Saturday, December 26, 2009

That white house beside the beach…




The sea breeze was blowing, the waves lapping along the shores. But my eyes were more intent on finding a particular junction.

“Just make sure that you follow the coastal road and keep to it. You will come to a junction leading to Pantai Batu Rakit. Go along it, and just about 4 to 5 km. you will see the house - a white, 2 storey building, just beside the beach,” his voice sounding very kind, on the other side of the phone.

About a few months before that, he had dropped by my blog, leaving a few lines of comments. I hopped over to his and found it fascinating. My tears were streaming down my cheeks as I read the messages left by the children under his tutelage.

“I must find some time to visit this man and actually see how he has been doing all that he has been doing,” I said.

“If you say so, my dear,” said my other half, “just mark one of the days in the calendar. I badly need to take a break anyway,” his dreary eyes showing the weariness and tiresome bureaucracy that he has to put up with day by day at his office.

That was how we found ourselves on the east coast, spending the first night at KT. The next day we made our way a little to the north, towards Batu Rakit. Sure enough, as soon as our vehicle purred on, we could see the house; its façade very simple yet its ambience, ‘very English’.

“Come on right in, for it has started to rain,” said the real man, his actual personality exuding kindness all the more.

We were greeted by his wife, who took the trouble to lay the table for lunch. We talked as if we have known each other for years. The talking went on till teatime, which was Makcik’s special apple pie complete with custard sauce. So delicious!

Uncle Hassan and his wife Aunt Salma names that they want to be known – two gracious senior citizens who also insisted that we spent the night at their place. Such bliss…listening to the sound of the waves breaking onto the glistening sands…in one of the chalet like rooms which belong to one of his beloved sons.

There was so much that we learnt from these two kind souls; caring for others, doing the utmost to help the needy, giving hope and encouragement for the poor children whose fathers, grandfathers (and their forefathers) were fisherman, who believed that the only thing in life was the open sea. Clearly, these children needed some kind of input, to change their life and their future.

So many stories, so many touching moments, from someone who has been there and done that. For Uncle was selected to further his studies in the U.K. at a time when Malaysia has not been born. Who would have thought that a young boy from Arabic school could master the English Language within a short span of time? Also to learn Additional Mathematics all on his own. Who would have heard of Add Maths during that era? But Uncle did it all with his strong will and determination.

A sudden twist of fate. That was it. A chance that he thought he would miss. Then, one of the chosen candidates had to decline the offer of a place of study because of some reasons, he was taken in to replace the vacancy. To be away from home, to a faraway land, a foreign one that is. No sophisticated form of communications as we are privileged to have as of now. From being on his own at Loughborough Institute of Technology (as it was known then, now called Loughborough University), working very hard for his Mechanical Engineering degree under the sponsorship of an international oil and gas company, amidst the loneliness of the late 1950's. When Malaya obtained its so called independence, he was right there in London, writing feverishly in his diary, now all yellowed and tattered but still intact….

That night, we went to the house across the road (Al Manar – Arabic for ‘The Beacon’) that he has specially built for the underprivileged children as their sanctuary. A place that they may find extra care and coaching, guide and motivation to do better and excel. For it is there (Al Manar) that many of these unfortunate children who have at long last been exposed to techniques of teaching that made them spur on to improve their lives. His place was NOT a tuition centre – more so like a kind of learning centre. The children spend their nights here, as a getaway from their impoverished homes (ill equipped, unfavourable conditions and unconducive for study). Reading his blog, one may find testimonies from these children, so grateful to the efforts of these two caring souls, the unsung heroes of a beach house off the coast of a fishing village in Kuala Terengganu.

Uncle Hassan has strengthened my conviction in something which I believed in all along. Life is not all about accumulating wealth or providing comfort for you and your loved ones. It includes thinking about others especially the unfortunate ones and how to best to help them.

As a sequel to his “7 Habits of Highly Effective People”, Stephen Covey published “The 8th Habit: From Effectiveness to Greatness” which essentially urges: "Find your voice and inspire others to find theirs..." Uncle Hassan has exemplified this…he has inspired me…

“Whosoever doeth right, whether male or female, and is a believer, him verily we shall quicken with good life, and We shall pay them a recompense in proportion to the best of what they used to do.” ~Al Quran: Chapter An Nahl: Verse 97.

And he is a living proof of:

“You make a living by earning,
You make a life by giving…”

Narrated 'Abdullah bin Umar: Allah's Apostle said, "A Muslim is a brother of another Muslim, so he should not oppress him, nor should he hand him over to an oppressor. Whoever fulfilled the needs of his brother, Allah will fulfill his needs; whoever brought his (Muslim) brother out of a discomfort, Allah will bring him out of the discomforts of the Day of Resurrection, and whoever screened a Muslim, Allah will screen him on the Day of Resurrection. " Al Bukhari

Thursday, December 17, 2009

Muharram greeting...

A new year for Muslims again..

Blessed Muharram greetings 1431 to all. May the new year furnish you with deeper faith, increase commitment for amal ibadah (good deeds) and taqwa (steadfastness) towards Allah..

May Allah continue to bless you and your family in all your efforts and perseverence in the right paths towards Allah...Amin...

PS. Picture was taken from Rexsy here..

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

Reminiscing Terengganu…






“There it is!” said I, pointing my fingers to a prominent structure, jutting out from the green avenue of firs and casuarinas along its sides. Dusk has fallen. The waves were beating on the shores, the glimmering sands hardly seen any more in the deteriorating light.

It was just the two of us this time. My other half and I. We were there once before. More than 20 years ago. Only at that time, we were there as a family. I still keep the photos and would glance through it every now and then. Just to reminisce…..

Back then, our daughter was about 7 years of age. Beside her, was her little brother, and he was nearly 2. I wanted to take a photo of the two of them on the beach, in the breeze, under the shadows of the casuarinas. Our daughter was ready to pose. As usual, our little boy could not stay still for more than a minute. Something in the sand intrigued him and he put his face down, poking here and there in the sand with the stick at the last second, just as my finger pressed on the button. And the camera went click…

Those were such wonderful moments. We had traveled to the east coast using our old and battered second hand car (a Nissan 120Y, with a plate number beginning with PAE something…), grateful that we finally reached the coastal shores. At that time, there was no highway like now. We stopped at Pantai Batu Buruk, spending the night at about one of the more decent hotels amongst the handfuls that were around at K.T. We walked along the beach; sometimes running, sometimes walking; at times playing hide and seek. The children were laughing gleefully.

Then, we were off to Dungun, stopping to put up the night at a very modest place. No TV, no air-conditioning and no hot water. Only the bare necessities and the most important thing was that the place was spotlessly clean. In the early hour of the morning, we were already up, enjoying the view of the sun rising slowly above the horizon, the rolling white waves amidst the waters so blue.

Suddenly, there was a lot of noise and commotion in the air. Our little son whom we believe could not understand a thing, was somehow feeling the change in the air. Both our children's faces were beaming as they ran towards the shore.

Yonder, we could see a group of men, the waters up to their waistline, flanking both sides of what made up to be a boat. Slowly, they were closing into the shore, the semi-circular shape that they made becoming narrower and smaller. Just then, we could see something else. Right at the centre from where they stood, there were fish! Yes! Fish! Fresh and gleaming like rainbow in the sun's rays. Here and there, jumping up towards the sky and landing back onto the shallow waves. The net beneath them was beginning to show as the group of men slowly pulled it up onto the sands. A typical scene back then, of fishermen pulling in their catch of the day. But not to us, city dwellers. We were mesmerized!

By then, our children were nearly hysterical with excitement. And so were the little groups of children and women of the village, who had gathered around. They too were jumping up and down along the shores. Smiling faces, everywhere….

This little piece of experience was a very valuable one. The closest thing that our children got to real life fish were the occasional visits to the aquarium. We also took them to the wet market at the Central Market of Ipoh once in a while to let them watch how the fish that they finally see at the dinner table were being handled.

I cannot imagine how life would be like for our children’s children…They get to buy clean fish at the local hypermarket; there is no doubt about that. But then, they will be deprived of the real joy in getting a first hand experience such as like the one we had…. (Research has found that all fish are diminishing and there will not be any more fish for us to eat in 40 years).

Who then should be blamed?