I'm a Professional Mum, and a grateful one too!

Anaqi is 5 months old now. Who is he? He's my 3rd bundle of joy, whom decided to join this world on 25th August 2010. That would explain my silence...well that's not entirely true, as Facebook is the main reason I have 'abandoned' this blog. It's a lot easier and faster way to 'vent', I must say.

And with Anaqi being 5 months old, I am an official professional mum, now that my 6 month probation period is over. And the real reality will hit soon enough when my Indonesian maid is gone in a couple of weeks time....sigh, so not looking fwd to the house chores.

My dearest friend, Jue (who is a full time mother since as long as I can remember) encouraged but not with little warning of how tough a stay-at-home life could be. Dang..was she right! I have been wanting to write about my new experience by categorizing them in UPs & DOWNs of a SAHM life, but there are mixed feelings in everything (only differs in degree), so I'll try a new way of summarizing the experience:

...of staying home (almost) 24-7
UPs: I love the fact that I don't need to rush getting ready for work. Though I still need to get up early to fix breakfast for hubby & the kids, the motivation makes a lot of difference. Thought I'd be a sinetron-cum-FB addicted couch potato, but I hardly turn on the TV or the PC during daytime. After sending off hubby & the kids at the gate (Thankful for hubby's volunteering to ferry them to school), my schedule/chores revolves around Anaqi's clock. The only time I get to catch up on emails/FB is when he's napping. I definitely don't miss KL traffic and its moronic Q jumpers. Or gossipy,bitchy or insecured colleagues. Ahhhh....baiti jannati...
DOWNs: I do get lonely, missing face to face (and at times in your face) adult conversation but I think I can live without that for years to come. Am grateful to FB, since I still feel somehow connected to the world, yet safe since I can just unplug anytime I feel I wanna be alone (which is ost of the time).
INTERESTING: I used to look down on moms who sit in the car waiting for their kids at the school gate. I used to tell myself "what a lousy way to kill time! Why not just get the kids to use the school bus and use that time for better things!". I pick up the kids from school everyday at 4pm, and really looking forward to it. The 20 min ride to home is rather pleasant, listening to my kids' (80% from my extrovert daughter, 20% from my introvert son) stories. This kinda of bonding, I have never experienced before and shall cherish it when I turn grey. We also get to perform maghrib together, Alhamdulillah. Which followed by a short tazkirah by me or hubby, reciting of Quran & doing revision together. Things I never had the time nor the energy doing when I had a career.

...of not earning a steady income
UPs: hmmmm.... this is a hard one. Okay, got it! I see money in a new perspective now. Having earned my own money since as long as I can remember (Been working as a babysitter since I was 6), and having tasted a monthly 5 figure income, you can imagine how big a change I must face now. Almost never needing to think twice about buying anything I WANT, now I have to think twice to buy even the things I NEED, and 10x of anything I WANT. I stop buying shoes unless absolutely necessary (i.e torn apart). Alhamdulillah, the experience made me more vigilant and feel much less arrogance.
DOWNs: In the first month it was tough for both my hubby and I. His jaw dropped when he paid for groceries, my ears hurt, and my heart wounded when he talks about how much money we spend on food & bills. But now he's getting the hang of it, and me too.
INTERESTING: The kids were on top of my worry list when I decided to stay home hence cutting more than 50% of our household income, but they seem to cope faster than us adults. They are okay with eating at McD or KFC or Pizza Hut only once a month (only 1 choice too). They are content with having just fish balls for dinner. They are also content with not going to the mall on monthly basis. Heck, they haven't got a single new toy or book since I quit last 7 months and I have not heard even a sigh when I politely declined their plea with 'sorry honey, ummi has no money' ! Praise to Allah swt for granting me with such wonderful kids.

...of not having a worldly title except for 'Mum'
UPs: Having to let go other titles except for wife,mother,daughter,sister to my family makes a big difference in my life. I no longer feel thin stretched, being pulled into so many directions at a time, no heavy burden on my shoulders anymore, no more using my hubby & kids as punching bag when things get crazy at the office, and best of all...NO GUILT! Peace & tranquility, words I only heard before but now am embracing them.
DOWNs: People do look down on me but I couldn't care less, except for when one of them is my own mother. It's hard for me to pin point to the exact reason of why this decision bothers her a great deal, and frankly I don't think I would like the answer. I would only pray that soon she will see the reason I am doing all these and appreciate and enjoy it as much as I do.
INTERESTING: Those who know me at work, would agree as to how fiercely competitive person I am. Once I was regarded as the lady with the tenacity of a bull dog (I took it as a compliment at the time). I do miss the sense of accomplishment (of getting a design or project done) but I don't feel like a complete failure either.

At this point in time, I can safely conclude that 24 hours in a day have never feel quite the same to me. Will this be a permanent thing of just a career break until Anaqi is big enough to go to a day care? Only Allah knows, but i will just try my very best and enjoy the ride while it lasts.

Unplugging the Zombies: fighting the Dajjal forerunners' weapons in my own home

I remember clearly those days when I used to mock whenever people suggest to 'doa' to solve a problem. How ignorant was I, for regarding doa as an excuse for not doing anything, for not trying hard enough, for not being independent and intelligent. Astaghfirullahalazeem...

But the real truth is, only Allah can change a heart. The heart is the sanctuary of Allah swt, the sacred place of the heart belongs to Allah and Him alone. Today, I had the reminder of this hard truth first hand.

It's end of 2010, meaning the kids are outta school. I can't recall being bored during my school holidays, even though dad hardly bring us to any vacation, nor did I have any highly attractive-time killing electronic gadgets kids these days have, no PC, no internet, heck we didn't even have phones and there were only 3 channels on tv. I kinda feel sorry for kids these days who are clueless as to what to do with their time, if all those fancy electronics (TV, DVD, PS, Wii, FB,Habbo,Mobilephone) are taken away from them. It's as if, their brain is mushed, can't think of anything, or come up with something to kill their boredom. They are zombies when unplugged.

It kinda creeps me up to watch how my kids spend endless hours infront of the TV or PC. If the radiation isn't enough to cause brain tumor (nauzubillah), I am pretty sure the inactivity/passive interaction will cause them something...either certain neurons of the brains are being killed slowly i.e creativity, critical thinking, analysis ability or their self-reliance i.e proactiveness, time management & responsibility will slowly diminishes. And when I connect the dots and think of whom are behind all these cleverly designed to be highly addictive gadgets, I shiver even more. What a clever way indeed to keep the ummah passive, lazy & blindly obedient to dunya.

I thought that the best way to deal with generation X & Z, is to just give it to them straight. I have shared rather openly to both of my kids (since my 3rd is only 3 mths old) about how shaytan works, how deceiving the Dajjal is and about the impending kiyamah. I also tried to teach my kids about the noble ways of our prophet SAW, of his adaab & manners. And since I have quit my full time job, I thought that it would be easy to catch my kids' hearts & minds, and keep them from becoming one of those zombies...oh! how naive was I to think I could overcome Dajjal's plan without any help & grace from Allah swt.

During school holidays, midnight is declared to be the unplugging or shut down time. That is when the kids are supposed to shutdown whatever gadgets they were devoting their lives to and get ready for beds. I have been very strict about this, and no amount of 'puhleeezzeee, ummi!' will thaw my icey determination. "Your eyes & brains need to rest. Shut down and go to bed. NOW." is the only answer they'll ever get from me. But tonight I lost my battle. As soon as the lights went off at midnight, I went to bed. But something woke me up at around 1.30am. I felt the urge to check up on my son. Sure enough he was infront of his laptop, playing the online game I hate the most; HABBO. Only Allah knows how enraged I was. I felt so betrayed. How stupid could he think I am. Am I not his mother which he needs to obey and respect? Wasn't the 10 hours during the day enough to indulge in the games? How hard is it to hold the urge and wait till morning when I allow them the time to play?

Reminding myself to keep cool and not to blew my head off, without a word or even looked at him I removed the laptop from him, switched off the light & closed the door behind me. I shivered in my bed, when I realized how alone, weak & fragile I am in this fight against Dajjal's weapons. If I was still working fulltime, I'd be blaming myself for not giving him enough attention & time. But I am home 24-7. He is constantly under my supervision, yet he dared to disobey me behind my back, right under my nose! Man, my ego was hurt. And I cried. I felt so helpless and scared. I thought I have done enough. I thought I had it all figured out. I thought I was smart. But Dajjal is far smarter. I felt like a failure.

At time like this, no amount of console or cheer-up words from my FB friends would do any good. I began to think off all sorts of punishment I wanted to give him the next morning, just to show him who is the boss in this house. But then it hit me, I can do whatever I want, but I can't control his heart. Maybe by grounding him for 2 weeks will hurt him the same as he hurt me, but hurting his feeling as a retaliation of what he's done would be sellfish & won't solve the problem in the long run. I must not look at the tree, but focus on the forest. I quietly pray for His help, for the hearts belong to Him and only He can inspire the heart to change for good.

It's 2:00am, and I felt the urge to go the the toilet. My toilet has a window which faces my son's room. Through this window (I didn't switch on the light) I saw that my son (whom I thought was sleeping after I took his laptop away half hour ago), got up and went to his bathroom. I caught him performing the wudu' and later went to his room and performed solat. Again I cried, alone in the dark but this time for a different reason. Allah was indeed listening and understood my situation clearly. He inspired my son and softened his heart to turn to Him. And Allah has also gave me the opportunity to 'watch' my son silently. I could feel that Allah is trying to teach me something. That is wasn't that bad after all. That if no one appreciates my sacrifice & effort to raise my kids, He does. And I feel that He was trying to tell me that turning to Him and Him alone could change a situation. And that what I did was right...asking for His help with great humility, and not complaining to fellow humans (as I often do on FB especially). And last but definitely not least; I should me more concern if my son doesn't please Allah swt, his creator and not too overly concern if he doesn't please me, his mother.

'Invoke your Lord with humility and in secret.' (Qur’an 7: 55)

The lesson that I learned today is to stop going to people for help or for intercession, and instead, began praying to Allah especially in the last third of the night. Now I know that whenever I am down or in need of any help, I would call to Allah and invoke Him for relief. Which reminds me of this hadith:

Abu al-‘Abbas ‘Abdullah bin ‘Abbas, radiyallahu anhuma, reported: One day I was behind the Prophet, sallallahu ‘alayhi wasallam, and he said to me:

"O young man, I shall teach you some words [of advice] : Be mindful of Allah, and Allah will protect you. Be mindful of Allah, and you will find Him in front of you. If you (have need to) ask, ask of Allah; and if you seek help, seek help from Allah. Know that even if the Nation (or the whole community) were to gather together to benefit you with something, they would not benefit you with anything except that which Allah has already recorded for you, and that if they gather together to harm you with something, they would not be able to harm you with anything except that which Allah has already recorded against you. The pens have been lifted and the pages have dried."

[Al-Tirmidhi relates this and says: It is a good, genuine Hadith]

In a version other than that of al-Tirmidhi it reads:

"..Be mindful of Allah, you will find Him before you. Get to know Allah in prosperity and He will know you in adversity. Know that what has passed you by was not going to befall you; and that what has befallen you was not going to pass you by. And know that victory comes with patience, relief with affliction, and ease with hardship."

Wallahualam. Jazakallahukhayran for reading.

A Blessed Soul

Despite reading quite a number of unsettling views/rumours/opinions about Syeikh Hamza Yusuf, deserved or not, true or not Wallahu'Alam, I am still intrigued by this soul. Listening to his khutbah, lectures, reminders somehow managed to hit a certain button in my soul.

I stumbled upon this unofficial website dedicated to him by a fan http://sheikhhamza.com and learned about his spiritual journey. In his early years as a muslim, he often had a dream about Murabbit Al-Hajj and he travelled the foreign land to seek him for guidance. He managed to find this blessed soul and this is the story of his encounter:

After two grueling days, we arrived in a beautiful town known as Geru, which at the time had no technology, and the buildings there were all a lovely adobe. Hundreds of students studied at seven madrassas, called mahdharain Geru. At night, with the exception of a few flashlights, candles, and kerosene lamps, all was dark so the Sahara night sky could be seen in all its stellar glory. The entire town was filled with the soothing sounds of the recitation of Qur’an and other texts.

We stayed with Shaykh Khatri, the brother of Murabit al-Hajj’s wife, Maryam, and a cousin of Murabit al-Hajj. While in Geru, I came to know a great saint and scholar, Sidi Minnu, who was already an old man at the time. He memorized all of the Hisn al-Hasin of Imam al-Jazari and recited it every day. His other time was spent in praying for the entire Ummah. Once, we were sitting on the sand and he picked some up with his hand and said to me, “Never be far away from the earth, for this is our mother.” He then said something that struck me to the core: “I have never regretted anything in my entire life, nor have I ever wished for anything that I did not or could not have, but right now I wish that I was a young man so that I could accompany you on this great journey of yours to seek knowledge for the sake of God.”

After a few days, we set out for Kamur, which we had passed on our way to Geru, and then took camels and set out for Murabit al-Hajj; by nightfall we arrived in Galaga, a valley with a large lake that rises and lowers with the rainfall and the seasons. After breakfast the next morning, we set out for the upper region some miles from where Murabit al-Hajj’s clan was encamped.

As we came into Tuwamirat, I was completely overwhelmed by its ethereal quality. It was the quintessential place that time forgot. The entire scene reminded me of something out of the Old Testament. Many of the people had never seen a white person before and the younger people had only heard about the French occupation, but never seen French people or other foreigners for that matter. I entered the tent of Murabit al-Hajj.

My eyes fell upon the most noble and majestic person I have ever seen in my life. He called me over, put his hand on my shoulder, welcomed me warmly, and then asked me, “Is it like the dream?” I burst into a flood of tears. I had indeed experienced a dream with him that was very similar to our actual meeting.[32]

Murabit al-Hajj

It was 1985, and the most life-changing part of Shaykh Hamza’s life would occur over the next 3 years. He sat at the school of Murabit al-Hajj and studied not only the sacred sciences, but also the traditional bedu way of life.

“Murabit al-Hajj’s birth name is Sidi Muhammad ould Fahfu al-Massumi, and he was nicknamed Hajj Umar by his mother after the great scholar and warrior, “Umar Tal of Senegal”.

During the blessed time that I was fortunate to have lived with him in his own tent, I observed his daily routine: He would usually awake at about 2:30 or 3:00 in the morning and begin the Tahajjud or night prayers. He would often recite for a few hours, and I heard him repeat verses over and over again and weep. Just before dawn, he would sit outside his tent and recite Qur’an, and then when the first light of dawn was discernible, he would walk to the open-air mosque and call the adhan. He would then pray his nafilah and wait for a short period and then call the iqamah. During that time, I never saw anyone else lead the prayer, and he would almost always recite from the last 60^th of the Qur’an as is the Sunnah for a congressional Imam to do so according to Imam Malik.

After the sun rose and reached the level of a spear above the horizon, he would pray the sunrise rak’ahs and then return to his tent where he would have some milk brought fresh from a cow. He would then teach until about 11:00 in the morning and nap for a short while. After that, students would start coming again, and he would continue to teach until about 1:00pm at which time he would measure his shadow for the time of the midday prayer. He would then call the adhan at the time his shadow reached an arm’s length past the post meridian time as is the Maliki position on the midday prayer, if performed in congregation, to allow for others to come from their work after the heat dissipates. He would always pray four rakahs before and after the midday prayer and then return to his tent where he would teach until afternoon. He would usually have a small amount of rice and yogurt drink that is common in West Africa. Then, he would measure his shadow for the afternoon prayer, and when he ascertained its time, he would proceed to the mosque and call the adhan.

After Asr, Murabit al-Hajj would return to his tent and usually resume teaching and sometimes listen to students recite their Qur’an lessons from memory and he would correct their mistakes. During any lulls in his teaching, anyone in his presence could hear him say with almost every breath, “La ilaha illa Allah,” or he would recite Qur’an. At sunset, he would go and call the adhan, pray Maghrib, and then sit in the mihrab and recite his wird until the time of the night prayer. He would call the adhan, lead the pray and return to his tent. He would usually have some milk and a little couscous and then listen to students recite Qur’an or read Qur’an by himself. At around 9:00 pm he would admonish himself with lines of poetry from Imam Shafi’s Diwan and other well-known poets. He would often remember death with certain lines that he repeated over and over again, especially the following that I heard from him many times:

O my Lord, when that which there is repelling alights upon me,

And I find myself leaving this adobe

And become Your guest in a dark and lonely place,

Then make the host’s meal for his guest the removal of my wrongs.

A guest is always honored at the hands of a generous host,

And You are the Generous, the Creator, the Originiator.

Surely kings, as a way of displaying their magnanimity

Free their servants who have grown old in their service.

And I have grown old in Your service,

So free my soul from the Fire

He often repeats these lines for what seems like an eternity, his voice penetrating the hearts of all those within earshot. He once admonished me with lines of poetry, one after another, until I wanted the earth to swallow me. He said to me, “And what is man other than a comet that flashes brilliant light for a moment only to be reduced to ashes.”

He told me several times, “Hamza, this world is an ocean, and those who drown in it are untold numbers. Don’t drown.”

I have never seen anyone like him before him or after him, and I don’t think that I ever will. May Allah reward him for his service to this din and his love and concern for the Muslims. He was never known to speak ill of anyone. Once when a student was studying Khalil with him and asked what a certain word meant in the text, he explained to him that it was a slow and clumsy horse. The student then said, “like so-and-so’s horse?” At this Murabit al-Hajj suddenly became upset and said, “I don’t spend much time with people because they backbite, so if you want to study with me, you must never speak ill of anyone in my presence.” It is not well known by Muslims that to speak ill of someone’s animals falls under the ruling of backbiting.

Shaykh Murabit al-Hajj is a master of the sciences of Islam, but perhaps more wondrous than that, he has mastered his own soul. His discipline is almost angelic, and his presence is so majestic and ethereal that the one in it experiences a palpable stillness in the soul. As the Arabs says, “the one who hears is not as the one who has seen.” I was told by many people from his family that had I seen him in his youth, I would have been even more astonished at his devotional practices.

He is recognized in Mauritania as being one of the last great scholars, and his fatwa is highly respected among the people of West Africa who know of him, and they are many.”

- For those critics of Syeikh Hamza, I guess we can only qualify to criticize him IF, and ONLY IF we have had similar courage to leave the comfort our our homes, loved ones and wordly possession to seek the real meaning of ISLAM in the name of Allah swt. If we haven't, then I think we should just shut-up and learn a thing or two about his experience.

The temporary world has lost a gem

I 'stumbled' upon this obituary (for the lack of a better word, stumble was used though I do not really believe in coincidence. I believe in maktub, qada' & qadar) . I am ashamed to call myself an avid reader but yet to have the honor to read this great mind's work.

I plan to order his books from Amazon, the only place I can get his work from and thanks to my dear friend KJ, I can have save hundreds on the shipping since she'll be spending her summer holiday here in Malaysia. When la this amazon can offer good shipping to this side of the world!

For the reason of my ignorance of this great man's work (I shall save a space in this blog to write about his books once I manage to get hold of one), I will just cut and paste the obituary by another fellow blogger.

From http://seekersguidance.org

Orbituary for Gai Eaton - Remembering the UK’s eloquent voice for Islam - Hisham Hellyer - The National

March 10th, 2010

Remembering the UK’s eloquent voice for Islam - The National Newspaper

In retrospect, it was a little bit peculiar to call his house after his passing. I was hoping to give my condolences to his family – instead, I got a chance to hear his voice one last time. On his answering machine, he still came through as the distinguished gentleman I had always known him to be. With the passing of Charles Le Gai Eaton, also known as Hassan Abdul-Hakeem, the last of a particular generation of remarkable western Muslims left this world – and certainly, he was one of the more influential of them, as attested by the numerous condolence messages from across the spectrum of British society and Anglophones everywhere.

Raised as an agnostic, Eaton received his education at Charterhouse (a renowned school in England), before going to study at Cambridge University. After working for some time as a teacher and journalist in Jamaica and Egypt, he joined the British diplomatic service in 1949. In 1951, he became Muslim, which irrevocably changed his world view, enabling him to become one of the pre-eminent writers on Islam for a British audience in the contemporary age. He was deeply engaged with the challenges facing Britain’s Muslims, and later served them at the Islamic Cultural Centre at Regent’s Park in London with distinction for many years.

Many people in the UK have become Muslims since 1951 – but Eaton made a particular contribution to all English-speaking communities. As a young university student researching Islamic thought, I looked hard for contemporary authors in that area of study, even if they were not religious authorities themselves. Much of what was available at the time, particularly in the English language, was infused with political undertones, and aimed at an activist lifestyle. While the call to action through faith isn’t wrongheaded as such, it has its limitations. Eaton’s works, such as King and the Castle and Islam and the Destiny of Man, were completely different, aiming at reorientating the reader towards a God-centred life, rather than a life aimed at success in this world.

He was empowered by his deep attachment to living a faithful life in the contemporary world, combined with a profound suspicion of what modernity really had to offer in the advancement of the human being. He wrote as a Muslim, but those who read his works were from all faith backgrounds and none. He insisted that he was not a classically trained authority of the Islamic sciences, but he had a unique way with the English language that few writers on Islam could match. His admirers did not always share his philosophical perspectives, but few could deny his profound eloquence and high culture.

As a young student, I met Eaton at an academic conference, and took the opportunity to tell him how impressed and touched I had been by his books. He was so utterly humble – although I was much younger than him, he seemed incredibly embarrassed when I made the very suggestion that his works were of any worth. Recognising him as one of the last great spiritual writers of his generation, and a reminder of high culture, I kept in touch with him, although it was certainly a one-sided relationship. When I last visited him in his home in Surrey with a friend, he was the epitome of a gentleman – he should never have exerted himself, considering his advanced years, but he nevertheless treated us with the highest hospitality.

My companion was incredibly grateful just for the opportunity to encounter him in the flesh – and that was entirely appropriate. For all those who read him, he was a deeply spiritual author who reminded us how the English idiom ought to be used when speaking of the highest spiritual matters. He was keen to jog our memory as to the importance of correct language, refusing to be swept away by current trends to overuse words like “tolerance” and “terrorism”, both of which he felt were utterly abused and bereft of their proper meaning. In the aftermath of the July 7 bombings, he warned many against curtailing civil liberties in response, and cared little for the fact it was an unpopular position to take.

In his last days, I received a message from a friend who had tended to him in his old age. At that time, Eaton was stable, but appeared as though he was wholly resigned to what he knew was inevitable for every soul. He saw his last days not in despair, but in hope for the mercy of God, displaying for his family and friends an elegant resignation. The Prophet of Islam said: “Death is the only preacher you need” – and Eaton himself was a preacher in the way he lived and the way he died.

His death, as his life, was fortuitous. He died on a Friday, which is noted as a special day in Islam – but he also died on the birthday of the Prophet. Eaton was particularly drawn to the Sufi experience within Islam, and within that experience, the celebration of the birth of the Prophet, as the “mercy to the worlds”, is especially important. That he passed away on that day is not something he would regard as coincidence – for indeed, he loved the Prophet with his heart and soul.

The school Eaton attended in Surrey had a Latin motto: Deo Dante Dedi – “God having given [to me], I gave”. His life is a testament to that adage – he felt so grateful to God, he made it incumbent upon himself to give to others in the books he wrote and the service he provided. With his passing, it truly is an end of an era for Britain.

Charles Le Gai Hassan Abdul-Hakeem Eaton was born in Lausanne, Switzerland in 1921. He passed away in London, England on February 26, 2010.

HA Hellyer is the author of “Muslims of Europe”, a Fellow of the University of Warwick and the director of the Visionary Consultants Group

Shitty Day

Yesterday was one of those days that made me feel like I want to run to the highest peak and scream from the top of my lung. I was overwhelmed. Suddenly it was just too much to handle, and yet I didn't accomplished much. I felt like a complete failure.

Had a rough day at work, to the point that I felt hopeless. Went home through usual bad KL traffic in the rain. While stuck in the stupid traffic , I felt like I was in Natelie Imbruglia's music video Torn, ...

Nothing's fine, I'm torn! I'm all out of faith...this is how I fell...I'm cold and I am shamed, lying naked on the floor....there's just so many things that I can touch, I'm torn!

Got home, emotionally, physically drained. Somehow today the cheery faces of my kids welcoming at the gate didn't help much. Felt really bad for the kids, going home in a zombie mode like this. But I couldn't fake it anymore, couldn't put on a show anymore.

Then Amirul, my eldest was the last straw that broke it all. He happily announced he didn't turn in his homework because he forgot. I knew he is just ten, and he has always been a great boy but I was so upset that he made feel that I am the only one TRYING the be the best, while everybody else in my world, just play along and do whatever they like.

I broke down, cried and wailed. Though knowing the crying won't help solving anything, but it did me good..it kinda lick my wound.

Hubby went to talk to Amirul while I was in the shower. When I was done, Amirul came to me, with puffed, red eyes. He hugged me and said "I'm sorry, Ummi". I didn't rub it in cause there's simply no reason to. He has been a great boy, without any effort from my side. The one who claimed motherhood just from carrying him in my tummy for 9 months, but spent most of her time at work, trying to fix other problems which is not hers to begin with...and then come home drained, everyday expecting nothing but the best from him. Who the hell do I think I am? What right do I have to demand such perfection when I wasn't even there to guide him?!

I am so torn. On one hand I feel I have tried my best to be the best in all roles, and if only everybody else on this planet would put in the same effort, then maybe it'll be less problematic. But on the other, who ASKED me to be ALL THAT? DO I even know why I was put here on earth? Why so kay-poh and assume that I am the one?

If only I get a dollar everytime I hear people say this to me "You are too hard on yourself..."

Thank you Din, for the laughter

Part of my work-day routine since 2009 was to listen to 'Riuh Pagi Era with Aznil & Din Beramboi'. These 2 never fail to crack me up and somehow managed to make my morning traffic woes slightly bearable. Sometimes the jokes were a bit lame, but mostly there were rather original and genius. He was also one of the judges for Raja Lawak, a reality show which was the only show my entire family would watch together; from my parents, my brothers, to my maid & my kids. Else, it's Nickelodeon for the kids, RTM for my parents, Heroes for hubby and me and AXN for the brothers.

But today Din Beramboi have left us. After battling for his life for a few days, he succumbed and went flatline at 12.30am this morning. I am not too sure yet of the actual cause of death, some news reported it was leptospirosis, some say it was dengue.

Went to wiki to see what leptospirosis is and I found this...
"Leptospirosis is transmitted by the urine of an infected animal and is contagious as long as it is still moist. Although rats, mice and voles are important primary hosts, a wide range of other mammals including dogs, deer, rabbits, hedgehogs, cows, sheep, raccoons, possums, skunks, and certain marine mammals are able to carry and transmit the disease as secondary hosts. Dogs may lick the urine of an infected animal off the grass or soil, or drink from an infected puddle. There have been reports of "house dogs" contracting leptospirosis apparently from licking the urine of infected mice that entered the house.
Humans become infected through contact with water, food, or soil containing urine from these infected animals. This may happen by swallowing contaminated food or water, or through skin contact. The disease is not known to be spread from person to person and cases of bacterial dissemination in convalescence are extremely rare in humans.
The infection is often wrongly diagnosed due to the wide range of symptoms. This leads to a lower registered number of cases than actually exist. Symptoms of leptospirosis include high fever, severe headache, chills, muscle aches, and vomiting, and may include jaundice, red eyes, abdominal pain, diarrhea, and rash. The symptoms in humans appear after a 4–14 day incubation period."

I guess whatever the cause of death to Din's was, the point is life is too precious to be spent on trivial things. It is also too precious to be spent on making money and climbing up corporate ladder. Couldn't help but wonder, what if I was in Din's place? The thought alone send tremor throughout my body. The list of "I should've...." is so long, started with "I should've spent more quality time with my lovely kids".

To Din's family & close friends, your loss is definitely ours too. But Din's story reminds us of the inevitable; that we will all leave this temporary world eventually. The question is are we prepared to leave this world (meaning have we done enough for our loved ones) and are we prepared for the afterworld? I pray for myself and all of us will, insyaAllah.

My D.O.E

When I decided to ditch my over a decade career in engineering and ventured into Human Resources, I didn't exactly know what I want to ended up as. It was like playing back my 1980's memory of being asked that lame question of "What do you want to become when you grow up?" Ironically enough, I remember being confident with my answer...it was either Lawyer or Teacher. I really am envious with that confident 8 year old...what have happened to her since then? Why am I no longer have that humongous confidence to announce to the world of what I want to 'grow' up into?!

Through out my journey on seeking that 'ideal' job, I begin to realize that I am actually going through a huge experiment. Sadly though, I am the lab rat. I thought that the best way to derive a conclusion of this experiment is to use DoE which I have learned and applied during my tenure as a design engineer for Motorola. Design of Experiment (DoE) is a structured, organized method that is used to determine the relationship between the different factors (Xs) affecting a process and the output of that process (Y). This method was first developed in the 1920s and 1930, by Sir Ronald A. Fisher, the renowned mathematician and geneticist. While I can not guarantee the accuracy of the formula I have came up with, but it sure does eliminate the 'white noise'.

Let's say, the output (Y) that I seek for is 'happiness @ work'. From my experience of 13 years earning an income as a living, my Xs are:

F(happiness @ work) = f(boss; gender & race) + f(work nature) + f(environment/culture) + f (income)

1st stop; R&D Engineer @ Robert Bosch Penang
Formula = F(happiness @ work) = f(male European) + f(R&D, creative, always changing) + f(coorperative) + f(moderate $)
Output = okay

2nd stop; R&D Engineer @ Motorola Penang
Formula = F(happiness @ work) = f(male American) + f(R&D, creative, learning) + f(cooperative, respectful) + f(high $)
Output = Happy

3rd stop; HR Consultant @ Motorola Singapore
Formula = F(happiness @ work) = f(female chinese) + f(HR, administrative) + f(competitive) + f(high $)
Output = Miserable

4th stop; HR Senior Manager @ Mimos, M'sia
Formula = F(happiness @ work) = f(female Malay) + f(HR, administrative, strategic) + f(complacent) + f(high $)
Output = Miserable

5th stop; HR Consultant @ Consulting firm
Formula = F(happiness @ work) = f(male chinese) + f(HR, strategic) + f(competitive) + f(moderate $)
Output = unhappy

There you have it, the various findings at various stops so far. Using the following scale, I studied each X factor and determine whether or not they play a role as a determinant of my Y.
0= miserable (can't bear it)
1=unhappy (dragging my feet to work)
2=okay(not looking fwd to work, but don't drag my feet either)
3=happy (feel belong and add value)
4=Estatic! (looking fwd to work every day!)

1st X factor = Boss
1st stop --> (2)okay = f(male European)
2nd stop --> (3)happy = f(male American)
3rd stop --> (0)miserable = f(female Chinese)
4th stop --> (0)miserable = f(female Malay)
5th stop --> (1)unhappy = f(male Chinese)

Conclusion = x(boss) = gender does not play a role. Race seems to have an effect. I work well for non-Asian boss.

following the same deduction method, I reach the following conclusion
x(work nature)= I am happier in R&D than HR
x(environment/culture) = I am happier in cooperative environment than competitive or complacent
x(income)= money seem to have no impact to my fulfillment at work

Hence, in DOE terms, my finding can be concluded as below;

F(happiness @ work) = f(non Asian boss) + f(job which deals with things,not people) + f(cooperative culture)

There could be more X factors which I have not considered since I have not experienced them (i.e having no boss at all), but I'll improvise my formula as I go. But as of today, the above is good enough determinant should I decide to apply or accept a new job offer...or maybe try an entirely new experiment to have a career break!