Life's Remains....

Another day closer to the end of another year. It's just another day in the Gregorian calendar. Muslims already had our new year a couple of months ago, and, was treated by many as another public holiday. The Gregorian Calendar is named after Pope Gregory the XIII who refined the original calendar started by the Romans. Julius Caesar tweaked it a little and changed the name of the 7th month from Quintilis to Julius... or as we know it today, July. (Subsequently, Augustus Caesar also changed the 8th month to August from Sextilis... which is a good thing). Anyway, 2016 was an eventful year I supposed, with all the things happening around the world, death and mayhem, suppression and oppression, corruption and pollution. Children killed, women raped, immigrants drown fleeing unrest in their home country. Sometimes I can't believe that we are already in the 21st century, almost 2 decades deep. Yet, racism is still as much a problem as it was in the last century. For me, ...

Aesop's Fables was probably the first book that my father ever bought for me. It has left a couple of profound marks on my development as a human being. One, I now only read short stories... and two, I am Shams... the Sun.... THE WIND and the Sun were disputing which was the stronger. Suddenly they saw a traveller coming down the road, and the Sun said: “I see a way to decide our dispute. Whichever of us can cause that traveller to take off his cloak shall be regarded as the stronger You begin.” So the Sun retired behind a cloud, and the Wind began to blow as hard as it could upon the traveller. But the harder he blew the more closely did the traveller wrap his cloak round him, till at last the Wind had to give up in despair. Then the Sun came out and shone in all his glory upon the traveller, who soon found it too hot to walk with his cloak on.         “KINDNESS EFFECTS MORE THAN SEVERITY.” That's why many people tell me I am soft.... but hot tem...

I don't like babies. They are so cute and cuddly, then the next thing you know they are adults. But, you are still responsible for them. It's not fair, for God to make these babies so cute that, as they were growing up, you just want to give them everything. We feel really bad when they cry and we are happy when they laugh. So, we want to keep them happy, and by keeping them happy, we are happy... I guess it's self-serving.... like everything else we do in life. God made us such that we keep wanting things. When we were small, we want to grow up, when we're grown up we want to get married, after we're married we want to have babies... then we can't wait for the babies to grow up and when they've grown up they treat us like a bottomless ATM machine. And, they think they have a right over whatever we own. And, that the things we gave them, are their rights to have. And, you ask yourself..... why did I want babies? I am envious of a friend. A very success...

I am afraid of drowning. For the last half century, as much as I like to frolick in the water, I would panic the moment my feet can't feel the bottom. This year, one "brave" thing I did, is to take swimming lessons. Actually, I signed up my youngest son, Aiman, whose most strenuous physical activity he ever engaged in was to mop the kitchen floor at the behest of his mother. I had to drive him, of course, to his lessons, at the Darul Ehsan Aquatic Center, and hang around the crowded swimming pool together with the other parents. The lessons were on Saturdays, and after four Saturdays or so (I can't quite recall), I decided to join him in the pool. We started in the public pool, the outdoor pool where most lessons start since the depth is just 1.5 meters. I had eight lessons, and after being taught the correct technique for the breaststroke and the freestyle, the coach told me that I have practically learned all I need to learn, because the next lesson will ...

Something is bothering me. It's something that was said (texted actually) by somebody to someone else, but I cannot get myself over the prejudice and how much bile and hatred that laced the simple few words. I  have the utmost respect for the person to whom the words were directed, as she had chosen to totally ignore it, a sign of maturity and sensibility. Had it been uttered to me, I would have probably went on a rant that I know I will later regret. What more, if the person saying those words is one that I am supposed to have respect for. Also, what was uttered made me rethink of filial piety, something that is expected in our society. We demand respect from our children, sometimes forgetting that our children will grow up to be another member of the human race just as we are. I dislike those who "remind" us that a mother can care for many children but the many children can't care for that one mother. I believe that if the mother had brought up the chi...

I started school in 1971. I went to Sekolah Ismail (Dua), as far as I am concerned the only primary school in the whole universe and every kid must go there or the government will put their parents away forever. The "Dua" or Two (2), does not mean there were two Sekolah Ismails. There was only one, except that there were two sessions, morning and afternoon. When I started in standard one, I was in the morning session. Apparently, somehow, the two Ismails alternate, and I really can't recall ever having to go to school in the afternoon. Every morning, my cousin, the late Hashimah Hashim (Allah bless her soul), and I would wait for Pak Mat to pick us up in his beca, his trishaw. And, until I changed school in 1976 (that's another story to tell), Pak Mat and his beca would take me to school every school day. I know of no other way to go to school and I did not really appreciate the distance that Pak Mat had to cycle to pick us up and send us to our respective s...

If there is one in my family who have truly lived, it would be my brother Zainal. I must, regretfully, admit, that, as an elder brother, he has always been an elusive man of mystery for me. Being the youngest, by the time I was born, Abang Enal, was already in form 2. When I started school in 1971, he was already in Melaka studying at the Vocational Institute of MARA. I have vague memories of visiting him with my parents. Then, he was off to Japan, I don't know for how long, and then, he came back home with a beautiful Japanese girl in tow. I remember, she had picked the name Suzana as her Muslim/Malay name after she converted, and they got married. We all lived together with my late sister Aishah and her husband Abang Haris, and their two sons, Zulkifli (Zul) and Sallehuddin (Hud). The one memory I have of my Japanese sister in law, was; Abang Haris once bought one of those racing track toys with tiny motorcycle riders going around in a figure of eight, then up a conveyor belt...

One morning, at the outdoor agro mart (Pasar Tani) in Kampung Melayu Subang, a man approached the butcher stall and asked for a rib. The butcher’s assistant brought a few pieces from behind him and put them in front of the man, for him to choose. He held up one sizable one with a lot of meat on it and asked the assistant for the price. The assistant said RM30. The man put down the rib, looked into his wallet, and sighed. He asked the assistant which one he can get for RM15. The assistant looked behind him again and took a smaller rib with less meat on it. The man said he will take that rib, asked the assistant to cut it into smaller pieces. He walked off saying he will be back for the ribs, as he wanted to buy some other ingredients for the soup he was planning to make. A woman who was waiting for her order to be prepared, saw how sad the man was. She called to the assistant and told him to take and cut up the RM30 rib for the man and then she paid for it. I saw all this, too....

Today, on the first day of Ramadhan in the 52nd year of my life, while I was rummaging through some old stuff, I came across a letter written to me by my mother, folded and enveloped into a prescription drug package. My mother taught herself to write in Rumi, so some words are quite difficult to figure out. She was probably more comfortable writing in Jawi, but she knew her son is useless at reading it. The letter was not dated, but I would say it was written circa 1985, the year that I dropped out of UTM. The letter was an angry letter, as angry as my dearest mother would be. I cannot remember the occasion that warranted such letter, but I think I must have said something that hurt her. She wrote that I should have told her or father (unlikely) or my brothers and sisters that I am having difficulties in my studies. She wrote that I have ostracized myself from my family, and she understood that I did this because I do not want to be any more a burden to my parents and my sibli...

Not really keen on looking forward for 2016 I think 2015 was my most successful year in my entire life. Which I thought is sad considering I have been living for more than half a century on this earth. I don't really like celebrating new year, because on the first Monday after 1 January, you have to get back to work. And work is usually the same thing it was before you went on leave, either before Christmas or maybe just before the New Year's celebration. So, as far as I am concerned, a New Year is just adding one to whatever number it was that signified the last year. I do want to celebrate last year, though. These are 6 things that I thought were the good stuff that happened last year. Why 6? Well, 6 was all I could think of..... 1) My Dahlia - I struck out one major item on my bucket list: To publish a book. It wasn't very good. But, it prompted me to write a better one this year. So, that I think is good. 2) Venus and Jupiter - It was the most amazing thi...