SCOUT JAMBOREE LITE - fathers and mothers, sons and daughters...

Mikhail and his tent mates...

Jamboree Lite. Last weekend Mikhail went on what I might define as a scout jamboree 'lite'. From what I could reckon, there was no hikes, no campfires or anything too arduous for these primary school kids. I am not complaining, as like Mika, many of the children were just 10 years old, and possibly their first night ever under a tent. A tent, in a school field in Taman Tun Dr. Ismail, a prosperous suburban neighbourhood not far from my own neighbourhood. In fact, the school field is just across the road from a restaurant that I often go for dinner. So I wasn't too worried. He he he.

Mikhail and his huge orange suitcase. Just what you need for a camping adventure.
I can assure you that Mika's luggage was the biggest at the jamboree.
I saw some other scouts arriving carrying only their every day school bag and a humble plastic bag. 

Delinquent Parents. In the three days and two nights the scouts were at the "camping site", hilarious and almost unbelievable stories started to turn up on the school moms Whatsapp group. There were some parents who continued hanging around in the school compound way after the scout program officially started. Other parents trotted off to the (conveniently nearby) shops to buy additional food and drinks for their kids, whom they fear would possibly starve or become severely malnourished during the weekend. But perhaps, the most amazing story involved a parent who was seen to actually helping his/her son to shower and change. I put the words 'his/her' to be polite, but I bet it was the mum. He he he.

Finally, unable to stand the interfering parents any longer, the scouts' working committee from Mikhail's school issued a warning to all parents to stay away from the school and camping ground until they are suppose to pick their kids up on Sunday afternoon. If any parent is spotted in the school compound, the committee warned, their child will be asked to immediately leave the program.

I don't blame the committee, because, after all, Mika's school is only one of 5 (I think) schools that sent their scouts for the weekend camping program. I think most of the delinquent parents were from Mika's school. Oh the shame of it all... 

He he he.  

Exhausted but exhilarated. I can still recall such childhood feelings.

But most importantly, despite the attempts by mum and/or dad to totally sabotage the scout camping weekend, I think it went well. When I picked up Mikhail, he was tired and hungry, yet I could see he was also exhilarated by the experience. "I really enjoyed sleeping in a tent, Papa.", he said. "We slept at one in the morning and got up at five!", he added. "I liked the chicken rendang (a very rich coconut based chicken dish... so much for the threat of starvation) that we ate!" And happily, Mika is keen to go for more camping, perhaps next time, at a proper camp site somewhere in the forest. And I bet for that one, the parents won't be furtively keeping watch in the bushes nearby. 

But then again... you never know what mums can get up to when they think their offspring are at risk! 

God bless the patient teachers and scout masters, and God bless all crazy parents.

..................................

MH370, a Postscript -We all know the news surrounding the tragic event of Flight MH370. May all friends and kin of the missing passengers and crew of that plane, find the courage to persevere with hope and faith as they pick up the shattered pieces of their lives. And for the rest of us, we who mourn with them in this difficult times, we can only pray to understand the lessons from this incident, that it may make us a better human being, and a better Christian, Buddhist, Jew, Hindu, Muslim, Atheists or Agnostics. 

Because, after all... whatever the nature of your belief or disbelief, we are all still part of one humanity.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way 

BEAUTY IS IN THE EYES OF A WOOKIE - Mikhail, Gungi and Emina...

299. Learn to Listen

You must learn

To listen

To your children.

For though

They may be the one

Asking the questions,

In truth, it is you,

Who is also learning.

...........................................

My son, Mikhail is 9 years old now. And I guess like all children he is both curious and self-absorbed, both habitual and arbitrary, both learning and forgetting, resting and playing, and sometimes doing such contrary actions all together in a single moment. Sometimes he appears to be the kindest angel, while at times he can be overborne by impatience and confusion in a world where the adults say one thing, but do the exact opposite sometimes. I think it is tough being a kid, sorting out all the mixed signals we adults transmit in our daily lives.

When he is sleeping, I too get confused. I know Mikhail is Mikhail, but I when I gaze at him also know that he is me. And that a part of me and my kin is inside him. An epoch of previous lives making up part of what we and our children are. And I wonder sometimes, how shall we account compared to our ancestors, both the good and the bad, the beautiful and the ugly?

But what is beautiful and ugly anyhow? A young wookie may not be everyone's idea of the ultimate expression of beauty, but to Mikhail he certainly is. "But Gungi is sooo... cute, Papa!" My son exclaims. 

"Cuter even than Emina (Mikhail's malay-turkish cousin)?" I enquired. 

"Of course, Papa!"

Oh well then.

Listening in was Heche, and she unhelpfully interjected, "Do you know, Mika, we used to have a belief that pregnant woman who always looks at a particular person during her pregnancy, her baby will probably turn out looking like that person?" Mika's eyes widened, "Really?"

Heche, "Yes, reaaally..."

"In that case, when I have a wife, I am going to lock her up in a room with three types of food (Don't ask me why...) and hang pictures of Gungi all on the wall! Then I will have a baby that looks like a mini-Wookie! Yea!"

Heche laughed and simply commented, "I cannot wait to see how your wife will react to your plan, Mika."

Life is full of laughter and wisdom. And the ever-engaging personality of a 9-year old and his strange ideal of human (Wookie?) beauty.

alhamdulillah, sunshine!

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

Serendipity Growing in the Soul Jungle - children, parents, life and love

Cancelled. I was suppose to go to Pulau Besar (Big Island) today, off the coast of Melaka, the southern state bordering Negeri Sembilan and Johor. But this had to be cancelled, and I was rather sad about it. I have been wanting to visit the mystical isle for some time now, the last trip being perhaps two years ago.

Papa...? So I made by reluctant way to the office, but just before I arrived I unexpectedly received a call from Mikhail, my 8-year old son, "Papa, are you taking me out today?" And that kinda changed the day for me, so now I have a lunch date with him. It is good to know that whatever the mess I may be in anytime, however disheveled my schedule and my routines may have become, and no matter how gloomy the sky appears to be above me, our children can always be that bright spark, that golden light of a beautiful flower growing out of the undergrowth of our soul jungle.

Life may trample me underfoot through my own error, but Mikhail was no error. He is my own serendipity. And that is one of the best gift God (s.w.t.) and His Prophet (s.a.w.s.) has ever given me.

Are children not wonderful?

Have a lovely day, sunshine. And no matter if your journey is delayed or postponed. It is probably for the best in the end.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

OH GOD...! YOU GOT ME! - the arrow, the heavenly website, mikhail and the melodramatic father

My son need not 'score' to win his place in my heart. At his birth God has already scored a bull's eye inside me. It is my life's hope to be worthy of this arrow sent winging its way from Heaven...

Mikhail a.k.a. 'Mini Me'

Well, Mikhail did rather decently for his exams. At his age of 8, it is not necessarily the most important thing in the world to me, but it has certainly elevated my son's self-confidence, which is always a good thing, I doth think. Perhaps more so than any other creature on our planet, the relationship between parent and child is one of the most complex and sincere connection you can have with another human being. He (or she) is genetically and spiritually your own Mini Me.

It is tough being a parent. No training, no proper certification, not even a short internship to prepare us when the stork comes along with the little bundle of joy (which will soon translate into a large bundle of bills and expenses unheard of by the new parent, especially the father). We know we are not very good, and everything devolves into on-the-job training. So our real prayers always is that we don't cause permanent damage to our children. It's a trust thing, you see..

91. I, Wobot

Like a computer,

Every hour, divine programs

Are downloaded from the

Website in the Sky.

But it is when their elders,

Mess about with their codes,

That children become confused,

And they hang, refusing to reboot;

Ctrl, Alt, Del!

Ctrl, Alt, Del!

Have a lovely day, sunshine. And a wonderful Eidul Adha for our Muslim friends... God bless all children.

Damaged? No... my son just has a quirky sense of humour. In fact, if you look closely
enough you can see the fibre optic cable running from the top of his head to
the Heavenly Website upstairs. It is the same for all children.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

"This is the reason I have facebook...", says Mikhail

What are your children for if you cannot make fun about them? I posted a picture about my 8-year old Mikhail on Facebook with some revealing caption, not knowing that the little tyke sometimes checks up on me on Facebook... with these consequences...

Just a little posting (for now). See you later, sunshine.

May God always bless all the children...

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way 

God's Own Fool - courage is not something that can only be found in the battlefields

Take courage. Do not let fear cage your compassionate heart...

The Lord's Own Fool

"What have you given away?" The man asked his sister, 

looking at the retreating back of the beggar.

"I didn't have anything to give, so I borrowed some dinari 

that I might give to the poor man..."

"Are you a fool?" The brother hotly interrupted, 

To which she said firmly,

"I may be... but if I am, 

I am the Lord's own fool!"

................................

A friend of mine called me early this morning. She had just taken a loan to settle her outstanding credit card bills. But as is often the case with parents and their magical instincts, it was on this very same morning that the father asked to borrow a substantial amount of money from her. 

And she lent it immediately, knowing all too well that it may never be repaid.

People often talk of the parent's sacrifices for their children that shall never be repaid. But not every child put to practice such noble sentiments. My friend cried a little thinking of her own financial woes, and how there appear to be no end to her worries. "I must be a damn fool!" she exclaimed.

Indeed she is foolish. But if you would believe me, she is God's own fool. For God loves those who do not allow fear to stand in their way of compassionate fealty. Courage is not something that can only be found in the battlefields... It can be found in the exemplary conduct of people all around us.

May God enrich this world with our generous friends, sunshine!

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

Floating my Boat and Praying against Tsunami - Mikhail in the U.S.A. 2012

Mika with his Nenek in the City of Angels, California. Tired-out after the long flight.

Whatever floats your boat. Mikhail & Co have safely arrived in Los Angeles on Monday evening. I think yesterday they have already visited the Magic Kingdom a.k.a. Disneyland. I hope everyone enjoyed themselves. I recall a while back, driving to dinner with my 8 year old son and asking Mika which restaurant he thinks we ought to visit. My midget surly teenager simply replied, "Papa, whatever floats your boat."

So I hope Disneyland floated his boat.

He also said that when he finds Mickey Mouse, he was gonna kick him. So I hope that happened too. [postscript 2 hours later... Well, Mika called just now and my mistake. They haven't gone to Disneyland yet, so the day of reckoning for the giant rodent is postponed until Thursday. What they did yesterday was to gawk at the celebrities' mansions. As fate would have it they saw Simon Cowell being limo driven out of his house in Beverly Hills. It may have floated some people's boat but my son was quite unaffected. The trip to Universal Studios today, might just do the job.]

An earlier incident in Narita Airport... The flight from Kuala Lumpur to LA had a transit stop at Narita International Airport, Tokyo. As Mika was disembarking, he was accompanied by his grandmother, Nenek. But just as he stepped off the plane he suddenly stopped and whispered to himself, within earshot of Nenek, "Hmm. I am not gonna take any chances. Tokyo is famous for its tsunamis." Then he proceeded to pray a short du'a asking God to cancel whatever tsunami that might be scheduled to rampage down Tokyo Bay.

"I better not take any chances..."

Well, as it turned out, there was no Tsunami. "Safe and sound in LA..." I bet he is thinking. I hope nobody tells him that Los Angeles is a mere 40 miles away from the nearest southern segment of the San Andres Fault, a continental transform fault that has been the cause of many earthquakes in the West Coast of U.S.

Don't anyone show this to Mikhail.

Otherwise, I am pretty sure Mikhail would start praying very, very hard there also.

2. Did You Pray?
I cannot recall.

I do remember folding paper ships
And setting them upon the water
A gentle breeze from Qubruz came 
And carried them away

As I waved them farewell
I caught my reflection in the water
To find the face smiling back at me
Belonged to another.
..............

Have a lovely day, sunshine. I will, but I miss my son. I am told that he purchased a t-shirt for me already with his own pocket money. 

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

The Gift of a Child - a quiet introspection of a life enriched by children

91. I, Wobot

Like a computer,

Every hour, divine programs

Are downloaded from the

Website in the Sky.

But it is when their elders,

Mess about with their codes,

That children become confused,

And they hang, refusing to reboot;

Ctrl, Alt, Del!

Ctrl, Alt, Del!

.....................

My Son. This coming Monday, Mikhail is going to the U.S. of A. He will be going with his mother Gina and his Uncle Herman to visit his family on the other side of the world. He will be gone for more than 2 weeks. That is a very long time for me to not have his company.

Mika is gonna make a side visit to 'the happiest place on earth'. But for parents,
isn't wherever their children are, the happiest place on earth already?

My Friend's Son. My colleague Alexander was telling me that his son Eby has also become closer to him. Eby is only 4 years old but he is starting to hang out more with his father, now even refusing to be bathed by his mother. Alex asked, "Why Eby don't want to bath with Mummy?" to which the precocious kid replied, "Eby shy. Mummy girl, Eby boy." He he he. Advance kid.

Err... you bought this game for your 4-year old son?

R-Rated. A month ago, Alex showed me the Grand Theft Auto computer game that he bought online. He said he bought it 'for Eby'. I have played GTA myself a long time ago, and knew it was an R-Rated game with violence, street crimes, gangsters, sex, 'whores' and 'the hood'. So I said, "Err, don't you think the game is a little too mature for Eby?" But Alex had a plan - "Yeah, but I will let him only play the car-driving bit (where your character will be driving a car, van, truck or any vehicle he can steal from some poor sucker in the city streets). He loves car-racing."

But his plans had to be adjusted. For yesterday he shared with me what happened when his boy played the game. "Eby was driving the car when he crashed into a bunch of people on the sidewalk. He actually cried, bro! Eby kill people - he said."

We are sometimes so immunized by the depiction of violence, both real and acted, on TV, the cinema and the internet that we forget just what subtle spirits children actually are. They can have such beautiful and nuanced emotion, untainted by life's more hard experiences and lessons. "So what did you do?" I asked further.

"Well, now I drive the car whenever in the city and take it out to the countryside where there are not so many people about. Then I give Eby the wheels." replied my friend.

He he he.

Children and Education. Sometimes I think life can be hard for children. And we parents haven't really much training to educate them. Oh come on, let's admit it. We have had zero training. So while we ourselves are works-in-progress and undergoing on-the-job training ourselves, we are saddled with another small human being to teach and raise up into a decent man or woman. Good luck with that!

92. I, Wobot II

Children are not beta-versions of you

To be experimented with.

....................

But as I have mentioned before, I think our very own life education is only complete when we have to love and care for children, whether it is our very own, our nephews and nieces or even our pupils in the class room. And part of the lesson learned is that we cannot do it alone. For a child is such a precious gift, whose sensitive soul can be moulded (or damaged), that I always found it a relief to have an avenue to ask for help. And that as a man and a father, I have much to fix of myself. So I ask the One God, the Most Helpful Fixer of problems and the Origin of all good lessons, to abide by my son in His Divine Presence, with the Prophet Muhammad (pbuh), his Companions and Saints, and the countless angelic heralds of God. I have asked this even before Mika breathed his first. And I pray the support shall continue until he breathed his last and forever more.

93. Muhammad Mikhail

May he be a servant of God,

A lover of the Prophet,

A friend of the Angels,

A mureed of the Masters,

A caretaker of the Traditions,

And spring of charity

To all who may come to him in need.

Somewhere far, far down the line,

Perhaps he can also call himself

A son of mine.

That is my prayer for my son.

...................

May God abide by the children that is enriching your own life, sunshine.

wa min Allah at-taufiq.

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

Debts of Love we all owe - unwinding the past, extending the present, revealing the future

Our Elders: Oh Where Shall I Hide My Shame?

O' my Beloved God,

In the name of Your Most Beloved,

Muhammad Habibullah, Most Glorious Rose

In the Garden of Your Creation,

Most Perfect Light created before

The Pen and the Tablet,

I am asking Thee, for Thou

Have commanded that we

Ask Thee and no one else...

That if Thou have granted us

The foresight of knowledge and responsibility

Then for us, make it easy,

And extend a second beyond one second,

One hour beyond one hour, turn the day

Into a year of beautiful memories,

A year into an epoch of good deeds,

That we might give unto those whom

We owe much debt of gratitude and love

What they deserve, and that we are not

Questioned on the day when all deeds

Are accounted for - "O' Taufiq, when your

Elders become weak and enfeebled, when their

Limbs refuse to work as they used to,

When their mind is quiet and introspective,

When they are looking for your time and attention,

Did you give unto them their right?

Did you give unto them love and care?"

Oh, Lord... I fear Thy questioning of me.

Oh where shall I hide my shame...

Dear God, oh where...?

...............

My father (78) and my auntie (84) is living with me. And I have just realised that for the longest time they have nurtured secret hopes. A very human and reasonable want to go out, to have dinners at a restaurant, to go shopping, to travel and visit places they used to frequent in their younger days, to visit their friends and relatives, to have some favourite dish that they long missed. But they never tell me, you see. It is not my fault, is it?

Bapak (my dad)

This is me, bustling about like a mad man, running from work to work, writing for blogs, working hard for my customers, rushing in and out of my house, trying to earn a crust of bread and an amphora of honey, while all the while, my aunt and my father observes me with a contemplative and sad gaze. 

Mak Ndak (my aunt)

When I was growing up, they need not be told by me what I want or need. Regularly they have showered me with love, care, attention and presents, though I have done nothing to deserve their blessings, save for the simple effort of being born, and that too I really had not much work to do. I simply popped out of my mother's tummy. When I was growing up, my parents and elders have already the foresight to consider and plan for my future, years and years ahead of time. And now, here I am, not even able to consider five minutes into the future as to my father and auntie's wants and hopes.

Ah. That wise (and damning) words still rings true - A single father or mother can care and raise two, three or ten children. But sometimes, not even ten children can care for one elderly father or mother.

I often like to hide my foibles and weakness behind the station of a sinner. But truth be told, sunshine, this is worse than being a sinner.

I hope to change. I want to change. I don't want to meet God feeling all shitty this way. I want to make my elders happy. I reckon my mother, may God bless her soul, would have agreed.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

Mikhail and Papa-ism - children, parents and the Divine Names of God

O' Thou enveloped in thy cloak...

O' Thou Enveloped In Thy Cloak. I had a late chat before going to sleep, and as I walk into the bedroom I could not even see Mikhail, hidden as he was, sleeping peacefully under the duvet blanket. The sight made me recall one of the earliest verse of the holy Quran, when the Prophet Muhammad (pbuh) after seeing Gabrial (again) as an Angel sitting upon a throne that filled the entire horizon, ran home and asked that he be covered under the cover. But you know, God can be very persistent...

O thou enveloped in thy cloak,

Arise and warn!

Thy Lord magnify,

Thy raiment purify,

Pollution shun!

(Quran 74:4-5, Marmaduke Pickthall)

Papa-ism. Last night we went out for a drink, Mika and me. So yet again, the floodgate of Papa-Papa-Papa opened up... Papa, what is wrong with my computer? Papa, don't worry about it... Papa, I just want warm water... Papa, can I download a game? I am not hungry any more, can we pack this last three french fries? Papa... help me finish them!

On the way back I decided to see if I could stop this incessant Papa-ism and bet with Mikhail that he couldn't stop saying 'Papa' for the 5 minutes drive home. The bet was his pocket money for school. Every times he says 'Papa', he loses a day's pocket money. He lost his pocket money for today, tomorrow and Thursday. It is not that he didn't try -

Mika: No way... I am not going to say it.
Me: Say what?
Mika: Hahaha... you know...the 'P' word
Me: Oh yes. I forgot. What was that word again, Mika?
Mika: Hahahaha... I am not going to fall for that trick!
Me: What trick?
Mika: Ahaha... no way, Papa... I am not gonna say it!

(Epic Fail, as Mika would put it)

So Mikhail will go hungry in school, tough luck. But I told him to be nice to all his classmates (must be about 38 of them) and just scrounge a bite from each of them during recess period. He said that my suggestion was disgusting.

Dzikr. But to be honest here (and don't tell Mika this), I was somehow pleased that he failed to keep the 'P' word out of his conversation even for 5 minutes. What an interesting analogy we have here for Mankind and God, our Most Compassionate and Most Merciful Creator. I am pretty sure He would feel the same way too if his beloved servants (as we all are) cannot stop calling out His Name. Perhaps we ought to speak God's name as often as we can. But unlike the father to Mikhail, God will NEVER tire of listening to you saying his Divine Name (any of the revealed 99 names of God), Allah, Rahman... Rahim... Wadud... Qadir... Halim... Kareem... Razak. Muslims call this practice the 'dzikr'.

Go crazy in dzikr, sunshine. And you won't even risk losing your pocket money.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

Patience, Perfection and the Light of Muhammad - on the road with Mikhail

1. Just between you and Me

There will be people

Too wise and godly

Who will say,

“O’ Lord, she calls

Unto You

In poor speech.”

But just between you and Me, o’ seeker

I think you call on Me beautifully.

……………………….

Patience or Perfection?

I picked up Mikhail earlier today, and as we were driving the verbal overflow began from my 8 year old. He told me about the house warming party he went to on Friday, and that his mother recently purchased for him a new pair of shoes.

He may not look like much, but Mika can come up
with some pretty profound questions.

While on the way to the neighbourhood IKEA store, he asked me an interesting question, “Papa, which is better… Patience or Perfect?”

“What do you mean, Mika?”

He sighed the sigh of a 8 year old patiently dealing with a slow father and replied. “Papaa…, remember? Patience is better than passion right?” eluding to a conversation we had some time back, “...So which is better this time, patience or perfect?”

“Oh…, you mean perfection?” I clarified.

“Yeah, yeah. Which is better, patience or perfection?” asked the curious Mika.

“Hmm. Well I reckon that perfection is better than patience. But true perfection is owned only by God. But if you are looking for perfection in this world… then the best bet would be Nabi Muhammad (pbuh).”

He thought for a while, then concluded, “Yeah. I think you are right!”

……………………….

I know my son asks all sorts of question, and sometimes I wonder whether he actually understands the full extent of what he is questioning. And indeed, whether he can comprehend the answers that I try to give him. But an old soul dropped by a moment ago and said to me, “It does not matter, Taufiq. After all, who are you to say that even now, you fully comprehend what you are saying, thinking or even feeling?”

He he he. Yeah. I worry too much.

NurMuhammad - Light of Muhammad. That is why this evening I am sharing with you the above prose entitled “Just between You and Me”. Because the Me here is God, who unlike us mortals, fully comprehends not only what we say or do, but as our Creator, He is in complete knowledge of our nature – our strengths and our frailties, our passion and our patience, our highs and our lows, our good and bad. And while He sees us in our dire imperfection, for a strange beautiful reason, He still loves us and has the most incredible hope for our success. And for Muslims the world over, that strange beautiful reason is manifested in God’s highest and very first creation, the NurMuhammad (Light of Muhammad) of the Prophet(pbuh). As to what is actually the NurMuhammad is something inexplicable to me. What is the nature and material that makes up this first created light is beyond my understanding. What I do know is that upon the unveiling of the NurMuhammad, verily, God fell in love with His Creation.

Angel: I find your imperfections beguiling, Mikhail. When we asked God why
He created Mankind that is so imperfect in so many ways, He only replied
to us, "I know what ye knows not."

This Sufi parable is played out every day in our life. Especially if you are blessed with children. Such is the lessons we may learn in our difficult but often poignant and always beautiful experiences as a parent.

May God bless our children, and our fathers and mothers who reared us with love, affection and of course, patience. We may not be perfect, but to be loved by God and His Prophet is already the perfect beginning and ending of our journey in this world. It is strange how often we get distracted and forget this very simple truth.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way

What is Sociability compared to Saving Babies? - a trip with (retired) Dr. Dad

I was having my coffee in the morning when my father broke the silence, "Do you wanna follow me to Kuala Pilah (my father's hometown in the neighbouring state of Negri Sembilan)?" I paused, I looked to the ceiling, I look at my auntie, I checked my watch, I glanced at my brother, then finally I figured, what the heck... "Sure. What time do you wanna leave?"

The following pictures are some that I manage to snap during our trip.

We had brunch at the Nilai rest area, just one of many rest areas that dot the
North South highway which stretches along the entire west coast of Peninsular
Malaysia. My dad frequents this particular one because it is famous for its
Negri Sembilan dishes, which is of course my father's favourite food. There he is
wandering up and down the aisle looking for food and snacks to buy. As it turned
out, this was gonna be an entirely culinary trip. Food-hunting with father.

This is what my father loves. This stall is called 'Masakan Minang' (Minang dishes).
The 'Minang' people are not actually indigenous to this area but are immigrants from the
island of Sumatra, Indonesia, hundreds of years ago. They sailed over the narrow
Straits of Malacca and brought over their food, their traditions and way of life -
In particular the Adat Perpatih, which is a maternal-centric tradition centralising
considerable power, inheritance rights and patronage to the women folk. In fact,
your mother has to be a Minang for your lineage to continue as a Minang. I am
not a Minang because my mother isn't one. She is from the northern state of Perak.

While checking out the Petai (that green strip of fruit hanging over my dad), my
father suddenly made a remark, "My stepmother forbade me from eating the Petai
because it would make my urine smell." It is true. The nut can be quite bitter
but now he loves them. It is suppose to have medicinal properties. 

This is another nut version known as Kerdas. Just like the Petai it can be eaten
raw or cooked. It is even worse than the Petai in terms of its smell. I bought a very
small bag and put them in the rear passenger seat. The odour was too strong that at the
next stop I bunged the stuff into the boot of the car.

We also purchased some corn, duck eggs and Gula Melaka, which is hardened
sugar syrup made from the sap of the flower bud of a coconut tree. My dad refused
to purchase from an earlier stall because they mixed it with normal refined sugar. They
even tried to convince my father that it was necessary to solidify the Gula Melaka.
My father looked at me in a silent comment, "Yeaaah, riiiight...
Do they think I was born yesterday?" 

Coming into the small hamlet of Kuala Pilah we were suddenly assaulted by
a pouring torrential storm. As you can see, my windscreen wipers were in
freak-mode to keep the screen clear for me to see amidst all the rain.

We didn't stop in Kuala Pilah itself, which is basically a one-horse-town. As
we exited the town I saw a beautiful yellow-beige house on top of a hill. It had such
a dominant and all-seeing view from its heights that I asked my father whose house it was. My
father replied that it used to be the house of the estate manager. Ah, yes. I forgot. This
area once hosted the largest rubber estate in the whole world. No doubt, the occupant at
that time was some hard-nosed tough-talking Glaswegian or some other Scotsman.

About five minutes out of town we arrived in the small village of Kubang Rusa -
Pelangai. "Here...Here! Here!" My father  frantically gestured. So this is the main
objective of the trip. It seems that my father absolutely adores the grilled chicken,
duck, catfish and beef as well as an itsy bitsy bird that we call Puyuh. We bought them
all except for the duck. 

While my father was examining the dead and burnt fish, poultry and cow, I wandered  down
the road a little and saw a small cemetery on a hillock. Happily, my father wanted to
rest for awhile and we sat at a coffee house across the road. 

I took leave of my father and wandered through the old stone graveheads. This one
was buried in 1955. But it is quite clear that some of the graves are much older, with
many slowly sinking into the gentle embrace of the Earth.

In this grave sanctum were buried three children, perhaps no more than
little babes...

In fact it suddenly dawned on me that many of the graves were all tiny ones. A reminder
of just how high the mortality rate was for infants in the old days before modern medical
care became readily available in this locality and throughout rural Malaysia.

Which brings me to an interesting facet of today's journey. Through out the trip, my father would point out to a government clinic, saying something like, "This was just a dispensary. I built the clinic here, and now they even have a full-time dentist." Or later nearer to town, he would comment on a large district hospital, "I chose the location for this hospital, because the previous one was too narrow and small." In fact throughout the entire country, my father's invisible hand is evident in many, many dispensaries, district clinics, dental clinics, nurses training colleges, maternity homes and general hospitals all through the 13 states. He was once the director general of MinHealth, you see. It makes me think how he helped lower the mortality rate among infants in my country. And because of that, there are hardly any new baby graves in the cemetery of Kubang Rusa-Pelangai. My father has come along way from the poor little kampung boy living in the small village of Juasih, Kuala Pilah.

People sometimes complain that my father is unapproachable and has limited social vocabulary. Even I complain sometimes... But I must admit this - what is sociability compared to saving babies?    

Hope you had a wonderful Sunday, sunshine. I did.

wa min Allah at-taufiq

Hate has no place in Islam

Love will show the Way