Anas-Hafsah Engagement

My sister Ana (second from left, in pink), obliging the pixman with a pose with her future 'menantu' Sharifah Hafsah soon after the 'sarung cincin' ceremony.

Yours truly flanked by her maternal uncle Tn Hj Ir. Mohd Ali and his wife Hjh Shareefah Shamsiah. Ayahcik Li, who retired as Telecoms DG in the mid 1990s, is the last surviving member of my late mother's four siblings.

Part of the five-tray gift from the groom-to-be. That's a dressed-up 'tepak sirih' in the forefront.

Cake from him.

Cake from her.

Anas's Engaged...

My nephew Anas, the only son of my sister Ana and her husband Annuar, got engaged to his lady love Sharifah Hafsah in Ampang this afternoon.

A ray of sunshine amidst the gloom that had pervaded the family since the demise of their eldest daughter Amirah in October last year (she succumbed to cancer at the age of 25).

If all goes according to plan, Anas and Hafsah will tie the knot in February next year.

U'start'... U'start'...

Inilah dia bila berguru sekerat jalan (sekerat pun tak lepas kot, kalau macam ni gayanya). Yang pasti bukan salah ibu mengandung, atau salah UMNO atau BN maupun Kerajaan Malaysia, seperti yang dicanangkan.

Look inside yourself, Bob. Take a very long look. Pandang diri sendiri. Kesyukuran nampaknya dah lesap entah kemana. Adakah ketentuan Ilahi - Qadaq dan Qadar - nak di tolak ke tepi? Jangan sampai pahala di undang, dosa mendatang...

Berubah ke arah kebaikan itu bagus. Kesedaran akan kesilapan dulu itu bagus. Nak tebus dosa dengan meningkatkan amalan yang dah lama diabaikan tu tersangatlah bagus.

Tapi apa perlunya berdakwah atas pentas politik? Bukan tak tau bila dakwah bercampur aduk dengan politik, satu antara dua akan tenggelam. Fikir-fikirlah, jangan terbawa-bawa.

Salah satu kesilapan besar yang 'born-again Muslims' macam bekas penghibur Bob Lokman ni lakukan ialah menyemat 'holier than thou attitude" dalam hati sebaik saja berpatah balik ke pangkal jalan. Fail lah Bob, awal-awal lagi dah fail ujian..

http://mahaguru58.blogspot.com/

http://ruangbicarafaisal.blogspot.com/

Bob, Bob.. bawak bertenang dik..

A Friend In Need..

I don't know Kerp and Molee personally. What I know of Kerp, I do through his blog and that we share quite a number of mutual friends, among them Rocky of Rocky's Bru, Kak Teh of Choc-a-Blog Blog, Pi Bani of Pi's Twist and Elviza of Write Away.

Be that as it may, Kerp and Molee need our support. Let's do our bit and help spread the word as well. Click below for more details:

http://www.bloghousemalaysia.com/2011/05/blog-house-launches-b4bkerp-fund.html

Bekas Guru Ya?

Friday morning last I dropped by my neighbourhood Speedmart mini market for a loaf of bread. At the payment counter, the cashier, a pleasant-faced girl of perhaps 18, gave me a friendly smile and asked:"Tak kerja hari ni?"

I returned the smile, saying "Saya dah pencen." That's not quite the whole truth, for I do not draw any pension of any kind from anywhere, and I am still writing professionally, but it beats having to explain what I do for a living.

Then she blurted: "Bekas guru ya?" Now, saying 'Yes' would definitely be an outright lie but saying 'No' would need a qualifier, and I wasn't in the mood to indulge. So I drew a deep breath, ayed with conviction, took my loaf and change, and left.

Throughout my career as a journalist, and now beyond it, I have always been mistaken as a teacher and not once any other profession.

I have been told time and again that I possess that school-marmish look and that I would not look out of place in front of a classroom or a lecture hall. As always, I would go away feeling good about myself.

Let it be known that I love being taken for a teacher, because teaching is one of the most noble professions ever, and deep in my heart I knew I would have made a fine, dedicated cikgu.

In fact, it was a toss between teaching and journalism way back in 1973. Had it not been for the timely arrival of that offer letter from the New Straits Times, I would have entered a teachers' college, majored in English and taught till the day I retired.

Today, in celebration of Teacher's Day, here I am, wishing all cikgus out there a warm Hari Guru from the bottom of my heart.

I have so many of them to thank for, for turning me into what I am today; from Cikgu Samsudin Jusoh (here and here) who guided me from Primary One to Six, to Mr Magan Lal who held my hand over Mathematics that had me completely addled in Form Three, to Cikgu Jawhariah Mahmood who shared the beauty of English and poetry with me in Form Five; I love them all...

The Maids Are Coming..... Again

Soon we'll be seeing an influx of Indonesian maids all over again, now that the ban imposed two years ago by Indonesia in the wake of several high-profile maid abuse cases by a few irresponsible Malaysian employers has been lifted.

It was reported in the papers yesterday that up to 1,000 maids would be dispatched to Malaysia each month to fill the void, and that 35,000 Malaysian families were said to be waiting anxiously for their respective house help.

According to Yunus Yamani, chairman of the Association of Indonesian Labour Exporters, recruitment agencies had been training workers over the past two months in anticipation of the lifting of the ban.

Kuala Lumpur and Jakarta had recently signed a Letter of Intent to give a new dimension to the employment of domestic workers in Malaysia and had reportedly agreed on revised terms.

To quote The Star: "A joint task force was set up to scrutinise four main issues pertaining to the recruitment of maids; a day's rest every week, handling of the maid's passport according to Immigration laws, the structure of fees charged by recruiting agents and, on runaway maids."

All fine and dandy, until one despicable housewife among us good, kind-hearted people starts using her maid's back as an ironing board and her head as a punching bag (literally).

Or until someone's husband, or son, or father (or heaven forbids, all of them) start forcing themselves on a hapless maid somewhere, as though sex is part of the package.

Then, the equally sordid tableau of those BENDERA (Benteng Demokrasi Rakyat) morons 'sweeping' the streets of Jakarta with their sharpened bamboo poles, waiting to pounce on unsuspecting Malaysians (mostly tourists with $$$ in their pockets waiting to help prop their economy), will be replayed all over again.

Not a pretty picture and never will be but that's reality, believe me. For as long as we have a few evil-incarnates as employers, the Big Top will never fold and the carousel will not stop turning. The circus will go on.

And that's half the story told. How about conniving domestics, the ungratefuls whom you take into your home and hearth in kindness and then they piss in your rice pot before absconding with your valuables?

I have nothing against Indonesian domestic help (or imported labour force in general). Many are here seeking 'rezeki halal' and it is our duty as responsible Muslims to help our less fortunate brethren.

But truth be told, I am one weary woman insofar as this Indonesian domestic help issue is concerned. I have lived through the era of local maids and the chasm yawns wide between the two.

Those days, the acquisition of local maids was, almost always, through relatives back in the kampung. Someone would inform of a poor family willing to offer their daughter as house help or child minder.

The girl's background would not be a mystery to her potential employers. More often than not, the employers would take the trouble to 'jemput' (invite/collect) the girl themselves from her family, thus meeting her folks face to face and reassuring them that their girl would be cared for.

This is all history today. Kampung girls have been adequately educated, that washing someone else's dirty dishes and laundry cease to be an option. Their horizon has broaden beyond someone's kitchen. I applaud that, in the name of progress.

Frankly, you don't know where you are with foreign imports. There is nothing that you can verify about them. You have to accept your agent's word as the gospel truth; it's scary. It's like playing Russian roulette; one wrong move and you're done for.

I understand perfectly the need for foreign (read: Indonesian) maids, and I feel for families in desperate need of their services. Still, the answer I think lies not on the shores of Indonesia, but right here at home, in our government policies, sadly wanting as it were.

For years there were talks about setting up creches at the workplace. Till today it remains a pipe dream. Of course there are some in existence since, but not enough is being done.

We have the resources and the money but lack the willpower to push things through. Same old, same old. When will things ever change?

In the mean time, get prepared for more Ganyang Malaysia 'idiotcyncracies' from those gormless yokels and lunatics, with their misplaced sense of patriotism, in BENDERA...

Eat, Sing.. What A Life!

New Faces Win The Day

Finally, it's over and done with, the Royal Lake Club in-house karaoke competition, I mean. Held on Friday, May 13th, there were, coincidentally, 13 contestants (3 ladies among them) in the main category and two in the newly introduced junior category.

I wasn't too gung-ho about participating this year. Two years in a row was good enough. After being placed third two years ago and second last year, I thought 'cukuplah'.

Also, I was (and still am) a wee bit under the weather. Just four hours before the competition, I was down with migraine and was spilling my guts away. Thankfully, the pain eased somewhat later in the evening.

The RLC does have a good crop of singing talent. The only problem is they are not keen to compete, and we need a strong team to represent the club at the annual inter-club competition.

The Royal Lake Club was inter-club champion for four consecutive years, its reign dethroned only last year, by a very narrow margin too, by the National Press Club.

We managed to attract new blood last night and true enough, they shone, as they should. Christopher Lee came out tops, followed by Adam Teoh, with yours truly making up the flank in third placing.

Chris has strong vocals and delightful showmanship. Adam is a young man with an old soul, a crooner with easy, laidback style. Both are worthy winners.

We are proud to have found our 'pasukan pelapis' for the forthcoming inter-club competition to be held June 4th at Kelab Golf Negara Subang.

As for me, I'll stay true to my earlier promise of quitting the competition after the inter-club (top five of last night's finalists will represent the club at the biggie). Way to go guys..!

Pak Abu was placed 7th; that's his trophy on the left.

Memorable "Hari Ibu"

With the exception of birthdays, the Abus hardly celebrate any of the "Day"s that come our way each year - Valentine's, Mother's, Father's - although we occasionally go out for a family 'makan' on the day in question.

This year, our friend Omar decided to honour the mothers among his karaoke kakis and so brought an insanely rich cheesecake, and gifts, to our monthly 'keriau' session.

I reciprocated by ordering equally sinful treats from the Royal Lake Club's Garden Cafe; brownies, date & walnut squares, carrot cake.. What's a few (trillion) calories among friends?

Thank you Kitty, Sue and Mel for joining us. Dayang and Anum, you missed out on the fun. Omar, your thoughtfulness is much appreciated!

Plates of Joy II

One of the earliest pieces I wrote when I first started blogging three years ago was "Plates of Joy" (here), about my hobby of plate collecting - decorative plates, that is. Recently the ex and wife went on an Iberian holiday and thoughtfully brought home a ceramic plate of Madrid (pix above) for yours truly. Muchas gracias, Senor Ex!

This one from Peru is a real stunner; it's made of wood and painted with motif depicting the Aztec culture. It's a gift from Irene, a fellow Royal Lake Club member, who went on a two-week jaunt of Latin America last year. A small wooden vase of similar design accompanied the plate. Much appreciated, Irene!


This is a gift from journalist Fuzz (colleague of my two kids in the Press), who went traipsing around Eastern Europe last year. Fuzz actually presented me with two; one from Croatia and the other from Warsaw. Both are equally beautiful. Dzienkuje, Fuzz! (Pronounced 'jenn-koo-yeh', that's "thank you" in Polish).

Gerammmm...

The self-explanatory notice above, hooked on the door this evening, was borne out of sheer frustration. I've had enough, even if what had happened was certainly not by design.

My forgetfulness is beyond redemption; no amount of 'kismis' can put things right again, I think.

Last night, in the company of some illustrious guests at a dinner in a friend's place, I reached out for my camera... and... well, you know the story..

It first happened some months back when a few makcik bloggers met for lunch at The Curve. I got everyone together for a photo session, only to find that the memory card was not in place.

It happened again at the signing of Awang Goneng's "A Map of Trengganu" in Mid-Valley recently. I had to wait for some blogger friends to put up their snapshots and 'curi' a couple from their collection, for my entry.

Last night was the clincher. My ex-media colleagues Ishak Nengah and wife Aishah Ali got a few close friends together for a cosy evening at their place in Subang Jaya to celebrate Awang Goneng's birthday.

The guest list included our evergreen songstress Datuk Sharifah Aini, whom I had not met since I left the Press. She looked as stunning as ever.

Also present were Nuraina Samad, Zainul Ariffin and Manja Ismail, the three Datuks from the media, an old, old friend from the 1980s, socialite Nora Marzuki and a few more.

When the time came for 'tangkap gambar', mine was the only non-functional camera there. Now I have to wait for Kak Teh to put hers up on Facebook in order to snatch a couple for this entry. Haisyyy....

Regrets.. and Hope

Misdirected Mail

Sometimes I wish people have the decency to redirect, pronto, correctly addressed mail that have been mistakenly placed in their letter boxes.

In the first instance, let's not put the blame squarely on the shoulders of the postal folks. They deliver millions of letters daily; one or two are bound to go astray. We have a civic duty to do what's right, under the circumstances.

It doesn't take much, just a brief walk to the public letterbox down the road or, if there isn't any, take it to the office and ask the office boy or Girl Friday to help. If you can't even manage that, then you truly lack what matters.

This morning someone slipped a wedding invitation (correctly addressed to me but delivered elsewhere obviously) under my door. It was mailed in Shah Alam on the 29th of March, for a wedding on the 9th of April.

I have this sneaky feeling the card was inadvertently dropped into someone else's mailbox at this condo, and never made it to my door until today. Needless to say, the family missed the event.

To my cousin Sheikh Mazlan and wife Rubiah, we truly regret our absence at the double wedding of your sons (and our nephews) Ameer and Shaheer. Rest assured it was not intentional.

Al-Fatihah

They are leaving us, one by one. And soon, it will be our turn, for, there is nothing more certain than death. My beloved aunt, Hajjah Puteri Halimah Megat Khas, younger sister of my late father, passed away peacefully yesterday.

I loved 'Nda Mah with all my heart; she was kindness personified. Her first offspring, Mustafa, is the eldest of all of Tok Megat Khas's grandchildren, while my brother Yusof comes a close second.

May Allah Subhanahu Wata'ala forgive all her transgressions and place her soul in the company of the blessed. Amin.

Bon Voyage, Mamasita!

Caught up with newly-single blogger Nurulhuda (aka Mamasita) this morning at her sister's house in Taman Tun Dr Ismail. I was there to bid her adieu; Huda was leaving for umrah in the afternoon.

Although she was her usual bubbly, 'colgate-smile' self, I could discern a tinge of sadness in her laughter.

By the time this piece of mine gets written, Huda would have arrived in Makkah or Madinah, and if it was the former, in all probability she would have completed her 'Tawaf Qudum" (welcome tawaf) by now.

To my dear Huda, may you find the peace of mind that you seek, in the shadows of Baitullah, and may Allah Subhanahu Wata'ala bless every step that you take in the Holy Land...

Not Quite A Lemon But...

Our (not so) reliable old car is on the blink again, and I've stopped counting after the third time (else I'll surely lose three days' worth of pahala for the expletives spewed).

This precisely is the trouble when one buys a used car. Only God knows how many hands had fiddled with the innards of this 'old-new' wheels of ours before we took possession of it last year.

This time it had the grace to die on us at a petrol station, as opposed to the last time when the front wheel axle gave way (!) smack at the entrance of our residence, with hapless me behind the wheels.

The screeching, grating sounds it made as the undercarriage dragged for a few metres towards the guardhouse could have woken up the dead in the nearby Kampung Sungai Pencala cemetery.

I think there isn't much to distinguish between our ancient wheels and our decrepit old selves; both are equally cantankerous.

We bought this ageing Merc to deter thieves, after our four-year old Wira got hot-wired in Shah Alam in March last year. Our reasoning; who would be dumb enough to relieve us of this crappy thing on wheels?

I guess the car, now at a workshop in Kg Sungai Pencala, is having the last laugh. The alternator needs replacing while the gasket needs to be repaired.

And we have not even factored in the jammed auto windows (all but one), the hot again, cold again air conditioning, the 'dead as a dodo' dashboard lighting.

I wonder how much do we have to fork out this time; putting it together was close to 5 grand when we first took it home last year. Well, there goes the holiday... (sigh..)

NOTE: Now, if you see a grumpy-looking old lady snug-fit behind the wheels of her daughter's mean black Viva, flying all over TTDI (the car is soooo light it feels like flying!), give her a wide berth, just in case.. :D

AMoT Again, Naturally...

Yes, that's the world renowned shoe baron alright, the one whose creations are much sought after by the moneyed high and mighty. But what a pleasant, down-to-earth man he turned out to be, the epitome of grace and humility. Datuk Jimmy Choo, flanked by my fellow bloggers Zendra & Kay (left) and yours truly.

Remember Andre Goh, the 'Baba Melaka' with the golden keroncong voice? He topped the charts in the 60s and 70s, and still looked great after all these years. "You still have it, Andre!" And in case you are wondering, the sweet smiling lady in brown standing next to Andre is blogger Kak Teh.

Toh Puan Rosita, a member of Terengganu royalty, getting her copy signed by AG. Toh Puan Rosita's own maiden effort, a hefty tome called "Kulit Manis - A Taste of Terengganu's Heritage" featuring the East Coast state's culinary delights, was launched just over a year ago and recently received international recognition.

Emcee extraordinaire Ishak Nengah, a former colleague (we were together in the Malay Mail in the mid 70s), was also there. Ishak is on the mend after a terrifying bout with cancer. My prayers are with you Syak; hope you'll recover fully. That's Dr Lee Su Kim, author of "Malaysian Flavours" and "Kebaya Tales" sitting next to him.

This group of young musicians is called "Dewangga Sakti" and played beautiful traditional music. They accompanied Andre Goh, who sportingly crooned Asli number "Tudung Periuk" upon Kak Teh's special request.

AMoT Again, Naturally..

The invitation said "a small group of friends." The event: a get-together of sorts, specially organised to celebrate the publication of Awang Goneng's (AG) second book, "A Map of Terengganu" (AMoT).

The place: R A Fine Arts, an exclusive consultancy art gallery located in Solaris Dutamas, Sri Hartamas, within sight of both Masjid Wilayah and the Agung's new palace now being built.

I had earlier decided to turn up a little later than other guests. After all, Pak Abu and I had already met up with AG, his charming wife Zaharah Othman (blogger Kak Teh) and their two lovely daughters at the official book launch & signing in MPH MidValley the day before.

But if I had thought I could get away that easily, I was mistaken. A flurry of text messages, from fellow bloggers, beeped through soon after 3pm. "Where are you?" asked one pointedly. "Kak Puteri datang tak?" asked another. And the phone calls... "We have arrived, where are you?"...

Stepping off the escalator, I was confronted with a sight that truly warmed my heart; the gallery was chock-a-block with folks coming to honour the author. Perhaps 100 of them, packing the limited space; This was no small group of friends!

I am glad I went. Lots of media old timers were amongst the invitees (not surprising, since both AG and Kak Teh were with the NST in the mid '70s) and I got to meet old friends I had not seen for decades.

There was Leung Thong Ping, once my senior in the Malay Mail before she left to set up Mayfair Design and went fulltime into fashion designing, with a popular boutique in Sg Wang Plaza. Her range of batik cheongsam was among my favourite wear those days. We had not seen each other for almost 30 years.

So many people from my past it was almost like stepping into a time tunnel. Pak Non (Zainon Ahmad) from The Sun, filmmaker Anwardi Jamil, 70s singer Adnan Othman, NST Group supremo Datuk Manja Ismail and wife Norzita (now with Petronas)..

Another media head honcho Datuk Rejal Arbee and wife Noraini, sisters and one-time fellow scribes Aishah & Saleha Ali (now running their own consultancy), Malaysiana author Dr Lee Su Kim, the university lecturer whose book "Malaysian Flavours" remains one of my favourites, and a few others whose names had escaped me totally...

Then there were my fellow bloggers, commenters and FB friends in the form of Pok Ku, Zendra, Kay Leeda, Hafsah a.k.a. Cat-in-Sydney, Elviza, Ollie Khalid, Kak Nasirah, Uncle Som... some with their respective spouses in tow.

I missed out a few people though; Raja Bahrain and his (new) wife, Tengku Ismail Su (both from Terengganu royal house), author and former journalist Dina Zaman, artiste Noryn Aziz, my fellow blogger/social worker Iskandar...

"Meriah" was the word. Yet another successful outing for AG and co. Congratulations!

Of Princes & Mistresses

Alice Keppel, mistress to King Edward VII and great-grandmother to latter-day royal mistress Camilla Parker-Bowles, now wife of Prince Charles, with the title of Duchess of Cornwall.

Well, to paraphrase an old Malay saying (with the necessary substitutions, of course); kemanalah tumpahnya brown sauce kalau tidak ke atas roast beef dan yorkshire pudding..

April, a month of meagre takings, blogwise. It wasn't laziness, far from it. It was that dreaded writer's block, when one just doesn't seem to be able to put pen to paper (so to speak) and get going.

Now that May's here, let's just hope the creative juices get flowing once again. If sense is of any indication, "the merry month of May" may just be a month of ayes and not nays.

THE sentimental old fool in me surfaced upon watching Prince William and Catherine Middleton getting hitched. Each time I caught sight of William, dashingly handsome and looking every inch his mother's son, a lump rose in my throat.

I shed tears for Diana, long gone now. The mother in me ached, to see Diana's eldest offspring becoming a husband and she wasn't there to share his joy.

I think William will do well as a husband for he married a woman he's deeply in love with. Seems like he has a good head on his shoulders, which is a welcome relief after his father's tiresome shenanigans.

I'm still unable to camouflage my distaste for the fellow who married an unsuspecting young lady, for propriety's sake and to secure an heir to the throne no doubt, whilst deeply entrenched with the love for an old girlfriend (and someone else's wife).

Then again, the British monarchy is steeped in the history of shrewd mistresses (the mattresses of many an errant king) and cuckolded husbands; who could forget Nell Gwynn, Alice Keppel, Lilly Langtry, Wallis Simpson, to name but a few?

Or even the hapless Countess of Suffolk, Henrietta Howard, who, believe it or not, was 'traded in' by her nobleman husband to King George II to settle his gambling debts? So don't get me started on the Cornwalls...