Sunday, March 21, 2010

Just when I thought I was an Anuar Zain fan......

....... I happened upon this video on youtube. My kids were so tired of me listening to Lelaki ini that when they saw this video they kept wanting to watch it. She's so adorable and the facial expressions are priceless!


Friday, March 12, 2010

I have been tagged.....

by Naz and since I've never been tagged before I thought I'd give it a go! So here goes.....

The rule:

  • 1. Go to your photo files… select the 8th photo folder
  • 2. Select the 8th photo in that folder
  • 3. Post that photo along with the story behind it
  • 4. Then challenge 8 blogging friends to do the same.

As fate would have it, the picture I have chosen is this one!! Strangely enough, it's also a scenic pic.

It was taken one afternoon after leaving the office. I walk through the Company Gardens every afternoon to the bus terminal. I love the walk because I get my fix of the awesome sight of Table Mountain! Not that I can't see it from any other point, it's quite hard to miss, hehehe.

Being one to always have my camera in my bag, I couldn't miss the opportunity of catching a pic of this landmark in all it's glory, being covered by a 'tablecloth.' It's truly a remarkable sight to behold. A travel to the top of the mountain by cable car is a must for anyone visiting CT.

During summer one can see the car windows glistening in the sun as many people queue to take a ride on the cable car. The cable car rotates a full 360 degrees as it makes it's way to the top of the mountain. The view is mesmerizing and there's nothing like it!

These are the bloggers I am tagging:

  • Yani
  • KT
  • Shaheema
  • Tina
  • Dalilah
  • Elisa
  • Ida
  • Saya
Have fun!!

Thursday, March 11, 2010

The passing of an angel

I received the text message Sunday afternoon just before Asr prayers. When I saw her name on my screen I didn't think the message would deliver bad news. I was expecting, "Hey, when are you going to pay me a visit??"

But as the message opened, the words on the screen screamed at me! It took some time for my brain to register, but the look of disbelief on my face said it all! I burst into tears. My mom looked at me, completely taken by surprise, "What's wrong?"

NH's five year old son had passed on to Raghmatullah. Z had been diagnosed at the age of 2 with a rare form of cancer. Shocked by the news, NH and hubby took everything in their stride. Z attended regular visits for the next 2 years at the Red Cross Children's Hospital. Z's ill health prompted NH to give up her job to look after him full time.

He recovered fully until late last year when the tumors returned. Sadly, this time, the tumors were spread throughout his body. NH kept this news to herself until about a week ago. Perhaps it was her way of making peace with the fact that her son was dying, I don't know. What I do know, is that as a mother myself, I would not have the strength to bury a child. The loss would send me over the edge into an abyss of sadness.

I am in awe of her strength, her acceptance and her patience. What was even more amazing for me was that her patience had spilled over to Z. He accepted his condition with such maturity. Mother and son would never complain and it was as if they were in-sync with one another. She never left him alone and would see to his every need.

One thing NH remembers very fondly was that Z loved the way his mom smelled. He would often tease her by saying, "I love the way you smell mommy, I'm going to eat you up." And NH would offer in return, "But then you won't have a mommy any longer." Z would then say, "Then I'll just have to have one bite!"

Z died in his mother's arms just after Thuhr prayers on 7 March 2010. May Allah have mercy on his soul Ameen!


Tuesday, March 9, 2010

In my attempt to highlight...........

the abuse and atrocities children face at the hand of adults, I'd like to share this poem with you. It was sent to me by a friend just days after I had first visited the foster home. Strange thing is, she didn't know of my visit when she sent it!

Daddy.... It hurts.

My name is Chris, I am three.
My eyes are swollen, I cannot see.
I must be stupid, I must be bad.
What else could have made my daddy so mad??

I wish I were better, I wish I weren't ugly.
Then maybe my mommy would still want to hug me.
I can't do a wrong, I can't speak at all.
Or else I am locked up all day long.

When I'm awake, I'm all alone.
The house is dark, my folks aren't home.
When my mom does come home, I'll try and be nice.
So maybe I'll just get one whipping tonight.

I just heard a car,
My daddy is back from Charlie's bar
I hear him curse, my name is called.
I press myself against the wall.

I tried to hide from his evil eyes.
I'm so afraid now, I'm starting to cry.
He finds me weeping, calls me ugly words.
He says it's my fault he suffers at work.

He slaps and hits me, and yells at me more.
I finally get free and run to the door.
He's already locked it, and I start to bawl.
He takes me and throws me, against the hard wall.

I fall to the floor, with my bones nearly broken.
And my daddy continues, with more bad words spoken.
'I'm sorry!' , I scream, but it's now much too late
His face has been twisted, into an unimaginable shape.

The hurt and the pain, again and again.
Oh please God have mercy! Oh please let it end!
And he finally stops and heads for the door.
While I lay there motionless, sprawled on the floor.

My name is Chris, I am three.
Tonight my daddy murdered me.

Friday, March 5, 2010

Here goes........ Part 3

Cooking some cuppies in the microwave went very quickly. But because they weren't being supported in a muffin tray, the dough spread the paper cup out wide. We ended up with big, flat cuppies, hehehe. But the texture and taste were there!

I also baked some in the mini oven, which was a bit of a mission because I had to turn the thermostat up and down so the cuppies wouldn't burn. I made on the chocolate butter icing in the meanwhile.

While we were waiting for the cakes to cool down the kids set up a party table with sweets, chips, cold drinks and biscuits. It's amazing how excited they were just to get the party started. The looks on their faces said it all! A reminder to all of us who take these little things for granted!

Everyone gathered in the living room. Once all the children were settled down, AH asked the birthday boy to stand up and everyone joined in singing him a happy birthday. Now they could get down to the nitty gritty, EATING! The children concurred that the cuppies tasted YUMMEH! The look of accomplishment on their faces was enough to make me realize that I had to come back and do some baking activities with them at least twice a month.

It was then that A and AH started talking of some of the children's circumstances and how they came to be residents at the foster home. My apprehension returned with a vengeance! As I sat there listening to AH recount the horrendous stories (I shall not divulge any stories here as they were told in confidence and I feel that our society has become desensitized by all the reports in the media. Sad to say that abuse has become an every day occurrence!) my mind struggled to comprehend what was being relayed.

Oh God, how I fought the tears burning my lids, but I could not relent. I personally know so many females who have been victims of molestation or sexual abuse and each one had a different way of dealing with the humiliation and degradation. Most, if not all of them had suffered at the hands of a family member.

Twenty years ago these tales were not spoken of because it was a taboo subject. Victims were not afforded support, the deed was never spoken of and everything was swept under the carpet so to speak.

On one occasion I happened to be present when a family member confronted her daughter's abuser. He was a minor (16 years old) at the time, so his parents were present as well. The reaction of the boy's mother eluded to the mentality of yesteryear.

Narrow minded.

Her words: "If it were my daughter, I would have said nothing!" I had to restrain myself from reacting in a very physical way!

The questions I ask is: 'Where does it end??'

How many more children are to suffer??

Is this the sign of things to come??

Is it going to get worse before it gets better??

Do we realize what kind of legacy we're leaving behind for the next generation??

What scares me most is that we are supposed to be evolving as a specie, yet everywhere are signs of the times of Jaahiliyah??

That afternoon as I left the children behind to go home, my mind wandered endlessly. A and MS helped me carry the baking apparatus to my door. I greeted and hugged them before they made their way to their respective homes.

As I closed the door behind me, I finally relented to the tears.........

I cried for the children's pain...... I cried for the innocence lost......... and I cried for the many more who are still to suffer!