you are what you think out loud

A rugged looking gentlemen in his 60-s came for a visit yesterday.
A former army, made bankrupt.
As I came in the discussion room, he spread out some Land title, documents, a statutory declaration and a stack of Bankruptcy Act.

"I want to transfer this piece of Land to my son, but I need your no-objection letter. I've already drafted them for you, all you need to do is just sign".

Amboi. Aku ke dia yang lawyer. 
But I listened on, because this guy, was on a roll. He just wouldn't stop and I was too amazed by his tenacity (maybe a bit too polite to intererrupt an old man)

"I've been made a bankrupt 15 years ago. But when I wanted to pay the judgment sum to the Bank (who made me bankrupt, and you're representing them), the Bank refused to accept the money and asked me to pay it to the Official Assignee. There, as you can see, the transcript of proof of payment to the Assignee".

He stuck out one bank slip with a handwritten recipient Pemegang Harta.

"The Land Office told me that I could only transfer the land to my son if you have no objection. But the debt had already been paid to the Insolvency, I banked it in, and I don't know why I'm not discharged from bankruptcy. the money just got stuck there and I'm still a bankrupt. So its a chicken and egg situation. I go Land Office reject, I go Bank also kena reject. So today I go to you"

This is what you get, when you think you're smart to skip a process.
"But you didn't go to one place. "

He knew what the place is "Oh you mean the Insolvency department? ""

I told him " I think I can understand why someone tends to skip that procedure, which he thinks he can make do by doing something else. Like you, you think it all can be settled if the money is paid. But you knew you needed to see the Assignee, lay out all the financial matters with them, and then all that can follow through. Without their recommendation, even if you paid into their account double, means nothing"

His short reply to this "I knew I should see a lawyer first!"

 "Its painful to be thoroughly examined in and out, who likes to be checked for their ability and weaknesses, being probed for every personal matter, what you do in your pasttime, what you do for a living?. But, if it must be done to correct past mistake, you should let it be"

And then he let out a big laugh "now you're talking like a philosopher!"

Then, it came. the big realisation: I was actually, talking to myself.

That much I know is true. For instance: Sometimes during sessions with hawariyyun, I dreaded when its time to read Quranic recitation. I concede that my tajweed is not at par, but I still haven't done much improvement and could only cry when husband corrects me when I read. Hua hua. Lemahnya iman...

ps the old man went back from my firm, singing. Oh boy

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2.5 hours

Sometimes technology just abandons me, I am today's woman who starts her day with a screaming child, over milk.
My kids, my alarm clock.

Barely opening my eyes, usually the Boy will offer his help to scoop out his chocolate milk powder.
'Ibu, Abang nak tolong boleh?".

Yea, and hoping that cooperative atittude lingers until adulthood, every mother's dream.

And then the fajar prayers, while the Boy sipping his milk, looking at me, still barely awake.

But what happens next is a mixture of liquid fast action -laundry-slicing vegetables and meat-porridge for the Girl-dishwashing-blending the Girl's porridge-bathing the Boy-packing the kids' nursery bags-shower for me and the kids-delicate skincaring for the Girl-and still finding time to play Ultraman with the Boy.
All before 9 am

The usual get ups for mothers. But then you'll realise
Yup. No breakfast and no morning exercise.
Self neglect is a sin, and my body is trembling in rebellion.

I have now, sore aching knees.
Still barely 30.
But suddenly awake.

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lost and found

This post this time, I think would be very personal.

I have actually considered, before writing this time, to actually delete all my previous posts in this blog and start anew. I keep on thinking, hey wait, did I just say that?  Who was I?
Ohmy if embarassment has a daughter, it'll probably nickname her me.

But I digress.
Since I'm (a slow) working progress, I'll cling on my old posts and let me be embarassed by how foolish I was when I was younger, but never ashamed of I was to delete the pre-made up Afzan.
So let it be.

Ergo, I write.
Personal encounters these past week had a sudden bang on me, so much contained the cacophany must be written or else I'll just let it rot in my non active brain.

Exh. 1
The joy of being found.
Of course, you must be lost first before you could actually appreciate being found.
But what if, the rescue you're hoping for is just not what you expected to be?

Its just a lifeboat handing out lifevest in the midst of deep ocean. Sink and swim, you must.
And forget about waiting for anymore help.
There is no use about being bitter for those external help if you yourself refuse to do so for your ownself.

Exh. 2

I always thought that life would be more interesting, more lively if you have a passion.
I don't understand why people knit for their sake, but I envy their determination to knit a sweater with the cute squinting eyes and the hidden annoyance of the recipient of the knitted sweater.

But what if the reason of the passion died?
(Surely you tell me there could always exist a passion without any cause. But I doubt it.)
The passion, the hobby, the obsession could wither away.

And I thought, what's mine?
I've so long let it die that I couldn't remember what was it that I love doing most.

I remember writing. Lots of journal. Of fiery passion.
And doodling. Drawing. Of course, with fiery passion.
Art.
Reading.

And none of those are with me now.
Too bad.

If I could reflect why I did what I do, it must've been from all those teenage years, venting out to the canvas, being angry to something, I could actually say now I have lost the energy to (being angry) care, hence their disappearence.

Happier but boring-er.
I have lost that part of me, but at least I know what I've lost.

And that's one reason of joy :)

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Woolwich

I think I am now washing my hands clean out of the GE13 blackout aftermath.

Its too noisy, the cacophony dampens the spirit of democracy. Or mine. Lol.
The people have spoken, and nobody like cheaters as well as sore losers, but life must go on.

If you have to ask me, do what you must, but do your work.
People can see underneath all the shenanigans and bad ad campaigning, the worth of your honest work.

I'll vote for clean city, meaningful education (free or not does not matter to me) accountable records, approachable statesmen and yes, welfare based community that provides for both security and safety.

Woolwich.
That's what got me into writing.

Two madmen went beserk and murdered a man on the street, while declaring political and (sadly) religion (Islamic) motives. You can just google it, it'll tell you the details of how witnesses came by and sheltered the body while  stopping the murderers from rampaging on. Makes you feel diehard series feel comical. Go, google.

What strikes me, is ofcourse the backlash on Muslim community.
The name and blame game. The anger. Finger pointing.
Remember when there was a caricature mocking Rasullullah?

Yes, in that same spirit, in the same line I wish I can make a point to say this:
I simply feel that our reaction to things like this, should be measured.



(Says the fiery tempered lady) --->t; guilty, but when its done in masses, it could be seen as a united voice.

Personally I've had enough of convincing people that Islam does not condone violence, and lets not forget the bigotry of biased prevailance when its done by a nonmuslim its deemed as psychatric based personal problem but when its done by Muslims, its terrorism all the way.

But what could I say when muslims' reaction to these incidents had been frightening at the same time.
(The same fiery angry people who does nothing say when people insulting te Prophet everyday by not following his daily sunnatic traditions. Same difference.)

I dunno.
I wish everyone, including myself, can see how lucky we are to have Prophet Muhammad as our leading example: Him having grace under preasure.

Grace under pressure.
The very moment your head goes pop!
Can you smile, and offer a hand at your brother?

Maybe not, but can't we stop shouting and inciting hate?
I think we can.

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