the 2nd coming

like your brother, u come unassuming and un-announced. we'd thought we'd know ur game plan. we even try to change the rule a bit by choosing ur birthdate and timing but i guess God knows best and the best planner of all.

it was the night before u were born. we were ready for the planned adventure. weeks before we were having this little talk on how we can plan things up. that a little drip of fluid can help u decide to come out there and then. since ur already full term, well the early part of it, we'd go along. after all it would be easier and less risk compared to a emergency wailing across rush hour traffic jam of Kuala Lumpur. you're a Prince Court Medical Centre after all, right at the smack of KL rush hour centre. well maybe not in the middle but close enough.

where was i, son? oh yeah the agreeing. i must note that i didnt quite agree to it. it seems unnatural, trying to push u to decide to come out. u must make the decision. call me old school but the baby will chose when to introduce himself. but i'd go along, dragging my feet away.

there are advantages. we plan all day. and we even left ur big brother at TokBak and TokMak house. says goodbye, and choose our sweet time to travel. it was quiet the travel. this time the destination matters as well, but the journey as usual, matters too.

it rained quite heavily that night. that's one more similarities between ur birth and Danish, rain. i suppose a washing is what this world need to welcome u, son. i was having a bad migrain before we left. i think the both of us says our good bye with heavy heart. there is a slight thought, a quiver, a renegade feeling that this might be the last goodbye. but i shove it as soon as it started to spore. shove it far far away, buried deep beneath whats more important. focus. u and ur mother needs me. so go away all fears and misguided thoughts. focus.

and there we were in the Proton Persona car, the one with the burberry tea colour that was the family car, trodding along towards the inevitable. the night was clear i remember. it was dark, and there was no moon, but i remember thinking to myself how clear the air was. and there was many cars on the road. no jam though but many still. shouldn't the world stop for a while? shouldnt everything wait? the 2nd coming is near. we didnt talk so much. i remember smiling and trying to cheer up ur mother. this is the part where i hate. u see, son, its a place where i cant do much. because it will be between u and ur mother for the most part. when its time for u to wait for ur child, u will understand this agony of inability.

we were to check in into the ward. it was a nice room. even my bed was nice. the view was great as well. the plan was, that we'd get ur mother on the drip, and by the time the drip ended in the morning, u will be ready to come. but surprise surprise, like ur brother, the midwife check and sighed. much to my delight, she cant give ur mother the drip. it seems, that far from letting the world push u to a decision, u have decided.

and so we spent that night, the night before u were born at this hotel called PCMC. the food was great! but tht's another post altogether. and the view was to die for. this is how KLCC looks like after midnight, son.

all in all, ur coming was a lot calmer, and a lot faster than Danish. but ur mother being the warrior woman that she is, decline any epidural again. it was a bigger labor room. there's a LCD TV. the nurses were better, more experienced. and this time i didnt let u out of my sight. they did everything in the room. and they let me proclaim the Azan to ur ears before anything else. the good doctor did offer me to cut ur unbillical cords. i declined. because its not important. ur important. and it was all there is. u have cometh.

test

2nd baby pics

sons,

here are some early pics of baby no.2. yeah we knew its a boy in the month 4 visit to the doctor. it reveal itself on the monitor. and this doctor has this new app that apparently can differentiate the unbillical cord to stuffs that are not unbilical cord..

we await u, second son....

p/s: danish, i'll find and post ur early pics later

Adam@home

little caliph

i must confess. we didn't do much analysis or surveying on the various (and some dubious) kindergartens available these days, when danish turned 5 (u grown up so fast!). and they were a lot i tell u. there were the cheaper to free governmental ones, the still cheap taska which i presumed to do a little bit more than day-care, the not so govermental ones (ABIM, PASTI) with moderate fees, the typical english speaking ones and the english+Islamic ones. i went for the governmental ones when i was a year older than you, danish. there were no PERMATA progams then, i went for a TABIKA KEMAS which i think was what they prescribe us rural kids with farmer parents. dont know how much that cost, but i'm pretty sure its next to nothing. we used to call it sekolah makan. i dont know if they still calls them that these days.. i dont remember much of those times. just enough to to know that it happened. just a few still pictures in my memory, which i'm sure will conjure up more stories i poke it deeper, but enough about me.

The big brands with a chain of franchises across the countries are the names we often heard of. these are usually the english based programs that boast carefully thought syllabus by subject matter experts in early education. these are usually described in big words in brochures and websites, designed to assured parents and bring confidence to their expert delivery system while giving no useful details nor tangible goals. well not the one u can bring to court anyway. some of the known ones that has built a reputation for the themselves include Smart readers, C.E.C., R.E.A.L Kids, Q-Dees and then there are also the Islamic based ones Little caliph, Genius Aulad, a bunch of them carried the word Aulad although not linked between them.., . they come in a variety of concepts, all i'm sure with great intentions of nurturing young minds to the right path early on.

for you, we both agree that it would be best for a English+Islamic type with programs that would enrich the social and the academic side, spiritual and physical.  and we're determine to give it to you although i was shocked at the fee structure of the english speaking and english speaking+Islamic type of kindergardens,... it turns out those were the norm of the day @ RM240 bucks per month. your grandpa were equally shocked when we told him the price structure. he was silent at first, and then turn to your mother and says " awak punya ITM fee dulu pun tak sampai dua ratus empat puluh!"

but i'm getting ahead of myself. with our knowledge on kindies based on word of mouths, buntings, some tv adverts and flashy billboards of the few brand names we know of, and a more extensive internet browsing, we decided that we like genius aulad. partly its more established, and partly because they have raihan and that talkative boy from that Tom Tom Bak show as their public faces. and so we query some chatter over the net, found some good comments, and particularly no smear campaign. so far so good. so we went to check out the nearest available branch at Bandar Baru bangi Section 9. that's when things go downhill. the fact that the principal wasn't there  as we thought after a call a few days before, add a little bit more demerit to the fact that its facilities reminded me of tuition class on the 3rd level of a 3 level middle shoplot that has very steep stairs and definitely limited windows. how would a 5 year old develop his senses and build characther in a place as crammed as this? not to mention no outdoor area, or the safety aspect of running children down a steep stairwell only to find a busy street awaits them. that gave us a bad vibe, and so we moved on.

by word of mouth of the close people we know, we learnt this quaint little place that i ws told it give wonderful integrated Islamic education from kindie up to secondary school called Sri Ayesha. its relly just opposite of where we found genius aulad in bangi. slightly better locale, its still uses commercial shoplots as  its centre with dark brown color. though i understand later that the ground floor would house the kindies, it still didnt offer the safety that i would be comfortable with nor the greenery of field that i think would do u good. i suppose, although i'm pretty sure these schools are great, we could not get passed the situation of their facilities. we thought, we should do better for you. i suppose shoplots+early education just dont work in our minds. i guess other parents don't mind as much.

and then we stumble upon Litte Caliph. again another stone throw from genius aulad, but this time its in the semi-D housing behind the KeTTHA zero energy building in section 9. they used to called it Pusat Tenaga Malaysia, which are easier to remember than the new name, which i cant remember. if anyone wants to find it, its the only building then that have a green colored wind turbine for demonstration of wind power harnessing, which more than once i suspected were a gimmick and probably powered by an electric motor. but still it looks nice. hurray for the government.

being in a Semi-D housing, it held better prospect of safety; less cars on the housing lanes, and it is a gated with green compound within. our initial thin-slicing were quiet prospecting that we went to the open day that was held a few weeks later. in the meanwhile, we query more chatter over the net to seek any feedback on this little caliph programs. again no spear campaign. some quite remarkable compliments. it seemed it was started a local lady, a once lecturer who noticed that she cant quiet make the necessary changes over her students on some grave issues, that she decide to go to the age that she can make a difference. how's that for a movie plot!

the teachers there were pretty nice and give u the maternal feeling of care and patience, which is of the ultimate requirement to handle 4 to 6 year olds! the only drawback was it's a new branch, so the teachers might be new to the program itself. but we have a good feeling on it.. and so that was how, u went to Little Caliph.. u were quiet the champ, u didnt even cry in the first few days of school, unlike ur classmates!

although we have our concerns over its program, after a few weeks, we noticed good improvements. and hopefully more to come! more on this later..

the bleed

baby no. 2, it happened twice. the first time was when we didn't know you've arrived. that was our excuse. ur different than during danish time as far as i can remember.a little bit more drama, as the good doctor put it.

i thought that was it, it came because we were'nt aware of u and now that we do, everything will be well. and then the 2nd bleed came. it was just after we did a small family ghatering at our place, and as usual ur mother did more legwork than she should. all mothers are like that. we quickly went to the emergency room at Prince Court Medical Centre as the good doctor is taking care of 2 labouring patients and asks us to go to ER. i'd rolled with that. it irks me this emergency room when were there, i'd say PCMC is a 5 star hotel, and 3 star ER. 'nuff said.

danish while waiting at the ER

i truly hope the maternity ward is better. we went again to see the doctor a few days afterwards. actually we went to another doctor the day after the ER because they didn't even to bother to scan you there. it seems at month 5 the placenta is a bit downward when its supposed to be upward. scared ur mom to bits though the good doctor says not to worry, if it still doesnt moved upwards in a few more weeks, then u can worry. definitely more drama. i just want you to know although i prayed that all is well from here on, i'm up for all the drama God intended for us, all of it. all the way. so does ur mother. don't you shy away, now. please, God, don't.

whts in a name part ³

We named u arif, son. Well i wanted just arif and ahmad as the  first name but ur mother has other ideas. We must add in a third name, she  said. Its only fair cos danish have 3 part name. What? Yeah, me too. In the end we named you ahmad arif danial. All with good meaning. U can look it up when ur older if ur mother or i havent told you by then. It wasnt after anyone. We named you you because it was apt, it was you. And there u were, my boys; danish and arif. Brothers forever. I wish i live long enough to see both of you understand and appreciate one another.

apa ada pada nama? (a.k.a. what's in a name?) part 2

 what's in a name, son? a name can be nothing, as what it represent is what its all about. a name is something to call, to refer that of what it represent. and so it can be nothing more than just a tag. but it can be more just a tag. it can reflect the essence of what it represent and also in some counter intuitive way that defy science, it also 'directs' the essence or the substance that is an individual, giving it character and sometime a calling that is pseudo-genetic to the very core of the self that it becomes nature and purpose, awakening, directing every cell to be as what it is called upon to embrace, its name. that is the power of the name.

baby no.2

The news came in at a time I was drowsy and dead tired with work, in the middle of the work week. Ur mother left the quick birth test kit on the sink for me to find, as I woke up to do my Isya’ prayer. I was confused at first, because I thought ur mother was having a period a few days before, but as you will find out repeatedly on your own; mother’s always knows. And there it was, my second child, in the making. By that time, we have been trying for 6 months, I didn’t quite expect it then. I didn’t quite make it out at first, but it hit us later, that the bleeding that was thought to be period, was an indication of something that warrants immediate attention. Immediate enough that I was actually scolded by the gynie, when I brought ur mother to check her up. U see, by the time we found out, ur mother was actually 7 weeks pregnant. At 7 weeks, it’s a little bit late to find out. U see, because we didn’t know, ur mother didn’t do or rather behave like someone who has a child in her. In that 6 weeks, she’d done a lot of hard work, stuffs that she wouldn’t do, or at least I’ll prevent her from doing had we known earlier. And it was busy times with raya decoration and open houses and rearranging of furnitures and ramadhan before that and ur auntie’s wedding coming up. And because of that the uterus bleed. Well not the uterus, actually. It’s the wall behind the uterus. Its not serious enough that it can heal and recoverfrom, but serious enough to get me scolded and frowned upon. The good doctor told us that its not dangerous now, but if this were to be left without remedy, it can cause serious repercussion on the baby. We silently nodded and promise to behave like expecting parents again. Something which we hadn’t done for awhile now.

And so that was how our second child came. With a knack of surprises.

Children, although some of the past entries were addressed to you Danish, but I want both of you to know that I wrote for all my children. My messages and love and guidance transcend time and calamity are all for you. it just so happen that the past few entries were written when only Danish is around. Should there be a third child, the same will apply to her as well. I have though to re-write all that I have written in past entries again to reflect this, but decided against it. I know both of u will understand this.

And so baby no.2, we await you. of course u haven’t a name yet. As ur brother can tell u later on. Its taboo to name a baby that is yet to be born. But we eagerly await u. especially Danish. See u soon.

the boy and the starfishes

There’s this story that was told to me when I was at a very young age. It’s a usual children’s story, nothing spectacular or event that build up to a climax and only to be discovered as a red herring, which then quickly turns into a twisted anti-climax. No. none of that. And because it was told to me at a very young age, it did create an impact to me. Not immediately though. It’s one of those stories that grows on u. stories that planted a seed of a suggestion at the very back of ur mind, that would eventually flourished into an idea and become basis of a value system. An inception. Had I heard this at a later age of which my value framework has been set, I might not even remember, nor attribute much value to it, after hearing it.

Where was i? yes, the story. The story is called a boy and the starfish. There’s this old man who was on a vacation in a beautiful beach somewhere in South America. Some version of this story has it that the man was a professor or a writer just to make the antagonist and protagonist contrast to be more stark. And here is the elderly man walking to the beach on a fateful afternoon. It happen to be that day, there was a peculiarity in the weather, just a touch of Fahrenheit off, just a millionth of an angle of the moon is off, which in turn affects the ocean tides and movements. And the elderly man found on the beach literally thousands of starfishes stranded on the beach that stretches to the length of the beach as the tide has already moving back to the sea. You see, because of the weather anomaly, the starfishes has had the misfortune of not aligning to the ocean’s slightly tweaked schedule that particular day. And because of that, the thousands of starfishes are now stranded and helpless on the beach. And the old man knows, that as soon as the moisture is driven out from the starfishes and from sands they sat upon, they will all die away.  And this will happen well before the next tide comes in.

As he about to despair the fate of the thousands of starfishes on the beach that day, his eyes caught a glimpse at the far end of the beach, a boy. The boy seems to be picking up one star fish at a time and throwing back into the sea. The elderly man found this as strange. But the boy was working hard. The elderly man could not help to be inquisitive enough, that he walked to the very end of the beach to speak to the boy.

And he ask the boy, what are you doing, little boy?

The little boy replied, I’m saving the starfishes. If they stays here, they’re going to die.

The man smiled a bit and says, my boy, there’s thousands of starfishes here. u can’t save them all. Ur just but one boy. Surely, u can’t make a difference.

The boy didn’t looked up to the elderly man. Instead he continued to fling another starfish into the ocean and says, I’m making a difference with this one. He looked at the elderly man. Sir, if u go into the ocean right now and ask that starfish that I just flung, he’ll tell you otherwise and that I did make a difference with him! Would you think he would say otherwise?

And with that the elderly man was speechless.

The story ended there. What a climax.

there are problems in the world, son. There are some that we can handle on our own. Stuffs like running errands, getting stuffs for ur mom, forgetting keys or locking urself out of the house fixing up the broken air conditioning unit. Problems like these, I’m sure you will grow confident in tackling over them as u grow wiser into age. And by tackling I mean doing the right thing, or calling the right people to help you out.

And then there’s big problems, problems that may not touch you individually. Problems that happen outside of an individual or family. Problems that rooted well before ur time or the type that has promulgated into something that seems unfixable. Problems that u are aware off, but can easily be tuned off or  turn a blind eye, or shrug it off or change the tv channel, and move on to other things, or just plain ignore it. Problems like poverty, lack of education, bribery, prostitution, human trafficking, drugs, homelessness, orphans and orphanages, war, disasters man-made or otherwise, street crimes, runaway youths , baby dumping… yup, the world has a lot of those problems. And as the stranded starfishes, each and every one of them seems too big for one person to make a difference, too big that a lot of people like the elderly guy in the story only see futility in any effort made by an individual. Why bother, they say, or ur not solving the actual problem. Or u cant do this  Or that these people are part of a begging syndicate. Or they’re be back at the street in a week. U know, the excuses ppl use to justify their unwillingness to be involve, to help while trying to feel and impress upon you a sense of nobleness and wiseness. Pathetic.

I hope u wont give out such excuses, I would raise u better than that. I hope I would raise u to be that little boy on the beach. I hope u wouldn’t turn a blind eye when u can do something meaningful, and to make a difference and to not stop, just because a problem seems too big to handle. I hope that when the opportunity present itself to u, u won’t shirk the responsibility that has found its way to you. its easy to do that. And u can always do that any time, why do it now? From experience I can tell you that, everyone will do that, shrugging a problem away. Problems in the form of a needy child, or desperate someone. Some more than others. Some do it with a few bucks to rid off the guilt and quickly move away while others push and shout while other just ignore any plea like white noise. I don’t expect u to be perfect. But I do hope u can as much as u can be involved and touch another soul as often as u can. Because if u don’t, if anyone don’t, then why are we even here? and in all of these son, always follow ur instinct. No matter what the norm of the society or community is at that moment and place. Don’t give it a second thought, cos if u do, the moment will lapse, and there will only be regret.

When a problem presented itself, look beyond the obvious. Do not be the elderly man who only see futility in any attempt. Sometimes thinking big and the broader picture is not the way to go. Baby steps is a good option, helping just a small part or an individual at a time is better than not to help at all. Because as every starfish u help saved, be it a child or grown up, who can now read, or lived another day, or fed, or shelter, or a even a smile, or crossed the street, or shelter to the runaway teen, or to someone who benefitted a brief advice, or a simple chat, or the girl who benefitted from  the sex crime brochure, or burglaries that was prevented by a simple shone of a torchlight, an animal in distress, a granny with heavy groceries- will tell you and will tell u well that you’re your touch made a difference no matter how small the effort is, as long as its done with care and sincerity.

Open up ur mind when the problem seems to be unsolved. Never be the elderly man.

Never underestimate the power of an individual. While it is true that the biggest impact are that of a team that strive and synergise over a similar cause and build upon each other strength,  never forget that the individual made up of those teams. And if history can offer any proof, its always individuals that move nations, formed organizations that respond to them, and change everything. Again and again.

there’s a similar story found in the religion. Or should I say a comparable parable. It carries the same message and then some. While the starfish looked at the difference made to outside, this one looks to the change made internally. The story is when the prophet Abraham was sent to the fire by his people. A small bird, which I can’t recall what type now, was seen to be carrying water with its beak back and forth trying to put out the enormous fire. As it went by, the bird was asked, why oh why does it do what it did, when it knows that he alone can’t put out the fire with the water in beak method. The bird responded simply, there was a problem in front of him that he can not ignore. A problem he needs to do something to help. And the water in the beak is what he is capable of, and that what he will do repeatedly. When asked, doesn’t he know that his effort are insignificant? And futility is everything it is? That the enormous fire didn’t even flinched let alone quiver at the continuous water poured by its beak? And the bird responded, the journey matter more that the end, what matters is, when the calling is heard, the bird answered, and responded in the best effort he can. Because in the Final Analysis, when the bird is asked on the event, none can say he didn’t help, or that he just look on and proclaim the futility or despair of a bird that cannot put out the fire. And if a blame should be put to all that didn’t help the prophet, he will not be subjected to it, because it did what it can, contribute most of what he is able to. That he did make a different, even if its just to himself. And that the journey is what matters. 

apa ada pada nama? (a.k.a. what's in a name?) part 1

what's in a name, son? that question will be asked repeatedly, usually by one's self.. especially if there's no one around to give a good account on how a name, specifically how a person's name come about, usually around the time of birth. i suppose on a good account that how it was with me. u see ur grandpa from my side died when i was 6 years old, and so i didnt get a chance to ask him on my name or how different it was from the rest of the family let alone the state of melaka. u see, my name is common in the eastern state, but not not where i was, and so it adds to the usual out of place, a stranger feeling that all teenagers will feel. but enough about me.


like most parents, we talked about ur name, bought the same book of names as our parents probably did (and probably u will too), and as our parents, we did not decide on a name before u arrive. its taboo it seems to name a child before it was born lest it was heard by something of which leading it to come up of an idea to play mischief on the expecting parents or the unborn child. we're not a superstitious lot, ur mother and i, but we dont take any chances, not with u. and so for taboo stuffs that are not in violation of the religion and too weird- we'd go along with it just fine.


there was this trend where the baby name would be a combination of the parents name. thankfully, we dont think tht's a kewl thing to do because it would resulted in haphazard names.but we like to toy around the first letter of our names to be that of ur name, something to remind u of us. upon all the names in the book of names, danish impressed us most. the arabic meaning suit us well of what we though should represent who you are. and if u havent figured out by now, a name is a label, the gist of what it represent, which is you. plus its short, a popular name at that time, and it has a nice feeling when it is pronounced probably as it is also a pastry, and also another name for denmark.and country and places names are always nice. like Madina, Milan, Paris. well maybe not paris.


ahmad was a no brainer for ur first name. no son of mine will be without a muhammad or ahmad. i was taught better than that. and since that is also the first letter of ur mother's name, it take care of that first rule of our first letter to be urs. i like ahmad. aside from the benefit of naming after the Prophet, its almost ensure that ur name would be at least in the first few ppl in a list of names that are sorted alphabetically. and i can tell you that it will benefit you. from the first to sit in the front of classes to exams, to vaksin japs, to finding ur name in the photostate machine, the list just goes on and on...

and then we saw it. Nasrullah. apt it was for you. a few months ago, there was someone of a similar name in the news. a legend in those days, i hope he's still remembered in ur times. and he was in Palestine, and they were scared of him. and i think it will suit to have his name, and his spirit as a soldier of God in Allah's cause to be something we want you to have and be reminded constantly. it means Allah's help. not helper, as in little helper but Help. the Help. pronounce it like a whisper. this is ur name. this is you. danish will be what people call u. and Ahmad is following the Prophet tradition. but Nasrullah, the silent name will be who u are. a Godsend help. so never fear to help anyone or anything that is calling for God's help, for its what ur meant to be here for.


and then, there it is your name. and suddenly this baby, which we called baby at that time, now has a name. and everything that has a name belongs here. you're home.

About Nurin

u never met Nurin, son. neither did i. though i felt as if i knew her well. most malaysian felt that way too. because she is a child, and a child in the the comunity is the comunity's child. well at least its how it should be. during my younger times, if and whenever i did strayed a bit too far from the familiar laman and little that we called street, and passing the grown-ups over their   i hope i did know her. i hope none of the things tht hs happen to her did happened. i felt responsible. because if one of our children is taken away, the comunity is responsible. and thts why so many ppl cried reading about her tragedy; ppl cried when they saw about it on the telly; the imam cried when he was doing her solat mayat; ur grandparents cried; and to this day i bled in my heart each time i heard about her or similar unfortunate fate faced by other children. everytime her pictures is shown on the telly or paper. the happy face and the lifeless one. such a sweet child. such a tragedy to befall to an innocent child. the comunity felt sorry tht this ws allowed to happenned again; sorry tht they havent got hold of the bad guys who did this; sorry tht they couldnt protect their own children; i am sorry too. this was not the first of such tragedy. i fear it wont be the last. the comunity has become sick; and sickos do roam the streets. everyone was touched by this. i hope it wont be just a passing phase. the story everyone cared for a while before the next flavor of the month come along. a corrupt politician maybe or a movie star sex scandal, oh and we've put a man in space or sports. actions needs to be taken. otherwise it will happen again and our young ones; the very life and hope of the comunity will again be lost. i certainly wont forget. so if u hear anyone trying to shrug this issue off, or telling u tht putting a man in space is more important than providing the safe environment where our young one can roam free and safe, or failure to catch a d prosecute the bad guys who inflicts these terrible pain, grab them by the collar, son. and tell them, remember Nurin!



i didn't felt such sadness and anguish over the other tragedies tht has happenned before nurin. i read about them and denounce those acts of cruelty;- before focussing my attention to the next piece of news, and it didnt lingers in my head or felt the terrible-ness or the fear as if it was so near. as if it was watching. it felt as if distant. but not with Nurin. because when it happened, ur already born and in my care. and because of this i now posses an emphaty of a parent. it is a heavy load, the empathy of a parent. but i know no sane parent would ever let that load go, no matter how tough the going. and i almost can imagine life or what's left of it if it was u who were snatched away from my arms. it always an almost, as my subconsicious does not recognise nor could allow such scenario to be simulated. which led me to believe, that i will not survive if such event does occur.


i'm sorry tht i couldn't raise u in a better place and time. Its a fearful world out there. And i worry for u, from the day u were born, perhaps until the day tht i die.



******updated entry***



how long has it been? A year or two since nurin left. The media has moved on, so was the rest of the country. But not her family. Tht wud be just my guess, but if it were me, i wudnt budge at all. the world would have stopped spinning, and There were a footnote news about her recently. Not tht the perp was caught; nope he still around sumwhere. It ws about the policeman who leaked her autopsy pics. Some actions n suing. there were other children taken after her. one of them was XXXX. i always got confused between her and Nurin. not because they look alike, but they both were taken away. I still see her missing posters here n there, as if the hope tht she's alive n somewhere n the body wsnt her still lingers n remains a whisper. Anythng louder then a whisper will not be heard, sadly.



i still remember her. When ur older n understand this, i want u too to read about her n remember her, so that u understand how hard it is to raise a child in this seemingly cruel world. Because it will happen again. I hope they caught the perp in ur time. And if there are news of similar misfortune to happen to other children, i would like to be comforted to know tht i raised my children to be full of aphaty, responsibility and full of hope and tawakkal. N if u see such news being read by someone, and he hardly raised an eyebrow before tossing it to the side or switching the channel to a sitcom, go ahead son grab him n whisper, nothing louder than a whisper. Remember nurin!

how time passes by...

i seemed to faintly recall a few tidbits on time. perhaps some poems or excerpts of a grand writings that i have fancied long ago. about how time wins in the end. that no matter how carefull we are, nor how sturdy our cause, we're often strayed from the path and purpose; over some menial things or some grander things like life- and that in the end, we realise only too late; that time already win. in some instance time have probably make fools of us, but only to have ourselves to blame for time wasted or wisely spent on other things. and this realisation or effifany (i never know how to spell this word) can come in a bang, as if time shook u by the collar of your complacency...

and here we are...

after 3 years after the first post, nothing. not even a picture of u, son. but this realisation of this dream of having a legacy of notes and memoirs and stuffs i want u to know, stuffs i hope would guide u in your world long after i am gone in the hope that some relavancy still prevails; this did not come in a bang. instead this blog has been on my mind constantly.. and yet, there's always an excuse not to post the next post. its imperfect yet, its unpolished, the network down, the firewall prevents it, no broadband here, the work, the life, the actual you.. and the list goes on and on...

until today.
i figure perfections will come later, if need be. and i dont think it's needed much anyway. perfections is over-rated, son. i showed ur mother the first post after three years. she wept a little, reading on my take of how u spend the first day of your life.. and asked why hadn't i showed her this before. and now she's the force to keep this blog going. and going it will do.

i know, son. this need discipline. that would what i told you. and i will do just that. i'm determine to do this knowing now what i know of inevitable things that will come to pass. more than ever.

so here we go again..

satellite feeds

By the time u understand how the digital world works, and that how codes based on simple binary system could keep representation of life and the real world forever, well theoritically, i know u would start to enquire this. but understand this first. no matter how much the representation resembles the life, there is nothing more important than life itself. and so, whatever u will be end up doing, or things that u will be developing, never lose this essence so that u wont be too lost even if u do lost your way, life takes priority. this piece of wisdom is brought to you by Isaac Asimov through his works in I, Robot. the book, not the movie.

and oh, yeah here's some of your earliest picture post-birth. possible an hour or so-enough time for the nurses to clean u up, for me to recite the azan to your ear, while holding u Lion King style, enough time for the good doctor to fix ur mother up and brought her to her room. when all of the important things are done, and evrything is stable and resting and food has been eaten, then i rushed to the babies room to snaps some pictures of you, through a glass window. wouldnt want u and your fellow just-born collegues to be friendly yet with germs.

this was when i was using that retched iPaq as a sorry excuse for a smartphone. u see this was the time when HP just merged (bought?) with Compaq. the quality wasnt good, but its all i have to snaps pictures of you. and snaps i did. the hospital wrapped you around with tigger and pooh motives on a yellow landscape blanket, which i thought they're giving it to each newborn. which was a wrong assumption, i found out a little while later. :)

lousy camera that iPaq. no shutter speed priority, no aperture setting, no manual focus, not even a decent LED flash. but these pictures are priceless. a treasure i would carry on forever. the ones taken by the phone camera. and definitely the one taken by my eyes and memory..

Rainy day

it was a rainy day when u came. when it all started. really heavy rain. i didn't noticed right away- your mother didn't at all. it was when i was coming and going between rooms to the general area, sorting things our for your mother, calling relatives, getting a single bedded room, payments etc that i noticed trough a small window at the end of a long corridor and thought oh how heavy the rain it was outside. so heavy that the anheastologist was stuck in a jam outside, and that your mother's gynaecologist had called him up and told him not to bother.. because you're on your way out. fast. and that's how the world greeted you, son. With gushing winds, and heavy rains pouring down to wash away itself for your arrival but no storm, no thunder, just deafening white noise to silence the rest of the maddening world... waiting patiently for you to break the silence.

we didn't expected you that weekend son, that was actually the first day that we put the in-case-of-now-emergency bag in the car. and off we go to see the good doctor for your mother weekly check-up, with plans to go to alamanda afterwards, only to be told, that we're not going anywhere soon, because sit tight, you're getting out. we didn't even had time to get lunch. and ur mother didn't even see the room that i booked, because they put her straight to the operation room. she's already 7 cm, they said. you'd understand when you're older with a wife in labor, son.

and so there she was, your mother in labor pain, with no epidural, pushing and pushing you out. the nurses tried to keep me out of the operation room, to no avail of course. we won't be going to that hospital next time, not with tht attitude. ur mother was in pain, and sleepy at the same time, the result from the happy gas she took from time to time. with a few thrust - well a lot actually, you're out, and the nice lady doctor greeted you with a salam and presented you to us, like a wonderful birthday present, lo behold, 'tis be thee child! a first born male! of course she's Malay and don't speak ancient English, but she did make it a point to prove that ur a boy, and that her scanning machine was ehem, indeed correct. as if we were unbelievers of technology.

and that was it. you've arrrived, and it's me and your mother eagerly welocming you. our bundle of joy, our firstborn. the nurses cleaned you up, did some measurements and wrapped you before handing you to me so that i may held you up and deliver an azan and an iqamah to your fragile ears- so that within these first few moments of your arrival, that you hear first your calling. and you stopped crying and paid attention to the words. and as soon as the doctor done with ur mother, we placed you at her bosom, and to our amazement you start to sucle on your own. what a clever child you are, son.

i could go on and on about your birth. everything is as fresh as it was yesterday in my mind. but i'll save some for later and end this now. enough for an introduction, a breaking of ice. and no, i didnt understand it either why they call it breaking the ice. but as soon you will learn, sometimes you just need to follow along with the world, and focus on the really important stuffs. after all we have a whole lifetime to do just that. our journey had just begun on one rainy afternoon, and oh did i mention it was a day before your first Ramadhan, the moment you start to cry, a few seconds after the bright light of the operating theather hits you - and it was the most beutiful tune we ever heard. but it wasn't one f those evergreen ones, it fall out of the chart after a few days. and the adventure begins, so here we go, son.