Eid Time!

Happy Eid everyone!

And so, the Eid season visits again. Although saddened by the departure of the blessed month of Ramadhan, Syawal comes with its own blessings as well. Eid, the time to celebrate our achievements in Ramadhan and to strengthen ties and relationships with your loved ones. This year Eid does feel different. With the situation in Gaza as it is today, it is hard not to feel for our fellow brothers and sisters in Islam. Photos of rubble of what used to be places of worship and education strewn the empty streets, orphaned children left unattended and men and women bloodied from warfare can be seen on Facebook feeds. Anyone with heart and humanity would surely feel for them. My heart cries for them.

On a personal note, I have finally graduated! (more about this in another post Insya-Allah) Alhamdullilah, it does feel good. Especially during Ramadhan when you don't have to think about pending assignments or attending school. You could focus on ibaadah during the holy month. And of course, help out around the house in preparation for Eid. 

Reflecting on Eid

Upon reflection, the way we celebrate Eid evolves as you grow older. When I was younger, the excitement builds up as 1 Syawal draws even closer. When morning arrives, the euphoria peaks as we dress up and make our way to the homes of our loved ones. As usual, the Malay tradition of the elders giving out 'duit raya' (packets of money!) never dies out. And I would look forward to getting 'duit raya'. Almost every house that I visit, it's a guarantee that I'll get 'duit raya'. 

But as I grow older and wiser (I hope), I learn to contain that excitement. Why? Because it's gradually being replaced by sadness born out of the  the reality that the beautiful holy month of Ramadhan is leaving us. A month filled with bountiful blessings that we meet once a year. And we don't even know if we'll still be alive to meet Ramadhan again the next year. The reality of being older, of people's expectations of you taking on the role of adult weighs heavily on my shoulders. No longer would the elders hand out 'duit raya', no longer would they inquire about school and menial what-nots. 

And so begins the era of your aunties asking about your marital status:
'kau dah ada boyfriend ke belum?' (Do you have a boyfriend already?)
'bila nak kahwin nanti?' (When are you getting married?)

Questions of work or 'what's next?' since I've graduated:
'Kau dah dapat kerja?' (Have you gotten work?)
'Nak kerja apa?' (What kind of work are you interested in?)
'Lepas ni nak buat apa?' (What are you going to do after this?)

The embarrassing questions from your parents' friends just before leaving their house as they contemplate whether we are deserving of 'duit raya':
'Ni masih sekolah ke?'  (Are you still attending school?)
'Dah kerja?' (Are you working?)

What should I say? I'm clueless. I'm figuring it out really. But I must say, at this stage in life, it is rather ambiguous. People want to give out 'duit raya' but only give them to those still in school with the assumption that working adults do not need money but young children do? We do actually need money even more than the children though. But I digress...

In preparation for Eid

This year we baked! And baked and baked and baked lots of kuih and cookies and cake. There was a week during Ramadhan when we spent five days straight just baking. From morning till before breaking fast. It was definitely worthwhile. And a test of faith I must say. The aroma of vanilla-scented freshly baked cookies wafts in the air. For hours on end. The temptation to break fast was there. Those yummy kuih just waiting to be consumed. 

Shopping at Bazaar Ramadhan. It seems like a must-do every year. Shopping for THE dress to wear for the first day of Eid. I've always stuck to wearing 'jubah' every year. It's a one-piece simple dress. My reason being that comfort is of utmost importance. Especially when you're out visiting the whole day. Every year, we go to Geylang's Bazaar Ramadhan to find THE dress. And this year, the colour theme was turquoise. It was tough searching for it but alhamdullilah, we managed to find THE dress :) 

I'm sure we all have our Eid stories and so I will share more about it soon Insya-Allah.
Here's to wishing everyone a Happy Eid and may you be filled with peace, joy and contentment. 

~Salaam~

Divine Love Story

The strangest feeling that she ever had, was that Allah swt had sent someone for her to love and to love her. 

One obstacle after another seemed to line the path but Allah still kept them connected. 

Despite their differences in character, the way they disagreed with each other and the way they both thought, there seemed to be an invisible magnet that drew them together.

Over time, they realised how much they have both changed and now they seemed to be more in sync. They could understand without communicating, love without meeting and trust without promising.

She remembered there was a time after her tahajjud prayer, she felt cool air on her palms. That day was a day for the first 'test' that Allah swt sent her.

Probably the strange cool air that she felt was a gift from Allah to cool her heart.

Allah brought them together again and gave another test. She believed, just like the first test, this too shall come to pass.

Allah swt seemed to be sending many unexpected assistance despite the tough test that He was giving.

She believed it was His way of telling her, "Be patient. I'm with You.".

She believed that whatever that was happening, was going to be a ray of hope for others.

The Almighty chose them, to go through it and then share their struggles and success story in persevering in Your path during this tough modern times when people have forgotten about Allah swt. To remind the people, to appreciate and trust Allah swt in all matters.


~This was something that I stumbled upon on Facebook and thought of sharing it here:) 

Birthday Wish

There comes a point in your life when you have to turn into a mature and responsible adult. According to conventional norms, it comes when your age turns 21. Indeed, I am turning 21 in July. As the months progressed this year, I see my friends celebrating their 21st with parties and what-nots. I sincerely wish them all the best and may they be granted of long-lasting happiness. For more sadness in this world now just won't help.

Being a private person, I don't like the big HOOHA when it comes to birthday. Just being with my family feels right. And having good food amongst good old friends will cement a smile on my face. Or you know what, just a good undisturbed sleep. Its really just another birthday. Another year has passed. 21 years of age. When I was a kid, I truly could never imagine turning 21. I thought that somehow my life would end before I could reach 21. To others perhaps unimaginable but to me, I couldn't imagine or vision a life beyond 21. Now that, I'm here, the future looks unpredictable. As if, anything could happen. And my actions seems to reflect the nature of future. To elaborate, I do the most unexpected of things. Making decisions on impulse. Like donating blood without telling my parents. Or going to strange places. Attending talks and lectures. Attending to the endless flow of questions in my mind. Maybe everyone does enter such a phases of life. Maybe.

Turning 21 is huge in the legal aspect. You get to vote. You get entitlements. You get more responsibilities. Yo get more pressured into doing 'adult' things like get a job, get married, have kids. You have to think as an adult. Whatever does 'adult' mean? Is it purely defined by the number of years you exist on this Earth? De jure, 21 seems to be that number.

My family and relatives think I'm matured and responsible. They have no idea. Okay, perhaps, I am more responsible because I know what my priorities are. Matured? Ummm, sure why not? Let's just keep others thinking that I'm that.

Birthday wish... Hmm, what's the point? I won't even be in Singapore with my family on my birthday. I'll probably be sitting in front of my laptop, blogging about how miserable I am away from home on my 21st birthday. Let's see how what happens when that day comes shall we? ;)

India

You see this everyday roaming the streets of Delhi

This, is quite a rare sight. Camels. We took a camel ride to see the Taj

The grand entrance into the compounds of the Taj Mahal

Silks & Cottons of India Expo.
Amazing place.

The very people we were there for. The children in the Prayas community.

~Salam~

Bloody affaire

On the 8th of June 2012, Friday


I saw the dark red colour of blood flowing out of my left hand. It was a shock then it became thrilling.
This has always been one of the things I have been dying to do since the last time. Blood donation.

On a gloomy and rainy day, I left the house to meet up with my very good friend to catch up and have lunch. Before that, we went to the Bloodbank. I hadn't told my family where I would be going or what I would be doing. But I still went and donate blood. The Bloodbank is conveniently located in the north where I live.
I'm nervous about going there alone, not knowing what may happen there and after donation. I could have fainted at the sight of a needle or the sight of my own blood. To be honest, I was a tad confident that day. As if the invincibility potion flowed through my veins.

The Bloodbank is actually a bright and welcoming place. It was a pleasant surprise. Registering, check-up and some blood tests went as smooth as a baby's bottom. Before heading into the brightly lit room of donors, machines and what-nots, I grabbed a pack of Milo and drank on the spot. Just a last minute (futile) effort in increasing the blood glucose level. Also, the staff there are ever so friendly and helpful. And off I went into the room, there were three other men in the big, white-washed and spacious room. Large LCD screen TVs on two opposite sides decorate the walls. I felt so welcomed and safe. Upon sitting on the huge cushioned lean-back chairs, a lady quickly provided me with a blanket. Warmth. It had been raining since morning that day. 


As they were preparing the equipments, my gaze fell on the view outside. The windows covered half of the wall, providing a view of the skies and the building next to us. The clouds were still in a foul mood, projecting a gloomy forecast. But that surely did not dampen my spirits. 

The senior nurse walked towards my chair, alcohol swab stroked the crook of my left arm. A cooling sensation. Then, she revealed the needle. As she was about to insert it into my skin, I looked to my right, avoiding the scene. I would rather feel the pain than to see me subjected to that pain. Ouch! It felt like someone pinched me so quickly that there was no lingering pain. And so, I began pumping my left hand, gripping and releasing my fist. The dark red blood flowed just like a river flowing out to sea. I touched the bag containing a pool of my blood. Warm. How pleasant! I never thought I could feel the warmth of my own blood. In less than 20 minutes, they had collected enough blood. The needle was out and I pressed a swab of cotton. I didn't feel drained at all. It felt invigorating actually. It was a nice feeling to be able to donate blood, sharing the gift of life. As healthy human beings, we often take for granted, the very fluid that sustains us everyday, every minute, every second. With the gift of life flowing through our veins, it is our responsibility to share this gift. That's how I feel.

After many thanks and Milos, I left the Bloodbank for a much awaited lunch. My next Bloody Affaire would be in September. 

~Salam~

Restart

I'm back!

After months of absence,finally I have time to myself. Six months of absence sure is a long time.
But life continues to drive by us in lightning speed. The last time I was here, I was preparing to depart for India.
And it is the most incredible experience ever. Being an avid fan of Travel Living Channel, often times, I come upon the tourism advertisement for India. The catchphrase never fail to remind me of those experiences. 'Incredible India'. There truly is much to tell about the people I have encountered, the life within those brief weeks, the amazing food, the brilliantly coloured fabrics, clothes and shawls, the scenic landscapes. Masha-Allah. I miss it all.  Perhaps a separate post about the experience is fitting.

With all those months of absence, much has happened. Good times, bad times, tear-filled times, grateful times...Ahh, good or bad, Allah knows His plans for me. And I trust Him with all my heart. Whatever happens, I know that there is a reason. I may not clearly understand, but He knows it better than me, He knows what is good for me. And that is what that matters.

Whisked away

I'm off to India!