Remember CapeBoy – that lovely little brat whom I found to be terribly annoying and distracting at last year’s tarawikh prayers…? Well, guess what..he’s back..! I could hardly believe my eyes (ears, rather) when I noticed him 2 nights ago. And he’s got the same PJs with the same flowing red cape..! (actually he’s grown taller, so this must be a new pair…..) And he’s as wild as before..! No..actually he’s even wilder!!
He had a new friend that nite and together they were literally partying the night away behind the rows of muslimah in the dewan solat. I was late so I was in the last row and somewhere in between the prayers I couldn’t’ take it any longer so I tried to get their attention but of course they were totally oblivious.
Yes, where the heck is the mother..? Soon I spotted the same maid, the one whom I had noticed last year and was taken for a horsey. The one on whom CapeBoy had merrily climbed when she was in the middle of prayers. Well, she has progressed…! Progressed to praying further up, which means she was not in that last row so she could keep her eyes on her charge routine.
The boys were running around, playing catch (ok, lepas ni awak jadi ye, lepas tu saya jadi..) yes, I heard all of this ok – God help me..
There was also another boy who was not as noisy but was also running about. I noticed his mother was praying in the same row I was and so I glared and said aloud “bising nya” but she just gave a blank look and smiled at her son whenever he came near her. Can you believe the nerve of some people??
After terawikh was over I waited to try catch sight of CapeBoy’s mother but no such luck. I went out of the hall and as I was about to leave, I saw CapeBoy and his new sidekick near the food table fooling around. I turned, gave my best I-mean-business glare and told them, “adik – awak berdua bising sangat tau. Orang sembahyang, tak baik bising” The maid gave me a funy look – hmmph, like I care.
The following night, CapeBoy was dressed as black spidey. No change in behavior. This time one lady in the front row, probably ajk masjid kut, got up before tarawikh, clapped her hands to get attention and loudly asked, “ anak sapa ni, tolong control anak sikit, control sikit..” I swear I was trying hard to hide a gleeful smirk on my face.
Later that night as I was leaving I saw him climbing the banisters at the stairs of the main entrance. I realized his maid and elder sister were there…as mere spectators. So I couldn’t resist giving them a piece of my mind. Also quite a colorful character – the sister. She talks to the brother in such a condescending way, very kasar. Maid was just looking, doing absolutely nothing while this boy kept climbing the banister of tangga masjid. They later walked to the parking, still no mother in sight… I then wondered what kind of home they were going back to…Smallville….?? Or was it Gotham City…
Friday, September 21, 2007
Thursday, September 13, 2007
Here Comes Ramadhan again
Alhamdulillah we are all still here to enjoy yet another Ramadhan. And so began our regular drive to the neighborhood mosque for tarawikh last night. I have no problems with parents who wish to bring their children for tarawikh, nak menjinakkan anak-anak dengan masjid, yes, by all means.
But that only applies if the children can behave. And by that I think most jemaah are only just expecting the kids to be relatively quiet. Absolute silence is not what is expected, just no running around, no crying, no yelling. Fair enough right?
Last night, just after Isyak, a woman garbed in full jubah walked in with two boys aged around 4 and 5 years old respectively. The woman was also noticeably pregnant too. Her boys were in baju melayu complete with kopiah, and funnily enough I noticed the woolen skull caps bore the words Anak Soleh.
Ok, yes, it is the first day of Ramadhan and I really should not be too critical etc etc.. But these kids, they were far from little angles ok. There were quite a number of children there, my 6 year old included. There were a few who were younger but these boisterous boys should have just stayed home. They were playful. They were loud. They were screaming at one another, crying at times. They were driving me crazy! And I was sure I wasn’t the only one feeling that way.
In between “sets” I tried to turn my gaze at the mother to give a nice glare but I was not seated close enough. Those who were, moved farther away from them.
What puzzles me is where is the father…hello….??
I guess the mother finally came to her senses, and finally left before the 8 rakaat were over. I simply fail to understand why some parents can’t use their own good judgment. Should you not know your own kids, if they are the type of kids who can behave and who will listen when you tell them to ‘be quiet?
Frankly I feel lebih besar pahala if they stay away and tarawikh at home, rather than datang masjid and mengganggu jemaah lain. And all this just after the mukadimmah from the pengerusi masjid just minutes earlier about parents who bring their kids and end up causing a ruckus.
I wonder if I’ll see her and the kids again tonite. Honestly, I hope not.
But that only applies if the children can behave. And by that I think most jemaah are only just expecting the kids to be relatively quiet. Absolute silence is not what is expected, just no running around, no crying, no yelling. Fair enough right?
Last night, just after Isyak, a woman garbed in full jubah walked in with two boys aged around 4 and 5 years old respectively. The woman was also noticeably pregnant too. Her boys were in baju melayu complete with kopiah, and funnily enough I noticed the woolen skull caps bore the words Anak Soleh.
Ok, yes, it is the first day of Ramadhan and I really should not be too critical etc etc.. But these kids, they were far from little angles ok. There were quite a number of children there, my 6 year old included. There were a few who were younger but these boisterous boys should have just stayed home. They were playful. They were loud. They were screaming at one another, crying at times. They were driving me crazy! And I was sure I wasn’t the only one feeling that way.
In between “sets” I tried to turn my gaze at the mother to give a nice glare but I was not seated close enough. Those who were, moved farther away from them.
What puzzles me is where is the father…hello….??
I guess the mother finally came to her senses, and finally left before the 8 rakaat were over. I simply fail to understand why some parents can’t use their own good judgment. Should you not know your own kids, if they are the type of kids who can behave and who will listen when you tell them to ‘be quiet?
Frankly I feel lebih besar pahala if they stay away and tarawikh at home, rather than datang masjid and mengganggu jemaah lain. And all this just after the mukadimmah from the pengerusi masjid just minutes earlier about parents who bring their kids and end up causing a ruckus.
I wonder if I’ll see her and the kids again tonite. Honestly, I hope not.
Tuesday, September 04, 2007
NEGARAKU EYE OPENER
How often do you get a chance to stand up straight in respect of the national anthem? If you’re no longer a school going kid, and just a regular adult like me - apart from the occasional theater presentations or football matches that I go to, not very often.
Last week, Malaysia celebrated her 50th Merdeka and due to the insistence of our 6 year old, we found ourselves outside the Merdeka stadium late that Friday evening. The stadium was full to its brim and there was no way anyone could enter by the time we arrived. My husband though, decided to just hang around outside the stadium entrance for a few minutes just to breathe in the ambience.
People were all around us. There were hundreds of event participants who were slowly filing into the stadium, police officers who were on a break from their duties of escorting traffic and VIPs, tourists who had probably come to check what the fuss was all about and many others like us who could not get access into the stadium. We were all chatting amongst ourselves and most of the folks were indulging in people watching.
Before long we could hear the unmistakable voice of Mahadzir Lokman announcing from inside the stadium that it was time for Negaraku. Our son got to his feet immediately and we followed suit. At the time I noticed that people continued to do whatever it was that they were doing but only for a moment. In the blink of an eye I found that everyone actually stopped – dead in their tracks! It was an unbelievable sight!! They were all standing up straight - no matter where they had been sitting around, standing or walking about; they were all on their feet, hands by their sides.
These were people just loitering outside the stadium where the real action was and who were busy talking or walking around just moments earlier. But when the national anthem reverberated from within the stadium, everyone went quiet and knew exactly what to do. That seriously gave me goose bumps…! And frankly, I found it to be a rather emotional scene.
Not long after, we were on a joy ride on the monorail when our 6 year old suddenly started singing softly to himself, “Malaysiaku gemilang, merdekanya terbilang….” and soon nearly the entire front section which was mostly made up of young college going kids began to sing along and together they finished the entire song. That totally spontaneous scene was a truly perfect Petronas ad moment!!
I am ashamed to admit that I was probably a skeptic before, and uncertain of the depth of our nationalism. That night I saw the merdeka spirit alive and well. Perhaps there is hope for the country after all.
Last week, Malaysia celebrated her 50th Merdeka and due to the insistence of our 6 year old, we found ourselves outside the Merdeka stadium late that Friday evening. The stadium was full to its brim and there was no way anyone could enter by the time we arrived. My husband though, decided to just hang around outside the stadium entrance for a few minutes just to breathe in the ambience.
People were all around us. There were hundreds of event participants who were slowly filing into the stadium, police officers who were on a break from their duties of escorting traffic and VIPs, tourists who had probably come to check what the fuss was all about and many others like us who could not get access into the stadium. We were all chatting amongst ourselves and most of the folks were indulging in people watching.
Before long we could hear the unmistakable voice of Mahadzir Lokman announcing from inside the stadium that it was time for Negaraku. Our son got to his feet immediately and we followed suit. At the time I noticed that people continued to do whatever it was that they were doing but only for a moment. In the blink of an eye I found that everyone actually stopped – dead in their tracks! It was an unbelievable sight!! They were all standing up straight - no matter where they had been sitting around, standing or walking about; they were all on their feet, hands by their sides.
These were people just loitering outside the stadium where the real action was and who were busy talking or walking around just moments earlier. But when the national anthem reverberated from within the stadium, everyone went quiet and knew exactly what to do. That seriously gave me goose bumps…! And frankly, I found it to be a rather emotional scene.
Not long after, we were on a joy ride on the monorail when our 6 year old suddenly started singing softly to himself, “Malaysiaku gemilang, merdekanya terbilang….” and soon nearly the entire front section which was mostly made up of young college going kids began to sing along and together they finished the entire song. That totally spontaneous scene was a truly perfect Petronas ad moment!!
I am ashamed to admit that I was probably a skeptic before, and uncertain of the depth of our nationalism. That night I saw the merdeka spirit alive and well. Perhaps there is hope for the country after all.
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Muzikal PUTRA
It’s been a long while since my last entry. A few things happened along the way, none which I care to elaborate on. Suffice to say the mood to write was not a frequent occasion these last few weeks. Anyway, today I wish to share my most recent theatre experience, the Putra musical.
The last time I was IB, it was to watch the now legendary PGL, that big budget, big everything production. This time around, it was a show which was obviously a subsided affair because tickets at IB are rarely ever priced at a flat rate of RM10.
As far as Merdeka goes, and if you were to ask ask what it means to me, I can only say this – now, after nearly 40 years of living, I can finally say it has deep significance. Sad isn’t it..taht it took me so long. Frankly, all those years growing up it never really meant much more than a public holiday where I sleep in, and later watch our Assuntarian school band on tv. Then as I had kids, it was something I still prefer to watch on tv until some years ago when hubby dearest decided it could be fun to go watch the fireworks and later the merdeka parade. Recently since the parade moved to a much expansive area like Putrajaya and having one of my best friends as part of a contingent, we braved rain or shine and joined in the crowd. And that I must say was the first time it hit me, this thing is BIG. And for the first time ever, I had goosebumps as I sang the national anthem with thousands of other Malaysians.
Then several nights ago, I went to watch the Putra musical. And apparently so did hundreds of young Malaysians. And that was definitely a scene that warms the heart. Although I have heard many of the tales that were weaved into the play that night but somehow, this time the patriotic bug hit me – hard. Seeing dad constantly wipe his tears as he was seated in front of me, I began to wonder if maybe, just maybe, those tears were not just the tears of a man who was sentimental and easily moved, but rather of a man who knew the pain, and recognized the pride.
I too was choked up with emotion, and so was hubby dearest. The scenes, they touched me somehow and the passion that was reverberating throughout then entire Panggung Sari was powerful beyond belief. I truly walked out of there with a whole new perspective, and a renewed sense of admiration, respect and gratitude like never before.
It was not difficult to see why my husband wanted to spend another evening to watch the play with our boys. And so we went again a couple nights ago and had a blast. This time it was the final show and the national sprit was alive and well. The crowd was wonderful and appreciative. And the mood was like no other. The mood was built up throughout the night, the emcee played his part tremendously well and the appreciative crowd sang every single patriotic song with all their hearts.
I suppose we have come a long way, and if Malaysia were a woman, she’d probably one who has seen much laughter and tears, pride and heartache. She must be proud of her children but at the same time worried about their future and at times uncertain of their sense of independence. Her smile may hide many years of hurt and disappointments and her mind may wonder where she had gone wrong with some of her younger ones.
Nonetheless, she must be one tough cookie..and raring to shoulder on, come what may.
Selamat Hari Merdeka…
The last time I was IB, it was to watch the now legendary PGL, that big budget, big everything production. This time around, it was a show which was obviously a subsided affair because tickets at IB are rarely ever priced at a flat rate of RM10.
As far as Merdeka goes, and if you were to ask ask what it means to me, I can only say this – now, after nearly 40 years of living, I can finally say it has deep significance. Sad isn’t it..taht it took me so long. Frankly, all those years growing up it never really meant much more than a public holiday where I sleep in, and later watch our Assuntarian school band on tv. Then as I had kids, it was something I still prefer to watch on tv until some years ago when hubby dearest decided it could be fun to go watch the fireworks and later the merdeka parade. Recently since the parade moved to a much expansive area like Putrajaya and having one of my best friends as part of a contingent, we braved rain or shine and joined in the crowd. And that I must say was the first time it hit me, this thing is BIG. And for the first time ever, I had goosebumps as I sang the national anthem with thousands of other Malaysians.
Then several nights ago, I went to watch the Putra musical. And apparently so did hundreds of young Malaysians. And that was definitely a scene that warms the heart. Although I have heard many of the tales that were weaved into the play that night but somehow, this time the patriotic bug hit me – hard. Seeing dad constantly wipe his tears as he was seated in front of me, I began to wonder if maybe, just maybe, those tears were not just the tears of a man who was sentimental and easily moved, but rather of a man who knew the pain, and recognized the pride.
I too was choked up with emotion, and so was hubby dearest. The scenes, they touched me somehow and the passion that was reverberating throughout then entire Panggung Sari was powerful beyond belief. I truly walked out of there with a whole new perspective, and a renewed sense of admiration, respect and gratitude like never before.
It was not difficult to see why my husband wanted to spend another evening to watch the play with our boys. And so we went again a couple nights ago and had a blast. This time it was the final show and the national sprit was alive and well. The crowd was wonderful and appreciative. And the mood was like no other. The mood was built up throughout the night, the emcee played his part tremendously well and the appreciative crowd sang every single patriotic song with all their hearts.
I suppose we have come a long way, and if Malaysia were a woman, she’d probably one who has seen much laughter and tears, pride and heartache. She must be proud of her children but at the same time worried about their future and at times uncertain of their sense of independence. Her smile may hide many years of hurt and disappointments and her mind may wonder where she had gone wrong with some of her younger ones.
Nonetheless, she must be one tough cookie..and raring to shoulder on, come what may.
Selamat Hari Merdeka…
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