Discount and rebate at POPULAR bookstores nationwide..

My latest book has been shortlisted in the POPULAR bookstore's choice and a 20% discount and rebate is given at all its branches nationwide.

This offer is valid beginning 6th August until 7th October 2010. Please click here for the link. Readers are welcomed to get the book at your nearest POPULAR bookstore branch.

Some more information about the book....

"Puteri Di Alam Fantasi" (translated as ‘Princess in Wonderland’) is a book intended to sow seeds of appreciation and to inculcate amongst our youngsters, the love and care for this earth we live in. Hence, the need to be involved with efforts in sustaining it. Also the importance of caring for another fellow human being as well as others. All for the sake of our Creater i.e. God, none as Exalted as He is.

For those Malay Language readers who have finished reading this book, I would appreciate very much if you could make some comments and evaluation of the book at the publisher's portal (PTS) here... As a writer, it feels great to be able to gather feedbacks from readers (be it good or bad).

Although this book is for children, adults too may contemplate and ponder over the message that the book was intended to deliver...the idea and concepts were based on “Alice in Wonderland” with trimmings and touches of good values, to nurture goodness in the minds of our young readers…

God says in the Quran:

وَ مَا أَرْسلْنَك إِلا رَحْمَةً لِّلْعَلَمِينَ‏
“We sent thee not, but as a mercy for all creatures..” (Al-Anbiya’/21: 107)

Wasn’t the coming of Islam and also our Rasul (peace be upon him) none other than as Rahmatan Lil-‘Alamin?

God knows best…

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?

Still so happy together…

September. Brings back all the memories at the back of my mind. Happy days and sad moments. 30 years….is a long time. That is how long we have been together. My other half and I.

The day before our anniversary, we sat next to each other, shoulder to shoulder, in a train. Enjoying each other’s company, watching the scenery. All the way from KL Sentral to Parit Buntar.

Along the way, there were so many things to see, to laugh at, to reminisce. At Ipoh, I recalled the train would be full of white clad boys (from STAR - where else?). The residential school where my husband hailed from. Some of the experiences on the train rides during school holidays decades ago, I have shared in my book Seungu Lavendar.

We passed by Bukit Berapit where the station is in ruins now. All dilipidated and in a sad state. But I could recollect the time when back then, the station was still intact and functioning; N, a hostel mate of mine (when all of us Tunku Kurshiah College, Seremban girls were on our way home up north, sleeping in chartered coaches in the year 1974), winked from her deep sleep in the middle of the night. Thinking that it was nearing her stop, N threw her luggage out the door of the train which was slowing down momentarily. Before we could stop her, she had hopped down from the train. If not for the shouts from the KTM man on duty, asking her what was she thinking, which of course startled her and caused her to wake up from her state of delirium and scrambled frantically back up the coach, I think she would have been stranded all alone in the pitch darkness and jungle, in the middle of nowhere. From then on, we took the liberty to take on the incident as a subject for N to be teased about. Naughty us!

At a certain stop called Pondok Tanjung, what a sight to behold! It was as if time stood still. As though we were caught in a time tunnel of the 1950’s. Especially the rustic quarters, children waving, smiles from wrinkled faces holding onto their motorbikes, patiently waiting for the train carrying us to go by, at the tiny railway crossing. Must remember to get hold of a few pictures, next time…

And then, another delightful sight - Tasek Merah. Looking out through the window, one has the impression that one is flying across the lake, as the track cuts right across the serene waters….my heart involuntarily sang to the melodious tune of the 1967 song, “So Happy Together”.

It was just wonderful! All praises be to God. What a great way to spend one’s 30th wedding anniversary….Thank you, Allah. I pray that God would allow us to grow old gracefully, the same like as this kindly soul, a friendly visitor of my blog who happened to hop by (admire his sincere efforts, good work and having spent a fruitful life) just celebrated…(for theirs is 45 years…Subhanallah….)

Interesting site about Malaysian trains and its history, click here..

'Sweet' mishap...

“We have to get out! Out! Right now!” cried my husband, turning his head to our children seated at the back of the car, amid the smoke puffing out of the car engines.

“My neck hurts,” said our daughter, scrambling out of the seat.

“What’s this? What's happening?” cried our young son, waking up from his sleep.

I was too numbed to say anything.

Just then, I heard a friendly voice, “911 paramedics. Are you all right?” Hands were everywhere, soothing, calming. Asking where it hurts.

“Everything seems to be okay! We would suggest you to get to the nearest hospital, just in case,” said one of the paramedics, gathering up all his things.

“I think we will be all right,” said my husband, still dazed.

The paramedic lifted his hat, as a sign of respect and was gone.

“Someone must have called them in the nick of time,” said someone in the little crowd that had began to gather around us.

“Are you hurt?” said a young girl, her face veiled with the look of concern, “Here bro! Call mum and dad!”

“Yeah! I just did! They’re on their way,” said a young boy, apparently the girl’s brother. They must have been traveling together with the elder sister behind the wheel of the van.

“Let me take a look at your driving license. Yeah! You and you!” said a police officer, looking at my husband’s face and then to the young girl. Both handed in their licenses.

“Good thing you had the insurance with that rented car. Cannot imagine the mess you will be in without it! Here is your report. Get to the nearest agent and you will get another car as replacement,” the police officer quipped and was then on his way. But not without making sure that all is well and everything was cleared. All these were settled in a jiffy.

(I was attached to the University of Calgary doing research at the Engineering Department for 3 months, sponsored by Asian Development Bank , back then in 1993. My family joined me during the last 2 weeks of my stay. We had traveled up north from Calgary to Edmonton, enjoying the tranquiities of landscapes, through the rolling wheat fields of the Canadian Prairies across the Saskatchewan River , then to Jasper, putting up the night in a log cabin at Pocahontas ; then passed by the spectacular Columbia Icefields stopping to take a ride on the Snowmobile, taken pictures of scenic turquoise waters of Lake Moraine (the most photographed lake in the world), spending nights at Lake Louise and Banff. We continued south west to Kelowna, further on to Vancouver, brought the rented car we were in onto the British Columbia (BC) Ferries across to Vancouver Island. From there, we ventured to Penticton enjoying the enchanted fruit farms of Lake Okanagan along the way. (The settings of this journey of which I shared in my novel “Beautiful Daffodils”) To save up on accommodation, most of the nights throughout the journey, were spent at International Youth Hostels of which we became members for a year.)

On that unfortunate day of the accident, at a small city called Vernon, we were on our way from Penticton back to Calgary i.e. our last leg of our journey which was a 7 hours drive. All the traveling must have taken its toll. My husband, after driving for more than 3,109 km, overall 38 hours day by day, spanning the 8 days of journey across the Canadian Rockies through the two states of Canada (Alberta and British Columbia) within a few days must have been overwhelmed with fatigue. My housemates said that we were crazy because they had been in Canada for two years and the furthest to the west they drove to at that time was as far as Waterton Lake Park . While my husband had just arrived a few days before. But we were adamant with the trip, to go through the adventure awaiting us...

Back to the story, the young girl was mothering my two children, constantly asking how they were, offering drinks and snacks.

I was looking at our rented car. Its hood, a total wreck! The van which we hit right in front of us was hardly dented.

“There they are!” said the girls brother, pointing to another car that was veering to the side of the road.

“Hi! I am so sorry that this happened!” said the father, getting out of the car, his hands held out to my husband's.

“No. It was entirely my fault. I must have been distracted for a second," said my husband, his hands grasping the fingers of the pleasant and nice man.

“You must be on holiday. I know how bad you must feel!” said the mum, as she too held out her hand to mine.

“Here! Let us send you to the nearest agent so you may be on your way!” said the dad.

And the next instant, we were at the counter of the nearest car rental agent, holding the keys to another rented car to replace the battered one.

“We have been to Malaysia before. Beautiful country. Hope you will enjoy the rest of your holidays here in Canada!” said the kind, old gentlemen, after asking us where we were from. The rest of his family were smiling their hearts out.

“Tell you what! Let us have our photos taken!” said he.

And so, I took one using our camera, while they had one taken too using theirs.

What a stark contrast to, about the same situation which my other half and I encountered barely three weeks ago, near our friend’s residence. That will be my next entry. After reading it and this present entry, please tell me what you think, okay?

Sustaining the environment’s natural beauty (2)…

“Have you heard of Beatrix Potter, the author?” said the English lady, full of enthusiasm.

“Yes! I love her books! Books written for children. And her drawings! Simply enchanting!” I said.

“Indeed! She is the lady I am telling you about! Imagine the path that led her to eventually make a turning point in her life. It took on a new beginning and a new meaning from then on.”

“A new beginning?” said I, a bit puzzled.

“Yes! Something happened which made her decide to start a new life at the Lake District. The beautiful place preserved as it is, till now!”

“What did she do?” I said, turning in my seat, so I could look straight at the english lady’s face.

“She followed her heart and moved to the Lake District. Settled down at a quiet place called Hill Top Farm. Then, because the region was threatened to be taken over by industrialists keen to develop the surroundings, she involved herself actively in the meetings held in the midst of the community. When she realized that the farmers were in grave danger of being wiped out of their livelihood, because of their poverty, she began purchasing the plots of land. She even paid the farmers to work on the pieces of land she acquired so they may continue with their farming.”

“She has a good heart,” I said.

“Indeed! She bought more than 4,000 acres of land through the royalty which she received from her published books. When she died, she bequeathed all her takings to the National Trust, an indepedent body entrusted to preserve the beauty of the area. Up to this present moment in time,” said the english lady sitting beside me in the coach.

“No wonder, the Lake District is as beautiful as it was in her times and remains a popular tourist spot to this day.”

“Exactly! Why don’t you watch the movie Miss Potter. A film based upon her life!”

I was quiet for a while. It has never crossed my mind that through writing, a woman can single handedly sustain a portion of our beautiful earth. Beatrix Potter has left a legacy. To be enjoyed by future generations, for years to come.

I got hold of the DVD during my sabbatical leave that year. These words by Miss Potter continue to haunt me. I would like to share them with you here:

“There's something delicious about writing the first words of a story. You can never quite tell where they'll take you. Mine took me here, where I belong.”

~Beatrix Potter~ (1866-1943)
(quote from the film ‘Miss Potter‘)

(PS. The first image was taken from here.)

Sustaining the environment’s natural beauty (1)…

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” said the English lady sitting beside me.

Jolted from my daydreaming, these words gushed from my lips, “Yes! Captivating! The Peak District has hardly changed at all!” My eyes roved to the lady, who may have been in her late thirties.

“You have been here before?” said the lady sounding very interested.

“Yes! I used to study here about 30 years ago. It is only now that I am able to come back.”

“You are very lucky!” she said.

We were on our way from Manchester to Sheffield. The train tracks between the two cities were under repair. Passengers going down south from Manchester needed to board a coach from there. Then change onto trains midway i.e. upon reaching Sheffield. Along the journey, the coach meanders along the mountainous beauty of the Peak District. I was mesmerized by the exquisite scenery. The undulating fields, foliage and living things.

“You, a tourist?” asked the lady again.

“Not actually. I am on leave but still engaged in some work,” said I. Noting the frowns on her forehead, I let out a laugh and then said, “I am on leave from my normal work back home but am presently doing some research here in this country of yours. How about you?”

“Is that so? I am on my way back home. Actually, I was attending a Christian convention until I received a phone call saying that my mum has suddenly taken ill. So, I decided to cut short on my stay and head straight home,” said the lady.

“Where to?”

“To Scarborough.”

“Oh! That reminds me of a song which I used to listen to when I was little,” said I jokingly.

“Yes! Scarborough Fair!” said the lady, laughingly tossing her hair around.

“Parsely sage, rosemary and thyme. By Simon and Garfunkel, right?” I said gleaming a broad smile.

“You should come to the place!” said she.

“If I have the time, then certainly I would try to.”

“There is one more place that you should pay a visit,” said the woman. This time, in earnest.

“Where would that be?”

“Lake District. A real beauty! Well preserved. Just like it was, a hundred years ago.”

“Yes! I was there once. But not this time though.”

“You want to know who played the most important part of sustaining and preserving the place?” said the English lady, turning her body around in her seat, as though wanting to tell me, face to face.

“Not really sure, but I certainly would love to!” said I, showing my interest.

“A woman. An author of children’s books. Here is the story…”

(To be continued...)

Amidst the dunes….

“So! You’ll be doing the sand dune bashing?” said the young man sitting beside the Pakistani driver behind the wheel.

The four wheel drive we were in, was purring momentarily at the campsite, the wheels of which were let loose of the air several kilometers at the entrance to the desert. The coldness (18 degrees Celsius) was pinching my skin.

“The what bashing?” I asked, taken by surprised.

“You know! Riding in this, across the dunes,” said he, glancing to my other half, sitting directly behind him.

“Whatever!” I said, still quite confused and throwing a frown to my hubbie too, who was busy setting his camcorder.

“My wife and the two boys are not! That’s why they’re getting off here. But I think you should give it a try,” he continued.

“Okay!” said I, tilting my head, looking out of the window. Yonder, small shrubs thrived on the undulating sands, the colours of which reminded me of demerara sugar.

The driver of the four wheel was blowing his hands, smiling gleefully.

And then…it all started. The 4 x 4 vehicle, cranked its way through the wobbly dunes. My tummy felt a bit quizzy as the machine headed towards the main road. A few kilometers, then it careened to a stop, beside a fenced up area, overlooking the desert.

From afar, we could see the horizon and the beautiful, rolling sand dunes…

“There are plastic bags just at your sides. Seat belts on? All set and ready? Here we go!” said the driver.

Just then, the engines roared. And, immediately, I remembered! The look! The cheeky grin and the bright shine in the eyes of our host (Lil, my junior at TKC– sweet wifey of PP, my hubby’s schoolmate, we spent some time last week at their superbly serene abode, at their invitation) when she sent us off, outside her abode.

“Enjoy yourself!” said Lil, her eyes twinkling a naughty smile.

When I lifted myself into the Toyoto Landcruiser that came to pick us up, little did I know then, what was in store for us!

The desert safari… The journey had only just begun…

We were all smiles and giggles at the start. After a few minutes, everyone was absolutely quiet. My eyes were rolling. My stomach in tune with the twists and turns. My head getting giddier than ever as my fingers held on tight to the seat belt. The tough 4x4 continued to spur on, up the slopes and then speeding down, careering here and there, sometimes slipping sideways, bringing bursts of sands, splashing onto the glass windows. My heart was beating as fast as the wheels of the ‘beast’ we were in.

“Are you all right? Your fingers are so cold!” said my beloved, his fingers clasping mine.

I nodded, my eyes narrowing. The ride seemed like forever. My heart was screaming, “Oh! When will all this end?”

At the final moments of the half hour ride, I was already burping and trying hard to hold down whatever that was slowly creeping up my throat. My hands were already clutching the little piece of blue plastic bag, at the seat pocket just in front of me.

Just then, “Right! We stop here for a while. Watch the sunset. And you may take some pictures,” said the driver.

I heaved a sigh of relief. But my head was really heavy and I was trying to hold myself steady when we got down.

“Boy! That was some ride! I was beginning to feel dreadful!” said the other passenger.

“So do I!” said I, trying to keep my balance on the soft, fine sand.

The sun was setting. The most magnificent orange…Glory be to God! We had our pictures taken, my beloved and I. With the help of the other passenger. How lovely!

Then, we proceeded back to the camp. I was wincing again when the ride started to get rough…At last! We reached the camp. Certainly felt better after sipping some herbal tea.

My husband came running, saying, “Here! Rub this! On your forehead and nose.”

“Where did you get this?” I asked, puzzled, looking at the small familiar bottle of 'minyak cap kapak' (ointment made from eucalyptus oil).

“At the stall over there. 5 dirhams!” he smiled. I smiled in return.

Dinner was fabulous, dimly lit lights, under a clear, starry sky …How romantic! A moment to be cherished…..

Thank you PP and Lil! Thank you for having us there. Your hospitality and kindness will always remain in our hearts….May Allah always bless you and the entire family…Amin.

As the sun begins to yawn…

As the sun begins to yawn..

Bowing its head,

Yonder, over the horizon...
And Ramadhan is fast slipping away..
Everwhere …smiling faces,
Saying graces…

For those who are steadfast
In their good deeds and in their fasts,
‘Newborns’ will we be…
From past sins we will be set free,
With new hope we will be looking,
As our new life is unfolding…..

But then again,
In some hearts…a certain sadness,
A certain coyness…
May we still be able to see?
Oh! Ramadhan! We miss you already…
May God lengthen our span
Till next year, we get to meet again..
Amin….


~NeenaUmi~
29th Ramadhan 1429

------------

To dear readers…
Your forgiveness ….I do seek….
And wishing you…

Eid Mubarak!


(Images were taken atop the Gunung Matcincang, a mountain on the island of Langkawi, 700 meters above sea level, overlooking the horizon at the Thai border…seconds before the sun began to utter its silent ‘good night’….dated May the 2nd 2008).

It is that time of the year again...

April…the month of joyous moments…A year ago, I was there…Feasting my eyes…buds sprouting here and there…purple and white crocuses, blazing pink and white cherry blossoms painting the sidewalks…SubhanAllah!

At this present moment in time…are they still like so? Or already wilting away?

Oh! I do love those long walks..alone in the woods and parks…bringing with me, my ‘little faithful friend’…

Click! Click!

Pictures…are all I have now. At least…Moments….frozen in time…especially those yellow blossoms, swaying their proud heads in the gentle breeze…

I wonder when it will be? That my fingers might get to touch… your gentle petals all over again?

Serenity…those vivid purple hues..

The sweet soothing scent…the calming, cosy feeling. How can one ever forget?

Lavendars only grow in the temperates. In winter, the leaves and small bunches of flowers at the end of the long stalks just wither away, leaving hardy branches and unnoticeable main stems. With the arrival of spring, tiny shoots start to appear again and stalks would begin to unfurl by the beginning of summer. Then in midsummer, the sweetness from the full longs stalks prevail the air… invigorating our senses, at times intoxicating…Subhanallah…

The fragrance is also supposed to calm you down. Put drops of the oil onto pillows and it will help one to relax, provide comfort and induce sleep. Bunches of the stalks are cut and hung up to dry around the house, propagating a freshly pleasant and welcoming tinge of scent. Cupboards and drawers lined with sprigs of the flowers or laden with portions made into potpouries would smell nice too!

It is with this spirit that “Seungu Lavendar” was written. To invoke sweet memories and past experiences. To share and propagate the essence of feeling good about something, someone, some places. That someone or persons were my parents. They had sacrificed ever so much for my siblings and I. I would not have been what I am today if not for them…Alhamdulillah, praises be to the Almighty…

The stories in the episodes of “Seungu Lavendar” were meant to inspire readers (namely young ones) to always appreciate the family, the place where we find solace, peace of mind as well as tranquility. To especially listen to our parents; to heed their advice and to look up to them as our role models and not to forsake their words. At the same time, the book aims to motivate children, especially teenagers to adhere to principles that may inculcate in them a sense of belonging, a targeted goal in their lives, to stick and stay focused on what they have decided to achieve.

Love your families. Love your parents too. Think twice before doing anything that may hurt their feelings. For they are the ones who provide you with comfort and are there for you through thick and thin. The prayers invoked by us as children are precious treasures. It is therefore incumbent upon us to constantly make supplications from Allah for them, especially more so when they are gone…

“Oh Allah! Forgive me and my parents and believers on the day when the reckoning shall come to pass.” (Surah Ibrahim (14): 41)

In Islam, the family unit is everything. It is the bedrock or the solid foundation for the building of a nation; a nation of which if based on the syariah, is one that is capable of propagating goodwill and preserve the well being of mankind…

Green, green grass of home… one small lesson

We were supposed to spend our time on a boat ride to watch the eagles soar and take their feed, to explore some caves covered with overhanging bats, admiring stalactites and stalagmites, stroke the backs of friendly stringrays and to enjoy the company of drifting dolphins…if we were lucky enough!

But it was not to be…My husband injured himself while bending down early in the morning. As a result, we had to forgo the trip. And maybe content ourselves to just getting second-hand information and share the excitement from my sibling’s mouths later in the day. To help relieve my husband’s injury, a well-known masseuse by the name of Pak N was called. A bubbly and energetic personality for a man past sixty.

From Pak N’s lips, I could pick up a few pointers which were eye-openers. Amongst them were that he reasoned out, one of the reasons why our generation are afflicted with so many modern-day diseases (diabetes, hypertension etc.etc.) is our disassociation with what is beneath our feet. The good earth. Yes! That is our origin. Like our siblings, we too should not forget them. Forge the relationship once again. Let our feet touch and embrace the green grass and the richly mineral laden soil; barefooted, once in a while. For the earth has certain kinds of unexplained mechanisms that may take away the toxins that are accumulated in our body. What with all the processed foods and far from natural things (additives and such) that we put in through our mouths nowadays. It is all the more important for us to make this practice a routine. Pak N then gave the analogy of how we humans nowadays are actually like a tree sitting on a rock (We wear shoes every minute of our lives ever since we first learnt how to walk. (Worst still, our houses are intricately lined with tiles, marbles… whatever! Except the natural soil..) Compare that with a tree growing on lush soil. Which of the tree would grow healthy and strong?

These verses of the Quran come flooding back through my mind…

“And Allah has caused you to grow as a growth from the earth. He will return you to the same earth and then raise you back to life again on the Day of Resurrection?” ~Nuh: verses 17 –18~

“We have created you from the earth, into it We shall return you and from it We shall bring you back to life again.” ~Thaha: verse 55~

Suddenly something dawned upon me. The memory of my husband’s late grandfather who lived to a ripe old age. He, who only had his shoes on for two occasions i.e. whenever he wanted to go to town for his weekly supplies or to attend the Friday prayers. Apart from that, he would plod the grounds around his humble abode with his naked feet, including attending to his padi fields and tapping the rubber trees....

So, my husband and I were jolted to our senses…We were glad that even though we were denied the opportunity to explore the caves and all, there was some form of hikmah from Allah for us both, to learn and to share. From that moment on, we vowed to make a habit of treading our bare feet, (at least ten minutes a day) on the green, green grass and the soils beneath them…for they are like our siblings too…to be touched, to be reconnected….

Maybe you would like to try this too?

The first signs of spring....

Spring is in the air. Winter may soon end. What sign may be more heartfelt than the emergence of green shoots uncurling from the earthy grounds. And then later on, bursting from the swollen green shoots are golden yellow heads of petals swaying in the gentle breeze. . Yes! None other than the daffodils! Lovely daffodils; their yellow trumpets and long necks bobbing up and down. What a pretty sight! And certainly a sight to behold! In the western part of the world, daffodils are symbols of hope and a new beginning. That is how significant the flower is to myself especially when embarking on something new i.e. in writing and while producing my first book “Dafodil Untuk Insyirah”.

What does one do when opportunity comes knocking on one’s door? When there is an offer to break away from the cocoon enveloping one’s life and to explore some foreign places in pursuit of knowledge, one should not hesitate and to let this experience of a lifetime go to waste. However, one need to always remind oneself to be cautious on factors that may divert one’s attention from achieving one’s goal and and to stray from one’s initial intention in the quest for knowledge. These include being wary of the things that may affect one’s identity as a practising Muslim.

Success becomes more meaningful and sweeter if shared with others. Thus, the experiences as an A-Level student at the Chesterfield College of Technology and then years spent at Sheffield undergoing an undergraduate programme became the backdrop of the story in this first book of mine.

The episodes in this book contain subtle messages and reminders to readers. Amongst them are the situations (which may be awkward sometimes) dealing and living with unreasonable housemates, the virtue of patience while trying to fit into each other’s personality and lifestyle, to inculcate courtesy and tolerance among occupants while sharing an abode, caring for each other and others, to remain focused on what one intend to achieve in one’s ambition, to be aware and to observe the syarie conditions in dealings between the two sexes, the eye-opening experience of mixing around with other students and people of different background, to be involved with activities at the local masjid and get-togethers, to be informed of the halal and haram in food and clothings, the right attitude when faced with challenges while trying to achieve excellence in studies, the beauty of friendship, being able to mix around with the locals without bending one’s outlook and basic principles in life, to adhere to decisions made by one’s own parents, to be tough and steady while confronted with tumultuous conditions especially one that may affect emotional stability and many more. In addition to that, the question of narrow mindedness of certain skewed family practices and incompatibility in background which still exists in the societal strata of the Malaysian community (of which there is no basis in Islam) is also highlighted in the story line.

In our life, we must always strive to gather knowledge, to enjoin good deeds, prevent evil and mischief as well as to lend our hands in helping others. Therefore, every effort, though very little should be geared towards this. In order for effectiveness, we must be and always remain in a group or a team. United we stand, alone and we will fall. For that, I have opted to become a member of Jamaah Islah Malaysia (JIM) and am an active member of JIM in the state of Perak. I have chosen to contribute in the area of writing and have managed to publish some articles in the mainsteam media, namely in the column Jendela Hikmah and Bicara Kalbu (Berita Harian, every Friday of the week), under the women’s wing of JIM (Wanita JIM).

Feel free to browse

http://jendelahikmah05.blogspot.com/ and http://wanitajimceria.blogspot.com/ to take a peek at the collection of beneficial reading materials in the repository contributed by members of the Kelab Penulis Islah, a pool of writers transgressing across the different states under JIM in Malaysia.

I would like to remind myself and other Muslim parents to always be concerned about the development and the upbringing of our young ones. Special attention should be given to those children of ours who are continuing their education whether locally or those pursuing them overseas. In preserving our identity as Muslims, the situation of the fish in the sea may be taken as an analogy. Living and swimming for years under salty conditions have not affected them nor made them more salty than the day they were born. Let us make the teachings of Islam in totality as the guide in our life and iman as our barrier from the onslaught of attacks and damaging threats from our enemies. We must continue to seek knowledge and may our lives be always blessed with Allah’s guidance as He is our Creator. May we all attain serenity in this temporary life on this earth and achieve more meaningful happiness in the next world which will definitely be our permanent abode, as promised by Allah, Insha Allah..

Wasalam...

Hues of Dewdrops...

These dewdrops of opaline hues…
Clinging on till their time is due…
But even in that tiny spell…
They do their best to dwell…
On their duty to dispel…
The rays dancing through their prismic crystal…
As such too we should do…
As long as our hearts still continue to chime…
And the early morning rays spill of sunshine..
When hark! Our ears behold sweet melodies from our feathery friend…
Then good deeds, helping hands we should lend...
True to our words as long as we can still stand…
While beneath our feet, this good earth lay…
Whose days too are numbered and ebbing away…
Just like the dewdrops which sit fizzling…
On edges of leaves so green and appealing…
And on petal rims softly unfolding…