Formerly broad, not long

The 2015 Athletics World Championship in Beijing has just ended two days ago. For the week that the sports event was in progress, I was mostly in front of the television, engrossed in watching the live transmission from China.

I am hardly a sportsman myself. The only games that I seriously play are football and badminton. However, I did have a minor involvement in athletics while in school. I ran the 400 metres. For this, the tiny achievement I managed to accomplish was a 3rd-place finish in the boys 400m relay. Among the 4 boys in our team, which really was the weakest team in the competition, I had the fastest individual time. Our coach, following the conventional thinking of the time, placed me to run the anchor leg. As we were getting ready at the start line, my teammate who was our 2nd fastest runner (and slated to run the 3rd leg), told me his plan on how we could possibly win something out of the race.

He said that he intends to run flat out fast from the moment he gets the baton and hope that his stamina will hold until he cross the finish line. He suggested that we switch positions, the idea being that I could hopefully catch up on some lost ground while running the 3rd leg. Leaving it to the last leg would be too late, he said. At the spur of the moment, I agreed. We switched places just as the starter was about to call for the 1st leg runners to take their mark. (Of course, technically this is against the rules, but what the heck... this was just a school sports meet held some thirty years ago.)

The race started and as expected, our first two runners could not match the other teams. By the time I received the baton, we were in 4th (last) position. I had some distance to catch up to the 3rd-placed guy. This I did while nearing the bend at the 300m mark and finally managed to overtake him as we entered the home straight. When I passed the baton to our last runner, he sped off as if he was sprinting the short distances. As I watch him run, I was worried he would lose his steam and be overtaken. But true to his word, he held on just enough to maintain the 3rd-placing and secure the team a bronze medal which we never expected to be within our grasp.

No doubt, we did not win the gold but it was a race I remember to this day because of a friend's very quick thinking on strategy. Which is why I love to watch track and field events on TV, especially the relays. The final event at Beijing on Sunday was fittingly enough, the Men's 400m relay. It was an enthralling race won by the American team despite some thrilling running by the Jamaicans.

Ok then... let's end this post with some track & field trivia.

Did you know that the long jump event in athletics was originally called the broad jump? In 1967 it was renamed to long jump because the term `broad' was considered as derogatory to women. Ooops...

The long jetty at Teluk Sengat in Kota Tinggi. Pic not relevant at all to story :-)

And then there were three...

In April of 2010, I posted an entry where I introduced my brothers to the readers of this blog. The short entry, titled Four Brothers, included a photograph of the quartet of men whose maximum age difference is only six years apart, with yours truly being the eldest.

Only three of us remain today. On this day last week, the 3rd brother Azhar, left us... quite suddenly.

It was early morning of last Friday when I received a phone call informing us of his unexpected demise. Apparently, he had woken up that morning, feeling a bit under the weather. He had asked his elder son to accompany him to the clinic. Since there was a paramedic post at the next apartment block, the son suggested that they get the aid of an ambulance to go directly to a hospital. As they were walking towards the post, my brother collapsed and fell on the sidewalk, just a few yards short of the post. A paramedic on duty saw the incident and rushed to provide CPR assistance. My brother could not be revived. However, they still put him in the ambulance and took him to the nearest hospital, just to be sure. But it is God's will... I was to lose a brother. The death of the closest family member I have experienced thus far.

My brother did not have any history of serious medical problems, which is why his departure was very much unexpected. And because of this absence of medical record, the doctors at the hospital which first received his body would not sign off the death certificate. An autopsy had to be performed at the Singapore General Hospital to determine the actual cause of death. This meant that the burial ceremony could not be carried out as soon as we would have liked.

The post-mortem examination could only be carried on Saturday morning. This delay put additional stress on my sister-in-law, the widow. I also had a bit of trouble keeping my cool as some relatives were pressing us to secure the release of the body as soon as possible. Nonetheless, with the help of my two other brothers, we handled the situation as best we could by dividing tasks. One of my brothers arranged for the burial process with our local mosque committee while the other was stationed at the coroner's office to update us on the progress of the autopsy.

The autopsy was completed around 12.45pm. The official COD was listed as coronary atherosclerosis. In plain man's language it means that there were blockages to the arteries that supply blood to the heart. In other words, my brother died of a heart attack. He was only 49 years old.

The due process of the burial requirements proceeded immediately after the body was released from the coroner's office. My brother's body was brought back to his home in Choa Chu Kang where it was cleaned, shrouded and final prayers offered, before burial at the Pusara Abadi Muslim Cemetery at around 4 pm. Praise to Allah swt for the reasonably smooth process and the pleasant weather.

The most difficult part was actually the day earlier... how do I break the news to our mother? At that time (and even till today), she was warded at St. Luke's Hospital in Bukit Batok for physiotherapy treatment following her heart attack which happened in June. While the death had occurred in early morning, my two other brothers decided to wait for my arrival from JB in late afternoon for me to tell our mother the sad news. It is probably the gloomiest moment in my life to date. I could not imagine the sorrow going through her heart to be told that one of her offspring has departed ahead of her.

As I sit now and contemplate the recent conversations I had with my late brother, it becomes inevitable that certain ironic instances come to the surface. I'll share one such example.

Some time ago, my youngest brother (no. 4) created a Whatsapp group for the 4 siblings to facilitate the sharing of news and family updates. It is a convenient tool because we are located in three different countries (Singapore, Malaysia and the UK). However, the group has only three members because Brother No. 3 could not be added. At first we assumed that he was still using a normal mobile phone. When I met him in June at the time our mother was admitted to hospital, I saw that he actually used a smartphone. So I told him that we have a Whatsapp group for the brothers and it is a convenient way to communicate, citing the particular example of the present situation where our mum is in hospital. Why don't you install the app, I asked. His answer then, was quite surprising. I don't believe in social media, he said. I don't have Whatsapp or Facebook or all those other stuff. I am using this smartphone only because it is the cheapest phone on contract offered by the telephone company.

Indeed. I guess our Whatsapp group for brothers, which started with three members, is destined to remain at 3, at least for now.

Al-fatihah untuk allahyarham Azhar Bin Isma Yatim. Kembali ke rahmatullah pada pagi hari Jumaat, 14hb Ogos 2015M, bersamaan 29 Syawal 1436H. Meninggalkan seorang isteri, 2 orang anak perempuan dan 2 orang anak lelaki. Semuga Allah swt mengampuni dosa beliau dan menempatkan roh beliau di kalangan para soliheen.

Same photo from the April 2010 post. Allahyarham Azhar is seated right.

Final resting place...

What a coincidence

Last weekend saw me and my better half travelling north to Kuala Lumpur to visit relatives and friends. On such long drives, I would usually have the walkman of my mobile phone playing a selection of mp3 songs piped through headphones. Radio reception via the car's stereo is inconsistent because the station frequencies change as we travel.

One of the songs in my playlist is Purple Rain by Prince. I was listening to this particular song when I drove past a large advertising billboard at the side of the highway. The image that caught my eye was this pretty young lady dressed in racing-driver garb standing next to a sports car. It was an advertisement for Prince Lubricants. Well, not quite Prince the music performer but it was an interesting coincidence nonetheless. (By the way, I googled the product and the hottie race driver is called Leona Chin).

Such coincidences have occurred quite frequently to the extent of making me wonder if they have any meaning at all. The phenomenon has a specific name - synchronicity. It is a concept first proposed by Swiss psychiatrist Carl Jung. One definition of this concept, as given by Google, is as follows :

synchronicity (n) ~ the simultaneous occurrence of events that appear significantly related but have no discernible causal connection.

So what has prompted me to be writing a blog post on this subject? Of course it has to be that another synchronistic event happened again, right? Well, not one... but two. Last night.

1. Mellifluous

I was watching this new TV series on National Geographic called Innovation Nation. In one segment of the show, the host Mo Rocca, was explaining that the Henry Ford Museum in Michigan, USA has a very large collection of items. So large that many are not displayed but kept in their extensive archive. Among these are a few precious Stradivarius violins. One of the adjectives Rocca used to describe the Stradivarius was its mellifluous quality. Rocca mentioned that he would explain the term later towards the end of the show.

Not wanting to wait that long, I opened the Dictionary.com app on my tablet. Lo and behold, without even the need for me to type in the word to search its meaning, the app opened with its customary 'Word Of The Day' page and there in bold is displayed the chosen word... mellifluous. How's that for a coincidence. Mellifluous, by the way, means sweet-sounding.

2. The Tower of Babel

After watching Innovation Nation, I was still not sleepy and so switched to the History Channel. It was showing an episode of Ancient Aliens. Not one of my favourite shows actually (too much conjecture and too little proof). This particular episode touched on the story of the Tower of Babel, as mentioned in the Book of Genesis. The tower, which  reached a height of 300ft, was supposedly built by the people who survived the Great Flood. To have the skill and technology to be building a structure of that height at that time, the programme suggests the possibility that aliens may have provided assistance of some sort. Seriously?

I couldn't hold my interest much longer so I switched off the TV and thought that it was time to doze off. I still could not sleep so I picked up the book I was currently reading. I was halfway through reading The Story of English (authors Rob McCrum, Robert MacNeil and William Cran). It is the story of the history and development of the English language and its spread to become the global choice of written and spoken communication. I had paused my reading at the part where the authors were telling of the Scouse accent unique to the region of Liverpool in north England. Resuming my reading, the book then went on to the chapter called 'Black on White', where it describes the effect of the black African slave trade had on the spread, variation and usage of English.

A sub-chapter of this section is called `The Tower Of Babel'. It caused me to pause in surprise. The authors chose to use this phrase as a sub-heading because they quoted a line from a 1744 writing by Captain William Smith named A New Voyage to Guinea. Needless to say, this coincidence caused me further difficulty in falling asleep.

(Note : My further reading about the ancient Tower of Babel, indeed is related to the story of languages. But let's leave that for another day.)

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In my haul of inexpensive books from the Big Bad Wolf sale in JB earlier this year, I picked up a book called The 7 Secrets Of Synchronicity written by the husband and wife team of Trish and Rob MacGregor. I have not read it yet. But with these recent occurrences, I guess I'll start reading it today.

So, does all these coincidences have meaning? Let's find out, shall we...

Meaningful coincidences...

Down with dengue

In the slightly over half-a-century of my life, I have so far only required in-patient hospital treatment on two occasions. The first time was in 2001 (I think) when my tonsils were so inflamed that they were causing breathing problems and my doctor advised to have them removed. That particular operation was carried out at an old government military hospital in Kinrara, Puchong. How I ended up undergoing tonsillectomy surgery at a military facility, which today is no longer in operation, is perhaps another story on its own.

The other time I had to be warded in hospital was last week. I was suffering from high fever, headache and muscular pain all over. When the illness did not recede after 4 days, I went to see a GP who quickly suspected that I was down with dengue and suggested that I go to a hospital for a blood test. The next morning, I went to the nearby Puteri Specialist Hospital. Upon registering, the doctor's assistant asked me how long I had been ill. Five days including today, I said. She immediately arranged for a blood test even before the doctor had time to examine me.

By the time the doctor checked in to his clinic after doing his morning rounds, the test results were in. Confirmed I had dengue. Based on the blood platelet count, my condition is not considered too serious. The doctor gave me the option of whether I wish for outpatient treatment. If so, I have to ensure I rigorously take in sufficient fluids and come in daily to do the blood tests. Not wanting to take any risks, I chose to be admitted.

There is actually no specific treatment for dengue fever. The standard medical advice is to drink lots of water. The non-standard advice are many... consume crab soup, drink pomegranate juice, take in lots of isotonic drinks and perhaps the most frequent advice of all, as suggested by well-meaning friends and relatives who have suffered the same, drink the juice extracted from papaya leaf shoots. I tried them all... but the papaya leaf juice takes the cake when it comes to comparison of tastes. I managed to down one small glass of the stuff. It was the most bitter liquid concoction I have ever swallowed. All good medicines are bitter, they say. But this one is right up there on the bitterness scale.

The first night I was in hospital, an IV drip was inserted in my left hand. To further aid recovery, I drank copious amounts of plain water. This regime meant that I visited the toilet more often. Dragging the IV stand to the toilet every time I had to pee was somewhat inconvenient, but what to do. At first, I kept count of how many times I got up to relieve myself but when I pass the figure of ten, I stopped counting.

Alhamdulillah, my blood platelet count improved after the third day and I was allowed to go home. I am now resting at home and recovering well. Dengue fever in Malaysia is reaching alarming proportions. According to the Ministry of Health, the number of reported cases for the 6 months of this year has reached more than 56,000, a 34% increase over the same period last year. There have already been 162 deaths.

Very serious indeed. Please take care. Thank you to my dear friends and relatives for the kind thoughts and prayers.

IV needle attached to left hand

Crab soup. Normally delicious but when you have no appetite..

Papaya leaf juice. Top of the bitterness scale..

Aidilfitri 1436H / 2015M

The aidilfitri celebration, like most other religious and cultural festivals in Malaysia, is a time when family members gather for the chance to reinforce or renew relationships. It is a time when sons and daughters, who work in the city, make the trip back to their respective home-towns or villages to spend the first day of Syawal with their parents. For those whose parents have already departed, it then becomes a day of remembrance and reminiscing the memories of hari raya days of a long time ago.

I am very lucky to still have both father and mother to celebrate this special ocassion with. However, for the past two years, the annual family gathering had been a bit different. Last year, my father spent his hari raya in the ward of National University Hospital in Singapore. He was suffering from pneumonia and was hospitalised for a total of 42 days. This year, on the third day of fasting, my mother had a heart attack and was transported to the same hospital in an ambulance. She was discharged just 2 days before Aidilfitri, after undergoing treatment for 24 days. She is now staying with me for a short while before I have to send her to be re-admitted to another hospital for further therapy.

Praise be to the Almighty. I am counting my blessings each day.

Selamat Hari Raya Aidilfitri to all my friends and readers. May all of you be in good health and joyful spirit.

Masjid Ubudiah in Kuala Kangsar, Perak. Pic taken in May 2015.

The Cave of The Seven Sleepers

On the outskirts of Amman, the capital of Jordan, there is a historic site where it is believed that seven young men hid in a cave to escape religious persecution from their tyrant ruler. They fell asleep for what they thought to be a day or so, but turned out to be for a much longer period. Upon rising from their slumber, one of the youths went out to the nearby town to buy food and when he wanted to pay for his purchase, the shop owner discovered that the coins offered came from a time when a different emperor ruled many years earlier.

This story of the People of The Cave or As-habul Kahfi, is well-known in Islamic teachings and even has a parallel in Christian tradition. The story is mentioned in Surah 18 of the holy Al-Qur'an, beginning from Verse 9 to Verse 26. While popular accounts put the number of the young men at 7, the Qur'an does not give an exact figure. Verse 22 indicates the possible number at 3 or 5 or 7, but with a gentle reminder from the Almighty that such an uncertainty should not be leading us to arguments amongst ourselves. Only the Lord knows... plus a few others. And who might these few others be, I wonder.

Another interesting aspect of this story is that the young men had a dog with them. This pet canine kept watch at the cave's entrance, possibly deterring any unwanted parties from venturing into the cave and discovering the hiding place. Such a loyal trait that has been recorded in divine revelation.

Within those 18 verses that tell the story of the cave-sleepers is perhaps another important lesson for the Muslim faithful. Verse 23 and 24 are translated as such :

23 - And never say of anything, "Indeed, I will do that tomorrow,"

24 - Except [when adding], "If Allah wills." And remember your Lord when you forget [it] and say, "Perhaps my Lord will guide me to what is nearer than this to right conduct."

The said verses impart to us the need to cite the phrase `Insha Allah', meaning `if Allah wills' whenever we mention our intention to carry out something in the future. There is an interesting backstory to this.

Prophet Muhammad (sallalahu alaihi wa-sallam) faced a lot of scepticism and doubters during his early days of preaching to the people of Makkah. The leaders of Makkah sent two of their men to check with the Jewish rabbis of Madinah on Muhammad's claim of being a prophet. Since the Jews are people of the book, they would have more knowledge about such matters. The men described the new prophet and his teachings to the rabbis who then told them to ask Muhammad (s.a.w.) three questions, the answers to which would reveal the proof of authenticity.

 "Ask him about three things which we will tell you to ask, if he answers them then he is a Prophet who has been sent (by Allah); if he does not, then he is saying things that are not true, in which case how you will deal with him will be up to you. Ask him about some young men in ancient times, what was their story? For there is a strange and wondrous tale. Ask him about a man who traveled a great deal and reached the east and the west of the earth. What was his story? And ask him about the Ruh (soul or spirit), what is it?"

The men returned to Makkah and relayed the questions to the Prophet (s.a.w.) who accordingly replied, "I will tell you tomorrow." He had neglected to add, "Insha Allah".

The Prophet (s.a.w.) waited for Allah's revelation to enable him to give the answers. A whole day passed and the revelation did not come. As more days went by without any divine assistance, the people of Makkah made more fun of him and accused him of not keeping to his word. The Messenger of Allah was very sad to face such ridicule. It was only after 15 days that the angel Jibreel (alaihi-salam) came to the Messenger with the revelation of Surah Al-Kahfi which had the answers to questions posed by the rabbis. Indeed, also contained within the surah is the subtle reminder on the proper etiquette when promising to do something. Allahu-akbar!

And so my friends, what about the questions concerning the man who traveled a great deal or about the Ruh? Perhaps I will explore the answers to these questions in future postings... insha 'Allah.

Signboard at the cave site

Entrance to the cave located at a hill slope

Footnote : Apart from this place in Jordan, another site in Turkey called Ephesus also claims to be the Cave of the 7 Sleepers.

A picture paints a thousand words

In almost all of my non-fiction articles in this blog, I have included a photo or two of the subject matter in question. A well-taken and relevant photograph helps to make the post interesting. In my early days of blogging, I have sometimes resorted to 'borrowing' some images from cyberspace because my own stock of original photos had not reached a sizeable collection yet. When this happens, I would credit the original website by providing a link within the article. I'm not sure if this would suffice as an acknowledgement of copyright but I make sure that none of the borrowed pics are used for commercial gain.

Nowadays, all the pics which I use to accompany any of my posts shall be my own original photos. After 8 years of blogging and hundreds of published postings, the number of photos I have uploaded to the internet is quite substantial. And if we are to include the photo albums I have on my Facebook account, the overall quantity is not insignificant.

Which now brings us to the reverse situation where any one of my photos available on cyberspace could be borrowed by another person. I had thought of this possibility some years ago. I wouldn't mind if my pics are being used by another party as long as they credit the source. But I guess in the super-duper huge borderless world of cyberspace, this seems to be an unrealistic request.

Two days ago, a friend shared a link on FB for the recipe for char kway teow, the so-called `wet' version that's so popular up north. When I first glimpsed at the photo accompanying the recipe, I thought it looked so familiar. I scrolled through my hard-disk for the stock of my original CKT pics (yes, I now have quite a few) and sure enough, I found the same photo which was snapped in 2012 when I sampled the dish at a roadside outlet in Taman Perling in JB. I had uploaded that photo both in this blog and in the Johor Sedap FB page.

Screenshot of the FB link

The original photograph, taken using a Blackberry

I then clicked on the link where the full recipe was shown. It is a page run by someone primarily to sell slimming products targeted at the fairer sex. Beneath the recipe was written `copy-paste', meaning that the page administrator had copied the recipe (and presumably the pic) from elsewhere. I did further search on Google and found that the recipe/article is actually an app on Google Play.

So how do I feel that a pic of mine is being used by someone else? I'm not sure yet... in one sense it feels fine that one's handiwork is good enough to be used by others. On the other hand, a simple credit to the original source would be nice too.

Anyway, just to let you know that the stall where I had this plate of CKT is no longer operating, or perhaps has moved to another location. A bit sad, really... because the taste wasn't too bad. Comparable to the ones I have tried in Butterworth and Bukit Mertajam in Penang.

Iftar in the Little Red Dot down south

I have previously written that the most significant event by which I mark the passage of time is the coming of the holy month of Ramadhan. Not my birthday or my wedding anniversary, but the arrival of the fasting month every year.

Tonight we are already entering the 13th day of Ramadhan of the Hijri year 1436. I have yet to put up a post to mark the occasion. So I guess I'd better squeeze in something before the month of June leaves us. Otherwise this effort of blog revival would not seem serious enough.

Last Saturday, I made a trip across the Causeway to the Little Red Dot to visit my parents. That's what some people call the tiny island nation of Singapore. I kid you not... just google those 3 words and the search engine will give you the city-state as the top result.

My mother is actually at the National University Hospital, recovering from a heart attack that occurred the previous Saturday. She is now in the normal ward after being in the ICU for 6 days. Alhamdulillah, she seems to be getting better although, for such an ailment to befall any senior citizen of her age, the overall effect of the attack is yet to be ascertained. Nonetheless, there is much we can be grateful for and to continue with our prayers.

Since mom is not at home, I had to look for somewhere to break my fast. Small matter actually. After about two hours of keeping mom company, I headed out to the old Masjid Hajjah Fatimah at the Beach Road area of downtown Singapore. My father is presently there on part-time duty as a muezzin (bilal, in Malay). In fact nowadays, he spends most of his time at this particular mosque, which is quite a distance from where he lives in Bukit Batok. There is another mosque just across the apartment block of his house, Masjid Ar-Raudah, but he still prefers the travel to Hajjah Fatimah, even though it means taking two different bus routes to get there. I don't have to ask him why, because I can well guess the answer. Sentimental reasons. Beach Road (or more accurately Kampung Glam) is the area where he grew up. No doubt, the kampung house of my late grandmother is no longer there but I'm pretty sure nothing beats the feeling of being in familiar surroundings of one's childhood days.

Masjid Hajjah Fatimah was built in 1846. Wow, that is a really long time ago. It is fairly small in size by modern standards but has unique architecture and historical connection. It is now a national monument of Singapore. One of the famous characteristic of this mosque is its leaning minaret, which is off-centre by 6 degrees.

While my father made the call for Maghrib prayer, which is also the indicator for the end of the daily fast, I sat down in the verandah together with other muslim brothers to break our fast. It was a simple meal of rice porridge plus mutton briyani served in a tray, to be shared at 4 persons to a tray. The meal was cooked in the mosque compound and paid for by donations from anonymous well-wishers. Simple and humble communal feasting at its best.

An old minaret surrounded by modern towers

Waiting for the time to break fast

Mutton briyani rice to be shared, with rice porridge for starters