Perfect Rendezvous

The moment we stepped in the Accident & Emergency Unit, my daughter started to whine. 

It was a fine Sunday. That Sunday was planned for a grocery shopping. A family of four, in a small car of ours, supposedly to be happy, changed our course from a shopping complex to a specialist hospital. What a turn!

My daughter knew it all too well: she was sick, she had high temperature and just vomitted her stomach out in the car. And now when I brought her to the hospital, she could imagine herself being constantly poked with the needles.

I shared her horrific detest towards the hospital too.

Apart from giving birth to Youssef nearly 2 years ago at this same hospital, and more than 6 years ago at Pusrawi Hospital for Sofea, all other experiences related to hospitals were just as gloomy as a morgue should be. Sofea and I were quite a regular at this Ampang Putri Specialist Hospital back in the years of 2006 until some time around 2008 to have Sofea's kidney problem sorted out. Then, in 2009, I spent my time as a dengue patient here.

Oh. I did not stop my fancy towards this rendezvous just at this particular hospital.

I was also a regular patient at Gleneagles Hospital for a few years started from 2007 when I first met Dato' Dr Mohd Husni Ahmad up until 2011 when he referred my case to University Malaya Medical Center under the care of Dr Siti Mazlipah Ismail. Along that period, I had another check up with one of the foremost Malaysian breast surgeons at the Gleneagles, Dato' Dr Suseela Nair.

Ahhh! If only I could use this information in my CV!

Tears were always my closest friends everytime I had to recover from sicknesses or from surgeries I had undergone.  Frankly, I could not see the floor clearly though I knew it was always too ready to accept my fall. Thus, I just did not fall down. Falling down was just not an option. Upon seeing this, other people saw me as a strong person.

Truly, I was not. Still, I am not strong up until today. It was just a matter of daily survival.

"I will hold a special prayer and Quran recitation for the princess to get well quick."

Came a message from my bff into my smartphone's messaging system.

Tears welled up in my eyes again. If only she could see my appreciation towards her actions. Gratitude is just not the correct word to portray how lucky I was to have her in my big circle of friends. Despite my ignorance and hard-headedness, she was always there with a smile so sweet and words so kind to soften my heart.

"My family will hold a special prayer for Sofea's well-being tonight..."

Came in another message from my sweet sister, Zaiton. I was already speechless towards this kindness around me. I did not reply her message immediately. Overwhelmed with her kindliness, thoughtfulness and sweetness. I thanked her with my utmost gratitude but I know my words were just extremely simplistic and monotonous.

Thank you.

Thank you for all prayers and good wishes from all well-wishers. From all friends. From all bini-bini perkasa. From family members too. Only God is ever able to return your kindness. Heaven awaits for people like you.

And I love you all.

"Mummy, why am I in the office?"

 Sofea asked me some time around 2am today, in her sleep. 

"Darling, we are not in the office. We are in the hospital," 

I chuckled in my reply.

She nodded and went back to her sleep... 

SWEET DREAMS SAYANG. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH. 

And so please help me God!

I am sitting right in front of her now.

She insisted me updating my blog. Day in and day out. I left this blog neglected. Unkempt. I felt that I lost my sense of connection long time ago. The time... that very moment when my extra time was robbed away from me. And after 6 long months... I am still struggling to have everything around me runs smoothly. Not according to anyone's expectation though. Just mine.

"You can easily be a good writer cause you can tell stories...you know how," she smiled.

"You are the only one who thinks so," defensive as always. Me.

"You don't have the DESIRE to write, you just don't want to," her eyes sparked a glittering sense of victory for being able to read my thought, to successfully guess my state of mind. And for that, I couldn't agree more.

But to tell you the truth, I disagree. Oh. What's new about me? I always have to disagree.

I want to write. Yes, I do.

If the world can be paused for awhile, and everything in it can take a leisure break from its madness, all I want to do is to write stories. And to read them too. Believe me. No shopping nor watching movies can overtake the desire for me to write or read.

I just don't have the time. And energy.

And so please help me God!

Come As You Are

She came and hugged me when I was sitting at my table.

"Teacher, Happy Teacher's Day!"

The hug was long and tight. I giggled.

"Ok, ok Aca...thank you very much!" Still, she hugged me tightly and didn't let go.

"Come on girl...thank you very much. Read your book, revise," I continued giggling. It was already awkward. She was still hugging me. Her head was at my shoulder. She then looked at me.

"Ok teacher, I wanna kiss you." She kissed me on both cheeks. I was stunned.

"Kiss me back, teacher" She smiled. I did kiss her back, on her cheeks. Still giggling, I said thank you, half-stunned but feeling fully happy. She went back to her seat.

She was the brave one.

When everyone was answering the Add Maths paper this morning, the class went deadly silent. All eyes were focusing on the questions. The struggle was obvious. And it was the perfect timing to replay the memories from the back of my head. 

This was the song that brought me into this world. It was Nirvana "Come As You Are" that helped me to gain a place in the course. It was an interview for a twinning programme for TESL. 

I was asked the reason why I wanted to be an English teacher. After all, I was a Science student. I told the interviewer that I love English songs. So they asked me to sing a song.  

I sang half of the song. With my ugly voice. The pitching was everywhere. But I sang.

As simple as that. 

I didn't go impressing them by saying teaching could change anyone's life. I didn't bluff them saying that teaching is a noble profession. I didn't know at that time that teaching could inspire anyone.

I wasn't even prepared for the interview in the first place. All I knew that day, my parents were waiting outside of the room, waiting for us to hit the road back to our hometown. And in front of me, four 'big' people, talking in English, asking questions related to my life.

All I did was answering them from the bottom of my heart.

"What if your students asked you about difficult words that they cannot understand? What should you do?"

"I will ask them to check from Mr Dict," they burst out laughing at my answer. 

Seriously at that time, I didn't realize that Dict sounded really like Dick. But, that was exactly what my form 5 English teacher said to refer to our dictionary. Mr Dict.

While some of them were still laughing, I remember one of them, Puan Rozana (God bless you always) said:

"Come as you are, Noorul. Come as you are into this world of teaching"

And I definitely did it!

You Belong With Me, Taylor Swift!

If you could see that I'm the one who understands you

Been here all along so why can't you see

You belong with me

Standing by waiting at your back door

All this time how could you not know baby

You belong with me

It was rather a tiring day today. 

Fate has spelled that I got to wake up late almost every Wednesday morning, sending everyone on their feet straightaway as soon as I realised I had accidentally dismissed my alarm and had overslept again. Hurriedly, my hubby jumped straight into the bathroom. My small family depended on me in getting up to school and work (yes, you had to agree with me this time, Mr Hubby).

Then, Sofea was quite easy to handle since I lifted her up from the bed and put her on the toilet seat and lifted her again to be put in the bath tub, under the shower. She didn't even have to open her eyes but she still had to brush her teeth though. She would only 'wake up' when I dried her up. So I did all those things so fast to catch up with time.

I put her in her school uniform as swiftly as I can. Once done, she would go down the stairs to have  her breakfast. The maid was already waiting. But the bad news was, her favourite bread went missing so she refused to replace the bread with any other bread available. But I couldn't entertain her today, I just shoved her into the car and then we sped to our destinations.

Oh! I am supposed to be on duty almost every Wednesday, handling the school assembly in English. But fate smiled cheekily on me since I am also late almost every Wednesday too. But luckily today, I managed to take over and dismissed the assembly on time. Phew!

The first class I went to was after the assembly. There was a rude boy who refused to follow my simple orders of getting ready for the exam. When ignored and rudely replied, I said to him very clearly and sternly, with my face made from Hell, and my index finger pointing to his nose level, "Nasib baik kau dijadikan sebagai manusia..." (luckily that you are created as human...) and how I wished I could continue saying: "If you were born as a pig, I would have shot you and roasted you well." But of course, I didn't say that. But the boy got the message anyway and sat down and followed orders. When you don't have enough counselling time, you just need to be a Mafia to have everything under control. Oh shut up! Save your opinion about education and role model. I had to start the exam on time.

Entering the second class for the day was fine. I anticipated that the boys would be noisy and non-cooperative. Yes they were. But they have been with me for quite some time now. I have known some of them for years. They too, know me a bit too well. So, when the roughest boy stood up in the middle of the exam to annoy his friends, I just knew what to do and he just followed the orders 'obediently'. The exam went smooth.

The last class for the day spelled disaster for me.

They were already answering their exam papers when I went into the class. Most of the heads were on the table. Some hopefuls were struggling with their answers. I settled down, sitting at the very back of the class so I could watch them over. I took out my red pen to mark my students' exam papers. But I saw my BB was blinking. A message.

"Why didn't you answer me?" My superior asked me through the message.

I typed the reason for keeping quiet. For the late reply. I apologised, of course. It was unintentional. I replied in lengthy. I pressed the send button. My BB went dead. Great! I took a deep breath. I hate this!

I tried to initialise the phone again. Failed. I tried again. It was successful the second time but I already got the second message. I think she went impatient with me already. I was warned for my inability to answer to her. 

"What is wrong with you?"

"Nothing," I answered. 

The phone went dead again. Oh, I was as dead as the phone. That short reply must have sounded rude and ignorant. My couldn't-care-less attitude shown. But that wasn't my intention. Really.

Then, there were voices of my students. One of them had gone out of the class in the middle of the exam. Oh great! Thank God for such a lovely Wednesday. After 20 long minutes, the boy came back to class. Smiling. Feeling proud. I smiled back. There was no use of getting angry to this boy. He was a gone case. At least he came back safe to class and was still alive. And he didn't bring back any corpse with him too. No dagger. No blood. No dagger with blood. Okay, everything was fine.

When the school bell finally rang, I went to a shopping mall, had my clothes changed, back into my car and played my guitar. I felt terribly tired today. And when the time was up for the next music lesson, my teacher asked me whether or not I was fine. Of course I said yes. (Oh, someone did finally ask me about how my day was!)

He checked last week's assignment on plucking and then he taught me some basic strumming. But I was quite too fast on catching up with the strumming, so he crammed three lessons into one. Then he gave me a new assignment for the week.

"Do you know You Belong With Me by Taylor Swift?" He asked cheerfully.

"Oh. Swift? No." I smiled meekly.

Actually, I know Swift's songs but that No was that... I just didn't want to rush. To move swiftly again? I think I need to slow down. 

Dreamy

I dream of living with all my loved ones in proximity. At the moment, my parents and siblings are all scattered everywhere in the country. Some are quite close, but very much distant by work and other private matters. I haven't seen my parents for quite some time now. I miss them very much.

Once in a while we talk over the phone, with my dad always passing the phone quite too quickly to my mum. And there is nothing much discussed except about my kids and my school work. Of all my siblings, I am the only one who works as a teacher. Just like my parents. Proudly.

I dream of playing good music to entertain myself. Thus, at this very age, where people start prioritizing something 'more important', I go back starting what I have started long ago but didn't finish. This time around, I will ensure that I gotta do what I like doing, and not allowing others to suppress me from doing it. Slowly and patiently, I will start from the beginning.

I dream of having all close friends together, very close with me, where we share our hopes and ambitions in bettering our lives. When any attack comes upon us, we have an unquestionable defense to rely on. Where we know exactly when to come to aids when any of us is in troubles.

I dream of a life without sickness. Physical and mental sickness. Sickness is one thing that degrades us from being our best. When we are sick physically, we stop functioning the way we always function. We try to accommodate the pain and try to ease the pain away, no matter what. Mental sickness is the worst of all sicknesses. Those with mental sickness can actually reach the stage where they stop being humans altogether.

I believe that a life full of dreams is a life worth living. Those dreams make humans humane. No matter how many dreams enliven your life at the moment, keep dreaming. Because you will never know when....

...your dreams are finally shattered.

Safe Return

Life is full of disappointments.

Not for me. I am fine. Life is beautiful for me at the moment.

I have a beautiful family, beautiful loved ones, a beautiful career [though how ugly people's perceptions towards my job are, that I don't really care] and a beautiful body [yeah, I am beautiful in the eyes of the beholder....my own eyes!]

But feeling disappointed is such an understatement when I heard about yet another news of abduction. The sadness shared here understates the extent of the real anguish the parents feel now.

Their only son was abducted while walking to school yesterday morning.

Vanished.

The father was crying while begging for the safe return of his son at a press conference. The mother was beside him, speechless. She must be overwhelmed with confusion, anger and sadness. She shed her tears. Everyone else there was seen shedding tears too.

How can people not be sad about this?

What kind of devils at work here?

 What good can we learn out of this incident?

I don't think we can do much about anything nowadays. Even if you lock your doors from inside, those lunatics will find their ways if their intention is to break in. If the aim is to abduct, they will do exactly that even if you guard your kids with armed bodyguards. But yeah, how many of us can afford bodyguards, anyway?

I pray for the safe return of this boy and anyone at all who is forcibly being taken away against his/her will. Safe return. It means without harm and still alive. Unhurt. Untouched. Undisturbed.

And we shall pray for this madness to be stopped altogether. Pray that our kids or family members to be safe, happy and healthy. Pray that everyone in this world has finally stopped envying others, so that they won't take what is not theirs.

Because praying is the only thing we can actually do now.

The Same Old Stories

She's been on my mind for quite some time now.

Whenever I have the time to speak to her during class, I will ask her a few questions. The same old stories.

But a whole lot of understanding towards the definition of struggle, happiness and sadness. I used to think that it is just impossible to live a life like what she's been living now. But she's the living proof. At least she is one of the many people who share the same fate as hers.

It all started when I noticed her staying in class with some rations to eat during recess. I asked her to go to the canteen to join other kids having their break. She politely refused. Between her smiles and silent giggles, she admitted of frequently bringing food from home to munch. And that is if she has something to bring. Always, there are some bread and plain water. 

So the conversation stopped there.

And it soon continued when I got to know her more. She is an orphan. The mother is unemployed as she is also unwell, receiving small funds from the government to feed all mouths in the house. Only few hundreds Ringgit Malaysia monthly for 5 members staying in the house in the middle of the country's capital city. They have nowhere else to go but staying put in this big city as the house is theirs.

That house is their only possession. Apart from having each other as a family. They survive. Happily so far.

I know she is not the only one. She isn't the worst. 

There are many others who come from broken homes, where there is no food at all on the table. Don't mention of having decent meals, even some bites are impossible. Let alone having some pocket money to spend. Some of them find ways to cover for the hunger by going to the canteen and "share" others' food by hook or by crook. They would normally ask, when ignored or denied, they would snatch the food from their friends' plates. They are normally boys.

Try to put your hungry kids at a table for a couple of hours and ask them to read and concentrate. Ask them to respond. Ask them to communicate, give ideas and find answers. If I were one of the kids, I would have fainted first, then, got up again and puked. I might vomit on the books, on my friends' heads and also on the teacher's feet. For all I know, it is quite impossible to study when you are damn hungry.

"Mummy, when are we going for the holidays?"

"There are many others who cannot even make it to the canteen today, you know?"

"Hah? What is that? What are you talking about, mummy?"

"Oh Sofea..."