chesza

1st 23

2012-01-10T14:48:00.003-05:00

It is always fun when people find out we are married, regardless if it’s a friend, a teacher, or just the owner of our favorite restaurant. The shock on their faces is priceless. The next question to follow would always be, How old are you? And then they start to do the math. When, then, did we get married if we’re so young?

We got married when we were 20. Too young, to most. A fellow Intian, who barely spoke two words to me during orientation, sent a message on Facebook after our wedding asking, How do I know he’s the one? I remember saying I just know.

Now, two and a half years later—and after four years of being together—I can finally answer that question. I know that he is the one because I could not imagine a person better than him. A lot of people thought he was too good for me, and maybe they are right. But maybe he is God’s gift to me for doing something right, who knows? With no disrespect to the men I know, I simply couldn’t think of a person better than my husband. He is kind, gracious, patient, smart, loving, independent…and have I mention patient? It is not easy being with me, or any woman, for that matter. But I’ve never met a person whose love really does conquer the demon in me. On top of all that, he helps me with house chores—now that’s a real man.

Today is his 23rd birthday, and as I said to him yesterday, I can’t believe that we’ve been together for four years now. But since I have the time to ponder on it, I realized that being with him has actually been the easiest thing I have ever done in my life.

Happy 23rd Birthday,

Love,

Syaza

Sphere on shoulder

2012-01-06T13:26:00.007-05:00

Culture shock is a dead term in our Malaysian dictionary. As my wise husband aptly puts is, “culture shock” went out the window years ago when we fervently brought Astro into our living rooms. May I add, the term further perishes into obsolescence with the ubiquity that we now call the Internet. Malaysia is no longer a “third world country”—whatever that means—but a developed country (albeit being behind Singapore, Indonesia, and Thailand). Thus, I’m going to be frank here: there is no more escaping from the reality of sex, drugs, and booze, unless you live somewhere deep in our rainforest with no immediate means to access the outside world.

I am tired of people making assumptions that the recent news of our students going “astray” abroad was caused by culture shock. My guess is that who they are, and who they have become, is merely the result of western infiltration into our living rooms since the early 1990s, mixed with their eastern upbringing. I am not saying it is either right or wrong, but it has nothing to do with supposed “shock”. Perhaps by being away from home, away from the shackles of miscommunication, this new-found freedom finally provides these young adults with the opportunity to experiment with the alternatives that they have known of all along. They are not shocked by western culture; if anything, they are shocked by how similar their friends and classmates are compared to the people back home.

To the parents and teachers that talk about westerners like they know them from the back of their hands, I have a few questions: Do you know what your locally-studying Muslim children were up to last weekend? Can you for certain tell me that they have not once tasted a drop of alcohol? Or that they don’t have drugs hidden behind their headboard in their dorm rooms? What do they do at their so-called innocent birthday parties? To further prove my point that culture shock no longer exists in our Malaysian vernacular, I dare you to take a stroll through KLCC, or MidValley, or One Utama, or Pavillion, and tell me that the girls you see are not dressing exactly like the western idols they look up to. Again, I’m not judging, but simply sending a friendly reminder to stop using culture shock as an excuse.

Don’t treat the symptom, treat the disease.

Syaza

Drowning in Sweats of Love

2011-12-12T17:16:00.004-05:00

3 months, 15 weeks, 92 days, and 2208 hours. That was how long it took me to finally get back on this site. I wasn’t going to quit blogging, mind you; blogging has been a part of me for more than eight years. The reason I was away for so is long is because of the hectic semester I had.

Last semester (wow, can’t believe I’m actually done with my second-to-last semester), I took the capstone seminar class in political science. Basically, we were supposed to produce a worthy research on political science. Sounds simple enough, but do not be fooled. Every week we had to write at least three different papers, each not as short as I would have preferred. This on top of three more classes. When I showed my syllabus to a friend, who is a graduate student, he said he would not ever want to be in such class. The class was every Monday, and every Sunday I feel like dropping it, all the way till the final week. Heck, over the semester, I had considered dropping each of my class at different times, all because I thought I could not be able to carry all these classes simultaneously. When I finally submitted my final paper today, it was definitely a celebration…until I realize I have to do it all over again next semester for my other major. Oh well, next semester is three weeks away, so I am not going to think about it till then! Right now I just want to dig into the pint of ice cream in the freezer!

This semester was also the first time ever in my life I actually worked for pay. I am a bit behind when compared to those who have worked since their first semester in the United States. Regardless, it was a first personally, and I have enjoyed every second (and every penny) of it. It is the first time in my life that I can say I earned what I bought. When I was younger, my parents would reward my good grades, and I used to say I earned it. That was a different situation. This time I put hours and efforts, making new friends along the way! I pride myself for not depending on my parents since coming to the States, and this semester, I took it a step further. All while enrolled in that tortuous class!

Finally, this semester I had the chance to put hours into an internship that I am passionate about. It was not a lot of office work; nonetheless, I had the freedom to do something I truly enjoyed—reading—while getting credit! Given how I have just spent a whole day writing about my experience in a paper yesterday, I am not going to lunge into it right now. All I want to say is that I am grateful to be able to work with such an amazingly knowledgeable supervisor who opened my eyes about the plight of Muslims in the United States and worldwide. It was an honor to discuss and to debate with him.

While doing all these, I also had to do some other personal stuff on the side. I am so grateful for my rock, my husband, who was by me all the while, supporting me and pulling me out of my dark days. He’s definitely my number one supporter, even when I doubt myself (which is often).

This is just an ‘update’ post. In order to keep in tone with the direction of this blog, I will post more of my perspective on global events—and everything else in between—that matter to me. Given the many changes we witnessed last spring and summer, believe me, I have a lot to say on the rise of the democratically elected Islamist parties in the Middle East. Yet, I am not going to go into it right now. Let me enjoy reliving the moment I handed in that final paper earlier today.

Syaza

My Paradise

2011-09-11T19:50:00.000-04:00

On the 10th anniversary of 9/11, I would like to share a video that I fell in love with the first time I saw it. It is four years old, nevertheless it is as relevant today as it ever will. Because of where I am currently, physically and spiritually, I could relate to the video (especially the Victoria's Secret portion). Enjoy!

Syaza

Faith in faith

2011-08-14T23:06:00.006-04:00

In my previous post, I tried to make it clear that not all Muslims are Arabs, and not all Arabs are Muslims. Now I am asking permission to tweak that statement to take it a little bit further: Not all Muslims in Malaysia are Malays, and not all Malays should be Muslims. This is going to be one of my more controversial post, so click here if you don’t feel like being sapped into my thoughts.

Once, I was scolded for bringing up my discontentment with our constitution, but it is not going to deter me today. I do not agree that all Malays in Malaysia must be Muslims. My reason is simple. In sports, you only want to keep those who are committed to your team or you would trade them off for someone else who does, no? Yes, religion is more complicated than a baseball league. We should not want to trade our fellow Muslims away, but if they so wish to not be part of the Muslim community, why force them? What good will it bring? From the outside, people would get confused by these Muslims who do not defer to the teachings of Islam; from our own perspective, there is a proclivity by these people to disparage Islam and its adherents for forcing them to believe in something they do not. Ultimately, no one wins as the ummah would be weakened by these dissembled munafiks.

Where I am today, on average 3 to 4 people take the shahadah over the phone every week, and to think there is no such thing as a National Department of Islamic Development breathing down our neck. This may be an amateur observation, but what I could conclude is that people in the west, especially in the United States, are attracted to Islam because the Muslims that they encounter in their everyday life are genuinely sincere in their submission to Allah. We are Muslims, and we act as one, because we want to, not because the law tells us to do so. And when others see this, the true beauty of Islam shines through, and people are attracted to it. Instead of trying to emulate so-called Muslim nations in the Middle East where the black market for alcohol has never disappeared, why not we study how Islam has become the fastest growing religion in the United States, a Christian nation that promotes freedom of religion? Opponents to my argument would contend that this is a false analogy. Muslims in the United States are mostly professionals and rich immigrants, thus they are capable on their own, whereas Muslims in Malaysia range from high school dropouts to our highest intellects, and so some of them need guidance from a religious department. If this is so, it makes my argument easier. It seems that the best way to keep Muslims from turning their backs away is not to compel them to believe in something they do not, but to educate them so that they could think on their own regarding matters most crucial to a person's spiritual health.

One of my first conversations with Sofiya four years ago was regarding this topic. Then I asked her what her father’s opinion is, since he is a professor of philosophy and Islam. Her answer intrigues me. Apparently her father said that if people want to convert away from Islam, let them be, because eventually they will realize the light they have abandoned. For me, that statement is empowering. It is simple yet powerful. If you truly believe in Islam and its truth, why fear? Why do you feel like Muslims would leave this beautiful religion of ours in masses if they are allowed to? Do you lack confidence in this religion you call your own? Or are you calling your own brothers and sisters fatuous, not capable to distinguish right from wrong? I read in a forum somewhere where non-Muslim Malaysians believe that a majority of Malays would not be Muslims if not for our constitution. My response would be, "Let's prove them wrong and allow these people to make their own decision."

Me, for example, is handed out pamphlets upon pamphlets on Christianity and Jesus almost every other day on my way to school. But do you see my faith dither? I hope not. Because I know the truth, I politely decline them. There is no need for a department of religion to take these fine men and women away in handcuffs because they are trying to proselytize me. That is what they believe in, and I respect that. After all, I believe in Jesus, son of Mary too. Just because they want to sway me away does not mean I am swayed. Simple. In fact, the best way to counter their actions is to increase your own. Be gentle, provide amenities to the weak and poor, and pray for them. God listens to prayers by those who believe. Essentially, hidayah is not ours to force on people in the first place as it belongs solely to God. We may guide, but guidance has to be handled with care, and more importantly, with respect.

“As to those who reject Faith, it is the same to them whether you warn them or do not warn them; they will not believe. Allah has set a seal on their hearts and on their hearing, and on their eyes is a veil; great is the penalty they incur.” (Al-Baqarah: 6-7)

Syaza

Fool me twice

2011-07-09T13:12:00.006-04:00

Only three out of forty five Muslim-majority nations are considered politically free according to the fastidious analysis of Freedom House, an international institution supporting and advocating global freedom. How do we explain such inconsistency with what Islam stands for with this grievous ground level phenomenon?

The answer lies not in the historical root of Islamic Empires of the Caliphates, but further back to the quotidian culture of Arab tribes whose loyalty by blood paves the way for the kinds of human relationship established since.

Fourteen hundred years later, some still experience the numbing distortion and inability to discriminate between Islam and Arab culture. Not all Muslims are Arabs, and not all Arabs are Muslims. Thankfully, the spinning arrow of Illusion has finally come to a halt last January and the fog has cleared to those who dare to dream of upholding the truth on Islamic democracy.

Unequivocally, Islam taught its adherents to respect all leaders as we do elders for their contributions in comparison to ours, mere citizens, are inimitable in grandiose. However, an aspect of this equation that many fail to take into account is that a leader’s contract is functional to his or her services to the state. No where in Islam were we taught to be pathetically complacent when a leader fails to uphold the rights we have as Muslims, and more importantly as humans. In one simple phrase, if they do not provide, we do not abide.

Anarchy has been a term thrown from corner to another to justify the subjugation of a disparate group that threatens to destabilize power and harmony. Human rights violation is condoned in the name of special rights. Dare we still call ourselves Muslims by this low standard we hold? The Gaza flotilla incident on May 31st 2010 was castigated severely by the Muslim world as inhumane while it was rationalized by paranoia of the state in keeping peace and harmony within their boundary. One is supported while the other, the one happening in your own land, is condemned. Ironic or munafik?

Education and sophistication does not come hand in hand as one might predict by the incongruity of both in interpreting analogous events. The trade one has to make in choosing to put social benefits or religion on the back seat is discernible by the words and actions taken as he or she continuously be mentally blinded by earthly Illusions.

In commerce there needs to be an exchange of payment in order to receive better goods or services. Indulgence has to be renounced for a future all can be proud of. If an Illusion is all that one has in going on with reality, doomed shall the person be for Illusion is just a fancy code name for Trickery.

Syaza

Once Upon A TIME...

2011-06-27T17:18:00.001-04:00

In honor of my father, Mohamad Shukri Ahmad's, 53rd birthday today on June 27th, I want to share this essay I wrote two years ago that I think reflects the unique inspiration he had on me as a photographer, and more importantly as a person. Thank you for everything, and may you have a blessed day, year, and life ahead of you. I love you, Papa.

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Six years old. “Use both hands to hold the camera!” Click!

Eight years old. “You need to hold your breath when you’re pressing the shutter button; you don’t want the picture to turn out blurred, do you?” Click!

Twelve years old. “Look at this picture here you took during our vacation. Why cut me off at the knees? And this one here. Why isn’t your brother at the center?” Click!

Photography has always been a part of my life. Always. My dad, an ardent fan of anything artsy, was the main reason for it. He is a photographer, a painter, a musician, and an architect. As a father of two, he encourages his only pair of kids to pursue the same path…well, not exactly. Neither my brother nor I am an architect. But we are both taught to appreciate arts since a very young age. My brother chooses drawing and animation, I choose photography and music. Art is beautiful. Art is the best way to put one’s self out there into the world. Photography, a form of realist art, is the best way to capture one’s self.

Unlike Roland Barthes, I do see myself as an amateur photographer. He does not for he is “…too impatient for that: [he] must see right away what [he has] produced” (Camera Lucida, pg. 9). Since he is not a photographer, Barthes recognizes the need for one in order for him to even begin scrutinizing a photograph. Thus, for a photograph to be produced, two important entities are required: the Operator and the Spectator. The experience of both the photographer (the former) and the one glancing at the photograph (the latter) is too different to be talked about together. Barthes, a Spectator, is more interested in explaining the feeling one experiences when looking at a photograph whereas I, an Operator, definitely lean more towards “…the emotion [that] had some relation to the “little hole” through which [I] look, limit, frame, and perspectivize when [I] want to ‘take’” (Camera Lucida, pg. 10). For acknowledging this distinct feature of photography in his effort to dissect its true meaning in relation to one’s self, Camera Lucida certainly fits its own title as a book on the ‘Reflections on Photography’.

Photography is an amazing way for one to capture an emotion and also for one to materialize a feeling that has been building up. In simpler terms, photography is a perfect means for people to express the identity without having to put it into words. But then again, photography is not the only way to do so. After music, painting is the next best thing to be considered a universal language. And of all the paintings I have encountered in my life, this is one of my least favorite:

Tarian ©

This painting is basically of three unknown figures dancing happily together. It is a painting called Tarian (dance) by an unknown artist to most. Even though it is not a photograph, I do see it somewhat in a way that most view photography. For starters, there are distinguished objects in the painting which include the three dancers in red, the tall grass, and the clear, cloudless sky. To think about it, one could even consider those as the studium* of the painting. A studium to me is whatever one can see in an artwork that represents the setting, whereas a punctum** is the something that stirs up an emotional response from a viewer. The punctum of this painting is obviously there, but I won’t point it out, yet. Although painting and photography, together with sculpture and cinematic art, are the same in that all of them are visual arts, a painting differs from a photograph where the studium and punctum are there on purpose. The background and the details are all created by the artist. Even if a photographer intentionally chooses his subject, the subject in itself is real. In contrast, whatever is in a painting has to be thought of first before it could be produced on a canvas.

The main thing, however, that needed to be stressed about Tarian are the three figures in a dancing pose that viewers are instantly drawn to. In the chapter He Who Is Photographed in Camera Lucida, Barthes talked about this unique process of posing. In a sense, for him, it is quite hopeless for one to try to appear natural in a photograph for that is a definite unattainable feature of photography. This is because, in Barthes own words, “…I derive my existence from the photographer… I experience it with the anguish of an uncertain filiation: an image – my image – will be generated” (Camera Lucida, pg. 11). In other words, people unconsciously pose because they are conscious of a photograph that will be developed which will contain his or her image, thus their identity too.

An image of a person is not only about the face and the body, but also of the way his or her personality is expressed. When someone chooses to smile, it is because he wants to be associated with happiness. That is why fashion models are asked to have different expressions for different catwalks; not all fashion shows are about feelings of contentment. Even when a person is supposedly not posing for a picture, that is the identity he wishes to portray – one of impatience. Similarly, when an artist paints, especially that of human beings, he is indirectly putting them in poses since no such thing as a natural form exists in the first place to painted figures. In Tarian, although one cannot make out the facial expressions, the fact that these figures are in a dancing posture helps viewers form a mental image of the self that is being portrayed. Every artwork in this world has a purpose, and the purpose of this painting is for the artist to express his feeling of ecstasy to the world hence the dancing postures.

According to Barthes, the pose which one puts up when in front of a camera is not to be mistaken for one’s true “self”. A person’s self is too complicated and too dispersed to be caught in a moment. Instead, the character that is developed on paper is “…heavy, motionless, [and] stubborn…” (Camera Lucida, pg. 12) since it could not progress with time the way that the self does in real life. As in the case of Tarian, the artist painted those figures in that particular manner because he wants those characters to vibrate the joy and merriment of being in one another’s presence; it has nothing to do with the painter’s self except that of what he felt during that specific moment. A single moment of delight in his life could never do justice to the artist as a person since there are more angles to his personality than just what is obvious in a painting.

Likewise, in the real world, it is impossible for a person to put his entire self out in the open when confronted by unfamiliar faces in an unknown environment. Nobody can depict an entire self to those he had just met except, of course, if he decides to scream his likes and dislikes for others to take note of. Because of that, one needs to pose differently for different occasions. Therefore, it should be understood that this idea of posing is not exclusive to artworks as every person on earth is known to have posed, especially when in the presence of the mass public. Some call it a facade. Nevertheless, the concept is still the same. As how Barthes wants his picture “…to ‘come out’ on paper…endowed with a noble expression…” (Camera Lucida, pg. 11), so does a person wishing to make a solid good first impression with his fellow human beings. It is nothing to be ashamed of. Posing, or wearing a mask, does not imply an absence of identity but simply portrays the side of a person that he wants to be associated with. For that reason, the Spectator should not take for granted and conclude a person’s identity based on a single pose, but at the same time it is important to recognize a pose as part of a person’s wider identity.

Yet, as a photographer myself, I hate it when people start to strike a pose whenever they see me holding a camera. True, I understand their concern of wanting the photograph to look ‘good’ but honestly, an ‘ugly’ picture could even turn out more beautiful if they just give it a chance. As mentioned, what excites the Operator is the vision framed by the keyhole. Therefore, a thought-of pose could never be exciting to the photographer. I am not interested in the product so much as what is in front of my eyes. If a friend is twirling in happiness, that will be my target object regardless of how her hair would look like in the picture or how distorted her body would appear. In Photography as Adventure, Barthes talks about how a photograph is only considered a photograph if it stirs a feeling of adventure in him. My sense of adventure, however, comes not from looking at a photograph but from the real life experiences that I try to capture on camera – objects in motion. For me, that is beauty. That is truth.

But since I have no control over a painting that is not done by me, I cannot talk about Tarian the same way I would a photograph I personally took. Yet, Tarian is a painting that has always caught my attention. I do not like it, but honestly, I have always found it interesting. Although the motion is not one of extreme movements (the kind that I usually love to capture on camera), it is in the simplicity that I found the adventure. Borrowing Barthes’ term, that painting advenes. It attracts my attention. How so? Although Tarian is one of my least favorite paintings, I find it fascinating not because of its punctum, but of the fact that three faceless figures could exert such strong emotions to its viewers. As individuals living in a society, we have always been taught by our culture that the face – especially the eyes – is the window to human emotions. Facial expression is important as part of our everyday non-verbal communication. But as we see here, that is not the case. Colors and lines constituted the human figures that are interpreted as dancing, hence joy. No eyes or mouth, just lines. And just like Barthes, I do not believe in lifelike photographs but if “…it animates me [then] this is what creates every adventure” (Camera Lucida, pg. 20). This best explains why this simple and lifeless painting brings about such a strong reaction from me for it brings out a consciousness within.

Alongside advene, Barthes is interested in Photography for sentimental reasons. He puts it best when he said, “I see, I feel, hence I notice, I observe, and I think” (Camera Lucida, pg. 21). Since I have evaded announcing the punctum to Tarian for a while now, I feel it is time for me to do so. Back when I was a young Spectator, years ago, the punctum to the painting had been, and in fact still is, the signature at the bottom right corner. That is the signature of my dear father. Yes, Tarian is painted by my father. For being the daughter to the artist, I have a firsthand knowledge about the story behind the painting: the figure on the left is him, my dad; the one on the right is my mother; the smaller figure in the middle is my brother. Me? I am not in the painting. This artwork was done way back before I was born. Actually, it was started even before my brother was born. But right after he came into the world, he was quickly added as the third figure. The question now is, why wasn’t the same done for me? When asked, this was his answer: “After you were born, your mum asked me to stop painting so that I could focus more on the family.” Noble indeed, but what about my sense of belonging? I do not like Tarian for the sake that I was not included in it. Narcissistic, maybe, but hey, I am part of the family, aren’t I? This is the sentimental reason behind Tarian being my least favorite painting by him. This punctum of his signature is the “…something [that] has triggered me, has provoked a tiny shock, a satori, the passage of a void” (Camera Lucida, pg. 49). This painting reminds me that there was actually a time when I was not yet born but the History of the world does not stop to exist in my knowledge.

Barthes wrote about History being the time when his mother was alive before him in History as Separation: “Thus the life of someone whose existence has somewhat preceded our own encloses in its particularity the very tension of History, its division” (Camera Lucida, pg. 65). This division in History is noted in the photograph of his mother wearing clothes no longer worn in his period. Obviously Barthes was not talking about History in the sense of human being’s gradual transformation from past to present – History is seen in this context as a personal transformation. As History is seen to be divided between two existences, the moment one passes a second, that last second becomes History as it ceases to exist. This is described further by Barthes when he points out that the living soul is the only thing contrary to History. And so, in relation to time, a person’s identity is not easily defined as it could already be ‘History’ when it is talked about. A person may have a certain interest when he was in his 20s but what about twenty years later? Or thirty years later? Who is going to say that the person will not evolve? This, however, is the beauty of one’s identity. Nobody can pinpoint it. Nobody can really say, “I am this, you are that.” People change and a photograph is just a document that holds evidence to a person’s self at a particular point in his life.

Pekan ©

Given my opinion on the painting Tarian, it is understandable for one to assume that my favorite painting by my father would be one done after 1989, the year I was born. However, Pekan (town) is actually one of those paintings which I used to stare at a lot when I was younger. For some reason, my father is not too proud of this one. In our old house, this canvas was nailed at a corner where no one except family members would usually passed by. In other words, this painting is almost invincible, even to me after a while. But once in a blue moon, I would sit upside down on the couch where this painting was hung above, and stared at my father’s recollection of his past. Those small figures are supposed to be him and his friends (including his then-girlfriend, my mother) and the scene, or studium, is of them having cendol – a Malaysian dessert – under a tree where the hawker has his stall. But unlike the first painting, the punctum of Pekan is not my father’s signature at the bottom left corner. Even though this painting was finished in 1986, I love it anyway because the overall scene of those young architecture students reminds me that my parents were once young too, and I am certainly not the first person in the family to have such strong patriotic feelings over my fellow countrymen.

The punctum to me in this painting is the name of the store furthest left: Syarikat Chan (Chan Company). Chan is a Chinese surname, and in this painting, it is the only legible element of it. My father has no problem acknowledging in this artwork that Chinese are advancing much better in business at a time when Malays were fighting for economic equality. This is the kind of History that I am proud of. Even if I am not part of the painting, these college students in the 80s are proofs that regardless of skin color, everyone can live side by side without beliefs, cultures, or personalities getting in the way. A person’s self may change given time, but the course it chooses to take depends on its History. In the same way, although the Malaysia of now is different from the Malaysia back then, History could be the remedy all of us have been waiting for. As mentioned, a person’s old behavior that is captured in a photograph – or painting – may not dictate him any longer, nonetheless it is still considered part of his self. History may be why I hate Tarian, but History is also why I love Pekan.

Photography, in definition, is the art of creating still pictures. It is an art – a way for the artist to appeal to the senses and emotions. Nothing more. Spectators do have the opportunity to make their own interpretations of a photograph but the real photograph lies in the view of the Operator, the photographer. The identity which the photographer chooses to capture is no more than a tiny fraction of a person’s self at a certain period in his own History. By studying a photograph one may be able to form a rough idea of that person, perhaps, but Identity, with a capital I, will never ever be successfully captured by both the amateur and professional photographers even if they try, for it is not there to be caught on camera in the first place.

*According to Barthes, studium is an application to a thing, taste for someone, a kind of general, enthusiastic commitment…without special acuity (Camera Lucida, pg. 26).

**Punctum, however, disturbs the studium as it stings, specks, and cuts (Camera Lucida, pg. 27).

Syaza Farhana Mohamad Shukri
Fall 2009

Assumption of a rejection

2011-06-21T01:09:00.003-04:00

In this prime state of ours as fully dependent beings, the 21st century does not make life easier even with the vast amount of information at our fingertips. Reality is no longer the brick-and-mortar it used to be as we move pass the death of indifference. As we are ruled by what is merely perceived of the current world, inevitably, it is going to have a detrimental effect on the maintenance of a salubrious consciousness.

However, perception is, most of the time, a simple guess or assumption that one holds - an idea that shall carve the way for a mass of followers to end up falling short of, eventually. Yet, the masses are willing to be blinded by a bucket of tears for a loss that never was in the first place. How can we mourn over what never came to be?

A simple example is witnessed by society’s obsession to fulfill a destiny that is written for those other than themselves. Although commendable, there is no certainty a hoary formula that works for one is going to guarantee similar success for all. So, is it fair to clump together adversaries with the wicked when all they did was making use of opportunities? In The Alchemist, Paulo Coelho wrote about learning to listen to a universal language; I call it the ability to accept one’s fate and not be an ingrate about the path uniquely laid out for us.

With the massive influence of social networking, there is a high increase of diffidence in not only our youths, but also in the adults who are feeling the heat of not appearing presentable enough on their online profile. But as the pressure mounts for the neighbor’s son to claim success a la Justin Bieber, there is this lack of effort among us to warn him of the possibility of becoming an unlikely sensation following that of Rebecca Black.

Is it thus worth comparing acceptance by the number of views received when the rejection perceived is no more than a soft nudge by the universe toward a direction more analogous to the individuality of a person?

To assume that a better life lies in parallel to current reality is akin to questioning the worthiness of taking another breath. The grass will always be greener on whichever side the sun is shining upon as long as there is effort and care, without any sentiment of regret or longing for a perceived idealism that hangs in limbo. Shortcuts are the shortcomings of a failure. Nothing is as exceptionally beautiful as witnessing triumph at the end of a long winding road.

Walt Disney was fired by a newspaper editor because of supposed ‘lack of imagination’; Albert Einstein was expelled from school; Vincent Van Gogh was only able to sell one painting during his lifetime; Steven Spielberg was rejected from the University of Southern California three times; J. K. Rowling was living on welfare before her talent was acknowledged, etc.

Never mourn a dream assumed to be the key.

If the future seems out of reach, try facing where the wind is whistling in your heart.

Syaza

Proverb gone right

2011-06-08T12:28:00.012-04:00

On the first day before leaving the United States some time a couple of weeks ago, my mum sent me a message saying, “Jauh perjalanan, luas pemandangan,” (roughly translated to “Travel far, wider view.”) I smiled thinking how cute my mum is but gave no further thought on the topic. Over the years, I never had a solid record on Bahasa Malaysia – I seldom got an A for BM; SPM was a total surprise. So, I did not truly understand what kind of “pemandangan” (view) that I’m supposed to have a better understanding of with travels. View of buildings, mountains, or cats? It turned out that my recent travel helps broaden my view on human nature.

It was our fourth day in Turkey. We hadn’t had a shower for two nights. No proper sleep too. And so when we arrived in beautiful Cappadocia, all I wanted to do was to take a shower, rest, and then figure out what to do for the rest of the day. By the time we had decided to rent a bicycle, Zaim was already on a tour bus heading to his first destination. At noon, with our rented bikes, we decided to take it easy and follow the guide of a “walking path” map. If it is walk-able, it sure has to be cycle-able, I thought. Two hours later we were lost. With no compass, I had no idea where exactly we were heading. Then, of all place and time, we saw a car parked between the “Fairy Chimneys” and we were relieved! A man appeared, smiling, calling us over. I was instantly scared and nervous. Why does this man look eager to see us? But we were lost, and we had no other choices. We went over and figured that we will ask for directions and immediately leave. But this man insisted that we parked our bicycles and joined him for the traditional Turkish tea we’ve come to love. He couldn’t speak much English, but he tried. And we tried. With a smile he told us he owns the area. With our map, he showed us how to reach the nearest asphalt road. I was relieved. He is a nice man. After talking about his family, his farm, and Turkish (and European) politics, we thought it was time to go. But we thought wrong. He pulled us over to show us his cute little winery and peanut farm. He showed us, and taught us, about the volcanic remains creating the “chimneys”. By then I have a suspicion he is going to ask for money later. Why else would he do such nice things for free? After about 20 minutes, he stopped at a table full with souvenir necklaces and chose two, one for each of us. He said, “Gift from me. I love Malaysian people. People always ask for a tour of my farm but I always say no. Except for brothers and sisters from Malaysia.” I was touched. Mr. Bekir was a true example of why we should always try our best to have faith in people – sometimes even with strangers.

About a week later, we found ourselves in Milan. We had no plan to stay the night, only 18 hours before our next scheduled train leave for Venice. It was a busy day in Milan because of some bicycle race in support of something in Pink. I couldn’t read Italian. We were walking, enjoying the beautiful summer day, until we arrived at a fountain in front of an old palace. We stopped to take some pictures. Moments later, a man approached us with a Salam. We replied. He told us that he is a Muslim and wanted to give us a string wristlet. We declined, fearing a total scam. He told us, “No problem.” Zaim repeated over and over and over that we are not going to give him a single Euro for something a 5-year-old could make in nursery class. He said, “For Muslim, free.” We relented, thinking if Mr. Bekir could be so nice in the presence of no one, this man might just be an honest Muslim too at this spot of many tourists. While he tied those wristlets around our wrists, he talked about reciting the Quran. But once he was done, his persona turned 180 degrees and he asked us for money. I wasn’t too shocked, but I was frustrated. We gave him 3 Euros just to make him go. When we said, “No!” loud and clear, he used religion to win us over. When we were suspicious of him, he talked to us in friendly Arabic. How low can a person be to use the sanctity of religion for a few Euros? He saw I wore the headscarf and took advantage of that. Our prayer to him is for God to judge him fairly.

At the end of our trip, while Zaim was standing in line with us at the Venice bus stop, waiting to send us off, we came to the conclusion that people could not, and should not, be trusted. Especially a certain “type” of people. We were so angry at how our day in Milan was ruined by a crook. How unashamedly deceptive a person could be, even when we were no less persistent. Humans are cruel. Survival is more important than honesty. It came as no surprise that these people are still at the bottom end of the feeding chain because they lack integrity in their dealings. I, a person who prides herself for trying her best from uttering racist comments, am so disgusted that unconsciously I began to make general assumptions about people of a certain kind. This is the new wider view I am supposed to have, perhaps.

And then we landed in New York. After a four hour flight delay, and wasted cheap Megabus seats to Pittsburgh, we headed to Port Authority to find the next bus out of New York. While there, still fatigued by our more-than-30-hour journey from Venice, we decided to grab a bite. We came upon a relatively huge cafeteria and figured there must be at least something we could eat there that has no meat. While making payment, the man behind the counter gave me a look and then asked, “Are you Muslim?” I replied, “Yes.” He gave praise to God and smiled. Since we still have our bottled water from the flight earlier, I did not order any drink. With a surprise look, this man said to me, “You can have any of the soda, it’s on me.” After having experienced what I experienced, my head was telling me to not accept anything from him, even if he is a Muslim. But the man insisted, and knowing myself, my instant gut instinct to trust people, I smiled and accepted his offer. He did not ask us to pay extra.

After nearly 16 days, my journey did not end when I landed in JFK, but continued until I finally arrived home in Pittsburgh. God is teaching me a lesson: Do not come down so harshly on others. Each individual is different and unique in their behavior and back stories. Just because one (or two) person did something wrong, we should still try to refrain from making generalizations. I know this sounds straightforward, but honestly, how many of us make wide generalizations day in and day out? I was ashamed, embarrassed of my behavior in Milan. If I was prepared to have prejudices because of a silly wristlet, I should not be mad when half of the world population hates us Muslims. Nineteen Muslims caused 2000+ deaths 10 years ago, and we are still screaming for the public to acknowledge the presence of moderate Muslims.

Yes, my view on humanity is definitely broader now compared to when we left. I learned so much that it humbled me now whenever someone is nice to me. They should not be. My fellow Muslims are murderers. But if these kind-hearted neighbors are willing to give me the benefit of the doubt, I should always, always, remember to hold myself from making judgments about others too. I may not have a good record on Bahasa Malaysia, but I know that I am ready to fight against the mentality of “Sebab nila setitik, rosak susu sebelanga” (Because of a drop of indigo, a pot of milk is ruined.)

Syaza

Can hair equal heart?

2011-05-03T21:31:00.008-04:00

No bride or groom ever entered into a marriage contract without experiencing some sort of cold feet beforehand. Mine was a case of cold feet by the entire family. Trying to look pass the embroidered veil, I asked a few important people in my life if my decision was a good one – not right, but good, for right is subjective. One such response that I’ll never forget was someone telling me maybe I should wait a while because knowing the person that I am, I supposedly have much more to achieve, and by tying the knot, I might be tying myself down too soon with the possibility of wasting future opportunities. As much as I disagree, I understood the sentiment came from love. Needless to say, that was not the last I heard of the “reach for the stars before settling down” argument.

One of the things I find troubling in our society is that we want our kids to go as far as they could, yet looked down upon people who choose to settle down at a young age. A Bachelor’s Degree is not enough anymore, as most would agree. But to go far means marriage would have to take a backseat while we grow older and older. What bothers me is that people do realize that today is a different world – sex and romance are everywhere on every corner. Thus, do we really expect our youths to be infallible while they reach for this ever-afar, ever-unreachable state of contentment? Yes, I am a conservative…or am I realistic? Regardless of your preferred ideological label, how naïve are we to expect people who are getting older to not yearn for love and comfort at the same time?

A couple of years back, someone mistakenly called me a feminist. The question is what truly makes a woman a feminist? The conventional definition of a feminist is a person who does not need a man behind her back while she makes her own wealth, buys her own material comforts, and most importantly, depends on no one for love and security. In order to achieve all these, a woman has to gain expertise as fiercely as the male version of them. Those women who choose to stay at home and cook for their husbands are regarded as incompetent, trapped in the image of their late ancestors. But is this fair?

In Mona Lisa Smile, a movie set in the 50s featuring Julia Roberts (Katherine), Kirsten Dunst, and Julia Stiles (Joan), there is a scene that I feel is so powerful relating to women empowerment. Joan is a very bright student at a prestigious college where Katherine was accepted to teach art history. As they approach graduation, Katherine encourages Joan to apply for Law School at Yale, where she was accepted. However, when her teacher visits her at home, Joan informs her that she has decided to move to Philadelphia instead to support her new husband at the University of Pennsylvania. Obviously, her very modern teacher was upset. And that’s when Joan spoke these words of wisdom we seldom hear:

“Do you think one day I’ll wake up and regret not being a lawyer? . . . Not as much as I’ll regret not having a family. Not being there to raise them. I know exactly what I’m doing and it doesn’t make me any less smart. . . You stand in class and tell us to look beyond the image but you don’t. For you a housewife is someone who sold her soul for a centre-hall colonial; she has no depth, no intellect, no interest. You’re the one who said I can do anything I wanted. This is what I want.”

Feminism is about choice. Women empowerment has nothing to do with the right to drive, to be naked, or to climb the corporate ladder. Women empowerment is about the right, as a woman, to choose your own path. Joan was right, since when is it a crime for a woman who has a higher education to stay at home and raise her children – in my case, to get married? John Stuart Mill, a liberal thinker in the 19th century, wrote in On The Subjection of Women that liberty and education to the female gender is important, if not most, for an educated woman is a happy woman that will have more to offer her future children, the future generation. I am not saying that all women should be a stay-at-home mom; but for those who do decide to do so, there is no reason for the general public to think so low of them because you never know what credentials such women may hold – they may even be smarter than you.

Syaza

The doom of light

2011-04-18T11:46:00.001-04:00

Something that a lot of people do not know about me is how young I was when I was exposed to the world of Malaysian politics. Since I was nine, politics was one of the major discussions at dinner. Some may have had passionate interest in this field since their UPSR years, but I’ve had to swallow, and deal with, the reality of this power game at an age when all I really cared about was if the Spice Girls will make a new album.

I’m not saying that it could have been better otherwise, but I’m saying it could have been better otherwise. Yes, it was good to learn about how the country is managed from different perspectives; yet, because of the high exposure, there was a point when I automatically switched on a Britney Spears’ song in my head whenever politics is mentioned, the same way my friends used to turn away everytime I started to preach the P word. Rather than die of an overdose, let me be blissed by ignorance, I thought. It is such a dirty field that I have no respect for NEITHER side. In retrospect, I admit that I was biased, simply because I was brainwashed. At nine, even by reading both Harakah and Utusan Malaysia, my mind was not sophisticated enough to make the distinction between fanaticism and truth. Plus, I felt like I could not voice my opinion because apparently, I was too young. Everything I said was shot down, without a second acknowledgement of my effort to make sense of reality. Thus, I lost interest.

Nine years later, I had to decide between Political Science and International Relations (because being the person that I am, when JPA wrote on their website that only three options are available for a scholarship in the social sciences, it meant to me that ONLY THREE OPTIONS ARE AVAILABLE). Immediately, I was brought back to the memories of my love-hate relationship with politicians and their biased supporters, so I chose IR. However, a few months later, after being reacquainted with world politics, I saw that there are still a few rare, but genuinely caring, politicians who do want more than a quick buck (not in Malaysia, obviously). My faith in world leaders was restored. Yet, I deliberately choose to avoid Malaysian politics because of the cheap and dirty strategy both sides pursue. How I was made to believe one was better than the other is a miracle when I think of it now.

Some may say, “Tough it up! THIS is politics!” My response is, “No, that’s YOUR pessimist version of what could have been an amazing scientific field.” I would like to think that the idealist in me is still on fire, and it is not going to burn out anytime soon. I try to be as positive a person as I can be in any way possible – no storm or heat can make me grunt; in fact, I hate nay-sayers. Life is so wonderful if only more people would put on their rainbow glasses. I may be weak and live in an alternate reality that does not exist, but let me be, because your reality is fit only to those who had not taken off their biased glasses to take a walk outside. To really take a step outside.

-C-

The Rainbow Association: our version.

2011-03-14T22:47:00.015-04:00

Since arriving at Pitt, I have taken courses focusing on the Middle East and Islam almost every semester: Islamic Civilization, Mediterranean World, and Islamism and Terrorism. Given, my History major concentration is in the Middle East, thus I am quite well acquainted with these topics. I have learned so much more about Islam in two years than I ever did for twenty years in Malaysia because back home, everything is treated as a propaganda, even (or especially?) our education system. So, it is impossible to be objective and learn beyond practice of those outside our own comfort zone.

It was over a year ago, nevertheless, I still remember clearly the thought that struck me when Professor Pinar talked about the four Islamic schools of thought. After introducing the Imams and their legacies that had lasted over centuries till present, she said something that goes roughly like this: “Even though the Muslim world follows different madhabs, each one of them is respected and regarded as equals to one another.” It was at that moment that I scoffed under my breath. Respected? Maybe they are acknowledged in Malaysia, but I have heard strict adherents to the Shafi school of thought simply dismissing all the rest. Why is that? All four of them were great Islamic scholars in their own right that just happened to have different interpretations of the Quran and Hadith. My point being they are humans, not prophets; just people who were very blessed with the ability to memorize, understand, and analyze the contexts of the Quran and Hadith in order to come up with rulings on fiqh that are highly agreed upon.

Another embarrassing moment was when we were discussing Wahhabism in class. Confidently, I raised my hand and gave my incorrect two cents and said that I did not think it was another sub-branch of Islam, just another set of beliefs some choose to follow. How ignorant was I. But the point is, did we even learn about Wahhabism in our eleven years at school (public everyday school, that is)? Even if we did, I bet it is to de-Islamize them. Why can't we introduce all the sects of Islam without condemning any one?

And that is what I’m getting at. Islam is a universal religion that could withstand the test of time and place. Precisely for that, Allah gave us the greatest gift of all – our mind (akal). He provides us with guidelines, but we are told to reason in order to implement them. God told us in the Quran, “Do you order righteousness of the people and forget yourselves while you recite the Scripture? Then will you not reason?” [2:44]. Although the practice of ijtihad is no longer allowed after scholars had come to a consensus centuries ago, who are we, mere humans who have sinned in the eyes of God, to call others heretics just because we hold certain biases? For example, I do not understand why is it that in Malaysia we acknowledge other religions (which is good and should be continued), but we do not allow Muslims who practice Shi'ism to be part of our community? Understandably, some are afraid those with few knowledge and weak understanding could easily be led astray. But who are we to call Shi'ites heretics? Aren’t they Muslims too? Don’t they believe in the same God and prophets? They may do certain things differently, and believe in a different history, but they are our brothers and sisters too.

Before coming to the States, I had a really good conversation about Islam with an aunt who I respect a lot because of her enthusiasm in reading and discovering Islam, which I find endearing as I love to do the same thing too. As laymen, we are not supposed to make ijtihads, except based on qiyas. Thus, there is no wrong in looking at a variety of sources to make judgments based on analogies. Anyway, as we were talking about a couple of hadiths that are less popular among those widely circulated in Malaysia, she reminded me to be sensitive of our elders, and I agree. Most of them are not well-read and tend to follow blindly the teachings of their ustaz and ustazah (which is not wrong, and is in fact encouraged to non-scholars). Then, about a month after coming to the States, I had another conversation with a person I highly respect over here. She told me how a cleric in the United States once mentioned that some things are better left unsaid because most elders – especially those in the Nusantara region – are incapable of handling different opinions. And I agree, again. This is just history repeating itself. Remember Kaum Tua of the early 20th century?

The conclusion I can make is that Muslims in Malaysia are lucky; sadly, because of that, they are ignorant of the existence of other Muslim communities around the world. I have heard a lot of sarcasm from Malaysians targeting other Muslims including, but not limited to, the other non-Shafi madhabs, Wahhabis, Sufis, Salafis, and Shi'ites, and I was never able to get it around my head. Before these people even begin considering criticizing the West for being insensitive to the plight of Muslims worldwide, why don’t they look into the mirror first. I am very glad that I have the opportunity to be where Muslims in an abaya, sari, with hands on their hearts, and some by their sides, can pray next to each other in harmony everyday. Islam is not rigid, but because Malaysia is a big upside-down tempurung, a lot fail to recognize its beauty.

Prophet Muhammad (saw) said that the Mujtahid will get two rewards if he is correct and one reward if he commits a mistake (Abu Dawood). Therefore, shouldn't we strife to use our reason in making deductions because it is, well, risk-free?

-C-

Queen

2011-03-01T00:03:00.010-05:00

Concerts are my kryptonite. None is perfect, but we can strive to be, can’t we? Through my arrogance, I try to find the time to tweak my weaknesses. Pride is definitely further from the truth. Excuses shall not be sufficient, yet they are all I can offer in this state of shame. In my lowest form, I am humbled by the acknowledgment that I’ve wronged a lot of people. Everyone has their flaw, and the best I can do is to refrain from judging; for only speaking of it now, I apologize. If God is willing, then it shall be.

Funny how this train of thought occurred while I was at the Lady Gaga concert last weekend. She is the person who is my generation’s Michael Jackson, the Freak of all freaks, whom I was not supposed to pay a single dollar to see do none but prance around on stage – so the wisdom goes. But I’m weak. I’m a slave to good music, especially when it is put to life on stage. I do not go to parties. I do not go to clubs. I understand the profanity of a tudung-clad girl being in a dark and small room. But an arena is huge, and most of the people who paid the 20, 50, 100, 200, or 350 dollars to be there, I believe, are more concerned with enjoying the music than with anything else. Again, I apologize for the excuses, but this is it – this is me.

Lady Gaga is a true artist. Her passion is reflected in her art. Traces of her fingerprint are everywhere from her costume, to the props, to her script, and especially in her music. Her sincerity is proven in her humility when talking about the rough waves she had to paddle against to get to where she currently is. Unlike my father, I only see splashes of colors on a painting; unlike my mother, I only see columns and roofs on a monument; unlike my brother, I only see talking animals in an animation. Music is the only art I truly understand. Music, literature, and performance art.

So when Lady Gaga swore she had never lip-synched and never will, it resonates with me because I get it. The effort she must have put in to pin her performances is amazing. Thus, when some time in the middle of the show she stopped to scream, “If you’ve ever had someone ever tell you you’re not good enough, you can’t write well enough, you can’t sing well enough, you’ll never win a Grammy – this is for them!” I had none but pure respect for her, because I believe that all of us could relate as we have had at least one person doubting our abilities.

Lady Gaga is a main advocate of the LGBT movement, but does that mean I cannot appreciate her music? Before she ended the show she said something along the line of “If you support equality raise your hands!” True, she’s talking about sexual equality. But on the other hand, I felt like she was talking to me, too. No, I’m not that liberal – I’m talking about social and economic equality. My mind never wanders too far from my homework, I guess. Furthermore, being a minority in a foreign land really opens your eyes to the massive effect of openness and acceptance. For that, I feel that there is some good for Malays in Malaysia to listen to a little bit of Gaga in order to appreciate your legal status better. After all, she did sang "Believe capital H-I-M"...and I do.

-C-

Rolling in mudd of gold

2011-02-15T11:00:00.008-05:00

It has been the trend nowadays to congratulate someone on his birthday by saying, “You’re so-and-so YOUNG!” Never been a fan of current trends, I prefer not to be wished this specific way. I’m not turning twenty-two years young, I’m now twenty-two years OLD, and beyond doubt proud of it. With age comes wisdom, no matter how many times one hears the saying “age is just a number”. That is why we are supposed to respect the old, for they are wiser, even if you are ‘smarter’. Having realized all these, I paused to think of the people who have helped keep me grounded whilst growing up, and I can’t think of any better people to be surrounded with than my five wonderful best friends. Instead of talking about myself, I want to dedicate my birthday post to the five most amazing people I’ve met: Adilah, Syafiqa, Zaida, Asilah, and Fayyadhah. I’m truly blessed. Growing up is such a difficult phase, and God kept me in the company of the best people out there.

Asilah
Where do I even begin talking about our friendship? From mere classmates, we grew inseparable during our last years of high school, and I’m grateful for that. You are such a brave person, and though I’ve said that many times, I’m not sure I’ve said it enough for you to believe me. You’re brave. You’re a brave young girl, even when we joked of you being the most naïve among us. God knows your strength, the kind that I don’t think the rest of us possessed at such young age. You’re beautiful in all you awkwardness, then. Now of course it’s obvious to all that crossed your path how you’ve blossomed into the confident woman you are, ready to take on the world head-on. For teaching me to be patient and nice, I owe you a big one Mrs. Ballack-Adams-Skywalker, the should-be princess of Wales.

Syafiqa
My first hubby, the coolest girl I’ve ever met! Oh we had our fun, didn’t we? The most laid-back, yet principled person I know. From torturing me up the hill of Melawati by cycling our way, to holding me while I cried and trusted you with my darkest secret that until now only you know of. It is your gift to have that balance of grace and openness. Plus, your wisdom and maturity are comforting when we were surrounded by whiny fifteen and sixteen year olds. You and I, we both get that life does not always go the way we hope for, and still there is no need to complain of the tiniest distress when there are ninety-nine other things to be grateful for. Both passionate and realistic, you taught me to be real. Thank you, hubby.

Adilah
My sweet, quirky, humble Adilah. My friend of friends that I pray each day will not change a bit, except to be more awesome than she already is. When I think of you, the first think that comes to mind is how close to earth you are – something that your height simply does not do justice to! Heck, I can’t even believe I have a friend who owns her own Mini Cooper! Yet, if it’s up to her, she would have preferred to keep that a secret because she is not lame and knows that she is more than her wealth. Bigger things define who she is, such as perseverance and determination. Seeing you in all your struggle trying to reach your dream is a beautiful reminder that just because something seems out of reach, it is not unreachable; that is the best gift any friend could give me.

Zaida
Eighteen years. That should pretty much sum it up. If our friendship is a lesson on life, we would have graduated! I don’t know if I’ve ever told you this, but I’ve always felt like a sister to you. We play together, we go home together, but we don’t go to school together. Someone who has truly watched me grow up, you could take one look at me and know not only what I’m feeling, but also what I’m thinking. We laughed, we joked, and when it’s time to be honest, we don’t cry our eyes out – we cry our hearts out. How you trusted me with so much, I cannot be more flattered to have someone loving me as much as you do. You came to all three of my weddings; I’ll try to go to all your anniversaries if I could! Aku sayang kau.

Fayyadhah
Two posts I’ve written about this young woman, yet they are not enough. How to end describing this incredible future doctor when she has more to offer? One look at us and it is apparent we are total opposites of each other. But God works in mysterious ways and the one person that is the least likely to understand me turns out to be the one person who understands me most. The only person that is smart enough to know when to tell me off, and when to wait it out. The person that has such emotional depth that it is unlucky not many seem to be able to recognize and appreciate that. The person that has to fight against all the odds only to win every battle she faces. She is definitely the best friend every one wish they had.

But then, when I take a step further to see all that’s in front of me from a different perspective, I try to connect the dots to find the common denominator among all of us, and that is when it hits me: we were brought up by equally, if not more, superbly remarkable parents. Our parents were part of the Baby Boom Generation, those who were born in a world once so entrenched in tradition, they had to find their own way through a progressive time. Our parents grew up having experienced the best of both worlds. Enveloped by a spirit of innovation and independence, they cease to lose their way because they had the backbone of a local fighter, not disenchanted by the shadow of the imperialist West mentality. With this foundation, my friends and I found ourselves in such households where we were taught to put our sights on the highest mountain, but our heads close to the earth we were created from. Though the world may seem like it is everything to the young mind, there is actually much more than these mortal pleasures. Pure happiness and contentment does not come from owning the best or being the best – it is from acting the best. And the best imaginable way to lead our life is through respect, wisdom, humility, consideration, dignity, courage, faith, and basically by being nice to one another – something all five of my friends are masters of. For teaching us how to stay grounded and cultured when faced with an adverse environment, I dedicate this post to our mothers and fathers, those still living and those already returned to God.

Thank you, Ibu and Papa for showing me the way, I do love you.

-C-

p/s: A shout-out to Sofiya, another great person I've met. Though we've only been friends for four years (4 years already?!), I know I want my kids to grow up just like you. I've always said to Rassyid, and to anyone willing to hear, when it's my time, I want to raise my kids the way your parents raised you and your three sisters. All four of you possessed the kind of mental, emotional - and most importantly - spiritual intelligence that I can only pray my kids shall have one day. Even in college, God kept a good friend nearby.

A game of catch-up

2011-01-26T15:28:00.008-05:00

USA Today reported last week that a research on American college students showed little improvements in their critical thinking, analytical reasoning, and writing skill, especially during their first two years of college. When I saw the headline I was shocked, and a bit reluctant to read the article further. Not that I fanatically idolize the American education system (which is currently seeing the rise of Asian students mastering it), but what I was mostly afraid of was to find my worst fear imprinted between the lines – that I am wasting my time here. Yet, somewhere at the back of my mind I know that could not be possible, for seven out of the top 10 universities in the world are in the United States. Some argue that that is based on the number and quality of post-graduate research these universities produced. So, if the professors are producing fine research, shouldn’t their undergraduate students highly benefit from encounters with these great academicians too?

Then, somewhere at the bottom of the page they discussed the research methodology which led to their conclusion. Apparently, sophomores do not learn much based on the fact that almost half of the students in the research reported enrolling in courses where they read less than 40 pages a week, and wrote less than 20 pages per semester. And my focused immediately shifted to beautiful Malaysia.

When I was INTI, I remember most lecturers giving out handouts and notes that we are supposed to study for exams. With these notes, according to them, we need not bother buying or reading the 500+ pages of a textbook – these teachers slaved for us to gather the most important information in order to help us ‘score’. With these notes, we are expected to answer 3-hour-long midterm and final exams. Essays are to be written in the exam hall (which is ridiculous, because how can you do anything BUT regurgitate in such short period?). Thus, if students in the US are learning so little, how much are Malaysian undergraduates learning each year? See, people back home like to complain that our exams are designed only for students to regurgitate information, which I do not disapprove of altogether. But if students are made to memorize something they won’t remember the next day, the least a teacher could do is to help them improve other skills that would be beneficial not only in the workplace, but also in their day-to-day life.

Maybe it’s just INTI, I’m not sure, I've only been to one higher learning institution in Malaysia. Probably other universities do make their students read a minimum of 40 pages per week, per subject - like we do here - and if so, that is awesome. But I honestly doubt it because of the many things I read concerning our graduates weak communication – English and Malay – skills. I’m not talking about a weak grasp on grammar and tatabahasa; I’m talking about the ability to structure their thoughts coherently, and be able to critically examine the work of others. If we were to take mini-steps to a better higher-education system, I say we work on that first.

I love Malaysia, and I have none but love and respect for my fellow students. I just feel that we've heard enough arguments from both sides that it is time we finally take some actions. You game?

-C-

Shine Bright

2011-01-13T23:49:00.001-05:00

Time magazine reported on January 13th that the positions of the stars as conventionally accepted are actually incorrect, according to the Minnesota Planetarium Society.

Being one who has always been fascinated by this field of 'science', I can't help but to search for a compatibility measure based on this new finding.

I was, and still is an Aquarius, which is good news because I don't want to be any other but. Rassyid, however, was a Capricorn, but is now a Sagittarius! When he was a Capricorn, we are incompatible, according to 'the stars'. As a Sagittarius, it is a different story, and a much better description of our relationship.

"An easy, detached outlook brings these two together as romantic friends. There's so much to learn about and experience, and their life gets off to an adventurous start. A shared love of travel, exotic cuisines, and cutting edge culture keeps them on the go. Both get swept up in ideas and visions, and there's always more out there to ponder and discuss. They're free to venture out of bounds in conversation, because neither will judge. The sparks for this romance often begin in the mind, and from the mental rapport they create.

As a couple, they're social and throw great parties. They meld together two networks of people, enlarging their own sphere ever wider. Their compassion and sense of justice might lead them to fight for movements or causes. To be sure, they're up on the latest trends, often on a global scale. Their home decor could be an eclectic, but colorful collection of souvenirs from their travels. Both have eyes fixed on the horizon, and generally share an optimistic outlook. If they break up, there's a chance of remaining friends. And if they stay together, it'll no doubt be one exciting, soul-enriching tandem journey. "

(http://astrology.about.com/od/sagittariuslovematches/qt/SadgeAquarius.htm)

Check out your new stars:

Capricorn: Jan. 20-Feb. 16.
Aquarius: Feb. 16-March 11.
Pisces: March 11-April 18.
Aries: April 18-May 13.
Taurus: May 13-June 21.
Gemini: June 21-July 20.
Cancer: July 20-Aug. 10.
Leo: Aug. 10-Sept. 16.
Virgo: Sept. 16-Oct. 30.
Libra: Oct. 30-Nov. 23.
Scorpio: Nov. 23-29.
Ophiuchus: Nov. 29-Dec. 17. (This is new — read all about the Ophiuchus way of life here)
Sagittarius: Dec. 17-Jan. 20.

-C-

A pillow and a soft place

2011-01-13T21:42:00.005-05:00

I’ve wanted to write on this topic for a while now, but haven’t had the chance to properly form the words in my head. Though not further ahead in the department of sufficient material for me to work on, I’ll try my best to ultimately convey the message.

Raihan made popular the sentence “Iman tak dapat diwarisi dari seorang ayah yang bertaqwa (piety can’t be inherited from a God-fearing father).” But my concern is precisely not that; it is the nature of the opposite: how come we seldom hear people stress about wickedness and ignorance not being laid on the table for inheritance either? Putting fear into someone is a method of conditioning, and so is motivation.

We see, and we hear, a lot of stories about pious parents that are tested by God with daughters and sons that are hard to be disciplined, much less respecting of elders. Although there are some religious arguments of kids being the mirror of their parents’ past, I’m not going to dwell into that. The truth holds that parents can mold their children only so much, and the rest is left in prayers to our Lord.

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim

Because it was grassy and wanted wear,

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I marked the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

by Robert Frost

But then, stories of children from ignorant parents are not as popularly – or ever – read in a forwarded email. Why? Are their stories less important? There are those out there who have ignorant parents, either by circumstances or choice, yet were led by the light of hidayah in their hearts in due course. How did that happen? The same entity that is feared by most parents to have a bad influence on their child could be at work here – friends. There is no telling how, and when, a person might diverge from his or her early experiences, but when it happens, there is no telling the direction in which the wind will blow.

Not a parent myself, I could not possibly comprehend the matter to make a personal comment. But what I have are cases that point to one so many directions that the only conclusion I can make is that piety at the end of the day is worthless if the underlying values of human relationships are not taught from an early age. Parents that only teach of the Day of Resurrection should not be too shocked to find their kids astray if at the same time they are taught to measure success by the number of zeros in their bank accounts. At the same time, non-observing parents that teach humility can unknowingly lead their child to the right people, thus the right path. Isn't life wonderful in all its unpredictability, as nobody is perfect except for Him.

To a specific friend who has an inkling as to where this post comes from, yes, I am so proud of you. In all your hardship and frustration, you find yourself among the lucky few who had God by their sides. I know you are scared, but don’t be, because I believe in you.

-C-

Twos :)

2011-01-10T19:12:00.002-05:00

Misconception of a Beauty

2010-12-31T16:24:00.001-05:00

It was probably the year 2000 – an entire decade ago – when I first learned of the word soul-mate. I was so intrigued by the word that I could not wait a second longer to find my own 'soul-mate'. It was so surreal to the mind of an eleven year old how two people could have souls that were created specifically to relate and respond to each other. Could two people really be meant together, forever? On such vague promises, I made a pact with my best friend, Fayyadhah, that regardless of our future, regardless of the men that would enter our lives, WE would be soul-mates (it was our own version of a different kind of BFFs).

Ironically, with romantic love, there was a period in my life when I was highly skeptical of it. I remember preaching that love doesn’t exist. I suddenly stopped believing that a man and a woman could possibly be soul-mates for life. How can a child not think so when the rate of infidelity and divorces is always on the rise? Since then, I have always viewed marriage as a contract between two people who happened to meet at the right time in their lives to live together with mutual respect, expecting nothing more. Honestly, I have not changed much in that regard.

However, I am not altogether hopeless, thankfully! I now believe that love does exist. Being compassionate as it is, I discovered that it is not impossible to resurrect a love long gone. Having said so, my fascination with soul-mates is currently a mere flicker of my past. Personally, there is no such thing as “if the person comes back then he is yours”. There needs to be work and a genuine effort to rekindle – on both sides.

Love can be both strong and fragile. As long as it is nurtured, it can be the fairytale of every girl’s dream. True love’s kiss does not belong in this world. True love is the person who cares and respects you enough to treat you as the unique individual you are, and not as a prisoner in a game of tug-of-war. Just because someone has all the same qualities you cherish, it does not automatically make him or her The One. I feel sad when I read about women accepting physical or mental abuse out of fear of losing her ‘true love’. Even though it is inherently work, love should be pleasant – not the red-hot candle-lit dinner kind of love – but the kind that knows someone will unconditionally have your back, which interestingly does not need to be between two people who are supposed soul mates.

Although I have been best friends with Fayyadhah for more than a decade now, that does not mean we are soul-mates, and neither does that mean I can take her for granted. I have learned that nothing is truly given. We could last despite the time and distance apart because we work on our friendship. It is true that I feel she is one of my many friends that gets me, but that is just a minor ingredient in the whole recipe. The love between Fayyadhah and me is based highly on us making time to work on our friendship. Basically, just because a relationship is established, it does not make it permanent.

Going into the New Decade, my resolution is a simple one: I want to work harder on nurturing the massive love I feel around me every day. I am ready to do a little spring cleaning and get rid off as many negativity – or toxic as I love to call it – in my life so that I can create a reality that does not necessarily be smooth-sailing, nonetheless, very much worthwhile to live in.

-C-

Friends...

2010-12-15T03:47:00.000-05:00

I've never had this much support for a looong time :) It's nice to learn who your true friends are. My favorite part? In between two AMAZING conversations, I suddenly received a "Hello!" email from Fayyadhah all the way in India! She didn't know how I was doing, or the crap that I had to wipe off my face (and wall), yet somehow we kind of have a telepathic ability to sense each other's need. Oh I love my friends, and I love my life, totally :)

-C-

In less than 140 characters…

2010-12-13T12:50:00.006-05:00

…or the how many characters allowed by Facebook to write a status update. It was a stupid, sleep-induced mistake for me to assume my friends could get the gist of what I meant in a short paragraph. Therefore I’m going to use this other mean I have as a vehicle to explain what happened.

The whole situation escalated partly because I did not stand my ground on what I meant. Even though I wrote that I was angry, most of all I was disappointed. Let’s just say that seeing the picture was kind of the last straw for me. I did not mean to point my finger at anyone. That was the reason I did not point Zaim towards her profile page; I felt it unnecessary. I wasn’t mad at her, I was mad at the state of affairs of Muslims in general; the same reason I am mad at Turkey, the nation; the same reason I wrote that post a while ago about the Adam Lambert concert. I am disappointed that people, who proudly proclaim they are Muslims, are also questioning the word of God. Maybe I’m the weak one for being unable to comprehend their thinking, but I find it absurd.

If an individual makes a mistake, I have absolutely no problem. I’ve had friends who love wearing revealing clothes and enjoy a good party since…since we were at the age where we were allowed to go out without supervision. She was not the first Muslim-Malay I saw wearing a bikini, and neither is she the first who posted the picture online. I’ve never had a problem with individual choices. But my problem is when a person mixes being proud of a wrong, with being proud as a Muslim.

I have to thank Kumayl for doing a better job at explaining. Of course someone who drinks has the right, and is encouraged to, remember and thank God. A person’s iman, much like mine, fluctuates all the time. But how can a person who is drinking remembers God at the same time? It shows how shallow that person is till a point that God is just part of a sentence you blurted out of culture, not out of true belief. It becomes fitnah. Islam is a very, very beautiful religion, where it is a religion of faith and practice. Just believing in God is not enough, and that is where the five pillars of Islam comes in. Islam is beautiful if it is practised as a whole. Yet, everyone has the right to act the way they wish, but please, don’t drag Islam’s beautiful name with your acts.

I know the famous argument made by people who disagree with me, including a former Minister of International Trade and Industry: “But people who are clad from head to toe in an abaya are also sometimes rude, selfish, arrogant, and loves to gossip, thus degrading their status as a Muslim too.” I totally agree100%. Just because someone is covered from head to toe does not justify her having a filthy heart. But I will always remember my favorite defense made by a teacher to that argument: “If someone who remembers God enough in her everyday activities to cover herself is still not a perfect person, just imagine what kind of things a person who doesn’t respect God enough to follow his rule is willing to do.”

This blog may sound arrogant, but these are not my words, these are the words of the Almighty you profess to believe in, and He, the creator of all, has the right to be proud, even though He is not.

At the end of the night, I discovered who my true friends are. Friends are people who when they argue and fight, they focus on the specific issue at hand. Friends, when they disagree with you, do not attack your personality. Friends, when realized they had make a mistake, will immediately apologize as a friendship is worth much more than an inflated ego. I learned last night who my true friends are.

When I went to sleep last night, I slept like a log because of two things:

1. I was happy that I had the strength to spread a piece of God’s words, even though it was a risky thing to do in a world – especially on the World Wide Web – where everyone is concern over conformity.

2. Because of the risk, I discovered who my true friends are :)

Now the story hasn’t ended yet. Right before I went to sleep, I received a very sweet, emotional, and sincere personal message from the girl I was supposedly attacking. Not only did she forgive me, but she also apologized for her behavior because as a Muslim, she knows what’s right and what’s wrong, and that it was just a matter of lack of judgment, not of questioning God’s laws. And for that, I know I did the right thing.

-C-

White lies, white secrets.

2010-12-01T15:07:00.001-05:00

To a certain degree, I am more liberal than most Malaysians. With Reason, I believe that human beings have the rights and the capabilities to make his or her decision based on various rules and guidelines. But recent events showed me that on the international platform, I am very conservative than most young idealists my age.

I do not like what Wikileaks is doing to the world. I firmly believe that there are many things in this world that not everybody can understand, thus, they do not need to know of these things - much like how we could not possibly understand some of God's great creations. I am talking about international diplomacy. Diplomacy is 'sacred'. Why do you think diplomats get to live in the big houses and drive the big cars? Diplomacy is difficult and the decisions made can be fragile. If the public get their hands on these information, the fanatics will most probably than not infer from them what they only wish to believe.

Pessimism is permitted when one is talking about the general public. It is true, though, that people who seek information on Wikileaks are those who are most interested and therefore more informed about specific matters, but I am more afraid of those who are making their judgment on issues bigger than their lives thinking that they can belittle the power of the states.

The general public needs to understand that diplomacy and militaristic decisions have to be made behind closed doors because they need to be frank in order to achieve immediate result. Yes, the consequences are not always pretty but this is international diplomacy, not a petty argument between two nosy neighbors. If everybody wants to have a say in it, nothing can ever be done, only creating a world where we are enslaved to a majority that really does care about their next meal.

If states cannot trust other states in a flat world, no states would be able to protect their citizens from the bigger enemies out there. No states would want to share important information for fear of irresponsible leaks, and we will soon return to a time when snails carry our mails.

-C-

Water In The Sand

2010-11-12T00:27:00.001-05:00

She walks on barefoot looking for strength
Reached the sea to walk right back
She finds nothing reflecting the laugh
Once so jovial not rotten enough
I stooped and looked for trace of light
A barren land provide with none
In absence we find thee, pride
Tears of salt for none we felt
Finding the cloak void with answers
Vomiting words from empty thought
Circling where she sought to after
A crescent faith shall not discover
Guns and barrels in ways of both
Foreseeing ash
Still wind and black cloud
My undesired love speaks none but death
She scratched the wall of green and white
Bitter is the name of might
Never good was any side
Once shallow fog encloses the lies
She danced with legs up to her eyes
Invisible hand behind her arms
The power of voice she so despise
Far from sight those who decide
To ride a shooting little star
To wave old solemn days behind
Impossible for a scar to resemble
Scarcity of life not to remember
People in green blew and shoved
Though red is violent splashed on Blue
A hollow throat there came a shout
Please, please, please
Her head I hold
Her body I see
Falling bombs of piercing cold
History entangles two entities
History of a future need to escape
Not to be caught in wars of faith
Into the sea the stones are slipped
Love is all kinds of blind that bleed

-C-

When a snake with two toungues disguises as a blue bird

2010-10-14T22:53:00.003-04:00

On Thursday Adam Lambert performed his first concert in Malaysia. Similarly to other artists before him, his visit was highly criticized. But this time it is not because of his performance, but because of his lifestyle. It is also not a wonder that the most vocal of the protests came from PAS.

I’m no stranger to concerts. I’ve been to my share of concerts by western musician and had honestly enjoyed myself. So you could trust me that what I’m going to say is purely rational, not emotional.

When PAS protested, they have their reasons. Maybe not everyone agrees with them, but on what basis, may I ask, do these people counter-protest PAS? PAS stands for Islam. Obviously they do not have a lot of fans, but if Islam, or PAS, compromises to the demands of the people who do not know what’s up in the sky and below in the ground, then the religion defeats its purpose as a mechanism to keep society peaceful.

I am fully aware that Adam Lambert took it to his twitter account to say that he finds the commotion uncalled for because he is not preaching for gay rights, but solely for the rights to love. Sounds acceptable to a liberal’s mind. But if the liberals want their rights to be respected, they need to be sensitive of Malaysia’s Muslim-majority population and what these people believe in. I know Malaysia is a multi-cultural, multi-religious country, and those who do not believe in the teachings of Islam should have the freedom to lead their life without the constraints of Islamic teachings – including their freedom to go to concerts. But what saddens me is when MUSLIMS question the actions of PAS members, and are embarrassed by how the western media portrays Malaysia.

Let me start with the western perception. Borrowing from Plato (an obviously non-Muslim philosopher), we should NOT care about what the masses think because the masses DO NOT KNOW what is the right thing in the first place. They (the media) do not have knowledge of what’s beyond their senses. So who cares if TMZ ridicules Malaysia? First of all, they do not hold the same values as us, and second of all, their words do not matter except to those who pay attention! And those who pay attention to entertainment news make up a very small number of the population.

My second argument is a much simpler one. If as a Muslim you are embarrassed of the RIGHT thing, then don’t call yourself one. It is more embarrassing that when Facebook has a “Draw Muhammad” competition you called them insensitive, but when at home you want to be the bully and call other Malaysians embarrassing. You are the embarrassment for you speak out of ignorance, and do not have a coherent opinion.

Finally, I repeat that I am a concert-goer myself. If Adam Lambert comes to Pittsburgh, I’ll be among the first to get his tickets. Not to mention that I have a couple of friends who are gay, therefore I am not homophobic. I acknowledge my friends for who they are, without publicly condemning or accepting their lifestyle. That is between them and the God they believe in. All I know is that my knowledge is limited and I do not intend to act all-knowingly on such fragile ground.

Thus neither should you.

-C-

Mine

2010-10-11T15:09:00.001-04:00

Just HAVE to post this song. Cried the first time watching it.

"...you...left a small town never looked back"

"I was a flight risk, with a fear of falling"

"you made a rebel of a...careful daughter"

"you learned my secrets and you figured out why I'm guarded"

"...bills to pay, ...nothing figured out"

"...that fight 2:30 am"

"braced myself for the goodbye...you took me by surprise...you said, 'I'll never leave you alone'"

"THE BEST THING THAT HAS EVER BEEN MINE"

Story of moi :)

-C-

Where've I been?

2010-09-27T13:51:00.000-04:00

I haven't written anything on my daily activities since...we were back in Nilai.

I haven't written anything on my musings since...last Ramadhan.

What has happened?

Truth be told, TOO MANY.

I've been trying to be a superwoman, superwife, and superstudent. Getting sick once a while is the norm. But don't worry, I know those are my body's way of saying, "Slow down!" Yet I can't! Once I'm on a roll, only a train could stop me.

See, I've been learning SO much this semester and I'm loving it! Not of differentiation to get infinity, or of chemicals, or of drawing lesson, but of life's philosophy - western philosophy to be precise. Now I'm starting to understand why Elly loves it. These are precious lessons I believe a lot of people especially in Malaysia choose to ignore because it's deemed unimportant. To each his own, I always say to my husband.

Another thing I'm loving this semester is the fact that I'm FINALLY getting to understand Malaysia's electorate better. Who could have thought we have much in common with Americans? I'm starting to be able to better dissect Malaysia's politics. I guess that is why I no longer want to say so much nowadays, because after each class, it becomes more apparent that whatever I say, a lot of people won't understand because they scream with obsession, not with precision.

And finally, I have a side 'thing' now. Wait, make that two.

I guess my last words would be, Wish Me Luck!

-C-

Help in the Holy Month

2010-08-27T03:32:00.001-04:00

I know that I thought it won't be a smooth journey coming back to the US, but I was delightfully mistaken. There weren't as many glitches as presumed. I should be forgiven for thinking so as before we left, I called Korean Air to find out that Rassyid and I won't be sitting together for our THIRTEEN hour flight from Seoul to Washington. Next, I wasn't able to check us in for our flight to Pittsburgh. And when we arrived at KLIA, they couldn't print out Rassyid's boarding pass to DC supposedly because, and I quote, "Because his name has Bin and Abdul. They will want to do a checkup at Seoul."

But I tried to be optimistic. There will be ways around all these. Because at the end of the day, we HAVE to find ways around it.

After arriving at Incheon, the first thing we did was getting Rassyid his boarding pass to DC. Alhamdulillah, they didn't ask to do any checks on his background and above that, we GOT to sit together! We were ecstatic. We then went to find the prayer room and prayed, and thanked God for all his help. Unfortunately, our problems began again when I still couldn't check us in using the online check in feature at US Airways's website for our flight to Pittsburgh.

Once touched down in DC, I was thinking, this is it, immigration. But again, everything went smoothly than expected! The immigration officer was super nice. There was no "Is Malaysia on 'the list'?" thing that we went through last year. It was super quick.

After re-checking our bags bound for Pittsburgh, we went to get our boarding passes. On my e-ticket, it says we will be taking US Airways, but at the airport everyone (yes, all of FOUR people I asked), pointed me toward United Airlines. I thought, maybe that's why I couldn't check in through US Airways's website. But at United's self check-in kiosk, I faced the same problem. I don't want for us to repeat the same thing that happened while checking in for Delta from Pittsburgh to NY, where they couldn't find our name, or a seat for us, or anything for the matter. But no, we were very lucky as it didn't take long for them to help print out our boarding passes.

After that, we went to find the 'prayer room', which was actually an open space in Dulles where Muslims pray. We got to join in the Zuhur jamaah just in time. That was a nice experience.

On our way to security check, I foresaw 'the cubicle', and minutes wasted for them to tap my head only to find nothing. Yet, again, everything went not as expected and they simply let me through! Even though it was flashing orange on the security level - indicating High Risk. How trusting they are of me now.

The only major problem, after 26 hours of travel, was that our luggage didn't arrive with us at Pittsburgh. Apparently they were left behind at Dulles. However, it was not just us, four others on the same flight had our problem too. We left with our report, and took a Super Shuttle home.

Lailee was there, fatter than ever, and the three of us waited for our luggage which arrived at 11 pm. Not bad.

All I can say is, thank God for surah al-Inshirah. Words of God I wet my lips with the whole 28 hours. If there're still doubt over the power of this surah to lessen any worries, I have proofs that it works (even though I've always believed so).

-C-

My Ramadhan Wish

2010-08-15T01:59:00.000-04:00

In our never-ending attempt at soul-searching, no one answer of life’s many questions will be as clearly apparent as we wish for it to be. Sometimes, we unexpectedly contradict ourselves of what is right from what we believe in. During this month-long journey to remain true to who I am – a person firmly against blind faith – I'd like for others to stay true to what Islam is truly about too.

I realize that when I say things like that – to think and not to follow – people get scared and assumed I’d be swinging from one side to another every few seconds. But I believe these people need to ask themselves, why are they so scared to use the best gift awarded by God to them – their mind? I do understand that certain things we can’t comprehend do need a helping hand to guide us through. But for things much closer to our heart, why not do a thorough operation? Don’t be scared. If there is an unshakable belief that Islam is the truth, should we not believe that the more time one spends thinking, the more one will see and feel how real Islam is?

Last month my best friend gave me a simple book written by a very interesting man. The interesting part was not who he is, but of his views on things that matter. Finally I found someone who can put what I’ve been thinking and feeling in plain words.

Islam is not a religion of empty practices. Islam is a combination of the heart, mind, and physical self. None should be left behind if one is to be considered a Muslim.

When looking at statistics, the number that usually comes up is that of a very small amount of Muslim extremists. Is that a true estimate? What kinds of extremism were they talking about? Maybe most of us do not have the slightest idea of how to differentiate among lethal chemicals, but what about ideas of self-supremacy? Isn’t that more hazardous to mankind? I'm not trying to make a bad name for my fellow brothers and sisters, but it's time for them to realize the effects of their actions.

The Prophet was a man of kindness and grace. He taught us to follow his path when passing through life. But how many of us when ticked off by the smallest of provocations do we talk about boycotts? About generalizing a certain race or religion as ‘evil’. Did we not remember what the Bush administration used to call us?

In the book previously mentioned, the author brilliantly made an analogy of the Prophet’s deeds and sayings as the used and broken memorabilia in our homes: we do not wish for them to be taken yet we do not make full use them either. When New Yorkers object to the building of a mosque and community center near ground zero, we shout and we scream. But how many of us actually spend our days during Ramadhan trying to seek as many blessings from God as humanly possible? Which is more important? What is our priority?

Stop making huge deals out of small worldly problems; start practicing the little things in life that the Prophet taught over a thousand years ago. Its accumulation would mean more to us later than making another country suffer the same way we did. Revenge is never good on a personal basis, what makes us think it’s permissible on a bigger level – or any level?

The memorabilia, if you use it, then nobody would have the guts to make fun of it, much less snatch it away from you, no? Think.

Don’t look far, search within yourself. What have you done to make them understand and respect our beautiful religion?

-C-

Don't think again when you know what you saw.

2010-07-19T10:36:00.001-04:00

If anybody who thinks they knew me dare say I'm a spoiled kid who easily gets everything I screamed for, I wish for them to stay a week with me and see how much Ringgit truly flows out of my own - a lot.

Even for the most basic of needs, from toothbrushes to a new sandal to replace a pair of torn oldies, I have to dig out my own cash - and I'm not working.

I don't get free shirts because they're on sale.

Talk of a dream for a few luxuries - it's either I've saved enough for it or my husband has to listen to my whines - and that's how I'm kept at home all months long.

I'm proud to say most things I do have, I earned. Take my dslr - I got it for a special occasion.

I can't whine for things. Trust me, I've tried, it seldom work.

It's not that I'm ungrateful for the fines I do have, it just breaks my heart in two when they think I'm spoiled when my hints for a few dough always fall on deaf ears - whomever's it might be.

-C-

Ways to bring honor - the hard way

2010-07-07T03:30:00.003-04:00

At a time when individualism is advocated as the answer to not only surviving, but most importantly to success, how much is too much of a uniqueness one should be proud of owning in relative to one’s personality? Do we – all of us – truly believe that conformation is only part of a past forgettable by the best of us? What is rebellion if not the part of a person we dare not be?

In the Chinese poem the Ballad of Mulan, the heroine, Hua Mulan, joined the army when only males were supposed to defend the country. Or when talking in a more familiar territory, the heroine Mulan in the Disney animated film of the same title, it is not only her decision to do the unthinkable that makes her different, it is also her traits that were exaggeratedly portrayed during the opening scenes of dancing and singing whilst getting ready to meet a matchmaker that introduce us to a more complex individual.

But, is her personality really complex, or is it complex because society refuses to see her as she is until it is agreed for her to stop all eccentricities in the name of acceptance?

At the end of the movie, after all her adventures involving an eagle-whistler and a talking dragon neared to an end, she returned home with the sword of the enemy, and a gold medal by the emperor. All these presented to her father, yet he did none but hugged her. And so we found out that she is, and always will be, loved by her family without having to endure harsh weather and war in her effort to bring honor to the family – finally.

Sometimes I wonder, after centuries of the same story being told, why hasn’t the epic of fighting insecurities be in favor of a more open-minded society which realizes a cocoon is no more but a danger in creating a rigid community that knows not a way of speaking love, only of forcing it?

After Mulan’s ridiculous failed attempt at finding a perfect match, her father sat by her and said these unforgettable words: “My my, what beautiful blossoms we have this year. But look, this one’s late, but I’ll bet that when it blooms it will be the most beautiful of all.”

Unfortunately, one can’t expect everyone in life to be as well-articulated as a Disney writer, eh?

-C-

Liberals, nothing more than those passionate in liberating others.

2010-06-21T11:00:00.000-04:00

“In the name of Allah the most gracious and most merciful.” More than just a sentence, it is an utterance of faith in one omnipotent God, declared by Muslims all around the world before committing even the simplest of deeds. An act so entrenched, it has been taken for granted by those caring only to wet their lips with these beautiful names of Allah, without thoroughly embracing their meanings by heart.

Allah is ar-Rahman, the most Beneficent, the most Gracious. Allah, God of all things living and not, does not discriminate according to blood, family-line, religion, and yes, including race, in awarding His bountiful wealth to a person deserving of what he had worked for.

A person not learned in the laws of God, I could not speak for the many interpretations of God’s kindness. Yet, one thing I do understand is that a number of ways could be used in attempts to explain fairness and equality in various economics terms.

Based on an idea suggested by one John Nash in his 1950 doctorate dissertation in Princeton, the best result achievable by a group of players is when all involved acted in the interest of the group, not of individual preferences. In other words, there is no harm, only goodness, that could come out of sharing, rather than fighting. John Nash may be the one who discovered the theory; the result, however, had been promised by God thousands of years back.

The embarrassing question we cannot avoid but to ask ourselves now is, why do more citizens of Malaysia – in fact, let’s call them the majority – believe so much in the pessimistic view of zero-sum game, that they are afraid to face even the most inevitable challenges of life?

Human beings are created by God from sounding clay, in an array of tones from dark to fair, not for us to shout our claims of which land belongs to who, but to appreciate the differences in us as the glue that has been keeping human relationship from falling apart as God prefers not for one group to feel above another by what granted to them, except only of humility.

With all due respect, I ask, what is a constitution except words written by mortal human beings who did not have the ability to foresee the coming future even if they had wanted to?

Malaysia may be a young country, but based on human time, it had been a while now since we last saw 1957, and the Malaysians that are currently living here are no different from their neighbors except for the limitations put in their way by those easily brought down from vulnerable seats of power.

We are a scared bunch of people. Regrettably, because of our unwarranted fear, not only are we restricting the gains of those we are afraid of facing in a game of strength and perseverance, but because of negative-sum game, indirectly we are putting a constraint to what we can fully achieve too. God is fair, and karma is mean.

I’m proud of 1Malaysia. In fact, why don’t we stretch it further to include 1World?

The challenge now is, to those who have been eating the cili padis, are you too arrogant to defy the law of God for those written by men? Is being Malay, a race, a color of the skin, that is only as pure as the Gombak river, more important to you than being a Muslim, a religion, unchanged by neither time nor weather?

Wallahualam.

-C-

Peace, an unrealistic term, used realistically

2010-06-09T11:33:00.020-04:00

terrorism [ˈtɛrəˌrɪzəm] n shocking acts of violence in which the principal purpose is not destruction itself but the dramatic and psychological effects on populations and governments

The world we are currently living in is unknowingly divided into two, the one shared with others, and another that others choose to keep to themselves, an effect of our own subconscious mind. Physical reality is not made up of atoms and matters; instead, it is made up of our own definition on particular matters.

Before 9/11, the word 'terrorism' was simply defined as the practice of terror, with no hidden message, only truth that comes from adding the English suffix of –ism. Now, ten years after the scare of Y2K, the world has yet to agree upon a universal definition of a word that was once neither flashed nor stamped in the media every time a bomb explodes in some remote places in the world.

Yet, according to the world that we live in today, terrorism is what we choose to call the actions of those who do not abide by conventional laws of war and peace. The question is, “Who decides who gets into the list, and who to be left out?”

The act of terrorism is not exclusively a strategy of one tribe or, say, religion. Terrorist groups can be found in various locations on the map including the Far East in the form of Aleph in Japan, and to as far west in the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia, or FARC. These very distinct groups use similarly harmful methods as a way to call attention to their causes, since there is very limited use to the human voice if no ear chooses to listen. Destruction is a small price to pay for what these groups deemed as the greater cause. Anybody with a right mind knows no such justification is justification enough.

In international politics, it must be understood that terrorism can be used by both state and non-state actors. Most commonly, though, more not-state actors choose to hide behind the smoking veil of terrorism because they are disproportionately weaker than the state, or any power, they are rebelling against. On the other hand, states do have an incentive to use terrorism too, especially during a losing battle, to scare their own people or other states, while at the same time avoiding the blame of starting a psychological battle by using surrogate non-state actors.

Unfortunately, there are also a handful of states, committing acts so horrendous they terrorize those dwarfed by their standard of prowess, with no political purpose, using no surrogate actors, except those employed by the states themselves. What do we make of them? Do we leave them alone in the name of self-autonomy? If so, where is the line between humanity and sovereignty? What are we willing to give up in order to maintain world order? If we choose to let blood be spilled to stand up for a belief in the Westphalian system of four hundred years ago, are we any different from those whom the word ‘terrorist’ rolled out of our tongues in spits when their names are mentioned?

Simply, justice does not exist. If such a thing has ever walked and breathed on this earth, where has it been all this while as we quietly watched states take mothers away from sons, nephews away from uncles, and friends away from each other? Where is this justice when cases of families torn apart by the power of the state are to be filed under the eyes of no observer? The balloons of arrogance and hypocrisy are only further blown into, taking more wind out of feeble states to keep them begging for mercy.

Reality does not exist, either. There is nothing real about having to dissect a seemingly objective affair in subjective terms. An influential state does not have to answer to any power above it once the finger (or gun barrel) has been point. But take a much weaker state which is asking for practically nothing, except that of the same rights enjoyed by its neighbors, only to be denied on the ground of unproven suspicion. What, thus, is left to be considered as real about international laws and conventions?

No words or actions can change the reality in which a state chooses to live in. They are not what they say they are not, and we are what they say we are, which technically is what they are, too, except, we are labeled with an ironically undefined word.

-C-

Nur Kasih

2010-05-27T09:57:00.009-04:00

Barely two days back in Malaysia and my mum was already eagerly promoting the new supposedly exciting Malaysian drama called Nur Kasih, which according to her had all Malaysians glued to the television for those at home, and laptops if they’re overseas. To be honest, I was reluctant to watch it at first because I am not a Malay drama fan. But I do like Kabir Bhatia, the director. And I do try to show appreciation to talented Malaysians where it is deserved. Plus, it’s not like my husband and I have other things to do at home. So we did – we watched. My brother wanted me to do a review on the show, but instead of doing a typical review, I’d like to comment on particular things about the show.

In general, I do like the plot. It’s interesting. I guess I can’t complain much about the ending as a Malay drama won’t be a Malay drama if it’s not predictable. Basically Nur Kasih is about two brothers, both on either end of the spectrum. Because of the wish of a dying father, the lives of both brothers were met with obstacles one after another.

Now, firstly I’d like to comment on the fact that they put the ‘good brother’ in Cairo, and the other one in Sydney. It’s a simplistic way to tell the story, I know. Not a bad one, but too old fashioned. "Those who go to more western countries to further their studies have a higher tendency to fall off the right path." I may be a bit too emotional in writing this, but I’m ashamed and embarrassed for those who think so. In my opinion, when one goes to a country where one is a minority, it reinforces one’s identity thus further pushes one to stay on the right track. It is when one is surrounded by his or her people that are doing wrong that one feels ‘comfortable’ in acting the same way. For example, I do have friends in our many local universities, including those Islamic universities and colleges. But I’ve frequently heard more stories about them drinking, doing drugs, and having pre-marital sex – yes including students of those universities. It’s because when they see their peers doing it, they’ll feel like outsiders if they don’t. But in a place where no one knows your name, you are under less pressure except to live your own life.

Secondly, the idea of early marriage. I support the drama in its attempt to prove that one does not automatically fail if one marries early, especially with little financial support. It is do-able with the right attitude. Maybe I was a bit frustrated when Nur, the title name, felt like she had to give up her dreams when she got married. She does not need to feel so if she really has the gut to face both responsibilities head-on. I hope the ‘right persons’ are reading what I’m about to write: being married while studying is difficult. Instead of just having to focus on getting good grades, one needs to focus on one’s spouse too. Furthermore, as Muslims it’s not just about cooking and cleaning, it’s much more. It’s about being partners. It’s about being leaders. It’s about being forgiving. It’s not easy living with another person for the first time. It’s not. It takes a lot of work and compromises. When they say one needs to be ready, it’s not financially, it’s mentally. That’s why one needs to be married with someone one loves. Someone you truly love. Someone who can change the way you view life. Someone who can make you a better person. It’s not about wiping stain off your spouse’s cheeks, it’s about holding the other’s hand firmer even after countless screams and tears. I believe that is the main idea behind Nur Kasih. Don’t underestimate the power of a marriage IF it is entered whole-heartedly.

Finally, Nur Kasih is special in its idea of change. People can change. No human is born evil, nor is there anyone born perfect. I do believe that the thing that molds a person into himself, more than anything else, is his experience whilst growing up. That is why the roles played by parents are very important. This takes us back to the idea of responsibility in a marriage. Please, don’t have kids if you’re not ready to answer to Allah if you die tomorrow. They are your biggest responsibility. That does not mean you could do anything to them; you need to respect and see them as persons, as equals. Talk to them and don’t easily reach for the cane as it is the last resort according to our Prophet (pbuh). They may be hard to understand. They may be different from you. But they’re yours. Allah is fair. Mischievous children are not bad children, just misunderstood. But of course, one should not expect to have angelic sons or daughters if one does not practice what’s asked of them too. Trust in God, and He’ll trust you.

So that’s my two cents’ worth on Nur Kasih. If you love a good story, beautiful cinematography, and is looking for food for the soul, I highly recommend Nur Kasih.

-C-

p/s: Rassyid and I did not watch the current repeats on TV3, my parents actually bought the collector's DVD box.

Tech

2010-05-15T10:32:00.006-04:00

I am really not a Techie. I really am not. Unless using Photoshop to cover up my pimples is considered tech-savvy, then perhaps I am. However, I believe that title belongs more appropriately to my brother. Only he can have a thorough conversation concerning new software and whatnots with my father. Me? Nah. I just need a few must-haves, such as my Vaio and Alpha, and I'm ready to go. When I was in high school and my friends were all showing off their new MP3 players, me being me, always wanting to appear different and unique, chose not to own an MP3 player but bought a new portable CD player instead - at a time when downloading illegally seemed to be part of the school system's syllabus. I was never the type to download from the Internet. I guess I stopped after that one good scolding I got from my dad because he thought my PC broke down because of the vigorous downloading. I immediately swore myself off downloading afterwards...until I got married. It still gives me a kick when someone I knew back then said, "YOU're downloading movies???"

Apart from that, I hated ipods. Not because I hate the gadget per se, but I consciously choose to hate it because everyone has to have it. I just don't like these "cultural revolution" things. My husband, knowing his wife, bought for me ZUNE instead. Oh, how I love him so so so much! Nobody I know of has a Zune and according to all the reviews I read, Zune is apparently way better than a 32GB Ipod Touch. But the other thing is, I'm not the kind of person to have my ears stuck with earphones all day long because I don't want to miss out on the small moments that make life beautiful. So instead of songs, I put in episodes after episodes of Friends for me to watch when I'm traveling or before going to sleep (as a substitute to my comic books left at home). I didn't talk of my Zune before because I wanted to show it to my brother first.

Finally, the Blackberry. The reason I picked that up? Because it's not an Iphone, simple. When I saw Pia in Madison she asked me, "Why didn't you just buy an Iphone?" I remember just smiling. It's cute. She's really cute.

Last Wednesday, my dad bought me another "electrical" item. It's a keyboard. I know, it sounds ridiculous because I just took four months worth of piano class, but if I don't have at least a small keyboard, how do I keep what I've learned from not rusting? It's a Yamaha (typically) and I didn't do much with it except keeping it at Grand Piano mode and play whatever was in our Piano lesson book. And after trying Drums and Piano, I have decided that I am, and always will be, a guitar chick at heart. Drums were cool, and Piano is useful, but none suits me better than my little Ibanez from 11 years ago. As much as I am thankful that my dad was willing to pay half of the price of that keyboard, I am more thankful for the trick he used to make me buy a guitar back when I was 10.

Can't believe these things that I thought do not define me actually helped me learn more about myself. That's life.

-C-

A Walk Alone

2010-05-03T14:14:00.000-04:00

The smell of freshly cut grass. Green, with yellow in between. Spring has finally sprung. Heat through leaves, wind through leaves. The sound of Spring. Porch with people rocking in chairs. One said Hi and Peace be Upon Me. Lovely day, lovely weather. Didn't notice it whilst escaping Winter. Not just the colors but also the feel. Of Spring rushing through my fingers. Drips of water on watered greens. Splashes of them on a smiling face. How else to explain this wonder. Of changing seasons, ever-changing times.

-C-

Mother's Day 2010

2010-05-02T17:09:00.004-04:00

In one week we’ll be celebrating Mother’s Day. I haven’t made a big deal out of the day since I was about fourteen, probably. It was all caused by that crap people kept on telling at me about, “Oh, as Muslims we should not celebrate our mothers for just one day, but it should be a year-long event!” Well, I know that, but does it make me a sinner to love my momma extra special for another day besides on her birthday? Celebrating Mother's Day has never been about guilt of loving her less for the rest of the year, but I was young so I fell for that, and stopped buying my mum presents on this day after years of dragging my brother to our neighborhood Giant to buy something as simple as a mirror, or a make-up box (this was when my allowance was RM1 a day). But then I stopped.

But for this coming weekend, in honor of my mother, I’ve decided to give her something extra special. I’ve now come to a place where I can say I know myself and my momma better. I know now, without doubt, that I’m an ‘arguer’. Well, actually, my parents already knew that about me way before I joined the school’s debate team. I got that from my daddy. But my mum, my ibu, she’s not like us. She’s the opposite. She’s the sweetest human being who loves her kids so much that she’d lie to us so as to not hurt our feelings. Better yet, sometimes she doesn’t need to lie because somehow - magically - she knows exactly what to say to make things all better again. Since she’s such a loving person, she would always tell me, “Let others talk, they will never know the real you.” My mum would never waste her time arguing with others, even if they’re wrong. But me, I would.

I’ve heard a lot of people say, “Today’s working mothers are not real mothers! Real mothers stay at home to cook and clean for their kids!” It’s kind of like a stigma for women to work, even though what these people don’t realize is, MOST women - wives and mothers - do work these days, and I’ve seen equally, if not more beautiful children coming from these families. My mum works…so what? These people who say mothers should not work because extra money is not that important, they are actually lying to themselves. Money is one of the main reasons families tear apart. Having extra is never wrong. Besides that, I believe that working women are more in touch with themselves thus in return, they are better at giving without feeling empty inside. This further leads to sincerity and maturity from the mums and also the kids.

My mum works, so does that mean she loves me and my brother less? No. Does that mean she doesn’t teach us valuable life lessons? No. As much as I would like to maintain a strong case, I won’t lie and say I haven’t wished more than once for them to have more time to spend with us. But like my mum always says, “It’s not the number of kids that counts, it is their quality.” Hence I’m going to repeat what she’s taught me and say, “It’s not the number of hours that count, it’s how those hours were spent.” And the hours that we did spend together, they were definitely priceless, making it bittersweet knowing life will never be the same now with new additions into our family.

When we were younger, and our parents were stronger, they would take us cycling, swimming, and playing badminton, after or before a round of arcade-game playing. My mum and dad taught me how to live healthily (even if now I’m the reason they have to stash their junkfood away from sight). As a matter of fact, them taking us cycling when I was six, with me having to cross what-had-seemed-back-then as heavy traffic, was where I got my sense of 'trust' in the world. If I were afraid to even cross the road, how will I ever be able to do anything? After days of work and school, my parents try their best to spend the weekends with us, usually shopping. This was of course when I used to say to my mum, “I’ll never understand why you need to have these much clothes and shoes!” But it was because of those hours rummaging through clothes that I learned from her how to manage my money. She was the one who taught me cash is always better, even when my friends would raise an eyebrow when I refused to use the credit card I had since I was seventeen. My mum was also the one who taught me how to cook our famous chocolate cake, and nobody can argue that those hours spent baking was not real quality bonding time between mother and daughter. Most importantly, she was the one who taught me the value of education, both secular and spiritual. When I was eight, she dragged me to an MPH and told me to ‘choose a book, any book, as long as it’s in English'. Man, if it wasn’t for her, who knows where I’ll be now? My mother taught me how to pray, how to be a good girl, and how to live life right. She’s always gentle, always friendly to others, and she's always smiling. It doesn’t surprise me to see how much others adore her, not because she’s their friend or sister, but because of who she is inside.

It’d be a great blessing to grow up and be a tenth of who she is now. I love you ibu, I do.

-C-

Values

2010-04-18T19:55:00.010-04:00

I am so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, sooo mad right now!

Two days ago it was announced that Belgium will be the first European country to ban the burqa, a garment that covered women from head to toe except for the eyes. And they're doing it in the name of "European values". If they simply had say they're banning the burqa in the name of public safety, I would totally understand and support them because it is important to show your face in public to maintain peace and order in an increasing hostile world. But values? I know that Europeans cherish three things: food, secularism, and their nude beach. But is that really the values that they want to portray to the world? What values, actually? The value of showing one's calves? I thought the best values any nation, parents, and teachers should teach the younger generations are integrity, honesty, and respect. How then does wearing the burqa hinder those values? I can go into a whole post on how wearing modestly raises the value of a woman, but these people will not even consider listening even if we put an amplifier next to their ears. They refuse to learn. The thing that I find funny is, these countries have no basis for their claims. Britain, a highly successful nation, even has an official headscarf for their police force. Police, a figure of authority! And their tube was bombed! Because unlike crazy-Sarkozy, the Brits have common sense in that to maintain public safety, you have to integrate everyone in the society. Not further discriminate them! Okay let's make this simpler. Think back of all the violent cases reported in schools and universities. Now think of the destructive ones, those who killed their fellow classmates before committing suicide. In their suicide notes, don't they usually mention something about being bullied that led them to destructive behavior?

Now let's talk about the burqa. The burqa is not an Islamic garment. Women in Islam were only asked to cover themselves from the head to the toes, with the exception of the face and the palms. The Burqa was actually an Arabic garment. 1400 years ago, when there was no air-conditioner, cars, and sunglasses, the Arabs had to protect their eyes from sandstorm when they were traveling. Men wore them, Christian and Jewish Arabs wore them. It's just that some of my Muslims sisters choose to take what's asked of them further and protect their beauty from the lusting gaze of others except for their eyes. Now I want to straighten another thing out. In Islam, one of the many beautiful purposes we are asked to cover up is because Islam stresses equality. No one should feel proud and brag of one's beauty. It should not matter if you have blond hair, if I have red hair, and if she has black hair; we cover them so that our crown won't make us unconsciously proud. BUT if a Muslim sister wears the burqa for the opposite reason - because she wants to appear different and 'more pious' than the rest - she is condemned. The burqa then defeats its own purpose, and she should instead go back to the basic of head scarf, long sleeve, long pants, covered shoes.

The other interesting fact about burqa in Belgium: only 500 people wear the burqa. That's right. Out of 10 million people, 500 out of them wear the Burqa. And somehow, ridiculously, they decide to ban it. Is it worthwhile?

To my fellow Muslims, I have this message: If the actions of 500 out of 10 million citizens could cause such a commotion, this is enough proof that we are a force in this world. If we gather our might and our brains, we could actually do something in this world because fact is, they're listening. One person at a time.

-C-

p/s: Sorry if my posts have been conquered by my 'confused-what-to-do-with-a-PS-degree' persona. I guess since its near finals, I've been reading and writing way too much political stuff.

Freedom?

2010-04-12T21:34:00.002-04:00

...Freedom in democracy only serves to enslave people to one another - people who should in reality be slaves to Allah only; it causes people to be under the control of others who may be lower in status than themselves; those who are in control are the ones who set their rules and forbid and allow them whatever they wish – all that those who are under such control can do is to submit and obey. What type of freedom is this which entails enslavement to other humans?

In Islam, freedom frees man from enslavement to other humans to the comprehensive enslavement to Allah Alone. One might argue that both are forms of enslavement, so what is the difference?

- Allah is the Creator; He provides for man, facilitated the universe for him and guided him to the right path; therefore, Allah alone has the right to be worshiped and man should be grateful to Him and obey His commandments. Worshiping the Creator gives the slave might, honor and dignity, while on the other hand, being enslaved by other humans who are weak and incapable is a form of oppression and punishment.

- Man was created with the natural disposition of being a slave, so if he is not a slave to Allah, then he will certainly become a slave to another human, and this is a false state of affairs, regardless of the form it takes and the status of the human who he is enslaved to.

- Worshiping Allah represents the ultimate freedom because it frees one from being enslaved to other false gods. In democracy, freedom places man under varied types of pressures and external strains that make him lose a great portion of his freedom of thinking and choice.

Examples of these pressures are the media; the pressure of fulfilling his lusts using different means to do so; the pressure of earning provisions, which is one of the greatest that people face; the pressure that politicians and religious leaders place upon people, and how some of these people fabricate and alter facts; the pressure of intoxicants and drugs, which are now widespread; and the latest pressure, which is the threat to anyone who refuses to give in to the instructions that have been set to deal with the phenomenon of 'terrorism,' which is a powerful means of placing great pressure upon people.

These types of pressure deprive man from a great deal of the freedom of choice, freedom of thinking and freedom of adopting opinions that he would have taken if these pressures did not exist. These pressures deprive man from his freedom, despite the claim of some who live under such a system to be free.

The contemporary tyrants do not need to exert much effort to accomplish what they wish from other nations; all they have to do is apply some of these pressures for a short period, and sure enough, other nations usually surrender to their requests. These pressures are referred in the Quran.

Allah Says (what means): “Those who were oppressed will say to those who were arrogant: 'Rather, [it was your] conspiracy of night and day when you were ordering us to disbelieve in Allah and attribute to Him equals.' But they will [all] confide regret when they see the punishment; and We will put shackles on the necks of those who disbelieved. Will they be recompensed except for what they used to do?” [Quran 34: 33] They plot continuously, day and night, in a way that prevents one from having an opportunity to pause and think correctly in order to be guided to a sound decision.

In Islam, man is freed from all external pressures and effects that may limit or even deprive him from his freedom of choice and decision. Islam frees man from all such pressures...

["IslamWeb - Freedom in Islam and in Democracy." إسلام ويب - سعادة تمتد. 10 July 2009. Web. 13 Apr. 2010. http://www.islamweb.net/ver2/archive/article.php?lang=E&id=143745.]

I have not forgotten my place in the universe.

-C-

Letter to Him

2010-04-11T12:30:00.006-04:00

In the name of Allah Most Beneficent Most Merciful

Dear God,

I am writing today in realization that I should have written this letter to You a very long time ago. I write to You today because I’m finally ready to let go. And I write today because I know You, of all, would best understand my pain and struggle for I have prayed for a better day since I learned to prostate in humility to You.

You being the Creator of all things perfect, You know that a person is judged based not on what he does but on his niat, his intention. One of my favorite hadiths growing up is about a prostitute who was walking home one night when she saw a sick dog by the road. She took off her shoes, poured water into it, and handed it to the dog. Based on this one compassionate deed, despite all the others, she was admitted into Heaven by You, Dear Lord. Thus I am praying today for you to forgive me, and also the others who contributed in making me the broken child that I was for their intention was never a bad one.

I’ve grown up feeling nothing in my heart but to please others. At the end of my journey as a teenager, I no longer have the capacity to feel guilt or care; I’ve worn out everything I had in me to please by the time I turned nine. Before then, nothing I did was good enough. I was criticized for everything. Even for the tiniest thing. I understand, Dear Lord for it was done to make me stronger. To make me smarter. But what is the use of being smart if the only reason I strive to do so is to prove myself. Even then, I’d eventually find out that what I did, my opinion, my reasoning, my thoughts, are never good enough for I was just a child.

I’m not writing today a hate letter. I don’t want those who made me who I am be punished. What I do want today is to break the cycle. When a person is hurt, he or she would more often than not cause the same hurt to the next person (isn’t that true, my fellow psychology majors?). And I did it. I hurt my husband. It is hard for me to say this – and I am not airing my dirty laundry – but I have to say it in order to make it real so that I could stop. I’ve been hurting my husband real bad. Nothing he does is good enough. There’s always room to improve. I know that’s not on its own a really bad thing to say, but for a person who was in his shoes couple of years ago, I should be more aware of the pain I was causing. Of the confusion I was causing. Sayang, I’m sorry. Dear God, please forgive me for being unforgivably insensitive.

Some say I am not good at accepting criticism gracefully. And I agree. How could I when for as long as I’ve lived, everything that I did was to disprove those critics. All I wanted was to disprove those critics. Lord, You know best when I said I’ve been telling lies to my husband. I told him those criticisms are meant to make him better. That is not possible when he is better than me. Oh God, I’m embarrassed to admit this but sometimes I feel like failing on purpose just to prove that all the negative vibes thrown my way are actually pulling me down the deepest end. But it is seldom that people see that because I am always pulling them up.

I want to break the cycle. That’s my only prayer today. I want to break the cycle. I don’t want to hurt my husband anymore. And when I have my own kids, I definitely don’t wish for them to experience what I did. Whenever I feel like criticizing them, I’ll think of this post and start with, “That’s great honey! You make me so proud as a mother! But you know this can still be worked on…”

Amin.

-C-

High School Stories

2010-04-10T21:14:00.005-04:00

In my free time, I like to look at the collection of “Photos of You” on Facebook, even though I’ve quite memorized every pose and every caption. Because I know, one of the things old acquaintances would do before deciding to add me, would be to check out my pictures. Thus, I want those pictures to not be deceiving of who I am, and was.
And if anyone ever went through all my pictures, clicking next after next of my Party-In-The-USA pictures, they would surely stop at pictures of me in a blue uniform and compare that to who I am today. That was me in school. That is the me I want to be every day. Yet I could not, because to be that Syaza, I need the right place, time, and most importantly, the right people with me.

Sometimes I think of those kids who go to school just to go to school and wonder what they think of those years now. Of course it’d be wrong of me to judge them because I bet if I asked them now, they’ll definitely have lists and lists of things they did in school that are memorable to them. Even the nerdiest of them all surely did something. Every school is a drama in the making, and no student is left out from the storyline. But even in those high school dramas we watch, there will always be those teacher’s pets that want to be on the good side of authority. Nothing wrong with that, of course! Except…it’s just five years, loosen up a bit!

Five years. That’s all we have as students in Malaysia to be in secondary school. Five years is sure not that long. Five years is just a blink in time. I’m glad I realized that early on. Well, not really. I was actually the boring kid that sat at the back of class the first two years of high school. But after I’ve lost a decade and a half to past memories, I purposely decided to make the next three years a time to remember.

My favorite act in school? Bringing a broken frame of a three-seater to class. I remember the day clearly in my mind. I was doing my thing – taking advantage of my power as a prefect and dragging my best friend around the school compound even after the bell had rang – when I found a rattan frame at the back of the ‘Kemahiran Hidup’ lab. I said to Shila we could use this in class. Oh she wasn’t up to it at first. I said listen, even if you don’t approve, you know I’ll just get the guys to help me. So finally she agreed and we laughed all the way as I called the guys to help me bring the frame from the back of school all the way to the other end of the third floor - to our class. When my mum came for the parent-teacher meeting, she was shocked to find my dad’s blanket at the back of my class. Well I have to take care of it, don’t I? Shila on the other hand, I remember, begged a teacher to give us one of the school’s HUGE plants for our class. It was massive! But then, the two of us always got what we wanted back then and thus, the back of our class – with the plant and the ‘couch’ – became one of the reasons we won ‘Best Class Decoration’ for months in a row. We did something different. As a class, we came together.

Besides that, I remember a cat giving birth in our teacher’s desk. Oh yes, a cat and her babies. As a class we agreed to keep them a secret…until a teacher found out and we had to throw them out. If there’s a cat in class, my name would be written in bold green above it. What else…oh, the list of name I wrote on the wall! I don’t even remember doing it, but with my unmistakable handwriting as proof in Adilah’s camera, what else can I say? I actually wrote down the name of all my classmates, based on the seating arrangement, on a wall, hidden from plain sight. Something that no prefect would be caught doing. That was of course a huge risk, but guess what, now after four years even our deputy head prefect laughed over it. Isn’t that amazing? Seriously, I bet if many more were a bit laidback back then – though the school may turn into a huge canvas – there would be less drama, and everyone would enjoy school more.

Syafiqa and I also once took the time to sit down with a group of juniors attempting to skip school, and talked to them while they smoked behind the surau. I know it sounds very irresponsible of us as prefects to let them smoke on school ground, but they would still do so when no one’s around. After we talked, and asked them why they wanted to skip, we actually convinced them to stay. I think we did the right thing by not passing their names to a teacher but instead to understand these kids. Troubled kids are troubled for a reason. Since then, every time they saw me they would smile and actually show some respect, compared to how they treated other prefects. Ain’t that something to think about?

My partner in crime, Iqa. This picture was taken when we 'crashed' our tuition class the year after SPM. When our History teacher realized who those two kids at the back were, he was so excited and introduced us to the class.

I understand why there are rules at school. The reasons are the same as why a country needs a set of law and why God has His own law that we must abide by on Earth. And teachers, they are just doing their jobs. But high school in Malaysia is just five years, and unless we continue on to STPM, that's all the years we have in making lasting memories with our friends. Just think about that.

-C-

Civil War on Rights

2010-04-04T13:54:00.001-04:00

Paradoxically, as more resources are put into the study of politics as a science, more wars – both conventional and unconventional – are waged upon the many entities in the international system. Ain’t it just funny how people refuse to listen to something they deem as "so simple"?

Fine, politics won't have that much input in the struggle to find the cure to cancer, or even be able to join the race to build more modern structures in other inhospitable regions, but it is just as important as the basis of state governance. So now I have two questions to ask: 1) why are there still a lot of political crisis in this world when countless research has been done and recorded in books and journals? 2) Why do people still raise an eyebrow when they found out there are students interested in studying politics, as if it is a waste of time to find the cure to the wound deeply embedded in a specific country?

The first question is the most interesting to me. Not unlike the science of chemistry, we do have our own sets of formulas and chemicals to be added to create a strong working state. But then, why aren’t there many listening? Yes political science is not part of pure science. It is made complicated by the presence of human beings in the compound of a state. Different individuals, different ethnic groups, different religious sects, different historical backgrounds, and different government composition. A solution in one country may not hold in another. Thus, I do believe that is where the role of a genius and charismatic leader comes in. It is true that in order to be a politician one does not need to hold a degree in the humanities or the social science; one simply needs to be a presence to be reckoned with during times of bad weather by listening to the advices from one’s team of advisers.

I was reading my textbook today and was flabbergasted by how simple and straightforward the answers to many questions are. A + B both cause C, and to eradicate C a government needs to tackle the root of A, which is Z, and for Z to come through X has to be present. Simple, agree?

For me, the beauty of studying political science is that there is definitely no wrong answer. There are better answers, but no bad ones. Unless you’re God, nobody knows exactly the best way to govern a group of people, and yet a leader should not stop trying his best. And in this attempt of figuring out the best mode of action, it should not depend on a person’s gut feeling, but that of many. Please don’t read that as me saying the voice of the people in a democracy should always be the main indicator of a leader’s next move on the chessboard. I, myself, still don’t buy that democracy is the best form of government, but it is not wrong to immitate those who are successful, yes?

Basically, I don’t know why I wrote this post. I guess I’m just frustrated. Life is so simple, why complicate matters?

Oh I know why, because greed for wealth and power is part of politics and that makes it worse, indefinitely.

-C-

My Inspiration

2010-03-26T16:52:00.004-04:00

Today I stumbled upon Queen Rania of Jordan's Youtube channel. I've already forgotten how I came to arrive at her channel, but that's not the important issue. The important issues are the debates and discussions that she uploaded. If some of you have already seen her videos, yes, I am one year too late. Again, that's beside the point. The point is, I fell in love today. I fell in love in her attempts and desire to change the world, "One video at a time." I was inspired at how dedicated she is in trying to change people's perspectives on Islam. Although there are some people that I know of that are against a good, solid debate, as the Royal Highness herself said, "Debate is part of the dialogue."

It is no accident that on the day I discovered Queen Rania's channel, I reached a page in the non-fictional novel, Three Cups of Tea, where Syed Abbas, the most important Shia cleric in Pakistan, gave an emotional speech to an audience that included Greg Mortenson - the American who has been building schools for the less fortunate in Pakistan's high region since the 90s - two days after 9/11:

"We share in the sorrow as people weep and suffer in America today...as we inaugurate this school. Those who have committed this evil act against the innocent, the women and children, to create thousands of widows and orphans do not do so in the name of Islam. By the grace of Allah Almighty, may justice be served upon them.

"For this tragedy, I humbly ask Mr. George and Dr. Greg Sahib for their forgiveness. All of you, my brethren: Protect and embrace these two American brothers in our midst. Let no harm come to them. Share all you have to make the mission successful.

"These two Christian men have come halfway across the world to show our Muslim children the light of education...Why have we not be able to bring education to our children on our own? Fathers and parents, I implore you to dedicate your full effort and commitment to see that all your children are educated. Otherwise, they will merely graze like sheep in the field, at the mercy of nature and the world changing so terrifyingly around us.

"I request America to look into our hearts...and see that the great majority of us are not terrorists, but good and simple people. Our land is stricken with poverty because we are without education. But today, another candle of knowledge has been lit. In the name of Allah Almighty, may it light our way out of darkness we find ourselves in." [Mortenson, G. and Relin, D. O. Three Cups of Tea. Page 257.]

What else can I comment except that that speech speaks for itself?

Although discrimination has been on the rise since 9/11, being the optimist that I am, I see it only as the beginning of good things to come. A lot - A LOT - more people are interested in Islam. 9/11 actually opened their eyes to this second largest religion in the world. I am not saying that 9/11 was right to happen, but the tragedy is there for us to learn from. Since the day I decided to expand my knowledge in the realm of Politics three years ago, questions continue to linger in my mind especially on what I'm going to do with a BA in Political Science. And no, I've yet to get an answer. I am not interested in getting my hands dirty with the Politics of Malaysia, and I don't have the persona of a teacher. So here I am, in the lost regarding my future career. But the one thing I am truly sure of is my dedication to my faith. Maybe that will be the path I'm going to pursue?

The question now is, who am I? I am not a perfect Muslim and it might be problematic if others start listening to me. But then again, who is a perfect Muslim? Not to mention the fact that I am just one in an ocean of 1.6 billion others; what impact could I make with such a small voice? But while we are on the topic of ocean, I'd like to quote Mother Teresa: "We ourselves feel that what we are doing is just a drop in the ocean. But the ocean would be less because of that missing drop."

Thus, I am very excited for tomorrow. Tomorrow I will be involved in a workshop called Women In Islam. It will be an opportunity for Pitt students to come and learn more about Islam from us Muslims that are living in America. It is my first time, so I'm hoping to be part of the success this year.

"Say not I have found the truth, but rather I have found a truth." - Khalil Gibran, the third most widely read poet behind Shakespeare and Lao-Tzu.

-C-

Finally!

2010-03-14T22:32:00.000-04:00

I'm happy, I'm happy, I'm happy as a puppy!

My worst regret ever was attempting to diet in INTI, right? And then I could not eat as much as I used to because my tummy mysteriously shrunk, right?

Well, after I got married and came to the States, I eat just as much as my husband - and he eats A LOT. I don't think about rules of calories and portions and whatnots anymore. I eat what I want, and not letting my weight take center stage in my head. Moreover, after being here for seven months now, I can proudly say, "Give my anything in the American portion and I can finish it all in one sitting!" It's true! Oh, the worry every time I see a huge empty plate in front of me. I'm supposed to take care of myself for this year's reception, right?

Anyway, yesterday at my seniors' place, I took the risk of tuning up my self-loath radar by getting on the scale.

And guess what...

I actually lost FIVE kg's since coming here!!!

I didn't believe it when everyone from Sofiya to Asma' told me I lost weight. How could that be when I eat more?! I guess that's the beauty of my body. When I eat more, I lose more.

Seriously, I will NEVER EVER GO ON ANY STUPID DIET ANYMORE!!!

:)

-C-

PCD

2010-03-07T21:18:00.001-05:00

I bet a lot of people do not know this, but there is actually a widespread syndrome called Post Concert Depression.

How did I know this?

After the 2003 Linkin Park concert in KL, I remember being horrificly depressed. I'm not making this up. The day after the concert, I remember sitting by the back door of my classroom whenever there was free time. I simply refused to join in the chirpy chatters of my friends. When I went back home, I decided to check this out online to find out if my confusion was real, and apparently it is! Other people around the world experience the same feelings too after an amazing concert!

Since Linkin Park, no other act come as close to being as good - not Black Eyed Peas, Whitney Houston, the BSB, or Jason Mraz. Until last night.

Although Muse was fantastically hot, one of the conditions for the syndrome is for the person to look forward to the concert. And I didn't. But my husband was. So now, he is experiencing PCD for the first time. I wish I could help him, but there's really no cure except time.

However, in my opinion, Rassyid should be proud of himself because it was him that brought Muse new respect and awe from the people of Malaysia :)

-C-

Ps: wrote this on the bus, so...

Khan

2010-03-04T12:50:00.008-05:00

After watching My Name Is Khan, I was inspired not to write, but to simply post this essay that helped me get an A in composition. To my dad, this is not the essay, as can be figured out from the absence of your work of art.

To some this may surprised you, but to those who really know me, they won't be too shocked to find out that I actually cried the whole time I was in the movie theater. I'm that sensitive. But it all started with the first few scenes of Rizvan Khan (SRK) being called away by airport security. I was reminded of when I first arrived here. I don't think I told my parents this, but I was put into a tiny little cubicle at Dulles. We were passing through security and an officer asked me if I'm willing to pull off my scarf. Of course I said, "NO." So I was put into this small cubicle to wait for a female officer to 'pat' my head. Whatever. My concern then was just for the whole thing to be quick cause our flight was about to take off (Seriously, we had to run after that and not surprisingly, we were the last to board. At least we did not miss our plane as did Rizvan). But what I remember till today was the other lady that was stuck in that cubicle with me. She's an old Arab lady whom I think could barely speak English. She was so scared, and kept on repeating the Lord's name. I think she was telling me to recite an Ayat but I could not make out which Ayat specifically so I just nodded. Plus, this cubicle was so small, we can barely move with both of us in it. She was so scared! I know I had nothing to hide, but this lady, whom I guess had just arrived to see her family or something in the States looked like she was about to cry. That kind of discrimination made me cry during the entire film. Alhamdulillah it had been much better since that one and only incident. More Americans are also interested in learning about the Islamic faith. But there's no denying that discrimination still lingers in the air. I remember my dad told me on the day of 9/11 that my dream of going to the States will unfortunately not come true. Of course he was wrong, but to say it is easy now is an ignorant mistake to make.

Enjoy this honest-from-the-heart essay. By the way, the pictures here were also included in the essay I turned in.

-C-

Liberation in a Modern World

Oppressed and subjugated, that is absurd
Uneducated, it’s a rumor of us
Misunderstood, that’s what we really are
the veil keeps me safe from wandering eye-s.
I am not dominated, simply liberated
I ask to be seen not for my body but for my head
the one that is constantly covered in a scarf
those who call me backward, they just make me laugh.

A newborn that just came into the world is naked. Not a single strand of clothing comes out together with her from the mother’s womb. The pink baby cries and the motherly instinct to do – which ironically is the nurse’s job – is to wrap the baby in a clean white cloth to keep her safe and warm. The baby calms down and starts to fall asleep with the mother’s heartbeat as her lullaby. Life for her is complete for the moment.

My life however is far from complete. With more to do and definitely more to achieve than a simple baby’s need, do not expect me to easily be contented with current situations. I strive to be the best in everything that I do. Both worldly and spiritual. Perfection may be impossible but in the words of my dear mother, “If you aim for the stars, the least you’ll get is the moon.” I was a baby once too but no longer am now. If I stood stark naked in the road not a single person would coo at me the way that they do at babies. Instead, they would stare oddly at this stranger. Funny enough, the same goes if I am covered from head to toe. It is true that not every person judge me this certain way. Many today understand my situation. Wait…situation? That sounds wrong. That word sounds as if I am forced to be the way I am, which I am not. This is a choice and has always been so. The way that I dress is a personal preference. Yes, now that sounds better. I prefer to be this way.

“And asked Abraham's servant, ‘Who is that man walking in the field toward us?’ ‘That is my master,’ the servant replied. So she took her veil and covered herself.” (Genesis 24:64)

Not all of her acquaintances view life the same way that she does. Therefore friends and family – mostly friends – have always applauded her for not preaching. Yet she feels something is not right. Something is missing; her heart is torn. She feels selfish. She wears the veil, or hijab, because she knows how good it feels like to not be doomed to follow every single fashion off the catwalks of New York from miniskirts to see-through shirts. Nevertheless, she keeps the feeling all to herself. Although guilty of such offence of the autumn boot, that was it for her. If only others could understand the way she feels. It is not so that they would imitate the way she dresses but so that they would just understand her. That is why she chooses not to preach. She does not believe in coercion. She believes in acceptance. Why ask someone to do something they refuse just to hear them complain about it later? It is not worthwhile. Especially if the complaints attack not just the identity of a person, but also the belief of million others around the world.

In today’s society where her religion is such a hot topic, she dares not say more than necessary. Lucky for her that she is currently in a country that supports personal liberty: everyone has a right. However, she does not want her choice of clothes to be called an expression, as many have thought it is. This is not a matter of freedom of expression. At the same time it is also not to be seen as a lack of expression; it is neutral. She does not want strangers to group her with such and such people simply based on the way she dresses but obviously by wearing the veil she is saying that she is proud to be a Muslim. Her hope is that someday others would stop scrutinizing and start accepting. Accept her for her. Not letting how she looks and dresses affect their opinion on her. That is irrelevant. As long as she does not smell, there is no need to back off.

But there are two sides to this story, unfortunately. One side is of her relationship with others of another beliefs and the other is of her relationship with persons who confess to have the same belief as she does. Interestingly, those who are supposed to belong to the same faith as her criticize the tradition of veiling, which she holds dearly, more harshly than the rest. “Where did they go wrong?” she often asks herself. ‘They’ means the community of her religion. ‘Go wrong’ refers to the absence of respect among them. It is entirely fine if they do not see eye to eye but to ban the headscarf in universities? That is unnecessary. The reason being in the name of modernization is not good enough. What about the United States of America? Isn’t it modern? American universities allow her and her friends who dress modestly to go to classes and receive the education they eagerly seek. What is the explanation to that? If those countries really want to emulate the West, then the “land of the free and home of the brave” is certainly the best example.

Admittedly, I am a bit biased. But then again, who is not? One’s choice of friends and clothes and college major is already a show of bias over one and not the other. Thus, as much as I try to be fair, there is a constant voice inside my head that cannot see the true flip side of uncovering the head for a woman. If I can, there is no need for me to go ‘out of my way’ in an already alien place to appear more different in addition to everything else – skin color and accent. Why call for more attention to myself? However, it is acknowledged that there are problems in today’s world that could cause a Muslim woman, or Muslimah, to be better off letting her hair down. Firstly, with terrorism on the rise, there is a generalization among those who are not familiar with Islam that all Muslims are directly or indirectly terrorists. By wearing the hijab, a woman faces the possibility of threats and would, as a consequence, live in constant fear. The smart move then is to conform to society in the name of safety. To add insult to injury – literally – fanatic feminist movements might one day extremely oppose this tradition and try to make legislations against women being veiled. This could take away Muslims’ legal freedom to cover up as what is currently happening in certain Middle Eastern and European countries. Again, to get that perfect balance it appears that taking the veil off is the right path in today’s modern world rather than facing the risk of defying those feminists.

Feminism as a movement is not a new order. It has been around for decades and one famous account of feminism in women’s history is the bra-burning incident during the 1968 Miss America beauty pageant. Although many have claimed that story as false, the idea behind it stays the same. Yes, they do not actually burn their brassieres but instead throw them, together with nylon stockings, girdles and whatnots, into a “freedom trash can”. They wanted to make a statement and more importantly for that statement to last. In my opinion, they accomplished only one of their objectives: to make a lasting statement. And the most famous one is that coming from an Illinois legislator from the 1970s calling them “braless, brainless broads.” The point that I am trying to make is that nobody really gets what they were fighting against. In fact, they were ridiculed by the masses for such juvenile act. These feminists do not understand the true meaning of women’s rights - or equal rights for that matter. They wanted women to have all the same rights that a man has and an equal opportunity to rise in a male-dominated world. That is a praise-worthy cause. But how do they suggest we achieve that when our nature calls for us to be the nurturing women, wife, and mother, on top of all the other responsibilities of a man? I could easily go into another debate over this but will not. Not today, not in this paper. Women are not men and vice versa. I believe the saying goes, “If something looks like a duck, walks like a duck and sounds like a duck, then it is definitely a duck.” Unlike those of the feminists’, the statement made by veiled Muslim women is clear in that they want to be respected simply as the other gender – not as the weaker one. The only thing though that I could relate to those bra-burners is their courage to go against societal norm, which I do every single day in my life.

The aim that modern women need to have in their lives is not one of equal rights, but that of women’s rights. In other words, the right to be a woman - proudly. Women have a wonderful feat that not one man can experience his entire lifetime: the ability to give birth. There is no need in wanting to be equal to a man when nature proves that men and women are “equally different”. In my personal opinion, wearing the headscarf promotes dignity, self-worth and respect; something that no bra-throwing activity could offer. Our expectation of men thus changes for them to treat women as more than an equal but also as a lady. However, it is needed to be stressed here that those are only my opinions and of a limited few.

If only those in high-ranking positions, such as those in politics, would entertain the idea of continuously wearing modestly, it would bring a halt to the world of politics as being a beauty competition (example: the 2008 presidential campaign involving Sarah Palin) to being a real competition of intellectual abilities. Subsequently, their call for women’s rights would truly be respected for its substance. As a female still growing into my own self, I desperately need a role model besides those found in history and religious text books. Hence, I am glad that I found one recently in Dalia Mogahed – President Obama’s veiled Muslim adviser currently part of the White House team. Why is she an inspiration to me? Because I am a political science major. Suddenly there is this living proof that anything is possible if one just believes.

“And every woman who prays or prophesies with her head uncovered dishonors her head – it is just as though her head were shaved.” (1 Corinthians 11:5)

I have a lot of friends back home, a wide variety of them in fact. Malaysia, like most colonized nations, retains its after-effect of being multi-racial for it has three major races, four major religions, and certainly many other distinguishable aspects among the residents. Some of my closest friends are Christian-Chinese, some are atheists, and most are Muslim-Malays. This emphasize on religion may sound weird to Americans since there is the famous separation of church and state in the country. But where I came from, a person’s religion is important as it is clearly stated in his or her national identity card. Not just that but the country’s “National Principles” also make us pledge our belief first and foremost in God before the King, the country, the constitution, and the rule of law. In other words, we respect each other’s belief because it is so much entrenched in us. The catch is that this respect exists only among different believers. Among Muslims themselves, the pressure is on. Certain times one or two would try to ‘prove me wrong’ by pointing out that even though they do not comply with Islamic teachings, they are still considered by most as successful in life. I agree. But the thing that they seem unable to grasp is that everyone is different. Every person has a different goal in life and no two persons see everything entirely the same way. I never once forced my friends to wear modestly yet there are those who are calling me to show off my skin even if they know I am not comfortable with that. Why do these people think there is only one way to survive in today’s supposed modern world?

I have to admit that it is especially hard when you see your fellow girlfriends wear cute baby tees with short – REAL SHORT – skirts. As a girl, especially one that is part of a group, of course I do not want to feel left out in appearing cute. So how do I handle this stressful situation? In countless ways over the years, I have to admit. Embarrassingly, in spite of my plea for others to stop judging me, I did the same thing years ago to fellow schoolmates. When I was much younger I would choose my friends based on the criterion of their clothing. If she covers up then she is my friend, if she does not then we have to go our separate ways. But later on I learned that what I was doing was not right. Who am I to judge a person simply based on the way she dresses? It is certainly not the only measure to a person. Adding to that, I got a nice long lecture from my parents. I remember my dad said, “I don’t care if you befriend a person who takes drugs. As long as you know what’s right and what’s wrong, I trust you.” I bring that with me everywhere I go nowadays.

Slowly, I started to open up. I accepted not just those who do not wear the headscarf, but also those sexy ones. My dad was right. My sexy girlfriends are both respectful and absolutely fun to be around with.

But during those years of searching for friends from different backgrounds, I stumbled upon one who is of the opposite kind. She comes from a family that does not observe the headscarf religiously. Her mother may wear a flimsy cloth around her head but with her neck showing, nonetheless. And then she met me when we were in secondary school. “I’ve always wanted to wear the headscarf but no one else is wearing it!” confided her in me. It is testament to the amount of pressure we face even in a Muslim-majority country. Therefore she was so excited to finally meet someone who does have the same desire. At first her family was not supportive of her change but she fought off all the back talks and weird looks by wearing the hijab proudly. How so? By pairing a purple headscarf with a funky purple t-shirt from Forever 21 and a pair of jeans from Guess. She knows how to dress up and she does it well. For some reason I feel happy not just for her, but also with myself. I did not force her to change but instead I played a significant role in boosting her self-confidence to be comfortable in her own skin. Nothing can beat that.

"O Prophet, tell your wives and daughters and the believing women that they should cast their outer garments over their bodies (when abroad) so that they should be known and not molested" (Quran 33:59)

My mum did not cover her head when she was my age. Both my paternal and maternal grandmothers did not cover their heads when they were my age. But I do. It has nothing to do with force or subjugation. It is a personal conviction. I choose this way of life not because of you, them, him or her. I choose to wear the veil for two people: myself and He, my Lord. It has nothing to do with my political stance or rebellious nature. It is simpler than anyone could ever imagine. The veil neither restricts my movements nor my dreams; it no more than liberates me to act accordingly. Though others may say that even without it they could still do the same, this is not about them, remember, this is about me.

Syaza Farhana Mohamad Shukri
Seminar in Composition, 2009

Bibliography:

Greenfieldboyce, Nell. "Pageant Protest Sparked Bra-Burning Myth : NPR." NPR : National Public Radio : News & Analysis, World, US, Music & Arts : NPR. Web. 25 Oct. 2009. .

Lewis, Jone J. "Bra Burning Feminists of the Sixties - NOT." Women's History - Comprehensive Women's History Research Guide. 25 Oct. 2009 .

10 days past 21

2010-02-27T15:24:00.001-05:00

Yesterday was interesting. Tiring, sure.

Woke up early, didn't sleep in the afternoon - imagine that and you'll have a pretty clear picture of what's going on in my head.

Had to wake up early to catch those peeps in Nilai. Yup, they've been having a lot of activities since I've been gone :( Oh wells, what a girl to do? Gotta enjoy my own time here, I guess :) Even though it's...weird, me missing all the BBQs, weddings, and vacays to Bagan Lalang, can't stop no one. So anyway, woke up at 6, caught Kak Yong on her BB, continued on the big screen, and stayed till 8.30am, Pitt time, to go to school.

The snow was crazy. Period. Hoping for school to close, but not every little girl's dream come true, does it?

Went for last minute shopping at the Giant, and went back to find a sweet surprise in our mail.

As mentioned, did not have time to rest, had to do what a hostess should do - especially one who is hosting a 'makan-makan' for the first time as a wife. By 3, arms up, feet in the kitchen, cooking - for the first time - nasi tomato (or shall I call it a mere attempt?). Not bad I got to say :D Of course had plenty of splendid assistance from beautiful husband of mine :) Everything did come out as planned, just had to wait for comments from the guests!

Good food, good movies, and amazing company. So what if I didn't sleep for a day? ;)

-C-

Just a me-booster

2010-02-23T12:12:00.000-05:00

Behavior: Napping Can Prime the Brain for Learning

By RONI CARYN RABIN

Published: February 22, 2010

It turns out that toddlers are not the only ones who do better after an afternoon nap. New research has found that young adults who slept for 90 minutes after lunch raised their learning power, their memory apparently primed to absorb new facts.

Other studies have indicated that sleep helps consolidate memories after cramming, but the new study suggests that sleep can actually restore the ability to learn.

The findings, which have not yet been published, were presented Sunday at the annual meeting of the American Association for the Advancement of Science in San Diego.

“You need to sleep before learning, to prepare your brain, like a dry sponge, to absorb new information,” said the lead investigator, Matthew P. Walker, an assistant professor of psychology and neuroscience at the University of California, Berkeley.

The study recruited 39 healthy young adults and divided them into two groups. All 39 were asked to learn 100 names and faces at noon, and then to learn a different set of names and faces at 6 p.m. But 20 of the volunteers who slept for 90 minutes between the two learning sessions improved their scores by 10 percent on average after sleeping; the scores of those who didn’t nap actually dropped by 10 percent.

-C-

p/s: Well, well... ;)

Something I found today :)

2010-02-19T13:15:00.006-05:00

Dating Tips: 5 Things You Don't Need to Have in Common

Here are personality differences you should try to overlook. C'mon. Be the bigger person.

By dating editor Melissa Noble for YourTango.com

If you were to take an in-depth look at some of the couples who've successfully weathered every relationship storm, you'd be shocked to learn how little they might (superficially) have in common.

Sure it's cute to spend weeknights quoting "The Simpsons" in unison or have deep literary James Joycean discussions while rooting for the same football team with matching BBQ-tinged fingers. But, honestly, many wonderful relationships are built on differences. It's how we vary the gene pool, after all. In fact, the forces of attraction are so sophisticated that one should always rely on their gut -- not clever packaging -- when deciding who stays and goes.

Below is a list of differences that, unlike basic manners, don't have to be deal-breakers.

#1. Music Tastes

If you're cut from a cloth where self-worth is directly tied to taste in music, then this one may be tough. You may wince when you find that your mate du jour has never heard of Aaron Copland. You may want to run away screaming when they lack much of an opinion about Morrissey (and haven't even heard of The Smiths), but we think this is foolish. Unlike innate kindness or empathy, music knowledge is something that can be taught. And shared. So go and create that mix tape already.

(My my, is this true or what. When I was younger, I used to tell myself I need to find someone who loves the same music as me. Not saying Rassyid doesn't, but then again, Britney for him? And I used to switch the TV when Muse was on. Guess which concert we're going to next month ;D It's fun!)

#2. Intellectual Tastes

Let's say you make a visit to bookstore and you're drawn to Nietzsche, but your lover is more of a trashy memoir/easy beach read person. So what? At least you're both, er, reading. OK, OK, we get it. You may see reading material, education level, and profession as a reflection of a person's intelligence -- but this isn't always the case, my friend. What you really need to look for is breadth of knowledge in the chosen area. You might be working on a graduate degree in anthropology from a fancy-pants university, but what do you know about laying bricks? The scene in "My Cousin Vinny" when Marisa Tomei unleashes her almost God-like knowledge of car tires and all but frees her man's clients comes to mind as a perfect example.

(Maybe not books, but we DEFINITELY have different tastes on MOVIES. Don't we quarrel more on movies, sayang? He loves those World War II, conspiracy theory, and HONG KONG movies. Me? I just wanna watch Reese Witherspoon makes fun of blondes! But it's nice when both are combined - such as our FIRST ever movie date - Rendition. Remember that, Smells?)

#3. Friend Tastes

Yes, birds of a feather flock together and you are who you hang with and blah blah blah. We've heard it. We've heard it all. But just because your boyfriend's college buddies are a poor (very poor) man's parody of "Wedding Crashers" and you don't connect with her BFF's discussions about "The Hills" (but is it real?!) doesn't mean this new flame is a no go. Now if you notice a trend that's a bit more, er, red flag-y -- say multiple friends in jails across the country -- then perhaps it's something to look into. Perhaps.

(Can't complain. Mine are his, and his are mine!)

#4. Spending/Saving Habits

This one's dicey. You should absolutely err on the side of caution when building a future with someone who, say, gambles away their paycheck. But research suggests that savers are attracted to spenders and vice versa. Professors at the Wharton School of Finance and Northwestern University say the spender/saver relationship is just another way in which opposites attract.

(Me/Him. Haha)

#5. Style Tastes

This one's simple: if you don't like what they're working with, make sweet suggestions. No matter where you are, there's a mall somewhere close by, an outfit looking for a new home, and a credit card just aching to be put to use. Sometimes it is that easy.

(Just a note to some friends *cough*Pia*cough*. How about this one? Lol.)

-C-

Another Again

2010-02-15T22:42:00.001-05:00

Happy Birthday to me!

For my annual birthday post, I decided to write on something that had molded me for the past 21 years to be as I am: family.

Yes, family. Weird isn’t it that I always think of my family when I’m away from them. But then, when you think about it, I do have my own family with me. I now have three families! One in Nilai, one in Kluang, and one in Pittsburgh. Maybe Rassyid and I have been treating Lailee way too much like a daughter than we’re supposed to; but then again, who will love her as much as we do if not us?

Today we took Lailee to the vet. Last Thursday she had a seizure. Yup, a seizure. It was scaaary. We were in the living room – all three of us – me watching a movie, Rassyid was online, and Lailee was sleeping next to him. Suddenly she rose, walked a few steps, and fell on her side. At first I didn’t make much of it because she is gedik and likes to fall on her back to get her belly rubbed. But this time, her hind left leg twisted in a way you don’t wish for other cats to experience. I wanted to help her up but she seemed paralyzed and unable to pull herself. She succeeded in walking a few steps towards us but then dropped again, and this time her whole body contracted. I could not explain what it felt like to feel helpless as I watched my ‘child’ in pain.

And then I understood, that’s what parents feel every second of every day for as long as they live. Worry, helplessness, knowing that not everything is under their control. They try (the same way Rassyid and I did in bringing Lailee to see the vet) but then, there’s nothing more they can do except praying for the best.

I’m not perfect. I was certainly not the best daughter to my parents. I know there were moments that I wish I could erase from memory, but can’t. I'm definitely no 'trouble-free' daughter. But I’m here because of them, and no one can make me think so differently. I don’t think I screamed to be let go before, but I definitely prayed to be understood more. My parents are just that – human parents. They made mistakes too. But I’m a firm believer that without mistakes, there won’t be change, and without change, everyone’s a slave to circumstances – and that’s not a pretty place to be in.

People say I’m lucky. Lucky that my parents are willing to give up so much, to do so much, for me. One thing they don’t know is, I’m not a fan of luck. We make our own ‘luck’. When they say I’m lucky that my parents understood my situation to get married, they don’t know the fight I had to put up. The fight WE – my family and I – had to put. But we did it. So on my 21st birthday, I’m done wishing for myself. Now, I want pray for others. Others that are not as ‘lucky’ as me.

I may be 21, and I may be married. But before I was a wife, remember, I was a daughter.

-C-

February 16, 2010 - Pittsburgh, USA

2010-02-15T13:17:00.012-05:00

Who says I’m older now?
Voting has simply been allowed
Hope to make a change somehow
Who says I'm older now?

Who says growing old is uncool?
What’s so cool about preschool?
Oops, not trying to be rude
Time is a cruel whirlpool.

Who says 21 holds the key?
Probably the key to less acne
Let’s not be too cocky
We still need our family.

Who says I don’t have friends?
I may be home most weekends
Because friends are not just trends
Truly they are godsends.

Who says I’m moving too fast?
It’s my life so don’t trespass
Honestly life’s been a blast
Who says I’m way too fast?

Who says money is life or death?
Perhaps they've never experienced
The real meaning of a single breath
Who says money is life or death?

Who says we should take our time?
Must we wait for the divine
Before we decide to make that climb
Who says we'll have the time?

Who says I can’t get high?
Definitely not by standing by
Join in, life’s not dry
Who says I can’t get high?

Now I’m finally out of rhyme
This is the end for the meantime
Celebrating with dear husband of mine
Today I shall not whine! :D

-C-

Lailee's Fifth

2010-02-10T19:48:00.000-05:00

Today was my baby's fifth birthday. Lailee turned 5 on February 10, 2010. It was a normal day, no school, and she snuggled up between us in the morning. She was extra manja today. In fact, she was extra extra manja since last night when she sat between both our laptops. She's a cute baby. Usually she would scream for us to wake up so that I'll fill her bowl for breakfast, but she was so sweet today, so understanding (maturity?) And then we continued our usual activities (studying) with her forever next to us. Tonight, we took out the cupcake we've been saving for her. Poor Lailee (lucky us), she's not really into anything else except for her cat food. BUT, one thing I discovered was she really loves that wheat grass I bought her. My early birthday present for her. Ironically, on her birthday, I have my own wish. I wish that I'll be able to have enough to support her journey home back to Nilai in 2012. Amen.

Of course, I did not celebrate Lailee's birthday without acknowledging the recent passing of two of my loveliest cats, Libby and Cool. They were the only cats left that we brought from Permata to Nilai. Now all the cats that are left are the 'new cats'. They will always be missed, together with my boyfriend, Lost, who could not even make it to Nilai...

Stupid Joke

2010-02-08T20:11:00.004-05:00

Knock knock.

Who's there?

Snow storm!

Snow storm who?

Snow storm who's giving Pitt two days of holiday!

(Lame, I know :p But who cares! I got two days off! Wee!)

-C-

Crisis Simulation

2010-02-07T20:28:00.004-05:00

It is that time again for me to commit myself to a boring entry :)

Last week, for our World Politics class, we had an in-class crisis simulation. It was simple; all of us had to sign on for a country and a working group. Our simulation? The six-party talks concerning North Korean nuclear program. I remember the first class of World Politics when our TA went through the syllabus and pointed out the simulation. I groaned silently. I was about to celebrate a presentation-free semester. But I surprised myself to find out that the simulation was really interesting!

Rassyid and I signed on as Russians. We figured it should not be difficult as we are quite comfortable with the knowledge we had from a Russian mini-research we did for last year’s Comparative Politics. I took on the role of aid as I thought Russia’s stand would be that of disagreeing with everything that the United States group would offer. I was wrong.

At first I was not looking forward to the simulation and I put off the research till the weekend before it. Our group had a meeting and I was shocked to find out that only three of us had really done a complete research on Russia’s position during past talks. In the end all of them agreed to use the material I found as it was the most comprehensive.

Then came the day itself. Somehow I was not nervous. I know it was a college-level simulation of a real-world problem, so I should not worry myself so much. But at the same time I was honestly excited! I wanted to put my research to good use for my country group. The first day of the simulation was difficult. Difficult in the sense that none of the country was willing to negotiate to a middle agreement. Frustrating, to say the least. The second day of the simulation went better. Everyone was willing to offer more on the table as long as we could find a solution to the North Korean crisis. And amazingly, our country, Russia, stood out. Some of us really went all out and brought a Russian flag – that was only the start of it. By the end, we were the ‘heroes’ as our head negotiator was the one who came up with most of the solutions. To me it was ironic as the same head negotiator was also the one who said, “We Russians really do nothing during these talks and just agree with whatever China offers.”

At the end of the day, I was happy with how everything went. Everything goes smoothly, and I hope my professor will realize that my name is under the Russian group ;)

-C-

Greens

2010-02-02T17:07:00.005-05:00

I’m sorry, but I JUST HAVE TO RANT! It’s not that I’m ungrateful but there are, surprisingly, many consequences to this.

I know for these past few days my blog appears to vibrate too much negativity than one can handle, BUT I JUST HAVE TO RANT SOMEWHERE!!!

They didn’t email us. They didn’t notify each one of us. If ESP was part of the requirement, I was not informed of it. Do they think we have nothing better to do but to google their website and to accidentally stumble upon it (which happens to be what I did)? Or are they really too…’busy’ social-networking to realize that not ALL of us have them in our list? Or is it the weather? The work-away-from-work? The semi-vacation? WHAT EXACTLY???

We were not notified about the dateline. That’s the simple truth. We didn’t know. And shockingly, their cute little website/blog is not included in the small booklet they distributed earlier. We didn’t know. I mean, think about it. I have nothing to hide. But I didn’t know how. I didn’t want to appear informal. But I didn’t know it is actually acceptable. I asked, but I didn’t get a reply. I’m new for God’s sake. How was I supposed to know?

And the other question, what is the point of withholding? So that we’ll suffer? Not all of us have mummies and daddies that own a company back home. Not all of our parents send us away with greens alongside their prayers. Not all of us. Some of us really depend on you. And I’m not complaining, you have been generous, thank you so much. Alhamdulillah, it is sufficient to survive given how long they are supposed to last. But when come times like these, how are we suppose to pay rent? Books? Bills? Fine, starve us, but books?! (Okay, honestly, my real concern is rent since we’re supposed to have it every first week of the month or penalty will follow suit. Are we supposed to have an extra five hundred every time?)

I don’t splurge. Occasionally I do spend more than I should, yes. But what, once a month? How is this fair to people like me who try to save on every occasion that I could? When it runs out, I’m still here. I need to eat. I need a place to stay. If I, or any of my friends, were back in Malaysia, sure, a phone call and we could survive. But here? Some of my friends are already facing overdrafts!

I am aware that when people like me say things like that, they’ll lash out. “Ungrateful kids!” “Try being in our shoes and change the system if you’re so smart!” “What you know, you complain only.” I know, I know, who am I? I don’t know how the system works. Who says I can do a better job. But one thing they need to realize is, that’s why a week or two is tolerable. We didn’t complain early on, did we? We understand one hundred percent that sometimes there are things way out of our hands. There are things that nobody can do anything about, true. AND WE TOTALLY UNDERSTAND. But three weeks???

To answer my earlier question - who am I? - I’ll tell you right now. I am someone who is lucky that my parents had a couple extra buck to give me six months ago.

-C-

Jan 31st, 2010

2010-02-01T11:05:00.003-05:00

SWIFT, SERIOUSLY?!!!

(Pia, what if this summer we get together to write songs during our INTI years? Don't worry, I'll just play chords ADFG for the whole song repetitively. AND, I'll use the same chords for ALL 10 songs. Then we'll send it to the Recording Academy. Confirm next Grammy ours. Oh, and remember, we can't ask Elly for help, because her much poetic, much mature style of writing will be thrown into the bin like Gaga's.)

-C-

And they wonder why we hate them?

2010-01-26T11:57:00.001-05:00

STOP THIS DISCRIMINATION!!!

PARIS — A French parliamentary panel recommended on Tuesday moves to curb the wearing of Muslim veils in certain public facilities and suggested that lawmakers should pass a resolution condemning the garments. But it stopped short of pressing for a total ban.

A report from the panel said that lawmakers were unable to unanimously agree to an outright ban “at this stage,” even though many favored one.

The report, however, called for legislation to ban the covering of the face in public services.

Presenting the report, members of the panel suggested that this could include hospitals, public transport, schools, post offices and even banks — areas where identification is important.

Instead of recommending a total ban of the veil, the report from the 32-member panel, which crossed party lines, said the Council of State, a body which provides the executive with legal advice and acts as a court of last resort, should examine whether legislation should be introduced.

Lionnel Luca, a lawmaker from the governing center-right party and a member of the panel, said the report was a “missed opportunity.”

“We’ll study the issue, we’ll have a resolution — that’s all great,” he said after the release of the 280-page document. “But what we really need is a clear text that outlaws the burqa.”

“We need to go further and we need the political will. At the moment I don’t see that,” he said.

The opposition Socialist Party boycotted the panel’s vote on the report because the issue had become embroiled in a simultaneous debate on national identity initiated by President Nicolas Sarkozy. Mr. Luca said only 14 members of the commission voted — eight for and six against.

The report was the culmination of an inquiry into the wearing of all-enveloping burqas, a full-length garment with a grill over the eyes, that began after President Sarkozy said in June that the burqa was “not welcome” on French territory. Mr. Sarkozy called for a resolution by lawmakers condemning veils, to be followed by a debate on legislation.

The panel’s findings were also directed at the niqab, which leaves the eyes uncovered.

Critics of the veils have described them as a tool of extremism, a hindrance to women’s rights and an affront to France’s cherished secularity.

But the debate raised concerns about the constitutionality of state mandates on dress and the possibility of aggravating tensions among France’s Muslims, many of whom feel alienated and excluded from social and economic progress.

“I don’t think an ideology should be fought through constraining measures but through ideas,” Mohammed Moussaoui, the head of a national coalition of Muslim organizations, told The Associated Press on Monday. “It’s very difficult to talk about the liberation of women through a law that constrains.”

He said, however, that it was legitimate to ask women to remove their veils in all “public services” like post offices and schools “where identification is necessary.”

In 2004, the government banned head scarves and other signs of religious affiliation in public schools in France.

France has largest Muslim population in Western Europe — the majority with roots in North Africa — estimated at between five and six million. But fewer than 2,000 women wear the full veil in France, according to the Interior Ministry. France would become the first European country to adopt legislation on restricting the full veil.

The center-right Danish prime minister, Lars Loekke Rasmussen, said last week that his government was also considering restricting the burqa and niqab. And in November, Swiss voters supported a referendum to ban the building of minarets on mosques.

The leader of Mr. Sarkozy’s rightist grouping in Parliament, Jean-Francois Copé, has already presented a draft bill that would make it illegal, for reasons of security, for anyone to cover their faces in public. Violators would face fines, according to the draft, which is not due to be debated until after regional elections in March.

-C-

p/s: My history professor is right: Sarkozy is crazy.

Words...they are NOT just words.

2010-01-24T13:43:00.003-05:00

“America is not a good place to study, nope.”

“Ooh, why the many onions? You’re not cooking, are you?”

“C’mon, all you’ve learned are just the little things.”

“Do you know that I have a friend who took Political Science and guess where she’s working now…Astro!”

Go on and guess who said all those things to me.

...Those who are related to me by blood. (Not my immediate family, though.) They sure know how to be funny when not asked for, don’t they?

Sure, I don’t go to Harvard, but where did you go to? Yeah I can’t cook for our whole family, but my seniors (yup, not just my husband) reeeally like my spaghetti. I may have only learned a little, but they sure as hell are more than what you know. So what if your friend works at Astro, as least she’s working.

I’m sick of this. To those who saw my status on Facebook, you now know what ‘this’ refers to.

I’m your family, dammit. (I’m sorry for the language…no, I’m not. I’m sick of feeling I’m never going to be good enough.) I’m sick of justifying everything that I do. I’m sick of having to prove what I’m made of. I’m sick. For as long as I’ve lived, I realize I’ve said those words more than once. Why? Why? Is it so hard to support me and my choices? Is it so hard to believe me? Is it so hard to just say, “Wow, that’s amazing! Hope you can teach me a thing or two when you get back.” Is that so hard? Don’t start lecturing me now on how I seldom show respect. My silence is my show of respect. My silence is show that your words do matter to me. I take them, think about them, and most importantly, act on them. What about you?

Kak Yong wrote something on her blog that I totally agree with – don’t misjudge those who appear to be strong. I do believe that the strongest on the outside are the most self-conscious on the inside. It’s no wonder that I have a lot to rant on here, eh?

Every time we get back home from school, the first thing I’ll do is find my Lailee and hug her – everyday. Don’t take my words if you don’t want to, ask Diana. Even though she’s annoying sometimes (Lailee, not Diana) –running around when we’re sleeping, getting on us when we’re studying – she’s my baby. After a full day away from her there’s nothing I want more than to tell her over and over that she’s my baby and I love her – and Lailee’s just a cat.

-C-

p/s: Maybe Zaim's right, I should reconsider going back until I'm confident I've become a better me, although that obviously won't be enough. (Take note of that Zaim.)

Let's play a game...

2010-01-23T22:04:00.002-05:00

Okay, here's the deal. I'm beginning to have less and less to talk about. I know what my parents would say, "Just write about your little updates." Problem is, there ain't no updates unless my friends really want to know what quiz is going on this week, or which assignment is due.

However, that does not mean I am quitting from the realm of blogging. I can never quit, can I? Plus I love this blog. I'm proud of what I've written. And for now, I do have a topic to write on, but it is time that I'm short of.

Anyway, I will keep on writing, BUT...I will have another blog too. Don't worry, it's not like some sort of secret (or I won't be writing here, will I?) But I'm not telling where it is.

So here's the deal, IF any of you is interested, feel free to find that new blog. But may I warn you know, it will be difficult.

First clue: you can't find it under Chesza or Syaza Shukri ;p

I would suggest some of you to drop this, but to those who have the extra time, and want to find it, give me a holla once you do!

-C-

Troubling toil

2010-01-13T19:50:00.001-05:00

I used to plead, “Let me go! Let me go!”

I was also a coward, “The future’s too bleak.”

I did lack confidence, “I’m no better.”

Most importantly, I hid behind a wall...And I also stepped into your truck.

Funny.

Not much has changed.

Except for you.

-C-

2010-01-13T19:32:00.002-05:00

CAIR

Them, seriously?

2010-01-12T17:25:00.007-05:00

We live in world where society is a friend we did not call nor seek – it is. Society includes our family, friends, neighbors, classmates, bosses, and those people without a home calling your attention every time you pass them. There is, clearly, no escape. We are taught to be social beings for a long time. A Hi here, Bye there, and Thank You most times. But sometimes many don’t realize that being a society is not like being in a relationship: no one is above the other. Instead of figuring out who wears the pants, it is a state of equality – that of us, and them.

I have been a troublemaker all my life. Not really causing trouble, but not exactly living up to the norm acceptable. Is it “life is too short” that they use to say? It is very difficult to try to control everything, which is why I choose not to. In a universe where you can no longer control the weather as much as you can control the mysteries of the heart, every person is a weakling. You think Obama is all that powerful? Ask him to cure Cancer. You think Raja Petra is a genius? Ask him to come back and face the music. Nobody’s powerful enough.

In the same way, I do not waste precious moment to think of the things that are out of my grasp. I can’t make the bus appear whenever I’d like for it to. I can’t make the professors here pronounce my name correctly the first time, every time. And I definitely cannot make everyone loves me. I just can’t. If I do, I will just go against everything I believe in – and have worked for – to please those social beings that never even once bother to ask if my pinkish cheek is hurting me every time I made the effort to meet them.

Shila, my best friend, used to be so concerned when we were in school. She’s the lovable type whereas I’m the kind of girl which is only the cup of tea for a few. Every one falls in love with Shila at first sight, but others need to get past my sarcasm to see my ‘good side’. Once a while a teacher would appear frustrated and Shila would be like, “Syaz, is it my fault?” I was truly annoyed. You lived live the best you can, don’t you? If you knew how to act differently, or in a more socially acceptable manner, you would, wouldn’t you? So why stress yourself over things you can’t control? (Of course Shila’s a lot laidback now ;)) People will keep on talking. Try being an angel; at the end of the day, this is not heaven, yet. You want reality, this is reality. People are people. They like to talk, and nothing sensationalize a conversation more than your shortcomings, however small they may be! That’s human being for your introductory course! You try your best but you can never win. NEVER.

My philosophy is just living life the way YOU are proud of. Not what they think you SHOULD be, but what you ARE. That way, no matter what bad things people say about you, they can never bring you down because you know this is your life to be lived. I’m not saying go on, try some drugs because they make you happy, no! I’m saying with your sound judgment, you should be PROUD of the way you’ve lived your life. Yes, people make mistakes a lot of time. But the past is there to teach of the future. “Life is too short for you to make all your own mistakes. That is why you learn from others'.” An old quote of that sort by Will Smith has never left the back of my head. Take charge of what you can, laugh off what you can’t.

When the weather’s too cold, my pink cheek makes for a good piggy impression.

-C-

His 21st!

2010-01-09T20:17:00.003-05:00

Come 12 pm tomorrow, my husband (still quite surreal to say the word!) will turn 21, as he was born on January 11th 1989, Malaysia time. To celebrate his life, our relationship, and friends and family, I recorded this song by Malique of Too Phat, adding my own personal touch to the lyrics.

I love you, sayang, my husband, Abdul Rassyid.

-C-

Have A Little Faith

2010-01-01T16:38:00.001-05:00

“But seeing [Pastor] Henry that day, being cheered by all those new faces, I believe, as the Reb once told me, that, with a little faith, people can fix things, and they truly can change, because at that moment, you could not believe otherwise.”

Reading Have a Little Faith, a book by Mitch Albom, is truly a gift. As a Muslim, I have always known that when there’s a little food on the table, it is because God does not wish for me to go hungry. If I have a little spare time, it has nothing to do with time management, but God’s wish. I could have chosen any book from Barnes & Noble, but I chose this book: a simple story of a Rabbi’s view of life as he approached death and a pastor’s rise from the lowest low. I am a Muslim. That does not stop me from appreciating stories of other faiths.

While reading about the Rabbi (or the Reb, as he is called in this book), I can’t help but smile here and there wherever I found similarities between the Reb’s view on life with mine. I was surprised that the things I appreciated most in life are the same as the Reb’s. Therefore it saddens me that whenever the word Jew, or Holocaust, or Hanukkah, is raised in the presence of Muslims, they would immediately think of the Palestinian cause and thus, stamped Jews with a bad rep. But if these people from the Abrahamic faith do some good, the ‘others’ would instantly think of an underlying motive, as if we are taught not to think otherwise.

If only everyone could just step back and see that there are many kinds of Jew as there are many types of Muslim. Not every Muslim observe whatever the Quran teaches us to, and not every Jew dreams of killing Muslims in their sleep. I was touched when reading the part where the Reb went to the north of Palestine, and found a children’s coloring book with a picture of an Arab family in it. Mitch Albom, the writer, asked him why he kept this picture of their supposed ‘enemy’. The Reb’s answer was simple: a family once lived. As it may be, not every Jew out there is a duplicate of the Reb, but if one person could take a firm stand, he could be the bigger voice that could change a generation.

Although this book was written by Albom about his journey on faith re-discovery, I re-discover mine too. Albom was honest in telling his story. He told of how he was taught since young about his ‘side’, and I can’t help but to ask “Isn’t the same happening back home?” If many are afraid that I’ll be brainwashed in the States for learning about the Holocaust, aren’t they being brainwashed too by our own clerics? And I don’t blame them, I understand. But fanaticism won’t bring about any good. Without a doubt, I believe in diplomacy.

Since Avatar has been the talk of town for a while now, let’s take a look there. To show that I have not forgotten my roots, the Na’vis in the movie reminded me of my own kind – people of my faith. To say that we are misunderstood is an understatement. It’s no longer about misunderstanding (as I have found out by learning from my educated, non-Muslim, Islamic Civilization classmates, who smirked where most of us would). More are aware of the difference between Shi’ites and Sunnis, and what the Sharia Law is about. But it is greed, ego, and thinking one’s race is better that is pulling the world (both this and the 2154 fiction of Pandora) apart. I am amazed that cinema-goers could sympathize with the Na’vis, but not with those living human beings, fighting to protect their homes and land, everyday.

“Have you ever known a man of faith? Did you run the other way? If so, stop running. Maybe sit for a minute. For a glass of ice water. For a plate of corn bread. You may find there is something beautiful to learn, and it doesn’t bite you and it doesn’t weaken you, it only proves a divine spark lies inside each of us, and that spark may one day save the world.”

-C-

Winter Break

2009-12-29T16:54:00.004-05:00

It has been a while since I had so much fun! It started last weekend when Pittsburgh suddenly turned white. Even though it was cold, Rassyid and I found an excuse to go out (which is to buy plants for our home). We thought that was to be our only outing, until I received a text from our seniors, inviting us sliding in the snow. It was honestly fun sliding at night, when there was no other person in the park except for us.

The next day was our "Ladies' Night", which I accidentally ruined. Six of us went out to watch the ballet, Nutcracker. The ballet was nice and all, both colorful and beautiful. But when we were deciding where to go for dinner, I called my husband, who was watching American football for the first time. Since he hadn't had dinner yet, I invited him to have dinner with us, and that's how it changed to another "Malaysian Night" with the rest.

And then on Wednesday Diana arrived in Pittsburgh! Rassyid and I went to the Greyhound station after subuh and thankfully, Diana was getting out of the bus when we arrived. Took her home, and brought her to Market District, since she never went to a pasar in the US since her arrival :p Then I checked my facebook page just to find out that ASILAH will arrive that same night! So around 10 we went to the station again, this time for Asilah, Aina, and her sis, Kak Aimi. Since it was already late, we were only able to serve them Maggi :(

On Thursday we took them too Monroeville Mall as Aina wanted to shop before New York. I think Rassyid was most shocked when he saw Aina going into a store and grabbed everything she like. I was glad though that they enjoyed themselves. It was sad that the store had to close early for Christmas Eve and we did not even reach the other wing of the mall!

On Friday it was raining. We can't do much anyway since it was Christmas, so I took them to Pitt, our school. Unfortunate for us, school was closed (obviously). But somehow, one of the Cathedral's door was unlocked! At least they were able to get an 'inside look' of the most famous building of Pitt.

On the three's last day, I took them to see The Nutcracker - again! I've watched it but Rassyid hasn't, so I thought why not take all of them. It was a nice show anyway, so I didn't mind paying the discounted student price. Then we went to Mt Washington, the second most beautiful view in the States. It was night, so we can't point many of the buildings; nonetheless the view was beautiful. And finally, Aina's favorite part - shopping! On the way back we stopped at Burlington, and again, Aina went crazy over the cheap stuff. A few hours later, Rassyid and I were on the bus again towards 11th st to bid farewell to Asilah, Aina and Kak Aimi.

But no worries, Diana is still with us! We already have plans for New Year's Eve, and today I cooked Nasi Lemak again, specially for her. Hopefully she'll not feel too bored in Pittsburgh!

-C-

dancing in the skies

2009-12-21T20:21:00.005-05:00

ALHAMDULILLAH, ALHAMDULILLAH!!!

I CALL IT A BLESSING FOR DOING THE RIGHT THING.

I KNOW GOD IS ON MY SIDE 100%.

IN YOUR FACE, JPA!

-C-

p/s: And that's, ladies and gentlemen, why I don't go out before finals (except for NY and Thanksgiving). NERD!

p/p/s: And remember people, it's 93+ over here. To those who think this system is easy, try reading more than 30 pages PER subject PER day, multiply that with FOUR classes that meet twice a week, and you'll get the magic number. Not counting papers and the usual quizzes, of course.

Meow

2009-12-18T13:13:00.002-05:00

Aarg! Writer's block, writer's block!

-C-

Guess Who

2009-12-07T20:55:00.002-05:00

I love this part from the movie Guess Who, and just wanna share with y'all :)

Percy : If you're going to marry one of these women, sometimes it's gonna hurt like hell, and all you can do is admit that you're wrong and know that she's always right.

Simon : She's right?

Percy : That's right.

Simon : Always.

Percy : Right.

Simon : Right.

Percy : That's right.

Simon : What about all the talk about my dignity?.

Percy : Do you love her? Do you want her? Then she's always right.

-C-

And...

2009-12-07T17:36:00.003-05:00

SPAGHETTI!

Okay, this blog now feels like a food blog, sorry 'bout it. :p

But to those who doubt my cooking abilities -- in your face! Hehe.

-C-

Finally!

2009-12-05T20:13:00.003-05:00

It snowed in the city of Pittsburgh! These pictures were taken in the morning. I know it's not so clear, but it was the best that we could do in the bright light. Oh wells, just wanna update my mum who's been asking, "Dah snow belum?" By the way, after we saw the snow, the first thing Rassyid said was: "CHRISTMAS!" My hubby's so cute.

Just want to include a picture of my sayang. We're teaching her solat. Huahahahahah!

-C-

Come all!

2009-11-29T18:39:00.006-05:00

Okay people! 363 S Negley Ave is officially open (well, not until we're done with finals)! We finally had the opportunity to pimp up our apartment (borrowing Elly's term). Now everyone is invited to come to Pittsburgh, especially during the winter break since we're not going anywhere. Yay!

She misses Malaysia... :p

-C-

Lucky me

2009-11-29T18:25:00.005-05:00

I am so proud of my husband. I am so happy to have him as my partner. He is the man I have been waiting for, because he has the same vision as me. We both believe that in a home, in a family, there should be equality, just as how I wrote in the post on the day we got married. There is equality in the sense that I'm not the only one doing the cooking and cleaning, and he's not the only one who has to assemble our new furniture. There is no such thing as a 'female job' and a 'man's work'.

I'm writing this as an appreciation towards my husband. He not only knows how to differentiate a vacuum cleaner and a mop, but he also knows how to use them - without complaints! And I know of guys who never even touch a vacuum cleaner. Some parents are so...'protective'? I don't know. But some feel like cleaning is the job of the daughter and their boys can sit do nothing (even if their daughters have things to do too). But my husband, he understands we are both students and thus, we should both do our chores equally. It is because of him that I promise to myself when I have my own boys and girls, I'm going to teach ALL of them to use a vacuum cleaner and the right way to put a screw in.

My husband is amazing because when I'm in 'my mood', he does not wait around but instead goes to the kitchen and cooks something for me. And no, it's not fried chicken with omelet, but tom yam, kuey teow, and once, nasi biryani. Tell me where can I find a guy like that nowadays? When he sees the laundry basket full, he goes to the toilet and washed 'em all. He does not have the mentality of that being my job and what being his job. Of course some would say that that's supposed to be the way since both of us are students, but come on, what about when both are working? Isn't the situation similar? Both have outside responsibilities so why is there still this mindset that man does this and woman does that? When I have my own kids, they're going to learn responsibility is equally distributed.

I am a lucky girl. I am such a lucky wife. Do I love this guy or what.

-C-

Thanksgiving

2009-11-28T21:56:00.007-05:00

Alright! Second one! In contrast to the first trip, this one is planned waaay in advance. The initial plan was to visit Uncle Robert in DC for Thanksgiving. And then I told Zaim about it. And he wanted to spend time in DC too. Then he wanted to go shopping for Black Friday TOO. Alas, we decided to do both, which, is sad for me for Rassyid and I would love to spend more time in DC. So on Tuesday, we took the bus from Pittsburgh at 2 am. We arrived around 8.40 am. Diana called, saying she had arrived earlier than scheduled (we should have arrived first!) So the three of us met and walked from the Greyhound station to Union Station. There we met Uncle Robert who took us to America, the restaurant. He gave us a tour of the place before it opens. Then the tour 'moved' to the McDonald's in the station where we had breakfast. Found out that the rest will arrive late so the three of us went on a DC tour on our own.

We walked to the Smithsonian museum. First we went to the natural museum, then the Smithsonian Institution and then the American History museum. I wanted to go to the Holocaust museum but we did not have enough time for that so we just walked back to the station. Lils called to say they were running late too. After all of us were there, we went to have lunch at America. Uncle Robert was sooo nice. We had a lovely lunch with a lovelier desert!

Then it was time for Jiamin to give us a free tour of DC. We took the metro from the Union to GWU. Jiamin showed us around her campus and it was really cool that GWU is in walking distance to the White House, World Bank, and IMF. It's especially cool that Jiamin's doing PS too. From there we put our stuff at her place and walked to the White House, Washington Monument, and Lincoln Memorial. It was night (reminded me of our night walk through NYC) so the pictures were not so good but oh wells, it was the bonding time that matters - gossip! And soon we were all tired.

At first we wanted to have dinner somewhere near GWU but the place was closed so we took the metro again to MALAYSIA KOPITIAM, where Aunty Sally works. My lord the food was sooo nice! I only had roti canai but man, it is always nice to have Malaysian food when you're abroad, more so with nice company! When the restaurant closed, we separated as Rassyid, Diana, and I went over to Uncle Robert's place and the rest heading either to Jiamin's dorm or a hotel.

There, after taking a bath, Rassyid and I chatted with Uncle Robert, Aunty Sally, and Andrew. It was close to 1 am that we slept in Adeline's room with Diana. It was so good to sleep after sleeping in a bus and touring DC nonstop. The next morning we woke up to the smell of laksa! How much better can this get, eh? We ate and soon enough Diana came down and then Zahid called to say he's at the metro station. Uncle Robert went to pick him up and all of us had (original, Malaysian, spicy!) laksa, and rendang and rice... Oh, the point is that we were so full and happy!

After taking a few pictures, we had to say goodbye to everyone and Uncle Robert took us to the Dulles Air and Space Museum. Diana was happy because that's where Night at the Museum was shot; Zahid was happy because he once wanted to be a pilot; and I am happy because that's where Sam found the Decepticon Jetfire in Transformers 2 (Rassyid's just happy to be with me :p)! We walked around the museum for almost 2 and a half hour. We also went on a simulator but it was not that fun. Next, Uncle Robert took us to the Asian market where Diana was the happiest one to get her Old Town coffee and biscuits. After that off we went to the Iwo Jima memorial. But on the way, Uncle Robert took a wrong turn and because of that, we passed the Pentagon! So cool. At the memorial we took quick snaps and then we had to send Diana to her bus stop. Later Uncle Robert took us to the Greyhound station where we finally said goodbye :(

Our bus left exactly at 5.30 pm and headed to NYC. Both Diana and the rest of us were supposed to arrive at 10pm but she arrived earlier - again. So, Zahid, Rassyid, and I, ran 8 streets down towards 34th street where our bus to Woodbury was already waiting. We called Jiamin, Zaim, and Lils, and we boarded the bus.

We arrived at Woodbury around 12 am. Yes, a.m. people, and after another full day of DC tour. We split up and shop shop shop! I thought it would take only, like, 3 hours for me to shop (so that I can spend the rest of the nigh sleeping), but who knows there were so many stores to check out! Not only that, the lines were sooo long and the queues at the cashier were just as long! At the end, Rassyid and I finished our shopping at around 5.15 am. Yes, a.m. All of us took the bus back to NYC and arrived around 6.40 am.

Because of the cold weather, we bid farewell there on the streets of NYC and Rassyid and I went to the Greyhound station to exchange our ticket to the earliest time available. Thus exactly at 8.30 am we left for Pittsburgh. But because the bus went through so many transits, it took us TWELVE hours to reach Pittsburgh. I swear, I'm not taking anymore buses in the USA. By the time I turn 21 next year, it's just going to be cars for me, all the way to San Francisco. But the good side is that we got to walk around Philadelphia for 30 minutes. It was sufficient enough to buy stuff at the Hard Rock Cafe there :p

-C-

After nasi lemak, next...

2009-11-22T14:41:00.003-05:00

Dessert!

Projek menjadi isteri mithali dalam usaha! :p

-C-

Long Weekend, no recitation.

2009-11-16T21:15:00.005-05:00

Had an interesting weekend. But not in the mood of writing. So gonna put pictures instead. Starting with Friday evening when we went to watch Light/The Holocaust & Humanity Project, a ballet.

First we went for dinner at the Orinal Oyster House, supposedly the most famous restaurant in Pittsburgh for a hundred years. Big fish sandwiches though.

Those pictures were taken after the ballet. The theater is called the Byham Theater.

Me and my Transformers, of course.

Some background of a parking lot and UPMC at the back.

Waiting for the bus.

Forced to get online.

Waiting for bus to go to the Asian market.

"Ella, ella, eh, eh."

And...my first attempt at nasi lemak. Will improvise, soon, definitely :)

-C-

Hillman Library

2009-11-12T15:19:00.006-05:00

I'm at the library. Waiting for Rassyid. Reading a book on ethnicity in Malaysia. Yes, it took me to be miles away from home to be excited on Malaysia. (Tak sangka ada banyak buku on Malaysia here. Hehe) On another note, I need to do a paper for my PoliSci class on a constitution, any constitution. So, of course my easiest choice is my home country.

As I was reading, thoughts kept on crashing with each other in my head. On the constitution. On Islam. On NEP. On Chinese-Malay relationship. All sorts of things. I wish for a better Malaysia, but I know not in this generation. I'm not some kind of crazy 'new Malay' that wants equality all of a sudden. Some may say I'm lucky; I don't understand them. Why don't the try to understand me? No, I am not a NEW Malay. I am Malay, full stop. I know and I understand their need for a policy to help Malays. Read again. I know their need. There is no such thing as a universal desire. But of course in order to run a country you need to have some sort 'generalization' of the people or you won't get anything done. Fine.

What really drove me to write a blog entry right now, a few minutes before my PoliSci class, is a chapter in the book on Pork. Yup, pork. And I agree. I agree that pork is a defining topic on the story of ethnicity in Malaysia. Pork is an interesting story. Pork is GREAT. Yes, I know some 'conservative' Malays (note, not Muslims) do not like me using the two words in a sentence. But did I say anything on the consumption of it in that three-word sentence? We know Chinese eat pork. So? (Suddenly I remember Wenli's song with satay babi in it. Embarrassingly, I didn't know there existed such a satay. How ignorant. But then, I don't don't like her. I love her. She's my friend. She's a Chinese. She loves pork, we all know that. So?) Food brings us together, food tore us apart? Why? Just as I've said to friends here, I don't care if you katok. As long as you don't bother me eating halal food, I won't bother you. I'm not an Islamic scholar. I'm just a person trying to live, trying to survive.

Now, my favorite topic: special rights to the Malays. Yeah, I've heard it all. "Malays need it to get equal!" "Malays were denied privileges by the British!" But all I hear is, "Malays are weak." There's this thing we learn in class call the 'Trust Fund States'. Basically, it is a country where there's so much oil that the leaders are not hold accountable to the people since they don't need the people to do anything for them! You know which country I'm particularly talking about, let's not be too direct here. These countries have everything. Wealth. With that, they don't need to do as much, compete as hard, or be as wise. But as I've said, I don't want to generalize. I've seen some of those people trying to make it work here at Pitt. But that's just the ones here. Now take this idea, and put it in Malaysia. Once you have the back of the state (not government, as it is a weak institution), you just won't try. If you get 6As for SPM, so what? There's this thing called Matrix where like, what, 90% are your 'kind'. Then from there, where? University of course. How you gonna pay? Look at skin color la brader, government la. Now, what about those with lighter skin color? They got 7As and all they can afford is a private college. And you want to brag? Please. I know I'm here under a scholarship, never let it slip my mind once. But I think I got it fairly. Not saying there are people who don't, I'm not here to judge. But I was in the list. I know even without some special privilege, I could still get it. I know some would say that's a premature judgment on my side. Luck plays a part. I don't call it luck; I call it God. Point is, there are many ways to survive, if you feel you need to. That's why they call it survival of the fittest. Now think. Those who are not 'fit enough' are given an advantage over those who are. They call if fair. I say it's weakening the country. I'm not saying we should let the rest rot off. I just want Malays to think why is it that Chinese could still survive after all? Because when they need it most, they have guilds and associations. Malays? Kaki dengki. Plus, it's proven throughout history that when citizens are not happy, they revolt. When they revolt, the country does not work. Thus?

Blast me all you want but remember, the country's not yours. Neither is it mine. I'm not calling for a drastic change. I've even give up my hope of being a politician, much less to be the first female Malaysian Prime Minister. I'm not interested. Politics is dirty. Why bother if I'm the only one?

-C-

linkglobal.org

2009-11-10T22:55:00.002-05:00

I know I haven't updated for a while now. Really been busy. So just something Rassyid and I just came back from. Yeah, we're nerds over here in Pitt. Shoot us.

"All of Us" TheHundred Holiday Campaign from LiNK Global on Vimeo.

-C-

Story of the past

2009-11-01T14:40:00.008-05:00

Dark, cold, and sleepy. Tututtutu...tututtutu!! Once. Twice. She can't hit snooze more than that. She want to. But she can't. Rubbed eyes. Turned left, turned right. It's still dark. But it's already time. Feet dragging body. Six f-ing am. Splash! "AARH!" She's now awake. Hot water. Drip... Drip... Why one has to bathe in the morning? It's not like one run a mile before sleeping. With that thought in mind, she wrapped herself in a thin towel and stepped out. Wishing. Can't she lay down for five more minute. ~~No. One minute.~~ Thirty seconds. Please. Of course she knows the answer. Took out the blue uniform, looked at it, and wished for the day she'll be able to wear anything she wants. Second wish. A slap of deodorant. Pull them on. Mirror. Immature, childish, young. Put on face powder. Hides imperfections. Not enough. Blusher. Too pink. Wiped it off. Lipgloss. Ok. Turned west. Pray. Prostate. Can she grow up any faster. Bag filled with books, blue scarf, and off. Every one's there. Mum. Dad. Brother in college. Took a seat. Mmm. Coffee. Toast. Malaysian style. Every thing's there. Ready. But oh look! Ten till seven! Dad's putting on socks! Thrust down half a bread and drained the cup. Gulp. Now. Scarf! Pull one end. Then the other. Done. Kissed mum. Hand and cheek. Bye! Socks...they're not in the drawer! Ran to the room. The one near the back of the house. Next to the kitchen. In a basket. Black socks. Black shoes. S-! The car's engine's on! Run run. Get in the car. The car. Blue car. Move. Red. Glimpses of a rising sun. Another day. Kissed dad. Take money. So simple. If only she has her own source of money. Third wish. Walked through the gate. There's her! There's him! Oh friendly faces. Wait up! Talk. What about? Nothing. Laugh. Over who? No one. Put bags. Stood. Time for prefect job. Who's in the toilet? People. Smoking? No. Moving on. Who's at the back? People. Smoking? No. Moving on. Who's coming through the fallen gate? People. Who's going out? There! Stop him! Fuh, done for the morning. Rrring! Bell. Blue uniform. She can arrive late at the assembly. Sing. Negraku. Sing. Duli yang maha mulia. Sit down. Alone? No way. Look left, look right. Babe, save a place for her! Join babe. Teacher talked. About what? Nobody cares. Why bother. Teacher's going to say the same thing tomorrow. And tomorrow. And tomorrow. The final word. Dismiss. Blue uniform. Take position. Check. Look. See. Anybody wearing colored socks? Her! Name please. Not wearing camisole? There! Name please. Long nails? Everyone. Name please. Empty. Moving on. Classroom. Take seat. At the back. The farthest away. Teacher can't see. Her talk. She laughed. Put her bag. Life begun. Tok..tok...tok. Footsteps. Everyone. Places! Assalamualaikum cikgu. Waalakumusalam. Bismillahirrahmanirrahim. Duduk. Terima kasih cikgu. Repeated. Twice? No. Three times. Look at the time. Ten minutes to 10. Need to go to recess. Hungry. Half a bread consumed. Brain needed energy. Why now? Blue uniform. Ooh.. Nobody. Empty. Nasi Lemak. Four a table. Her, her, her, and her. Hurry. The bell's gonna...and it has. Kids rushing. Big guy. Tall guy. Hurry up guys. Go to your posts. Ok. Plates. Basin. Bye babes! Walk. And walk. Yo there! Anything new? No. Thought so. I'll be there, you go there. Ok. Toilets. Smoke? Nuh-uh. Field. Fights? Juniors. Stop! Why? None of your business. Really? Hey, that's the friendly sis. Huh? She's cool. Nothing then. Right. Don't fight. Watch. Five till bell. Bored. Tired. Tall guy not around. Sit down. At the back. Near the surau. Bell. Waited for her babe. At the stairs leading to the canteen. Her babe's commanding everyone to clear the canteen. She needs help. Go down. Talk to them. Empty. As before. Walk. To class. Teacher on the way. Hid behind wall. D-! There, the other stairs. But that's the faculty's stair! So? Fine! Run! Near main office. Walk slowly. Smile. Up another flight. Run! Reached class. Teacher's not there yet. We are. Sigh. Looked outside. Beautiful weather. Wait a minute. Wasn't she sleepy before? Where did it go? Mystery. Sun's out. Honk! Man, if only she can drive outside. In a circle. With no point. Any car. With a license. Fourth wish. Look at the time! Five more minutes till end. Countdown. Four. Some kids were running. Three. Wasn't that the afternoon session's kids? Two. My guy's behind the door. One. First to pack bags. Zero. BYE EVERYONE! Hi. Hi. How's your day? Not bad. Got the result. And? Not an A. It's okay, there's always next time. Yeah. Wait, do you hear giggling? Turn. Her and her. They're behind them. Well. Same route. No one to blame. Okay, see you this afternoon. You too. Open the gate. Forcefully. For someone to realize she's back. Knock on the door. Shout! Yes, coming! Tired and hungry. There. The food's on the table. Ready. Put bag. Took off scarf. Get a plate. A scoop of rice. ~~Two pieces of chicken.~~ No, just one. Diet. Veggies? No thank you. Front. TV. Cartoon. Disney. Ha.Ha. Not so funny. Finished rice. Sleepy. Oh yeah! Have to 'replace' lost time. Change clothes? Nah. Washed face. Pray. Dear God, thank you for all you've given her. But can you give more? Fifth wish. Magnet. The pillow. Yes. Now this is heaven. Tututtutu!! WHAT?! Time already?! Four dot three zero. D-! He's gonna be here soon! Wash face wash face. Arrg! Hideous! Powder! Better. Lipgloss. Obviously. Now where's the eyeliner...there! Time. Four dot five zero. Bag! Oh God. The phone's ringing. OUT! Hi. Hi. Slept? Uh-huh. You? Same. Walked. Below the flyover. Wait! What? There's a car there. Oh, thanks. You're welcome. Across the drain. Tuition. Up stairs. Another flight. Left. Big room. There's her, and him, and oh, that's the cute couple! I'll sit here. Okay. See you later? Uh-huh. Hi babe! Hi. Hi. Hi. Good afternoon everyone. Afternoon. Biology. Chemistry. Two hours. Six. Down the stairs. Another flight. Right. Blue car. See you guys tomorrow. Uh-huh. Moved. Across the highway. Near the big supermarket. Behind shophouses. Close to the playground. Home.

-C-

Where did those days go? Why didn't I appreciate them more? Because I was a teenager, a child. Eager to grow up. What now? God knows :)

Parties

2009-10-26T20:56:00.005-04:00

Bored in my room reading notes taken in class, I put the numbers in for a formula the TA for Politics gave to calculate the number of effective parties in a government.

Malaysia's current House of Representative apparently holds 5.5 active parties.

Yup, with the .5

But the statistics show that there are 19 political parties in Malaysia.

Isn't that interesting?

Guess like a relative once said, as long as they receive their allowances, need not for them to bother with the rest.

-C-

Fall

2009-10-21T19:33:00.002-04:00

Four straight days of blissful weather. The sun was out, the clouds were less, and the wind was calm. It feels like summer again. It feels like Malaysia again.

And then they say. They started talking. The nice weather is lingering for a while before they finally bid farewell for winter. They will go. Eventually. Soon.

Who says change is good. I want to sekeh the person who does. If this beautiful weather is just for tease, I don't need it :(

-C-

Do as the Chinese

2009-10-19T12:52:00.004-04:00

One day, before coming here, I accidentally stumbled upon a documentary on one of those 'learning' channels. It was about China's preparations before the world had its eye on them for the 2008 Olympics. One of the preparations is their English. Taxi drivers needed to pass English speaking exams if they wish to contribute during the summer Olympics. So did volunteers and the rest of China, for the matter. A segment of the show is about an English camp founded by a renowned lecturer in the country. I like his statement that goes something like this:

"We learn English not because we want to be subdued under them. We learn English because they are not ready to learn Mandarin...but we are!"

I think that statement is a very powerful one. English may be the universal language today but it is not the only language. Yes, to have English at both the tips of your fingers and tongues is important. But don't ever think that we have to put all the blame on ourselves and none on them as if they are that superior. The fact that most English-as-a-second-language speakers master more than two languages is a feat that we can be proud of.

Arrogant it may sound, but it is up to the person. If a person feels that native English speakers are the best in everything...then that is his wish. For me, I would ask the question "Why is it then that Asians still score much better in science and mathematics?" True, that when you're in their country you do as they do. But to feel inferior is wrong, if not plain ridiculous. You can survive here. Can they survive where you come from?

-C-

The Pitt News

2009-10-16T21:00:00.005-04:00

This is the front page story of The Pitt News on Thursday, October 15:

"As police searched for someone carrying a gun inside the Cathedral of Learning yesterday, classes within continued without interruption, while students and professors remained unaware of what was happening around them.

Shortly before 4 pm, Pitt police officers entered the Cathedral after receiving a phone call alleging that someone in a class had a gun on him.

Pitt spokesman John Fedele said that officers responded to Room 324, where the man was said to be. But the class ended at the same time that the 911 call came in, so the room was already empty when the police arrived.

The Cathedral was not evacuated nor did Pitt send out an Emergency Notification Service alert, which they have done in the past in response to bomb threats made to Pitt buildings..."

I had class at the Cathedral at 3 pm on Wednesday. When I walked out of the building, I saw the many police officers. I was joking with Rassyid saying this is just the 'leftovers' of the G20. I didn't know it was much serious. I didn't know Pitt has this kind of risk... And I certainly didn't know of the previous bomb threat. Does this city love drama?

-C-

Accent

2009-10-16T20:17:00.007-04:00

Last Monday we went to see Fareed Zakaria (CNN host and Newsweek editor) gave a talk at the Carnegie Music Hall. It was on the "solution" to the Middle East problem. The organizer was the Pittsburgh Middle East Institute. I didn't even know it exist. Anyway, we went because Fareed Zakaria is the writer to one of our textbooks, "The Future of Freedom." I like his ideas in the book, that's why I'm interested to hear him speak. We got the tickets for free as Pitt students. There were many delegates from Middle Eastern countries such as Oman and Egypt. Fareed Zakaria is a naturalized US citizen. He grew up in India. I don't know why but all through the one hour talk all I can think about is the fact that he's Indian. I know it is sooo unacademic. Oh wells. On another note, we had to watch "Gandhi", a movie, for our Politics class. So yeah.

When I first arrived here I have to admit I was intimidated the first few minutes I eavesdropped on a bunch of girls talking. Their accent is so different from what I was used to back home. We always think of those with accents are Australians, British, and Irish. Certainly not Americans. Plus I'm used to one before - Sofiya. But I didn't realize I'm going to be surrounded by Pia multiply by...I don't know, millions!

I wanted to fit in so much the first weeks here. I guess like Zaim, I envy those who could master the American accent in a few months. I started to wonder if I can too. Not to mention our savior the first few days, Aishah, also has a beautiful accent. I want to have it desperately!

But I don't know why, especially after my trip back from NYC, I realized that the American accent is not the only accent. While walking up to Times Square I heard the English language spoken in countless accents especially Indian and Arabic. And they sounded marvelous. I mean, they sounded exotic therefore kind of cool. It was then that I decided that I'm keeping my Malaysian English accent. What I should strive for is to speak grammatically perfect English :)

I also remember Shakira, the "Whenever, Wherever" singer, once said in an interview that she too at first tried to get rid of her Colombian accent for an American one. But then she decided that she wanted to be kind of an 'ambassador' to the United States thus be proud of her accent. And people like it. People find her exotic.

I have no idea what these Americans think of this Asian - Malaysian - with her different accent. But like Shakira, I'm proud of it. I'm proud of being Malaysian. I don't want to change the way I sound for nothing :)

-C-

PA NJ CT NY

2009-10-12T01:23:00.007-04:00

Note: I forgot to mention that this trip was a VERY last minute thing. We had our Fall break but weren't sure of what to do during the 3 day weekend. On Thursday, in class, we just decided let's go meet Zaim. That night I called Zaim and made plans and Friday we went. In the car Diana called and decided to join us. It was reeeally last minute.

Alright. Last Friday we rented a car for our first trip in the US of A. In typical Syaza style, I will recall as much as I can of what happened. First of all I won’t describe the mess we were in to get the car but just that it was hard.

At first we wanted to leave Lailee (our black cat) at home. But when we got back from class on Friday, she was waiting at the door, as usual, being all manja, as usual. We didn’t have the heart to leave her for two nights alone. So we quickly find a shop to buy a carrier for her and before you know it, she’s on her way to Jersey too :D

We left at 4 and arrived at 11 PM. See, it was my first time ever driving in the United States. What more I have to keep on reminding myself “Stay right!” So I drove around the speed limit allowable on the highway. But, every time I looked at the GPS our arrival time increases and increases. So I decided if the Americans can go waaay over the limit, I can afford a mile or two above the speed limit. And so we arrived a few minutes earlier. It was a SEVEN hour journey…well you could have guessed that already. So my point is, ibu, papa, I can drive to Terengganu dah tau! :p

When we arrived at Zaim’s house, one of his seniors had went home already :( There were a few left and we were introduced to Aishah, Hanis, Mida, Atilia, Taufik, Zahid, and Najmi. They were nice especially so after we brought Lailee into the house. Zaim cooked Nasi Ayam for us and it was good, seriously. I never knew Zaim had talent in cooking. We were full and went to bed.

The next day around 9, we left the house (I left the girls’ house) towards Connecticut. The initial plan was to go to Yale first, then the Raya event but being me, I took a wrong junction into Bronx, and ended up arriving late in Connecticut so we decided on Yale later. The Raya event was…a sad thing for us, to say the least. We know no one there. The ‘VIP’ (JJ) was late. We were hungry. So. We left even before JJ got the chance to sit down. The best part: DIANA! Man I really miss seeing these Intians… After eating at the back room, we left for Yale. The interesting thing while at Yale is that when Zaim was taking picture of the dorm by putting his camera through the gate, a couple came up and swipe their student ID and actually ALLOWED us to go inside! It was wrong, of course, but they did, so we did! Hehe. After Yale, NEW YORK, NEW YORK!

We arrived at Central Park around 6…I think. It was already dark and we were on the wrong side of the park where ‘live’ was on the other side. So we just took a few dark snapshots and moved on to Times Square. Yeah, we decided to walk because I was lazy to find another parking spot. While walking we took pictures of the horses, taxis, and New York at night :) Times Square was just as how all of us imagined. Exactly like the many times we’ve seen it on TV. The thing that caught my attention was the SEA of people. THAT was interesting, with backgrounds of flashing neon billboards. After Times Square we decided to walk along the famous 5th Avenue. We went back to the car and I drove us all to Grand Central Station. We had our dinner there and took more pictures.

The next day we were supposed to go out early to catch the ferry to Ellis Island and Statue of Liberty. But me being me…dahla minyak habis, I was still not used to the GPS commands. And once we arrived at the pier, the line was sooo long that we decided not to go since Diana had to catch her bus at 12.30 and we, Rassyid and I, need to get back to Pittsburgh. So more picture taking there. Lucky for us, we spotted Wall Street and walked our way there. Around 11.15 we’ve done enough picture taking so on the way to Diana’s bus station location, we passed the Empire State Building where Zaim wanted to go to so much. Oh, and we passed Ground Zero too. We said bye to Diana and took the highway back to Jersey to get that noisy black cat. Zaim took us to a Turkey restaurant for lunch. Oh boy, do I miss a halal cheeseburger! Around 2 we started to head back to Pittsburgh. We arrived at 8 (notice the one hour less than the way to Jersey :p) and went for dinner. Around 9 we were back home and I’ve been editing pictures and uploading and blogging and is seriously tired. Guess I need to go to sleep now. I’m not Diana :)

-C-

Kak Nurul Kahwin

2009-10-09T15:39:00.002-04:00

Okay, so I'm really sad. I didn't get to see my cousin got married yesterday, on Friday. And then today is her reception. I'm really sad. But as they say, "who am I?" ...I know Kak Nurul's intention. She was really interested in getting married without an engagement so that it would be sooner and so that I'll still be in Malaysia. But we have to respect her husband's family's wishes to, no? So all that's left for me are pictures and videos...

Whatever it is, I hope Kak Nurul will have a happy and blessed married life :)

But then, I'm not that sad for I'm going on my first road trip (yes, driving baby!) today to see Zaim in New Jersey! So see you guys in a few days!

-C-

Black Dots

2009-10-03T20:44:00.006-04:00

White, as a bride's dress on
Her special day. White as the cloth
Keeping the dead bride
Warm in her grave; Color, the color of
Love is like a bird singing on the windowsill.
Singing only songs of bright
Sunshine. Successfully,
None as definable as a night
With only the Crescent Moon
Half smiling, half smirking. Playing
Along with lovers dancing,
At times reciting, mostly trusting,
In the park on a bench and
On the beach covered with ashes
Collecting
Dust; Journey uncountable not
The distance but certainly of
Pure importance. Hope is the color
Of white in a milk.
In a milk.
In a.
Milk.
To the newborn and the once born
For strength.

White. Is. Strength.

-C-

G20 Summit Simulation

2009-09-28T22:24:00.006-04:00

Alright this may seem like a 'shocker' to some Intians but Rassyid and I participated in a G20 Simulation today. I know, gedik kan? Dekat Inti tak nak masuk KLIMUN. It's not that we have anything against KLIMUN...well, actually I have one thing against it. That it was held during the holidays. Yup, I'm that kind of person. Holiday means holiday. Period. So anyway, this simulation is a very simplified version. Plus, the G20 itself is made up of 19 countries + the EU, and each country sends in 2 delegates (in this simulation) so there were not many people. It kind of put more pressure on each delegate to speak up.

We represented Turkey. At first we chose Saudi Arabia but supposedly there were already delegates assigned for the country. But then today, delegates for Saudi did not show up. And so did delegates for the United States. What an irony.

And I made a new friend there. Her name is Sarah. She's from Saudi.

:)

-C-

Continued

2009-09-26T23:14:00.008-04:00

Yesterday was a scary day for me, certainly. A new experience, perhaps, but scary, nonetheless.

We waited for our bus around 8 am as usual, despite the professor’s warning that buses might not run on schedule this week. We took the risk and the bus came on time. But what, or who, didn’t came on time was our classmates for the recitation class of Islamic Civilization. I was worried that the TA might have canceled the class and we did not check our emails because there was seriously nobody, even until 9! But slowly they started to appear and around 9.15, only 8 of us came to class. The first 10 minutes were spent talking about the day before: The first day of the G20. As mentioned, I went home after class at 12 pm on Thursday. If I had stayed, they said by afternoon student protestors were filling Cathedral’s lawn and police were threatening them with “If students are caught you will automatically be expelled!” I heard stories of students throwing trash cans towards police officers. And one of my classmates was chased by the police but he told them he was just returning to his dorm. Another classmate’s neighbor was detained, and he himself was stuck in the library till almost 2 am because of the protests.

Anyway, that’s not the scary part. After class ended, we did not want to go back so we decided to go to the Wal-mart at Waterworks, which is 40 minutes away from campus by bus. The bus came almost immediately so we thought there shall not be any problem. So we went to Wal-mart, bought some stuff for our house, went for lunch, and decided to catch the next bus home since Rassyid needed to catch the Jumaat prayer. Unfortunately, after waiting for almost 40 minutes the bus did not arrive. So we thought, let’s just do some more shopping rather than waiting. Around 2 pm, we waited again at the bus stop. 2.30, 2.45, 3.00, 3.15. We started to get frustrated and decided to just get on any bus that goes somewhere that we recognize. Not long after came this bus that’s supposedly going to Strip District, which we're familiar with. After about 10 minutes on the bus, the bus driver announced he’s not going through his usual route because downtown was closed and he’ll not be able to cross the river. He said the bus that we were waiting for would most probably arrive at 6 because most buses were stuck downtown. We were confused. And scared. And just blank. We did not recognize the road. We don’t know all these streets. And we’re on the wrong side of the river. Nearing the end of his route, police cars, and some on motorcycles, SUDDENLY came and blocked the road for the Tibet protestors to go through and our bus driver, who was obviously frustrated by the whole thing too, told us we would have to get out of the bus and walk to town. I was scared shit-less (sorry). Walk? Downtown? I’ve only been there once…at night! But I just pushed through the crowd and followed the flow. Nearing the bridge, we saw that it was closed. And to make things worse, there were no cars at all, only pedestrians and those on bike. And this is the center of Pittsburgh. It was like an apocalypse had just happened. And all around there were these police officers with dogs, sniffing around as if looking for bombs and whatnots. I was seriously afraid. But we continued following the rest, and then we saw more people. It turned out they closed most of the bridges but opened a few for pedestrians only.

I guess it was kind of interesting because if not for the circumstances, I don’t think we will walk on one of Pittsburgh's many bridges any time soon. But at that time I wasn’t thinking of that. I just wanted to be safe at home. In fact, I’m hitting my head on the wall right now because of my nervousness, I did not take pictures of the beautiful scenery and the Lawrence Convention Center where 20 world leaders were just meters away from me. Rassyid took videos though. Once we crossed the bridge successfully I was happy to find us on 7th Avenue. Our bus goes through 5th, so it’s not hard to find it from there. The place was like a ghost town. Just imagine KL, with no cars, nothing, but just people waiting for something to happen. Thankfully, we saw our bus on 5th. BUT. It’s not just our bus, but also ALL the other buses, in a line. I was thinking does this mean I have to walk home?! But apparently they closed the road heading to Pitt too, so it was both a blessing and a curse – I don’t have to walk, but there’s no way around it. We asked a bus driver nearby and she said just hop on the bus and wait for instructions from the police. We find 71A, hopped on, and breathed a sigh of relief.

We arrived home around 5pm.

Wrong calculation of time. Right time to be spontaneous.

-C-

p/s: I'm seriously rethinking my stand on street protests after seeing the trouble it causes to other non-political-affiliated people. It's just not worth it.

More Pictures

2009-09-24T19:56:00.005-04:00

If you can't read the banner it says "Independence for Tibet"

Macam Hindraf nye color kan? :p

See how many police officers are around campus. There are obviously more. With police cars, and helicopters hovering above... Btw that's me in the reflection :P

Just some pictures inside the Cathedral. We have no idea what it's for. But there are American and Russian flags. That's why we need to get out of class by 12 pm.

Sorry for the low quality pictures. Of all the days that I could have leave my camera at home..

Today was an unproductive day. Pinar cancelled the quiz for Islamic Civilization. American Literary class ended early. No Politics class. They might as well cancel class for the whole day... =D

-C-

Meow in Jersey

2009-09-23T19:24:00.005-04:00

Wee! Tomorrow my day will end in the afternoon! On Thursday I usually have a Politics class at 4 pm, but tomorrow, since it's the first day of the G20 Summit, classes starting from 4 will be canceled because they're afraid if there will not be enough buses to take students home and they're concern over the students' safety since there is a big probability that protests are going to be held, starting from tomorrow. The situation is kinda scary right now, with notices around campus reminding us to bring our ID at all times during this time. Plus police officers in a uniform of green t-shirts have been seen around campus with some on bicycles. Pitt shuttles are seen more on campus to help student get home, etc. In fact, for tomorrow, my Literature class will also end early for all classes held at the Cathedral of Learning MUST end by 12 pm. So yeah, just giving a an idea of how it is right now. The atmosphere is one of excitement, but the thought of going to the wrong place at the wrong time is just at the back of my mind.

Now just some pictures :D

Yes! Lailee is part of the PITT family too!

-C-

Raya

2009-09-21T17:45:00.007-04:00

Wow. I made it. 29 days of fasting, not just away from home, but also away in another country.

Wow. I made it. Sometimes we only ate bread, sometimes cereal, and then there were also days when we did not wake up at all for sahur. And I continued fasting as usual.

Wow. I made it. Most days I cooked. Other days he cooked. Once in a blue moon we ate out. There was no ayam percik or roti boom, but alhamdulillah, we were able to break fast nonetheless.

And yes, yesterday was Raya and it was a new experience. No big breakfast with rendang and lemang. No posing for pictures. No nothing. Just a simple morning breakfast of french toast with a bit of rendang. Then went for the Solat Raya at Schenley Park (Yes, it's at a park). After that we were treated to real rendang by Salim and Kak Yati who were graceful to entertain us at their house.

Simple, yet that's what Raya's all about. Celebrating a month of fasting and of being grateful for all that I have :)

On another note...I have a new baby! Well, okay, WE have a new baby! Her name is Lailee, which means "My Night" in Arabic. Look at her color and you'll understand why.

That's my baby! She's only been with us for three days but I know her so well already! She's very manja. She can' be left alone. Wherever we are, there she'll be. Most of the time she's quiet except at night. She's a very clever girl. We only need to show her litter box once and she knows where to find it. I love her :D

-C-

PITT

2009-09-14T18:20:00.001-04:00

-C-

p/s: Kepada ibu and papa, sila beli Utusan tiap2 hari mulai besok. Sekian. :p

Straight Through Your Heart

2009-09-13T23:15:00.001-04:00

Oh my God, I so did not know that the Backstreet Boys are coming out with a sixth studio album! I did not even know they had a single out LAST MONTH! *Hitting head at wall* Some kind of fan I am. Guess where I find out? Of all places, NEW YORK TIMES. The newspaper that I subscribed to supposedly to read on world on political news, I found out about BSB. Man, start touring the US soon!

-C-

p/s: Pardon the 15 year old in me babbling.

Shoot

2009-09-12T22:02:00.007-04:00

We had an interesting day today. Had the luxury to wake up late as it was a Saturday but not too late because we have like tons more reading to do. So anyway, around 12pm we took the bus to Forbes, more specifically to Salim's house. All of us were supposed to gather there and leave together to Mt Washington for our photo shoot of the day. What photo shoot? RAYA! So yeah, it was a relief when Shazwan told us Salim offered a place in his car. Imagine us wearing our baju kurungs and baju melayus in the bus! Well, Rassyid and I did exactly that from our house. :P Anyway, once all have arrived at Salim's house on Forbes, we drove off to Mt Washington, about 20 minutes from Shadyside.

When we arrived, I understand why Shazwan chose that location as it has the most beautiful view of Pittsburgh. Almost all the Budaya geng were there and we took pictures! Lots and lots of pictures :)

After that Salim sent us home but since we're already in the mood of 'jalan2', we changed our clothes and walked our way to the East Side. We just wanted to browse around a pet shop there.... But we were disappointed to find out that they're sold out of cats! :( Still in our semangat spirit of jalan2, we took the bus to Murray Ave to another pet store. And again, we were disappointed this time that we just missed it for like, 45 minutes since it's been close. Looking at the schedule thinking we have some time to kill, we walk around Squirrel Hill where the many Asian restaurants are located. Dugaan... When we were finally tired, we decided to just wait at the Bus Stop nearby.

While waiting....guess who we meet? CLAIRE! I know Claire's in Pittsburgh, obviously, and we did semi-plan to meet up one day. But of all the time and places, we met in Squirrel Hill. I was talking to Rassyid when an Asian girl stopped and turned, and asked, "Is that you Syaza?" My God Claire looks different. She looked pretty :) So we talked awhile and not long after our bus arrived.

But we did not get the chance to relax as we have to get out again after we've done our Asr prayers! Where to next? William Pitt Union, where the Muslim Society Association was holding an Iftar, especially to promote Ramadhan to Non-Muslims. It was nice to meet all the other Muslims in the Pitt community and learn of the different culture practised during Ramadhan in their homecountry. And Rassyid was happy to get a free copy of an English translation of the Holy Book.

It was funny that we being the firsts to leave, were the last to get a ride home. We were as usual, waiting for our bus of 71A in front of Union but since it's Saturday night, the bus is less reliable (which we found out later by Kak Yati). While waiting, there's this man sitting next to us and he turned his radio's volume wayyy up and it was fun when he started dancing to Thriller. He wanted all of us to join him but it was too cold... All those American spontaneity that I saw in movies are real!

Anyway, after waiting for almost 40 minutes, Kak Yati and Salim came to our rescue and offered to take us home - just when our bus arrived! But of course we'd rather them send us by car. So here I am, tired, but nonetheless happy with the day :)

-C-

p/s: For more pictures, go to my flickr... :)

G20

2009-09-12T21:59:00.004-04:00

I know I made the right choice by choosing Pittsburgh. Yeah, White House won't be like five blocks away compared to the other university on our list. But it's still a good place for political science students this year since the G20 Summit will be held in a few weeks time right here in Pittsburgh. I may have sign up for 'activities' that I can't disclose here...and I'm exxccitedd!

-C-

Worth vs Cost

2009-09-08T20:45:00.002-04:00

I can't even describe the feeling of eating Malaysian food (though at a higher price and not-so-sedap) after three weeks being here. Especially during Ramadhan. It was heaven on earth, no kid.

-C-

Why Men Don't Listen and Women Can't Read Maps

2009-09-04T19:32:00.002-04:00

Before I left, as a present, my two dear best friends gave me the book pictured above. They wrote nice messages in it, by the way. (I promise Dil...insyAllah ='))

Anyway, before I have to do like MASSIVE reading this weekend, I decided to finish this one today, and I did.

I really love the book and suggest EVERYONE to read it.

I know they gave it to me since I just got married but seriously, it's not just for those in long-term relationships. It's just for us to understand each other better, generally.

I honestly think that this book could help relationships that invovle both genders such as mother-son, father-daughter, friends, classmates, etc.

Just give it a try :)

-C-

Introduction to Islamic Civilization

2009-09-04T19:13:00.007-04:00

So today was the first day of the Introduction to Islamic Civilization's recitation class. Basically the recitation class splits the 200 or so student from the lecture to smaller groups of about 20 people. This is so that students can ask the teacher assistant more detailed questions without wasting too much time of the lecture.

The class started today with an introduction of each of us. I was amazed at how many of them wanting to take the subject because they're interested and not just to fulfill a requirement. Of course some do, but not most. A lot of them had questions regarding the comparison of the three Abrahimic religion, which is understandable since they're familiar with the other two, and not Islam. I was more than willing to give my input in this class.

I think, I answered the best I could to both questions raised which are:

"If at first Christians and Jews seem to support Muslims, where did the later animosity comes from?"

"Why do religions that claim to call upon peace go on and conquer places by means of violence?"

Even though I have a slight idea of the answers, I did not answer right away but waited to see what the others have to say on both subjects. As Rassyid said during the introduction, we're in this class because we want to get the western perspective on Islam. And I think I'm satisfied with what I got today.

Ms Titas, who is doing her PhD in History at Pitt, does not seem to have much knowledge on the basic of Islam, which I don't blame as she admitted that the first minute in. So, as a Muslim myself, I felt that I have to say something not to 'protect' Islam necessarily, but because I believe in what I say as the truth. Even though Rassyid said I was kind of too firm when answering, I did not mind. As we know, Islam is not something to be taken lightly. It is a very serious religion so I think I did good. I so want to be a good representative of Islam here. I really hope this class will help me.

-C-

Classes

2009-08-31T23:07:00.002-04:00

CONFIRMED. I'm taking these classes:

1. Seminar in Composition (Yucks, I know, even after two ENLs...)

2. Comparative Politics (Niceee)

3. American Literary Tradition (Sounds like Elly)

4. Introduction to Islamic Civilization (Redundant of form five's Sirah, Pendidikan Agama Islam)

I love my advisor. Mr. Patrick Mullen. Soft spoken, sweet, helpful and a gentleman :) He helped me get ALL my credits transferred and even talk about Skype while walking me out of his office. Love him.

-C-

Bees

2009-08-31T23:03:00.003-04:00

"Life is like a swamp of bees. You should not be afraid. But don't be an idiot too. That's why you wear long sleeves. And don't swat. Don't even think of swatting. Most importantly give love. Everybody likes a bit of love." ...or something like that :p That's something I learned from watching The Secret Life of Bees. Been repeating those words to myself these days.

-C-

A Message

2009-08-31T23:01:00.001-04:00

MARRIAGE IS NOT SOMETHING TO BE ENTERED INTO LIGHTLY...

...BUT WITH THE PROFOUND NOTION THAT...

...YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHAT YOU'RE GETTING INTO.

(Just something I read on the bus :) www.TWOgether.org)

-C-

chesza

1st 23

Sphere on shoulder

Drowning in Sweats of Love

My Paradise

Faith in faith

Fool me twice

Once Upon A TIME...

Assumption of a rejection

Proverb gone right

Can hair equal heart?

The doom of light

The Rainbow Association: our version.

Queen

Rolling in mudd of gold

A game of catch-up

Shine Bright

A pillow and a soft place

Twos :)

Misconception of a Beauty

Friends...

In less than 140 characters…

White lies, white secrets.

Water In The Sand

When a snake with two toungues disguises as a blue bird

Mine

Where've I been?

Help in the Holy Month

My Ramadhan Wish

Don't think again when you know what you saw.

Ways to bring honor - the hard way

Liberals, nothing more than those passionate in liberating others.

Peace, an unrealistic term, used realistically

Nur Kasih

Tech

A Walk Alone

Mother's Day 2010

Values

Freedom?

Letter to Him

High School Stories

Civil War on Rights

My Inspiration

Finally!

PCD

Khan

10 days past 21

Just a me-booster

Behavior: Napping Can Prime the Brain for Learning

Something I found today :)

Another Again

February 16, 2010 - Pittsburgh, USA

Lailee's Fifth

Stupid Joke

Crisis Simulation

Greens

Jan 31st, 2010

And they wonder why we hate them?

Words...they are NOT just words.

Let's play a game...

Troubling toil

Them, seriously?

His 21st!

Have A Little Faith

Winter Break

*dancing in the skies*

Meow

Guess Who

And...

Finally!

Come all!

Lucky me

Thanksgiving

After nasi lemak, next...

Long Weekend, no recitation.

Hillman Library

linkglobal.org

Story of the past

Parties

Fall

dancing in the skies