Of meet and greet...

The morning was still blanketed in bluish dark skies as we made our way out to school and work. As he waited fidgetyly for his school bus, I waited with him. There he was, the other boy, the shy neighbour from the opposite apartment, in the same school uniform waiting for the same school bus. He is a foreigner, judging from his accent. Initially I thought he was Filipino because of his Catholic-inspired name, but now, I think he may be Indonesian. His companion who could possibly be his maid, aunty, sister or mom, was not friendly. I did talk to her on the very first day of Afzal's taking the bus there, to ask about the school bus. But after that first day, it was my maid who would send Afzal every morning so I haven't seen them.

Yesterday and today, I was there, waiting together with them but she did not turn her head to me or say good morning or even a simple hi or hello. If only she had looked my way, I would gladly holler a good morning but she didn't. So I didn't greet her either. She left hurriedly after the boy went up the bus without even a wave, or a smile, or a greet...oh well.

Slowly, I walked to the bus stop. It was barely 200 metres away, and as I strolled to the main street, the bus that I was to take had passed the bus stop. It was only 7 am anyway. The neighbourhood had a very kampung-like atmosphere especially when I see a white cock with a very red comb having its morning pecks among the grasses but the traffic on the main street was proof of bustling activity. Despite the fact that it was not a major road, it had the busy-ness of the morning rush hour. Everyone is either to work or school, and for the cock - to scratch a worm or two for its breakfast.

Fifteen minutes later, the next bus came - rather late, I thought for a morning rush hour schedule. My bus card beeped as I placed it near the reader, and more beeps came after me. Ten minutes later, I alighted near the mrt station, and as I passed the wet market, I bought two carrots and a 'stalk' of broccoli. The genial apek said in clear structured tones, "it's one dollar and ninety cents." I passed the apek a two dollar note, and he smiled, thanking me while taking a change of ten cents to return to me. It was a pleasant marketing experience. All of these vegetables in a red plastic bag, I tucked them in my Atienne Aigner beaten bag and what a bulge it made, and off to the train station I went.

Vegetables in my designer bag and a free blue kfc pouch in one hand that contained my solat items, I was on my way to work. I was lucky to get a seat only after two stations away, but when a little baby arrived on her mummy's chest looking at me adorably, I had to get up and offered her mummy the seat. She was so adorably cute, and she wanted to hold my finger, but at the same time wary of me. They only sat for a couple of stations before the mum got up to leave. But before that, little baby girl waved good bye and blew french kisses at me. And for someone who is only one year old, her social skill is endearing and even her fine motor skill is rather superb as she was tossing and turning the morning newspaper.

At about 8.11 am, I reached my destination. And I smsed hubby to let him know I was already at the station. Hubby was working the night shift which is very near the mrt, so he picked me up at the station and sent me to my workplace before he drove home. Isn't he a sweetheart for that?

As I was passing the bus interchange's canteen, it was bustling with makciks selling breakfast of nasi lemak, mee goreng and epok-epok. So I bought some for me, but not for hubby today as he would have home-made breakfast later at home.

Before I alighted from the car, I put the carrot and broccoli at the backseat so hubby can bring it home for the maid to put it in the soup that I made last night. My vegetables would have gone cross-country before it landed into the pot.

And as I staggered to the office, I met this fatherly professor, whom we occasionally bumped into each other along the corridor and would greet each other with our hi's and goodbyes, and little small talks. We had a small talk yesterday and he continued it to this morning on the subject of where do you live, and how do you come to work. So he had to ask this morning, "did your husband send you this morning?"

"Oh yes..."

"Ah...you are good!" With a bit of a cheeky tone, "or maybe he is good..."

I smiled while churning out a naughty cheeky reply. "Oh well, I have him wrap around my fingers..." His wrinkled eyes with silver-coloured brow lighted up, he smiled and waved me off.

Except for the unfriendly neighbour, I had a good morning, with some friendly banter with strangers and the occasional acquantainces. I mean, how can anyone go wrong with a good morning, or a hello, a sleepy smile or blowing french kisses or husbandly pecks. It takes as simple as these to make anyone's day, right?

For being pandai dan memandai-mandai...

At some point in our lives, we are clever and also trying to be clever, and so me thinks.

My comments on Anugerah finalists is the case of me of trying to be clever, since I was the self-declared uninvited unofficial judge. But perhaps I'm already clever enough to be judge, since I was a judge before in Juara, on-air no less, as well as countless number of auditions before the actual Anugerahs.

Back to my real life, 'oleh kerana pandai dan memandai-mandai', I am now feeling swarmed with work.

When I was in broadcasting, the workload is crazy - long hours, extreme fatigue, super busy and I will be too occupied with work to even bother about the world of blogging. Now, I'm in administrative work, so well I have time, lots, that I could well - blog.

But I need to keep my cerebral stretched, and so the 'pandai and memandai-mandai' me actually volunteered for extra work and requested for more work. And now because of that, I have three extra workload at work, and that I have a few others outside of work.

Well, I just wondered what did I get myself into. I should relish and cherish this 'time' I have on my hand. But no, I got myself busy ...

Hope this is all worth it...

Let me be the unofficial judge...

...of the singing contest Anugerah on Suria.

I have not followed it closely so basically my comments will not weigh its weight in gold, but for the sake of viewer power, I shall say my piece.

When I saw the four finalists, I actually wondered, how did they end up being there? Far from being cynical, I am purely basing it from a commercial value viewpoint. And I would dare say three out of four of them have almost to none. The one that strikes me most as having commercial value is definitely Aliff. He has that cute boyish looks that go down very well with screaming, virginal teens as well as over-zealous makciks. From a social, political and economic viewpoint, there are no winning choices except for Aliff. Here's my take on why Aliff had to win. And he did.

It's been a very long time since a big music label like Sony BMG decides to put its dollar on a Malay singing sensation that hails from Singapore. And for this collaboration between Sony BMG and Suria to work in terms of dollars and common sense, plus perhaps putting Singapore Malay music back onto the map, and raising the value (maybe standards) of the Malay music industry, Aliff has to be the winner. You need to make some dough first for music labels to believe that investing in a Singaporean Malay singer will reap benefits. They just perhaps realised this with Taufik Batisah and Hady Mirza, I suppose. This will only mean repeat future investments, instead of dying off like it did. It's also a way of saying to the Malaysians (and Indonesians), "Look here, we do have talent too!" and socially, this will rub off to the other talents in this industry and will make the struggling local singers feel that their recognition and worth are long overdue.

For all its worth, Aliff was not a disappointment. Despite his rather raw and breathless singing, he had good control of his voice. It was not pitchy and did not fall flat as much as the others. On the other hand, he really rocked it with his own rendition of that Indon song with Addy Cradle. He commanded the stage like it was his. He was entertaining, and it looked like he loved to please and entertain. He immersed himself and enjoyed himself and his personality showed through. In comparison to Maiya, whom I would credit as having the most powerful vocals, Aliff still win hands down for being the moderately good singer with excellent stage presence, good boyish looks, charisma and overall commercial package.

Now, the things that are left to be seen is for him to find a niche in his music. And somehow the rock in him fits nicely with his boyishness, and romantic ballads also go well with his breathless whispery voice. That, to me, seem to be his winning formula. It is left to be seen whether he will remain humble and pleasing, as his confidence over Judge Shafinaz's superb comments have raised his head a little higher, based on the body language that he displayed on the show and during his encore singing. So I hope he'll know what to do to remain likeable in this rather volatile industry.

Back to the three other finalists.

Maiya had the best vocals to boot, but she was lost. Lost in the sense like what Judge Gani said, her performance did not match her powerful vocals. I'm sure she can do more. And if she had done a lot more by commanding her moves, her facial expressions, body language and conquering the stage, she has got it all BUT she is still not the winner for me. She is an 'old' singer, 'old' not in the sense of age, but in her overall presence. I mean she aint the young pretty lass that is very necessary for this rather cruel music industry. Of course talent will get you far, but talent and looks plus something else will get you even farther. I would think that Maiya could and should emulate someone like Melly Goeslaw - the Indonesian singer that made her mark most for being a superb composer of other acclaimed singers. Maiya has got what it takes, if she is willing to work hard at learning to play the piano, reading notes, composing and rearranging, to be a great music composer and producer, I believed.

Roslan, he is just like Hyrul or Hazami, don't you think? Minus the vocals for Hazami that is. When Judge Eddie said that he did the Imran Ajmain's song justice, I beg to differ. Perhaps Eddie was just being nice, and far from being disappointed with Roslan's rendition, he was pleased. But, without trying to sound apologetic, I'm sure Imran who was one of the invited guests would be shock to hear that. I did. Roslan was lost too, and since his vocals were not as superb as Maiya, he was doubly lost. He did not grab my attention, and I am not sure whether he was not interested or that it was purely nerves. He is a ballad and soul guy but when he deliver ballads with the 1)first song which is very unfamiliar and alien even to Judge Rahimah Rahim and 2) other songs that sounded very lacklustre and void of feelings and emotions, it just didn't do. His voice is relatively acceptable, but he needed to put more oomphh and panache to make it. Anyway, with the help of Mayuni Omar from Soundlink, I'm sure he will do well with such ballads in the compilation album. I mean, please kick some edge into your singing!

Nurrun, how is it that she looked almost like Maiya with round face and short hair? The difference, her voice is super raspy and she is super short. Cute and small were rather the cute terms to use from Judge Shafinaz. She worked hard and clearly was not going to let her dismal support from viewers demoralised her spirits. She is edgy and that is what I like about her but unless she can be someone like Hi Hi Bye Bye Ezleen, or Rama-Rama Ella, then it will be difficult for her to move in this industry. She needs something else, and that something else, whether it is x-factor or whatever it is, is the missing ingredient. But she's cool.

Now, for something a bit frivolous... what do you notice about Clay Aiken and Elliot Yamin of American Idol?

Well.........................They had a dental makeover.

So to Aliff and Nurrun...when you're singing, the mouth is the part that people will see most, and that's the part that has to be attractive most. I hope you understand what I mean, you just have to try and have it all. It's a frivolous shallow thing but just look at Hady Mirza after winning Singapore Idol, and all other Idol winners and finalists whether from US or Singapore. Hady's bod is more lean, and his face more angled. I don't mean that he went for cosmetic surgery but I'm sure he hit the gym more after winning the title.

Well, who says winning (or being a top notch celebrity) is easy?

The state of being stateless

Just yesterday, I read in the papers about two young sisters, aged 6 and 2.5 years old, who are considered stateless because they do not have birth certificates, meaning their parents have not registered their births. In other words, they are considered illegal or perhaps non-existence in the eyes of the law.
But these girls are very much alive and living an almost normal childhood with their maternal grandmother. Though showered with much love from grandma, these kids however do not get proper immunization and now, cannot go to school because of their lack of documents.

The grassroots leaders who were tracking kids that are supposed to attend preschools but are not, found these kids. And together with their MP were shocked to hear that such cases still exist today in affluent Singapore. Now, they are trying their best to get these kids in school and proper documentation. The problems are, they do not know the identity of the first child’s father. They knew of the second child’s father, however, the jailed mother because of subutex abused is married to a third husband, who is around but does not have biological rights over these kids.

Now I am thinking aloud, not to offend any parties, but just thinking aloud, as loud as Flying Dutchman and Glen Ong always do during their morning express shows.

When these girls went to the polyclinics with their grandma or mother for immunization, and couldn’t produce their birth certificates, why didn’t the staff there suspect something? Even if they feel they couldn’t barge into domestic affairs, but considering that this non-BC issue can lead to serious implications for the future of the children, why didn’t anyone sound the alarm in their earlier years?

Once, I came across a stateless adult. I was told that he was stateless, not that I know he was or wasn’t. His parents that adopted him were both dead, and he was then fending for himself. As he did not have any form of identification, he was not able to get decent work except working at a charitable organization doing some cleaning and housekeeping work, enough to get by for food and rent of a one room flat. He was a young man, he looked decent and of a marriageable age. But I wondered, what happened if he falls really sick, or that he intends to get married? What happens just because he did not have a BC or IC?

It’s so unthinkable to think that despite being real in the flesh, in the eyes of the law, he did not exist. I think what the authorities want is to safeguard against abuses whereby immigrants, illegal or not, can use such an instances to gain residency status in the country.

But then, these young children should not be punished for the crimes of their parents, even if the real father of the first daughter be found not to be Singaporean. I mean what harm does it do to give the child the right of identity?

I wish them well, and wish that they grow up to be good citizens of the world.

Our happening 070707?

070799, that was the date, according to hubby, that we went to ROMM to register for our nikah. I didn’t quite remember the date but I definitely remember all the details of that day, the day that seal our fate together.

Our nikah was slated for 061199 and the sanding 071199. And if 7 is the ‘lucky’ number for us, our engagement so happened was 070299.

What did we do on 070707?

We cleaned and scrubbed the new house that we will be moving into this weekend. Cleaned, scrubbed and sneezed for me.

The week earlier, the hubby and the maid had the kitchen sertu-ed, while I was at work. That day 070707, we thoroughly cleaned the whole house, with floor cleaners, and all sorts of disinfectant plus Walch (had told hubby to buy Dettol but he bought Walch instead) – floors, toilets, windows, doors etc.

Hubby volunteered to pick up son from madrasah and sent him to swimming class. This was usually my routine but he volunteered because he wanted to escape more cleaning work. Yes, escape because he gave me that look, the look that says it all. You know, men and cleaning. So I was with the maid, cleaning whatever corners I can see. There will be a bit more cleaning to do before we move in, the little crevices here and there, and then hopefully the mover will take care of the big items. This is the first time we engaged a mover to move things from the house, because we have troubled our siblings enough with our previous moves. And because, moving is a labourous job that should be the work of our menfolk, but then again these days, it seemed, the menfolk are not ‘labourous’ type. Really. I know hubby will complain of backache, and all sorts of aches after that.

I had prepare mee soto in the morning. So we had lunch of mee soto in the house in between our rest breaks. While waiting for hubby to come back with the boy, I had my shower. It was already late in the afternoon so we went home, had our second round of mee soto for dinner before we hit the sack. Just too exhausted to think. The next day, it was packing and de-cluttering day in the current house. De-clutter, pack and sneeze….

Yes, that’s me because I’m so allergic to dust. I’ve been called Rudolph for my red nose, whenever the sneeze bug hit me. It’s terrible. Only those who suffered the same ailment as me will know.

It’s gets crazy when you have so many things that you haven’t seen in a while because they were either stashed or stacked somewhere in the storeroom. Now you wonder whether you really need them. Because if you do, you need space to keep them as space is a definite constraint in the new smaller apartment, but if you don’t, it’s definitely good-riddance. Getting rid of something is never easy, but I learned from a tv show ‘Clean House’ while in Alabama, that it can be very therapeutic. I am trying to instill a mindset in me of what I haven’t missed, are surely things I have not needed, and don’t need at all. It’s like getting rid of that irritating old boyfriend (or girlfriend) – good riddance to bad garbage!

It’s good therapy to get rid of junk but it’s overwhelming to pack and unpack…and we will probably do this again in a year’s time… oh well…it’s the life of a nomad? Yes? No?

Sabun Sertu

It came on the market at an opportune time – a time that I am shifting house, thereby the need to sertu the new house came into the picture once again. The whole process of sertu requires us to get the tanah liat (red earth/soil), the washing of six parts air mutlak (pure water) and one part air mutlak with the red earth. After consulting with an online ustaz, he feels that it is ok just to wash normally without sertu-ing especially if we have not seen or do not know whether there was ever pig (pork) or dog in the house, but think there might. But being culturally Malay-Muslim, and the fact that sertu is not wrong, and since there is this new product of sabun sertu, Alhamdullillah, perhaps it was Allah’s way of answering my prayers and the many queries in my muddled head.

After reading the newspaper article about the sabun sertu, we headed down to the shop. It was a small shop beside the haig road hawker centre cum market. It was only here that the sabun sertu, coceptualised and created by an ustaz Abdul Rahman, lined the white shelves of that small shop, a size of a store-room. Alhamdullillah, to this ustaz, and may Allah reward him for this. The online ustaz gave him thumbs up for what he called “an ingenious idea that helps us to contemporarise our Islamic practices.”

Someone was buying the stuffs before us – a bottle of sabun sertu for the body, and another bottle of sabun sertu for cutleries and house cleaning. The pakcik at the shop acknowledged our presence and asked whether he could help us.

“Nak tengok tu.” I said, looking at the two bottles being bought by the earlier customer.

“Boleh…tengoklah”. (Of course, go ahead)

I took a bottle from its white shelves. It was orangey-muddy in colour, and the ingredients do not look much, but had some similar scientific names of which you would see behind your shower wash or shampoo. There was also a “how to do it” section but it mentioned only 5 washes after that. That put me in disequilibrium. Why 5 washes?

“Kenapa 5 pakcik?” the confused, naived and ignorant me asked. As far as I have always understood, it’s 6.

“Yang pertama, awak cuci dulu dengan air. Lepas tu, yang kedua awak campur dengan benda ni. Kemudian, lima kali cuci.” (First, you wash with water. Then you add this to your second wash. Then, after that, the rest of the 5 washes.)

Ahhhh… that explains it. So clearly and simply. But I wish that the explanation on the bottle was clearer so that it did not cause such a misconception on the already ignorant me, especially if one was to buy from a grocery store without a knowledgeable salesperson at hand.

“Kena pakai banyak tak?” (Do I need to use a lot?)

“Takde…awak campur sikit dengan air, macam pakai sabun.” (No…just add a little bit to water, like you would normally use soap (liquid))

“Ada buihlah?” (There’s suds?)

“Ah…ada” (Ah…yes)

I opened the bottle to smell it. Not bad, I thought. No funny muddy smell - just like your normal shower wash.

We bought a bottle. And now it’s waiting time to be used.