KonMaried

After feeling left out, the unpopular kid in school for so long reading people discussing about shows they watched on Netflix, I surrendered to the temptation of consumerism and subscribed to the service.

One of the first shows I watched is of course, Tidying Up with Marie Kondo. There are so many polarizing sentiments about her, but I like this one insight about the KonMari method: she's giving you permission to let go.

I know a few hoarders in my life, I've always wonder what makes them so hard to throw stuffs away. Perhaps permission is one of the things lacking.

I like how Marie tells us to say thank you to the stuffs you are letting go. I never had any problem throwing stuffs before, but this mindful way of separating with your belongings is something new. Whenever I do any cleaning, it is almost guaranteed that I'd throw away multiple bags of stuffs. (I guess that's what happened to my teenage diaries. A past Fadzlin on a cleaning mission decided written proofs of teenage angst were too embarrassing to keep).

But now, rather than feeling sad of separating with my stuffs, I feel sad at the amount of waste I'm creating. The earth is not large enough for all the rubbish humankind create, and it is also the Muslim girl in me who doesn't want to be a friend of shaiton.

I guess the solution is to live a minimalist lifestyle. Although I don't know if I'm ready for the kind of image change where I'm wearing only a few outfits repeatedly, it is something that I can try?

Separuh Aku

Semalam, di group WhatsApp keluarga Kamil yang aku hanyalah pembaca diam, pakcik dan makcikku bernostalgia mengenai zaman kanak-kanak mereka, antaranya perihal dibuli jiran sekitar kampung. Pak Jo, satu-satunya adik kandung lelaki arwah Ayah bercerita tentang dia diugut akan dilaporkan kepada polis Singapura, dan mengadu kepada Ayah. Ayah, yang dipanggil Abang Don oleh adik-adik ketawa dan berkata, mana polis Singapura ada kuasa di sini.

(Abang Don kemudiannya berkahwin dengan anak polis Singapura)

Aku, teruja dengan memori pakcik dan makcikku ini, meminta mereka menceritakan lagi mengenai Ayah.

Semua pemahamanku mengenai Ayah adalah dari sumber sekunder. Dari cerita-cerita Mama, Mak Ina, Achik, Pak Busu dan kini pakcik-makcik ku. Susuk tubuh Ayah itu terdiri dari;

Kepala; yang tidak tinggi, apabila berjalan kaki ke masjid untuk sembahyang raya hilang ditelan jalan berbukit

Muka; yang manis bermisai, selalu senyum dan berjenaka mengenakan adik-adik, namun suka juga merajuk

Bahu; yang mengeluarkan kudrat mengerjakan kebun Atok Kamil, tidak pernah lupa untuk balik semasa cuti semester dari UKM untuk membantu berkebun

Tangan; yang pandai memetik gitar, dengan lagu-lagu Elvis Presley

Kaki; yang mengayuh basikal menghantar orang-orang kampung ke mana-mana mereka mahu pergi

ya Allah, peliharalah susuk tubuh Ayahku ini. Jauhkanlah ia dari azab kubur dan api neraka, dan suatu hari nanti, Kau temukanlah kami berdua akhirnya di syurga.

Pengasih

I don't know whether this is a sign of a sick heart, but I can't find my heart moving hearing sermons. I have so many excuses, and I don't know if these are also signs of a sick heart - the preachers are too loud, they are too judging, the topics are always the same..

I don't know if I've strayed too much, I can't find a connection with people loudly claiming to fight for the religion. I find them too judging, too harsh. Perhaps it says too much about my heart that I am even judging them like this.

If it wasn't for some scholars who preach for the same tolerant sentiment as my heart agrees to I would definitely believe that I've strayed too far from the path.

Oh Allah please have mercy on me. I am having a crisis from being surrounded by contradictions. I want to be closer, I want my heart to be softer, but I find it hardening even more reading up harsh posts by people of the faith even in light of tragedies.

Lately I've been remembering the story told by Sh Hamza Yusuf, of a Muslim flight attendant who had to serve liquor, but she used her left hand - trying her best to adhere/defy.

This remembrance is brought up because, after a long moment of feeling far away, I was almost moved to tears listening to a song, which was composed by a singer before his 'hijrah'. The song, pleading mercy from The Most Loving, for humankind who are in desperate need of a guidance back to the straight path.

Feeling desperately a sinner for feeling far away, I relate so much to the song. Even when I am sinful, especially when I'm sinful, I am desperately in need of His mercy. What does it say about my heart when I am moved more by a song than a sermon?

I don't know.

A Wall

The world is always a challenge when you're a youth, but lately I feel that things are a bit harder for them.

I remember being 17, 18, 19, ... 22 all the years of being foolish, hormonal, out of place, unprepared. The days of questioning your feelings, feeling unfit in your own clothes. Luckily for me, the days of feeling unsettled were rare... and I had a great support system (here's a shout to Mak Ina & Achik. only Allah can ever repay).

Now that I am teaching the youths, I feel unprepared still. This time of not knowing how to support them, especially emotionally. I know firsthand how devastating emotions can be.

Yesterday was my last class with a group of students, that I am also an Academic Advisor of. I have to admit, now that I've been teaching for five years, it is harder for me to remember names and faces. I always feel guilty because of this, especially because these students are supposed to be my 'children'. I feel that I haven't done enough for them, didn't connect as much. I am not the most 'hip' lecturer, I think students mainly remember me for being stern. But I do want them to know that I can be there, even beyond asking me academic stuffs.

So yesterday, I just wanted so much to hug them. I hugged all my female students, telling them things are tough, but they can hang on. They can overcome. It is the last week of the semester, and these poor souls are saddled with due dates and tests. Some were awkward with the hug/touch, but there were those who cried. How heavy their emotional weight must be.

Today is my birthday. Looking back from the position of being thirty-something, I could see myself telling my younger self that: your early twenties would be one of the most challenging periods of your life, but hang in there.. things do get better.

I wish I can assure the same to my students. I wish I am more equipped with the right skills to be a wall of support.

The One

going 5km/hour
suddenly i'm in your orbit
always facing and watching,
the bright side of your moon

i was trapped within your gravity,
lacking velocity to escape you,
suspended

then i ran, as fast as the speed of light!
catching up with you,
stopping time just for the two of us

bright stars on a plane, we floated together in space.
but we were two bodies,
and i couldn't keep you
from drifting away

heart broke into dusts
sucked into void of a black hole

extinguishing any light. 

Raya Reflections

There's nothing like Hari Raya to make you realize the passing of time. Your younger cousins are older and taller, some have finished school and start working, some have produced even more offsprings... Hari Raya is also the dreaded moment where you are asked the same old question, when are you getting married? People feeling a sense of deadline on my eligibility of getting married the older I get.

During Ramadan, I do felt a sense of anguish that I might end up alone, and I made du'a, for me and my single close friends and families that Allah grant us a befitting spouse. I thought I'd need a companion especially in my older days, perhaps a nuclear family that can take care of me in my later years. Mama made me realize though that we should rely only on Allah, that Allah is actually our Greatest Carer.

Alhamdulillah for my Mama, who is always reminding me of the important things, and my greatest defender when people question me why am I still unmarried.

Being a practical Fadzlin though, I can't help thinking of a possible future where I need to take care of my own self. As much as possible I don't want to be a burden to anyone. Part of what I can currently do is to take good care of my health. I've been meaning to go for a full body checkup and a dental checkup at Klinik Kesihatan Jasin for a while now, but I keep on postponing it. Today, I finally managed to make my way to the Dental Clinic.

I felt like a criminal surrendering myself to the executioner because it has been years since I last went to the dentist. Alhamdulillah the doctor was extremely nice, she matter-of-factly explained that I need to have my wisdom teeth removed, all four of them. She asked whether we can set an appointment for the surgery, and I freaked out inside! but outside I'm all Fadzlin Baru © and acted adult-like, agreeing on a surgery date. I had a scaling procedure done too, with not too much wincing.

Oh, it was all free. One of the perks of being a gomen worker. Alhamdulillah.

Selamat Hari Raya from me and Mama

Atok Ali(n)

I lost someone who has always loved me unconditionally, even when I don't deserve it.

Atok, I'm sorry for not always being a good enough granddaughter. There's nothing on this world that is deserving of you, I guess that's why you are there now.

Thank you for spoiling me with your love. In this family and our sometimes awkward ways of demonstrating affections, yours to me has always been apparent.

I pray that when it is finally my end, I'll have done good enough to be deserving of your company again.

Al-Fatihah.

30 Tahun

Losing one's father without being able to remember his presence at all.

When I was younger I wasn't sad, because I didn't have any reason to be sad. There was not a dad-shaped hole because I never knew him enough (I don't remember enough) for me to be sad.

With time the fact of a loved one's passing becomes easier to face. I think you never get over being sad, but it is no longer a devastating feeling that stays with you at all times.

With time I changed from not being sad to feeling a big sense of loss. He had passed away more years than he ever lived, and I'm missing his presence more than I ever had. I have no point of reference on how big this dad-shaped hole should be, another fact that griefs me.

I loved someone before. An emotional high that I didn't know I was capable of feeling. I don't know whether I'll ever feel the same way again but I am thankful for having experienced it.

I don't know what I'm missing with the fact that I am missing a dad. I have no reference, I have no memory, but I miss him, very, very much. It is not a feel that stays with me at all times, but at days like these it feels even more so.

"Ya Allah Ya Tuhanku, cucurilah rahmat ke atas roh ayahku."

Tradisi Bercerita

Terlalu banyak perkara yang diberikan oleh Mama kepada saya. Antara hadiah paling istimewa adalah kesungguhan Mama memupuk minat membaca kepada saya.

Baru-baru ini ketika di kampung Mak Ina bercerita tentang bagaimana dia akan membuka bermacam-macam cerita kepada saya yang tidak henti-henti menangis kerana Mama perlu kembali ke Pulau Pinang selepas Arwah Ayah meninggal dunia. Menurut Mak Ina saya akan diam mendengar cerita dan kembali menangis apabila dia berhenti. Saya terlalu kecil untuk ingat perkara ini, tetapi saya ada ingat Mak Ina bercerita kepada saya selepas saya menangis kerana Mama perlu pulang ke Kuala Lumpur (naratif yang sama) ketika saya bertadika di kampung. Saya masih ingat watak cerita itu adalah seekor kucing bernama McGyver.

Saya juga ingat sewaktu kecil sebelum tidur Mama akan bercerita, "bedtime story" if you may. Saya tidak ingat cerita lain, tetapi Mama selalu akan berceritakan tentang Arnab dan Kura-kura. Saya sangat sukakan cerita ini dan sentiasa meminta Mama mengulang-ulang cerita yang sama. Saya masih ingat, Mama mengisahkan kura-kura itu jalan dengan begitu lambat dengan bunyi "ketak, ketuk. ketak, ketuk".

Apabila saya sudah boleh membaca, it was like a whole new world opened up for me. Saya tidak perlu menyuruh orang membacakan kepada saya, dan apabila pergi ke kedai buku saya boleh memilih apa saja buku yang saya mahu. It was heaven. Trip ke Jasin tidak lengkap tanpa singgah di Koperasi Buku dan saya akan mengambil masa yang sangat lama untuk memilih buku yang saya hendak.

I think one of the best stories to tell is Sirah, and kisah-kisah Nabi. Mama used to buy me multiple books on it and I can still remember the illustrations. In my short-lived stint being a Sekolah Agama student in Masjid Subang Jaya, saya tidak ingat tentang apa-apa mata pelajaran lain (and there was a lot of subjects: tajwid, akhlak, khat etc), but I still remember the Sirah lessons. It was fun because we didn't have to do anything, cuma mendengar kisah Nabi Muhammad daripada ustaz, and he really was a good story-teller.

Currently I'm watching a series of lecture by Shaykh Yasir Qadhi on Surah Yusuf, and he said, this surah was a gift from God to Prophet Muhammad. Baginda baru saja kehilangan isteri kesayangan Siti Khadijah dan pakciknya Abu Talib. This story is meant to entertain the Prophet among many others. Kisah Nabi Yusuf adalah cerita Nabi yang saya amat suka semenjak saya kecil lagi. Knowing the loving source of it, I can't help thinking "Ah, no wonder" :)

Pada pendapat saya, tradisi bercerita dan minat membaca adalah hadiah paling istimewa yang boleh diberikan untuk seseorang. Terima kasih Mama untuk hadiah ini. I hope that I can give the same gift to someone in the future. Here, have the video I'm currently enjoying:

I Slayed My Demon

Do you have something that always seems much more larger than its reality in your head? Your own made-up demon? The last time I had something that freaked me out long before I had to face it was the BCG immunization shot at Standard 6. There were so many urban legends regarding the shot: broken needles, very painful, "BCG tak jadi" that even from Standard 5 I was starting to freak out. I think I was more afraid of BCG than UPSR when I started Standard 6.

But the day of the immunization shot was quite anti climatic. When it was my turn I was prepared to cringe/cry/show that i-am-afraid-please-be-gentle but there was a girl in my class that has learning disabilities, she was crying and refusing to be shot and the class teacher consoled her: "tak sakit, tengok Fadzlin tu senyum" so I had to smile when receiving the shot.

The shot was a bit painful, but it wasn't PAINFUL like what I was imagining it to be. It does left a very ugly mark on my arm though. Tak boleh masuk Miss Malaysia.

When I started my Master by Research, even before I had a research title, even before I started anything I was freaked out with the prospect of the viva. The dreaded defend your thesis session. In my head I was imagining the panels finding every bit of a flaw in every pages, criticizing everything and ending up with me sobbing my messy face into my thesis. Drama queen sungguh! But if there's one thing that makes me nervous it is being put in a spot. I'd rather write 10 pages long essays than talk in front of an audience.

Yesterday was finally my long awaited viva. And Alhamdulillah, I passed with minor corrections. And all praise to Allah, things were made easy for me. I wasn't overly nervous, (I think I was more nervous for my Defend Proposal than viva), when I walked in my external examiner greeted and hugged me, and then my supervisor came in and smiled.. it was very smooth sailing. The chairman, Prof Zainab who is the former Dean of my faculty also really helped in making me not nervous. Also my internal examiner. All four ladies inside the room.. may Allah bless their kindness towards me. I can feel their sincerity in helping me improve my thesis, they weren't looking for faults, rather they were teaching me where I can improve. It did end up with me crying, but out of gratefulness that it went well, and that I'll finally be awarded this long awaited Master title.

Victory!

MasyaAllah, all these teachers of mine really showed me how I should behave when I become a lecturer soon. May Allah grant me the ability to be as good as them and to inspire my students to be good too.

Finally, I am graduating!

How Not to Update Blog only when Complaining

.. you tell me, I have no idea.

Okay, not complaining. Lets see if this stays true to the end of this entry.

I am missing both my brothers who are not with me. Izzul and Aiman. Aiman severely so because he just left us last Thursday. Out of all my brothers, he is the one always poking his head into my room asking me what I'm doing. And also the one I argued often at the dining table with. I miss the heck out of him. I thought I am all out of tears, but then suddenly my eyes are wet again. He is in a very challenging position right now. I pray that God lighten his burden.

I was trying to find how to get him connected to the internet. Based on an info I got from a Yemeni friend of mine, I googled further and discovered more. Seeing as there is very little information about this on the internet I thought I would put this here so if anyone else has the same problem as me, he/she may find this useful.

HOW TO SUBSCRIBE TO MOBILE INTERNET IN YEMEN

1. Buy a special sim card from Sabafon called "SabaNet". This is a special sim to connect to the net, and different from the usual Sabafon sim card.  (source)
2. Buy Sabafon scratch card (top up card) in the highest denomination (Bronze for 200 Units at 2,300 YER ~ around RM 35) (source)
3. Choose which package to subscribe. The cheapest is 100 MB/month at 130 Units. (source)

Expensive considering how little data they are allocating. But seeing this is using GPRS technology it might actually be a challenge to finish up those 100 MB in a month.

This is the end of this entry. I didn't complain after all.

- Ahmad Jais

- Ustaz Pahrol, IKIM.FM

Rebus Rebus!

Rasanya sudah sampai masanya saya menulis entri ini. Sudah dua kali saya makan di restoran Rebus Rebus, dan kedua-dua kali saya dibelanja orang. Alhamdulillah, moga Allah murahkan rezeki Firdaus dan Pak Long.

Dua kali, maka saya sudah sedikit "pakar" dalam selok-belok makan di sini. Jadi saya senaraikan "walkthrough" atau "petua" makan di Rebus-Rebus.

1. Datang awal. Restoran ini buka pada pukul 6 petang. Oleh itu, bolehlah datang terpacak dekat depan kedai pada pukul 6. Restoran ini ada sediakan surau lelaki dan wanita oleh itu tak payah risau, boleh solat Maghrib dan Isya' bila dah masuk waktu.
2. Datang beramai-ramai. Sebab makan steamboat? Adalah acara paling afdal berjemaah.
3. Pilih sup. Rebus Rebus ada sup ayam, tomyam dan asam pedas?laksa?. Personally saya suka sup ayam.
4. Sementara staf Rebus Rebus menyiapkan periuk dan grill di meja, bolehlah pergi mengambil lauk untuk dimasak. Ambil: daging untuk dibakar (paling sedap!), mee "maggi" untuk direbus (juga paling sedap!), salad & sayur, dan bermacam-macam pilihan lauk untuk steamboat. Ambil juga, sos untuk dicicah. Paling sedap: blackpepper.
5. Kemudian masa untuk merebus dan membakar! Masukkan semua bahan steamboat ke dalam periuk dan bakar daging menggunakan marjerin.
6. Ini resepi saya cipta sendiri: letakkan marjerin, sos blackpepper dicampur dengan daging yang dibakar atas grill, kemudian keluarkan sedikit mee maggi dalam periuk tadi dan "goreng" atas grill. Sedapppp.
7. Bila dah puas makan, bolehlah pergi menyerang freezer aiskrim. Kalau tak puas makan lagi, ulang langkah 4-5.

Hasilnya...

Alhamdulillah kenyang..

Jadi dekat mana Rebus-Rebus ni? Bolehlah rujok peta di bawah.

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Memang sesuai untuk apa-apa acara berjemaah seperti reunion atau jamuan hari jadi. Oh, birthday boy/girl dapat free pulak tu. Dan boleh request ini!:

Bak kata Boboiboy: Terbaekkk.

Beyond the Veil

Yesterday me, Mama and Nadiah went to a speak by Syaikh Abdal Hakim Murad at IIUM titled "Beyond the Veil: Seeing New Realities in Islam". I attended a workshop by him before so I really wanted to attend this one too. Alhamdulillah Allah allowed me to.

We were a bit late and the lecture already started by the time we made our way to the lecture hall. Not able to hear the preface/introduction (or even aware the summary of what the talk was about) I was a bit confused and it wasn't after some time I started writing down.

But now that I look back at my notes I realize how insufficient, incomplete they are and writing them here will do no justice for Syaikh's lecture. There were times where I just stopped writing and just let his words soak in, times that I just have to look at Nadiah's face and saying yesyesyes with my face. Also there were moments when I feel stabbed one time, two times, many times especially when he was talking about human's obsession with shopping (and I just got back from a round of shopping with Rahah).

Basically his lecture was about how Muslims should oppose how the world is going now, which is a religion of consumerism, flocking shopping malls in order to buy stuffs (ouch), a lifestyle that is totally unsustainable. The rest of humanity is marching to somewhere really different, and this process of profiteering results in environmental destruction. Muslims don't accept that humanity are only here just to do shopping. We must be dissidents.

In regards to what is happening to Islam right now, instead of feeling despair and thinking that Islam is in crisis we should remind ourselves that things are really not bad. For example there is nothing like Ramadan in other religion, everyday billions of Muslims face Mecca for qiblah, our ibadah and rituals have been preserved which is a major achievement not of our own but because of the grace of Allah. Thus, we should always say "Alhamdulillah", "Thank you Allah".


We are freaking out so often because we are paranoid. Thinking that we are being attacked, that people are conspiring against us is paranoia. That was how the Munafiqeen felt and not the great Companions in Rasulullah's time. For the Sahabahs the conviction that "Hasbunallah wa ni'mal-Wakeel", "Allah Is Enough for me" carried them through.

Adding the collection of books I bought but haven't read

I feel really blessed with the chance to attend this lecture. While Mama told me that she thought Prof Tariq Ramadan's lecture we attended before was better I personally feel I enjoyed this one more. Mama said she already knows most of what Syaikh lectured, they are what a lot of Ustaz in Malaysia already talked about. I guess I just need a Mat Salleh from Cambridge with the most beautiful spoken words (like reading a book) driving home all these wisdom that we probably know but never ponder upon before, nodding yesyesyes hoping these words straight to my heart stay there.

Going back to Singapore

I just got back from a 3 days, 2 nights trip to Singapore. I went there specifically to accompany my friend who wanted to catch the Harry Potter exhibition going on at the Arts and Science Museum but we took the chance to visit some other places too.

I've been to Singapore twice previously. The first one was with Arwah Atuk when we attended a wedding of Nenek's friend. We stayed in Nek Busu Zai's house in JB and her daughter drove us there. Besides going to the kenduri we didn't actually stop anywhere else but I remember Atuk pointing out a complex as where he had his police training.

The second time I was there was to attend the Singapore vs Liverpool FC match in 2009. We had a great time being busy stalking following the Liverpool team to their Singapore river cruise, going to the Kallang Stadium, singing on our way back, making banners for the match. It wasn't really a sightseeing trip but we managed to slot a trip to Orchard Road (where everything was horribly expensive and I could only afford the fridge magnets).

This time around we actually had a plenty of time to spare. Plenty of time to study the MRT system and also finding we prefer the buses and walking everywhere instead. Plenty of time to look and soak the atmosphere, smile at the locals, chat with pakciks in the Sultan Mosque...

What can I say. The trip is full of me feeling ahhhh this is what Malaysia could have be too. If instead of Proton we went for MRTs, if instead of demolishing every old buildings in KL's Golden Triangle we preserve them for tourists and future generations (I am still bitter about the demolition of Pudu Jail) if instead of building another mega project we clean up the embarrassing mess that is the Klang river flowing through the heart of KL if if if.

Singapore will always feel familiar by the stories my mother told me of her childhood there. Of Atuk always buying murtabak on his pay day (we had the Arab Street's famous murtabak. I am convinced it is the same murtabak in Mama's stories), of the whole family going for Eid visits by bus, of childhood in the police housing playing with other children (or rather the other children not wanting to play with Mama because she cries easily), of Nenek's helping Mama to cross the big street on the way to the school and once she got Mama and Mak Lang safely on the opposite side then walking back home, of a house without television making Mama watching the drama Melayu from the window of their neighbour's house and of Atuk having enough of his embarrassing children and buying a TV finally.

Walking around Singapore I felt like I was reliving those moments in Mama's stories. It really helps that while there are impressive skyscrapers and modern buildings in recent years, they still maintain their old buildings, airport, HDB flats and old shopping complexes. It makes me feel that I am back to those days and some moments actually brought tears to my eyes. It made me miss Atuk desperately, thinking I would have love to see how dashing he must've been in his police uniform, and also a longing for Nenek Mariam who I never got to know.

Hasif dan Ayah

Makan

Terima kasih Mak Chah

Kucheng

Jalan-jalan ke PD

Some pictures I took (and edited).