Revisiting Willy (Revised)

Nobody in his/her right mind gets hitched with the overt intention of splitting in the foreseeable future, unless if one is in it for a very specific purpose, like cina buta (but that's a story for another day).

And if you are well and truly insane, you have no business marrying. it's not even legit, in the first place. Your place is in a hospital psychiatric ward, or shelter for the mentally ill, and not a matrimonial home.

By the same token, if you have been too exuberant with your willy to the extent of impregnating your lady love (who happens to be someone's daughter), you have to pay the price by making an honest woman out of her.

You may not be too happy being held to ransom like this, but to all and sundry, how you feel doesn't count. You play, you pay. There's no free ride, unless you're riding the village bicycle, in which case I shall keep my mouth shut.

These disjointed thoughts bore on me as I stood amongst combs of newly-arrived Dole bananas in Jusco supermarket this morning, contemplating between pisang tanduk and pisang berangan for the house. Power of association, as always.

Be that as it may, it is safe to say that a great majority of us marry with the hope that the union will last till death do us part. To a select few, however, the script is revised to "till your empty pockets do us part."

It dawned on me how many couples I know have headed towards Splitsville these past ten years since I took a second plunge into marriage after giving 14 years of my life the first time around, only to see it hopelessly unravelled.

The subsequent 14 years were spent as a single mom raising four kids; good, fruitful years that made me realise single-parenthood, painful and heart-rending at times, could also be very rewarding.

Let's just put things in their proper perspectives. Getting married is good and staying married is better. But getting divorced is advisable if staying married doesn't seem like a viable option anymore.

And the earlier you cut your losses the better. Never use your children as an excuse ("we're still together because of the kids"). That's bollocks and you know it. Any which way the kids suffer and you know that too.

It's up to you to prolong their suffering (and yours too alongside), or to remedy the situation. Doing nothing only means you both are just too cowardly to face the truth and the inevitable.

There are many reasons for marital breakup, far too many in fact, with infidelity right there at the top of the totem pole and spousal abuse coming a close second.

[Wish I had held on to that darn newspaper clipping about the statistics; stowed them away for months with the intention of writing a related piece some day, but threw them away recently whilst spring-cleaning my trays, and now regretting it!]

What really prompted me to write this piece is a comment designed to hurt, made by a man who recently traded his wife of three decades for an SYT.

It's the same old crap, really, when a man said his decades-old marriage was a sham, that living with the wife had been hell, that she didn't care for him or love him enough. In other words, the old standby "My wife doesn't understand me."

I realise it's quite common for long-married (but not necessarily faithful) men to utter similar sentiments to their new, much younger love. And the idiot of a woman would swallow it, line hook and sinker, tearfully commiserating with him, not realizing what a great actor he was.

It's the kind of scene to be played again and again in the future, when one relationship ends and another begins. Only the bit player and supporting cast change; the leading man remains the same.

It's fine to be deceitful and play the field for all it is worth. No one can stop you. After all you only have yourself to answer for it when the time comes. You will be held accountable in front of Him, so be it.

All your lying and conniving will then be laid bare for His judgement. Then again, who gives a rat's arse about God and stuff when they are in the deepest throes of lust? (I don't think 'love' justifies it).

I am of the opinion that all things considered, warring or divorced partners (myself included) should never deny there were good moments in their erstwhile marriage. Only a hypocrite would.

Those years couldn't have been all bad. After all, we did produce a string of kids, didn't we? We certainly were on speaking terms when we were humping away, were we not?

So stop lying through your teeth! Give credit where credit is due. Once upon a time we were in love, and then for whatever reason, that love died. It was that simple. Just admit it and move on.

The root of the matter, really, is that men in general find it hard to be faithful. One is never enough. Variety is the name of the game.

They may chortle and say; "Alah, benda tu, sama aja semua" to cover their thoughts and actions, but reality begs to differ; benda tu are not the same. Therein lies the curiosity. It's Pudenda Power, and these men know it.

I have a bit of advice for those ladies who have been cast aside by erring spouses and now hopelessly adrift. Wake up to reality. Let the fleabags go, for they don't love you anymore. If they do, they wouldn't have hurt your feelings.

They wouldn't have laid with other women, even if they had harboured intentions to, or had dreamed it. Thinking about it and doing it are two different things. They would have honoured their marriage vows despite all the temptations.

To him, you are history. So accept it, rise above the occasion and move on. Show him you are in full control of your destiny. Let him know that his departure is a blessing and not a blight.

There are better things out there for the taking. Heck, for all your know, darn better willies too! Remember, you too have the power - Pudenda Power - and it will come in handy one fine day, believe me.

Bunny Year, Bunny Thoughts..

Convention dictates that I, at the age of 56 going 57, not to mention a mother of four and stepmother of three, should already have a son- or daughter-in-law or two in tow.

Convention also dictates that because the first three of the brood are already in their early- to mid-30s, they should have married and procreated like rabbits by now.

Further, convention also dictates that because the remaining four have all hurtled past the quarter century mark (although they have yet to reach 30), they should, at the very least, have potential mates in mind.

Now, Pak Abu's a step away from 60. Mak Labu too is closing in. Whither 'em menantus? Cucus? Anyone listening?

[Just my thoughts running gamut today....]


PS: Or shall I shower and 'simbah' them all with 'air bunga'? With water collected in 'buluh betung' from 7 'hulu sungai'? The mind boggles..


Glossary:
Menantu - son/daughter in law
Cucu - grandchild
Simbah - drench
Air bunga - water laden with fragrant petals
Buluh betung - bamboo
Hulu sungai - upper part of a river

MummyCat & Co II

Awwa's buddy Shaun with one of the kittens while Jason looks on. That's Jo, Shaun's lovely wife, on the left.

Jacque, petite and soft-spoken, cuddling the other kitten..

It has been six days since I last wrote. I don't usually lay off this long between blog posts, but time has not been on my side lately.

Also, the presence of MummyCat and her two kittens took a chunk of my time, especially in keeping peace between the existing feline residents (who else but Awang and Lillie) and the newcomers.

The duo have never taken too kindly to fellow felines and that had given me cause for worry, what with all the uncomfortable feeling all around. The ill-will was quite palpable, if I must say so.

Anyway, I bring good tidings with this posting. Sweet-natured MummyCat and her frisky kittens (one male, one female) have been re-homed, thanks to Awwa's friend Jason Voon and his lovely lady, Jacque.

The young couple, who live in Damansara Kim, PJ, had earlier wanted just a kitten, but had decided to take home all three after meeting MummyCat and brood.

They just didn't have the heart to separate mumsie and kids. Bless their good, loving hearts. It helps that they have ample space for the trio to run around too..

Now that things are a lot more settled, I can continue with my blogging. There are a thousand and one things I want to write about..

PS: Saw pictures of the lucky felines in their new home, put up by Jason on Facebook. Lovely images of them exploring their new surroundings. Alhamdulillah..

Please Adopt Me..

Mummy cat enjoying the morning sun.

Temporarily caged to avoid 'kena luku' by Awang and Lillie.

Chowtime on the sidewalk at Nawwar's office.

Two weeks back, some despicable scrap of humanity had placed a large covered box right smack in the middle of the road fronting my daughter Nawwar's office in Mutiara Damansara.

Inside were a young mummy cat and her litter of four. Thankfully, the road is a side street and not the main thoroughfare, otherwise all five would have been mincemeat before the day was over.

A colleague of Nawwar saw the box, took a peek and quickly moved it to the sidewalk. And that was how Nawwar ended up feeding the poor darlings daily with kibbles bought from a nearby convenience store.

She also prepared a box behind the door of her office entrance so that the kittens would not wander down the stairs to the road.

Before leaving for home each day, she would take the box out and place it in a nook on the sidewalk, together with food and water, bringing it back in when she arrived for work the following day.

Two of the four kittens, the cuter-looking ones, went missing a few days later. We would like to think that they had been taken home by some Good Samaritans because they weren't to be found nearby.

With the Chinese New Year holidays looming last week, we were naturally worried about the safety and well-being of the remaining three. We just didn't have the heart to leave them be.

But taking them home would be tricky too, for, not only we live in a highrise, there are already two cats at home, despite the condo having 'no-pet' bylaws (which everybody broke and the management had thankfully chosen to close one eye).

In the end we decided to take them to Dr Christine of Christie's Ark, our regular vet in Damansara Uptown, to be examined, dewormed, cleaned and boarded until the holiday break was over.

Just as well, because mummy cat had a pretty bad gash on a front paw. The cut required a few stitches and she had to be anaesthetised for it. The swelling, thankfully, has subsided.

I took them home yesterday, all clean and sweet-smelling. Awang and Lillie, territorial spoilt brats that they are, weren't too happy with the presence of these 'intruders'.

The mother is very sweet-natured and trusting. Fifty years of experience with cats told me that this mother wasn't a stray but someone's pet that was discarded not long after having her litter.

She's comfortable around strangers; you can cradle her without a fuss and she enjoys being stroked and rubbed. I let her out of the cage for brief periods so she can take in the sunshine on the balcony.

I am looking for a home for this adorable mom and her two frisky kittens and I'm willing to send them, as far as Kuala Selangor or Seremban (or anywhere within a two-hour drive), if need be.

I hate the idea of sending them to SPCA; the very thought of cats in cages for months upsets me. They are not meant to be imprisoned. They must be allowed to roam free.

However, if there are no takers, I may have to reconsider, unpalatable as the option may be. I would love dearly to keep them, but that's just not possible.

So please, people, if you want a pet and know of any who do, let me know. I can't thank you enough for it. May Allah swt bless you.

To Sir With Love II

Yours truly, Sekolah Kebangsaan Bukit Besi headgirl and the tallest in class (even amongst the boys!). There were only 11 of us girls in Std 6A, 1966. The 4th girl from right is Hamidah (story here), my best buddy in school.

Seated 4th from right is Cikgu Din, our class teacher whilst seated on extreme right is Yusof Ahmad, the headboy, who eventually went to Sekolah Dato' Abdul Razak (SDAR), Tanjung Malim.

Those long-ago days, boys wore shorts throughout primary school and prefects only donned pants on special occasions. Obviously, taking class pictures wasn't special enough.. :-D

Cikgu Din and his erstwhile pupil, 45 years on..

Tesco Damansara adjacent to The Curve is unfamiliar territory for I rarely venture out this far, my usual haunt being One Utama.

I was in Tesco only because I had learned that they open early (at 8 am) and close late (at 1 am) during the current holidays, and that they have two-tier shoe racks on sale, at RM8.88 as opposed to the usual price of RM13.90.

Considering that our family of four have more than 70 pairs of footwear between us, of which 7 are mine and 5 are Pak Abu's (why do these daughters of mine buy shoes like there's no tomorrow?), those stackable racks would definitely come in handy.

So there I was, deftly negotiating the aisles of Tesco pushing a still-empty shopping cart, with annoyingly wobbly wheels too, when the mobile rang.

What a pleasant surprise it was to hear the bubbly voice, with its charming Terengganu accent, at the other end of the line. It was Cikgu Samsudin Jusoh, known to all and sundry as Cikgu Din, my much-loved Primary One school teacher!

Cikgu Din and I renewed our acquaintance in March last year after a 44-year hiatus, at a very memorable school reunion held in Bukit Besi, Terengganu, where I was born and raised.

He was in town visiting his children and grandkids and had wanted to drop by our place before leaving for Dungun, where he lives, later in the day. Naturally, I was only too happy to have him and his family.

Cikgu Din, now in his 70s and rather frail physically (but very alert mentally), was much more than just a teacher. He was my beacon, my guiding light, my inspiration.

Even at such a tender age, I knew love when I saw one; I had loved him like a father, and he had reciprocated with absolute kindness.

I knew he had a soft spot for this gangly, fatherless girl he had taught from Standard One to Standard Six. He was steady and firm but never harsh, and was always full of advice and encouragement.

His ears were the first to hear of my aspiration to become a journalist. I must have been 12 then, in the final year of primary school, about to embark on yet another of life's journeys; the secondary school life.

He knew me as a voracious reader who loved writing and English and poetry, thus roped me in with clockwork regularity for school plays and debates.

He was my pillar of strength, who told me in no uncertain terms that I would succeed in my chosen vocation. It was those very words that had helped instil self-confidence that eventually shaped my future.

I had carried Cikgu Din in my heart throughout the years, always wondering if I would ever see him again. My feelings had never wavered, my affection intact.

And now, in the autumn of my life, we are reunited. Each time I kiss those withered old hands, I feel like a daughter lucky and blessed; Thank you God for bringing him back into my life....

Bilah's New Beginnings...

Newlyweds Adnan and Nabilah; their first picture as husband and wife, taken soon after the solemnisation of their marriage this morning.

Radiant bride Nabilah and her identical twin, Naquiyah.

The bride's seven trays of gifts and the groom's reciprocal five, as per tradition.

From left: The young kadhi with the bride's eldest brother and wali Nabil, paternal uncle Najib and maternal uncle Zulkarnain who stood as two of the four witnesses.

Adnan presenting his bride with her maskawin of gold and diamond bracelet.

With long-lost relatives - Emah and her daughter Shifa - who have been off my radar for a while due to distance and various commitments. As a schoolgirl, Emah used to be a state tennis champion and national player. Daughter Shifa, home for the holidays, is currently pursuing her post-graduate studies abroad. On the right is my daughter, Nawwar.

BILAH'S NEW BEGINNINGS...

The children welcome a new in-law today when their cousin Nabilah, daughter of their late Pak Utih Nazri (younger brother to the kids' dad), who passed away two years ago, tied the knot after a year-long engagement.

The 'aqad' ceremony was held at Masjid Wilayah Persekutuan in Jalan Duta this morning, witnessed by some 100 relatives and friends.

The 24 year-old bride looked resplendent in an unfussy modern kurung of pink chiffon and off-white satin, a lightly-beaded headgear, and holding a bouquet of pink and white roses.

Her eldest brother Nabil acted as wali and gave her away. The young father of three however created ripples of laughter when he tripped during the solemnisation ceremony.

Holding the groom's hand, Nabil was to have uttered the standard 'niqah' statement of ''Aku nikahkan dikau ..." (I wed thee to ...)

Instead, looking as apprehensive as the groom himself, he clasped his future brother-in-law's hand and nervously intoned "Aku terima nikahnya...." (I thee wed...), thus accepting the covenant for himself, before he realised the blunder.

It took a while for the hoots and guffaws to subside before the ceremony could restart. Oh Nabil, I do hope you didn't have pasang cawangan thoughts in mind when you tripped on the words!

To Nabilah and Adnan, Selamat Pengantin Baru. May Allah keep you both in His blessings and may you have a happy, contented married life and be blessed with beautiful zuriat. Ameen.

A CNY 'Misadventure'

I love it when a big chunk of the city population balik kampung for the extended holidays, leaving us transplanted city folks with the rare pleasure of peace and quiet brought forth by deserted streets and shuttered shoplots.

All that Pak Abu and I had wanted to do earlier in the evening was take a leisurely drive around the city centre, and perhaps pop in Kampung Baru or somewhere in the vicinity for a quick bite. We had certainly not bargained for a mini drama, albeit of Pak Abu's own doing, thrown in.

The drive had somehow led us to Wadi Hadramawt in Jalan Ampang where the family had dined in celebration of my birthday last October. Highly popular with locals and tourists alike (Arabs especially), the place was always packed and this time it was no different.

We found a nook by the entrance and sat down. After placing our order of lamb mandey, a mixed plate of fattoush, hummus and tabbouleh for starters, baklava for dessert, and mint tea, we settled in to wait.

That was when Pak Abu looked at me quizzically and asked: "Where's my wallet?" Naturally I had no answer to that because I wasn't in the habit of carrying his clutch bag for him.

[By 'wallet' he had meant his smallish, black leather clutch bag into which went everything; cash and cards, IC and diving licence, bills and receipts, and scraps of heaven knows what else].

A quick search in the car revealed nothing. On top of that, I had very little cash in my purse, for I had not bothered going to the teller machine earlier. Thirty quids was all I had on me.

We knew the clutch bag wasn't accidentally left at home because we had stopped by Petronas petrol station in Taman Tun to top up the tank before leaving.

Then it hit him: "Oh God, I must have left it on the table at Petronas when I was filling in the contest participation form!" [Worse, the table was outside, by the main door, in full view of and within reach by everyone].

There was nothing left to do but cancel our order and rush back to Taman Tun, hoping against hope that the bag would still be there or had been taken for safekeeping by the petrol station staff.

Our fervent, desperate prayers were thankfully answered, Syukur Alhamdulillah. The bag was sitting pretty, untouched, where Pak Abu had left it.

And that was how we ended up eating plain rice, telur bungkus, kerabu mangga and udang masak cili with petai in our Kelantan-Thai regular haunt, Santai. So much for lamb mandey...

Gong Xi Fa Cai!

Kama wishes all her Chinese readers and friends
a happy and prosperous New Year.

Selamat menyambut Tahun Arnab!

The Maid Had Fled...

Our next-door neighbour's maid of two short months absconded yesterday afternoon. And I was an unwitting witness to it.

I had just stepped out the door, trash bags in hand, when I caught sight of her grabbing her bright orange handbag, pre-stashed behind the half-opened door of the cleaner's room, and hurrying towards the lift.

[Each floor of this highrise has a small, unlocked cubicle for cleaners to stash their cleaning paraphernalia].

It was the sight of her, properly garbed in long black pants, purple blouse, a bright-coloured tudung and a pair of festive slippers making a beeline for her hidden tote that told me something was amiss.

However, it wasn't a done deal to simply confront her as she stood there waiting for the lift to arrive. For all it was, she could be going out with friends, and I would look like a moron.

So I kept it to myself; didn't even confide in the old man about it. I was waiting for the next door folks, a young couple with two kids, to return from their day out, to check things out.

The neighbour's much-loved, middle-aged maid had just returned home to Indonesia for good after eight long years of service. Her replacement was that sullen-looking woman in her early 20s.

This morning my suspicion was answered. The neighbour's wife stopped to chat as I stood by the door keeping an eye on our two cats, Lillie and Awang, having their daily excursion around the floor.

I told her what I saw when she informed that her maid had fled. She also said a quick check with the management office revealed quite a number of maids had taken to their heels these past few months, allegedly aided by 'orang dalam' (insiders).

Apparently there's a syndicate at work here, in this building, in which some of the janitors were allegedly involved. She mentioned the name 'Su', which gave me a jolt.

There's only one cleaner named Su, and with another named Eli, had been cleaning my unit twice weekly for the last one month since our old, dependable bibik returned home to Jogjakarta in November last year.

The duo had approached me soon after bibik left, asking to replace bibik. I was a-okay with the idea; after all they had only wanted to earn some extra cash and I certainly could do with extra hands to clean the bathrooms.

This morning I caught hold of Eli working downstairs and told her what I knew. She went pale, asking me again and again: "Puan nampak dia lari?" (You saw her flee?) "Yup," was my curt reply.

Hours later the neighbour rang my bell to inform that she had viewed the newly installed CCTV together with the security people. Su's involvement was confirmed.

She was in every frame, on the mobile acting as a look-out whilst a strange man came to collect the runaway maid's baggage. Eli was not to be seen, so we have yet to know the extent of her involvement in this charade.

Naturally the neighbour was very annoyed. "I confronted Su, Kak, but she denied everything. She chose to keep quiet when we told her we have the evidence on tape." She has since made a police report.

In the meantime, the agency that had employed the cleaners would conduct their own investigations on their workers' alleged involvement. They could be dismissed if proven true, I was told.

"It's not so much the RM6,000 that we have wasted in getting her here, Kak; it's the inconvenience that we have to face because we both work and the kids have school. Thank God for the holidays; at least we can take stock and get things organised before school reopens."

And me? These duo had just started working for us. They came in twice weekly, every Wednesday and Sunday; their job limited to cleaning the 3 bathrooms and all the windows, mopping the floor, dusting the fans, shelves etc.

I paid their first month's due just yesterday and I don't know if I want them to continue. feeling vulnerable the way I do now; I just don't feel safe anymore. Am I being paranoid?

Frankly, I'm pretty pissed myself at the goings-on. What's with these people, anyway? Don't they have any sense of amanah at all?

English Trifle

Trifle 1, using orange sponge cake

Trifle 2, using swiss roll

Those familiar with British cooking will definitely know what English trifle is. The Brits are not known for their culinary prowess - that, I believe, is the territory of the French - but they do have a reasonable number of good, fuss-free dishes.

Rich and filling Shepherd's Pie is a good example. Another is Steak & Kidney Pie, my pub favourite during those young, carefree days. Yet another is that old standard-bearer, Fish & Chips, eaten with a sprinkling of vinegar.

And then there's Blighty classic Bubble & Squeak, a meat & vegetable dish made of beef, leftover potatoes and mashed cabbage. For desserts there's the oddly-named Spotted Dick which is actually a steamed fruit and raisin sponge pudding eaten with custard sauce.

My knowledge of British cooking is woefully limited to a select few, firstly because I have never taken to the kitchen and secondly because I prefer the more flavourful Mediterranean food than bland British offerings.

But English Trifle is something else altogether. It's a dessert dish made from thick custard, fruit, sponge cake, fruit juice, gelatin or jelly, and whipped cream, all arranged in layers with fruit and sponge on the bottom, and custard and cream on top.

I have always liked trifle but did not have the right recipe to prepare it (and wasn't too keen about using recipes from the internet).

Thankfully, my blogger buddies Dee and Shahieda graciously parted with their respective English trifle recipes upon reading of my request in Facebook.

I have tried the recipes twice; they turned out reasonably okay and I would like to share them with you. Happy trying!


Ingredients:

1) One swiss roll (evenly sliced). Can also use orange sponge cake (cut into small squares).

2) I big can of mixed fruits (I use Steffi's Choice), pour off syrup and put aside.

3) 1 packet of Nona instant jelly crystals (flavour according to cake type, strawberry for swiss roll, orange for orange sponge). Prepare as per instruction and put aside to cool.

4) 2 tbsps Bird's custard powder + 2 tbsps fresh milk, mix into a paste.

5) 200 ml (roughly one mug) fresh milk, add 2 tbsps sugar and bring to boil, then add custard paste and stir slowly until you get the right consistency.

6) Whipped cream, glace cherries and slivered almonds for decoration (if you like; I make do without them).

Method:

1) Cut cake into pieces and lay some pieces enough to cover the bottom of the bowl. If you use swiss roll, stack the pieces on the side of the bowl as well.

2) Moisten the cake pieces with canned fruit syrup (use a tablespoon to dribble the syrup). Dribble sparingly, else the cake will get too soggy.

3) Pour jelly onto cake (1st layer) and cool in the fridge for a couple of minutes.

4) Sprinkle mixed fruits on top of the jelly layer.

5) Pour custard on top of mixed fruits.

6) Start layering all over again with moistened cake pieces, followed by jelly, mixed fruits and custard, until you have used up all the ingredients.

7) If you like, you can decorate with whipped cream topped with glace cherries and sprinkled with slivered almonds (I prefer plain custard topping).

8) Let the bowl sit in your fridge for a short while, perhaps 30 minutes, before eating.

Pahala Free

Semalam saya dapat pahala free. Dalam saya dok diam-diam belek kuku, garu telinga dan cungkil gigi, tak ganggu sesiapa pun, ada jugak insan yang sudi sedekah pahala. Terima kasih ajalah.

Ini semua gara-gara menulis ikut perasaan. Emosi yang tak dibendung, kata orang. Hentam dulu, pikir kemudian. Penyudahnya kebodohan sendiri yang terserlah. Apa punya singkat otak daa...

Pada awalnya hati saya agak keberatan nak menyingkap kembali the unfortunate incident (read here) yang melibatkan saya dan keluarga dengan sebuah restoran Melayu di Taman Tun Dr Ismail ini.

Bagi saya, kisah itu sudah berlalu. Dah ada penutupnya pun. Saya dah buat yang terbaik pada tanggapan saya (read here). Tapi bila saya dihina dengan kata-kata kesat seperti di bawah, berderau juga darah.

Anonymous said...

http://www.friedchillies.com/index.php/site/detail/dcengkih/

Pendengki macam orang DAP. Berlagak Islamik dan pro-Umno tapi nak jatuhkan bisnes orang Melayu sendiri. Kau patut duduk Penang tolong Lim Guan Eng halau peniaga-peniaga Melayu. Bila Melayu buat silap sikit, terus nak kritik. Bila mamak charge mahal, tak senyum, makanan lambat sampai, kau ok je. Bila Melayu terus nampak. Hati busuklah kau ni. Aku bukan owner restoran, aku adalah orang yang benci Melayu dengki kat Melayu. Aku berani junjung Quran. Kau mana berani kan? Kau ni macam Anwar lah perangai.

January 25, 2011 8:14 PM

Komen ini muncul dalam ruang komen posting saya yang bertajuk Money, Money, Money (read here).

Saya pun ingin jugak nak tau; yang saya nak berdengki dengan pengusaha restoran Melayu tu kenapa? Owner kedai tu pun saya tak kenal. Lagipun, saya bukan tuan punya restoran, bukan berniaga makanan, bukan pesaing.

Malah, kalau kena gayanya dulu, mungkin saya dan suami dah jadi regular customers kat situ memandangkan kami lebih banyak makan di kedai daripada makan di rumah, sebab kami hanya berdua, jadi masak tak berbaloi.

Andainya khidmat yang diberi itu baik, makanan sedap dan harga berpatutan, sudah tentu kami paling kerap mengulangi kedai tersebut, sebagaimana kami dok ulang Santai, Ismail, Doli, Quali, Puteri, Wak Chai, Dapur Mas, Homst, Muhibbah, Salero Nogori, Jaseema, Paandi, .99 dan lain-lain.

Itu hakikatnya. Jangan lupa, di TTDI ni pilihan cukup banyak. Baru tadi kami mencuba Nasi Padang di Restoran Bagindo yang baru dibuka 8 hari lalu. Dua tiga pintu sebelum Bagindo ada lagi eatery baru, Ruz Aladdin @TTDI, yang berniaga biryani gam Johor.

Kata Kak Anon 8.14 lagi: "Bila Melayu buat silap sikit, terus nak kritik. Bila mamak charge mahal, tak senyum, makanan lambat sampai, kau ok je. Bila Melayu terus nampak. Hati busuklah kau ni."

Yang ni saya nak jawab: kami tunggu SATU JAM. Satu jam tu lama! Bukan 15 minit, bukan 20 minit, bukan setengah jam, bukan 45 minit. SATU JAM! Kami ada hak tegur sebab kami customer, yang nak makan berbayar, bukan nak makan free.

Sepertimana yang saya tulis dalam posting asal saya, bukan kami sekeluarga aja yang walkout, terdapat beberapa orang office workers yang juga angkat kaki sebab tidak dilayani.

Lunch hour mereka terhad, dari jam 1 hingga 2. Tentunya mereka mencari pilihan lain. Kedua-dua anak saya juga kembali ke pejabat lewat setengah jam kerana debacle ini.

Dah la makanan tak nampak kelibat sampai sudah, bila ditanya kena herdik pulak. Service macam ni tak boleh ditegur? Kalau tak boleh terima teguran membina, baik toksah berniaga.

Orang tegur untuk kebaikan, supaya apa yang terkurang dapat diperbaiki. Kalau tegur kena bantai balik, terer la lu berniaga, kawan!

Untuk pengetahuan Kak Anon 8.14, saya tak pernah pilih bulu. Mamak ker, Cina kopitiam ker, makcik warung tomyam ker, kalau tak betul memang saya tegur. Saya bukan jenis suffer in silence. Jadi jangan memandai-mandai buat andaian sendiri.

Hah, yang ni kita masuk bab kelakar tak terampun. Tergelak besar saya baca sebab tahap bingainya mencakar awan. "Aku berani junjung Quran. Kau mana berani kan? Kau ni macam Anwar lah perangai."

Junjung Quran untuk apa ni? Untuk mengesahkan pada dunia (atau sekurang-kurangnya kepada penduduk TTDI) yang restoran tu bagus?

Di sini saya nak sahkan, nak ulangi - tak perlu junjung Quran pun - bahawa restoran itu sudah berubah. Presentation dan servicenya dah lama improved. Jauh lebih baik daripada masa saya pergi kali pertama dulu (yang baik tetap saya kata baik).

Junjung Quran untuk mengesahkan kami sekeluarga termangu-mangu tunggu makanan tak sampai hingga SATU JAM dan bila ditanya kena herdik? Tang tu sangguplah, sebab ianya benar.

Dah la gitu, tak pasal diheretnya nama anak Pak Brahim sekali dalam tirade dia. Isy, apa punya dangkal. Apa kena mengena si Nuar tu dengan this silly little spat? Takder relevance langsung!

Jadi hingga di sinilah al-kisah saya dengan kedai tersebut. Lepas ni, mintak-mintak janganlah melatah lagi. Saya dah komen dan saya dah redeem; cukuplah kan. Bawak mengucap ya Kak?

"Would That I Knew..."

A constant reminder that death is not very far away...
Thank you Nawwar, for sharing..