first it was the thinning of the protective ozone layer. global warming. the melting of the ice caps. greenhouse effect due to excessive carbon emission (by them). ecological footprint.
then it was the mayan calender and 21.12.2012. and doom preppers galore.
the expansion of the universe which has no borders? the extension of infinity?
but they are just theory makers. nothing more. theories are just that. theories.
come to think of it. was it all for the sake of their economic opportunities?
now the earth is experiencing cold weather spells. even at the tropics. contrary to predictions of the theory makers.
they must re-learn to acknowledge The All Mighty.
anyone realised that the great Muslim scientists of yore never used their expertise in the various scientific fields to create weapons of destruction?
that's one good difference. compared to the atheist theory makers.
Thursday, 30 January 2014
Wednesday, 29 January 2014
mango salad
she had a crush on mango salad. or mixed salad with shreds of young mango, papaya, cucumber, carrot, slices of tomato, shrimps, lemon juice, fish sauce etc. etc.
she bought this 'delicacy' at the night market. every week. at the same stall. till she realised that she had been frequenting that very stall 'week in and week out'. the proprietor must have been only too aware of the fact.
ah the tangy freshness. and
crisp veggy...... lingering tantalisingly on her taste buds....
she bought this 'delicacy' at the night market. every week. at the same stall. till she realised that she had been frequenting that very stall 'week in and week out'. the proprietor must have been only too aware of the fact.
ah the tangy freshness. and
in the name of modernisation
she watched a documentary on one of the last bastions against the unending colonisation of the west.
a sovereign nation in south east asia where the men are still wearing the sarong.
but....
now the youth (of the celebrated so called y generation) are speaking in heavily accented american english, dressed in the worldwide accepted attire of t-shirts and blue jeans, jamming in .throes of imported rock music.... proud to be called free and modern.
soon the world will be homogeneous. culture, architecture, politic, education, economy, all will be entirely similar. the world becomes a borderless entity. cities of the world are now filled with almost similar high rises, transportation, infrastructure. similarly attired people. similar dwellings. similar food. especially fast food. burgers, pizzas in every nook and corner on earth.
what makes her chuckle, even public buildings have almost the same names the world over. ny times square. berjaya times square in her country. and other times square in other major cities of the world. etc. etc.
when london had a london eye, other countries rushed to have similar structures with nearly the same names.
soon there will be no need to travel to see new places as the earth will be monotonously the same everywhere.....
a sovereign nation in south east asia where the men are still wearing the sarong.
but....
now the youth (of the celebrated so called y generation) are speaking in heavily accented american english, dressed in the worldwide accepted attire of t-shirts and blue jeans, jamming in .throes of imported rock music.... proud to be called free and modern.
soon the world will be homogeneous. culture, architecture, politic, education, economy, all will be entirely similar. the world becomes a borderless entity. cities of the world are now filled with almost similar high rises, transportation, infrastructure. similarly attired people. similar dwellings. similar food. especially fast food. burgers, pizzas in every nook and corner on earth.
what makes her chuckle, even public buildings have almost the same names the world over. ny times square. berjaya times square in her country. and other times square in other major cities of the world. etc. etc.
when london had a london eye, other countries rushed to have similar structures with nearly the same names.
soon there will be no need to travel to see new places as the earth will be monotonously the same everywhere.....
Tuesday, 28 January 2014
the choices one make
when she was in her teens and was first aware of love, she used to pray for a good man to be her partner in life. religious, understanding, kind, romantic, poetic. too perfect perhaps.
but then youth is idealistic.
then the star came into her life. tall,dark and handsome as in the barbara cartland novels young girls of her era loved to read.
more important he was gentle, soft spoken, responsible (a head prefect too at that), read a lot, liked to send her poems, spoke and wrote in perfect english.....
but she was the irrational kind. she couldn't see the gem, the diamond, the star.....
then a person from a technical background came. would have been perfect for her. he was in civil engineering. she would soon take up architecture. they would understand each other's field. they would complement each other.
he was also gentle, kind, generous, responsible.
she loved him as much as he loved her. they were writing to each other at the rate of once every 3 or 4 days. till the postman was tired. they were both nineteen. they were designing their future castle....
then once again she took a wrong turning.
she left him stunned at the cross-roads while she ran foolishly into unknown territory.
in the end she chose someone completely opposite to her. from a field as far from architecture as could be. and she went down the long road of perdition.....
now she saw that her prayers were answered by The All Mighty. she was given the star and the engineer. she could just have chosen one of them. both had the qualities she yearned for.
but she turned away from them. due to sheer foolishness.
what silly choices she made.....
but then youth is idealistic.
then the star came into her life. tall,dark and handsome as in the barbara cartland novels young girls of her era loved to read.
more important he was gentle, soft spoken, responsible (a head prefect too at that), read a lot, liked to send her poems, spoke and wrote in perfect english.....
but she was the irrational kind. she couldn't see the gem, the diamond, the star.....
then a person from a technical background came. would have been perfect for her. he was in civil engineering. she would soon take up architecture. they would understand each other's field. they would complement each other.
he was also gentle, kind, generous, responsible.
she loved him as much as he loved her. they were writing to each other at the rate of once every 3 or 4 days. till the postman was tired. they were both nineteen. they were designing their future castle....
then once again she took a wrong turning.
she left him stunned at the cross-roads while she ran foolishly into unknown territory.
in the end she chose someone completely opposite to her. from a field as far from architecture as could be. and she went down the long road of perdition.....
now she saw that her prayers were answered by The All Mighty. she was given the star and the engineer. she could just have chosen one of them. both had the qualities she yearned for.
but she turned away from them. due to sheer foolishness.
what silly choices she made.....
Monday, 27 January 2014
trip down memory lane
she accompanied lily to ipoh last saturday.
after having delicious nasi beriani, grilled chicken, gado-gado and masak lemak cili padi nangka at lily's varsity room mate's wedding, they went 'gallivanting' around the quaint town.
rows upon rows of pre-war shop houses, many almost crumbling down.
not all old buildings have the significance to be awarded the 'heritage' value.
she posed before the imposing railway station. lily was amazed at the 'majesty' of the building.
she then started telling lily about her memories of ipoh, the railway station and.....starry-starry nite....
they say old flames die hard.
well, it was actually just the start to an attraction. two young gullible hearts met all of a sudden. something rekindled. the feelings were mutual.
she was young, silly, romantic and plain. he was dashing, poetic, tall and good looking.
both were in boarding schools.
he sent her poems. she swooned. his perfect english captivated her imagination.
after her a-levels, on her way home from school, they met at the kl railway station. in those days she travelled by train from her home up north to her school just a little south of the capital city, at town s on merbah hill..
they walked to a tea house. she had a fresh orange. he had hot tea. that was the first and last time they went out together. it must have been a starry nite....
she never had a boyfriend before. she was too much a wall flower. she didn't know what he saw in her.
she recalled too that nite at the ipoh railway station. in 1976. wow so very long ago...
she was returning to school after the term holidays. he said he'd wait at the railway station to see her. the train stopped at ipoh station at about 1 am. then she had the jitters. she saw him looking through the train windows for her.
but she hid from view. they did not meet. he wrote to her the next day telling how he returned to his hostel in the rain. he had a cold too...
in retrospect she saw the gentleness in him. ever the gentleman. sweet natured. artistic. qualities which she were looking for.
but the silly streak in her clouded her vision.
now the little episode remains a sparkling star in her tapestry of memories.....
again,
i saw a star
i should have reached for it
i didn't
so i only have the sky....
after having delicious nasi beriani, grilled chicken, gado-gado and masak lemak cili padi nangka at lily's varsity room mate's wedding, they went 'gallivanting' around the quaint town.
rows upon rows of pre-war shop houses, many almost crumbling down.
not all old buildings have the significance to be awarded the 'heritage' value.
she posed before the imposing railway station. lily was amazed at the 'majesty' of the building.
she then started telling lily about her memories of ipoh, the railway station and.....starry-starry nite....
they say old flames die hard.
well, it was actually just the start to an attraction. two young gullible hearts met all of a sudden. something rekindled. the feelings were mutual.
she was young, silly, romantic and plain. he was dashing, poetic, tall and good looking.
both were in boarding schools.
he sent her poems. she swooned. his perfect english captivated her imagination.
after her a-levels, on her way home from school, they met at the kl railway station. in those days she travelled by train from her home up north to her school just a little south of the capital city, at town s on merbah hill..
they walked to a tea house. she had a fresh orange. he had hot tea. that was the first and last time they went out together. it must have been a starry nite....
she never had a boyfriend before. she was too much a wall flower. she didn't know what he saw in her.
she recalled too that nite at the ipoh railway station. in 1976. wow so very long ago...
she was returning to school after the term holidays. he said he'd wait at the railway station to see her. the train stopped at ipoh station at about 1 am. then she had the jitters. she saw him looking through the train windows for her.
but she hid from view. they did not meet. he wrote to her the next day telling how he returned to his hostel in the rain. he had a cold too...
in retrospect she saw the gentleness in him. ever the gentleman. sweet natured. artistic. qualities which she were looking for.
but the silly streak in her clouded her vision.
now the little episode remains a sparkling star in her tapestry of memories.....
again,
i saw a star
i should have reached for it
i didn't
so i only have the sky....
Tuesday, 7 January 2014
the wind in the willows
dusk was settling gently all around her.
the half light was yellowish on sleepy green leaves. then it turned quaint sepia. the two bunnies were snuggling against her toes.
a gossamer of tranquility touched patient housetops all in a row. little groups of sparrows noiselessly flew homewards.
then a gust of wind rustled through the trees, the branches of leaves.
creating a song .... faint yet true .... restless notes .... hurrying ....
where does the wind go?
the half light was yellowish on sleepy green leaves. then it turned quaint sepia. the two bunnies were snuggling against her toes.
a gossamer of tranquility touched patient housetops all in a row. little groups of sparrows noiselessly flew homewards.
then a gust of wind rustled through the trees, the branches of leaves.
creating a song .... faint yet true .... restless notes .... hurrying ....
where does the wind go?
of travelling
she read of a Muslim Malay family who returned from the uk overland this morning.
Subhanallah. the beautiful experience. how Solat Hajats and Doas helped them along the way. and the blessings from Yang Maha Esa. the ultimate.
this family is surely very aware of the beauty and the priceless significance of such a journey. what benefits to the children. what enormous opportunities of gaining so much information.
what nectar to the soul.
she used to dream of backpacking through malaysia, asia and europe once. it would have been utopian if it had come true....
that is why she loves travel documentaries so much. she loves to 'see' the different lands, the countless countries big and small some even unknown to most on earth. to touch the different textures of life, culture, hopes and dreams. to feel the different air in far away places, the exotic smells., the ethereal fragrances, the rustling of winds through foreign trees and leaves. to hear strange unfamiliar sounds...
to savour the beauty of the world in all its diversities....
she remembers the ramblings through villages off the beaten tracks with her kids years ago.... it was food for the mind, fodder for imagination.... she hopes her children's horizons are enhanced, enlightened, free from the shackles of small minds... rising above inconsequential, mundane irritants...
touch a bud and it opens to so much joy.....
Subhanallah. the beautiful experience. how Solat Hajats and Doas helped them along the way. and the blessings from Yang Maha Esa. the ultimate.
this family is surely very aware of the beauty and the priceless significance of such a journey. what benefits to the children. what enormous opportunities of gaining so much information.
what nectar to the soul.
she used to dream of backpacking through malaysia, asia and europe once. it would have been utopian if it had come true....
that is why she loves travel documentaries so much. she loves to 'see' the different lands, the countless countries big and small some even unknown to most on earth. to touch the different textures of life, culture, hopes and dreams. to feel the different air in far away places, the exotic smells., the ethereal fragrances, the rustling of winds through foreign trees and leaves. to hear strange unfamiliar sounds...
to savour the beauty of the world in all its diversities....
she remembers the ramblings through villages off the beaten tracks with her kids years ago.... it was food for the mind, fodder for imagination.... she hopes her children's horizons are enhanced, enlightened, free from the shackles of small minds... rising above inconsequential, mundane irritants...
touch a bud and it opens to so much joy.....
Monday, 6 January 2014
of camels
the arabian camel has a single hump on its back.
the bactrian camel in the deserts of china has two humps.
she loves fresh camel milk. she first drank it in the year 2000 when she went for the Hajj in Mekah. she never knew fresh milk could taste so good.
when she took all her five kids for the Umrah in 2012, she made them drink it too. and they also loved it.
by the way the ice cream in Mekah is most delicious. mango flavor is best. whenever she is in the Holy City, she'd eat ice cream everyday.
thinking of Makkatul Mukarramah makes her long to be there again.... the most beautiful, peaceful, enchanting place on earth....
the bactrian camel in the deserts of china has two humps.
she loves fresh camel milk. she first drank it in the year 2000 when she went for the Hajj in Mekah. she never knew fresh milk could taste so good.
when she took all her five kids for the Umrah in 2012, she made them drink it too. and they also loved it.
by the way the ice cream in Mekah is most delicious. mango flavor is best. whenever she is in the Holy City, she'd eat ice cream everyday.
thinking of Makkatul Mukarramah makes her long to be there again.... the most beautiful, peaceful, enchanting place on earth....
of dolphins and camels
they have such beautiful smiles, the dolphins and the camels.
the dolphins, playful, often friendly and accommodating. they look happy.
the camels, patient, reserved, obedient, resilient.
what good teachers they would make. what role models.
she has many weaknesses. many faults. she made many mistakes. many wrong decisions. perhaps that was why she loved sci-fi stories, time machines etc.
to rectify the wrong things she had done. the wrong choices she made. the wrong turns she took.
but vibrations of the past lingered in the space around her. in the molecules, the atoms, the electrons, photons, waves.....
she wish she could borrow the strength and perseverance of the camels. the non-chalant cheerfulness of the dolphins.
ah well, fools rush in where angels fear to tread...
the dolphins, playful, often friendly and accommodating. they look happy.
the camels, patient, reserved, obedient, resilient.
what good teachers they would make. what role models.
she has many weaknesses. many faults. she made many mistakes. many wrong decisions. perhaps that was why she loved sci-fi stories, time machines etc.
to rectify the wrong things she had done. the wrong choices she made. the wrong turns she took.
but vibrations of the past lingered in the space around her. in the molecules, the atoms, the electrons, photons, waves.....
she wish she could borrow the strength and perseverance of the camels. the non-chalant cheerfulness of the dolphins.
ah well, fools rush in where angels fear to tread...
the colors of the wind
she once read a story about a girl who listened to voices from the mountains.
and how a poor boy tried to catch a bowl of mist.
she loved to imagine how jane eyre looked fondly over the green rolling meadows from her secluded bower in the garden, in the beautiful light of the gloaming.
she herself used to sit for hours in the mellow evenings of the late 70s, looking at the splendour of the skies, the beckoning hills, the friendly green trees, the colorful rustic village ....
and those calm bewitching twilights by the fence on merbah hill...looking down into the valley...hoping for a glance.... a brief second of chance encounter... it was a teenage girl's secret dream...
she stood at the edge of time. she walked away when the star was within her grasp.
now she reaps the colors of the wind...
and how a poor boy tried to catch a bowl of mist.
she loved to imagine how jane eyre looked fondly over the green rolling meadows from her secluded bower in the garden, in the beautiful light of the gloaming.
she herself used to sit for hours in the mellow evenings of the late 70s, looking at the splendour of the skies, the beckoning hills, the friendly green trees, the colorful rustic village ....
and those calm bewitching twilights by the fence on merbah hill...looking down into the valley...hoping for a glance.... a brief second of chance encounter... it was a teenage girl's secret dream...
she stood at the edge of time. she walked away when the star was within her grasp.
now she reaps the colors of the wind...
aurora boreallis
you can't capture the sunshine
you can't stop the rain....
she was enraptured. her eyes were mesmerised. Subhanallah.
the northern lights filled up the zenith. the brightest greens. the most enchanting magenta. and all hues between. they literally danced. trilling. arching the skies.
as a lilting melody.
even though it was through the screen they brought so much beauty. to her.
you filled up my senses
like a nite in the forest
like the mountains in springtime
like a walk in the rain
like a storm in a desert
like a sleepy blue ocean....
you can't stop the rain....
she was enraptured. her eyes were mesmerised. Subhanallah.
the northern lights filled up the zenith. the brightest greens. the most enchanting magenta. and all hues between. they literally danced. trilling. arching the skies.
as a lilting melody.
even though it was through the screen they brought so much beauty. to her.
you filled up my senses
like a nite in the forest
like the mountains in springtime
like a walk in the rain
like a storm in a desert
like a sleepy blue ocean....
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