Heartbreaker

Why do you have to be a heartbreaker
Is it a lesson that I never knew...

The two lines above are part of the lyrics of a 1982 hit song by Dionne Warwick. It was one of my favourite songs during those struggling days studying for a degree. I remember it particularly well, not because I've been through any heartbreaking experience or the like, but rather for the fast catchy tune and the lovely voice of the singer.

A number of years later, I heard the word `heartbreaker' mentioned by a friend in a casual conversation and yesterday, I was reminded of that occasion again.

I married my wife in November 1988. She hails from the town of Mersing on the east coast of Johor. A few of my bachelor friends accompanied me for the wedding ceremony and we stayed at the house of the bride's elder sister (my sister-in-law to be, at that time). We were introduced to the sister's family that included three children, two girls and a boy, who would officially be my nieces and nephew by the next day.

At the time, the youngest daughter was around kindergarten age and was understandably shy to greet us. She was very sweet and pretty, and all my friends were smitten by her looks. One of them softly spoke to me to say, `You have a lovely niece... when she grows up, she's going to be a heartbreaker.'

Over the years, I've watched the girl grow into a very beautiful young lady and see that the prediction of my friend come true... a few times over. This is the same person who is the subject of my earlier post -> The last person to know.

The young lady's parents was at our house yesterday and my sister-in-law took the chance to tell me and my wife on the latest situation about her daughter. She also revealed the events that followed after the day the daughter brought home her Chinese boyfriend. Towards the end of her narration, my sister-in-law broke down in tears... if I do come across my niece in KL, she says, please do look out for her and give her advice.

Well, young lady... I doubt there is much more that I can add to what I'm sure has already been said by your mom. You have already been granted what you wish for, and no doubt you know the huge challenges that you face ahead.

Perhaps if there is one advice that I can give, it is this : work hard to do things that will heal your mother's broken heart. It is not enough to say or promise that you'll do your best. You have to show the effort and commitment. Sure, it will take time, a long time... but it is not something that is impossible. And we are here to support you if you need it.

Just remember, a mother's affection for her child and her capacity for forgiveness is boundless. Her blessings and prayers for us are something that we don't want to do without.

Faster than CNN

In an earlier post in late February this year, I wrote about the updates posted by my nieces who are connected to me in Facebook, and about how I try to keep such news as private as possible. Even to the extent of feigning surprise when my wife tells me something that I'd already read online, as if I am the last person to know.

Well, today I reversed the process... and the effect is exactly as what I expected.

It is one of my niece's birthday today (Sunday 25 April 2010) and I dropped by her FB profile to post a birthday message on her wall. While there, I spotted an exchange of messages between my niece and some of her friends (or possibly, staff) about the rumour of a job transfer to Sabah. I later mentioned to my wife that it is the niece's special day today, and that she may want to send a congratulatory sms to the birthday girl. I also casually mentioned that the young lady may be re-posted to Sabah.

My wife was surprised and immediately texted the girl's mother. The girl's mother was doubly surprised when she texted back that she didn't know anything about this. My wife shot a look at me and asked how I know something even the girl's mother doesn't know. Well, maybe daughters don't tell their mothers everything, I said.

No... can't be! Not this niece, says the wife, with a firm shake of the head. So, go ask the young lady herself, I said.

A quick flurry of sms exchanges took place between aunt, niece and niece's mother. Finally the young lady clarified that the news of the job transfer is just office gossip... I can almost hear the sigh of relief from the mother (apparently she doesn't want the daughter to work too far away).

To my lovely niece Aliah... sorry if this old uncle of yours caused you a bit of bother by forwarding a piece of unconfirmed news. But if you do actually get that transfer, don't decline... grab the chance for a new working experience. At least then, we can find a strong reason to travel to Sabah, a place that we've been longing to go to.

By the way, Happy Birthday (yang ke berapa, ek?). May today and the next 364 days be filled with joy and good tidings.

 Birthday girl is the one on the left. This pic taken eons ago and lifted from someone's FB album.

Four brothers

It has really been quite hectic the past week, to the extent that I have not been able to blog for quite a while. Early last week, I was in Taiping to visit a project site. The very same evening, I drove straight down to Johor Bahru because I had a meeting scheduled in Singapore the following morning. Utterly back-breaking drive... but what to do? Better this than being idle.

Anyway, just a simple post to update my readers that I am still around. A bit tired from all that travelling, maybe... but generally not doing too bad.

I was in Singapore again on Saturday to meet up with my youngest brother at our mom's place. This brother currently works and stays in London and is en route to a business trip in Beijing. He made a stop-over in Singapore before flying back to the UK later this week, that is if the Icelandic volcano ash is no longer disrupting the European airspace.

The occasion gave the chance for mom to cook her special briyani dish for all her four sons to savour. Somehow, it just happened that none of our spouses were present and it was just the four brothers and some of mom's grandchildren. And when the ladies are not around, the guys are free to talk about anything and everything...

From L to R : Shahrin (No 4, London), Fadhil aka Oldstock (No.1, Kuala Lumpur), Zulkiflie (No.2, Singapore) and Azhar (No.3, Singapore)

The last person to know

Not many of the younger generation on Facebook want to be friends with their relatives of the older generation for fear that news of their activity posted on FB profiles would reach unwanted parties, namely their parents. Not that they are doing anything terribly nasty or the like... but more on matters of the heart.

A few of my nieces have added me as friends and it has been interesting for me to see the things that are going on with their life from their status and photo updates. It is how I know who's just been traveling to where, who's having problem with boyfriends or other stuff young girls like to chat about. I drop in once in awhile, dropping a comment or two... mostly in jest. But the things I learn about them, I keep to myself... because I'm not a spy. I do not leak info to their parents or even to my wife. That's why I'm such a cool uncle :-)

One such niece, I observed, is seeing a new guy and I reckon the relationship is heading a serious direction with marital commitments becoming likelihood. But I wasn't sure if anybody else knew because nobody else in the family is talking about it... not even the young lady's parents whom I met a few weeks ago.

Last weekend, the young lady went home to her kampung. Accompanying her was her boyfriend who's being introduced to the parents for the first time. My sister-in-law received one of the biggest shocks of her life. The young man her daughter brought home is a Chinese.

News is now spreading fast through the family grapevine that so-and-so is dating a Chinese guy. The story reached my wife from another sister and she's just told me about it this evening. I feigned a little surprise as if I knew nothing about it.

This niece of mine is really a pretty lass and is known to be involved in relationships with a few Malay men before, at various stages. Apparently, none of them worked out. She's following her heart and hoping that her jodoh is now with a man of another race.

To my lovely niece from Mersing who shall remain nameless for now, I pray that you find the happiness that you seek. I wish you all the best and hope everything will work itself out in the end...

Two birthdays. One, happy... the other, not so

There are times when someone would come up to you wanting to tell good news and bad news, and you're then asked which one you would like to hear first. This post is somewhat like that. I'll start with the good news...

1. Monday, 18 January 2010

On this date nineteen years ago, my second son was born. Harith or Angah as we affectionately call him, left the comfort of his mother's womb without too much complication. When I first set sight on him, I was a bit surprised that he didn't look much like his elder brother. His skin was very fair and his facial features were more Chinese than Malay. My wife even had to ask the maternity nurse if the baby really was her son.

At that time, I joked with my wife that if she had managed to delay the delivery by one day, our second son would have a lovely number as his birthday, 19.01.1991. She tersely replied, `Kalau dah nak terberanak tu, mana boleh tahan-tahan!'

Angah at 11 months, Taman Cempaka, Johor Bahru.

I happened to be at our Kuala Lumpur Head Office on Monday and so took the opportunity to treat my son for a birthday dinner later that night. Before leaving the office at around 6pm, I sent him a text message about the dinner plan and for him to invite his room-mates as well.

It was raining very heavily in Kuala Lumpur as I drove out of the city on the DUKE highway heading to Shah Alam. The rain however dried up as I reached PJ area.

Upon reaching UiTM, I was surprised that five of Angah's friends wanted to come along. As long as the five of them are willing to squeeze in the back seat of my car, I am more than happy to treat them all to dinner. We went to Restoran Tasik Indah, the seafood restaurant located by the lake in the middle of Shah Alam town.

It was quite a sumptious meal and delicious too. We had fish, squid, prawns, lala, tom yam and bean curd. You can see the delight in the faces of the young men as they heartily tucked in the food. The plates were all wiped clean... and that made me very happy indeed.

Angah (3rd from left) and his room-mates in the after-dinner pose

During the meal, some of Angah's friends asked me about career advice and I was glad to impart some. I can see that they are all good boys and I wish them all the success in their studies.


2. Wednesday, 20 January 2010

One of the real advantages to sign up on Facebook is the ability to re-connect with long-lost friends. In the middle of December last year, I received an add friend request from someone whom I knew from our A-level years in the UK.

I first met this friend in December 1979 at MRSM Seremban when we attended the orientation that Mara held for students selected to go overseas for further studies. He introduced himself by the nickname of Badik, or as I later found out, he likes to spell out in the stylised form of Badique. In Malay, badik is a small knife primarily used as a weapon. How he chose (or was bestowed) this nickname was not revealed.

Four close pals in Wrexham, North Wales, UK circa 1980.
L to R : Khairil, Shahrin, Oldstock and Badique.

Apparently Badique had read my blog and knew that I frequently come to Shah Alam to visit my son in college. He left a message on my FB profile, inviting me to drop by his place at Section 30 for teh tarik anytime I'm again in the area.

Yesterday, I took the opportunity to do just that but I did not inform him beforehand, preferring to make it a surprise visit. He has his house address written as Taman Aisya in Kg. Jalan Kebun at Section 30, Shah Alam. I searched Google Maps but Taman Aisya is nowhere to be found. Jalan Kebun itself stretches for a few kilometres and simply driving along without any pointers would be too time-consuming. I then recalled a reply that Badique made to one of his friend's comments on a photo of his house... something about the house being located at the end of Jalan Haji Abdul Aziz. Another refined search of the map revealed a possible location and I decided that it was good enough. I could have simply called up my friend to ask for directions but I'm always game for a bit of adventure.

I headed out of KL using KESAS highway and easily located the Jalan Kebun exit. From there, it was just simply trial and error. I found my friend's house soon enough, based on the photo he had posted in his FB profile.

Apart from wanting to meet a friend I last saw in 1986, there is another reason why I really need to see him.

Badique is suffering from bone cancer. As I stepped into my friend's house yesterday afternoon, he was really surprised to see me but even after lapse of 24 years, he instantly recognised me. On my part however, seeing my friend in a frail condition immediately saddens my heart. Badique could not stand or walk properly without the aid of crutches. But he hides his suffering bravely and he remained in high spirits throughout our conversation.

For nearly two hours we chat about old times, about old friends we have lost touch, about re-discovering each other in Facebook, about our jobs both previous and present, and about our kids. We talked a bit about the cancer, but not much.

The cancer started at his pelvic bone but how far it has spread, he didn't say. And I didn't have the heart to ask. Badique has declined the conventional treatment of chemotherapy. He believes in alternative medication and is trying out remedies on a few fronts.

Today, the 20th of January, my friend Bahruzzaman Abdul Kadir a.k.a. Badique is 48-years old. Happy birthday, my brother. I pray to Allah swt for the success in your treatment and recovery. I hope to be meeting you again at your next birthday with you hale and hearty, insyaAllah.

A young boy's initiative

This post is somewhat an extension of the previous entry. It is a story about my eldest son, not quite about what he said that caught me off-guard but rather, what he did. It happened many years ago when he was still in Year 1 of primary school.

When it was time for Along to start primary school, we enrolled him at Sekolah Kebangsaan Taman Sri Amar, which is located in a neighbouring area across a trunk road from where we stay. There is another school within our neighbourhood that is nearer but we chose to send him to the other school because some of the teachers there are our family friends.

On his first day, I sent him to school in my car. Year 1 students are in the afternoon session and we arrived with plenty of time to spare. The school compound was understandably rowdy with nervous young children and anxious parents facing the start of a new experience. The sound of crying kids and voices of cajoling moms could be heard here and there. My son was as cool as a cucumber… no tears or tantrums from him.

After the students had entered their classrooms, I left the school to return to my office. Later in the evening, I went back to the school to fetch my son. How was his day, I asked. Oh okay… made some new friends, he replied. Not a talkative type, this eldest son of mine.

The next day, I took an early lunch break to go home, fetch my son and send him to school. This time, I just dropped him at the gate because he already knows how to get around. I returned to the office and got busy with work. I was tied down in a meeting and realised a bit too late that I need to fetch my son after school. I rushed out of the office and headed for the school, which is actually not really that far away. Thankfully traffic was not that heavy.

As I reached the last turn of the road about a few hundred metres to the school, I noticed a small schoolboy in the distance, walking on the roadside towards my direction. Poor boy… I thought, to be walking home alone. Why aren’t his parents fetching him or arranged for a school bus?

As I got closer to the boy, I was hit by a bolt of shock. Goodness me, the walking schoolboy is my own son!

I slowed down the car and then stopped when I reached him. I opened the passenger door and my son climbed in. It took me a few moments to recover from the surprise… before I managed to calmly ask him, `Along nak pergi mana jalan kaki ni?’

He simply replied, `Along nak balik rumah la. Habis tu, lama Along tunggu Abah… tak sampai-sampai.’

My next question,`Along tahu ke jalan nak balik rumah?’

`Tahu… ikut jalan yang Abah drive masa hantar tadi,’ he answered confidently.

I was momentarily at a loss for words. The route from my house to the school follows a roundabout way because of a 6-lane trunk road that separates the two areas. The driving distance is almost 3km but a route on foot (if you so wish) is half of that. If I had not crossed paths with my son, he would’ve walked 3 kilometres along unfamiliar roads. The thought of him having to cross the busy trunk road gave me the shudders.

I wasn’t sure what I felt at that time but I guess overall, it must have been a huge sense of relief. I was not angry with my son because it was actually my fault for not giving him instructions on what to do in case I was late. He had taken the initiative to find his way home… the least I can do is to give him credit for that.

As my son settled himself in the car seat as if nothing has happened, I drove towards the school and parked by the roadside in front of the gate. We both got out and I held his hand as we walked back into the school compound towards the canteen. The compound was largely quiet by then… only a few children left waiting for whoever or whatever to take them home.

We reached the canteen and sat side by side on a bench. I then carefully spoke to the him, `Esok atau lusa, kalau Abah lambat datang nak amik Along… jangan pegi mana-mana ye… Along tunggu kat kantin ni, sampai Abah datang, okay?’

`Okay,’ he said.

We walked back to the car and headed home but not before stopping at a coffee shop for a drink. I guess the drink was more for me to reflect on the situation rather than anything else. I ordered Nescafe for myself and ice-cream for my son. I silently watch the young man eat his ice-cream and wonder how a 7-year old boy can be brave enough to make such a decision. I was never that brave when I was his age.

The following day, I made sure I left the office in time to reach school before the kids get out. To test if he understands my instruction, I purposely parked the car some distance away and out of sight. When the classes were let out, I spotted my son among the hundreds of other children. He had a look at the gate where all the other parents were waiting. When he couldn’t see me, he walked back to the canteen and waited there. I stood by a little while longer, just to make sure.

It has been thirteen years now since that incident. Along is now into his third year at a university in Jordan. In that time, he has already made two trips (with friends) to the holy land in Mecca to perform umrah and one trip (alone) to London to visit his uncle (my youngest brother) during winter break.

May the Almighty always watch over you, my son.

Father-son conversations

For the past week or so, a few blogger-friends have posted interesting and amusing stories about the conversations with their young children. The witty responses that come from the mouth of our young ones sometimes catch us off-guard, but they never fail to raise a smile or a chuckle from us.

Recording such beautiful dialogue in blog posts is a wonderful way of preserving the memories. Pretty soon, our children grow up... and we long for the days when we could cuddle them and listen to their innocent banter.

My days of cuddling the boys are already over. As you can gather from my earlier posts, my sons have all grown up into young men. The youngest one is already a teenager. So stories about funny and witty replies are all but just memories. A few of these stand up in mind but maybe I'll post them on another day.

Father and two sons, circa 2000

Father-son conversations are not as common as mother-son conversations. The reasons are quite obvious. In general, sons are closer to their mother than their father. There are things that a son can only tell his mother... especially things that relate to emotions and feelings. It is somewhat not a `manly' thing to do to be talking to your dad about stuff like that. Moms understand these things better. Often, the father is the last person in the house to know. Fathers only get consulted on really formal stuff and in particular, any decision that has a financial impact.

My sons have always been closer to their mother... and it is fine by me. Because I can say the same for myself too. So don't ask me if I know the names of my sons' girlfriends... or if they actually do have girlfriends already. My wife would know.

When the eldest boy got the opportunity to study overseas about 2 years back, I had Streamyx broadband installed at home. The main purpose of which was to allow the mother to be in contact with the son on Yahoo Messenger. And when I fitted the webcam on our home desktop a bit later, she can see the image of her son in real-time, all those 8,000 km away. And then she starts worrying if her son is eating well because he looks so thin...

The technology of today has made the old form of communication near obsolete. I am of course, referring to the art of letter-writing between a son and his parent. I don't think my son has ever written a letter to his mother, not even when he was in boarding school. He would feel hard-pressed to write one now, especially in decent, if not classic, Bahasa Melayu. His YM chats with his mother are in standard everyday informal prose.

I remember as a student, writing letters to my mother in classic writing style... the one that starts : Kehadapan ibunda ku yang dikasihi, semuga ibunda dan ayahanda yang berada jauh di tanahair sentiasa dalam keadaan sihat hendaknya...

My mother was a schoolteacher once, hence my letters to her need to be tip-top. It wasn't too much of a trouble for me because I loved writing. Letters to my mother could be four or five pages long. Comparatively, one to my father would be 2 pages at most :-)

I wonder if my mom still keeps my letters. It would be real interesting to re-read them after all these years. I wonder now, what was it that I actually wrote about. Surely personal and emotional stuff mostly, and probably ridiculously embarassing on hindsight. But one thing I can assure you is that the language is gracefully classic.

Then and now...

It has been quite a hectic week of Aidilfitri celebrations for us this year. The past seven days were filled with near non-stop traveling... and also eating. The cycle of movement can be summarised in a single line as follows : JB -> Singapore -> JB -> Mersing -> Kota Tinggi -> JB -> Tangkak -> Semenyih -> KL -> KLIA -> Shah Alam -> Tanjung Malim -> KL -> JB.

We just returned home late last night, so today shall be strictly spent for rest and recuperation. I'll post the story and photos of our Hari Raya a bit later (if it is not too stale by then). Today's entry is just a brief look at how my three aces have grown. The two pics shown below are of my three sons taken at Aidilfitri at the same location (in front of my parents' home) but after a span of 12 years.

Photo 1 : Three Aces, Aidilfitri 1997

The first pic is a blurry scan of a photograph taken in 1997. Along (left) was 8 years-old, Angah (right) was 6, and Adik (middle) was 2.

Photo 2 : Three Aces, Aidilfitri 2009

The second pic was taken last week. The boys are standing in the same order as they did before. Angah is now taller than his elder brother.

Along has flown back to Jordan on Friday and we sent Angah back to his UiTM hostel the same afternoon. How time flies...

Ke mana tumpah kuah

My eldest son, who is studying medicine at Jordan University of Science and Technology, has started his own blog.

It is called Safarku Di Bumi Syam. I hope he does well in his studies and his new blog-writing venture.

My first attempt at creating a video

My nephew who got married a few weeks ago, hired a professional photographer to take pictures of the event. I had a look at the photographer's website where he has uploaded a video montage of the wedding. I have to say that the guy is quite good... the photos are beautiful.

Since I have my own collection of pics of the event, I thought that I might try making a video of my own. The Windows Movie Maker program has been sitting in my laptop all this while and it is about time that I experiment with it.

So here's my first attempt at video making... it is nowhere as good as the pro's, but we all have to start somewhere. Bear in mind that the pro-photographer used a dSLR. Where I lose out are the zoom shots, close-up potraits, depth-of-field control and of course, sharpness. In other words, everything *sigh*

I really need to get my hands on a Nikon dSLR soon...

Baby pics!

Our nephew and his wife came to visit earlier today. They brought along their two daughters, the younger of whom I last saw a few months ago and posted about it here -> A grand old man.

Nurul Aqilah is now just over four months old and is growing up to be a cute and chubby young lady.

Oldstock with his two grandnieces, Nurul Aishah and Nurul Aqilah

Aqilah in the arms of her grandaunt, Mrs Oldstock

Alang-alang menyeluk pekasam

Seems like I'm in the mood of using part of Malay proverbs as title for my posts. The full peribahasa Melayu reads, `Alang-alang menyeluk pekasam, biar sampai ke pangkal lengan'. It is an advice on not doing things at half-measure.

I've used this proverb so many times and yet I have never fully known what the word `pekasam' means. Until last week, that is. But we will get to that part shortly. I first like to continue with the story of my nephew's wedding from the previous post.

Some of you commented on the poignant moment when the groom cried while hugging his mother after the nikah procedure was over. This touching scene caused all the aunts (and some uncles) to shed tears too. The significance of the moment can be understood by knowing some history. Twenty-seven years ago, Fathhullah Azmie, was born two months premature. When he came out of his mother's womb, he was slightly larger than an adult's palm. The first month of his life was spent in an incubator. It was a touch and go situation. His parents were not sure he would make it. By the grace of Allah, he pulled through and survived. He has grown up to be a fine young man who is now a medical doctor posted in the rural outback somewhere in Pahang and on the way to starting a family of his own.

The nikah ceremony actually started in jovial mood. My wife's siblings are mostly jolly folks. We like to poke fun at each other. As we say in Malay, memang kuat bergurau. The bride, Nur Wahidah, being the newest addition to the family, is not spared either. But she's a good sport and she took all our jests in her stride. The following incident illustrates an example.

The day after the akad nikah is the reception at the bride's home and it includes the bersanding ceremony. Our entourage arrived at the reception right on time and assembled at the road junction a few metres from the house. The bride was supposed to come out and meet her groom outside, after which both of them would walk together side-by-side towards the wedding dais.

All of us from the groom's family waited in line for Wahidah to come out. When she arrived, she stood in front of us expecting to be paired with her groom but Fathhullah was nowhere to be seen. We were all mischievously grinning when one of the groom's sister jokingly said, `Alamak! Kita lupa bawa suami awak la... Nampaknya tak boleh nak bersanding hari ni.'

Wahidah nonchalantly replied, `Takpe... bersanding dengan Ucu pun boleh.' Ucu in this case, refers to the groom's uncle who is also my wife's youngest brother (he's the guy holding the mike for the groom in one of the pics in the earlier post). As it happens, Ucu is still single.

We all had a good laugh.... way to go, young lady. You'll fit right in with our family.

The groom's entourage upon arrival at the bride's house for the bersanding ceremony

The bride wondering where her husband is. The groom is quietly sitting in the Camry behind her.

Jangan lah masam muka... kitaorang gurau je!

Upon arrival at the house, we heard two loud bangs. This young man fired the shots into the air, apparently as a form of greeting to the newly-weds. I had him pose proudly with his gun for this pic. Talk about a shotgun wedding!

Indahnya pengantin bersanding atas pelamin

The groom's family. My three nieces in this pic are all still available

Right... now back to the story of pekasam. Before the bersanding ceremony that morning, we went to the Pekan Rabu in Alor Star to look for some breakfast. At a foodstall on the ground floor, the wife and I had some mee hoon sup utara while our son had something called nasi goreng brazil (see pic above). How's that for being creative in naming a dish!

After breakfast, we browsed the other floors of the Pekan Rabu and came across some stalls selling ikan pekasam. It is the first time I've seen the pickled fish as they are not available in Johor. I later found out the the pekasam process involves fermenting the fish (generally the fresh water variety) in dry-roasted ground rice plus some salt. The two main ingredients of pekasam, namely fresh-water fish and rice, are widely available in the northern states as compared to the south. That is why I never came across pekasam before, except in a Malay proverb.

The array of ikan pekasam sold at Pekan Rabu includes ikan puyu, ikan sepat and ikan lampam

There's something new to be learnt everyday. Now if only someone can explain to me the `menyeluk sampai ke pangkal lengan' part...

Ikan di laut, asam di darat

It has been a very busy weekend. My nephew who is originally from Johor Bahru, got married to a sweet young lass from Alor Star in Kedah. On Saturday, we made the long travel up north as part of the rombongan pengantin lelaki (groom's entourage).

After the bernikah (wedding vows) ceremony, we took the opportunity to visit a brother-in-law of mine in Kangar, Perlis. We have just now returned back to JB from Kangar, a drive of around 750km. I have now driven the full length of the North-South Expressway.

The groom's father now lives in Rawang, Selangor. Next weekend is the reception at his place. It means that, for three consecutive weekends, I'll be doing some long-distance driving and becoming a loyal customer of Plus Expressways Bhd. Thank god for energy drinks.

So please pardon me if this post contains more pictures than text. I'll write about the wedding and the trip up north in upcoming entries.

My congratulations to Dr. Fathhullah Azmie Bin Nawawi and Nur Wahidah Binti Abidin. May the coming years be filled with warmth, joy and understanding.

Selamat Pengantin Baru. Semuga kekal hingga ke anak cucu.

The groom showing his array of gifts to the bride

The groom with his three sisters

Nine trays of hadiah hantaran

In the mosque with the Tok Qadi reading out the khutbah nikah

The Tok Qadi cracking a joke to relieve the groom's nervousness

The groom reading out his lafaz takliq

All clear... time to put pen on paper

The bride signing her agreement to be a wife

The groom is all-smiles even before the ink on the paper has dried

Handing over of the dowry from husband to wife

Part of the bride's gifts in return include a Sony Playstation 3. Now that's new!

The groom in an emotional embrace with his mother when it is all over and done

Footnote : The title of this post refers to a Malay proverb which in whole, reads : Ikan di laut, asam di darat. Dalam belanga bertemu jua. I do not know of an English equivalent but the approximate meaning is that though two hearts may be far apart (figuratively, of different worlds), it is destiny that they would meet one day and be joined in matrimony.

One less member in the house

The signs of me entering the veteran phase of my life is becoming clearer by the day. On Saturday, we sent our second son for registration at UiTM in Shah Alam. He is doing Kursus Asasi Sains and if he does well, hopes to continue to study Medicine.

Another of our offspring has flown the roost, so to speak. Our household has one less member, and since we are not a big family to begin with, the relative quietness of the house is becoming more pronounced.

Registration day at UiTM Shah Alam for Asasi Sains students

Two brothers having fun before one is left behind to stay at the hostel

We have only three children, all boys. The eldest flew away to study at an overseas university. With the second one now in college, it leaves only the youngest son at home. My third boy is 14-years old... so I guess we have another three years at least, for us to bermanja-manja with our anak bongsu. After that, it will be just the missus and me... two elderly folks growing old together. Hopefully, we would not be getting on each other's nerves too often.

When I was dating my wife many, many years ago, this issue of how many children we would like to have was discussed once... but it was more of in jest. She asked me how many kids I wanted. Hmm... let's see, I said. My parents have five children and you have thirteen siblings... so why not we meet half way, say nine kids. She let out a loud laugh.... hahaha! No way, she said.

Over the years, I would meet with old friends or long-lost relatives whose questions would include the standard `Anak dah berapa sekarang?'. My response would always be : `Anak baru tiga' instead of the expected `Anak dah tiga', the former implying that we have three kids for now but hope for more to come. If my wife is around when the question is being asked, she would correct the answer to the latter.

This wish of having more children has crossed my mind a number of times, especially since we have no daughters. It concerns me that my wife would not have a daughter to help take care of her in old age. Having seen the ailments that my late mother-in-law suffered, I know that there are certain things only a daughter can do.

But I have never been the one to pressure my wife on this subject. The choice of stopping at three was entirely hers. When I mentioned about who is to take care of her when she's old, she simply replied, `Let's hope that we get very good and kind-hearted daughter-in-laws.'

At times like these, the common adage of `It's the quality and not the quantity that counts' becomes a appropriate, even though it is just a small measure of self-comfort. In Malay we say, `Sekadar untuk menyedapkan hati.'

We have three healthy, intelligent and well-behaved sons. We know some friends and relatives who have only one child... and some friends and relatives who have none. We should count our blessings.

A grand old man

Earlier this month, I was conferred the title of `datuk'. Our niece, Melati Bt. Razak, safely delivered her second baby girl at the Kota Tinggi District Hospital. Melati and her husband, Hasnul Asyraf, now have two daughters.

Yesterday, my sister-in-law held a thanksgiving ceremony (kenduri doa selamat dan cukur jambul) at their home in Kota Tinggi. My new grand-niece has been named Nurul Aqilah.

16-day old Nurul Aqilah in the arms of her grand-uncle Oldstock

This latest addition to our extended family is actually our tenth grandnephew or grandniece. My wife and I have been called `Tok' for about 8 years now. So you guys need not feel uneasy to call me Oldstock, okay?

Of seeking forgiveness and renewing ties

The beauty of Eid-ul Fitri celebrations is that it allows you to visit elder relatives during a specific period. Otherwise, for whatever reason, most of us would find it difficult or even awkward to visit our grandparents, aunts or uncles if we do not have any specific reason to do so.

Aidilfitri gives us the opportunity to meet up, catch up on the latest stories and renew ties. The food, cookies and refreshments are just an aside from the main objective of the occasion. At the end of the visit, we salam and kiss the hands of our elders while asking them to forgive us for any transgressions that we may have done. The seeking of forgiveness from your senior relatives can be very poignant moments, accompanied almost always by hugs and tears... especially when your elder says, `Entah jumpa lagi tak kita ni tahun depan, ya?'.

My Aidilfitri for this year was spent with my parents in Singapore but the celebrations were held at my sister's house in Bukit Panjang. My sister had actually moved into her house some time back but she only managed to furnish it recently. She had asked our parents and my family to spend the Hari Raya at her home for the first time and we duly obliged. Sort of a house-warming and hari raya two-in-one deal.

The morning feast for Hari Raya consisted of our traditional lontong accompanied by sambal goreng, sambal kacang, ayam masak merah, daging goreng chili and serunding kelapa. We had to make do with the instant nasi himpit because my sister didn't have time to get the real coconut leaves to make ketupat.

The day was filled with visits by my cousins from both sides of the Causeway. Some of the cousins I have not met for a number of years. I got to meet some new nephews and nieces for the first time too.

Many of the visiting relatives complimented my sister and her husband on their beautiful home. They had spent a lot of time getting their house nicely decorated so the compliments were very encouraging. It was a joyous day indeed.

The following days of hari raya were spent back at my wife's kampong in Mersing. I'll post about it next, I hope. Need to take some rest now and prepare to get back to work tomorrow.

Update 08.11.2021 : A few of the those in the pictures are no longer here. My brother Azhar Bin Isma Yatim, my father Isma Yatim Bin Hj Ramli and my cousin Noraini Bt Rohani, have all departed. My sister and her first husband have divorced many years ago. She has since remarried. So the house mentioned in this post is all but a memory.