was arrested whilst streaking at the Mansion House, London. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">He confirmed that he had accepted a wager of 10 guineas (equalling 735 pound sterling today), to run naked from Cornhill to Cheapside. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">In the United States, the first recorded incident of streaking was by college senior George William Crump in 1804 at Washington College (now called Washington and Lee University). </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">Crump, who eventually rose to become a US Congressman, was arrested for running nude through Lexington, Virginia, where the university was (and still is) located.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">I was floating about in cyberspace when I chanced upon the story of Michael O'B</span><span style="font-size: large;">rien, a 25 year-old Australian who was the first known streaker at a major sporting event.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">On the 20th of April 1974 he dashed out naked, manhood flying, onto a rugby pitch during halftime before a crowd of 48,000 people, HRH Princess Alexandra of Britain amongst them.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">It was a Rugby Union match between England and France held in the London suburb of T</span><span style="font-size: large;">wickenham, and O'Brien apparently </span><span style="font-size: large;">did it for a 10 pound bet.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">He was captured by police constable Bruce Perry who covered the streaker's genitals with a police helmet. This famous (infamous?) helmet is now on display in the museum at Twinckenham.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">O'Brien may have captured the imagination of millions around the world but his luck didn't hold. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">He was fined 10 pounds, the exact amount he won in the bet, and was fired the very next day by his not-so-amused employers.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">O'Brien later went on to become a successful businessman in Australia, shunning the media over the years in an effort to keep the lid on his youthful indiscretion. </span> </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> <span style="font-size: large;">In 2006, however, he eventually spoke on an Australian TV show called <em>“Where Are They Now?”</em> </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">He said he </span><span style="font-size: large;">regretted his stunt, saying it was a stupid thing to do and that he wasn't proud of it. </span><span style="font-size: large;">Also on the show was ex-bobbie Bruce Perry whose helmet covered O'Brien's manhood. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">“I feared he would be mobbed, or that other people would follow suit. </span><span style="font-size: large;">I felt embarrassed so I covered him up as best I could,” said Perry. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">“It was a cold day – he had nothing to be proud of,” Perry added. [Oh, bummer!]</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"> <span style="font-size: large;">The picture above, taken by Ian Bradshaw, won numerous awards including the World Press <em>Photo of the Year</em>. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">It was also chosen as <em>Picture of the Year</em> by <strong>Life</strong> magazine and <em>Picture of the Decade</em> by<strong> People</strong> magazine.</span></div>Kama At-Tarawishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11203707782759183847noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2548373318997308915.post-67854435901359918232012-03-19T10:58:00.002+08:002012-03-19T11:55:10.548+08:00Some really awful jokes & puns to lift your Monday blues..<span style="font-size: large;">- I asked for a Swedish Massage, but ended up with a Happy Finnish.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">- One of my teachers at school was cross-eyed; he never could control his pupils.</span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">- Did you hear about the guy that went to a zoo that had no animals except a dog? It was a Shih Tzu. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">- Where do cows buy their clothes? A Cattle Logue. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">- I've written a song about a tortilla. Well, it's more of a wrap. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">- Square: 'Why do you only have one round edge?' Circle: 'That's how I roll.' </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">- My wife left me yesterday because she says I am obsessed with metamorphosis.''But please Babe,'' I pleaded. ''I can change.'' </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">- Got chatting to a very philosophical, obese monk earlier. He was a deep fat friar! </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">- Playing football today, the opposing goalkeeper said he'd kill me if I scored a goal. I wouldn't put it past him. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">- I was offered a job as a noise pollution inspector. I had to turn it down! </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">- Some scientists at my local university have developed an invisible safety pin. To be honest I can't see the point. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">- My bedside light turned into a butterfly this morning, That's the last time I buy a Larva Lamp. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">- My wife got really pissed off today because I kept dropping random women's names into every sentence. I said, "Sue me." </span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">- Went to a fancy dress party last night as a loaf of bread! The birds were all over me.. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">- My friend cloned himself last year He's been beside himself ever since. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">- About to pay a deposit on a well-earned holiday in the Romanian capital. I'm going to Bucharest! </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">- England doesn't have a kidney bank, but it does have a Liverpool. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">- We'll never run out of math teachers, they are always multiplying. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">- While in Mexico, the Chinese diplomat got a ticket for going the Wong way down a Juan way street. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">- The lumberjack was so good with the chainsaw, he got promoted to branch manager. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">- Why was World War One over so quickly? They were Russian.. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">- And why did World War Two take so long? They were Stalin! </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">- I saw a guy pickpocket a midget; how can someone stoop so low! </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">- What happened to the frog's car which was parked illegally? It got toad.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">They just discovered who made King Arthur's round table. Apparently, it was Sir Cumference.</span>Kama At-Tarawishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11203707782759183847noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2548373318997308915.post-15779360835292856352012-03-17T02:05:00.009+08:002012-03-17T07:18:08.438+08:00What's Your Problem Again?<span style="font-size: large;">Whatever issues I may have in my life seem incredibly lame after looking at all these iconic photographs (a few of which have won the Pulitzer).</span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig2wn_SRGEtUEulP8EdyA7XHucMOhMdF20HOPVWOlbUuYKCDH7Xoce2PApBnYvnTMf5qrQOfm9YoiWwXcXbUkqmC7rdQX9lGf9bXPnshartL5_UA_XjpWbKcUHrsV66w4z3VWuTsqg_H-3/s1600/meaningful1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img aea="true" border="0" height="235px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig2wn_SRGEtUEulP8EdyA7XHucMOhMdF20HOPVWOlbUuYKCDH7Xoce2PApBnYvnTMf5qrQOfm9YoiWwXcXbUkqmC7rdQX9lGf9bXPnshartL5_UA_XjpWbKcUHrsV66w4z3VWuTsqg_H-3/s320/meaningful1.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">1957: Dorothy Counts, the first black girl to attend an all-white school, being mercilessly taunted and jeered by her white male peers.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"> <a href="http://www.charlottemagazine.com/Charlotte-Magazine/August-2010/Where-are-They-Now/Dorothy-Counts/">http://www.charlottemagazine.com/Charlotte-Magazine/August-2010/Where-are-They-Now/Dorothy-Counts/</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPliuKk3I0o9E2iUMN3YqYAXQy5JMRGwJ3WdMraGSHJPGEMVBtRu3t6islnjqodYPZZRwNehxWla1siij_WH9Xq1OIgGIRgj6eXZXJ4O-8H1hSNCFRw4V5xB0yMZ5SSU75vXAMlVigyELZ/s1600/meaningful2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img aea="true" border="0" height="265px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPliuKk3I0o9E2iUMN3YqYAXQy5JMRGwJ3WdMraGSHJPGEMVBtRu3t6islnjqodYPZZRwNehxWla1siij_WH9Xq1OIgGIRgj6eXZXJ4O-8H1hSNCFRw4V5xB0yMZ5SSU75vXAMlVigyELZ/s320/meaningful2.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">Tokyo, January 12, 1960: This picture was snapped just seconds before Japanese Socialist Party leader Inojiro Asanuma was murdered by a right-wing 17 year-old student.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="http://www.liveleak.com/view?i=1e1_1284429060&comments=1">http://www.liveleak.com/view?i=1e1_1284429060&comments=1</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2xNMv0NYL8f-E7hHSJn3VbSrfSnib9R_lDJX1fRcDoavEC0rT0Rlii6vexsePqriAKfKnOC0xlpLOzEUTaE5njt9IB9z845_-wdinZ45yL9IZWLfrZNF00ku1p4DcczkYsDOE90rNXe_s/s1600/meaningful-priest.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img aea="true" border="0" height="257px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2xNMv0NYL8f-E7hHSJn3VbSrfSnib9R_lDJX1fRcDoavEC0rT0Rlii6vexsePqriAKfKnOC0xlpLOzEUTaE5njt9IB9z845_-wdinZ45yL9IZWLfrZNF00ku1p4DcczkYsDOE90rNXe_s/s320/meaningful-priest.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">Saigon, South Vietnam, 1963: The self-immolation of Buddhist priest Thich Quang Duc, in protest of the government's torture policy against priests. Incredibly, Thich never made a sound while he was burning.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"> <a href="http://mostodd.wordpress.com/2011/02/20/the-burning-monk/">http://mostodd.wordpress.com/2011/02/20/the-burning-monk/</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEaIxjD06Zk-wTDrSgzrwsjHd12iIQSqy40pGJiUFnliYvHashpSKutLV2uAECqM7HW-F0KGuo9NjwiFG4k1AyNyX0PI61OirXzMtfCXgTFQ4qQMh5vY0AeIgWUoNnPLEjwWMz9TdOg7TM/s1600/meaningful4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img aea="true" border="0" height="216px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEaIxjD06Zk-wTDrSgzrwsjHd12iIQSqy40pGJiUFnliYvHashpSKutLV2uAECqM7HW-F0KGuo9NjwiFG4k1AyNyX0PI61OirXzMtfCXgTFQ4qQMh5vY0AeIgWUoNnPLEjwWMz9TdOg7TM/s320/meaningful4.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">Loc Thuong, Binh Dinh, South Vietnam, September 1965. Mother and children wade across river to escape US bombing.</span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzkbfEwYaGkiFJ0GIZR-7fHNrbzm6zP6b8rse7KU_9nHjBrcwFAg-FdxnPMhkUgBPt9bbwWRyjRwNHUC3viIOut13e8UNNHjxctNagr4Yw1x6wyoT-4Qo7q-rcayXuBUyoHqQvGkVlTjfP/s1600/meaningful5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img aea="true" border="0" height="320px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzkbfEwYaGkiFJ0GIZR-7fHNrbzm6zP6b8rse7KU_9nHjBrcwFAg-FdxnPMhkUgBPt9bbwWRyjRwNHUC3viIOut13e8UNNHjxctNagr4Yw1x6wyoT-4Qo7q-rcayXuBUyoHqQvGkVlTjfP/s320/meaningful5.jpg" width="213px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">South Vietnam 1966: US troops dragging a dead Vietcong soldier.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: justify;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYoQg-FJWz3vkTHEut-1OYGv54AJmMdR75ysQoMKSEhuFt1YN4FsqT7Kjo6S4z0E2heADjP-Sfc4mXIj6D1vn4uS0JMykZGxvmBUA8XiVvXdOWdvyBOZ_u_xprTPcAUzDSqcFEWjcV1WgP/s1600/meaningful6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img aea="true" border="0" height="225px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYoQg-FJWz3vkTHEut-1OYGv54AJmMdR75ysQoMKSEhuFt1YN4FsqT7Kjo6S4z0E2heADjP-Sfc4mXIj6D1vn4uS0JMykZGxvmBUA8XiVvXdOWdvyBOZ_u_xprTPcAUzDSqcFEWjcV1WgP/s320/meaningful6.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">Saigon, South Vietnam, February 1, 1968, South Vietnam police chief Nguyen Ngoc Loan shoots a young man suspected to be a Vietcong soldier.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="http://watchingshadowsonthewall.wordpress.com/category/iconic-images/">http://watchingshadowsonthewall.wordpress.com/category/iconic-images/</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP-pNgW5O2rvYpG0NOg9Zbhws_eAUEY-mAYKKub0ozMWCiAS2uHx_EjY9IQnFTOP7DDuIRpSaHi9YY4Lm8MU2ffJTQLtNgjb7ZFA3JjhM8qdagMOvjZ7LMrFbioY1N5noI7VEqgwVDQOER/s1600/meaningful9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img aea="true" border="0" height="216px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP-pNgW5O2rvYpG0NOg9Zbhws_eAUEY-mAYKKub0ozMWCiAS2uHx_EjY9IQnFTOP7DDuIRpSaHi9YY4Lm8MU2ffJTQLtNgjb7ZFA3JjhM8qdagMOvjZ7LMrFbioY1N5noI7VEqgwVDQOER/s320/meaningful9.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">Uganda, 1980: A missionary holding the emaciated hand of a starving boy in Uganda. The boy died soon after.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="http://lalitkumar.in/blog/uganda-famine-famous-photograph/">http://lalitkumar.in/blog/uganda-famine-famous-photograph/</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUnx7KftH91TXycgb2nFrMrysHtdm9EeVxiBbVKY4VfZzOc1jq9bbUKQZIk8NGEE1FuC8BLmN03_IchKSR-iLk0VdDQwxpJ6a02V7rn_CtdU43z13deazY34hLHxoM07htTOXJ_8fb9sUa/s1600/meaningful11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img aea="true" border="0" height="214px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUnx7KftH91TXycgb2nFrMrysHtdm9EeVxiBbVKY4VfZzOc1jq9bbUKQZIk8NGEE1FuC8BLmN03_IchKSR-iLk0VdDQwxpJ6a02V7rn_CtdU43z13deazY34hLHxoM07htTOXJ_8fb9sUa/s320/meaningful11.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">Beirut, 1982: Massacre of Palestinian refugees in camps Sabra and Shatila.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="http://globalvoicesonline.org/2011/09/17/lebanon-sabra-and-chatila-massacre-remembered-29-years-on/">http://globalvoicesonline.org/2011/09/17/lebanon-sabra-and-chatila-massacre-remembered-29-years-on/</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="http://www.informationclearinghouse.info/article4733.htm">http://www.informationclearinghouse.info/article4733.htm</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZnE1AIcbHF5s5SoFHkJi3UicTZ9bvVwzixdK08toBuB0oZpeeYVGb4HiOg2TNxqAO3h8_w1f86E78g230QwNPsvG1jN_wUMepkVSqpZ8aqmgybuTfDpnVW3CnF_Wouy2u6p7ERn_u3HFd/s1600/meaningful12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img aea="true" border="0" height="207px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZnE1AIcbHF5s5SoFHkJi3UicTZ9bvVwzixdK08toBuB0oZpeeYVGb4HiOg2TNxqAO3h8_w1f86E78g230QwNPsvG1jN_wUMepkVSqpZ8aqmgybuTfDpnVW3CnF_Wouy2u6p7ERn_u3HFd/s320/meaningful12.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">Beijing, 4 June 1989. A demonstrator confronts a line of People’s Liberation Army tanks during Tianannmen Square demonstrations for democratic reform.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,988169,00.html">http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,988169,00.html</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="http://lens.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/06/03/behind-the-scenes-tank-man-of-tiananmen/">http://lens.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/06/03/behind-the-scenes-tank-man-of-tiananmen/</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP4y7-IroX7ZQ1lsmOlVpWurzjHP2ZJH6SCANtS4wg4Dk1wFEz3nYjsfO-8AlJ6SdZKeMVAMnvNr4zuTqm2OkYhrBvDbo0G_zMLF6kRCqMo_sdObTfos_qR35nQ-HBZWjgffDfyacjhPwa/s1600/meaningful13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img aea="true" border="0" height="211px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP4y7-IroX7ZQ1lsmOlVpWurzjHP2ZJH6SCANtS4wg4Dk1wFEz3nYjsfO-8AlJ6SdZKeMVAMnvNr4zuTqm2OkYhrBvDbo0G_zMLF6kRCqMo_sdObTfos_qR35nQ-HBZWjgffDfyacjhPwa/s320/meaningful13.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">Somalia, 1992: A Somali mother holds the body of her child who had died of hunger.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="http://www.netnomad.com/somtimes.html">http://www.netnomad.com/somtimes.html</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUkPo-9cMxOK43qzs0_Tl9u_Cy7EQF57BeZvRzcVvjfAMHwPZikt5uQIUUsGildAHppzzwyGwqpCX_6AZfIRZf0HavMAx-aUarIzN3_KV0vyX7w38C4URLr1oIiXEt67CQNRuAiDyCtXSg/s1600/meaningful14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img aea="true" border="0" height="217px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUkPo-9cMxOK43qzs0_Tl9u_Cy7EQF57BeZvRzcVvjfAMHwPZikt5uQIUUsGildAHppzzwyGwqpCX_6AZfIRZf0HavMAx-aUarIzN3_KV0vyX7w38C4URLr1oIiXEt67CQNRuAiDyCtXSg/s320/meaningful14.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">Rwanda, 1994: A Hutu man mutilated by the Hutu ‘Interahamwe’ militia, who suspected him of sympathizing with the Tutsi rebels.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #c20000;"> <a href="http://filipspagnoli.wordpress.com/2009/05/18/iconic-images-of-human-rights-violations-7-genocide-in-rwanda/">http://filipspagnoli.wordpress.com/2009/05/18/iconic-images-of-human-rights-violations-7-genocide-in-rwanda/</a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #c20000;"></span></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXzamRXFJvaOc-NM3mmlKCDfS7QpIsLPEUahR9mXcGFQuKH3n3Oo5kMrVTxNWv0dS7Y1-3YO0psdITSMFc0Msp_kAc1Km3kbL-CWr1CCULzhFV4rjyd6oQGtH5hOWc320DrRwG3CslwTvR/s1600/meaningful16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img aea="true" border="0" height="214px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXzamRXFJvaOc-NM3mmlKCDfS7QpIsLPEUahR9mXcGFQuKH3n3Oo5kMrVTxNWv0dS7Y1-3YO0psdITSMFc0Msp_kAc1Km3kbL-CWr1CCULzhFV4rjyd6oQGtH5hOWc320DrRwG3CslwTvR/s320/meaningful16.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">Iran, 2002: Soldiers and villagers digging graves for the victims of an earthquake in northern Iran. A tearful child clings to his dead father’s pants before burial. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="http://articles.cnn.com/2002-06-22/world/quake.iran_1_qazvin-islamic-republic-eurasian-plate?_s=PM:WORLD">http://articles.cnn.com/2002-06-22/world/quake.iran_1_qazvin-islamic-republic-eurasian-plate?_s=PM:WORLD</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div>Kama At-Tarawishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11203707782759183847noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2548373318997308915.post-6837582734336604052012-03-15T09:23:00.589+08:002012-03-16T15:00:54.017+08:00Rene & Atief - The Wedding<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">Don't we all love weddings! We get to meet relatives and friends near and far, offering a chance to mend fences for some and renew old ties for others. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Some get to parade new togs and heels. Others less restrained take the opportunity to show off their bling-blings that could put a dimmer on the stars in the Milky Way. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Then there's food, glorious food. I'm sure you love wedding feasts as much as I do. I guess it's not so much what is served, but the whole <em>kenduri </em>atmosphere the occasion affords.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">There were </span><span style="font-size: large;"><em>makan </em>aplenty at the wedding of my niece, Masyarene Mohd Som (daughter of my sister Zahana), to her beau, Syed Atief Syed Amran, in Shah Alam Saturday last.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">("Three down, three to go, plus one," I whispered in half-jest, and the mother of six daughters and one son smiled ruefully!)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">With<em> aqad</em> (solemnisation) and <em>bersanding</em> (sitting on the dais) done on the same day - one in the morning, the other in the evening - our meals were <em>kowtim</em>med for the whole day. And that had not even taken the <em>tapau</em> part into account. See why I love weddings in the family?</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><strong><u>THE AQAD</u></strong></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTymSTkWSwzrFP1AMC-MYIpLM2YKxtJZwMUIqePaLamfh8lufwr6-UfnfRHUBc7c0SDiUfBPfYf3Y6GqQFxMGdoPFxkEpmQnoumK2TXaEAEJCNnHmSHVCmMjbjT8MhA-aIJh5qpLQjiAwX/s1600/nikah-tunggu+akad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img aea="true" border="0" height="320px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTymSTkWSwzrFP1AMC-MYIpLM2YKxtJZwMUIqePaLamfh8lufwr6-UfnfRHUBc7c0SDiUfBPfYf3Y6GqQFxMGdoPFxkEpmQnoumK2TXaEAEJCNnHmSHVCmMjbjT8MhA-aIJh5qpLQjiAwX/s320/nikah-tunggu+akad.jpg" width="240px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">Rene, radiant in white, patiently waiting to be led downstairs for the solemnisation ceremony. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCuIIUK17GS4NhWsRqJaruj-sm243t6wSawUzn4kxpoZGsrwmxPXQdDW5j74chFaSbLmGQbEwrAu7KN124TA605YVKoANHJ5zOd5CZUoT1X21pOEPw8yUBoe9dlsqG9UvFCdkzVrUpjTNv/s1600/nikah-akad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img aea="true" border="0" height="240px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCuIIUK17GS4NhWsRqJaruj-sm243t6wSawUzn4kxpoZGsrwmxPXQdDW5j74chFaSbLmGQbEwrAu7KN124TA605YVKoANHJ5zOd5CZUoT1X21pOEPw8yUBoe9dlsqG9UvFCdkzVrUpjTNv/s320/nikah-akad.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"> <span style="font-size: large;"><em>Aqad</em> was undertaken by the bride's father himself, a taciturn former Air Force pilot now flying with a private carrier, whose serious demeanour had caused the nervous groom to slightly flub his <em>nikah </em>acceptance. Can't help it, Atief; he's got 6 daughters on his mind!</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNAd-xvOIuz045vFXWggm8z0n0IvsXaqWLOlAEN3ttCE_nn7ccb7uDakgDpwdFBKkPShSjhx-U2YjuPiRiWUSy5xWjechQsFOBzEuw3F4OdYLunzu53ThaxeJUB0iRPr3LOD1ZNI81h5PX/s1600/nikah-mak+pengantin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img aea="true" border="0" height="240px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNAd-xvOIuz045vFXWggm8z0n0IvsXaqWLOlAEN3ttCE_nn7ccb7uDakgDpwdFBKkPShSjhx-U2YjuPiRiWUSy5xWjechQsFOBzEuw3F4OdYLunzu53ThaxeJUB0iRPr3LOD1ZNI81h5PX/s320/nikah-mak+pengantin.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">Mother of the bride sitting pretty beside her third daughter, soon to be someone's wife. Psst, did I spy some tears behind the smile? (I know I did :-D) </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-lCOYct_wfNa1yDhLS2E8Il0Cy8iJ1exieexKmv_T-X71-YSPpA_VTT937Nz7-Py0R9l2AG4br5wbqCM1XqDUp5i1-skeFNfDfRxb1rwMiQYWkgorfNHs0WUTfZsfCKR3tdsDxm8GMJRy/s1600/nikah-sarung+cincin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img aea="true" border="0" height="240px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-lCOYct_wfNa1yDhLS2E8Il0Cy8iJ1exieexKmv_T-X71-YSPpA_VTT937Nz7-Py0R9l2AG4br5wbqCM1XqDUp5i1-skeFNfDfRxb1rwMiQYWkgorfNHs0WUTfZsfCKR3tdsDxm8GMJRy/s320/nikah-sarung+cincin.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"><em>Sarung cincin..</em> 'With this ring, I thee wed.."</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv6F0fHUhs2BrDi89KNUW4mc63PE97_3xkSL7vHd8HSZmwn_IFIPbynA1RVbC-AHRUfzMMMrn5ecd5zNLWT5JGlBFQnIK0SIc-RF0ihRv_BBSyQS0p15o1Cb4ZXetnG_FqXa_Vp_TFmC2G/s1600/nikah-lepas+akad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img aea="true" border="0" height="240px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv6F0fHUhs2BrDi89KNUW4mc63PE97_3xkSL7vHd8HSZmwn_IFIPbynA1RVbC-AHRUfzMMMrn5ecd5zNLWT5JGlBFQnIK0SIc-RF0ihRv_BBSyQS0p15o1Cb4ZXetnG_FqXa_Vp_TFmC2G/s320/nikah-lepas+akad.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">Rene and Atief posing for their first picture together as husband and wife. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7TsNqx4ceODTKgBP5owAy5OVt1mhiCHOHj8vC-TradUYUuI1wD9rRB-i7NxinUW30wIv-rXbhwPx1nVEs90-sOEw777ltwjH9RH4_ghk4ezQQcxiIVr2dJUzPaF2G2rKqzq4fiww1eIPx/s1600/nikah-ladies+in+a+row.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img aea="true" border="0" height="178px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7TsNqx4ceODTKgBP5owAy5OVt1mhiCHOHj8vC-TradUYUuI1wD9rRB-i7NxinUW30wIv-rXbhwPx1nVEs90-sOEw777ltwjH9RH4_ghk4ezQQcxiIVr2dJUzPaF2G2rKqzq4fiww1eIPx/s320/nikah-ladies+in+a+row.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">Yours truly with all her sisters but one and sisters-in-law. From left: first sister and mother of the bride Zahana, fourth sister Zanariah, sister-in-law Wan Hanisah (all the way from Kota Bharu), third sister Zaridah (the glamour puss of the family), sister-in-law Sara (from Ipoh), second sister Hanizah and yours truly, the Big Sister (in both rank and size). The missing one is my <em>adik bongsu</em> Norliza, currently working and residing in the US.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"></span></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUiL4JLeLg6cGojCsomSy7AV8KzeZMS22FmFDn5knSpaq1OK_x4XCgWlpJduyEZGm0gi9PICjg8UXY9s6bh7e3uaZZb72yqNqv2Da6YH96Bx0JxGyrCFZD9iKSfY1pO3zEPSMwJSy6nqQz/s1600/nikah-dais.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img aea="true" border="0" height="240px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUiL4JLeLg6cGojCsomSy7AV8KzeZMS22FmFDn5knSpaq1OK_x4XCgWlpJduyEZGm0gi9PICjg8UXY9s6bh7e3uaZZb72yqNqv2Da6YH96Bx0JxGyrCFZD9iKSfY1pO3zEPSMwJSy6nqQz/s320/nikah-dais.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">A simple <em>pelamin</em> for the<em> aqad</em> ceremony.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXPzgeDN_T48oO4rnJWtMgfIG3YiWhLRG0YJdRB7FZYr_sQwwnB9QbPVtPkNFc3PyW9sfhKQKI2l3AdtqgJaoPaqWe4SRo6ylkhQMCk76FE7x5pIPHzn9KSNrd8T-hJ1Co0RCU8XCLoaeP/s1600/nikah-cucu.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img aea="true" border="0" height="240px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXPzgeDN_T48oO4rnJWtMgfIG3YiWhLRG0YJdRB7FZYr_sQwwnB9QbPVtPkNFc3PyW9sfhKQKI2l3AdtqgJaoPaqWe4SRo6ylkhQMCk76FE7x5pIPHzn9KSNrd8T-hJ1Co0RCU8XCLoaeP/s320/nikah-cucu.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">Before long, these adorable <em>cucus</em> of my sister Zaridah clambered up to stake a claim on the wrought iron <em>kerusi.</em></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwoFOsixJPTNOAt2rnuh7Y4ffpe_N8vecT9-D6_F49ZCHSJ3uMkva-tY8Xrilx1kV_WdoMfuTY5VPQKoWs9-irHSgTAHS8lsOuJ5IuJj9stDOCIbuGkEMAab1L1GAowq9O4gs2GjCheFa7/s1600/nikah-kakak+pengantin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img aea="true" border="0" height="274px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwoFOsixJPTNOAt2rnuh7Y4ffpe_N8vecT9-D6_F49ZCHSJ3uMkva-tY8Xrilx1kV_WdoMfuTY5VPQKoWs9-irHSgTAHS8lsOuJ5IuJj9stDOCIbuGkEMAab1L1GAowq9O4gs2GjCheFa7/s320/nikah-kakak+pengantin.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">The bride's two elder sisters, Masyareta and Masyarena, both happily married with a child each. Rena's the first medical doctor among her siblings and runs a private clinic in Nilai. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuyRfYhfRwOKj5PC1snt0FuYexl0uq5URioWUayGF0rlJRakUVNEy-0DuiN4X_6PqT5kLYMAdIZub50DsTBF-xw6ddeBZdnNxteQ2fhCP753XpBsJ1Zw1Mk04FTvh7x3NZmQCf7wwgewcZ/s1600/nikah-kek+hantaran.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img aea="true" border="0" height="306px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuyRfYhfRwOKj5PC1snt0FuYexl0uq5URioWUayGF0rlJRakUVNEy-0DuiN4X_6PqT5kLYMAdIZub50DsTBF-xw6ddeBZdnNxteQ2fhCP753XpBsJ1Zw1Mk04FTvh7x3NZmQCf7wwgewcZ/s320/nikah-kek+hantaran.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">This heart-shaped cake is one of the<em> hantaran</em> items from bride to groom. I especially like the lavender/blue theme colour.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9RFRR8Rp9fgK0xSMnyp9l7l7tRcdsCFcW2eY-1kuFu_yjEnsb6_wWue0KrKQkHjUw3yTPGH5wjXe7aYrgGDvvAIN_P6ugw8IUVFI2hjy2wmAvbsLUlRj5euil-3dIneAo4341EVIZ2Uty/s1600/nikah-chop+with+asma.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img aea="true" border="0" height="240px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9RFRR8Rp9fgK0xSMnyp9l7l7tRcdsCFcW2eY-1kuFu_yjEnsb6_wWue0KrKQkHjUw3yTPGH5wjXe7aYrgGDvvAIN_P6ugw8IUVFI2hjy2wmAvbsLUlRj5euil-3dIneAo4341EVIZ2Uty/s320/nikah-chop+with+asma.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">My eldest brother Megat Yusof with our niece Asma (daughter of Zanariah), yet another doctor in the making, with a couple more years to go before graduation.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIcrO5FpHde0Q1SJQmFoumJVQGXeuZsdVFYxmwqWEp_R_uzwuJw_FmSThZkHXtzKliCDCIS9jkDM03vdMqmMLAJmq3Gk5O1ZvBCpgewefJzFqzLvdFoZaA1J9SlzkyJEyJlBmr0Q7jioJK/s1600/nikah-anoh.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img aea="true" border="0" height="320px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIcrO5FpHde0Q1SJQmFoumJVQGXeuZsdVFYxmwqWEp_R_uzwuJw_FmSThZkHXtzKliCDCIS9jkDM03vdMqmMLAJmq3Gk5O1ZvBCpgewefJzFqzLvdFoZaA1J9SlzkyJEyJlBmr0Q7jioJK/s320/nikah-anoh.jpg" width="240px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"><strong>Muda, segak, able and available!</strong> Not you, Chop (heaven forbids!) but the young man, our nephew Anoh (Mohd Noh), only son of our sister Hanizah. Any takers? :-D</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">Let it be known that Hanizah has joined my ranks in tearing our hair out for the past few years waiting for our <em>bujang </em>sons to bring home 'potentials' to show us. At this rate, we'll be bald soon, eh Zah?</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbXJcEU0E2Mdh7yLqZFRD-F7qI8r78Yw64TJLg6Au9Hcy2aL21rLgmNdUBav-3m8ICjtOjyqBwFq2JyctAw7pIUQr5oRVsEpATzcj9IjMfOgzDc7cBFJF9dcjRssdfnKHFPiEV4Mn-0GNr/s1600/nikah-pakabu+jamu+selera.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img aea="true" border="0" height="240px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbXJcEU0E2Mdh7yLqZFRD-F7qI8r78Yw64TJLg6Au9Hcy2aL21rLgmNdUBav-3m8ICjtOjyqBwFq2JyctAw7pIUQr5oRVsEpATzcj9IjMfOgzDc7cBFJF9dcjRssdfnKHFPiEV4Mn-0GNr/s320/nikah-pakabu+jamu+selera.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">Pak Abu, with nary a care in the world, <em>menjamu selera</em> with kampung fare (<em>ikan kering, sambal belacan, ulam</em> et al) for lunch.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"><strong><u>THE RECEPTION</u></strong></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">The wedding reception was held later in the evening at Kelab Shah Alam Selangor, not far from the bride's family residence. There were some 600 guests in attendance.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">Nothing fancy really (and it was that way intended), just the usual <em>bersanding, merenjis,</em> <em>makan beradab</em> dan later, cake-cutting. There were no VIPs nor guests-of honour. Everyone was a special guest of the family.</span></div><div align="left" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglnEwtHp2mJPZktWFRn3OKsLMzO6idTYFyig5dBrFuMtsDiX0ZZAN1ggOnhNkNmQpmnSr7vmbh7DazSyJ3wIULHZX_JFoeEesnvzfBO5hcoDCAa1lhuliKoc9fphaSlIoQZNBRkeofaSs4/s1600/rene-sanding.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img aea="true" border="0" height="240px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglnEwtHp2mJPZktWFRn3OKsLMzO6idTYFyig5dBrFuMtsDiX0ZZAN1ggOnhNkNmQpmnSr7vmbh7DazSyJ3wIULHZX_JFoeEesnvzfBO5hcoDCAa1lhuliKoc9fphaSlIoQZNBRkeofaSs4/s320/rene-sanding.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div align="left" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">Selamat Pengantin Baru</span></div><div align="justify" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDKPtjADyiPM-8IUIej7nyRDxdnhE8igN-usWprgM0tn2FFQFojYi6EOphbbr1fVGtrYLPKo_icYHveFV3alEUBVwp92bEaO5zhKxGvH1VK7CooH6Y8BfLS2lyYpXNc6iGWzsvCCVy2HHm/s1600/rene-parents+atief.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img aea="true" border="0" height="240px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDKPtjADyiPM-8IUIej7nyRDxdnhE8igN-usWprgM0tn2FFQFojYi6EOphbbr1fVGtrYLPKo_icYHveFV3alEUBVwp92bEaO5zhKxGvH1VK7CooH6Y8BfLS2lyYpXNc6iGWzsvCCVy2HHm/s320/rene-parents+atief.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">Pak Syed and wife, parents of the groom; they live in Perlis. Looks like we'll be trudging up to the North soon for an <em>utara</em>-style <em>kenduri</em>. Looking forward to the trip.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div><div align="justify" class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVvpl-A195d9aW6eKSZIRwMf7Eec9dncvw_-_r4iA5bXZ6kOlbVkhEDQ297gANsParcFNS_ldK9C0t5SaXyzHJpB1rf45dXJ7S3AYk-5ZGHeSpK81OZyyCkLIPPLzKkHuIf51Qxfj8nisy/s1600/rene-naj+n+joe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img aea="true" border="0" height="240px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVvpl-A195d9aW6eKSZIRwMf7Eec9dncvw_-_r4iA5bXZ6kOlbVkhEDQ297gANsParcFNS_ldK9C0t5SaXyzHJpB1rf45dXJ7S3AYk-5ZGHeSpK81OZyyCkLIPPLzKkHuIf51Qxfj8nisy/s320/rene-naj+n+joe.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">My two <em>orang bujang,</em> Naj and Joe. Any takers? Hehehe..</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-9tCzZYDM7ZEdCXsdXW-gmlLwZ9efBehIzdXsHiCFENawkTY0OtAVYUEAgKbRsiGDkSk2BaCWwC2IWswYHBgKzDe9qCPAunaVN-ANbNasDla2xaYpxJYFW14eVNstlpUD8E6ZV-b3sLyS/s1600/rene-orang+kb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img aea="true" border="0" height="240px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-9tCzZYDM7ZEdCXsdXW-gmlLwZ9efBehIzdXsHiCFENawkTY0OtAVYUEAgKbRsiGDkSk2BaCWwC2IWswYHBgKzDe9qCPAunaVN-ANbNasDla2xaYpxJYFW14eVNstlpUD8E6ZV-b3sLyS/s320/rene-orang+kb.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">This is what we in the family affectionately call "Geng Salor" i.e. the children and in-laws of my brother Megat Fouzi and his wife, Wan Hanisah, who hails from Salor, Kelantan.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7XHn6x5rPxzqcf9f5JcTsi7oR5k0acdTmh3wH_wJUX26vvlohcKOwu_lU5qAjqLmva3rH2-OLUN3JmkM1XByNejoYrYeYxHrysNrtcksAeuQZjhPfdqwd-muQBTtB1UpigpFEgCFjWntV/s1600/rene-cucu+chop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img aea="true" border="0" height="240px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7XHn6x5rPxzqcf9f5JcTsi7oR5k0acdTmh3wH_wJUX26vvlohcKOwu_lU5qAjqLmva3rH2-OLUN3JmkM1XByNejoYrYeYxHrysNrtcksAeuQZjhPfdqwd-muQBTtB1UpigpFEgCFjWntV/s320/rene-cucu+chop.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">These 3 cutiepies are the elder granddaughters of my eldest brother Megat Yusof. From left: Tun Nur Syalisa, Tun Nur Ainaa and Tun Nur Syahirah. <em>Aduhai,</em> potential heartbreakers <em>semua ni..</em></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixzAsOP0nA1NAGdPPo6AgL7fIquUDD8TAlv9AnAeroqNcGCwglTf0q03PcKr2aAm5sxoHPEsKjc3lccsY9N3rYJLS8Zg9fvdyN0j97X81CHyET1AkkEQFTpIY328FSg6C87TvDZDekgENy/s1600/rene-idah+n+radzi.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img aea="true" border="0" height="240px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixzAsOP0nA1NAGdPPo6AgL7fIquUDD8TAlv9AnAeroqNcGCwglTf0q03PcKr2aAm5sxoHPEsKjc3lccsY9N3rYJLS8Zg9fvdyN0j97X81CHyET1AkkEQFTpIY328FSg6C87TvDZDekgENy/s320/rene-idah+n+radzi.jpg" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">My <em>glam memanjang</em> sis Zaridah with her better half, Radzi. <em>Fuuuh, sapa punya jari tuuu?</em></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfbQxDaFC1UjI0ugGvc6Uwj2w9yfCI-2nhbfUAWB5cLeILhiphkZMEioycgN6E9szWbUOK0gLeJIKgmlror4K_QPjl8Pkeq-i1qjxPKHSPwsRyrG2P4sVUcNSVNnHY38zpGQyPd6V7j4gD/s1600/rene-ashcage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img aea="true" border="0" height="320px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfbQxDaFC1UjI0ugGvc6Uwj2w9yfCI-2nhbfUAWB5cLeILhiphkZMEioycgN6E9szWbUOK0gLeJIKgmlror4K_QPjl8Pkeq-i1qjxPKHSPwsRyrG2P4sVUcNSVNnHY38zpGQyPd6V7j4gD/s320/rene-ashcage.jpg" width="240px" /></a></div><div align="justify" style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div align="justify" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"><em>Ahem.. merah sangatlah Mak Ngah..!</em></span></div>Kama At-Tarawishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11203707782759183847noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2548373318997308915.post-74338201746798511962012-03-05T21:32:00.005+08:002012-03-05T23:22:11.327+08:00Generation Y<div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"><strong>The Silent Generation</strong> is made up of people born before 1946.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"><strong>The Baby Boomers</strong> are those born between 1946 and 1959. [I am right smack in this category, having arrived three years before <em>Merdeka</em>]</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"><strong>Generation X</strong> are those who were born between 1960 and 1989. [This span covers my 4 kids, all of whom were born between 1975-1985] </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;"><strong>Generation Y</strong> comprises those born onwards of 1990. </span><span style="font-size: large;">Any idea why those kids are called <em>Generation Y</em>? I know not, but cartoonist Beau Det helps explain it quite eloquently, I think. Here's why:</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV7AT0HgoGu9Rg2Um_ukW4lWPUywYU0-xbNf4sviHY3dzgV2pKxZYHzhTJIki9_ycCi7o1Gmfk85sWR0DzTbucRlv972OebIBzd3OfSJIeJCU-05Mcv3RWFDh_pv8pHrOUMdLX8OpTufY9/s1600/gen+y.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="254px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV7AT0HgoGu9Rg2Um_ukW4lWPUywYU0-xbNf4sviHY3dzgV2pKxZYHzhTJIki9_ycCi7o1Gmfk85sWR0DzTbucRlv972OebIBzd3OfSJIeJCU-05Mcv3RWFDh_pv8pHrOUMdLX8OpTufY9/s320/gen+y.jpg" uda="true" width="320px" /></a></div>Kama At-Tarawishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11203707782759183847noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2548373318997308915.post-21207647017032502102012-03-04T00:23:00.003+08:002012-03-04T08:28:28.687+08:00If Only...<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;">Who, do you think, painted these beautiful pictures?</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsHP9te_DUGetAUniuWWqAMPf6a-PqgiJophAfJI3uoib-e1mAIlysc0YeKfmpEpb7Lk7WSl_31fF5wHO3HFKVZ-9sW6jZvASZPmRp9oH6xLlxtvE-_0Dvp00lqgspEuvnQSx2eKlrqO_8/s1600/hitler1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="197px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsHP9te_DUGetAUniuWWqAMPf6a-PqgiJophAfJI3uoib-e1mAIlysc0YeKfmpEpb7Lk7WSl_31fF5wHO3HFKVZ-9sW6jZvASZPmRp9oH6xLlxtvE-_0Dvp00lqgspEuvnQSx2eKlrqO_8/s320/hitler1.jpg" uda="true" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihSe8O3yZS1eTiHhIbmIqtB7X2mqLLYJ7hxIA8KOW3HVhdrJiY-ruIFsTZNPQXggpWA1Vh4ac5GhXi-wyHEN79PhUCU687h5Y6FxmQm-c4pmN6v7U1Wq2cqsVAsPHOdjtg1PglLTVuqyvS/s1600/hitler2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="201px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihSe8O3yZS1eTiHhIbmIqtB7X2mqLLYJ7hxIA8KOW3HVhdrJiY-ruIFsTZNPQXggpWA1Vh4ac5GhXi-wyHEN79PhUCU687h5Y6FxmQm-c4pmN6v7U1Wq2cqsVAsPHOdjtg1PglLTVuqyvS/s320/hitler2.jpg" uda="true" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirtt4tHXDohmOIqprkEuwn8jO4bv2FIDR3lmtVnzHjb9OqNpfgW4aurExdkA_p0l9c-0Ybb-34qIpBd75DhWNlkUkm-jQpGaM_7qkxpscKWCdibyFmkzAA6xQtWC6uYIT539_7Y7zlKkfx/s1600/hitler3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="260px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirtt4tHXDohmOIqprkEuwn8jO4bv2FIDR3lmtVnzHjb9OqNpfgW4aurExdkA_p0l9c-0Ybb-34qIpBd75DhWNlkUkm-jQpGaM_7qkxpscKWCdibyFmkzAA6xQtWC6uYIT539_7Y7zlKkfx/s320/hitler3.jpg" uda="true" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwJ51XfpL5GQatkGPTfkTzfNrdr75LE2aFAbPvgN4bJHk0za6Ml_oTwMd_A38YweF7CXAot82NcQWYhOkHuaoJCUhPvYw5OL5MWdm-pEpTvGaEW-tqNg2MH4kk3UdvB6L1Gnux61sODZgT/s1600/hitler4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="221px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwJ51XfpL5GQatkGPTfkTzfNrdr75LE2aFAbPvgN4bJHk0za6Ml_oTwMd_A38YweF7CXAot82NcQWYhOkHuaoJCUhPvYw5OL5MWdm-pEpTvGaEW-tqNg2MH4kk3UdvB6L1Gnux61sODZgT/s320/hitler4.jpg" uda="true" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_0jD8GTlL39IIBUQMLS3Wr4welLVYdKZGS0n7i99hXoUBpaPRrCqaGkUBVaYJZ932kGLm5xjEY0Ows0oLNzpZRIF3Aev-J03Bs04AmYqDqdAgVXG8pt-oxQ20os3lWs8RPoRryIT8xcql/s1600/hitler5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="215px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_0jD8GTlL39IIBUQMLS3Wr4welLVYdKZGS0n7i99hXoUBpaPRrCqaGkUBVaYJZ932kGLm5xjEY0Ows0oLNzpZRIF3Aev-J03Bs04AmYqDqdAgVXG8pt-oxQ20os3lWs8RPoRryIT8xcql/s320/hitler5.jpg" uda="true" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI3L5RryVu0SDFsuNQ2M1rpfHoO4efYhUu-xt0fHupfMzWtheLT8C29nBVFG5ZmbmpYLgDMpIToJjLPs9pcp3TqB8f-7_pV42EP1s_NJpNNv0XtsJ1e6sqBVEhkvR86lEBheiUulez8-Wr/s1600/hitler7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="245px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI3L5RryVu0SDFsuNQ2M1rpfHoO4efYhUu-xt0fHupfMzWtheLT8C29nBVFG5ZmbmpYLgDMpIToJjLPs9pcp3TqB8f-7_pV42EP1s_NJpNNv0XtsJ1e6sqBVEhkvR86lEBheiUulez8-Wr/s320/hitler7.jpg" uda="true" width="320px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-0KNi-va0g-0hS4njaxBOUi2Dp2fJF67QUp3JiaXS06JWzYaC_TXZ6TnntJ0bCOfIh5xoTd9oij1s92gFzIZDFP74Sx5C4Hs-fpHKrbrdToGoN2or96GK1HMi4I9iG-Y2-vD28RjYbC3R/s1600/hitler8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-0KNi-va0g-0hS4njaxBOUi2Dp2fJF67QUp3JiaXS06JWzYaC_TXZ6TnntJ0bCOfIh5xoTd9oij1s92gFzIZDFP74Sx5C4Hs-fpHKrbrdToGoN2or96GK1HMi4I9iG-Y2-vD28RjYbC3R/s320/hitler8.jpg" uda="true" width="311px" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBZavBtJyr56fbMwLdRQX0YvTQUOAQavSWAgnLFOoXB8wIsn6Wn6_SXvcin7PKCQUaDJnVnn7u6Rd1i3VBaczf7UN-6zs5G7EUC8SEG2uZ5iF8aNrKJ8jvQeDXEK-zE2ydw5etwuONj0t5/s1600/hitler9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225px" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBZavBtJyr56fbMwLdRQX0YvTQUOAQavSWAgnLFOoXB8wIsn6Wn6_SXvcin7PKCQUaDJnVnn7u6Rd1i3VBaczf7UN-6zs5G7EUC8SEG2uZ5iF8aNrKJ8jvQeDXEK-zE2ydw5etwuONj0t5/s320/hitler9.jpg" uda="true" width="320px" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">He had wanted to attend the Viennese Academy of Fine Arts and become an artist, but his application was rejected. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: large;">Had he been accepted, world history would probably have been different, because the applicant's name was <strong>Adolf Hitler.</strong></span></div>Kama At-Tarawishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11203707782759183847noreply@blogger.com9