tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-82776564189262557332024-03-05T15:51:23.225+08:00Time in a BottleWell, I hope this journal will be one that comes from the heart, on just about anything, everything and nothing.Rahman Haririhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04474408822740473103noreply@blogger.comBlogger515125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8277656418926255733.post-55552857692549172002018-07-29T21:22:00.000+08:002018-07-31T13:50:41.868+08:00Kid with Class<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I was having my Bakso Komplit, at one street corner of Jakarta, when she approached me at my table.<br />
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Looking at her unkempt self, I knew I have to buy whatever she was selling.<br />
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"Berapa?" I asked her. "Lima ribu," she replied. From her size, I thought she is no older than 7. But may be she is 9, who knows. In any case, she should not be out in the street at that hour of the night.<br />
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It won't cost me much, so I picked up a packet of Bika, and promptly gave her a 10k note (on purpose as I definitely have multiple notes of 5k in my wallet).<br />
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She said she did not have the change, and asked if I could give smaller note. I told her, the balance is hers.<br />
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You know what happened next; she put another packet of kue - a tepung talam look-alike, on my table. I tried my best to put it back, pleading with her that I am full, and that I could not eat them all.<br />
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And she quickly disappeared from the shop. I only managed to take this picture of her leaving.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYOoEQb9W7a4PnQNrCYPriQHGrW1k6MkX9eXenwEx5ENJfMsFOPeQDTeYL4R3kQZbvj_Ls8oZ2NknUtlxxlhmsMe6VfSQGIw8hLsWIqXzHKZdNmjfFENpstbnC4uQ4N6ng_SL3seB9vCE6/s1600/FB_IMG_1532870380966.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYOoEQb9W7a4PnQNrCYPriQHGrW1k6MkX9eXenwEx5ENJfMsFOPeQDTeYL4R3kQZbvj_Ls8oZ2NknUtlxxlhmsMe6VfSQGIw8hLsWIqXzHKZdNmjfFENpstbnC4uQ4N6ng_SL3seB9vCE6/s320/FB_IMG_1532870380966.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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Paying for my bakso, I told the cashier my story. She reiterated what I already knew. That little girl would never accept alms or charity, and would refuse your money, if you won't take her kue.<br />
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She has dignity, unlike many other able bodied men of Jakarta looking for alms that I have met. I hate to be interrupted, while having my dinner, by bad guitar-playing guys singing out of tune looking for hand-outs, but this little girl is in a class of her own.</div>
Rahman Haririhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04474408822740473103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8277656418926255733.post-19973734313232826902017-01-31T19:29:00.000+08:002017-01-31T19:30:14.479+08:00Makassar, here I come<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEyl1ANaPF4GdodIhcjH2Sj_uewWrwy7PlXE8RZDiG7ZlQKeswNZprysLYZQ8rKfkF31KrYqWkEkH5bPPDIAbQbaAdpzKdXnEXmLAFAGGvDY4b3uaqf2AMoNI1d8desrJxEaPKry6elYJQ/s1600/Bapak+Mappa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEyl1ANaPF4GdodIhcjH2Sj_uewWrwy7PlXE8RZDiG7ZlQKeswNZprysLYZQ8rKfkF31KrYqWkEkH5bPPDIAbQbaAdpzKdXnEXmLAFAGGvDY4b3uaqf2AMoNI1d8desrJxEaPKry6elYJQ/s320/Bapak+Mappa.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Less than five days to go, and counting.</div>
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I am in trepidation, but I am looking forward for a trip to Makassar to visit a former teacher of mine, who used to teach Sains Paduan and Fizik in high school in 1977-79. I have always been on the lookout for my three bapaks from high school and two of them passed away before I could meet up with them.</div>
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In Bapak Maryoso's case, just the with knowledge that he hailed from Pekalongan, my brother went to Education Dept in Pekalongan to se<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline; font-family: inherit;">ek info on bapak and by chance, the person there knew of a Bapak Maryoso who went to Malaysia to teach in the 70s. He returned to Jawa in 1977 and according to that person, he went back to Malaysia and apparently his family now lives in Selayang.</span></div>
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No, he had passed away.</div>
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Just like Bapak Muljadi, though in Bapak Muljadi's case, he was so near too as he was living in Seremban.</div>
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So after knowing Bapak Mappa's whereabouts, I am not taking any chance and immediately arranged a ziarah trip to visit Bapak. Fortunately, my buddies from KB76, Zul Maon, and Rozhan are willing to join me to visit as part of entourage to visit Bapak.</div>
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Bapak is now 86, and is apparently healthy.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEI1JEFZdKQe-D02c_dEOVmbYWSavQfeM6DMPhyphenhyphenNzAlGDOVX8FSpbHCRuOOFIxabTLY2iGShUc3zjhh824aRfW0C3oFh7k1Qj6QGIaTBpEMYsXwaoEvKbFfOAhWUSIF-u8mXnRj23IA8GR/s1600/tEACHERS-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="231" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEI1JEFZdKQe-D02c_dEOVmbYWSavQfeM6DMPhyphenhyphenNzAlGDOVX8FSpbHCRuOOFIxabTLY2iGShUc3zjhh824aRfW0C3oFh7k1Qj6QGIaTBpEMYsXwaoEvKbFfOAhWUSIF-u8mXnRj23IA8GR/s320/tEACHERS-2.jpg" width="320" /></a>Bapak is part of the 3 science teachers who taught and prepared us for integrated science for the SRP exams and we did so well then. Part of the credit for science has to be given to Bapak (with Cikgu Ghazali and Shaari), if I remember correctly. They probably work harder than us for SRP 78 with daily tests, and quizzes.</div>
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He went on to teach us Physics for F4.</div>
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What makes this trip more interesting and more 'meriah' is that Cikgu Dr Fatanah will be joining us too. We have the KNAP story to tell Bapak, and I am sure from teachers' perspectives, there are many stories to be told.</div>
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Sunday 5 February. Makassar, and Bapak Mappa, here we come.</div>
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Rahman Haririhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04474408822740473103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8277656418926255733.post-64014153941735512722015-11-21T18:08:00.000+08:002016-02-19T14:40:28.316+08:00Haj 2015 - My Last Haj?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjusXcdm09U3Iz3xgkfq9g7WyKfVeCq3c92Wh23-tO_eAXE6je3R5p6YfeD8kmX4taN9SC-3jbqgftYa97DXwN6r3ikivwkSeNivgn0-ydE9qxV_CWcxhG9Uyqpx2wujIfwmOSlPRDyi_TZ/s1600/20150929_093037.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjusXcdm09U3Iz3xgkfq9g7WyKfVeCq3c92Wh23-tO_eAXE6je3R5p6YfeD8kmX4taN9SC-3jbqgftYa97DXwN6r3ikivwkSeNivgn0-ydE9qxV_CWcxhG9Uyqpx2wujIfwmOSlPRDyi_TZ/s400/20150929_093037.jpg" width="225" /></a></div>
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I was apprehensive before I started the journey, but once we got started, I think we never looked back.</div>
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We had our share of predicaments - especially in the beginning, but in the end, I thought it was a moving journey. That's how I would remember my haj.</div>
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I was never into it - all these years; too young, too busy, too many people etc, and hence I never offered to chaperon Mak. Even much later, I was nonchalant about it. Without my uncle and auntie pushing me to join them for haj, I would not have made it.</div>
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I am not proud to admit.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj89PdJkGHLJzwjwH6yxO21U6e4zVM-E5TIhQFLtkNfSt0jrrVOyuhotJjtW-FJHphRUmnZ41FpdXMYPak5_zOBPQ8aymylgEanmarIihMQAxY4j9Hdfnlmf6ID01sycQYz0VmU95081oie/s1600/20151005_220806.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj89PdJkGHLJzwjwH6yxO21U6e4zVM-E5TIhQFLtkNfSt0jrrVOyuhotJjtW-FJHphRUmnZ41FpdXMYPak5_zOBPQ8aymylgEanmarIihMQAxY4j9Hdfnlmf6ID01sycQYz0VmU95081oie/s400/20151005_220806.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Two Haji and Hajah were all smiles and looking forward to return home after performing the haj</td></tr>
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I was considering of canceling my journey due to the piles I was having. Should I have done that, I am sure it would take me a few more years to plan another journey.</div>
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After all the dusts have settled, and despite my criticisms of the management of haj, I would like to strongly encourage all muslims to do their haj if they have not done so. I have only mentioned the physical aspects of the journey and have not touched the spiritual aspects at all. I had read the book by Maulana Zakariyya, thanks to my in-law Hj Roslan, so I am not going to elaborate on them; I know I can't beat the eloquence of the Maulana. Know the physical aspect of the haj rituals, and then follow up by the spiritual aspects. You would not go wrong with it. I thought haj is a moving ritual of Islam that take you to another level.</div>
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A beautiful story on the haj was shared by my Auntie MC Kam just prior to my trip. It is about a story of a person who had never performed the haj, but apparently for that particular year, his "haj" was the only mabrur haj conferred.<br />
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All he said to Him, with his feet firmly planted at his hometown thousands of miles away from Makkah, "Oh Allah, my haj is here!" </div>
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I thought by going for this long and arduous jouney, I would be blessed by him. I thought by spending my saving for this has, I would be granted one. Instead someone who had never laid his foot on the Makkan soil was rewarded - the shoemaker from Damsyik. His name is Muwaffaq. I don't know how true the story is since it involved a dream, but I would take it at face value. After giving away 300 dirham he had saved for his journey for haj to the widow with 7 children who were cooking and eating carcass ("My food is halal for me, but haram for you, she told Muwaffiq."), he said, "Oh Allah, my haj is here (at his neighbour doorsteps and not in Makkah)" since he can no longer afford to travel to Makkah.</div>
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And yet his was the only one accepted by Him, and he did not even set his foot in Makkah.</div>
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Allahu Akbar.</div>
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As such, I thought 2015 would be my last haj. I am not planning to go again. I know it is a bit to definitive to say it here - if Allah wills it, then you go again, but somehow I felt so strong about it. You are supposed to go once in a lifetime, if you can afford it. Then you go only once. If I have the means to go for haj again, I thought I should give it to someone who deserve to go; someone with a better chance for a mabrur haj, instead of me. Not only due to monetary cost, but considering visa limitation. </div>
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I hope I would be blessed for assisting someone with his haj. If he gets mabrur haj, surely Allah will reward me too. InsyaAllah. We should all be looking for Muwaffaqs in our midst. I know insyaAllah I would be looking for mine.</div>
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I do hope that He will bless me with the mean to give someone else the opportunity to perform it. Or help others with the money you want to use for your second haj. Get them out of poverty. Sponsor a student. Build a mosque. Or orphanage. Whatever you fancy,</div>
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I kept on telling my staff and my boys since coming back and encourage them to plan their way. I am not sure if umrah is even necessary unless they have the mean do it before Haj. But it is not even compulsory.</div>
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Just do it. He will reward you more than you had spent on your haj.<br />
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I know I should not say that this was my last haj. You must wish to go again. We should all have ambitions to be His guests, but I am looking from the perspective of the law within our religion.<br />
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Once in a lifetime, if you can afford it. (Not " If you can't afford it, once in a life time! It gives totally different meaning.) </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivnZX6l0GbFdhv4Sepp8DdiqbE582ILIcK5vjnxtlH-8ybFboe6jswIyqocVs_QH-gLoJNPn-FQ_R4qazlFPtD7Qh2Oiw8sOITid8cqo6CLyq-sq0GZ4Fg7TnyoIkXTtqI5vKBoofKCeP6/s1600/20150929_093014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivnZX6l0GbFdhv4Sepp8DdiqbE582ILIcK5vjnxtlH-8ybFboe6jswIyqocVs_QH-gLoJNPn-FQ_R4qazlFPtD7Qh2Oiw8sOITid8cqo6CLyq-sq0GZ4Fg7TnyoIkXTtqI5vKBoofKCeP6/s400/20150929_093014.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Arafah after Haj. At last I was able to stand here and du'a!</td></tr>
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Rahman Haririhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04474408822740473103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8277656418926255733.post-8919853002723309882015-11-21T10:28:00.000+08:002016-02-19T14:48:24.559+08:00Haj 2015 - Part VII Stoning and the 8 km walk<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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We normally left Mina by about 2 am in the morning. Had a quick sleep in the comfort of our rooms before the dawn prayer, and then only rest during the day before repeating the cycle. </div>
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So on the day of the 11th, we left Makkah to have our second stoning ritual. This time around there was no Zaki driving us around. We had to take the cab this time around. We are told, it will be tougher to enter Mina during the day with many roads closed.</div>
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So I think the cab charged Riyal 100 for the 7-8 odd km trip to Mina for the five of us. I am not sure; Ustaz Jufri handled all the transactions for us.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMjAmyOb-mnWycFQ2viKGfuCC6_j6r_z89q67mPe7MUEKhVtenzqcFDxXVxuX_bJdvgXqqlAwA5HisE-hhyxmNz2fDq6Z1xojTXB4gHtKbS0jOEwkutp1cB9VFCjrSX8FjVV9lhpkytDSp/s1600/20150925_105724.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMjAmyOb-mnWycFQ2viKGfuCC6_j6r_z89q67mPe7MUEKhVtenzqcFDxXVxuX_bJdvgXqqlAwA5HisE-hhyxmNz2fDq6Z1xojTXB4gHtKbS0jOEwkutp1cB9VFCjrSX8FjVV9lhpkytDSp/s320/20150925_105724.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The road leading to the Jamrah - one can only walk</td></tr>
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It was nearly midday when we arrived on the 11th Zulhijjah. I can assure you the day was so bright, and it was hot.</div>
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It was quite a distance for us to walk from the Mina town centre to the Jamrah. But it was an easy walk. Every few hundred metres, some people would spray water on to you to ensure you are kept cool. Wonderful. There are many ways for you to earn deed for your hereafter. Only that I wonder why the government did not bother have the auto spray fan along the path to the Jamrah. May because it was only a once in a year affair, unlike at the Grand Mosque where there will be people all year round.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNS5LrNRDC9tIhdayi7di18UuaQkAY5HAly-VHHY3QNQErONr5ZXtAdd7ttPloUR5jSTlBgcJvO-TjmrmI2HS4-v3vIzjz9PYHt6K6z_xtxTJW4r3ttcfA3Bmn_6p4wHIBist2grkbtVaI/s1600/20150925_105745.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNS5LrNRDC9tIhdayi7di18UuaQkAY5HAly-VHHY3QNQErONr5ZXtAdd7ttPloUR5jSTlBgcJvO-TjmrmI2HS4-v3vIzjz9PYHt6K6z_xtxTJW4r3ttcfA3Bmn_6p4wHIBist2grkbtVaI/s400/20150925_105745.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Paksu and Hj Halim at the back and this time around we have extra assistant handling our drinks for the walk</td></tr>
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But still, you are talking about 2-3 million people plying the Jamrah yearly; surely it will be money well spent.</div>
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The first day was a shorter walk - around 5 km, and we had no problem getting a cab back to the Grand Mosque. It was one happy walk doing the stoning. Even at midday, it was an easy ritual; we could do the stoning right at the edge of each Jamrah. I would not say it was crowded - crowded is relative of us. I am sure they were many people, but we weren't threaten with any risk of an incident. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyqOAd9Wl8TnVZOMAEIDNMKlmc-6I5fWIfnDWdaaVISnIH70QXb1bWsGL_jW2TPmP1ebXUqmc-fGQKds1fecSL3eUIgbzOTsRtusQJ1rNRWJYtcvg_YDyfeyTSUXlJv57Hj0_pPbFkopNo/s1600/20150925_105814.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyqOAd9Wl8TnVZOMAEIDNMKlmc-6I5fWIfnDWdaaVISnIH70QXb1bWsGL_jW2TPmP1ebXUqmc-fGQKds1fecSL3eUIgbzOTsRtusQJ1rNRWJYtcvg_YDyfeyTSUXlJv57Hj0_pPbFkopNo/s400/20150925_105814.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Don't laugh; it was ustaz Jufri's idea that he purchased this mini head umbrella for our walk in the hot sun. IN the back ground is Mina town</td></tr>
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It was barely 24 hours of the Mina stampede incident.</div>
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We were happy campers completing our stoning rituals. I did not take any pictures while we were stoning. It is not important to take picture. We were trying to concentrate doing the tasks at hand, and did not bother with the nitty gritty of selfie and picture taking. Furthermore, we thought we want to maintain certain dignity in performing the haj.</div>
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The second day was a tougher day. More road closure, and our journey took a different path and it involved the two tunnels leading to the Jamrah. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7p_2WXMuPvdrz_ImAZN9h9gW8CuumZfJtQVq-ET2klLUKME-zaFp5ZGr89f3Ta7QU84sVix6vfxFna5JVUe35LYT3AiejfF71tJzn_Cm1DPBqXzEdqNkJLFklFVizfxGRfJtnsIAbDx8O/s1600/IMG-20151007-WA0019.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7p_2WXMuPvdrz_ImAZN9h9gW8CuumZfJtQVq-ET2klLUKME-zaFp5ZGr89f3Ta7QU84sVix6vfxFna5JVUe35LYT3AiejfF71tJzn_Cm1DPBqXzEdqNkJLFklFVizfxGRfJtnsIAbDx8O/s400/IMG-20151007-WA0019.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">12th Zulhujjah stoning. This time through the tunnels you can see in the background. Much longer walk. See the spray bottle I was holding in my left hand. That is the most important piece of Haj tool that I can ever imagine. I managed to keep myself cool with spray of water.</td></tr>
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All in all, we walked about 8 km that day. I left my GPS running and have my S Health monitor my walking distance. Much more that I had ever done. But the heart and limbs were willing so there was no issues about walking. We also knew that that would be our last ritual. </div>
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We would be done by the 12th of Zulhijjah.</div>
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But we were tested on the last day - not only on the distance that we walked, but we could not get a cab to come back to the Grand mosque.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAFPHLwBEJ2JSbCstw8t54eFBfiwFEdbB7UUsmZSrHySVcUR8Bxa7mIi8MUIzQBjc8JOxmdhA6x5T0da43HzXa3zGbTr113woArYR1gbIE4Zr6I0ozOrVebIO1n7bgNmccs6DgOQAo4rMb/s1600/20150926_152444.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAFPHLwBEJ2JSbCstw8t54eFBfiwFEdbB7UUsmZSrHySVcUR8Bxa7mIi8MUIzQBjc8JOxmdhA6x5T0da43HzXa3zGbTr113woArYR1gbIE4Zr6I0ozOrVebIO1n7bgNmccs6DgOQAo4rMb/s400/20150926_152444.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Large crowd during the second day</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRioG8OE1A-ybXAulBkfEBN-YsJAkUMQgv_xmB1ytm7l9qmtpxrICgAuzUB_oBznjxP31A_sTJI8fKeHPj908rB0g74_Hh4ympsEmcMza5d99CODXN43vA_o9nmiVTopr9TPjeib2OtvP5/s1600/20150926_152450.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRioG8OE1A-ybXAulBkfEBN-YsJAkUMQgv_xmB1ytm7l9qmtpxrICgAuzUB_oBznjxP31A_sTJI8fKeHPj908rB0g74_Hh4ympsEmcMza5d99CODXN43vA_o9nmiVTopr9TPjeib2OtvP5/s400/20150926_152450.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Actually we did find a few cabs willing to take us, but they would want a few of Ry200 per person, making it Ry1000 for a 7 km trip to Makkah. It is too much to pay. We would think that these cab drivers would maintain certain dignity and not overcharge the Guests of Allah, but even in this holy land, everybody was working for themselves only.</div>
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Sad to say, isn't it?</div>
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I guess it is like working hard for a the haj month, or even for for days of Haj, and not having to work again for the remaining months of year. Wonderful, no?</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNv6R64iXBa3aKIudMko4q0gyf1Z1o9nNsSDG97Xn7WBfBe-Es-muAqnvUEu5A2qvXx2Mfhj_JPFQJ50KJYZ1QS83aS6m0k4yzwzBKFWk8CMlYLtmeou-MW8qD6ce8rScfyLU8OrA55Igy/s1600/20150926_164201.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNv6R64iXBa3aKIudMko4q0gyf1Z1o9nNsSDG97Xn7WBfBe-Es-muAqnvUEu5A2qvXx2Mfhj_JPFQJ50KJYZ1QS83aS6m0k4yzwzBKFWk8CMlYLtmeou-MW8qD6ce8rScfyLU8OrA55Igy/s400/20150926_164201.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View from inside the cab taking us back to al Haram. It was a reasonable jam going to the Grand Mosque, but you should see the jam of all the roads leading to Mina. It was really bad, but by this time, we were going the opposite way</td></tr>
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Anyway, it took us about 2 hours waiting for our cab. We walked and walked, and stop somewhere to have chai - wonderful hot chai to rest our tired - really tired - limbs.</div>
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And after a while, it struck us that we may never get a cab, so we asked Ustaz Jufri on how far it would be for us to walk back to al-Haraam.</div>
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"About 7 km, through that tunnel. At the end of it would be the Grand Mosque. We can see the tunnels, but we have walked for 8 km already, we weren't ready to walk another 7 km.</div>
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But we knew we may not have a choice.</div>
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Redha. Just do it. </div>
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We decided that since Allah has decided for us that we need to walk, about all the ease of performing the Haj, then we have to redha to His wishes. </div>
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We will walk the extra miles, we told Ustaz Jufri. He has been all so stressed up since he could not get a cab for us. We can see in on his face. Since we had agreed to walk, we told him to bring with him more cold drinks for that journey.</div>
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But God is great, the moment you leave your fate to Him, and readied yourself to walk, a cab arrived and agreed to take us for Ry 200 per cab.</div>
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Alhamdulillah, we cried with joy.</div>
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I know the concept of redha, but I had never seen how quickly one was rewarded by being redha.</div>
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Allahu Akbar. </div>
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Haj is quite a physical ritual. You need to be strong. You need to be healthy. Young people should be the one going - not old folks. It will be tougher for them. It did strain my muscles. I am not sure how to handle the remaining 7 km walk, if we had to walk that day.</div>
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It will be tough for sure. We might have to crawl.</div>
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After the ease of Haj on the first day, the last day was the most challenging. But still it was nothing like many had experienced. I thought my journey was so simple. And for me to be more thankful, I was also in the pink of our health throughout the Haj period. Not a tinge of sore throats or any of the common illness. My piles by this time had gone completely by Haj time.</div>
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Trust in Him. He will only test you what you can handle and surely he knew our limitations. </div>
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Rahman Haririhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04474408822740473103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8277656418926255733.post-78347369601588304472015-11-21T09:20:00.002+08:002015-11-23T07:16:20.516+08:00Haj 2015 - Part VI Mina - Beraduku tikarnya jalan, bumbungnya langit, lampunya bulan<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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We have decided while in Makkah that we were not going to go stay in the tents in Mina. It is not because of the experience of Arafah. It is just we felt that we would be more comfortable in our hotel in Makah and commute on a daily basis for Jamrah and due to some health issues of our members.</div>
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There are two elements of the the final ritual of Haj - the stoning ritual. I consider it the final since we have completed the Nafar Awal i.e. done our tawaf and Saei. The first element is that we need to stop for awhile at Mina - a stopover, if you must, before we do the stoning. In other words, the definition of s stop-over is that it has to exceed half a night.</div>
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In other words, we need to sleep over at Mina the night before, before we can do the stoning on the Tasyrik Days of 11, 12 and 13th of Zulhijjah. </div>
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So after resting that Raya day of the 10th of Zulhijjah, while monitoring the tragedy of the stampede on-line, after Asr prayer, we made a move to go to Mina. As it is basically the peak of Haj, many roads leading to the Al-Haraam have been closed and hence Zaki would not be able to pick us up at the hotel and take us to Mina.</div>
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We would have to take the bus from the Haraam and go to main terminal of Makkah. All buses going in and out of Makkah daily and hence vehicles are allowed. IT is only a 5 minute bus ride and you can imagine the crowd.</div>
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Nothing much you can do about it.</div>
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It is not bad actually. It adds up to the Haj experience. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXcyi9zZq3nOIwifyAseTlbFnnNxqzSd6zlAt4fKLt-U_SlBGGkI6OdZj50awr4L86MEURvAr-QOIS5T8QCtD7Y3_x5PbF1_FCyuYgJ4A7YJMjiphxq7aee_athtprvuxacFjirYEVKo_H/s1600/20150924_181406.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXcyi9zZq3nOIwifyAseTlbFnnNxqzSd6zlAt4fKLt-U_SlBGGkI6OdZj50awr4L86MEURvAr-QOIS5T8QCtD7Y3_x5PbF1_FCyuYgJ4A7YJMjiphxq7aee_athtprvuxacFjirYEVKo_H/s400/20150924_181406.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The terminal in Makkah. Ustaz in the foreground and the clock tower where we started in the background. At most it was a 10-min bus ride</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipQUeRIwJ3tRm2yqcbEPLnkXF3nxd2QuYNC5C9VjUhj18hlecYJfVfK15kmFzq__RJziiekcZArz1Hi65x9Gyq9yaDBX3_znqMgbTVIvJR0aA0nCgPe1WGd9te05F3nN47OYNG88edVYDe/s1600/20150924_181603.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipQUeRIwJ3tRm2yqcbEPLnkXF3nxd2QuYNC5C9VjUhj18hlecYJfVfK15kmFzq__RJziiekcZArz1Hi65x9Gyq9yaDBX3_znqMgbTVIvJR0aA0nCgPe1WGd9te05F3nN47OYNG88edVYDe/s400/20150924_181603.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It is the 11th night of Zulhijjah, so you can see the moon in the background high up, while we waited for Zaki to arrive. Traffic is an issue during Haj</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIE_1koIh2CGeDhmKVnTe0NcNYdfWRVdcitMwYvHHYWteUATv9t7YM1ypMK4xIHwBGPULdpPaH33-Fu4Yrb76tb2OTudYzL3r-1fizdt43i9Ud4IwPK2oCQpW1qXlX6Ql_wRb66-GxFWnj/s1600/20150924_182015.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIE_1koIh2CGeDhmKVnTe0NcNYdfWRVdcitMwYvHHYWteUATv9t7YM1ypMK4xIHwBGPULdpPaH33-Fu4Yrb76tb2OTudYzL3r-1fizdt43i9Ud4IwPK2oCQpW1qXlX6Ql_wRb66-GxFWnj/s400/20150924_182015.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another view of the bus terminal. Dont ask about the name of the terminal, I would not remember</td></tr>
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Once Zaki picks us up, normally he would go and buy foods for dinner that night before heading to Mina. Obviously he would ask us what we want to eat and we would tell ustaz Jaffri to bring his his (Indonesian) sambal as side dish.</div>
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We would probably enter Mina by 7.30 or so. It is still early. Most pilgrims were in the tents, so the road leading to Mina, or the side road were reasonably empty. Zaki knew exactly where to find the right spot for our Mabit in Mina.</div>
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By the side of a four-lane road that nobody use. It was only a 3-min walk to the tents of Mina, and yet we were in our own world.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaCb0_oC4rMMpyNxmsziql11m0NSpXpnRnv1rR4_u_4g1KpDow2mqpGX_FzBfT0ysnEUVzecOGLrlNHPqmzKWhNoAPFHt-eGWHCD-zYqvbHoE34qaIoTP8Ky-57Cbfv8GlRWenU9iifbDl/s1600/20150924_192033.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaCb0_oC4rMMpyNxmsziql11m0NSpXpnRnv1rR4_u_4g1KpDow2mqpGX_FzBfT0ysnEUVzecOGLrlNHPqmzKWhNoAPFHt-eGWHCD-zYqvbHoE34qaIoTP8Ky-57Cbfv8GlRWenU9iifbDl/s400/20150924_192033.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">MIna on the 11th of Zulhijjah night. We are ready for our Mabit</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirjAAh1T4Dw6Y4Hkfkfc7z5VRIG4k_N9Y4ZJNVK4_d36kcTlnazRgZj9eTjWIXDXHSXSSb95EvQEB19Mz3b_XydDH_EWYZ24LVrl_F2nDyzjEoKWcGY1Sz4qn9KSn8W8Wp-RnN5Yf7uXR4/s1600/20150924_192245.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirjAAh1T4Dw6Y4Hkfkfc7z5VRIG4k_N9Y4ZJNVK4_d36kcTlnazRgZj9eTjWIXDXHSXSSb95EvQEB19Mz3b_XydDH_EWYZ24LVrl_F2nDyzjEoKWcGY1Sz4qn9KSn8W8Wp-RnN5Yf7uXR4/s400/20150924_192245.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Getting ourselves comfortable for our mabit. Not quite berlantaikan asphalt, but you know what I mean ;) You see the ice box? Meaning we will have free flowing iced drink through out the night.</td></tr>
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Zaki knew every each of Makkah and its surrounding and I don't recall how many times he has taken pilgrims performing haj. He knew exactly where to park the car and we should do our Mabit.</div>
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We are just above the tunnel leading to the slaughter house for the Haj. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZweTndfA9h5UjfED-JsifeItUaptWqWcK7N9vfs0uGDZ415P6KEXWejUiCCCw4EHgCglU0VvcuOHj91TTt-CQdE6UtetP3zztKlPM1QFYzrIbApSlXxQQzvoxuDYLqM1Mx5TOpbsYDKGz/s1600/20150924_192646.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZweTndfA9h5UjfED-JsifeItUaptWqWcK7N9vfs0uGDZ415P6KEXWejUiCCCw4EHgCglU0VvcuOHj91TTt-CQdE6UtetP3zztKlPM1QFYzrIbApSlXxQQzvoxuDYLqM1Mx5TOpbsYDKGz/s1600/20150924_192646.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The tunnel near our site. It leads to the slaughter house for the Haj</td></tr>
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I can assure you that this is very comfortable. I guess it was quiet, away from the hustle and bustle of the tent area, so we have some privacy to sleep in the open. But more important, the weather cooperate - night time in Mina is really comfortable.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixv9UTYXgQbJL0bW4h2KizWzSqq3BVrIR8wH6Tbvs0qEdPbPNVc6JCKtcGJog_zaZ8sAWz7nM8BcVYz-ruHGRCAZR5yaSqO8Y49ip33zBba3nrKTEbo7CuqrmDcHbxY5kQZRdMobnItqjT/s1600/20150924_193940.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixv9UTYXgQbJL0bW4h2KizWzSqq3BVrIR8wH6Tbvs0qEdPbPNVc6JCKtcGJog_zaZ8sAWz7nM8BcVYz-ruHGRCAZR5yaSqO8Y49ip33zBba3nrKTEbo7CuqrmDcHbxY5kQZRdMobnItqjT/s400/20150924_193940.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Getting ourselves comfortable. We will be here for the next 5 hours or so</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVKqJvxwlNjE_OunAxGJnjZ8epdDF6uXYtWQJlYWafwJrqtwWG7-OJeWbtMQ3y5SnNc0Q-n3G2bPmIVGHcIWXySHKnsTqrqCiqnof5xN2n55FlWpORDkTJw6Z-caw6giWGLwJ4qN3xrN2t/s1600/20150924_194006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVKqJvxwlNjE_OunAxGJnjZ8epdDF6uXYtWQJlYWafwJrqtwWG7-OJeWbtMQ3y5SnNc0Q-n3G2bPmIVGHcIWXySHKnsTqrqCiqnof5xN2n55FlWpORDkTJw6Z-caw6giWGLwJ4qN3xrN2t/s400/20150924_194006.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At the back of our spot is the two-storey restrooms</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5PTi_or_iUtScY1TXsXugsoyD8dEK1OnHDJy3egW9fGrQ3VhT6sITMfPtvIiUf2iFjfWFzlHZcsHnCJvaWw7jTsvswoaJ287_uIjF5yXnS8-DhJQyWgHuz8P_W_EkrstMi0Y4PCkLqby2/s1600/20150924_194030.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5PTi_or_iUtScY1TXsXugsoyD8dEK1OnHDJy3egW9fGrQ3VhT6sITMfPtvIiUf2iFjfWFzlHZcsHnCJvaWw7jTsvswoaJ287_uIjF5yXnS8-DhJQyWgHuz8P_W_EkrstMi0Y4PCkLqby2/s400/20150924_194030.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our space in relation to the pilgrims' tents in Mina. As I have said, we are only 3 mins away from their tents. </td></tr>
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Before anything else, we have to have our dinner. Oops, not true, we did our prayer first, before we filled out our carpet with food - mandey on first night, and chinese foods on the second night.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpigNSu_2UGOAqmB5F_z87S6lMaPwo9bmUuRToSrGWfzY-Q6Mh4kblYRGkjO1K0NqH__jxGUklp5sCEViQS3als2yUmkind7zmbUWCrIpgVmhlhyCB9m-O2LZ9jgMzh4Ha3GoRCurSiNg5/s1600/20150924_203700.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpigNSu_2UGOAqmB5F_z87S6lMaPwo9bmUuRToSrGWfzY-Q6Mh4kblYRGkjO1K0NqH__jxGUklp5sCEViQS3als2yUmkind7zmbUWCrIpgVmhlhyCB9m-O2LZ9jgMzh4Ha3GoRCurSiNg5/s400/20150924_203700.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yes, yes, it was a feast each night with hot dinner and very cold drinks. Wonderful. You want iced-water, we have iced water even until the end of the mabit each night.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYr8LZy81j8iUIsp5f5a1TLY0SgYL3IHXz3KY2A4OcJBZO5ZHbxtNy68sL3fiahfLDyIO7wxNTmmdZOGHGZELhcu8hWUnwY5J_Iw9FMhpP6u7rm2-aibimv8PJh7p-yz_kKp5CoYmtrkeu/s1600/20150924_210110.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYr8LZy81j8iUIsp5f5a1TLY0SgYL3IHXz3KY2A4OcJBZO5ZHbxtNy68sL3fiahfLDyIO7wxNTmmdZOGHGZELhcu8hWUnwY5J_Iw9FMhpP6u7rm2-aibimv8PJh7p-yz_kKp5CoYmtrkeu/s400/20150924_210110.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I walked to the pilgrims' tents. The second night, I was supposed to have teh tarik and ice-cream with Haji Judane at his tent, but he was down with fever. I went looking for him and even paged for him at the clinic. The tents were comfortable during the night, but I dreaded thinking about during the mid-day sun as they have no airconditioning.</td></tr>
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Maktab 86 is where many Malaysian pilgrims would stay. I was supposed for have tehtarik session but in the end I walked away empty handed due to Judane illness.<br />
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I could not think how I can survive here. NOt only due to the number of people, but also due to the non-airconditioning of the tents. I believe that is due for an upgrade very soon. Many of the elderly collapse due to dehydration and the heat.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn38UdhOQOLNgf_7SdHb216R64NDoYSh0k8ZL-kT-cSRbi8c1Kk1TG7TP2zqLkENCMctCRAk8jttQpoRe6_VeJAOaS6hwCxhgk0-EmZLNKYaFeSdY-Uz78h3trPDyyh68yjDh5mx9NiD3l/s1600/20150924_211916.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn38UdhOQOLNgf_7SdHb216R64NDoYSh0k8ZL-kT-cSRbi8c1Kk1TG7TP2zqLkENCMctCRAk8jttQpoRe6_VeJAOaS6hwCxhgk0-EmZLNKYaFeSdY-Uz78h3trPDyyh68yjDh5mx9NiD3l/s400/20150924_211916.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Maktab 86</td></tr>
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My only other take about the tent conditions would be the mountain-high garbage pile and the rats manning those garbages. Yes, al-Haraam is very clean with the number of cleaners on duty each hour, and they should adopt same cleanliness standard here.<br />
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I have no doubt that many fell sick here due to the cleanliness issues.<br />
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I really would recommend any future haj goers to take this route and commute on a daily basis from Makkah. It is much more comfortable, if you are looking for comfort. But if you want to experience what the others experienced, yes, you can stay at Mina.<br />
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I am very happy and satisfied with this method. Staying for 5 to 6 hours each night on Tasyrik nights is a good alternative. Sleeping in the open is quite an experience not many would go through except those hardcore pilgrims who came without hotel arrangement. I did not take any picture of us sleeping, but I can assure you we slept like a log. We needed the forty wink each night. It was quite a strain on some of us physically. Haj is quite physical, so sleeping anywhere in the comfortable weather of Mina is indeed a wonderful experience.</div>
</div>
Rahman Haririhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04474408822740473103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8277656418926255733.post-27204162048893560802015-11-20T20:43:00.002+08:002015-11-23T06:59:55.327+08:00Haj 2015 - The Mina Stampede<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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We were all resting in the room that morning of the incident. We had completed our Nafar Awal by Dawn prayer's time, and I guess after breakfast, we went back to have a rest, and may be atch much needed sleep. We had slept sporadically in the last 24 hours - a couple of hours at Mudzalifah, most likely and that was it.</div>
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In bed, we were perhaps surfing or on Facebook when we heard the news about the stampede and the 700 odd pilgrims who died at Mina. Obviously we were a bit overwhelmed by the news of the tragedy, but we were nowhere Mina when it happened. In fact, we were all resting in the comfort of our room. After all, we had completed our Aqabah at midnight.</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7bG749WKveW-sjap7c63g-S97LE8bC0rlxGo3XBYoiodx0UDnXPc8mxI9NnIOYSOU5xLpoEaiVZPxccA5IOBdi_m6Pyh2Pgw2oOI5vJqp5YEiyo8xX2GpF44wSLkH6ra4Bk0CaDSds3qi/s1600/stampede.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7bG749WKveW-sjap7c63g-S97LE8bC0rlxGo3XBYoiodx0UDnXPc8mxI9NnIOYSOU5xLpoEaiVZPxccA5IOBdi_m6Pyh2Pgw2oOI5vJqp5YEiyo8xX2GpF44wSLkH6ra4Bk0CaDSds3qi/s320/stampede.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Taken from BVI News</td></tr>
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As the tragedy unfold, we were reminded how this year's Haj had become the worst in term of tragedy, in the past 25 years, and it was not a record we would like to associate our haj with. But fate had it that we were here - never mind we were 8 km away.</div>
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And of course we were soon be bombarded with wassap messages about our well being.</div>
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I don't really know what transpired at Road 6 at Mina, but there were stories about how certain roads at Mina were closed at that time due to the presence of a Saudi prince. I was not surprised; we were ourselves stopped just after the tunnel due to the presence of a convoy purportedly of the royal families. Fortunately it took about a couple of minutes, so there was no untoward incident.</div>
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But should it lasted a few more minute, bigger crowds would have built up, and we can only guess the consequences of such build up.</div>
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I believe that the Saudi police or mosque security should learn more about crowd control. For all the years of managing pilgrims over the past hundreds of years, they are somehow incompetent in my eyes. I am sorry to have to say this, but they should know better how to handle the Guests of Allah, and not treat the pilgrims with disdain!<br />
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(They should learn how Disney staff handle visitors at their park - with a lot of smiles, and enthusiasm, but at the Grand Mosque, the staff and security think of us as a chore; that we are disturbing their leisure time with their handphones.) </div>
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I put the responsibility of the Mina tragedy solely in the hand of the Saudi government, and nobody else. The pilgrims were not to be blamed.</div>
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Many times at the Grand Mosque, the mosque security cordoned off, or closed certain gate, which I took as for no reasons. Let me explained. We were at least 1 hour away from Maghrib prayer, and the whole of the Dataran infront of the Clock Tower were filled up to the brim with pilgrims. Even the mall has started to fill up.</div>
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I guess many pilgrims simply were reluctant to go inside the mosque for reasons best known to them. Lazy, tired, too far - whatever the reasons, they simply took up the space available in the open space between clock tower and say King Abdul Aziz gate. </div>
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Sp after managing to squeeze past through the sea of people, the security closed the door with escalator leading to the roof the mosque. We knew that the roof was empty - we can see it from our room. Puzzled as to why the door was blocked, many pilgrims including us, simply wait at the door, hoping that they will open it in due time.</div>
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The crowd started to build up. They have no else to go; the open space had been filled up to the brim. The security officer was instructing us - the crowd, but not knowing Arabic, they might as well talked to the wall.</div>
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The wall might listened.</div>
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After about 10 mins, the crowd had swell to a large one. </div>
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And then they opened the door.</div>
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The crowd simply push forward. And many were squeezed in as the door has a limited space and the crowd gathered were much bigger than the door width. Many scrambled to get it. No matter what you said about not pushing, many were simply doing that. They would push, they would shove you aside in order for them to get ahead (of you). People were competing with each other to get the best spot; to be neared to Kaabah, or whatever the reasons may be.</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs3I1umg0LWpAcEeePKjvjzV59ji9x6FM8384wk2nmZ3SMPJlC01AXsYf1v2eofc4QZLsL20mZHZbnrc7DwAd4JZEbOwj9OtCJJFelAD9KKZ_M6ej_lXLE9SJ59c6pY7VjRQE7hVG_a9iN/s1600/20150920_192755.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs3I1umg0LWpAcEeePKjvjzV59ji9x6FM8384wk2nmZ3SMPJlC01AXsYf1v2eofc4QZLsL20mZHZbnrc7DwAd4JZEbOwj9OtCJJFelAD9KKZ_M6ej_lXLE9SJ59c6pY7VjRQE7hVG_a9iN/s400/20150920_192755.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Can you see that even at the peak of Haj, we have ample of space to pray? You may remember the Saudi Third Expansion. The floor space is enormous. Why on earth would they closed the doors leading to this rooftop area for it to become a free for all?</td></tr>
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I can tell you that many were nearly trampled. If they can jump over somebody, they would do it.</div>
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It was sad to see us pilgrims resorting to this.</div>
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But the irony was when we reached the roof section (open air), there were as empty as it can be. Crowds hundreds of time bigger can be accommodated there without any problem. Even until isya prayer, one can still came up and have a luxury of space upstair.</div>
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The question is why the escalator door was closed in the first place? Who gave that order? Did it come with knowledge ie was there a CCTV showing the space at the top? Why later it was open? Paksu and I were puzzled. We could not comprehend it at all.</div>
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It seems that they were all done at the whim and fancy of somebody and without proper understanding of crowd control and herd mentality.</div>
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It was sad.</div>
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Many could have been crushed that evening, but lucky nothing untoward happened. Otherwise I may not be here to relive the tale.</div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7_uzi5UvddjS6Hh7cWhEs03qaeRUaAS2TKslQcsiboCwG8Qdv_h7nrjeTVhVztRDJlHIseaX4iJlvmGv8NXJkUpth3y36eiHfYqtZ6NbR56PPhnOGoqJ40at32-k9RLTgdwtugFzh87LP/s1600/20150920_192811.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7_uzi5UvddjS6Hh7cWhEs03qaeRUaAS2TKslQcsiboCwG8Qdv_h7nrjeTVhVztRDJlHIseaX4iJlvmGv8NXJkUpth3y36eiHfYqtZ6NbR56PPhnOGoqJ40at32-k9RLTgdwtugFzh87LP/s400/20150920_192811.jpg" width="225" /></a></div>
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And to change topic, we tried to stay away from the crane and tried to project the path it would fall and move away from that path ;)</div>
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The Grand MOsque security people or the police have to be smart. First and foremost, language is a barrier. Not everybody can speak Arabic, and most of them can barely speak English. Never mind that Arabic is the official language of Islam, but they are serving the Guests of Allah. Be humble and learn other languages so that the Grand Mosque can serve the pilgrims better.</div>
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It is not too much to ask. MOst of the time they were only chatting amongst themselves.</div>
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They can expect the pilgrims to be on best behaviour. We come from many countries with different cultures and education.</div>
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Due to many incidents like this - near misses, if we can use that term, I strongly believe that the road at certain part of Mina were cordoned off for somebody high up there.</div>
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My kids's piano school owner once asked of me about the incident I told him how the crowd were asked to leave their saf since the King of Malaysia was visiting. And our Yang DiPertuan Agong was only about 4 saf away from us.</div>
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"I thought everyone is equal there?" Commander James asked me. He was curious.</div>
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"Well, commander, yes everybody was equal there."</div>
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"But I guess some are more equal than others!"</div>
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Rahman Haririhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04474408822740473103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8277656418926255733.post-20469452345187886962015-11-20T07:58:00.002+08:002015-11-22T07:51:46.828+08:00Haj 2015 - Raya at the Tower Food Court<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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So we were done with our Nafar Awal by 4.45 am, 10 minutes before down/subuh. I did mine after subh prayer. We went to the barber at the basement and I asked for a 1 centi cut. I don't want it to be too short; I won't look good.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTSO1O6obLfQ0Bq_2nzvS4YyfI68LGUN3OldpVd8GYPaJ3zOUwZbBmzQOlgQSujoB4FzoRJQw1TFhqKzczlCYihyphenhyphenf59UTZNWAqA7j1_qPHW8PCiQsshc_HL7IkZr1ynyx3ngv25G5kGGWZ/s1600/ZAMZAMTOWER0003_zps6787a994.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTSO1O6obLfQ0Bq_2nzvS4YyfI68LGUN3OldpVd8GYPaJ3zOUwZbBmzQOlgQSujoB4FzoRJQw1TFhqKzczlCYihyphenhyphenf59UTZNWAqA7j1_qPHW8PCiQsshc_HL7IkZr1ynyx3ngv25G5kGGWZ/s400/ZAMZAMTOWER0003_zps6787a994.jpg" width="267" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">ZamZam Tower barbers - Taken from http://rezeki-suatucatatanperjalanan.blogspot.my/2013_07_01_archive.html</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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But the barber did not even adjust it his haircut instrument. He just pick it up and give it a blast over my head. I should have known better. I was left with only 1 mm of hair!</div>
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It is ok. The more the merrier, I said to myself. All my sins will be washed away with the weight of my hair.</div>
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Soon we made our way to the hotel for a proper clean-up. We have been away for nearly a day. But since we were early, Ustaz Jufri and I decided to have a quick breakfast at the Mall food court and not bother with the hotel restaurant. We were both dressed up - I in baju Melayu and Ustaz in his jubah. Both were immaculate since we even had the time to iron it at the room.</div>
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It is after all Hari Raya Aidil Adha morning and we are supposed to have our breakfast before the solat prayer. "So ustaz, what is the solat time here in Makkah," I asked him.</div>
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"I think it is 7 am. it is early."</div>
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So by 6 am, we were having breakfast, and chatting about what we went through the past 24 hours. I thought it was quite an achievement to complete the Nafar Awal without much hiccup. There was no rendang and ketupat, and we were not complaining. We weren't even thinking about it.</div>
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But all of the sudden, we heard a call for prayer. We looked at each other and then at our cellphone - none of us had a watch. It says 6,30 am.</div>
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"Allahu Akbar," </div>
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The imam was starting the Eid Adha prayer, and we were still at the food court.</div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
So we rushed down.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Nothing much we can do, except to pray at the Mall together with others. It was reasonably full. There was no way we could have reached the Haraam in time if we want to join the prayer in the first rakaah.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
There was no Raya takbir to warn us, and to melt our hearts, if you know what I mean. The imam was a bit to quick for us. We nearly missed it, but luckily we didn't. Of course the subsequent khutbah was done in Arabic, so we have no clue to what the sermon was all about.<br />
<br />
I am sure not many pilgrims had the opportunity to solah Eid at the Haraam, especially when doing one's haj. I am told that there is no solat Eid at Mina; it was after all a sunaat prayer and not q requirement for haj.<br />
<br />
But alhamdulillah, we were in Makkah and had a taste of solat Eid, albeit at the Tower Mall.</div>
</div>
Rahman Haririhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04474408822740473103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8277656418926255733.post-59920634750591229952015-11-18T20:02:00.002+08:002015-11-23T07:14:07.810+08:00Haj 2015 - Part V Nafar Awal and the Ministers from Malaysia<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Just to be on the safe side, we left Mudzalifah at 12.02 am. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The road was still empty. The pilgrims at Mudzalifah have still to get onto their buses when we left. We have no delayed reaction - there were only five of us, seven if you include the ustaz and Zaki. Many had started walking. May Allah bless them. We breezed through the highway heading to the Aqabah for our first date with the Jamrah. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Until we reached the main street of the Jamrah when we were not allowed in -there was a roadblock. The officer manning it would not let us through. Our car has the sticker and yet he would not yield to us.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"If we were to use another route, it would be quite a walk for us," Zaki explained. "Let me try and talked to the security officer, and see if he would let us through," he said.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It was quite a conversation. At times I thought it was like a verbal fight between Zaki and the security officer manning the roadblock. It went for quite sometime too. In my mind, I was thinking, it is ok Zaki, never mind. We have come thus far and a short walk would be fine. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
After all, we were delivered right to our (tent) door step at Arafah, and then again at Mudzalifah. Technically we didn't walk at all. So what if we need to walk now? The clock showed 12.30 am. Most pligrims were still in Mudzalifah.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Suddenly the officer walked away and opened the barrier.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
He was letting us in!<br />
<br />
"Yay, what did you say to him Zaki?" we all chorused. We were very curious.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Well, in the end I just told him that you are all ministers from Malaysia!"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We all burst into laughter. It cheered us up. Zaki can now parked the car very close to Aqabah and again we need not to walk far for our first Jamrah at 12.45 am.<br />
<br />
Alhamdulillah. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYA7fecpo7wpzCc5kKS-c1pksIHdpLy6Y_-u09eFSrnw0FsxV73Rm-THcNRDN_MkpK_PqjdlJ3echspTJdIERdlxfN3iewPrfXP3pfljytVXEYmyhbw6TkRmoS4Ync2ER-dLFbaASTUPCq/s1600/20150924_003050.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYA7fecpo7wpzCc5kKS-c1pksIHdpLy6Y_-u09eFSrnw0FsxV73Rm-THcNRDN_MkpK_PqjdlJ3echspTJdIERdlxfN3iewPrfXP3pfljytVXEYmyhbw6TkRmoS4Ync2ER-dLFbaASTUPCq/s400/20150924_003050.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The midnight throw of the Aqabah. You can do it right at the edge. But I am not sure how many of the pilgrims can beat us at the Jamrah or Kaabah that morning.In any case, it was a breeze.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
There was a slight jam in Mina when we headed back to Makkah. I guess many were doing what we were trying to do. Complete our Nafar Awal before subuh.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
By 1.30 am we reached our hotel, did the needful and I guess we went out for our tawaf by 2,30 am. There were already many people there, but the tawaf would still take about 1 hour and then the saei would take a little bit more than an hour. It was like a normal tawaf and saei.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We completed our nafar awal 10 minutes before dawn prayer! We are done - the rest of the jemaah did, but I was not technically done as I wanted to go to the barber and do a crew-cut hair cut for my Nafar Awal. I want to max out all my sins' being forgiven by Him and started afresh. The more hair I can cut from my head, the merrier. It was worth the weight in gold - definitely more. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Yes, we can now wear our normal clothing, and can now get ready for our Raya prayer at the Haraam!<br />
<br />
But we were not thinking of ketupat, lemang and rendang at all that morning. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><span style="color: #cfe2f3;">EPILOGUE</span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><span style="color: #cfe2f3;">Just to recap our Haj journey thus far:</span></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><span style="color: #cfe2f3;">Left Makkah on 9 Zulhijjah at 10 am</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><span style="color: #cfe2f3;">Reached Arafah by 10.45 am</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><span style="color: #cfe2f3;">Left Arafah by 6.15 pm</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><span style="color: #cfe2f3;">Reached Mudzalifah by 6.45 pm</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><span style="color: #cfe2f3;">Left Mudzalifah by 12.02 am</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><span style="color: #cfe2f3;">REached Jamrah by 12.30 am</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><span style="color: #cfe2f3;">Left Jamrah by 12.45 am</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><span style="color: #cfe2f3;">Reached Makkah by 1.30 am</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><span style="color: #cfe2f3;">Went for Tawaf at 2,30 am</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><span style="color: #cfe2f3;">Finished Saei by 4.45 am</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><span style="color: #cfe2f3;">Nafar Awal by 4.45 am</span></span></div>
Rahman Haririhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04474408822740473103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8277656418926255733.post-87312975997254132602015-11-18T19:24:00.000+08:002015-11-19T07:18:32.526+08:00Haj 2015 - Part IV Mudzalifah & Malam Bulan dipagar Bintang<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">Prologue</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">So I survived Arafah. Barely, I must add. In hindsight, if I can re-do Wukuf, I would. I was not very satisfied with my ibadah during Wukuf. I was trying hard to get through the day; more than I was trying to go deep in my prayers. And I must say I was so stressed out by the heat that I could not think properly; and that I felt weak.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">For the uninitiated - like me before doing my haj, Wukuf is done in Arafah between just after mid-day to sunset i.e. magrib. Technically we can leave Arafah by sunset, sunset is about 5.30 pm and head to Mudzalifah. Technically we can stay for 1 seconds in Mudzalifah; there is no major requirement for this mabit. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">But one can leave Mudzalifah only after midnight. Not a second earlier.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
MUDZALIFAH & The Seven Pebbles</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We did our maghrib prayer in the dark in our tent in Arafah. I am not sure if there is any light; I guess there should be since there are pilgrims doing overnight in Arafah the night before. But our small tent has no light, so we did our deeds in the not-so-bright light of sunset.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Slowly we make our moves heading to the gate. Thousands were already there waiting for their buses, and there was not a single bus in sight - they have not arrived yet. We had to squeeze our way out, apologizing for beating the technically-non-existent queue, by excusing ourselves that our bus has arrived.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
A few would not budge; they must have thought that we were trying to beat the queue. We weren't, and we had to explain that we have car waiting for us, before the let us through reluctantly.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBuGlXN72XyGWqd72Qx9EhyFcuNePh0PXhhtVk9ddWsbLgkZDwoBHPDqgC8b676VzT4t0FcsfHqCfpngten2iv1apg_ifyAAdzdVbO8zqjSB0HZ-AXEuHOYnfQDXzgPred-_GppmMjzil_/s1600/20150923_192009.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBuGlXN72XyGWqd72Qx9EhyFcuNePh0PXhhtVk9ddWsbLgkZDwoBHPDqgC8b676VzT4t0FcsfHqCfpngten2iv1apg_ifyAAdzdVbO8zqjSB0HZ-AXEuHOYnfQDXzgPred-_GppmMjzil_/s400/20150923_192009.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mudzalifah! We were here first and soon loads of buses and cars joined us</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Within minutes, we were ferried out of Arafah and headed to Mudzalifah, and it was only a short journey. Guess in less than 15 minutes, may be twenty, who knows, we have reached Mudzalifah. May be at most, it was before 7 pm. Zaki parked the car and quickly we settled down at a chosen spot on the desert. It was not the best of spots; it was in the middle of nowhere to be honest. It didn't matter. But soon many cars and buses would arrive and it would have a fiesta atmosphere in that area.</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6HSux7lx9Rb8zM7iBoajadjPda_CEgGn7sa8iq9RwkrozazKb0gApXNhyphenhyphentpg-9ulAv-wKGIkPWiXjmochnn5PKp9uMuxwwdmDhkygW6pDfqEGfYH_g8I9p5_C9Hzvx2xs0ffvaH6dGy0Q/s1600/20150923_192409.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6HSux7lx9Rb8zM7iBoajadjPda_CEgGn7sa8iq9RwkrozazKb0gApXNhyphenhyphentpg-9ulAv-wKGIkPWiXjmochnn5PKp9uMuxwwdmDhkygW6pDfqEGfYH_g8I9p5_C9Hzvx2xs0ffvaH6dGy0Q/s400/20150923_192409.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dining in the desert for us</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Zaki and Jufri put up the carpet on the sand, and we quickly have our dinner!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Dinner was simple meals of sandwiches and cheese, and fruits and cold drinks. But it was good enough for me. It is just to fill up the empty stomach - I didn't have lunch, and with no public restroom within walking distance, I would prefer to control food intakes.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
More importantly, we were here to collect the seven pebbles for us to throw at Aqabah, so after dinner, we quickly did just that</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdlerzwcbIwX32TtZiGC4RzYpW1I_MzGncSv2CrVueGmMoQPWUgVx1cvj0BIkYwqslWHq9kuCyCVEAW0E4kzGvER4xDAQ0WM-8U1FfJVNiFJwPE9tX5GGOJwsVmtJBxstJ6Bs2PPV2Zskc/s1600/20150923_194658.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdlerzwcbIwX32TtZiGC4RzYpW1I_MzGncSv2CrVueGmMoQPWUgVx1cvj0BIkYwqslWHq9kuCyCVEAW0E4kzGvER4xDAQ0WM-8U1FfJVNiFJwPE9tX5GGOJwsVmtJBxstJ6Bs2PPV2Zskc/s400/20150923_194658.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The romantic couple of Maksu and Paksu, working hard as a team</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjP_DuDjLikf6U_c58D9bKgxt8kksUvaxgLqD-51Q2KOcb4cgUH4yF50IPofYtyiJRMYZuaj42HoFQ2mfBPi8BKzcZsJlFq7Heqxz9-0LpKJU725XDYwLmHEDWgmSaSIo1vd7rpOTOl2XP/s1600/20150923_195537.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjP_DuDjLikf6U_c58D9bKgxt8kksUvaxgLqD-51Q2KOcb4cgUH4yF50IPofYtyiJRMYZuaj42HoFQ2mfBPi8BKzcZsJlFq7Heqxz9-0LpKJU725XDYwLmHEDWgmSaSIo1vd7rpOTOl2XP/s400/20150923_195537.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Enough for bus load of pilgrims - Paksu is very efficient in his collection</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Just imagine, wearing our ihram, we were like kids looking for batu seremban. I tried too, but in the end, I gave up. I was still too tired by the heat in Arafah, and I knew the ustaz would collect more than he needed. I know I could rely on him for all my pebbles need to throw at the Jamrah.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
By then, bus load of people were there. Some of the pilgrims from Middle East brought their big pots of Mandey! I wish they would invited me to join them for dinner. It has a carnival atmosphere.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO7ERYZk-LVeta3_oEw6EEYVqphLjzTcbLs6RjEMHIviAUFbrKXjrWQ_S9YNw1a2p4U2s7ipt0vdT8gwN60BC65b1Yp-fWpHopfV2ibKxHAeRbo97vhUheqpSDjaKAmdjXFThI8sJl75cL/s1600/20150923_195117.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO7ERYZk-LVeta3_oEw6EEYVqphLjzTcbLs6RjEMHIviAUFbrKXjrWQ_S9YNw1a2p4U2s7ipt0vdT8gwN60BC65b1Yp-fWpHopfV2ibKxHAeRbo97vhUheqpSDjaKAmdjXFThI8sJl75cL/s400/20150923_195117.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Other pilgrims there doing the needful</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
As I have mentioned earlier, we cannot leave until after midnight. Technically we don't need to be here very early. But today's transportation and the fact that there were only five of us, we were here in no time. And hence we had to spend quite a bit of time here.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Some may arrived after 11 pm, and their waiting time would be much less. I guess in the old days, people would walk and ride the camel, and hence it would take them hours to reach Mudzalifah, so it would justify the time why we can only leave after midnight.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
So what else we need to do to while our time away?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Yes, forty winks. We have our carpet, our sleeping bag as pillow and the black sky as our roof, and we slept our time away, oblivious to our surrounding! There was nothing in the books guiding us on what we need to do at Mudzalifah.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I guess soon many of us were in the realms of sweet dreams. I had my short nap interrupted a couple of times, but I managed to close my eyes. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Yes, Malam bulan di pagar bintang. Yes, starry starry night! All of these. In Mudzalifah. Mak Su and Pak Su slept well, but Haji Halim slept like a baby, until it was time to leave.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But the ustaz and Zaki the driver were manning fort. Close to midnight, they would wake us up, and get it ready.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We got out of Mudzalifah at 12.02 am, and headed to Mina for our Aqabah!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">EPILOGUE</span><br />
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">Just to recap our Haj journey thus far:</span><br />
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">Left Makkah on 9 Zulhijjah at 10 am</span><br />
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">Reached Arafah by 10.45 am</span><br />
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">Left Arafah by 6.15 pm</span><br />
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">Reached Mudzalifah by 6.45 pm</span><br />
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">Left Mudzalifah by 12.02 am (technically we were on Raya night 10, Zulhijjah)</span></div>
</div>
Rahman Haririhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04474408822740473103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8277656418926255733.post-62937589633653948732015-11-17T19:02:00.003+08:002015-11-19T11:17:27.338+08:00Haj 2015 - Part III Wukuf & The Heat Wave<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><span style="font-size: large;">Prologue</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">If there is anything I like about my Haj or trip for Makkah this time around, it is for the fact that I did not have any of the normal ailments associated with the weather or conditions there.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">The hemorrhoids that I had before leaving for Haj has subsided tremendously, and I was no longer in pain the last 2 days before wukuf. It must be the zam-zam water; in any case I was thankful it did not give me any trouble at all. With His grace.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">Alhamdulillah.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">But what puzzled me the most is that none of us (there were five of us altogether in the group) had any complaint whatsoever of sore throat, cough, cold or fever at all. Not even a tinge of soreness. None. Nol. Kosong. Zero. Zilch. Oh, puzzling was not the proper adjective to describe my feeling then, and even now. More like I am thankful. I can safely mention here that until the end of Haj, I had no complaints. My medical box has no use beyond my daily blood pressure medicine. I think this is His way of compensating me for the dilemma and problems I was facing early on. May be, I don't know that for sure.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">As far as I can remember, I would get at least one of them on the very first day in Makkah or in Madinah. For me it would normally start with sore-throat, and would follow with cough and/or some form of fever. I would feel bad; I had skipped a few external ziarah trips due to health reason on my first trip.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">But I was in the pink of my health during the haj. Allahuakbar.</span><br />
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">I hope it is not a reflection of the "<i>mabrurity</i>" of my haj; pardon my coining the terminology. People have said that without any pain or illness - cough was the ailment normally mentioned, there was no haji mabrur!</span><br />
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">I hope that was said in jest.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">22nd Sept (The Day before Wukuf)</span><br />
<br />
We had decided during a quick meeting with the mutawwif and organizer on how we would approach the Wukuf as the day drew nearer. We knew the majority would head to Arafah the day before wukuf, specifically after asr. Wukuf this year would fall on 23rd September, so technically late afternoon on 22nd September, tens of thousands, most likely millions, would be making their way to Arafah. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7fcdh_2a3iCY3X1AKRWoXoP7uTs7EOsmGjfsrGCmEk_2ogQzcOsojxgp4fkESvG41AqoUUZwovM6wOafBycaa4zX369o56rqiuu2DDwOj58QjZd6wMi0g6ogU2_MvgwtgvyAHko2sGkXH/s1600/20150922_131814.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7fcdh_2a3iCY3X1AKRWoXoP7uTs7EOsmGjfsrGCmEk_2ogQzcOsojxgp4fkESvG41AqoUUZwovM6wOafBycaa4zX369o56rqiuu2DDwOj58QjZd6wMi0g6ogU2_MvgwtgvyAHko2sGkXH/s400/20150922_131814.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After Asr prayer, the lobby of the hotel is full of pilgrims heading to Arafah on the 22nd Sept, the day before wukuf. My journey however would only begin in the morning of the Wukuf day itself. The next day.</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Mind you, Arafah is only about 21 odd kilometres, but as I had mentioned in Part I, everybody would be heading the same way at the same time, so a simple one-hour journey may lasts much longer.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Ustaz Jufri assured us that we should not have problem reaching Arafah even if we were to head there late morning on Wukuf day itself. In fact he reckoned that the road would be empty since by then everybody would be in Arafah already. We debated intently on the risk. "Wukuf is Haj," said my sister later. So without it, there would be no haj. The prophet said so himself. "The car has all the permit to drive anywhere during the haj," the organizer told us, "furthermore Zaki is more Arab than he is Malay! He would have no problem." Since there is no or little risk of not making it to Arafah, we agreed that we would head to Arafah on Wukuf day itself.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2_BBSh1h26-lcwdUJFAjo5mY8CKIOL1U3N8r3ub4YxS5Opbcu1fswV2tpgJlM9CsoG5N2VULGh5tcuqtn4q2rSZxJgGFS5aRt0KTWOfUYL0inqmXrfRmjcpG9Kmq_5-g8rK_DmE2ZA5ZK/s1600/20150923_044440.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2_BBSh1h26-lcwdUJFAjo5mY8CKIOL1U3N8r3ub4YxS5Opbcu1fswV2tpgJlM9CsoG5N2VULGh5tcuqtn4q2rSZxJgGFS5aRt0KTWOfUYL0inqmXrfRmjcpG9Kmq_5-g8rK_DmE2ZA5ZK/s400/20150923_044440.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A near empty Haraam that night before wukuf. Most were already in Arafah, and we get to enjoy more solat time in front of Kaabah. It is a rare view by the Kaabah standard</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Coming back after asr prayer on 22nd, you can see how crowded the hotel lobby. Everyone is heading to Arafah. We quietly sat back and enjoy one more night at the Haraam, and a reasonably quiet and empty hotel that night.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Sept 23, 2015 - WUKUF DAY</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
So it was business as usual even in the morning of Wukuf Day with the dawn prayer and breakfast. My main concern for Wukuf then was still the toilet. So I had to make sure that I would minimize my use of those facilities in Arafah - do all your deeds in Makkah! The journey to Arafah, by traveling on Wukuf day itself, should be a breeze, so one part of my concern is no longer in the equation.</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi690xj_4pRjvXxOrfeB83MTbpvA2-YndPzK278crdMPg_3ku95QMHX9akGWUx9l9mSb5G3FPfPnUwiuuHwFzFJQiK4FfsPHOcZ4b-UFrHLA9Sq6cCR6UC1nZ3yfK97j7j_H_jJM7lm_91Z/s1600/20150923_064500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi690xj_4pRjvXxOrfeB83MTbpvA2-YndPzK278crdMPg_3ku95QMHX9akGWUx9l9mSb5G3FPfPnUwiuuHwFzFJQiK4FfsPHOcZ4b-UFrHLA9Sq6cCR6UC1nZ3yfK97j7j_H_jJM7lm_91Z/s320/20150923_064500.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An empty restaurant in the morning of Wukuf. Only the five of us. Not!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The time has finally arrived. Yes, D-Day, or technically it should be W-Day! Our Haj is finally here - it was a lifetime in the making. Donning our ihram, we headed to the tower basement to catch our transport to Arafah. It was close to 10 am when we left the hotel. I was nervous; we were at least 30 mins later than planned, but Zaki the driver is as cool as cucumber.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Zaki is a Pattani descent. He can speak the Kelantanese dialect, but he was born-and bred in Saudi, and even married a Saudi girl. He was our driver since the first day, but we were told that he has a rich family; his father owned a couple of hotels in Makkah.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But his job was to drive us around, and boy, was he a good one. There is no road off limit to a guy like Zaki.</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR3_RrRWH9D95wyowQI8lawkPmSBX-k2rf0SEEyyy-vC5O3W2JPDKtQB4BegCa3c-C_-NikWK3gdsXfyserOC7auzD9GVIocSuP9-ogu92V40HbxbvFE8ErXTMVciMpnMpV_0yk2vh2iiN/s1600/20150923_094544.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR3_RrRWH9D95wyowQI8lawkPmSBX-k2rf0SEEyyy-vC5O3W2JPDKtQB4BegCa3c-C_-NikWK3gdsXfyserOC7auzD9GVIocSuP9-ogu92V40HbxbvFE8ErXTMVciMpnMpV_0yk2vh2iiN/s400/20150923_094544.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Us and Ustaz Jufri just before the trip. All in our standard Haj uniform.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
So how long really it would take us to drive to Arafah from Makkah? Twelve (12) hour according to Roslan Ibrahim, The Metro newspaper reporter who wrote about his journey in his column. I have heard that it was 6 hours for many. Three to four hours is normal, on a good day, I guess</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
For us, leaving Makkah at 10.00 am, it was a beautiful drive to Arafah on an empty highway. Not a single vehicle on the road once we left Makkah. Padang Jarak Padang Tekukur. It would be a nightmare for PLUS, if I can say it here.</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixqTBoQ5_y7OLr-GSi4WL2kKHPWM29shOiMbXgUk2B4K9enPI5Rkol612FrFHkaX9W0QfTkcQ2AHtkEpwq3HKS8Ah9gxIuyiXoC9XonBBL0V8GVNatJc-AGfFusNaDdJN8lU5K_HVBMP_p/s1600/20150923_102732.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixqTBoQ5_y7OLr-GSi4WL2kKHPWM29shOiMbXgUk2B4K9enPI5Rkol612FrFHkaX9W0QfTkcQ2AHtkEpwq3HKS8Ah9gxIuyiXoC9XonBBL0V8GVNatJc-AGfFusNaDdJN8lU5K_HVBMP_p/s320/20150923_102732.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The white tent of Arafah</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg27od2bhIxkQqII8VPTTrJ1-XGHZYwLMwN6hjTaeF0Rexq4A_iF_9x4OIJ_aYvnS2emsde7MQGph7LNs8ASunChWN8SJH7Fs2X2QFbL6wEqQF3yVYJjaw8rxdCbA2EV54dI7bLHY1y5qsE/s1600/20150923_102910.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg27od2bhIxkQqII8VPTTrJ1-XGHZYwLMwN6hjTaeF0Rexq4A_iF_9x4OIJ_aYvnS2emsde7MQGph7LNs8ASunChWN8SJH7Fs2X2QFbL6wEqQF3yVYJjaw8rxdCbA2EV54dI7bLHY1y5qsE/s320/20150923_102910.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Empty roads leading to the tent</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqxm8e7nyCrl10FMqOXaVCdoYfn-NIQNlZ6N86sdeWNIimWw4951T4na_sjPxt9eQZC1hotuD8rgodgAk5pmgM8Cj7w0lATULwPW_2fpdb3pJ972L8hoti7isgpZ425ee-0o5133c0xmt_/s1600/20150923_102957.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqxm8e7nyCrl10FMqOXaVCdoYfn-NIQNlZ6N86sdeWNIimWw4951T4na_sjPxt9eQZC1hotuD8rgodgAk5pmgM8Cj7w0lATULwPW_2fpdb3pJ972L8hoti7isgpZ425ee-0o5133c0xmt_/s320/20150923_102957.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Entering Arafah</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Nobody was on the road.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I am sure Malaysian government would have to fork out millions of ringgit of compensation for the highway operator! Haha, you can call me Haji Sarcastic.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It took us a very long 45 mins to reach Arafah. With ample of time to spare from the start of wukuf, I was happy and I was relief. </div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaQRINUbezXHtvhkvT-AHP_l1dUv9hiZ9bw_LsN-xf4JoPOQnHmDGoD1A4_hD-y9yW8u2VJHuoTJDNVkdEA5_ttXZJxffuHBKVYNq3e5TIFcnViNwTQ_2wFn6o3nYrBgeoGTAUrp4Wlmjf/s1600/20150923_111053.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaQRINUbezXHtvhkvT-AHP_l1dUv9hiZ9bw_LsN-xf4JoPOQnHmDGoD1A4_hD-y9yW8u2VJHuoTJDNVkdEA5_ttXZJxffuHBKVYNq3e5TIFcnViNwTQ_2wFn6o3nYrBgeoGTAUrp4Wlmjf/s400/20150923_111053.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">But where is everybody?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But here-in lies the greatest challenge that I faced during my haj. Not the toilet; the toilet was clean; I can assure you of that. As good as you can get. I did not cringe when at the end of the wukuf time, I had to use one. It is so clean. A very fussy person on toilet cleanliness, I have no complaints in Arafah.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And there was no queue to talk about. You read it right. (Did I mention that it was also very clean?)</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCmTg_4Le9aL_TPyZv9OAdz1f7u_4aiC8N8A4boX6MQOgE3qDPI6TcarZOWdB_C2YDgQUSyUnfsTUHXbPSYlpn58fmbYfwzlKEYubgY7SVfn48-C3srBzqUJuFCy5Idg1ZsZ_6tKguEJ3v/s1600/Jamaah-antre-di-toilet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="198" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCmTg_4Le9aL_TPyZv9OAdz1f7u_4aiC8N8A4boX6MQOgE3qDPI6TcarZOWdB_C2YDgQUSyUnfsTUHXbPSYlpn58fmbYfwzlKEYubgY7SVfn48-C3srBzqUJuFCy5Idg1ZsZ_6tKguEJ3v/s320/Jamaah-antre-di-toilet.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Queues like this in Arafah? Nonsense. I did not even see two person queuing like in this picture. Taken from the net, with apology.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I had been told of numerous stories about the long queues, and the antics of people wanting to cut queue. At times, it can be hilarious, especially in hindsight. But I saw none of those. I did not have to queue at all when I went there to do my deeds. There were ample of toilets and behind our our tent, there was even a two-storey building housing multiple of them and they were mostly empty.<br />
<br />
Not many would like to climb stairs to go to the restroom.<br />
<br />
As for me, I did not know of its existence until the very end. </div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEUPjz1wyFEVspAHLnbgeokjsxzfX6nlshnyUzg6p8prRUZT2iOB1iUy-6-oYrH7SblDKbRghE4LkDXDka_Gq9J9HVFuQXlSRoj21BrCnESiINxqht6uBYCpw75FNYEIJ48dRu5bteJxCg/s1600/20150923_180931.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEUPjz1wyFEVspAHLnbgeokjsxzfX6nlshnyUzg6p8prRUZT2iOB1iUy-6-oYrH7SblDKbRghE4LkDXDka_Gq9J9HVFuQXlSRoj21BrCnESiINxqht6uBYCpw75FNYEIJ48dRu5bteJxCg/s400/20150923_180931.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our tent in the foreground and the two storey toilet in the background</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
To me, this is like a revelation. Wahyu dari Illahi in the days when there was no more wahyu; I hope it it is not blasphemous for saying so, God forbids. But you know what I mean. I was so afraid of that. I refrained myself from having lunch, and I minimized my water intake to ensure that I didn't have to go to the restroom. In the end, I had no problem with that facilities. All these years, I was reluctant to go for my haj; in the end, it was for nothing.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Allahu Akbar.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The longest queue I saw was for the ladies at the Indonesian camp. Probably four persons in a row - and there are probably ten toilets at that particular place. But that was it.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But something that I did not plan for was the heat. It was sauna-like condition at mid-day. In fact I think it was hotter than sauna. The temperature must have been at least 50 C, something I had not experienced and could not stand.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Metro reporter reported that the temperature during wukuf was a whopping 55 C.</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu2fuABVnNU7sll70xk3QFgpKt0Ai78Hl37a8u9payPNQkMh0d2EIikq1cCdvOH03IKwZzz3pPbR1lDvbWM6CGauuHCWah1MD8dUp1Out_Hjs_OcMXPyVenBOHOH8UdJ57sqWE-n1q4akO/s1600/20150923_143518.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu2fuABVnNU7sll70xk3QFgpKt0Ai78Hl37a8u9payPNQkMh0d2EIikq1cCdvOH03IKwZzz3pPbR1lDvbWM6CGauuHCWah1MD8dUp1Out_Hjs_OcMXPyVenBOHOH8UdJ57sqWE-n1q4akO/s400/20150923_143518.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">View of our tent in Arafah. IT was like being in a sauna, and I was never a fan of the sauna.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I could not stand the sauna condition in the tent. I was so stressed out - it felt like all energy has been drained out of me. My body temperature must have risen dramatically. I was spraying water to my face every 10 seconds, and wetted my hair and head in an effort to cool down. My hand squeezing the spray bottle was faster than my lips reciting the <i>zikr</i>.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It was no joke. I dreaded those moments, even today. My mind was shutting down. I could not concentrate on the tasks at hand; that is to do lots of <i>zikr </i>and <i>ibadah</i>.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It was something I did not prepare, but it was not something I could have prepared.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Counting back, I realize that it would take at least another 20 years for the Haj to be in the winter month of February. Wukuf in the middle of summer was hard. The sun was especially harsh in Arafah. There was no air conditioner; only water chiller. But then again, I guess, it is a prelude to Mahsyar. It would be a million time worse. Here in Arafah, we still value those around us. In Mahsyar, we will most likely ignore others. Everybody is in there for oneself only.<br />
<br />
I could not have waited to experience haj in winter - my age conspired against me doing that. I should have gone 10 years ago perhaps, when it was in December. </div>
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All in all I spent less than 7 hours in Arafah. Many had spent the whole day there; and night. I am not sure how they survived. I thought I could not stand the 7 hours I was there. I was feeling very weak, to be honest. In the end, I was just there to complete the Wukuf; nothing more, nothing less. I am not proud to admit.<br />
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I also did not see the seas of people like in Mahsyar. I guess we are further away from Jabal Rahmah, and I guess at mid-day I did not venture out at all. I was busy trying to survive. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxZ2W4T7zpNGJaHW6BI8NL0xIJQFNC0I4paLFpY8niqLaWjkKmpH4wFTHXKWtDmZ6nJRvXKKpdVP6XULlUgR54CAGv3MEcRe1fjWgZrwWYVofWWXocuQzzBnoNfu-ZATTuX2jkS3fIWR16/s1600/20150923_172629.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxZ2W4T7zpNGJaHW6BI8NL0xIJQFNC0I4paLFpY8niqLaWjkKmpH4wFTHXKWtDmZ6nJRvXKKpdVP6XULlUgR54CAGv3MEcRe1fjWgZrwWYVofWWXocuQzzBnoNfu-ZATTuX2jkS3fIWR16/s400/20150923_172629.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Many were doing their ibadat in the open in front of my tent. Those standing were doing the dua. This was after asr.</td></tr>
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However, as the day ends, the scorching sun tend to be a bit more gentle to us. More and more people came out of their tent to do their duas. Many were doing it in pairs husband and wife. It was a wonderful sight. Maksu later joined any group doing the duas, and probably were just "amin-ing" to all the duas.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgelbV3LeE_gR5kI8FpmY8272pVIeqE-nMsV6r3BtVf-UHQKjikM6YteoHS8JmKLa1aBzFr9k7AkjURLsgvdE0UDUW9OgNmJwuiB6svtvWVNgNqGqe1qiW0XhNEQoq05U14VODsiCc-CIA6/s1600/20150923_174038.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgelbV3LeE_gR5kI8FpmY8272pVIeqE-nMsV6r3BtVf-UHQKjikM6YteoHS8JmKLa1aBzFr9k7AkjURLsgvdE0UDUW9OgNmJwuiB6svtvWVNgNqGqe1qiW0XhNEQoq05U14VODsiCc-CIA6/s400/20150923_174038.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is our tent (left). That's my Paksu chatting with his best friend, an MAS pilot</td></tr>
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Towards the end, I walked a bit to see the surrounding. I saw the Korean tent, the Thai tent and the Indonesian ones. It is a mixed area. Many joined which ever groups were doing the duas, especially the Indonesian one since we can understand the language. But Islam is such a universal religion that it attracted people from the world over. You can see the diversity at Arafah.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Heli hovering high above us, as we approache maghrib in Arafah, and the end of Wukuf for 2015</td></tr>
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Through out the day, we had lots of helis hovering above. I was told - jokingly by my brother in law perhaps - that those were the VVVIP pilgrims doing their wukuf from high above!<br />
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And I believed him. </div>
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Obviously it was not, at least not according to my ustaz when I related to him the story. It was simply the security helis doing their rounds checking that everything was alright at Arafah.</div>
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To be honest, I did not get to see Arafah. I had no idea where Jabal Rahmah was in relation to my tent; not that there was a need for me to do my duas there, after all I was already in Arafah. I was busy keeping myself cool and dehydrated. 55C was a bit too challenging for me, and many had to be taken to the clinic for hydration, especially the old folks.</div>
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I came knowing well my limitation, and was praying hard that I can handle that. I had trained hard - physically, to keep myself fit - I was jogging daily the last month before Haj. But in the end Allah tested me with the hot weather, something beyond my limit.</div>
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I would not consider myself a weakling. But if the mid-day sun was any longer than it was that day, I am not sure I could be here writing. Boy, was I glad when it was over (or when the sun went down). I had survived Wukuf in Arafah, and with that too my haj.<br />
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Alhamdulillah.</div>
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By far, that was the biggest challenge of my haj.</div>
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Rahman Haririhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04474408822740473103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8277656418926255733.post-52266427841035653962015-11-17T07:35:00.003+08:002015-11-19T07:37:43.528+08:00Haj 2015 - Part II The Lull before the Storm<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: large;">20 Sept 2015</span><br />
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So I survived the trials and tribulations of the impending Haj. We still have three days left before wukuf, and we need to conserve our energy and get ourselves ready for the big day.</div>
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Fortunately we got a room at the clock tower, so our daily routine to attend the five time daily prayer was a real pleasure. Don't get me wrong,; I know that every step that we took count in the final countdown. But we are here for the last and final pillar of Islam, so we need to conserve our energy. I was told that many of us performed the daily solah at the respective hotel surau, due to conservation of energy theory. </div>
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And haj can only be performed in Makkah and nowhere else, and only at this time of the year.</div>
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Whatever we do, we have that at the back of our mind. Conserve energy. Our goal is haj.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1ScrD3FhBFl3Jz6FFxi96AXLNbPuHj76MXGcUPv-zZges-e6XohUyKLcGWuUEF1wGrpNYKbml3b-_vuuI0VfkwXV7PMtxmM-aksPQUTL25HUAPDSO-G-x9PWSHXPJMRJ4CVduqZWHhOFK/s1600/20150922_131255.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1ScrD3FhBFl3Jz6FFxi96AXLNbPuHj76MXGcUPv-zZges-e6XohUyKLcGWuUEF1wGrpNYKbml3b-_vuuI0VfkwXV7PMtxmM-aksPQUTL25HUAPDSO-G-x9PWSHXPJMRJ4CVduqZWHhOFK/s400/20150922_131255.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It is 45 C!</td></tr>
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We got contradicting verdicts about praying in our room; yes, you can and no, you can't. Depending on who you talked to. But we decided to follow the most conservative verdict, and went to the Haraam for every prayer. It was not much of a walk, to be honest.<br />
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Just that the midday sun can be challenging.The sun is so bright and the heat is harsh.</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Sept 21, 2015</span><br />
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But after taking a rest after the arrival debacle, I quickly contacted doc Judane to arrange for a mini reunion in Makkah. I knew beforehand that the three of them had arrived before me.</div>
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I found out that they were staying at Hotel Janadriyah, apparently owned by Tabung Haji. I am also told that TH HQ is also located at the same building. So this newly-arrived would have to visit the hosts, and not the other way round. I like to have the fun visiting people rather than waiting for them to come. Especially Judane has tempted me with teh tarik and roti canai!<br />
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Morning was typically an easy time for the pilgrims.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwDVChr_JB72cLA5yqBzdWgHB5L1LiuC8E-h1sABCj8zWmjh1TwX56EXJcxGiYVAURKWd6WeTAE-rTfMsk6f0qiFEnSzqxDSsc2SO7VT-cHX1_OJxnKhgvBEY-v0VLDV-SqWCN9nhk9eCG/s1600/20150921_081026.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwDVChr_JB72cLA5yqBzdWgHB5L1LiuC8E-h1sABCj8zWmjh1TwX56EXJcxGiYVAURKWd6WeTAE-rTfMsk6f0qiFEnSzqxDSsc2SO7VT-cHX1_OJxnKhgvBEY-v0VLDV-SqWCN9nhk9eCG/s400/20150921_081026.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Crane as captured by yours truly, on the way to Janadriyah HOtel</td></tr>
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It was a long walk from the clock tower. We passed by the side of Haraam, near the palace and the Safa and Marwah Saei route, and passed by the crane tragedy. No, it happened much early than my arrival, but the crane was still leaning by the Haaraam building. It was cordoned off for obvious reason, and according to ustaz JUfri, the construction team were in the midst of securing the crane when the sandstorm hit Makkah.</div>
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I guess had the sandstorm not hit Makkah, it would not have fell, or had the team completed their work, it would not have happened either. Tragedy or accident did not happen due to a single event, so I was told by Air Crash Investigation and Seconds before Disaster.</div>
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Soon we can see the Janadriyah hotel from afar. It has been a long walk, especially on a hot day. The picture was taken from Harrizam.blogspot.com without permission, with thanks. Apparently according to Judane, the hotel is 750 meter from The Marwah. It is quite possible, but it felt like a very long kilometre walk for me.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIZh9E6Ob6wzJ4LIhiE9Hv3BfqMGbHCsbrX5P8RDuYEsbFJmeoXWjt9CCX1fMv2WxvgCJxtctiJ1-YBvFGo9kIcwJ29NzxVAyI424aJxgeM7y0oMULasItTdPd1inkc6i0-gDRtv7RM5F1/s1600/DSCF0453+janadriyah.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIZh9E6Ob6wzJ4LIhiE9Hv3BfqMGbHCsbrX5P8RDuYEsbFJmeoXWjt9CCX1fMv2WxvgCJxtctiJ1-YBvFGo9kIcwJ29NzxVAyI424aJxgeM7y0oMULasItTdPd1inkc6i0-gDRtv7RM5F1/s400/DSCF0453+janadriyah.JPG" width="400" /></a></div>
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I was just looking forward to let loose in Makkah, after the incident the day before. Being with your schoolmates, one is allowed to be teenager again and be young again, albeit a young pious teen!</div>
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Hope I am bragging enough hahaha!</div>
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Soon, we were having teh tarik and roti canai by the side of the hotel. It is an older part of Makkah. It is perhaps more fun to be there than the mall at the clock tower.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAwvf_XyzxNtpqQ5_F7ecKyeXzOv9C2MKkunn6xeedRJaogVO2kGVwicUp-prUjQdyVsgESp-fXSWwp7koRUShtBZRzSzMAm4ueIy_cvC1E47rxmWl53bVC09QuaD8KGKpTF6eBWfA47N4/s1600/20150921_084626.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAwvf_XyzxNtpqQ5_F7ecKyeXzOv9C2MKkunn6xeedRJaogVO2kGVwicUp-prUjQdyVsgESp-fXSWwp7koRUShtBZRzSzMAm4ueIy_cvC1E47rxmWl53bVC09QuaD8KGKpTF6eBWfA47N4/s400/20150921_084626.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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It was quite a long meal, perhaps nearly two hours we were there. This is my 3rd trip to Makkah, and I never had so much fun chatting and reminiscing about the old day. I am sure we can talk about the same topic over and over again till the end of our lives.</div>
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As we said goodbye to each other, Judane had other idea. "Let's visit the 3rd Expansion," he said. Earlier Ustaz Jufri told us that they had just open that section of the new mosque (i.e. today, two days before wukuf).</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhgXj7o9LtYCQ7pqkYnJW8JU0gTA3ByEDaq-AoBbkkrElREsbrVX6j4WdBUb53wMm-P6-sW6meiqHa1xhw25PGMZR9nPhva5dNTLedsNPW4jpAA4s_m1OwGsRZbYIL9pJY9tzzAXxn855l/s1600/20150921_103056.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhgXj7o9LtYCQ7pqkYnJW8JU0gTA3ByEDaq-AoBbkkrElREsbrVX6j4WdBUb53wMm-P6-sW6meiqHa1xhw25PGMZR9nPhva5dNTLedsNPW4jpAA4s_m1OwGsRZbYIL9pJY9tzzAXxn855l/s400/20150921_103056.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">New open area to the pilgrim. Saudi 3rd expansion of the holy mosque</td></tr>
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I can assure you that it is like a Maharajah palace; a palace fit for an emperor, and it is fully aircondtioned. To be honest, one does not need hotel anymore. I can stay in the mosque all day long, and I guess many did.</div>
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The ablution and toilet area are within the mosque, I guess at the basement, so one need not have to go outside to do the needful.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq4F7kmSo_zAa7umlhx-ONLnT7JJaQqPqUvmSf7c9JbdtVy0fVb0jeKldHbGJL5GWpBVI-IYVCKXGRcUid7ig0thjsrd_QChYTrStmpfaKNLNqmKMRF7tKIK9Ww6dCJCMy-0JyaNrr0pb3/s1600/20150921_103209.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq4F7kmSo_zAa7umlhx-ONLnT7JJaQqPqUvmSf7c9JbdtVy0fVb0jeKldHbGJL5GWpBVI-IYVCKXGRcUid7ig0thjsrd_QChYTrStmpfaKNLNqmKMRF7tKIK9Ww6dCJCMy-0JyaNrr0pb3/s320/20150921_103209.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The entrance</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgntDTHwPmFKHCOZPTOQYbMeaf7ECoBVAMeZBsnu8xAt8QC3E1IXUNwan2ICLXo1KygeFZnMSu3dmdkBSi18lsVM4aFlKcrTDUbygpxDbqh7VyUnBUzPngeb605ptwmmRD8DAAND_vVDUM6/s1600/20150921_103300.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgntDTHwPmFKHCOZPTOQYbMeaf7ECoBVAMeZBsnu8xAt8QC3E1IXUNwan2ICLXo1KygeFZnMSu3dmdkBSi18lsVM4aFlKcrTDUbygpxDbqh7VyUnBUzPngeb605ptwmmRD8DAAND_vVDUM6/s320/20150921_103300.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The corridor</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYPeWtJEi9oukzZA3r8KB57in_5GIzaaVHMc79msh3GKEmuRVpVElhwwzI6kthY_OJFgQEtR1TpQbZw-LGYzmu32zQfJxEuiKnBZDdkf8IlAjGEk4zzccNCeByvJ71vPP88pu94m-f71Hk/s1600/20150921_103644.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYPeWtJEi9oukzZA3r8KB57in_5GIzaaVHMc79msh3GKEmuRVpVElhwwzI6kthY_OJFgQEtR1TpQbZw-LGYzmu32zQfJxEuiKnBZDdkf8IlAjGEk4zzccNCeByvJ71vPP88pu94m-f71Hk/s320/20150921_103644.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
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Beautiful, isn't it? Though it goes against my belief of the need to be luxurious. But there is a need to be comfortable.<br />
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After exploring the new section, we decided to for tawaf sunat using the circular mataf. It is a long walk to find the ramp to enter the mataf and one can't do it within the mosque itself. One would have to walk to near the At-Tawhid to go to the top mataf. But we only found the entrance to the top mataf, which was uncovered.</div>
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And that's what we did at 11 am which to my mind was the peak of the noon sun. </div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeNLd9X1GFfiOA1WTkSllyxOyO5nfA_uSBmx6MtlFg3hqV1ms1XeeuJbZc32b0Y_Ufoi8zelu9ITuYwQQPWdMItsUhGERkLYduQkKXThSIs6EI9ibW-dJbS98GVsv2YIiqfktR9nAPQfLU/s1600/20150921_113925.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeNLd9X1GFfiOA1WTkSllyxOyO5nfA_uSBmx6MtlFg3hqV1ms1XeeuJbZc32b0Y_Ufoi8zelu9ITuYwQQPWdMItsUhGERkLYduQkKXThSIs6EI9ibW-dJbS98GVsv2YIiqfktR9nAPQfLU/s400/20150921_113925.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view from the top Mataf at 11 am on Sept 21, two days before wukuf</td></tr>
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Judane obviously was very fit. It goes without saying for this lecturer of public health at USM. YOurs truly obviously weren't; I can barely keep up with him. But the sun was just above our head and the vinyl flooring of the mataf made it worse, since there is no roofing. We have nowhere to hide, but continue our seven circumbulation. </div>
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I can tell you the flooring is very hot; I keep on walking on the shade of the metal siding. Since the sun was nearly overhead, the shadow is very narrow, but it helped. You can feel that the floor covered by the shade is much cooler. It barely cover the tenth of a single foot, but I can assure that you would take anything to relieve you from the scorching sun.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Xymw2hDFQoAcK_T3K4tWW-WnkkbuIFMM-bpUVPY16xnVDNHSASn29klswmTLIpIs0eYVOj6V6Zx1fTXe1oGWUvNveExPiGYQlRedPnRF2muR36yVbaG9fHMlgYs3l8loJweV1y_Ouxhg/s1600/20150921_113902.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2Xymw2hDFQoAcK_T3K4tWW-WnkkbuIFMM-bpUVPY16xnVDNHSASn29klswmTLIpIs0eYVOj6V6Zx1fTXe1oGWUvNveExPiGYQlRedPnRF2muR36yVbaG9fHMlgYs3l8loJweV1y_Ouxhg/s320/20150921_113902.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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In the end, I had blister on my foot, and I was walking with a slight limp due to that blister. I was getting nervous if this continued on - I know I need to do a lot of walking and now I am limping. May be, I told myself later, I should not have done it.</div>
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But with friend, you found that extra energy to do things one would not do alone.</div>
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By the time we completed our tawaf, it was zuhr and we quickly get out and went to the saei area and did our zuhr there and then parted company.</div>
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Now limping, I went on a zam-zam water drinking spree and with each glass of water, I was praying hard to Him; asking him for a full recovery from my blister. And He heard me.</div>
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By the time we were ready for Wukuf, I walking normally again.</div>
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We were two days away from wukuf.<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">EPILOGUE</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">I never had experienced such extreme temperature in my life. Not in Melbourne, not in Houston. At least I don't remember it. The worst I had experienced was Feb in Perth, just prior to my my leaving for uni life in Melbourne.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">It was a hot day, with the fan in full swing in that Beatty Park apartment in Perth. Still, we could not stand it, so I suggested to open the window to let the air in. Upon opening the window, a gush of air hit my face. It was furnace hot. I quickly close back the window.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">And we satiated ourselves with indoor air.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">Later on I found that the peak temperature that day was 44 C! </span></div>
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Rahman Haririhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04474408822740473103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8277656418926255733.post-70406870998227369082015-11-15T22:09:00.000+08:002015-11-20T18:21:44.572+08:00Haj 2015 : Part I The Tribulations<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipVyjzKH5qz1G6XUynRSFNqaxTYLRJF_AKJgnT27dsa0LfT-03ekH29-zzmtEm1wwcBXTTEaYt7Gv_XDpakBew_K0VkJfkMwhz5DxROvnmEQjia8to93TsVhaVfILjAE8FuL3shyphenhyphen-_Rlmb/s1600/12032232_900351710019384_246031360783440152_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipVyjzKH5qz1G6XUynRSFNqaxTYLRJF_AKJgnT27dsa0LfT-03ekH29-zzmtEm1wwcBXTTEaYt7Gv_XDpakBew_K0VkJfkMwhz5DxROvnmEQjia8to93TsVhaVfILjAE8FuL3shyphenhyphen-_Rlmb/s320/12032232_900351710019384_246031360783440152_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">PROLOGUE </span></div>
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">I thought I would never be able to complete the fifth, and final, pillar of Islam.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">Just imagine 2 to 3 million people converging to the same city at the same time, and making it worse, to the same locality (village, if you must). Imagine our North-South hiway being inundated with thousands of buses carrying these millions of pilgrims. Imagine if KLCC were the masjidil haraam, we need to ferry these people to, say, Shah Alam; take Shah Alam as Arafah.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">At the same time!</span><br />
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">Then
from Shah Alam, on the same night, bring them over to Petaling Jaya
(Mudzalifah) and then onward to Cheras (Mina), and house them all there
for 3 nights. How long do you think that simple journey from would
take? And beyond that, I can't imagine how the facilities can cope with these people.
Tens of thousands of people need to relieve themselves; beyond the
foods, the drinks, everything else that they would need.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">What if the journey took hours to reach the destination. There are cases of journey that took more than 6 hours; even 12 hours were being reported by Kosmo journalist for the 2015 Haj. I was told that several years ago one bus even got lost, but luckily arrived just in time for the Wukuf. THe journey had started the day before!</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnnRIK0qWQtyrM1qebpIezctRx9tenv4NWBPumQHxa3ioaovhSqqsi_v42u8742rLilo9aQ0UX6kVs4rhWYX3nL17t6Dac-ebEJaKk7xEaH2sQCIAkyOcNoST6dZDweOpi2h8sXlHqH6bY/s1600/20150921_202712.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnnRIK0qWQtyrM1qebpIezctRx9tenv4NWBPumQHxa3ioaovhSqqsi_v42u8742rLilo9aQ0UX6kVs4rhWYX3nL17t6Dac-ebEJaKk7xEaH2sQCIAkyOcNoST6dZDweOpi2h8sXlHqH6bY/s320/20150921_202712.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The after-isya crowd</td></tr>
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">We could not even even handle the yearly exodus of balik kampung; that too through the length and breadth of the peninsular, so the space is much more than the Haj! </span></div>
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">More than twenty years ago, I remember giving Mak half of my last bonus with PETRONAS for her to go for Haj (circa 1994). At that point in time, it did not cross my mind to offer myself to take her for the haj. The calling for me was not there yet. I should have though. I am sure I was entitled to get the Haj leave and it would be much easier for both mom and son.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">I was then in my early 30s; young enough to do haj, but I guess then career came first (in hindsight, I do regret for not being there with Mak).</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">I confided in a good friend An - after visiting him and her wife Liza upon completing their haj, that I cannot comprehend myself competing with the other 2 millions muslim brothers and sisters for my share of space in the Holy Land. I cannot stand dirty toilets; in fact, I abhor dirty toilets. I know it is an uphill task to ensure cleanliness dealing with such big crowd from all parts of the world. I hate having to queue up to get my business done in the morning; or queue for my food, like I was in school again.</span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqyS4CzMyocPxCkpxeuS4ElbEqC5QQ3p1ZhPDvgdePDGdRvbZhWtcaskyf6m9Z5yISeGRWFVQUfNGfIudgNLdcebn5AmfVstHO9Zls_gP32_F2JXanB-FjkACAr4tC0PfAaULeNd7iwlsf/s1600/Jamaah-antre-di-toilet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="198" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqyS4CzMyocPxCkpxeuS4ElbEqC5QQ3p1ZhPDvgdePDGdRvbZhWtcaskyf6m9Z5yISeGRWFVQUfNGfIudgNLdcebn5AmfVstHO9Zls_gP32_F2JXanB-FjkACAr4tC0PfAaULeNd7iwlsf/s320/Jamaah-antre-di-toilet.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: #cfe2f3;">Taken from the net</span></span></td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: #cfe2f3;">And I don't really like big crowds; I hate noises. I seldom go to a place with crowd - fair, open-air concerts are not my cup of tea. I don't mind them if they are well organized, and people are orderly.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: #cfe2f3;">And I hate being stranded in a bus for hours.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: black;"><span style="color: #cfe2f3;">How do I go to the mosque when I need to be there 1-2 hours before prayer time; can the mosque cope with the millions of us? What will happen to my sleeping hours?</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">So these were partially reasons why I have not completed my haj going into 5-series. Reasons, I would say, but more like excuses, if I were to be honest and blunt. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">And to make matter worse, the line of people queuing up for haj keeps on getting longer and longer. Actually my turn would come in 2041; may be long after I was dead. They need to wake me up in my grave, I joked with friends. Stale joke, I must add.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">It is with the background, I started my Haj journey in 2015 after failing to get a visa for two consecutive years. It seems that the journey in 2015 is much more real. Things seems to be moving in the right direction from the start. The travel agent was very positive that we will get our visa, especially that for my uncle - a Korean airline captain, who could only return a couple of days before actual departure to have his passport stamped with Haj visa.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">MY JOURNEY - Part 1 (The Tribulations)</span></div>
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A week before departure, I was still unsure if I am going. Deep in me, I felt something was not right. May be I should not be going/ May I should postponed my trip? Would Allah accept me to be His guest this time around? Go next year may be. I am not sure why. I was so fickle minded the last few days.<br />
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The first test of the journey came without warning, and I did contemplate cancelling/postponing the trip because of it.<br />
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I had hemorrhoids a few days before departure!<br />
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It was painful, to be honest. As I had mentioned, I have had issues with the toilets in Makkah and Madinah, and He tested me before I even set my foot in Makkah itself. With hemorrhoids, my apprehension with toilet cleanliness and the state of affair in relieving oneself went to another level, something beyond me to comprehend the tribulation I was facing.<br />
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He knew my dilemma and weakness, and I was being tested to the fullest. I knew I should have kept my view to myself!<br />
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So I rushed to see my GP and he assured me that by giving me the best hemorrhoids medicines, including antibiotic and something for you to shove into you know where [sigh], I should be ok i.e. no surgery would be needed. But would I recover enough to go on the journey?<br />
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"InsyaAllah, just make sure you do not carry your luggage yourself. Use porter to assist you, and do take the medications I gave you," the doc told me.<br />
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The day before the flight, I was still talking on this subject matter with another schoolmate Haji Rosli Harun. "Man," he said, "go and see this doctor in Puchong and I can guarantee you in ten minutes you would be fine." It was a lengthy conversation as he tried to convince me to take the bull by its horn. He has done his haj; he knew I may have problems performing the haj with hemorrhoids.<br />
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But Friday (18th Sept) was the last day of packing for me. Since I had just moved to a new home, and with the flight tomorrow I knew I didn't have the time to visit the doctor in Puchong. There were just so many things to do.<br />
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I decided to leave my fate in His hand. <i>Redha</i> is the proper islamic term and concept; I would take it as such. I thought after all my apprehensions about going for Haj all these years, I deserved it.<br />
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May He forgives all my sins.</div>
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So I only completed my packing the night before the flight, and the pain of hemorrhoids has not really subsided by then. It has improved, but it was still there and it was still painful.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMoHTh45wRQonqRpVGsjWA5tWb-_kUekI7C1XLD1AGJLet2askQjUpsyoUB_AJusS_RVerY8JV6QqcNPOIZqzbLOGbzcI3noz_qCe8ZczKZEFjEolKY9EzJuqiDey0mRMo0pIKx0kr7A89/s1600/20150919_143357.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMoHTh45wRQonqRpVGsjWA5tWb-_kUekI7C1XLD1AGJLet2askQjUpsyoUB_AJusS_RVerY8JV6QqcNPOIZqzbLOGbzcI3noz_qCe8ZczKZEFjEolKY9EzJuqiDey0mRMo0pIKx0kr7A89/s320/20150919_143357.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The flight was full so much so we did not get what we wanted, but we were happy to be on-board</td></tr>
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So we did not have the best of start, to be honest. But things went ok at the airport and the flight. The food was not great, as we were always served last, due to our seating location, so whatever meals we wanted would have been gone by then, but it was no big deal. The flight was smooth, no heavy turbulence; it was an immemorable flight.<br />
<br />
The way I like it.<br />
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But as I was tested the week before departure, my apprehension of the journey came to its full manifestations. 16 hours after landing in Jeddah, we have yet to step our feet at the hotel. In fact, we were left stranded in some not-so-remote part of Makkah for nearly 3 hours, next to a dump area. In fact, we have no clue as to our location. This is not what I had bargained for. We knew the clock tower is somewhere behind the hills, and were looking forward to rest in our hotel, but the bus would not budge, and would not take us to our destination. </div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6xKtkAZJS7p48SJO1tn2X5HkTlogJ9-zdwUkzmktjLlLnYdSThjLVx5NLerfZ2SFgHbhDKHJf7OduTt3oeqczpn72IMiJM5GTSr1Z_kvqjI5WYU70aNn2GD9j1_J8r_6mHJypt9KC6P4P/s1600/20150920_044109.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6xKtkAZJS7p48SJO1tn2X5HkTlogJ9-zdwUkzmktjLlLnYdSThjLVx5NLerfZ2SFgHbhDKHJf7OduTt3oeqczpn72IMiJM5GTSr1Z_kvqjI5WYU70aNn2GD9j1_J8r_6mHJypt9KC6P4P/s320/20150920_044109.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Where on the signboard that it says Maktab 68? This was taken about 1 hour after arrival. It was still dark</td></tr>
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Later on we found out that we were supposed to register ourselves at Maktab 68 prior to going to our hotel. The irony was that we were at Maktab 68, but we didn't know about it. There was no indication that that building was indeed Maktab 68 - either in Arabic or the Roman alphabets. Since we didn't register, the bus can't leave with us on-board. But nobody told us until much later what were supposed to happen for us to continue our journey to the hotel.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjznwH8COjaVTxGORB54AlGwWxk-9wj1ild_YowcHuBwF3ts6-g3IlIM36knQWS04W4kDyy7cpVqfrQLNuLOAEqMq4tEiw167bA466EUaBXKeLHqRlcOYqU751gdmTPQEzofJ6iuNl93rDJ/s1600/20150920_060652.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjznwH8COjaVTxGORB54AlGwWxk-9wj1ild_YowcHuBwF3ts6-g3IlIM36knQWS04W4kDyy7cpVqfrQLNuLOAEqMq4tEiw167bA466EUaBXKeLHqRlcOYqU751gdmTPQEzofJ6iuNl93rDJ/s320/20150920_060652.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It is a new day dawning. Maktab 68 is the second building on the left</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Our agent was nowhere to be seen.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9VJDc6EcNNVl70dead94HThehi-M6K7B0BhRamXiBPEGoMTLmDPgft1AD7htkEWiEDUq7EGR37ZxVd27UGtV7yjlBUAHvo01X0vCRjWVy-aF6abKiJYiXK3ZhOA_SnUXs5yoSluy3hQI8/s1600/20150920_060713.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9VJDc6EcNNVl70dead94HThehi-M6K7B0BhRamXiBPEGoMTLmDPgft1AD7htkEWiEDUq7EGR37ZxVd27UGtV7yjlBUAHvo01X0vCRjWVy-aF6abKiJYiXK3ZhOA_SnUXs5yoSluy3hQI8/s320/20150920_060713.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stranded by dump site.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
After two hours waiting in the bus, an Indonesian guy approached us and asked us about our destination, and informed us that we need to register ourselves, before we could go to hotel. They can't leave with us on-board. Now we know what we have to do; so I went to an office inside the building and register our group.<br />
<br />
(Later on, we offered him some compensation for finally solving our predicament, but he declined.)<br />
<br />
However, the guy handling the registration were quite obnoxious, to be honest. A Thai national from southern Thai, he chided me for not coming up to register upon arriving earlier. But who would have known; nobody informed us of that procedure. I bluntly told him that this is my first haj, so how would I have known the procedures. Should they not come down and tell us what to do instead?<br />
<br />
"Who is going to pay for this registration?" he asked me, looking very stern. Pay? Nobody said anything about having to pay anything in Makkah. We had paid our dues to the agent and I was not about to fork out a single riyal to him. I told him so. <br />
<br />
I can be nasty and I am sure I can quite sarcastic, but my mind was set on doing haj and being His guest, so I controlled my emotion and just say enough to get us out of jail, so to speak.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
I was there as His (special) guest, and these people want to make life difficult with procedures, as if that we are seasoned Haj travelers, when they are there to assist.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
So arriving at that location at 4 am in the morning, we were there until 7 am. Next to a garbage dump. It was a testing time for us; a real test to our patience. We were hungry by then, and some of us had missed our dawn prayer.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq4_15b9iEqhOfPaXxkAGxrJOi5-HPGNZhukAM9-2ULGdRNCqS3u4048FgYmkIGyAz-GH_rkEtCczaBqT2no1MyEhgWeFHPfAYEHNE1tANoDLegZGwFaPP8FxdE3S7uqd704K_9KOSpeJj/s1600/20150920_063916.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhq4_15b9iEqhOfPaXxkAGxrJOi5-HPGNZhukAM9-2ULGdRNCqS3u4048FgYmkIGyAz-GH_rkEtCczaBqT2no1MyEhgWeFHPfAYEHNE1tANoDLegZGwFaPP8FxdE3S7uqd704K_9KOSpeJj/s320/20150920_063916.jpg" width="179" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The agent Hj Amin arriving to pick us up</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtMeegYz-Gk3ZIh9jxo6TgY3UHNG6KhhVAKdZS3gdsWd9Fx8rQmHIFhoW1K8Hxy170AH3lfNdcEibtaLw2gPaYuoaNJNX8ujBSa3cQLEU5dtK8gaqrIasQQqJUsJ99Fijkn9OcFsZ9xkzm/s1600/20150920_063914.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtMeegYz-Gk3ZIh9jxo6TgY3UHNG6KhhVAKdZS3gdsWd9Fx8rQmHIFhoW1K8Hxy170AH3lfNdcEibtaLw2gPaYuoaNJNX8ujBSa3cQLEU5dtK8gaqrIasQQqJUsJ99Fijkn9OcFsZ9xkzm/s320/20150920_063914.jpg" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Haji Halim went to buy breakfast</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
It was after 7 am only our travel agent Hj Amin arrived at the scene; we were furious, and he was apologizing profusely to us. We had paid him good money and we were not ready to accept excuses for failing to deliver. People had committed crimes all in the name of Islam; and some even sold God's name for their own shortcomings, and not deliver what they had promised to deliver. This was not as bad, but we have heard too many stories of travel agent failing to deliver their part of the bargain to the pilgrims and they gladly sold Allah's name to silent any dissent.<br />
<br />
Not the best of start, but then we were in our ihram and just want to complete our umrah as soon as possible. I believe we checked in by 0900 hours - 12 hours after landing and went on to complete our umrah before zuhr time. We finally can rest and reflect.<br />
<br />
It was four days before wukuf.<br />
<br />
We can only pray that we will have no more hiccups and blunders by the agent, and I just hope my hemorrhoids would subside quickly.<br />
<br />
The haj has not even started and yet I felt like I was being tested to the fullest already. I hope it was not a sign of things to come.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
But I had my reward early on too. Contacting my former schoolmates who were already in Makkah, after settling down at my hotel, we quickly set a teh-tarik-roti-canai reunion session at Tabung Haji HQ. It was a beautiful reunion at holy land. I had not met Art Imam since we left Maktab at the end of 1980, so I had not seen him for 35 years. I had met and talked to Judane more frequently than MatLee, but seeing friends at the holy land - you can beat that joyness.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpjFi28pO7I1s99zoJNPHdoxRYEce5tZXgdkXMzN-6bAWWXV72qiPN89NWVBBTB3Ifx20R-W2Tey-xFi7G_dUJ5nJtqY7vOXGOUrt4y2tHpzp_nU9E4QJOaHMDViUBsL1vjd9rU1pvShyphenhyphenE/s1600/20150921_084620.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpjFi28pO7I1s99zoJNPHdoxRYEce5tZXgdkXMzN-6bAWWXV72qiPN89NWVBBTB3Ifx20R-W2Tey-xFi7G_dUJ5nJtqY7vOXGOUrt4y2tHpzp_nU9E4QJOaHMDViUBsL1vjd9rU1pvShyphenhyphenE/s400/20150921_084620.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Simple meal on the pavement for former schoolmates</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I was not posing for the pictures. I was just happy to be among friends; that's all. Life is full of tribulations, the reward was worth the effort. Doc Judane arrived on the 16th, 3 days before I did, and he was still in his ihram. Good on ya, doc. I have to tabik spring for him!<br />
<br />
I was only prepared to do the normal (tammattu) haj.<br />
<br />
By this time too, all my tribulations earlier have been forgotten. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
(to be continued...)<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">EPILOGUE</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">I am a bit apprehensive to write about my experience at Haj, to be honest. It is after all my personal journey, and not something to be told to strangers, especially if one were not asked. It is a story to be told verbally to close friends only.I had never written about my umrah beyond visiting some old and ancient site near Madinah.</span></div>
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">But I relented after reading the journey of Metro journalist Roslan Ibrahim (12 November 2015) entitled Arafah-Makkah 12 Jam).I thought I have a story to tell and I think I would like to encourage others to take up the Haj as soon as possible.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">And please forgive me if I sound like bragging. May Allah forgives me.</span></div>
</div>
Rahman Haririhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04474408822740473103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8277656418926255733.post-31469235780552387842015-07-25T13:19:00.001+08:002015-07-27T07:36:14.968+08:00The Search for a New Home - Part 1<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNcfv_FLX8dkVk3jZobrKgSRrSDJCrR6nJLFFWP-3holNHaSxzXRAtgHIG98-NHQfSab4rhL8V3oieQFnDx1oDXanBCR1HF5hpNOgqqtD2SuEcQcIweu0j0V9O5vMrO5lHI8VtXjQMOGGd/s1600/btho3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNcfv_FLX8dkVk3jZobrKgSRrSDJCrR6nJLFFWP-3holNHaSxzXRAtgHIG98-NHQfSab4rhL8V3oieQFnDx1oDXanBCR1HF5hpNOgqqtD2SuEcQcIweu0j0V9O5vMrO5lHI8VtXjQMOGGd/s400/btho3.jpg" width="265" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">PROLOGUE</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">After 13 years of living in the same house - the longest ever, I got itchy again and started looking for another house.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">Many factors are involved in making the move; some of which I could reveal here, but some are better left untold. What I could reveal here is that the present house is the longest duration I had ever stayed in my life. When we were kids, every five to 6 years, bapak would be transferred to another location, so we never got to stay at a location long enough.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">Taiping 195x</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">Batu Gajah 196x </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">Lenggong 1968-1972 (3 houses)</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">Taiping 1973 - 1978 (3 houses)</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">Kuala Kangsar 1979-1984 (3 houses)</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">Taiping 1984~ </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">Same with my adulthood.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">Taiping 1986-1987</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">Kerteh 1988-1992 (3 houses)</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">KL- 1992=1993 </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">Melaka 1994</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">Johor Bahru 194-1995</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">KL 1995-1998 (2 houses)</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">Houston - 1998-1999</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">KL 2000~ (2 houses)</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">From here on, I would have to break it down to specific suburbs within Kuala Lumpur.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">2000 Taman Kosas Ampang</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">2001 Hussein Onn</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">and we moved in into our present home in 2002.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">Thirteen years have passed and now we are on the move again. This is basically the story of our search for a (new) home. This is for our own record, 20 years from now.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The Search was on</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVIEOFOolahfK_LSVef0crPOinkvqXmQN0Mmup_0veYOWGTHI4TAl_mr3FYSUDX-qQrL7FVV1v3UG2KQfrgM4yXCDZ1Se1WF8Mou3WvuzPzPqb6gWXJt-Gi3H1CtKKoRIkK0UndkV8kU-a/s1600/btho4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVIEOFOolahfK_LSVef0crPOinkvqXmQN0Mmup_0veYOWGTHI4TAl_mr3FYSUDX-qQrL7FVV1v3UG2KQfrgM4yXCDZ1Se1WF8Mou3WvuzPzPqb6gWXJt-Gi3H1CtKKoRIkK0UndkV8kU-a/s320/btho4.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We have gotten used to Hussein Onn and the surrounding area. Nothing fancy or to shout about, it is not exactly a posh area of KUala Lumpur. Cheras is not known to be just that. But it is located to the South side of Kuala Lumpur, and with Arif frequenting the airport on a daily basis, it is not too bad a location for us as a family. He does not have to enter town. It is better than being located in Ampang, or Selayang on the Northern side of Kuala Lumpur.<br />
<br />
The same goes for me. I work on the South side of KL too. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
So we had chosen the right location to live as our lives evolve.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxpI1c4Em-iZlumocYx2ulAnmlwJsbDT3arFpBDsNIJrbWOyWzKm3KlN5G2rVl-ggijuaP5TzgezAbUV40WTkee9dX6M2mF_SxfjyskcbfrsnGCo4GpGZUS9aSRBf8KiIoHxn0HsVXZ737/s1600/btho2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxpI1c4Em-iZlumocYx2ulAnmlwJsbDT3arFpBDsNIJrbWOyWzKm3KlN5G2rVl-ggijuaP5TzgezAbUV40WTkee9dX6M2mF_SxfjyskcbfrsnGCo4GpGZUS9aSRBf8KiIoHxn0HsVXZ737/s400/btho2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But more importantly, this is where Mak permanently lies. Mak's grave, that is. I just could not think of moving out of Cheras. I could consider location within 5-10 mins of Mak's grave, but I could never leave her alone in this area. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
So Shah Alam, Damansara, Ampang, Gombak are out of question. With that in mind, I scoured all of Cheras area. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
MRT is coming to Hussein Onn and Kajang; it is at our doorsteps. We could not go wrong to live here. It is not as expensive as PJ/Damansara and should have similar amenities, if not better. It may not have the The Curve, but I don't need the The Curve or even IKEA in my life.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We have everything that we need within 15-20 min drive. More importantly, it would be less than 15 mins to visit Mak anytime of the day. That's good incentive for us to stay in Cheras.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxnBlfWIYd0kgsAZBLlgUoGCeMbU9y0QftrY_cgKKkfTIam43OfRqT5CPjISuQ4MqD6OdAJwATEdOMFXuiLD6Hxk-Uu0mEF2RXSY6_4k6QGHk2uPmuccnjU09SCc7cRU1Err1eZfc2fuFD/s1600/btho5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxnBlfWIYd0kgsAZBLlgUoGCeMbU9y0QftrY_cgKKkfTIam43OfRqT5CPjISuQ4MqD6OdAJwATEdOMFXuiLD6Hxk-Uu0mEF2RXSY6_4k6QGHk2uPmuccnjU09SCc7cRU1Err1eZfc2fuFD/s320/btho5.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
So we shortlisted these areas:</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
1. Hussein Onn</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
2. Sg Long and Surrounding</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
If we were to stay put in Hussein Onn, we are 2-3 mins away from Mak. If we decide to move to Sg Long, we could still be within 10-15 mins away from her. Either way it is a win-win situation. I would not feel so guilty in moving.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But I also knew I have 13 years of memories here in this house. Mak also frequently used to stay for weeks at my home, so we all do feel sad if we need to leave this house. The kids grew up in this house obviously, so I am sure they would be more sentimental than I would. But we have outgrown this house. We need more privacy and quieter place. We need more rooms and space, not just for guests, but for ourselves too. We need a family living hall - a place we can all lepak - and not worry having to tidy it up to in receive guests; we need an audio room. We need an expanse area for the eyes, rather than being blocked by houses on all four corners. As if one is living in a shoebox.<br />
<br />
But we don't really need a very big garden that I would find difficult to maintain on my own. It would be nice though, but it is not a requirement.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But I have to admit. Nothing is ideal. We could not get all the specs we need within a single home. There would always be shortcoming. House is a bit too small, the road leading to the house runs through a run-down area, morning might be jammed up a bit etc. We might not even like the tiles used.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But I guess we can be fussy about what we want. And I guess I could decide to build my own. But I don't have the time or the strength to go through building my own home.<br />
<br />
So the search is on. </div>
</div>
Rahman Haririhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04474408822740473103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8277656418926255733.post-29066580766104263882015-07-05T09:41:00.002+08:002015-07-05T13:53:48.157+08:00Revisiting Twenty Year Old (Lost) Shares<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
PROLOGUE </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Take care of everything that you own. Or else, somebody would enjoy it on your behalf.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
In the 90s, I came to know through my uncle that his dad - my Tok Bab - owned a few acres of land in Kuala Kubu Baru. We were sure that the land is worth millions now. Even if they are not, they would be worth a small fortune.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But with his demise, where would I even start?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Similarly, we know that my maternal grandma also owned a few acres of land in Lenggeng, but who am I to start digging about all these properties? After all, her children - my aunties and uncles - are still alive and they should be the one who would be interested to get their hands on their mother's properties. I am after all, just a grandchildren.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
As of now, someone else would be enjoying them.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<u>PETRONAS Shares Twenty years on.</u></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It is with this in mind that I started to dig into my own affairs to ensure my children would not face such dilemma. That everything that I own are known to them and are documented, and they would not have to fight with anybody to enjoy the benefit of the father's labour.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
When I was working for an oil company, I was given two lots of an subsidiary that was listed that particular year. It was probably circa 93/94, I don't remember the exact year, to be honest. But soon after, I resigned and moved South, living in JB but working in Singapore.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
With the hectic work schedule, and pace, coupled with the long commute, I had no choice but concentrate on my work and forget about the trivial stuff. Then I moved back to KL and later on the family move to Houston.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I have not forgotten about the shares I own, but at RM2.50 a piece, and not seeing them move much, I would prefer to not even think about it. I might as well try to earn more money elsewhere than trying to create a fortune from the small number of shares that I have. I knew the broker firm that I had signed on has long cease operation, and being someone not in the financial industry, I have no clue where to even start.<br />
<br />
The shares were in the back of mind. Important, but not critical to my life.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Until early 2015 when I went to an investment seminar at the behest of my partner. While having my tea with a broker, I told him that while I am inactive in shares, I probably have a couple of thousand shares of Petronas, which I bought at the original price or at discounted staff price.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The broker told me that in Sept 2014, they were worth RM34.00, I am told. A whopping RM34.00 per share, but now it was worth RM16.00.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Really? I was surprised, and excited. Now I am interested to retrieve my shares. I really am interested. It is worth half of what it was 3 months ago, but still a lot more than what I had paid for them.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Fortunately, the broker at MIB was kind enough to dig as to who took over the operations of my broking firm. A couple of phone calls and a visit to their HQ, the problem is solved. I was given a new account, with my shares intact. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Alhamdulillan, and in the meantime, it is now worth at least RM20.00. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But what about all the dividends that were paid the past twenty years? I had not gotten any. I no longer lived in my registered address. I was all over the place. There had been too many homes, and houses that I had lived in. They would not know where to get hold of me.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I had to contact the company that handles PETRONAS shares. Symphony was kind enough to dig into their own record from 1995. Even with today's MIS and all the wonderful software applications, not all have been updated into their database. Mind you, the early to mid-90s, it was just the beginning of computerization, and even then another company was handling this share. But did they did recover the info, and after 6 months, they were able to have a clear picture of my shares. Apparently I have only received the first three dividends, and by 2014, they had issued 51 cheques for dividend altogether.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5V_4xfPNUEchpzijrLBM0oV_JDdotSOSkT078BSAlRaTh4ExzbjdLi8iQOltUsYOjXv4H1RftOZ1t3V7YP3-i9g5JkDdrpIGTqKi9xlW-qSi83UK7qEepLrdD3x8UYtuaud0cX_71lq9p/s1600/petdaq+cheques.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5V_4xfPNUEchpzijrLBM0oV_JDdotSOSkT078BSAlRaTh4ExzbjdLi8iQOltUsYOjXv4H1RftOZ1t3V7YP3-i9g5JkDdrpIGTqKi9xlW-qSi83UK7qEepLrdD3x8UYtuaud0cX_71lq9p/s640/petdaq+cheques.jpg" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Four of the 51 cheques.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
So immediately they issued 4 current cheques (for year ending Dec 2014) this week (in July 2015). How much? I can assure you that I am thankful.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Most of these dividends have been sent to Unclaimed Monies Registrar, and I would have to request that these monies be re-paid to me. Dividend alone, I calculated, they have been worth twice the original worth of the shares. Not too much, I guess, but more than enough as far as I am concerned. I did not realize that I have such monies in the first place, and I am nearly there to retrieve all that are due to me.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The share price has dropped quiet a bit since the height of Sept 2014, due to the depressed oil price, but they are still 8-9 times of what I originally paid for them. I am hoping sooner or later it would be back at RM30 or more. Wishful thinking may be, but again, I am thankful to Allah. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
If I had been meticulous enough during those days monitoring the share market, I would have probably sold them, as the prices has not risen that much the first ten 10 year. I probably would have gained RM0.50 perhaps over issuance price.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But persevere, or in my case, I just lost interest in it, and revisiting them nearly 20 years later, I found my small fortune.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
20 years after I left my service at the national oil corporation, I am still reaping of the good work done by the management, indirectly and directly. I am proud to be part of it and contributing in my own small way during my time.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkDOSoytM8JEOhGsKnLDQrb4tk8Wf7jKHMcMVL92M2G2kBhTN3r7qOTYBk9Kk3oD5ZY04rUS6lkoxVrVW1gAdhh6e5Dat1eIxSm4HsfHHXyScR3WWyhFlXRQI_oS5-bnV0VX7ombDBPQIW/s1600/Account+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkDOSoytM8JEOhGsKnLDQrb4tk8Wf7jKHMcMVL92M2G2kBhTN3r7qOTYBk9Kk3oD5ZY04rUS6lkoxVrVW1gAdhh6e5Dat1eIxSm4HsfHHXyScR3WWyhFlXRQI_oS5-bnV0VX7ombDBPQIW/s400/Account+2.jpg" width="216" /></a></div>
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Rahman Haririhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04474408822740473103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8277656418926255733.post-76833543599288839702015-05-30T16:46:00.002+08:002015-05-31T08:51:19.155+08:00Berakhirnya Epilog Cinta dari Leederville <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
After 34 years.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
34 long years. May be a bit too long, I must admit, but life has a cruel way of manifesting itself. Move on; experience new life, meet new people. Leave all the pasts behind.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Yeah, the more un-romantic way of looking at things. Not me; I don't look at things in that manner.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Truth be told - I did not have the opportunity to return. Life conspired against me returning when I could still recognize things. Ideally, time should have stood still (for me). Everything would be still be intact. The landmark; the streets, the school and the house that we rented.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It would really be a walk down memory lane. I probably would still see and meet the younger me.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
[sniff, sniff - pass me the tissue please] LOL</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But 34 years old is a bit too long not to see someone. From a slim 18 year old boy, I now have white hairs, on the good side of me. On another side, I have none. I am over half a decade mark now. I have a big gut now, of course. She would not recognize me at all in this state.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But I am not alone in growing old. She did too. </div>
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<br /></div>
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And I can hardly recognize her. She in her own way has expanded a lot - on all sides of her. From a slim her, she has overgrown her much. I am not sure I like her in this state. I certainly could not recognize her anymore.</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Of course there are traits and names I still recognize. Mitchell Freeway, West Leederville, Oxford Street, Bourke Street.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And of course Cambridge Street.</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJhKxXpFtvAGJ6ZDsCDtcP59daJnA_Mqxi0dTxdpRVV1bZbQrTZ7obblCAuyRax6oIWr2K1fa4DmGL8bka3mVmr6zWEmkqblN2DIql6Pxe7pAZsxVd8L52H_u9nhrVo3FdrlImDHQcDY8i/s1600/combo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="151" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJhKxXpFtvAGJ6ZDsCDtcP59daJnA_Mqxi0dTxdpRVV1bZbQrTZ7obblCAuyRax6oIWr2K1fa4DmGL8bka3mVmr6zWEmkqblN2DIql6Pxe7pAZsxVd8L52H_u9nhrVo3FdrlImDHQcDY8i/s400/combo.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Combo pix of me in front of Cambridge Court in1981 with my roommate and in 2015 with Arif and Akmal</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Specifically 50 Cambridge Street.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
This is the apartment I nearly burnt down, while cooking my rice on the stove. It is still intact. It is every way that I can remember. Exactly the way I would remember them.</div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnov_ESzIC6DdwNDPB4xLUDmhdOb_n4GsS3mEMhSqcUyOhyphenhyphenDj2Lm0TlghM8wGOOLtSi7xbbBQS1WBP8IE7zrAT86sBbsv9dOFCHjBUXYLAmKHkD1cmsKrFsHWPXKnfq7sGE5TIVJ9VzjxK/s1600/DSC_8296.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnov_ESzIC6DdwNDPB4xLUDmhdOb_n4GsS3mEMhSqcUyOhyphenhyphenDj2Lm0TlghM8wGOOLtSi7xbbBQS1WBP8IE7zrAT86sBbsv9dOFCHjBUXYLAmKHkD1cmsKrFsHWPXKnfq7sGE5TIVJ9VzjxK/s200/DSC_8296.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
Walking down Cambridge St, crossing the Mitchell Freeway and walking along Oxford Street to Leederville Teh. I'll alwyas remember that.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
On weekend, we would visit our seniors at the University of Western Australia in the suburbs of Nedland/Crawley. Of course posing at the Swan River would be a must, especially with the yacht in the background. </div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikwtNj4w87N3YqJF7EZfZc0FE0XW7iGD65bl8Hg1SOLeZOGtx3oLW_wL3qxxULzeBj2VQJfvhIV2PZcqv_ANXa-O-wTd10AejGdb_4hMXUsDbmZPrf7Pmz7p2Cai0OmMGrBNT0vL0295sH/s1600/Swan+River.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="155" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikwtNj4w87N3YqJF7EZfZc0FE0XW7iGD65bl8Hg1SOLeZOGtx3oLW_wL3qxxULzeBj2VQJfvhIV2PZcqv_ANXa-O-wTd10AejGdb_4hMXUsDbmZPrf7Pmz7p2Cai0OmMGrBNT0vL0295sH/s400/Swan+River.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
That's me and friends in 1981 at 18, and the boys in 2015 in their early twenties.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
At last, the romance of Perth (in my mind) is gone. It is still a nice and beautiful city; that I have to acknowledge.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But the romance is no longer there. Sort of. I am free at last.</div>
<br />
Thank goodness! </div>
Rahman Haririhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04474408822740473103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8277656418926255733.post-37708400920002045822015-04-16T21:10:00.001+08:002015-05-02T20:16:46.412+08:00My lil Perth - Epilog Cinta dari Leederville II<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Perth is a city that brings a sentimental longing in me. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It is a city that opens up a wistful affection for my past, a period that I can consider as happy days, and a year full of hopes and dreams, and a lot to look forward to in my life.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-518GaQ5d8zWtXoc8rmarEztphqbJCcGFc3omBZVjqJ5TXIC5ULAThtuWYyaAq8qfA0IAOJXQdnWukEkdjDjZ7nMLM49ijgAIez4aaZJGACs24EfJakrv-fzD6JhEIK29ag5Ub1Yb4NH0/s1600/hst111_kingspark-talent_hrc-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-518GaQ5d8zWtXoc8rmarEztphqbJCcGFc3omBZVjqJ5TXIC5ULAThtuWYyaAq8qfA0IAOJXQdnWukEkdjDjZ7nMLM49ijgAIez4aaZJGACs24EfJakrv-fzD6JhEIK29ag5Ub1Yb4NH0/s1600/hst111_kingspark-talent_hrc-2.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Perth from Kings Park. It is a beautiful city by the Swan River. Taken from www.experienceperth.com</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Don't get me wrong. Happiness is not absolute. Nothing is. For the year that I was there, I can only remember the good life, never mind that I did have my fair share of ups and downs, when I was there. Like, this is the place where I failed my (car) driving tests.<br />
<br />
Tests, mind you, as in the plural sense. Did I mention four times?<br />
<br />
LOL.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Our mind often plays a wonderful game with us. It blocks the bad memories, the sad episodes in our lives; those are quickly forgotten, or at least, if I can still remember it, I can now laugh at it.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
All I remember was on that cold February morning, walking down the streets at Wembley - having just landed in Perth the night before. It was more like the wee hours of that morning when we landed. It was still summer, but I was shivering. The air was cool - it didn't feel summer at all; but it was fresh; and crispy. It has a peculiar atmosphere that remain etched in my mind. I left Australia more than 30 years ago, and yet I can still feel the crispiness in the air. That crisp air that morning after we landed in Perth probably has a lot to do with the gum trees - eucalyptus, if you must.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It was Australia to me. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I am longing to have that feeling again. Fresh from completing our SPM, and thrown to the wonderful small city that is Perth, from the backwater of Kota Bharu. You can't beat that feeling. I own the world then; the world's my oyster. the sky's the limit.<br />
<br />
It was a I-am-here-to-conquer-the-world feeling. It was a euphoric feeling.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I am sure I can't replicate that feeling internally in me. 30 years have passed; I have been battered by life - sort of, I can't pretend to have that innocent feeling again. Not unlike the song Lost That Loving Feeling, by the Righteous Brothers.<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
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</div>
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</div>
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</div>
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</div>
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</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I never had the opportunity to return before this. My career took me to new places all over the world. But never my lil Perth (and in a sense, my Melbourne). I am sure they have grown. So much water would have flown by the Swan River (and the Yarra too) over the years. I am sure I may not recognize them as I would 34 years ago. Leederville Technical College is no longer Leederville Technical College. It is something else now. But I hope the building is still intact.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But my apartment on Cambridge St is still intact. Nothing has changed that much. Or at least that what I can see from Street View. I remember the walk that took us past the flyover over Mitchell Freeway.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi876iywuB2rriStc0HSrrxy3EErFqY6CFS2I6b7flDz1jBromkQJ_fzAZp0rhkk_QQBEf64_gSKr_96YNLGPWk75Hl60QX9hBp9CKS2b7NvOcFg_QbOeSoQ0e-gESnjhAmI73fBu0HSQC8/s1600/zai,+pie,+ime,+rahman.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi876iywuB2rriStc0HSrrxy3EErFqY6CFS2I6b7flDz1jBromkQJ_fzAZp0rhkk_QQBEf64_gSKr_96YNLGPWk75Hl60QX9hBp9CKS2b7NvOcFg_QbOeSoQ0e-gESnjhAmI73fBu0HSQC8/s1600/zai,+pie,+ime,+rahman.jpg" height="276" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Us at Nedlands, beside the Swan River in 1981. The picture tint is red with the advent of time, but the memory is intact.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Or the wonderful suburb of Nedlands/Crawley, where the equally majestic and beautiful buildings of the University of Western of Australia are located.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I can't wait to head back. As I told a friend, I remember Perth with all my innocence intact. I was there for a purpose. Study and get my degree. Well, in the end, I got my degree not in Perth, but Melbourne.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But Perth is the place I got started in life, so to speak.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
For that I look up to Perth fondly.<br />
<br />
Very fondly.<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">EPILOGUE</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">Here is<a href="http://rahmanhariri.blogspot.com/2012/09/epilog-cinta-dari-leederville-part-i.html" target="_blank"> <span style="color: yellow;">Epilog Cinta dari Leederville Part I</span></a>. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">I told this story to a friend. He vehemently agreed with me. He felt the same way about Carbondale and the crisp air when he first arrived there. Another friend who was in Perth a couple of years agreed too; she said so in her comment below.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">So it could be Perth, but may be it isn't. Yes, I do love Melbourne too, where I spent 4 years of my undergraduate years, but I did not feel the same about Melbourne, the same way I had described below.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">May be it was because this was my first ever trip overseas, when I was not even 18.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">Anything else beyond Perth - London, Tokyo, Houston, New York, Colorado, even Melbourne seems like a downgrade.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">May be it is like first love. You can't beat that feeling you had with your first love. Everybody else beyond first love would be a downgrade. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">And this time around, no gal is involved! </span></div>
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</div>
</div>
Rahman Haririhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04474408822740473103noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8277656418926255733.post-39837743463434596542014-12-20T09:14:00.000+08:002014-12-25T08:53:26.547+08:00Your money ain't yours until you spend it?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ3-DyhdIa_vGjdxCAolzO75gyS1j3Ez3mrQgwG5YjWgTgKTRvfEo0250qr9Ijh5BbpfwWg7wxfkulr6Q5JLkGwsJlxxK1SQtKxFeyRLPBd6_3_gUTEt_TmVh0hy5QrhVxQUYFT6be_rRp/s1600/duit+lama1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ3-DyhdIa_vGjdxCAolzO75gyS1j3Ez3mrQgwG5YjWgTgKTRvfEo0250qr9Ijh5BbpfwWg7wxfkulr6Q5JLkGwsJlxxK1SQtKxFeyRLPBd6_3_gUTEt_TmVh0hy5QrhVxQUYFT6be_rRp/s1600/duit+lama1.jpg" height="206" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Taken from terjahborneo.blogspot.com</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
You know I left office early yesterday - just before Friday prayer.</div>
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Prayed at KLCC mosque and then had a quick meeting with my partner. Nothing much to tell of the meeting itself, but his parting remark - pun was unintentional - was that the-money-is-not-mine-until-I-spend-it left an indelible mark on me. I raised my eyebrows and paused for a few moments. I had to mull over that statement. It sounds like an oxymoron to me, but it struck a chord nonetheless. It went against every grain of my soul and philosophy, but somehow he sounded right.</div>
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It messed up my mind.</div>
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I am someone who would diligently save money. I am not a spender - not even a small one, unlike the late Sudirman (The Big Spender - May Allah bless his soul). I am someone who loves to see money grows in my bank account. It is ok to be sleeping on the floor and not having a dining table, but it is not ok not to have money in the bank.</div>
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Those things were of course true in my earlier life - now, I sleep on a bed with a mattress and dine on a dining table. Which did not say much in any case.</div>
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And it is not like my bank accounts have swelled today, or that I have a Swiss bank account nor do I have offshore bank accounts.</div>
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But how would spending my money makes them mine?</div>
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Unthinkable philosophy to my mind. This is simply not me.</div>
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But since Haji Nazari is someone I looked up to, so I decided to head to the Ferrari showroom. If he says so, he must be correct. So I should be spending money to make them mine. And might as well I buy the prancing horse model. </div>
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F12berlinetta may be? F458 Spider?</div>
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Browsing around at the models on display, I noticed that F458 Italia comes at a price of RM2.</div>
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RM 2? I am sorry, I missed out the M, which stands for Many Many Multiple zeroes.</div>
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I slowly took out my wallet. Of course my wallet was always bulging - with receipts. You will always see that if you look at my pant's pocket. With hope, I started counting all of my one ringgit bills in the wallet. Alamak, I did not have RM2 M. I do have RM2 for sure. I am may be a few ringgit off the asking price. Probably I would tell you that the difference is a lot, if I was being interrogated by Malaysian Police. </div>
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Tip-toeing out of the showroom, I headed to to another showroom.</div>
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So I decided to buy this instead. This would not cost me RM2 M. It was so much cheaper. Four-fold cheaper. Surely I can afford his one?</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTMSe6ykyW9TlIL9RRDhMFvuHS4vCs5x_yDdCxq25RmZg7mvxZfFdsfWsjNKQvS_ZPt2VFyyuHzbaAq7zzmV5PJh1ztuem70ZB7LcUDD5j-2bvwVmCoqm8whwmT-VuJAIYhmYpzRApUnW5/s1600/Prorsche.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTMSe6ykyW9TlIL9RRDhMFvuHS4vCs5x_yDdCxq25RmZg7mvxZfFdsfWsjNKQvS_ZPt2VFyyuHzbaAq7zzmV5PJh1ztuem70ZB7LcUDD5j-2bvwVmCoqm8whwmT-VuJAIYhmYpzRApUnW5/s1600/Prorsche.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">How do you like my car?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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With this spending, I am ensuring that the money I did not have is now mine. All of the half million ringgit.<br />
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My bank account has swelled.</div>
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No wonder I am rich!</div>
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LOL.<br />
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;">PS Haha, gotcha! This is a friend's car who was kind enough to let me drive yesterday afternoon. Thank you very much ;) I am putting this in fine print, so that you would not read this and would think that this entry is a bragging entry. Hahaha.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">EPILOGUE</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">It reminds me of a saying that says that what we have are not ours. Only those that we have given away in alms and for His path are ours. I guess this is correct if we consider looking at it from the context of hereafter, and I could not agree more. Whatever money you have in the bank will go to our next of kins when we pass away. They will not be ours and we will not have any benefit of it.</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Only those we have sadaqah will be considered as our deeds for the hereafter.</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">This is not a real entry to be honest. A first attempt at satirical entry. I made up the story to test friends and relatives and see their reactions to me driving expensive car. Apparently from their silence, save for a few closest friends, I know they could not comprehend that this poor guy could afford such a luxury.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">And they are certainly right!</span></span></span></div>
</div>
Rahman Haririhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04474408822740473103noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8277656418926255733.post-53037331532453758372014-12-12T19:45:00.001+08:002014-12-20T08:34:06.209+08:00Who lets the cat out of the bag?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I have had an unspectacular career generally. </div>
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Nothing much to shout about. I have done my part, efficiently I presume (and hope). It had taken me to various countries to work - and the family had enjoyed those stints, but beyond that I don't have patents, nor have I published a significant number of papers.<br />
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No complaints though. No regrets. It is what it is; I am what I am. Could have done this; could have done that. Yeah, sure.</div>
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So when two publications came-a-calling, I was surprised. Why would anyone want to know my opinions on issues pertaining to the industry, or for that matter whether my opinion matters. I am too miniscule, or too unknown except to a close circle of companies and people. I don't indulge on high level issues.</div>
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Especially on policy matters.</div>
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I don't really care, and to be honest, I don't really have an opinion. Many are beyond me. I am struggling with bread-and-butter issues for the company that I have little time - or interest - to dabble on this high level stuff.</div>
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But the fact that two publications have been making appointments for interview puzzles me to say the least. </div>
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Who lets the cat out of the bag?</div>
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I prefer to be anonymous. Not that I am complaining though. Thank you very much for nominating us; thank you for trusting me. Whoever you are.</div>
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Anyway, today Friday 11th, The Oil and Gas Year journal dropped by to have the session with me at the office. Their publication is out of Dubai and they do yearly analysis and market research and interview personalities for each major oil and gas country, including Malaysia.</div>
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I hope they are right; I hope I can start reaching out regionally.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfl4cK2nqk5FNhsxuaKoXZ0Ru1admmoLi5aGRR0Kg1A6QkzW2FlEyxC8rzVvnmIFD4vKrLA8-drtHXVTd6sYk3EcEz1B9CKhqKFTF_vNdoDf-BnB1N_h5Ww_LxVqrW5ju0X-ohjQ6hYrF8/s1600/INterview2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfl4cK2nqk5FNhsxuaKoXZ0Ru1admmoLi5aGRR0Kg1A6QkzW2FlEyxC8rzVvnmIFD4vKrLA8-drtHXVTd6sYk3EcEz1B9CKhqKFTF_vNdoDf-BnB1N_h5Ww_LxVqrW5ju0X-ohjQ6hYrF8/s1600/INterview2.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The interviewing team from Dubai and they have been in the country since September</td></tr>
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The interview covers the prospect for for 2015 for both the company's perspective, and the prospect of 2015 in general. Kuala Lumpur as hub for oil and gas in Asia Pacific is always a favourite question.</div>
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Fortunately they did not ask me whether oil price is going up in 2015 or why RON 95 and diesel have little price disparity at the local pumps, or why until today we are still using Euro 2 diesel {sigh}, or any political questions!<br />
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But here are some of the questions that they posed. To be honest, this is soalan bocor and I have prepared myself the night before with some facts and figures. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8aTLTyQwnrx8o3DKhs6_CsY1uVOrRa14IqZif1O3MkUvLR2_66ZYqS78-5nBJKhs1_lrW-tFOgw16tiDGzZaCV8ZEMCl2LcjhG2hXKhRK1aIrWvmrlj-q66D3V4VqSNXBTGiw0rasHSxp/s1600/OIl+and+gas+interview.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8aTLTyQwnrx8o3DKhs6_CsY1uVOrRa14IqZif1O3MkUvLR2_66ZYqS78-5nBJKhs1_lrW-tFOgw16tiDGzZaCV8ZEMCl2LcjhG2hXKhRK1aIrWvmrlj-q66D3V4VqSNXBTGiw0rasHSxp/s1600/OIl+and+gas+interview.JPG" height="174" width="320" /></a></div>
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I am sure many can answer some of these questions better than myself!</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKbepMtoU6FCjHZeMsezi6iz9WmSN1yit5ed0l_D2e2GTJJSeE1wQISHPvawXtowSXU2NNVuDMVbP-zGtbBqWyeyi4Hxuj-ccLq5GypZ_rsCOyUngFzLxVIE2w5s8fdEwdtla1yKYs5s9A/s1600/INterview21.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKbepMtoU6FCjHZeMsezi6iz9WmSN1yit5ed0l_D2e2GTJJSeE1wQISHPvawXtowSXU2NNVuDMVbP-zGtbBqWyeyi4Hxuj-ccLq5GypZ_rsCOyUngFzLxVIE2w5s8fdEwdtla1yKYs5s9A/s1600/INterview21.jpg" height="640" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I do hope I have given them something quotable, and that I did not make a fool out of myself</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">. </td></tr>
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The Oil and Gas Year 2015 will be published in March 2015, and it would be interesting to get myself in here with other major players in Malaysia. I feel small though. </div>
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Earlier in late October, The Oil and Gas Financial Journal dropped by for a session. Hey, I am an engineer. I don't do finance. They must have gotten the wrong person to interview. Huh!</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKAW5INllOIq1F-oUNC1UqB_ExlT-_LxgdLAXwxeNMeBn50MDyCYSMe4t7c6k5TlXVxWBXqiY_yxy9KSmwwnalhnoQ56p1_FNpvxsG8nYA8Wzk-gclMIhE5pggR8ozyMtrGd44RcxMbJEY/s1600/INterview+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKAW5INllOIq1F-oUNC1UqB_ExlT-_LxgdLAXwxeNMeBn50MDyCYSMe4t7c6k5TlXVxWBXqiY_yxy9KSmwwnalhnoQ56p1_FNpvxsG8nYA8Wzk-gclMIhE5pggR8ozyMtrGd44RcxMbJEY/s1600/INterview+2.jpg" height="296" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The team from Oil and Gas Financial Jorunal</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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It would be interesting if all of the sudden, I got featured in two journals in the same year. It would be a coup. But really, I will be pleased with one. I'd take one anytime. </div>
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It would be an icing on cake for 2014.</div>
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Rahman Haririhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04474408822740473103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8277656418926255733.post-13602551374314882252014-12-07T20:16:00.003+08:002015-01-26T09:58:40.494+08:00The Joy of Simpler Things in Life<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLOmo0eBOGl1kfrpPTVI7GZm9f29zY3AI4UXr1Mbm8SFJBedtUd-1rgOiVwp5Y9oi9TT4RJ_I2sjUXZope1FoxC9SiBgUwNkswYNa0jX7ane-EtqDkcpatQPAa1Y0b5XOGLEGtg161tFqb/s1600/IMG-20141110-WA0014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLOmo0eBOGl1kfrpPTVI7GZm9f29zY3AI4UXr1Mbm8SFJBedtUd-1rgOiVwp5Y9oi9TT4RJ_I2sjUXZope1FoxC9SiBgUwNkswYNa0jX7ane-EtqDkcpatQPAa1Y0b5XOGLEGtg161tFqb/s1600/IMG-20141110-WA0014.jpg" height="400" width="225" /></a></div>
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I thought I was in the pink of my health. </div>
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Even at the half-decade mark.</div>
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And why not? I have just completed my ECG test at the behest of my insurance agent - she had wanted me to have a different set of insurance than the one I have. So one Saturday morning, last Ramadhan, I took on the treadmill at a specialist clinic in PJ and completed the five sets of strenuous exercises.</div>
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Did I mention that the ECG was done in the month Ramadhan?</div>
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And I came out unscathed, and if I can exaggerate a bit, with flying colours. The heart that is more than half-a-century old is fine and dandy, despite all the food binge I had through out my life.</div>
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So I was happy. Happy as a bee.</div>
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No, no, relief is perhaps a better adjective to describe my feeling. I have always had an issue when it comes to checking my health. I didn't want to know. I was afraid, if I am honest with myself. I had always told my bosses in previous lives that I didn't want to know and that I would prefer it that when my time comes, I would just drop dead.</div>
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Not that I would want that anytime soon, especially then, and not now.</div>
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So when I was feeling not well (had a bout of diarrhea for nearly a week, the week before), I dismissed it as something that would soon pass. It has been a week and it does not seem to go away. But I did not have fever or anything, so it was business as usual.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">SATURDAY 8 NOV</span> </div>
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However, that Saturday 8th Nov it had taken a turn for the worst. I was supposed to attend Dr Zaharuddin's seminar with Arif - instead, I had to ask Akmal to attend on my behalf. As for me, I then slept on my sofa all day that Saturday, and of course on Sunday too. Twice on consecutive days that weekend, I went to the doc. The second time on Sunday, I was given antibiotic. </div>
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That's how I survived the weekend.</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">MONDAY 10 NOV</span><br />
Monday 10th was the start of training for my biggest client. I had no choice but to drag myself out of bed, and drove to UNITEN, where the training was being held. "You looked and sound bad, Rahman," Steve Saunders (my instructor) acknowledging my remark that I felt bad that morning.</div>
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At 9 am, I officiated the opening of the training session with about 18 attendees, and by 0930 hours, I was beginning to shiver. I decided to leave the training room, but I paused to take a breather of the sunlight at the car park, and then I drove to Columbia Asia hospital near my home. Had my blood test and immediately went home for a rest.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW4-_jpsRTh4jhj4dvMMLpI8d5mV2QgtPSsKzZVca5V0lL9H22GShDDF4HM_-taWgQXZjnKuzuxejyqTB7OOJcp7KRNr96oLy_3_emoDO-nEy8XgNRXz4xZHKe2nhkYZi0lQ_Sci_QqtFk/s1600/IMG-20141110-WA0024.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW4-_jpsRTh4jhj4dvMMLpI8d5mV2QgtPSsKzZVca5V0lL9H22GShDDF4HM_-taWgQXZjnKuzuxejyqTB7OOJcp7KRNr96oLy_3_emoDO-nEy8XgNRXz4xZHKe2nhkYZi0lQ_Sci_QqtFk/s1600/IMG-20141110-WA0024.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Columbia. Shared room.</td></tr>
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</div>
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An hour later came the test results .</div>
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"Can you come to the Hospital so that we can discuss the test results?"</div>
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"No, can you let me know over the phone?"</div>
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"We don't normally discuss results over the phone," came the reply.</div>
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"The results will determine how fast I would be there. If it is positive, I'll come immediately. If not, I'll take my time and come later in the afternoon. I am sick, you know," I tried arguing.</div>
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"It is positive."</div>
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I paused to ponder on the implication. The dreaded result is now known. I was going to be hospitalized; there was no two way about it. I then asked Arif to drive me to the hospital .</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
At the doc's office, I was pleading with the doc not to ward me. "Can I not be warded? I promise you that I'll take lots of fluid," I smiled wryly when I made the request.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Why?" the doctor asked me.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"I hate the needle!"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Don't worry, I'll do it for you," he reassures me.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I have seen Mak in pain over the blood samples. Most of Ampang Puteri nurses are novice over taking blood sample. Her arm had blue and black marks over it due to sampling issue. And how about the needle for the drip?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxqN1zS0_B4mp7uVKIjbMoIXwt2UX7sXlSAKnvIo6h4vRG5nY7MpQStPRWFJyTDfiL7Yx7tx-3PwUzU8y6dXBzlhVurTLbDWbQ-xfRmNZky_FHaiD5AjLbkz9sMR7WoeSzVlCl1bZpBs0s/s1600/IMG-20141110-WA0034.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxqN1zS0_B4mp7uVKIjbMoIXwt2UX7sXlSAKnvIo6h4vRG5nY7MpQStPRWFJyTDfiL7Yx7tx-3PwUzU8y6dXBzlhVurTLbDWbQ-xfRmNZky_FHaiD5AjLbkz9sMR7WoeSzVlCl1bZpBs0s/s1600/IMG-20141110-WA0034.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I can never imagine myself with this, but this is my right hand, taken my bro</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rasyi</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
They are big to me, and it looks painful.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And now I had to undergo it myself. Barely 2 years on. [sigh]</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Actually the doctor was not that bad with the drip needle. I didn't feel a thing, to be honest. I was relief, and now I have a drip over me. For the first time. The dreaded needle is in me. For 52 years, I have not been admitted to a hospital; it is a proud record for me to showcase that I have been healthy.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And with His grace, I have not had anything to warrant me to be hospitalized. For over 50 years, no (big) health issue, no mishap. I am thankful to Him.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And no thanks to a single mosquito bite, I am now hospitalized. If He is going to take it away from you, at an instant, He can, if He wants it.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoKmnTYj538xYJ2aNwZhKEHCcY6k3PQXfs_caeNYHJeVBJZXobUVhv0IkDGfaZ4cx0PJqRX9NGOLaVxC402bSrUKHiwmHwO6qbaorFA-HtT3jY1tW4vFNII3yw5yerIBIzP2Jx_z3t13hh/s1600/IMG-20141110-WA0031.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoKmnTYj538xYJ2aNwZhKEHCcY6k3PQXfs_caeNYHJeVBJZXobUVhv0IkDGfaZ4cx0PJqRX9NGOLaVxC402bSrUKHiwmHwO6qbaorFA-HtT3jY1tW4vFNII3yw5yerIBIzP2Jx_z3t13hh/s1600/IMG-20141110-WA0031.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Have betek leave juice, Man. Fortunately someone has commercialized it. Pix given by Abu</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
At this stage of admission, my blood platelet was still high at 190. I was not worried at all. I have fever for sure, and according to the doctor, other indicators (e.g. white blood cells) showed that I have dengue, so it is better to be warded. My kidney has been compromised too. I have no objection to being warded; only the needle that I am objecting to.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">TUESDAY 11 NOV</span><br />
For two days (Monday and Tuesday), I continued to have fever. I was between awake and sleep. I was dozing off, I guess, most of the time. At least on two separate occasions, I had guests coming in when I was sleeping - my neighbour and bro-in law. I didn't see them. They must have came and left (after seeing me fully asleep). I could not help it. I was tired, I guess. But I noted later to my former classmates in Whatsapp message at 1900 hours on Monday that I felt better after sleeping all day.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
On Tuesday, my platelet took turn for the worst. It dropped to 60 at 4 pm. I thought it was an abrupt drop. Where was the 150 mark or 100, since the last platelet count was 190 on Monday. Aren't they supposed to pass through these first? Surely it is not a good sign, I thought. I still have high fever, and the platelets dropping like crazy. I continued to doze off in between visitations by relative and staff.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz76-qQjkKy6uL2uovNRExge1PXdUWtxIiE9TvHT41XSeIaNwTjL4TBo5M7pFpgmkl-OBlTesnzPsDtvIfXD4_BVrgQTqLpwG2UtWYUhyuFlE8P5eLpSc3KvP69dDbxQHicWwEe6ojuHch/s1600/IMG-20141110-WA0028.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz76-qQjkKy6uL2uovNRExge1PXdUWtxIiE9TvHT41XSeIaNwTjL4TBo5M7pFpgmkl-OBlTesnzPsDtvIfXD4_BVrgQTqLpwG2UtWYUhyuFlE8P5eLpSc3KvP69dDbxQHicWwEe6ojuHch/s1600/IMG-20141110-WA0028.jpeg" height="320" width="180" /></a></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">WEDNESDAY 12 NOV</span> <br />
Wednesday's morning (12th Nov) sample brought worse results. 30, and counting down, I guess. It was too big a drop for my liking. I was puzzled even more. But by then I had no more fever, so physically I was ok. I didn't feel bad at all; it was as if I was normal. I thought based on that alone, I should be discharged. But the other indicators were not so good.<br />
<br />
They took another sample at 3 pm, and platelets have dropped to 20. Get prepared, the doctor warned me. We may have to do plasma transfusion tonight, but we'll wait for 8 pm test results. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"If your platelet counts drops to below 10, we would have to do the transfusion. It is a directive from Health Ministry. We have the blood ready for you already," Dr Amir explains. <br />
<br />
They decided to have another sample at 8 pm. That's a first time - 3
samples a day; normally it was two. and it dropped further to 14.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I sighed. What else can I do? It is beyond me at this moment. Why the sudden drop, and why not a more gradual decrease? And it continued to stay at 14. I was getting exasperated. I am not sure if I can continue to stay strong. It was a mental battle.<br />
<br />
But the good news was, by this time, I didn't have fever at all - it has subsided. Physically I was feeling good. The platelet stayed at 14 for that day, but since it is above 10, no plasma transfusion was required much to my relief. Physically I felt strong; I was in no danger of falling off the cliff. (Later on during follow up check-up, the Dr Amir told me of a patient who just dropped dead the next day!)<br />
<br />
Or at least that's I thought. Only that I was worried about my platelet count. <br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">THURSDAY 13 NOV</span> <br />
Platelets continue to hover above 10 on Thursday Nov 13, but the white blood cell counts have moved into the normal range of 4. Previously it was precariously at 1. "We know based on this trend, I would expect that your platelets would increase soon. Normally white blood cells will increase first," Dr Amir continues to re-assure me.<br />
<br />
In my mind, OK, OK, sure, but why would my platelet still very low. I have no clue, I was worried, but Thursday I was physically and mentally refreshed, never mind my platelet was still low. <br />
<br />
By this time, I was already simply tired of having water. I could not, even if my life depended on it, drink. I was getting sick of water; whatever the drip can do for me, that's it. I simply refused to drink anymore. May be a glass during meal, but nothing more.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF1NtyR2eDOsU_HDSvl_P2jgJBefNqXDTtGyCzSor5_5bqlEwg13FRVTkQ4pITXl5j6O4fkCOsiRGiRGT9an2lRncPKZjzmRQ-g_cXYdDR7TR9lt2VAp7FVxuvj5CZPnHaId7Q1sb6ToGu/s1600/IMG-20141113-WA0001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF1NtyR2eDOsU_HDSvl_P2jgJBefNqXDTtGyCzSor5_5bqlEwg13FRVTkQ4pITXl5j6O4fkCOsiRGiRGT9an2lRncPKZjzmRQ-g_cXYdDR7TR9lt2VAp7FVxuvj5CZPnHaId7Q1sb6ToGu/s1600/IMG-20141113-WA0001.jpg" height="400" width="225" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Birin & I in the morning. I was cheerful with his visit. He was here when the Dr Amir told me of the good news of my white blood cell improving</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Actually at around 8 am, a former classmate Sabirin suddenly appeared in my room. It was a nice surprise to get a visit from a friend. That cheered me quite a bit; we shared 5 years of our growing up lives in a boarding school in KB, and now is a big-time contractor. With him around, you tend to get at least one laugh a minute. He is a cheerful-kind of guy.<br />
<br />
Thank Yin for dropping by. It is really appreciated. It made my morning, especially with the good news brought by the doc. People said I looked cheerful; yes, I was.<br />
<br />
And it was the start of my friends visiting me. Each visit brought more cheers for me. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_NVTcdhAz9i1trCMstWe6WTH5BQI5y8MVhEdeI-u9VyEPMaHQOczwv7WOflZftL6P976i27lA_amjmblb-dVbhlfdnuBfyRLAedYX3PeYz_wlactQH3w3_EmKSN-J0F60eA8_3t2UiWWY/s1600/IMG-20141113-WA0014.jpg" height="225" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Suri came visiting mid afternoon</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I swear Suri and I are from the same batch in school, though 35 years on, he looked much younger than yours truly. Then my classmate Jamil dropped by.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX_0533s4yQHSxGzCd2KEUCUIygew8cY2QShCqoPycWed1ap4ebQ077ZgQeF7b7xn2C8mRM4CHa_DIF9W8y0E0sd5x0g9aJ1He8xLzhoHm2snEbiL59xHYb7YH8Ue_qwgcXtS3FNazwo7c/s1600/IMG-20141113-WA0015.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX_0533s4yQHSxGzCd2KEUCUIygew8cY2QShCqoPycWed1ap4ebQ077ZgQeF7b7xn2C8mRM4CHa_DIF9W8y0E0sd5x0g9aJ1He8xLzhoHm2snEbiL59xHYb7YH8Ue_qwgcXtS3FNazwo7c/s1600/IMG-20141113-WA0015.jpg" height="400" width="240" />r</a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jamil came visiting in the afternoon. He had dengue before and he was worst than mine - denggi berdarah, and he survived. So I was going to survive too, I thought.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I never thought I was important enough to have my former classmates visiting, especially many were busy with their work and lives, I guess. Dengue is a common bane of modern lives, nothing spectacular that would require visitation. Yes, I have friend who died from dengue in 1998, and many more have died from dengue. I was that close to having transfusion, so I guess I was not that far.<br />
<br />
To cap the visitations, An and Liza dropped by at around 8 pm, when I was just too tired sitting in my room, hence I was at the lobby with my drip when they arrived. An was a batchmate from school while Liza was, of course my Pasteur classmate then. <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaZEeav_SlRy0z0A3krBuRrlCTr9K_EbjBTp7KE33QUxRNVuiSjdQQAEWwCbDKSsEHgaMgaBXKvqF9WlqbUOg4qfZQQIt8TM9UQblTkGuol5xNuNK_DP031TGQJFRUFmlB3vETsfuWUMkv/s1600/IMG-20141113-WA0030.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaZEeav_SlRy0z0A3krBuRrlCTr9K_EbjBTp7KE33QUxRNVuiSjdQQAEWwCbDKSsEHgaMgaBXKvqF9WlqbUOg4qfZQQIt8TM9UQblTkGuol5xNuNK_DP031TGQJFRUFmlB3vETsfuWUMkv/s1600/IMG-20141113-WA0030.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My first attempt at selfie. Lousy job I guess.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-size: large;">SATURDAY 15 NOV</span><br />
Shema and Aya - both classmates - dropped by just before I was discharged on Satuday 15 Nov. Of course with Shema just coming back from her pilgrimage, I got a bottle of air zam-zam and dates, which I believe is khurma Nabi. Unfortunately, I didn't take picture that day, so there is no pictorial record with them. The both of them were my classmate in school. And Aya is now officially a datin. From my estimate, her husband got the datukship that Saturday itself.<br />
<br />
Thank you, guys. You guys made my day.<br />
<br />
The platelet was still below, but I was recovering.<br />
<br />
On Saturday, my platelet count was still 30, but the doctor thought I could
be discharged since my other indicators have stabilized for sometimes
already. I was not going to argue with him; I was getting tired of
staying in bed for much of the day. By then I probably had lost 3-5 kg
and I am sure I looked haggard. My sister says so; and I have no doubt
about it. I have not shaved for a week now. So I was quietly pleased
that he would do that.<br />
<br />
And by 3 pm, I was back at home, driven by Akmal.<br />
<br />
But
to be honest, the battle was far from over. I may have been discharged
on Saturday 15 Nov, but the worst days of my life was for the next
three days.<br />
<br />
I made my living room my bedroom. The sofa
and the carpet were my bed; occasionally I would go up to clean up
myself. But honestly, I was not on the way for quick recovery. My house was
filled up to the brim with my wife's side visiting on Saturday, but I was in no
position to receive any visitation. It stressed me out completely. I
just need my rest, and I can't take bulk visitation.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSA1GvtLZO-htiODbISPk09X6cqgB2-QT_ntjzhHxFNWwVLighAq2X2540UhmXHecDQBoWHaUyvoqVbhf8a86FPnpLnhhlrk_CTZQ3NW6D5dIRKNpCD9duNFFyBbT63L7FAT7tpdHv9gns/s1600/IMG-20141112-WA0004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSA1GvtLZO-htiODbISPk09X6cqgB2-QT_ntjzhHxFNWwVLighAq2X2540UhmXHecDQBoWHaUyvoqVbhf8a86FPnpLnhhlrk_CTZQ3NW6D5dIRKNpCD9duNFFyBbT63L7FAT7tpdHv9gns/s1600/IMG-20141112-WA0004.jpg" height="400" width="225" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crab soup and fresh betek leave juice. I could not take it after the 1st bottle</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I just sat on the sofa, did not talk much, not that I talk much in
normal circumstances. I was between awake and sleep and I was forcing
myself to be awake.<br />
<br />
I have learned my lesson. When visiting, depending on illness, make it a short and sweet visitation. Don't overdo it with lengthy visitation, unless the patient can handle it. Dengue is one illness patient needs much rest and sleep.<br />
<br />
Don't get me wrong. I know each visitor brought with him or her, rezeki and more importantly their prayers. I know that, and I am thankful. I am thankful for all those who visited me, and those who had prayed for me. <br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">MONDAY 17 NOV</span><br />
My sister and auntie MCKam visited
me on Monday. Same thing. I did not talk much; I simply could not. I was
lethargic; I was tired. I could not even open up my mouth to answer
their questions. But their visitation was good in the sense that it was
short and sweet. Later on she told me this, "You scared me twice - at the hospital and at your home. You
looked so haggard and your eyes looked sunken. I told you that it made no sense to go out because of
dengue."<br />
<br />
May be I was that close to going out, if you know what I mean. Who
knows? By blood platelet count, I was down to 14 on numerous occasions. I was
giving up on my fluid intake - I could not just drink anything, and I
was purely relying on my fluid drip. And one needs lots of fluid intake
when one has dengue.<br />
<br />
Technically, I was giving up. I also slept all day
those three days post hospitalization, and at night obviously too. I ate very little, manly lived on
bread and soups that my wife would buy.<br />
<br />
But the worst
part was the nightmare at night. I was practically having nightmare every
time I go to sleep. I would be awake at 12 am, or at 3 am in the morning,
wondering if I am still alive or would continue to be alive, and why I was feeling so depressed. When I
close my eyes trying to go to sleep, I would feel as if my world was
spinning. When I awoke, I would be staring at the ceiling and I would
cry, "Why? What's going on? Why am I feeling so sad? I am going to
recover, am I not?"<br />
<br />
I was getting depressed. I really was.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoy4zhNDM_fJ6nZoUjsH6Q8lBM7rQ2ItTCZ-QUm8wqj-pLi2TkvrPDYW522DGByBBK2qoJbE-Rf1Q5xhzvNplzDIy1mY9IVAk7T2grLOJexcaRv2MwksqlX9MSlyAIozai6_HpjuZvtpwE/s1600/spinning.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoy4zhNDM_fJ6nZoUjsH6Q8lBM7rQ2ItTCZ-QUm8wqj-pLi2TkvrPDYW522DGByBBK2qoJbE-Rf1Q5xhzvNplzDIy1mY9IVAk7T2grLOJexcaRv2MwksqlX9MSlyAIozai6_HpjuZvtpwE/s1600/spinning.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Imagine this, but with thousands of these spiraling in your mind, and not in this nice pattern,<br />
every time I close my eyes. They were more random. Taken from internet</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I was in zombie state - I was hallucinating; I was trying
to figure out what's going on, and that I only have only dengue, and that I was not going to die. It sure felt that way then. I did not
feel like I was getting any better. The nightmare and the hallucination were really bad. And
only when I managed to convince myself that it was just a dream, then
only I would feel better.<br />
<br />
But normally the feeling of relief would be short. <br />
<br />
Most of the time getting back to sleep would be a chore. I had to convince myself that I am going to be ok, and that I am not dying. But it was
futile. My mind was spinning - not physically - every time I close my eyes. I would wake up at least a
couple of time in the course of the night. And it would be the same
thing, over and over again.<br />
<br />
My world was crumbling down. It felt like the whole world is resting on my shoulder. I was feeling really bad. I had thought about
death. At times, I was convinced then I was not going to get through this. At times, I was
convinced that death was imminent. That was the worst part of my dengue
fever. I did not get this while at hospital. It was the home recovery that it was the
worst part of them all.<br />
<br />
If night was bad, day time is no better. I may be awake. But I was tired;
I was lethargic. My zombie state mean that while I know where I was, I was
not in the position to do anything. I was helpless. I can only sit or lie down on the
sofa. I could not care less about anything, to be honest. It was like I
was stoned, to be honest.<br />
<br />
My bio-chemial compositions must be totally imbalance. They were causing havoc in mind.<br />
<br />
It took me three days to get through this phase. Really long three days.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">TUESDAY 19 NOV</span><br />
Only
on Tuesday I believe I did not have the nightmare and I have a bit more
zeal for life. Mostly because I know I was going back to the hospital for
check up, and chances were I should be ok. I was worried of course more about the needle, but it was the
least of my worry.<br />
<br />
160 came the result. The doc gave me a clean bill of health.<br />
<br />
I
had driven to the hospital - on my own, for the first time in more than a week. It felt really good driving the car. The
radio was set at top volume. I opened the window, I was letting all the
polluted air of Kuala Lumpur filling up my car and lung. I thought the driving
really rejuvenated me. I was - at last - free.<br />
<br />
I then went on to Jusco and shopped for fruits and of course my beloved Marmalade.<br />
<br />
To
be honest, it took me more than just the second week to recover. I did
not bother going to work. I did not bother checking my mails. I did not
bother checking how my staff were doing. I was hoping that they were all on auto-pilot. The dengue has really drained the energy out of me. While I have no fever, I was lethargic. I was tired. I
was weary, fatigue, if you must; it was as if I was burnt-out. All of those
combined.<br />
<br />
All in all, I reckon it took 3 full weeks to come to my senses and be myself again. Four weeks if I am honest.<br />
<br />
But
then again, up to this posting date, I am not myself yet. When I read
the quran during solat, it would not be with the same passion and I was not
stressing on the wordings and sentences, like I am used to. It was as if I had lost my zeal. It was as if I was just passing through when I read those passages. Something in me is still missing.<br />
<br />
Dengue. It can kill you. In my case, it had drained me out of my energy. Completely.<br />
<br />
I still hope I can fully recover God-knows when!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">EPILOGUE</span><br />
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">To be honest, I have rediscovered some simple things in previous life that I have forgotten in my present life. You can't beat being hospitalized to make you ponder on what you had left behind, and how good they were then. I mean, life is so good nowadays that our breakfast would be roti canai as a minimum, possibly nasik lemak, or mihun goreng and perhaps some would have half-boiled eggs.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">If I were to have bread, it would be taken with freshly fried eggs, or half-boiled eggs. Or I would turn it into sandwiches, and it would be done over sandwich maker that Mak gave us many years ago.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">And the bread would have to toasted - freshly toasted. I can't have cold bread unless they are fresh from the oven. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">My kids would take the bread over say peanut butter, or peanut butter jelly or some fanciful names.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">Yes, I can order my food over a menu at the hospital, but over breakfast, I was reintroduced to food of yesterday. I had never thought that while one was ill, this wonderful spread that I have forgotten would taste so wonderful than it became my daily staple. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">I am of course talking about marmalade.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQRNgqW6ZA875uaX_uEV7rDRsLzkAOXpWT3GWbIr1Jj9t77atZ3OVbm2fPQHpprDXC1gFU_jP0HdgsMt4eVO8NFXcEfkzOK6W9qwydw2DfFJnyuZ8Mpmb08jck-NKT1A8SFm3uX5VOZYo-/s1600/20141207_200113.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQRNgqW6ZA875uaX_uEV7rDRsLzkAOXpWT3GWbIr1Jj9t77atZ3OVbm2fPQHpprDXC1gFU_jP0HdgsMt4eVO8NFXcEfkzOK6W9qwydw2DfFJnyuZ8Mpmb08jck-NKT1A8SFm3uX5VOZYo-/s1600/20141207_200113.jpg" height="400" width="225" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #cfe2f3;">I finished 'em all. Me alone, thank you very much!</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">The bread was soft and fresh, and the butter complement the marmalade. When I spread it on the bread (and butter) and tasted it, I was like, overwhelmed. What is thing? I thought. Marmalade, it says on the cover. Marmalade? Marmite, I remember. Marmalade? This taste like a orange jam. It tasted so good than I finished my whole ration.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">And I had to ask for the same breakfast the next day.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">And of course, when I returned to the hospital for their follow up check on Tuesday (18 Nov), I decided to drop by at Jusco next door, and bought one big bottle of marmalade jam. It was the smallest I can get, as I was sure I would get over it soon, and then no one else would want to eat them.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">But until this post is published, the bottle is 3/4 empty now and I am still stuffing myself with marmalade jam on my bread. It is so good (even today) that I would not be bothered to have the bread toasted.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">Funny how an illness could allow to relish simple stuff as marmalade. Something I have forgotten from an an earlier life.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;">I am looking back after all these. Life can take a sudden turn. One day you are healthy. The next day, you could be dead. Life is that simple and can be tragic. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #9fc5e8;">EPILOGUE II</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #9fc5e8;">I would have to thank to those visiting or at least sending get well wishes. My former classmates of Pasteur 80 of MRSM Kota Bharu top the list as I have mentioned above. Their WhatsApp messages had really cheered me up and kept me occupied through out my stay. And all their prayers.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #9fc5e8;">Of course, on the very first day my bro Rasi visited me with Kiwi fruits and isotonic drink. Thank you for coming, bro. My sister Sham who visited me twice, and my Auntie MC Kam who visited me at home. Her visit left an indelible mark on me. I was thinking that who else do I have left in this world. I don't have that many anymore. I am talking about my elders - aunties and uncles. Not many are left, and may be my turn would come soon. Fortunately I have one who would visit me during my hours of trial.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #9fc5e8;">My bro in law Dr Kamal who visited me twice, and the relatives from my wife's side also visited me, notably my mother-in-law and Roslan and Ina. My former partner Ir Mohd Nor also visited me at the hospital.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #9fc5e8;">And those who sent their regards and prayers from afar. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #9fc5e8;">Thank you. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #9fc5e8;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #6fa8dc;">EPILOGUE III</span><br />
<span style="color: #6fa8dc;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #6fa8dc;">It had been a trying month the last
month (Nov). A one-week training that has been planned for months was
cancelled just the week before (initially scheduled for 27 Oct week).</span><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #6fa8dc;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #6fa8dc;">The
instructor who had been away from the US had a
less-than-six-month-before-expiry passport just when he was about to fly
to Kuala Lumpur (from India) and hence was denied entry to board plane
to KL. He could not extend the passport at the Embassy in India. It was
Deepavali's week!</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #6fa8dc;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #6fa8dc;">So he had to fly back to Houston!</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #6fa8dc;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #6fa8dc;">I
was frantically trying restore my dignity with my client and get
training which was supposed to be on the 27 Oct to 1 Nov be replaced
with a firm date (got 10-14 Nov).</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #6fa8dc;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #6fa8dc;">And
with that done and the instructor back in KL within 3 weeks, my health
starts to deteriorate. I could feel it; but since it has been a hectic
month, life went on, I supposed.</span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #6fa8dc;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4tgv7JBZ5FvKSlfkg-36-gI0mASuVupWPEMivFkLP75Vb4JyGdyiYEUDFidAOFj-jgnvXjxklVpP3C37Vivc25zE-UOHD7FaRdojtsyq9NEi5pLPC93QzjiYqXbERoT-xTYvNohjjWBmo/s1600/P1018270.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4tgv7JBZ5FvKSlfkg-36-gI0mASuVupWPEMivFkLP75Vb4JyGdyiYEUDFidAOFj-jgnvXjxklVpP3C37Vivc25zE-UOHD7FaRdojtsyq9NEi5pLPC93QzjiYqXbERoT-xTYvNohjjWBmo/s1600/P1018270.JPG" height="300" width="400" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #6fa8dc;">Steve with some of the attendees at the end of training session on Friday 14th. I was still in the hospital</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="color: #6fa8dc;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #6fa8dc;">And of course, to cap it off, I had dengue the week the instructor was doing the training for my esteemed clients! </span></div>
</div>
</div>
Rahman Haririhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04474408822740473103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8277656418926255733.post-65405495563188934912014-11-24T13:05:00.001+08:002015-01-25T21:59:14.060+08:00Kembara - The Legendary folk group<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijs6eFP8sMsCpRgQ9ma3bURh7LAaSqdjyBTgKuHG6f-rhLhjXqBrvei7rPJ_MG6cL0lhZMcBUGI-CgH9rZ-d996FPBsIq_DaNcF2FBW5HmTp78oVYbNzzTOO1pUe70yl1_wesPU8UbJI93/s1600/Poster-Kembara-28-Oct-900px.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijs6eFP8sMsCpRgQ9ma3bURh7LAaSqdjyBTgKuHG6f-rhLhjXqBrvei7rPJ_MG6cL0lhZMcBUGI-CgH9rZ-d996FPBsIq_DaNcF2FBW5HmTp78oVYbNzzTOO1pUe70yl1_wesPU8UbJI93/s1600/Poster-Kembara-28-Oct-900px.gif" height="400" width="311" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I have a confession to make.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Kembara is not really my kind of groups. I love ballad and sentimental songs, and they are certainly not Alleycats. They don't normally sing about love, falling in love, unrequited love - my kind of love songs. Their songs were normally soft-rock or folksy, and they sing about train rides, about blue collar workers, they celebrate hard-core labourers, about being in prison, about corruptions, and other social issues in the 80s. <br />
<br />
Uh oh, and I am supposed to sing along?<br />
<br />
Don't get me wrong. I am sure I have listened to enough Kembara's albums to call myself a fan. I thought each one of their albums is excellent, high quality recording and compositions, and are very different from any other group that existed in the 80s.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
They have good melodies and good lyrics, and with the charismatic M Nasir at the helm, they were bound to be legendary. They could have taken all of M Nasir's songs (given to Alleycats) and become THE Alleycats themselves. But that they did not do. They did not take the easy way out. They took on social issues and ground them into soft- rock songs that bore no similarities with any other groups.<br />
<br />
That's Kembara to me.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
You know, I have been disappointed with last year's M Nasir concert at the philharmonic. Even with first class musicians, he did not sound like M Nasir, and his songs became detached. Listening to him at the MPO was a chore. My mind was strained so much trying to figure out the songs that were played then, so much so I did not enjoy them at all.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
You can read about my take <a href="http://rahmanhariri.blogspot.com/2012/07/m-nasir-saved-by-suatu-masa.html" target="_blank">here</a>.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But this one is different. This Kembara concert is perhaps the best M Nasir concert that I have attended. M Nasir sounds exactly like - well - M Nasir, and Kembara sounds like Kembara in their albums. His voice is not a strain from trying too much and he sounded very natural, as if he had turned back the clock of time. </div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_1HP0YbaGL1lbZvMwQQViSDVL7M5xlz6yTo4pvEkm2vDhT5ee3vsMnJvvl_MeSzm7fbr8s1gsI-yThzB8FzcYRpFLtbF-Q8exVjtgg7g6NRKgoJeirVosgWbRUnRNyfOcV46JBJ61issG/s1600/kembara+1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_1HP0YbaGL1lbZvMwQQViSDVL7M5xlz6yTo4pvEkm2vDhT5ee3vsMnJvvl_MeSzm7fbr8s1gsI-yThzB8FzcYRpFLtbF-Q8exVjtgg7g6NRKgoJeirVosgWbRUnRNyfOcV46JBJ61issG/s1600/kembara+1.jpg" height="266" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Taken by MStar</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
With apology to S Sahlan and A Ali, of course, since this is supposed to be a Kembara concert. I thought they were excellent themselves.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
In fact, I thought it is because of A Ali and S Sahlan in their support roles, M Nasir is free from the burden of expectancy. This is the time he can become one with his friends, who understood his music.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Or perhaps in the absence of those Berkeley graduates, who messed up M Nasir's songs big time trying to westernize or philharmonizing them, M Nasir and Kembara were simply able to be themselves. Kidding, kidding hahaha, Dato. Love your Suatu Masa arrangement!<br />
<br />
I would declare that this is the best concert in a long, long time at the Istana Budaya.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
You know exactly what to expect from the trio, and it makes the concert more predictable.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
You know the intro, you know the key, and you know exactly when they are going to sing, stop, or hit the high pitch.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And that's why I love this concert.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
M Nasir is back at his best, to be honest. He was all over the place, and he made the stage his. It is so wonderful to see him so energetic and with a voice to match. I remember him saying many years ago how he could not get back the spirit when many of his songs were written - after 30 years have passed. I can understand that - then he was young, naive perhaps, fresh, single and definitely looking for love. Life was full of idealism and energy. 30 years on, you may get a beaten-up-by-life guy, though I am sure that's far from the case for M Nasir. But he is back at his best. As far as I am concerned, he is the young M Nasir who could hit the high notes as per all the songs in Kembara's albums. And he did not have to try very hard at all.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
A Ali was a bit more subdue; but he played his part with his low pitch voice. I really love di Perhentian Puduraya. So sad to remember the iconic bus station of Kuala Lumpur is still very much around after all these years. Or shall I say, so happy that it is still around, which is uncommon in Malaysia?<br />
<br />
I thought the banter between A Ali and M Nasir was hilarious.</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5k58guIOZJhGIyalbUVRm55Uphq5_h1jbhBzxKsy2xNDcQt7pmbPxzBa5U7vyuv_va5zyOpFDIb6sbvyAMvdORwi6JPg6-6zvR54Fjgjv4eDcOahFjlal7qnTGGoXiKvM1wlBytaIVExG/s1600/247194_755945574478050_6073653753227287099_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5k58guIOZJhGIyalbUVRm55Uphq5_h1jbhBzxKsy2xNDcQt7pmbPxzBa5U7vyuv_va5zyOpFDIb6sbvyAMvdORwi6JPg6-6zvR54Fjgjv4eDcOahFjlal7qnTGGoXiKvM1wlBytaIVExG/s1600/247194_755945574478050_6073653753227287099_n.jpg" height="296" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Taken by Arif </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And S Sahlan? What can I say of this unassuming man. He was the perfect foil for M Nasir; a real anti-thesis of M Nasir; everything that M Nasir is not, and he filled up those remaining slots on stage.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Perfect.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The moment they stepped out with the sunken stage raised, I knew I was in for a treat. Even for sentimentalist like me. The music starts filling up the small concert hall; I knew most of the songs, though not necessarily all the lyrics. And with the background montage, we were all set.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Ekspress Rakyat was filling up the concert hall. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The party is on.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Their music is normally for you to
start swinging your body. You are not supposed to sit passively on one's
seat, and wallow in one's grief or agony over that unrequited love. There was no such song. We are supposed to be celebrating about everything. You need to move. You need to sing along. And you got just that with Bas no 13, according to M Nasir is the bus he
would need to take to go to Geylang Serai, never mind that it would be
the second bus (no 12) to be taken from his home. <br />
<br />
It is a catchy song.<br />
<br />
(I did take Bas no 13 (and No 14). But is from Ampang Jaya. And it was bas mini No 13, of course.)</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="360" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/hCpoAtkb4hw" width="480"></iframe><br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
I
guess this is what is wonderful about Kembara's songs. They told a story
and the story is not necessarily the boy-meets-girl love story. It is not even a
significant story to be told; but nevertheless, it is a social story
for M Nasir. It is his story and the history of Singapore and Malaysia.<br />
<br />
I wonder who is Wan Chu and whether she is still alive today?<br />
<br />
So
they wrote songs about a bus, and a bus station. And about those nameless labourers?
And anything about insignificant daily events, and we paid them tonnes
of money to watch them perform in 2014?<br />
<br />
Wonderful!<br />
<br />
Akmal,
let's write songs about our trip to Tapah, about starting up a company,
about facebook page, about Air Asia, about Monash and Sunway, about mee goreng and roti canai. I am not
sure if anyone would want to hear us at all.<br />
<br />
Hahaha!<br />
<br />
Anyway,
let's get sentimental a bit, shall we?<i> Malam</i> to me is perhaps the best
ballad that night. I would cry listening to M Nasir crooning about the
darkness of the night. I really would. He sounds exactly like in the
original song, and it is full of longing and yearning.<br />
<br />
What else can I say about this song? [sigh]<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="360" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/xCLIsxV80XQ" width="480"></iframe><br />
<br />
And what about Keroncong untuk Ana, and Kiambang? Wonderful ballad from a soft rock group.<br />
<br />
But
I thought the best song would be Kupu-Kupu. I barely remember this song
to be honest, but once I hit play at Youtube, the night before, I know I
am going to love this song live by M Nasir. This song, to me, is ahead
of its time.<br />
<br />
The composition, the arrangement and the lyric - awesome.<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="360" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/hhPK5YL-mV0" width="480"></iframe><br />
<br />
Having said that, of course the highlight of the night would be the theme song Hati Emas. M Nasir really milk the audience into singing along with him. And the audience was willingly being milked by him. (Yes, milk us, milk us, says my sister who was there the next day.) We were all eating out of the palm of his hands. The song was played like for eternity.<br />
<br />
I thought if it went on for another couple of minutes, the panggung sari would collapse from the sheer sound of a full house audience singing at the top of their lungs, feeling very sure that they all sounded like M Nasir himself.<br />
<br />
I thought too I was that good, to be honest. I thought at that moment that night, I sound like M Nasir. I am sure Arif and Akmal sitting beside their dad had noticed how their dad had transformed into M Nasir!<br />
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/K0Ogatmz-9E" width="420"></iframe><br />
<br />
To
be honest, I would have watched them twice. Ot thrice, if someone was to sponsor me. They are that good, and
remembering the good, simple time of 1980s is too much for me to handle
on a single night. I want to experience it again, and if
possible, re-live the 80s all over again.<br />
<br />
If I could, I really would.<br />
<br />
Taiping, and Kuala Kangsar.<br />
<br />
Mak, and bapak.<br />
<br />
Melbourne and Perth.<br />
<br />
Kuala Lumpur, Ampang Jaya, Ampang Park, Pertama Complex and minibuses.<br />
<br />
Monash Uni and Chemical Engineering. <br />
<br />
Being single. Err.<br />
<br />
I did not have a car for most part of the 80s. I traveled by bus, or even
cycled to most places. I must admit that I have little money then. Well, may
be not exactly true. I have lotsa money from scholarship that I receive as a student. Relatively.<br />
<br />
I was not flushed with money. It is hard to come by. But I have little commitment, if any.<br />
<br />
Certainly we had enough. Life then was simple, and cheap. Fifty cents would get you going anywhere in
Kuala Lumpur by taking the mini buses. You struggled with the crowds, and
the twist-and-turn and sudden stop.<br />
<br />
And of course the smell of the sweating passengers, including yourself.<br />
<br />
I didn't dine at 5-star restaurant or at hotel. I ate at <i>warung tepi jalan</i>. I didn't pay top notch money to watch a concert in a glittering concert hall, unlike on Friday night. i only listen to cassette or radio.<br />
<br />
But that's life then.<br />
<br />
We were happy. Much happier. Or at least, I thought I was.<br />
<br />
Welcome
back, Kembara. Let's turn back the clock. As I have said, I would have watched
them all 3 nights. I really would, if I did not realize that I am over 50s and have just recovered from near death experience. So I did not. I thought at this age, I should at least heed to Kembara's song
about being sesat di Kuala Lumpur, about poverty, about corruption.<br />
<br />
And being big hearted - being Hati Emas.<br />
<br />
And not spend money on my own personal enjoyment.<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/CNNlZIRJD-0" width="560"></iframe> </div>
</div>
</div>
Rahman Haririhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04474408822740473103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8277656418926255733.post-16312481858729563322014-11-03T21:37:00.003+08:002014-11-03T21:47:58.102+08:00Serenading Juria<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #9fc5e8;">Prologue</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #9fc5e8;">In the 70s, specifically from 1974 onwards, we lived in a government bungalow located within the compound of the police barrack of Aulong, Taiping. I guess the bungalow was built for senior government officer, so for security reason, it is placed within the compound of the police barrack. One can't be at a safer place. Most of the time, the police officer on duty would be opening the main gate for us; at times, we would open it ourselves to show respect.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #9fc5e8;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #9fc5e8;">As I have mentioned in a-much-earlier entry (2010) - <a href="http://rahmanhariri.blogspot.com/2010/05/beautiful-houses-of-my-soul-taiping.html" target="_blank">Beautiful homes of my souls</a>, the barrack boys are of different materials than us. They were much more hardy and resilient. Tougher, if you must. Unlike us, I must admit.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #9fc5e8;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #9fc5e8;">I wrote about them being thick-skin having serenading a particular girl that caught their attention. Yes, they would, much to my amusement. I would never do such thing. Of course especially not today and certainly not during those years.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #9fc5e8;">But the song in particular was not really a big hit song, so I can't find it over at Youtube and posted in together with my entry.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #9fc5e8;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #9fc5e8;">Until I uploaded it myself last night.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #9fc5e8;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #9fc5e8;">This is a lesser known song of Hail Amir, but in 1978, I would think, this girl Ju (or Juria) was The girl at the Aulong Barrack. Perfect. I was really amused with the boys' antics to remember it until today.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="360" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/6GgVRUFlCQc" width="480"></iframe><br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<br />Serenading Juria<br /><br />And I certainly would not forget during one of the rare occasions I was at home - circa 77/78, a group of the Berek kids would sing Juria, a song popularised by Hail Amir. And they would sing it out loud; loud enough for me to hear them and remember it.<br /><br />Juriah, engkau cantik, engkau manis...so goes the lyric. I don't remember the whole thing now. It was not the most popular of Hail Amir's songs during those years, but there is a reason why the kids loved to sing this song in the 70's Aulong Police Station.<br /><br />For obvious reasons, there was this (pretty) girl called Ju - I am not sure if her actual name is Juriah or the Ju is just an initial of a slightly different name, I think, living in the police quarters, and she was the object of their attentions and affections.<br />
<br />As for me during those years, there were already many pretty gals in Kota Bharu, so I had never been bothered with the Berek gals! Obviously, I am trying to justify that I have nothing to do with this episode. <br /><br />And I would like to make full denial that I have anything to do with this! ;-)<br /><br />I remember this incident because I thought they were funny, and downright brave - if not foolish, to be doing what they did. Actually I found it amusing. It reminds of movies where the boy would serenade the girl at their home - and sometimes they got kicked at their ass by the gal's dad. PRamlee also has similar scene with S Samsudin trying to woo the maid in one of his movie - was it Antara Dua Darjat? But of course Wak Karto would come to the 'rescue' much to his chagrin.<br /><br />Brave indeed - these Berek kids. And they must have thick skin.<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #9fc5e8;">EPILOGUE</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #9fc5e8;">This is Juria, but not the Juria of the 70s. Of course I would not have a picture of the Barrack police Aulong's Juria.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #9fc5e8;">This is the Japanese version Juria and a fashion icon in Japan.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEXicGbt-nQKVmrDcMEt5hA0YtyrpxpfGHJZluDxM-SkVuocneeymw9Cqdg4EATfAbmMN9EnnOyp9NOUBdhMv1YN-N4zEgdU_KRmYHw_I4W7RP3HaSmK9zv7GAin8_4w7LEHyNAyy8XjVt/s1600/juria.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEXicGbt-nQKVmrDcMEt5hA0YtyrpxpfGHJZluDxM-SkVuocneeymw9Cqdg4EATfAbmMN9EnnOyp9NOUBdhMv1YN-N4zEgdU_KRmYHw_I4W7RP3HaSmK9zv7GAin8_4w7LEHyNAyy8XjVt/s1600/juria.JPG" height="266" width="400" /></a></div>
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Rahman Haririhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04474408822740473103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8277656418926255733.post-35375042895744370372014-10-26T13:30:00.001+08:002014-11-03T20:56:02.998+08:00Live-in Maid: Is it necessary?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I have never been a fan of the maid concept, especially live-in maid.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Why would anybody agree to work in another household, and to sleep and live there, and work day, and night, when there is no specific time to start working, and no ending time? It is like an open-ended thing, and with no privacy of one's own.<br />
<br />
And no dignity.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Yes, I do hire people to work in my office. But they have very specific terms of employment and it normally runs from 9-6 pm daily and for five days in a week.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Yes, there are many reasons for having maid or helper. To assist in the day to day running of the household. But I am not sure what the parents are doing then?</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Oh I am sorry. They are both working people</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But hang on a second, why are they both working? To get more money so that the family can live well, or perhaps just to making end's meet? Which one are they? Yalah, minyak dah naik harga dua puluh sen, teh tarik pun sama. There is not enough income earner in a family. I guess many have similar reasons for having maid. I don't have maid, had never had maids throughout my life and throughout my kids' lives, so I don't understand. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
OK, I guess, everybody have their own reasons. I don't walk in your shoes, so we do what we need to do. Bik, buat air teh ya. While you are at it, why don't you goreng cekodok di dapur ya? Oh and clean up table. Basuh sekali pinggan di sinki. La, kenapa dibiar anak bermain sendiri? Tolong tengok2kan ya. Oh jangan lupa sapu daun2 dilaman, dan keluarkan sampah ya.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Jangan lupa cuci baju.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Eh hari dah hujan. Bik, jangan lupa jemuran!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Aah well.<br />
<br />
It is one thing we work on whatever in our home. It is our home so if I wish to mow the lawn, it is my prerogative. I don't get paid for it. But I can choose to sleep all day in my living room, and no one will argue with me for doing that. So it is a big difference between voluntary and doing it as part and parcel of earning a living. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
For the past year, I have been going to office very early. I normally leave home by 0530 hours and I would normally be in office by 0630 hours. No, it did not take me too long to reach office, especially at that hour. I normally spend at least 30 mins at the local mosque near my office for my early dawn prayer, before clocking in at my office.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
No, I am not an exemplary boss, nor have I been an exemplary worker. I would vehemently deny that. ;) I just hate traffic, specifically traffic jam, so I would rather leave home in the wee hours of the morning than battling traffic at 7 am.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It is normally a blissful ride and the air is so fresh.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZIq_u8Wx0LvyvmK9t1Sa-IJdZXTp_MTWO1qNsUbYpyEUi_WLGcP3FF55NdVQR5bdbZwMi2U9kH-k4EsJFn4MRcnR5eESleI5wvItRWcj9Gk4uYy6dLiFTj4BneYIILyzZmLH1FauW_msy/s1600/Maid+washing+car.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZIq_u8Wx0LvyvmK9t1Sa-IJdZXTp_MTWO1qNsUbYpyEUi_WLGcP3FF55NdVQR5bdbZwMi2U9kH-k4EsJFn4MRcnR5eESleI5wvItRWcj9Gk4uYy6dLiFTj4BneYIILyzZmLH1FauW_msy/s1600/Maid+washing+car.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The maid washing the car at 5.30 in the morning. It is not that clear, but it is not my<br />
intention to have problems with my neighbours, so it is better it is not<br />
clear so as not to identifythe location.. You could see the black figure<br />
on the left side of the circle.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But I saw this scene last week. A maid cleaning up his boss' car at 0530 hours. Is it really necessary? I wonder what time she slept the night before, but normally it would be after everybody has gone to sleep, I am sure. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Can one not clean up one's own car? Or if you are like me, well, I have a very fine looking dirty car, perhaps the finest looking dirty car in KL. Hahaha.<br />
<br />
It is one thing if she is preparing breakfast or making coffee. I would not mind having my cuppa at 0530 hours. I am sure that would wake up all my sleepy limbs. But washing cars?<br />
<br />
Unless one's car is Lamborghini or a Ferrari!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Come on lah, have a maid if you must. But restrict the hours, and have specific tasks that she needs to undertake. Nothing more, it can be less. She should not be cleaning cars at 5 am in the morning.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
If possible, do not have live-in maid; otherwise it will be difficult to have specific working hours, similar to office work. But I am sure if we try enough, we can do it. We now live in the 21st century. There is no need for slavery anymore. People have dignity too. Just because we have money, it does not mean we can hire people and work them for 20 hours.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And pay them pittance.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Help!</div>
</div>
Rahman Haririhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04474408822740473103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8277656418926255733.post-68307892580136726652014-10-22T09:23:00.002+08:002014-10-22T20:02:02.261+08:00Arif Fauzan Othman: Remember his name!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyzFb2AEg5S62J63ecJuCLsZvHFXKsRncQry7rMxijbNHPLDmNb1S0O8HFJpGXDfBbtOlF3GMzNdfzqL1PL9eXk8WzfT8SJGJVooSFFU_g9j0IbzXVQHLOgODg0kaswiBd3kmPWqICdMfM/s1600/Eclipse+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyzFb2AEg5S62J63ecJuCLsZvHFXKsRncQry7rMxijbNHPLDmNb1S0O8HFJpGXDfBbtOlF3GMzNdfzqL1PL9eXk8WzfT8SJGJVooSFFU_g9j0IbzXVQHLOgODg0kaswiBd3kmPWqICdMfM/s1600/Eclipse+3.jpg" height="392" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eclipse 1</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I can't - for the life of me - explain about psychodynamic
figurative that Arif Fauzan Othman is renowned for. In the world of
arts, I am illiterate, uneducated and uncultured. We may be cousins, but
we are world apart in artistic sense.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Ojan," I texted him a couple of days earlier. "AbangMan will be at the gallery on Wednesday." </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Fortunately I was the only one that time, so I have a monopoly of his
mind, and so he explained to me every single details of the paintings
hanging at Ar<span class="text_exposed_show">ti Fine Art Gallery in Melawati.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Man and mother nature," Arif Fauzan Othman said of the theme of his
solo exhibition. The man in all his painting represents – well - Man. Men. Mankind. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia4EdO97-ZgpdlY-TZewSISZdL8D0ISGOs34A8X_iLg6U8bKMtcey8YPltL-JxYQTB1s_R3t2957Iukxl0B5tZcNldFCjfcIwGefvTHudel5A33G2C3lfg1dmLPnWj0jSXuQ1_Gk72hm6S/s1600/Behind.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia4EdO97-ZgpdlY-TZewSISZdL8D0ISGOs34A8X_iLg6U8bKMtcey8YPltL-JxYQTB1s_R3t2957Iukxl0B5tZcNldFCjfcIwGefvTHudel5A33G2C3lfg1dmLPnWj0jSXuQ1_Gk72hm6S/s1600/Behind.jpg" height="640" width="264" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shadow Beyond A Catastrophe.You can see the smoke billowing out on the foreground</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And the destruction that follows him.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Look at Shadow Beyond A Catastrophe above. A man standing over what I perceive as the body of another man. Murder case? May be. You interpretation is as good as mine. But for sure it is a destruction by men on men. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The ladies in his painting do not (necessarily) represent – well – the
womenfolk. As usual, they are bigger than that. They represent Mother Nature; Mother Earth if you must. No wonder
the colour he chose are earth colours and grim. No wonder I can’t find
smiles on their faces. They are not - unlike the man - gruesome; they are beautiful as usually they are, but they certainly look sad. The
paintings are beauties in sadness. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
A friend, one Soraya M remarked: "<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".6.1:3:1:$comment735523696502187_735574433163780:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".6.1:3:1:$comment735523696502187_735574433163780:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".6.1:3:1:$comment735523696502187_735574433163780:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$end:0:$0:0">She's so pretty, in a sad and haunting way. Makes a good subject."</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-reactid=".6.1:3:1:$comment735523696502187_735574433163780:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body"><span class="UFICommentBody" data-reactid=".6.1:3:1:$comment735523696502187_735574433163780:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0"><span data-reactid=".6.1:3:1:$comment735523696502187_735574433163780:0.0.$right.0.$left.0.0.1:$comment-body.0.$end:0:$0:0">It does. </span></span></span> </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Who is she? I did not ask in detail from the artist. Perhaps I never will. Sometimes there are things best left alone. And unknown. It will be more mysterious that way. I have seen a few pictures of her as shown by the artist, but I do understand that the two are sisters. She made pretty good muse for the artist.<br />
<br />
We shall leave it at that. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXYBbWNiyWtvbN0sdXzbh31sCI1unIJ9n9DXZadd6X_LPE2laNpGKrlvgK5UkrsrQTxqBqbv955KU4OY37DNTw9_SsOAWcq0Oq0FiS-xtjuJQQEIXxTCPPKvg12Qn4BA4NMdnfgFbgULah/s1600/Eclipse+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXYBbWNiyWtvbN0sdXzbh31sCI1unIJ9n9DXZadd6X_LPE2laNpGKrlvgK5UkrsrQTxqBqbv955KU4OY37DNTw9_SsOAWcq0Oq0FiS-xtjuJQQEIXxTCPPKvg12Qn4BA4NMdnfgFbgULah/s1600/Eclipse+4.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eclipse 2</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Arif Fauzan admitted that it is easier to sell painting of the girls and a bit more difficult to sell man's painting. I have no doubt of that. The paintings of the girls are more pleasant to the eyes, even to a neutral like me - especially to neutrals like me! I could easily consider them adorning my walls, but would be hesitant to - errrr - consider the gal's counterparts..</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I am not sure I can look at him on a daily basis. Another man - a stranger at that in my house? Definitely not! (Hahaha)</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It can also be reflected in the sale of Arif's masterpieces. Only a couple of the Mother Nature series have not been sold from an entry of, say, 10. I would consider them sold out. But if I am not mistaken the paintings with the male character have not takers at that time of visiting.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
In any case, I would think it is a good solo exhibition by Arif Fauzan. According to the Arti Fine Art gallery owner, one En Yusri, in the old days (read:70s or 80s), it is difficult to sell even a single painting. Things however have changed over the years. The fact that more than half have been sold speaks volume for Arif Fauzan's talent.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Things have certainly changed. People are more affluent nowadays, and more appreciative of work of art, and are now willing to spend over a masterpiece.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Even I would be willing to spend money on this piece - she has certainly caught my eyes. If only this piece is available, I'd pay the asking price. But then again, may be I am willing to say that since I can't have it regardless.</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggx2xj-tlHFKgB3y-odnjCQK-7TjOEY7wP8YaPL9obXTAt2gLWYJ9dZiUm3epo14JC5Vd6Oz-rNoQrM8CKkFWfWEoNh-KwFJ4_Yoc0ol4hfJ_OKm3BBrV4Gdp3mHzCyJdklRpv0MgC3BAV/s1600/Ambergris.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggx2xj-tlHFKgB3y-odnjCQK-7TjOEY7wP8YaPL9obXTAt2gLWYJ9dZiUm3epo14JC5Vd6Oz-rNoQrM8CKkFWfWEoNh-KwFJ4_Yoc0ol4hfJ_OKm3BBrV4Gdp3mHzCyJdklRpv0MgC3BAV/s1600/Ambergris.jpg" height="318" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ambergris</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And to be honest, I would need to buy a new house just to hang Ambergris. It is that big. You would need an empty wall in a big living room. Make that a living hall and your hall would look elegant, I can promise you that. Ambergris is a lively piece; very unlike other pieces. May be because of the colour scheme. It is cheerful.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And I love the pose - the form, if you must. The setting has been carefully choreographed by the artist in his imagination. The girl is at peace; the setting is solitude.</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ7gr2FcJ0wyp24ZwIFoDKcTlFHvDdUUOWRLcjhQT5odoTg1G1x9CyZX8muqETOK3PsRmruj0NMu_RTekx-kzeiejPBVvuDk2jORRnai-8Zlm1nyyN3i611i4FEAJYJebsBSLSwidS_gps/s1600/Ojan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ7gr2FcJ0wyp24ZwIFoDKcTlFHvDdUUOWRLcjhQT5odoTg1G1x9CyZX8muqETOK3PsRmruj0NMu_RTekx-kzeiejPBVvuDk2jORRnai-8Zlm1nyyN3i611i4FEAJYJebsBSLSwidS_gps/s1600/Ojan.jpg" height="242" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The artist with the blogger with Ambergris. This is how big the painting is</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Since that is unavailable, I would have to consider other alternative. I'd like to keep one of his painting at home. I already have one. So I decided on this piece. It is called Northern Light. </div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQwc82rHapymCLJejPAZhuUHkd4AvE6ZhBlnOYbOXwkzubY7r1PbtyZNSUr8QmlrXKN-dxZyxdVnGQmeGG-5yrJDHgTtRzDGR7-Lr9Zwhe6WOaxu7tdoh04V8MYvckbJp40de2edeCh_79/s1600/Northern+Light.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQwc82rHapymCLJejPAZhuUHkd4AvE6ZhBlnOYbOXwkzubY7r1PbtyZNSUr8QmlrXKN-dxZyxdVnGQmeGG-5yrJDHgTtRzDGR7-Lr9Zwhe6WOaxu7tdoh04V8MYvckbJp40de2edeCh_79/s1600/Northern+Light.jpg" height="400" width="308" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Northern Light</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Northern Light may sound English - western to be precise but she represent the Malay demeanour with her attire and posing. It would suit my house decor, I believe. This would be coming to my home after 31 Oct, at the end of the exhibition. It is an investment. I'd pray that Arif Fauzan would become very big in the near future. And his work would appreciate in value!<br />
<br />
But I am not buying to sell later. I am buying so that I have something I can pass down the generations!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Going back to his paintings, this is what the artist has to say; in Arif Fauzan's own words:</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We live in the world of constant battle<br />
Between Man and Mother Nature<br />
The ones that should be living together<br />
Not challenging one another<br />
Intelligence morphed for more destruction<br />
The faith is gone and so is humanity<br />
For control and monopoly<br />
In the name of freedom<br />
freedom from our land'<br />
freedom from our privacy<br />
freedom from our will</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Here are what I saw at the gallery that day.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqwSdOHoIdE0SkGv44YTUSlySTEY618TetArK8RYJ3DqSSOSNl6JAUu1HFtBPJjN2sivGWOXDT6DURx_v6sUOQfWy1IwU0eAHoDkzpUoAOcXCpVmTbPdeqmZneX-AsKaaGb-ux6U8xRbRX/s1600/Eclipse+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqwSdOHoIdE0SkGv44YTUSlySTEY618TetArK8RYJ3DqSSOSNl6JAUu1HFtBPJjN2sivGWOXDT6DURx_v6sUOQfWy1IwU0eAHoDkzpUoAOcXCpVmTbPdeqmZneX-AsKaaGb-ux6U8xRbRX/s1600/Eclipse+2.jpg" height="307" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tree Hugger 1 series</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxYt2toI7_G4en2Cm6EG7yhFlrJarK9nwZo7A9fhWL09OktqsEp3DZ3MTl2if-vDwR5mIqOZ9znIxAuuT-uTj_NotBAJdyT39XnWeWZBPGOygW9dzM5r2D9LagWOfLLtfoy4RC6Sk8XCYo/s1600/Eclipse1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxYt2toI7_G4en2Cm6EG7yhFlrJarK9nwZo7A9fhWL09OktqsEp3DZ3MTl2if-vDwR5mIqOZ9znIxAuuT-uTj_NotBAJdyT39XnWeWZBPGOygW9dzM5r2D9LagWOfLLtfoy4RC6Sk8XCYo/s1600/Eclipse1.jpg" height="319" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tree Hugger 2 series</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKDnqv-rw2WSUx_VT-Yc7n7dNmOOJMGTV7qCGz1enK14X2gTZvLqFrcu9z_Jv4EKnVBiLRXixtFkrXOhqQvr6dKlUJrxeqxV0FzPGmk6BBwSiKY0JQjrN4H78g041o8KkUY92rgJLM-6Er/s1600/Strain.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKDnqv-rw2WSUx_VT-Yc7n7dNmOOJMGTV7qCGz1enK14X2gTZvLqFrcu9z_Jv4EKnVBiLRXixtFkrXOhqQvr6dKlUJrxeqxV0FzPGmk6BBwSiKY0JQjrN4H78g041o8KkUY92rgJLM-6Er/s1600/Strain.jpg" height="320" width="215" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stain on Your Fingernails</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8_IukqitSOu8T3-OiAEdXG5UYLW0QkgiLhUyisShTG0Rx7Q8BvmuE_l1uS85UE__yYwgLnb0Z0f6jMMu1z6T8gSuyHkVpR1pMTkZVeKrqMa_BPoyyAhOcwPKwvnHCHXwEeZiZ1Ni-6vVT/s1600/Devious+Boxes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8_IukqitSOu8T3-OiAEdXG5UYLW0QkgiLhUyisShTG0Rx7Q8BvmuE_l1uS85UE__yYwgLnb0Z0f6jMMu1z6T8gSuyHkVpR1pMTkZVeKrqMa_BPoyyAhOcwPKwvnHCHXwEeZiZ1Ni-6vVT/s1600/Devious+Boxes.jpg" height="212" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Out of Devious Boxes</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #9fc5e8;">EPILOGUE</span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #9fc5e8;">If you remember, in December 2013, I posted an entry called <span style="color: #d0e0e3;"><a href="http://rahmanhariri.blogspot.com/2013/12/old-paintings-by-othmansor.html" target="_blank">Old Painting by Othmansor</a></span>. His real name is obviously Othman bin Mansor and of course he is related to Arif Fauzan Othman. He is the father.</span><br />
<span style="color: #9fc5e8;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #9fc5e8;">You can read about the entry <a href="http://rahmanhariri.blogspot.com/2013/12/old-paintings-by-othmansor.html" target="_blank">here</a>.</span><br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
</div>
Rahman Haririhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04474408822740473103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8277656418926255733.post-61037328378088434042014-10-01T17:00:00.000+08:002014-10-04T10:51:34.653+08:00Membenarkan Yang Biasa, Membiasakan Yang Benar<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Most of the time, I found riding a cab stressful.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It would normally be a matter of time when - not if - I would be cheated out of my fare.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Don't get me wrong. The last of time I rode one to Bukit Bintang from my office, nothing unusual happened. The last time a friend forgot his computer bag, it was returned by the cab driver who operates out of Bandar Tun Razak.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
So it could merely be my impression. As people say, <i>susu sebelanga rusak dik nila setitik</i>, though again, I am under the impression that there are more than a <i>setitik nila</i> as far as errant cab drivers are concerned.</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd_Qlv9VmwuzfKaINE6oJKvlesMuXoj1jXM5Dc_la0Si2CpsWN7sl5GVJu9zh5ClKO68B2Oj6ALhJovHv13ZJbdam_-rGP_3385wYtGT_QnGFp93mKND0cRRKHZyaGgcgqyxXNiFLPa3ET/s1600/taksi-mewah-di-jakarta-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd_Qlv9VmwuzfKaINE6oJKvlesMuXoj1jXM5Dc_la0Si2CpsWN7sl5GVJu9zh5ClKO68B2Oj6ALhJovHv13ZJbdam_-rGP_3385wYtGT_QnGFp93mKND0cRRKHZyaGgcgqyxXNiFLPa3ET/s1600/taksi-mewah-di-jakarta-3.jpg" height="198" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is not Pak Sujono's cab. I did not hire nor can I afford this ride </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
For the first time, I decided not to wait for my normal Bluebird Cab in Cengkareng. At peak hour, they did not seem to be coming at all. So instead I took Pak Sujono's Proton Persona Borobudur cab. As we were heading out of Sukarno-Hatta's Terminal 3, we passed by the flyover to downtown. That exit was manned by Pak Polisi, so traffic was under controlled even though it was peak hour.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
So he said, "Well, only when the police are there!"</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I laughed. I told not to be too hard on Indonesia. It is the same in Malaysia, though things are very different in developed country. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Benar," he replied. "It will take many generations to correct the wrongs."</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The he said something that caught my attention, though I have to ask him to say a few times to digest the content. Of course we were speaking in Bahasa, so it took me a bit longer to digest it. Be he said it beautifully.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"<i>Janganlah kita membenarkan yang biasa; seharusnya kita membiasakan yang benar, </i>" he continued.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I paused for many moments to mull over these words.I even had to ask him to repeat a few times.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"We have to go against the traditions, and do only the correct things. Traditions do not mean that they are correct. We may have done them for generations, but then, many a time we did not know any better. For example, if anyone dies, according to the tradition, the tahlil sessions will be conducted for 7 days and again at the 40th day. It causes a lot of hardship to the deceased's family. This is not right, but this is the tradition in Java. Muhammadiyah would not allow this anymore."<br />
<br />
I nodded in agreement. Whole-heartedly. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Have you heard of the predator fish and the small fish?" he asked me. I said no.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Normally they can't be together in an aquarium for obvious reason, but someone had done this experimentation. They put the small fish in a small glass compartment (in the aquarium), so the big, predator fish would attack the small fish to eat them. But of course, the predator fish did not realize about the glass wall, so it keeps on hitting the glass wall.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And it hurts them.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"It happens many time such that when the small fish is released to the main aquarium, it was never attacked again by the predator fish!" he concluded.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I'd take the story at face value and I believe we can be "conditioned" in similar fashion. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
If we have a good system, everybody would follow them. Look at Singapore, he continued, even Indonesians would follow the law there and would be a very disciplined driver in Singapore.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I smiled. Of course, I noted in my mind, even the supposedly discipline Singapore driver would drive as recklessly as their Malaysian counterparts when they are driving on the highways of Peninsular!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
That's Pak Sujono for you. He seems like a well read and knowledgeable person. But he was only schooled up to Kelas 5. He told me so. I guess that that would be standard 5 in primary school. "Dulu bapak saya seorang preman and he had not encouraged me to do well in school."<br />
<br />
But do not get him wrong. He did not blame his dad. Just telling the fact as it is. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I guess he learned a lot in the university of life. He even quoted me Ayat 85 in Surah al-Baqarah. I can probably quote you the first 10 verses of the same chapter!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We talked about many more stories from Sukarno and the ideological war that went into Indonesia's independence, between him and this two other buddies. This uneducated cab driver from Java is really educated about life as a whole. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Thank you Pak Sujono for a very enlightening ride. To me, he is a Porche class cab driver and a great ambassador for Indonesia.</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #9fc5e8;">EPILOGUE</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #9fc5e8;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #9fc5e8;">Actually I did not try to argue with him on the fish story. I read about fish 30 years ago, just after I returned home in 1986. Monash would send me their post graduate magazine to me, I am not sure whether it was yearly or twice yearly. I remember about one of the article was about fish and whether would feel pain (as we human would).</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #9fc5e8;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #9fc5e8;">I am not sure about the conclusion then. But browsing through the net, I am told that fish do not feel pain as we would. They do not have the neuro-physiological capacity as we do.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #9fc5e8;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #9fc5e8;">Fortunately for us.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #9fc5e8;">Because if they do, we might be banned from eating fish.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs3qsfqZGW74QEPch7CWVnmbhZcN897S_VOKXO3ggasA2rCJ5A-WAK-TG409JKclfp_NgW69AXzjJ4BsJjxTJU3IqWlFATy7MSQg6zzN0vybtI5Gnq-Ok0ZF8aaElp9mV6HpXc7pLrPkKt/s1600/trout+fish.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs3qsfqZGW74QEPch7CWVnmbhZcN897S_VOKXO3ggasA2rCJ5A-WAK-TG409JKclfp_NgW69AXzjJ4BsJjxTJU3IqWlFATy7MSQg6zzN0vybtI5Gnq-Ok0ZF8aaElp9mV6HpXc7pLrPkKt/s1600/trout+fish.jpg" height="228" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The hook of a fishing lure is stuck in the upper jaw of this rainbow
trout. Whether the animal feels pain is not verified beyond any doubt,
according to a new study.<br />
<div style="padding-top: 2px; text-align: right;">
<i>Credit: Alexander Schwab</i></div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="color: #9fc5e8;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #9fc5e8;"></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #9fc5e8;">Read about it <a href="http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2013/08/130808123719.htm">here</a>.</span></div>
</div>
Rahman Haririhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04474408822740473103noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8277656418926255733.post-12196734357455501872014-09-28T19:54:00.001+08:002014-09-28T20:04:07.582+08:00Damba di Dada<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBEiMvqmPd3EFfwccKAr-oCE2cBOpBolE2M3T_JtYgZZSC3vKiYRrdpaUQBD5BbMeU3iQM8MvgsUsxilRgE9VUQLXVtP66YGsatZmtCdFa4NtpjunMjcOlYONAfIZ9VPjUhW5KXllTZu9X/s1600/Liya.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBEiMvqmPd3EFfwccKAr-oCE2cBOpBolE2M3T_JtYgZZSC3vKiYRrdpaUQBD5BbMeU3iQM8MvgsUsxilRgE9VUQLXVtP66YGsatZmtCdFa4NtpjunMjcOlYONAfIZ9VPjUhW5KXllTZu9X/s1600/Liya.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
This song reminds me of Dungeon, the coastal town of the state of Terengganu. A town with no shopping mall.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But with a beautiful beach. Perhaps the most beautiful beach in Malaysia.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I had been working for sometime by then, but may be only a year in Terengganu, when I decided to move from Kerteh. I had to commute daily as it was 30 km from office, but luckily I have friends to pool car with.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
She was a not the most glamorest of singers in the late 80s. May be because she was not a looker, but I was caught by her voice and the Malay melodies of most of her songs. Her album has no killer song, but I must say most of her songs are candies to my ears.<br />
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A time when when rock music was the music of the time, so her keroncong and Malay melody laden songs were a breath of fresh air to me. </div>
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Then I was living in a kampung house - on stilt. </div>
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Simple music for simple time.</div>
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Rahman Haririhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04474408822740473103noreply@blogger.com0