When I came back from my Hari Raya Hols, I was looking forward to writing a really long blog about all the stuff I did and places I went to with Nuaim. Unfortunately, due to my Lead Engineer's weird and self-torturing schedule, I found myself literally huffing and puffing through specifications, reports, design philosophies and a whirlwind site visit. LE's also complaining that he cannot get the manpower he was promised (we're supposed to have 5 but right now only 3 in our team) for the project. Itu la, dulu elok-elok ada sorang seed engineer, hang pi demob dia. Bila bos suruh ambik balik kata tak nak sebab budak tu kononnya tak pandai lagi nak buat kerja-kerja ni. Yang pandai-pandai semua dok sibuk dengan projek lain. La ni budak tu pun dah buat kerja lain dah, nak tarik balik pun dah susah.
My boss, in the mean time, is off in Manila, presumably headhunting for an engineer to replace the guy in Bintulu who's supposed to be the fifth element in our project team. Lucky him, timing his trip just in time for the Manila SEA games. I just hope there's some project trip to Germany or thereabouts in June 2006 that I can join. Maybe for the HIMA Safeguarding System?
Have to sign off now. Everyone's left the office already. Ciao!
Tuesday, 29 November 2005
Thursday, 17 November 2005
Mummy's Birthday Boi
Nuaim and I share the same birthday. Does this sound like us?
Courtesy of www.blogthings.com
Courtesy of www.blogthings.com
| Your Birthdate: May 31 |
 Your strength: Your dependability Your weakness: You hate being alone Your power color: Midnight blue Your power symbol: Shell Your power month: April |
Power symbol: Shell.
I knew it - I'm working with the wrong Oil & Gas company. But loyal me isn't leaving, or am I? Jeng jeng jeng...
Monday, 31 October 2005
Selamat Hari Raya
As this is my third post today, I'll keep it short.
Today is my last day at the office before I break off for the holidays, which also means I won't be able to get on the Internet again till 14th Nov (unless my sisters decide to take a break from hogging the PC at home). It also means the next time I come back to the office, I can have my sweets and cookies and Hot Milo (with a hint of Nescafe) to keep me awake!
So I would like to take this opportunity to wish everyone Selamat Hari Raya, Eid Mubarak. Let us all forgive each other and ourselves, and beg forgiveness from Him for all our trespassings and wrongdoings, and come back in better shape of body and mind.
Hari Raya is meant to be the day to celebrate our 'victories' during the fast against our base nature and lusts, although I have to admit to not being all that victorious this year. May we all have the opportunity to greet Ramadhan again next year, InsyaAllah.
Today is my last day at the office before I break off for the holidays, which also means I won't be able to get on the Internet again till 14th Nov (unless my sisters decide to take a break from hogging the PC at home). It also means the next time I come back to the office, I can have my sweets and cookies and Hot Milo (with a hint of Nescafe) to keep me awake!
So I would like to take this opportunity to wish everyone Selamat Hari Raya, Eid Mubarak. Let us all forgive each other and ourselves, and beg forgiveness from Him for all our trespassings and wrongdoings, and come back in better shape of body and mind.
Hari Raya is meant to be the day to celebrate our 'victories' during the fast against our base nature and lusts, although I have to admit to not being all that victorious this year. May we all have the opportunity to greet Ramadhan again next year, InsyaAllah.
Tok Bik
Tok Bik lived in a big house in Subang Jaya with her son and daughter. Every so often, she would get visits from her other children and their brood. Sometimes they would stay over the weekend, so the house would be filled with the sounds of laughter and conversation.
Tok Bik had eight children from two husbands. She was divorced from her first husband after having two children, and became another man’s second wife. Tok Bik took the boy to stay with her, while the daughter was cared for by the father’s family. Tok Bik never met her daughter until after the girl was married at the age of 21.
As they say, history repeats itself. Tok Bik’s eldest son also married twice. His first wife was pregnant with his firstborn, a boy, when he left her for another woman. His second wife bore him four daughters, the eldest nine months younger than her brother. The boy and his father would not meet until 30 years later.
Tok Bik was only recently united with her grandson, but she welcomed him with open arms. She had always known about him, and had been asking her son to seek him out, but the timing was never right. It was not until he was about to leave for Haj earlier this year that he drew up enough courage to set up a meeting.
Last Saturday on the 25th of Ramadhan, around the time for Asar prayers, Tok Bik complained of a headache. She went upstairs to shower and lie down. Before doing so, Tok Bik asked her maid to take out the long kain batik lepas from the cupboard and place it nearby her bed so that 'nanti senang orang nak cari (it’ll be easier for people to find later).'
Tok Bik would usually come down to prepare for iftar at 6.00 p.m. When she didn’t make an appearance, her maid went to her room to wake her up. She saw Tok Bik sleeping in bed, but something looked amiss. Upon closer inspection she started screaming, which drew the attention of Tok Bik’s daughter.
When the doctor arrived, he confirmed what they had all suspected. Tok Bik had passed away in her sleep.
I heard the news just before breaking fast. It was a shock because Tok Bik seemed very healthy when I last met her just over a week ago. As my brother-in-law was having iftar with us that evening, we decided to go visit after Maghrib prayers. We reached Subang Jaya at about 8.30 p.m.
When I entered the room, there were several relatives sitting around reciting the Yasin. Some of them had tears in their eyes. Tok Bik was laid out on the bed, her face covered with gauze. When the gauze was lifted for me to look at her face, I could see she had passed away peacefully.
Tok Bik looked so serene, almost like she was sleeping. Her skin seemed so clear like a teenager’s. The apple of her cheeks even had a healthy shine to it. I was amazed that death could look so beautiful.
I settled down in a corner of the room to read the Yasin. Suddenly I heard someone crying loudly at the door. One of Tok Bik’s daughters had just arrived, clearly distraught. She was at KLIA, about to board a flight to Sarawak with her family when she found out what had happened. Her brothers and sisters quickly crowded around her and tried to put her back on her feet. I felt a bit confused, not knowing how to react to the situation, so I just dumbly sat back down and tried to read. Although I was feeling somewhat emotionally detached from it all earlier, I tend to get really affected when I see other people crying. I tried really hard not to let the tears flow. I succeeded, but got a headache due to the terrible effort.
Just as I was wrapping up my recitation, the men decided to move Tok Bik’s body downstairs. She was covered up in the kain batik lepas, her son holding up her head while her grandsons took the weight of her body. Her newly acquainted grandson was one of them, just as he was one of those to help lower her body into the grave the next morning.
It rained at the cemetery. It always does when good people pass away.
Rest in peace, Tok Bik. May Allah count your soul among the blessed.
Tok Bik had eight children from two husbands. She was divorced from her first husband after having two children, and became another man’s second wife. Tok Bik took the boy to stay with her, while the daughter was cared for by the father’s family. Tok Bik never met her daughter until after the girl was married at the age of 21.
As they say, history repeats itself. Tok Bik’s eldest son also married twice. His first wife was pregnant with his firstborn, a boy, when he left her for another woman. His second wife bore him four daughters, the eldest nine months younger than her brother. The boy and his father would not meet until 30 years later.
Tok Bik was only recently united with her grandson, but she welcomed him with open arms. She had always known about him, and had been asking her son to seek him out, but the timing was never right. It was not until he was about to leave for Haj earlier this year that he drew up enough courage to set up a meeting.
Last Saturday on the 25th of Ramadhan, around the time for Asar prayers, Tok Bik complained of a headache. She went upstairs to shower and lie down. Before doing so, Tok Bik asked her maid to take out the long kain batik lepas from the cupboard and place it nearby her bed so that 'nanti senang orang nak cari (it’ll be easier for people to find later).'
Tok Bik would usually come down to prepare for iftar at 6.00 p.m. When she didn’t make an appearance, her maid went to her room to wake her up. She saw Tok Bik sleeping in bed, but something looked amiss. Upon closer inspection she started screaming, which drew the attention of Tok Bik’s daughter.
When the doctor arrived, he confirmed what they had all suspected. Tok Bik had passed away in her sleep.
I heard the news just before breaking fast. It was a shock because Tok Bik seemed very healthy when I last met her just over a week ago. As my brother-in-law was having iftar with us that evening, we decided to go visit after Maghrib prayers. We reached Subang Jaya at about 8.30 p.m.
When I entered the room, there were several relatives sitting around reciting the Yasin. Some of them had tears in their eyes. Tok Bik was laid out on the bed, her face covered with gauze. When the gauze was lifted for me to look at her face, I could see she had passed away peacefully.
Tok Bik looked so serene, almost like she was sleeping. Her skin seemed so clear like a teenager’s. The apple of her cheeks even had a healthy shine to it. I was amazed that death could look so beautiful.
I settled down in a corner of the room to read the Yasin. Suddenly I heard someone crying loudly at the door. One of Tok Bik’s daughters had just arrived, clearly distraught. She was at KLIA, about to board a flight to Sarawak with her family when she found out what had happened. Her brothers and sisters quickly crowded around her and tried to put her back on her feet. I felt a bit confused, not knowing how to react to the situation, so I just dumbly sat back down and tried to read. Although I was feeling somewhat emotionally detached from it all earlier, I tend to get really affected when I see other people crying. I tried really hard not to let the tears flow. I succeeded, but got a headache due to the terrible effort.
Just as I was wrapping up my recitation, the men decided to move Tok Bik’s body downstairs. She was covered up in the kain batik lepas, her son holding up her head while her grandsons took the weight of her body. Her newly acquainted grandson was one of them, just as he was one of those to help lower her body into the grave the next morning.
It rained at the cemetery. It always does when good people pass away.
Rest in peace, Tok Bik. May Allah count your soul among the blessed.
It's a Goat eat goat world
The last few days at work have been quite hectic. The meeting with the compressor manufacturer lasted the whole of Thursday, and I had to get the minutes out by next day noon. I was half an hour late for the meeting - there was a long job queue at the only available printer/photocopier in the office - but since I was designated to take minutes, they all waited for me before they started. The meeting started off on quite a fiery note - one of the managers from the Owner company had a few strong opinions about the subject, which he decided to voice out in terms I thought were stronger than politely necessary, but fortunately enough the little Italian guy doing the presentation was mild-mannered enough to just take it in his stride (someone next to me is drinking coffee right now - the aroma is killing me. Aaarghh!).
I had my buka puasa at Suria KLCC that evening, as I was working late. I had a hankering for mee mamak so I went to the Level 4 Food Court but was quite disappointed with the taste. I suppose for only Rm5.50 I shouldn't be expecting much. The next night, there was a department get-together at Restoran Seri Melayu, courtesy of all the higher-paying colleagues (me not included). The carpark was packed by the time we got there with 10 minutes to spare before Maghrib. There was a large selection of food, but because it was all spread out over various sections of the restaurant - and it's a HUGE restaurant - it kind of spoiled my appetite. Somehow the largely Malaysian/Malay menu of rendang and curries and laksa did not quite tickle my tastebuds. The only thing I really enjoyed was the fresh garden salad and ulam. As a friend once commented on my eating habits, I eat greens like a goat.
Well, that night I must've been a cannibal since I indulged in roast lamb with mint sauce. Yummmy.
I had my buka puasa at Suria KLCC that evening, as I was working late. I had a hankering for mee mamak so I went to the Level 4 Food Court but was quite disappointed with the taste. I suppose for only Rm5.50 I shouldn't be expecting much. The next night, there was a department get-together at Restoran Seri Melayu, courtesy of all the higher-paying colleagues (me not included). The carpark was packed by the time we got there with 10 minutes to spare before Maghrib. There was a large selection of food, but because it was all spread out over various sections of the restaurant - and it's a HUGE restaurant - it kind of spoiled my appetite. Somehow the largely Malaysian/Malay menu of rendang and curries and laksa did not quite tickle my tastebuds. The only thing I really enjoyed was the fresh garden salad and ulam. As a friend once commented on my eating habits, I eat greens like a goat.
Well, that night I must've been a cannibal since I indulged in roast lamb with mint sauce. Yummmy.
Wednesday, 26 October 2005
Grumble grumble
I need a break from work. Maybe it's just not being able to have coffee that's really affecting my productivity, or it's this immediate internet access and hence gateway to Jamie Oliver's website that keeps distracting me from finishing this Instrument Selection Criteria, among other things. Or just that feeling of not really knowing what I'm doing. Whatever it is, I'm reminded of the time in Form Five when I had to walk in a boggy, muddy paya during a Student Leadership Course - the need to finish the journey really quickly but there's so much holding me down. Very high viscosity fluid there, now which flowmeter would be suitable?
Mama is coming down from Alor Setar tomorrow to spend some time with Nuaim. I wish I could stay home and play with him too. Instead I have to attend a meeting with some Italian compressor manufacturer and I don't even have a clue what the meeting is going to be about. The reason I'm roped in is because my Lead Engineer wants me to be on top of things, as his deputy for when he's 'off to the dentist' or some such other excuse for disappearing from work (I think he actually goes off to meet some 'lady friend' his wife doesn't know). I really hate deputising for other people - it's not like I don't have enough to do already. Okay, I admit I'm not all that busy right now, but I definitely do not want to get bogged down by things that are really beyond my understanding.
There goes whatever pahala puasa I've achieved for today. And I was salivating over Jamie Oliver's recipes again.
Mama is coming down from Alor Setar tomorrow to spend some time with Nuaim. I wish I could stay home and play with him too. Instead I have to attend a meeting with some Italian compressor manufacturer and I don't even have a clue what the meeting is going to be about. The reason I'm roped in is because my Lead Engineer wants me to be on top of things, as his deputy for when he's 'off to the dentist' or some such other excuse for disappearing from work (I think he actually goes off to meet some 'lady friend' his wife doesn't know). I really hate deputising for other people - it's not like I don't have enough to do already. Okay, I admit I'm not all that busy right now, but I definitely do not want to get bogged down by things that are really beyond my understanding.
There goes whatever pahala puasa I've achieved for today. And I was salivating over Jamie Oliver's recipes again.
Tuesday, 25 October 2005
Lailatul Qadr khairun min Alfi Shahr
I can barely keep my eyes open. I arrived at the office at 7.40 a.m. today, but spent the first 40 minutes asleep in the Surau. My lead engineer rang me up on my mobile to check where I was just as I was walking back to my desk.
Yesterday's PRA session lasted the whole day, right up to just before iftar. And we were only halfway through. Luckily, the next session is postponed till after raya, and there were even suggestions that it will take place on a weekend, away from office premises. maybe as some kind of team-building session, no?
Last night, being the night of 21 Ramadhan, also signalled the beginning of the quest for Lailatul Qadr, the Night of Power. The Quran states that this night is better than a thousand months, meaning that whosoever performs prayers on this night will be rewarded as if he has performed it for a thousand months. It is not disclosed when exactly is the Night in question, only that it falls on one of the odd-numbered nights of the last ten days of Ramadhan. And as Islam interpretes night as beginning on Maghrib preceding the day, hence last night was the 21st, while today is the 21st day of fasting. Muslims generally are encouraged to spend the nights performing prayers and I'tikaf (seclusion) in mosques.
That, however, is not the reason I am so heavy-lidded this morning. Yes, I did spend my wee hours awake, but not for prayers. Instead, Nuaim decided to make 2.30 a.m. his new playtime. He woke up suddenly, asking for my mum's maid, Cik Dah. Now, whenever Nuaim wants his bottle of milk, he will only request it from her. So when he started going 'Daahh!' I thought that milk was what he wanted. I didn't want to have to wake her up in the middle of the night, so decided to make it myself.
I carried Nuaim to the kitchen and asked him again whether he wanted his 'Nenen', to which he didn't respond. So I thought maybe he just had a nightmare or something. We went back to bed, but again he started asking for Cik Dah. This time I made him his bottle, and he happily drank it all up. When he seemed to have settled down to sleep again, I changed his nappie (it's so difficult to do it when he's up and awake because he doesn't like wearing them), then went to the loo myself.
And what should greet me when I walk out of the bathroom? The sight of Nuaim sitting up in bed, insisting to be let out of the room. I carried him for a bit, sang a lullaby, but he simply refused to be lulled by it. I could see that at least someone was still awake upstairs, so ascended the staircase to where my brother, the Eternal Nocturnal, was playing a video game and my sister was chatting online (they have weird playtimes too, my siblings). Nuaim, wide-eyed by now, seemed interested in the video game for about 10 minutes, then decided to make a foray into my sleeping sister's room, presumably in search of her stuffed koala (the toy, not taxidermy variety) to which he has an attachment. Having found the koala, he seemed pleased, but no sooner than a minute later he was going 'Tuin' (downstairs). I thought I'd cracked it by now - that he wanted his teddy bear to sleep with, but he headed for the front door instead. By this time it was 4.00 a.m. and Cik Dah was in the kitchen to prepare sahur, so thankfully for me she was able to take him off my hands while I tried to catch a few winks.
Hubby was up to do his prayers, but I couldn't stay on my feet anymore. My slumber was quite fitful though, so by the time he woke me up again for sahur an hour later I was really cranky. Nuaim was still at it, insisting on going outside where it was dark and raining, so I let Hubby deal with him instead. Fortunately he must have felt tired himself, because he was quite willing to be put to bed after that.
I just hope there's no repeat performance tonight.
Yesterday's PRA session lasted the whole day, right up to just before iftar. And we were only halfway through. Luckily, the next session is postponed till after raya, and there were even suggestions that it will take place on a weekend, away from office premises. maybe as some kind of team-building session, no?
Last night, being the night of 21 Ramadhan, also signalled the beginning of the quest for Lailatul Qadr, the Night of Power. The Quran states that this night is better than a thousand months, meaning that whosoever performs prayers on this night will be rewarded as if he has performed it for a thousand months. It is not disclosed when exactly is the Night in question, only that it falls on one of the odd-numbered nights of the last ten days of Ramadhan. And as Islam interpretes night as beginning on Maghrib preceding the day, hence last night was the 21st, while today is the 21st day of fasting. Muslims generally are encouraged to spend the nights performing prayers and I'tikaf (seclusion) in mosques.
That, however, is not the reason I am so heavy-lidded this morning. Yes, I did spend my wee hours awake, but not for prayers. Instead, Nuaim decided to make 2.30 a.m. his new playtime. He woke up suddenly, asking for my mum's maid, Cik Dah. Now, whenever Nuaim wants his bottle of milk, he will only request it from her. So when he started going 'Daahh!' I thought that milk was what he wanted. I didn't want to have to wake her up in the middle of the night, so decided to make it myself.
I carried Nuaim to the kitchen and asked him again whether he wanted his 'Nenen', to which he didn't respond. So I thought maybe he just had a nightmare or something. We went back to bed, but again he started asking for Cik Dah. This time I made him his bottle, and he happily drank it all up. When he seemed to have settled down to sleep again, I changed his nappie (it's so difficult to do it when he's up and awake because he doesn't like wearing them), then went to the loo myself.
And what should greet me when I walk out of the bathroom? The sight of Nuaim sitting up in bed, insisting to be let out of the room. I carried him for a bit, sang a lullaby, but he simply refused to be lulled by it. I could see that at least someone was still awake upstairs, so ascended the staircase to where my brother, the Eternal Nocturnal, was playing a video game and my sister was chatting online (they have weird playtimes too, my siblings). Nuaim, wide-eyed by now, seemed interested in the video game for about 10 minutes, then decided to make a foray into my sleeping sister's room, presumably in search of her stuffed koala (the toy, not taxidermy variety) to which he has an attachment. Having found the koala, he seemed pleased, but no sooner than a minute later he was going 'Tuin' (downstairs). I thought I'd cracked it by now - that he wanted his teddy bear to sleep with, but he headed for the front door instead. By this time it was 4.00 a.m. and Cik Dah was in the kitchen to prepare sahur, so thankfully for me she was able to take him off my hands while I tried to catch a few winks.
Hubby was up to do his prayers, but I couldn't stay on my feet anymore. My slumber was quite fitful though, so by the time he woke me up again for sahur an hour later I was really cranky. Nuaim was still at it, insisting on going outside where it was dark and raining, so I let Hubby deal with him instead. Fortunately he must have felt tired himself, because he was quite willing to be put to bed after that.
I just hope there's no repeat performance tonight.
