Friday, 26 April 2013
Monday, 22 April 2013
Friday, 19 April 2013
Saturday, 13 April 2013
From a health pharmacy's sharing at 23 March 2013:
KISAH BUDAK PENJUAL KUIH (Terharu punye kalau bace!)
Selepas seminggu beraya di kampung, saya pulang ke Kuala Lumpur. Memikirkan highway PLUS sibuk, saya menyusuri laluan lama. Pekan pertama yang saya lintas ialah Teluk Intan. Terasa mengantuk, saya singgah sebentar di sebuah restoran di pinggir pekan itu. Sebaik memesan makanan, seorang kanak-kanak lelaki berusia lebih kurang 12 tahun muncul dihadapan.
"Abang nak beli kuih?" katanya sambil tersenyum. Tangannya segera menyelak daun pisang yang menjadi penutup bakul kuih jajaanya.
“Tak apalah dik... Abang dah pesan makanan," jawap saya ringkas.
Dia berlalu. Sebaik pesanan tiba, saya terus menikmatinya. Lebih kurang 20 minit kemudian saya nampak kanak-kanak tadi menghampiri pelanggan lain, sepasang suami isteri agaknya. Mereka juga menolak, dia berlalu begitu saja.
"Abang dah makan, tak nak beli kuih saya?" katanya selamba semasa menghampiri meja saya.
"Abang baru lepas makan dik. Masih kenyang lagi ni," kata saya sambil menepuk-nepuk perut.
Dia beredar, tapi cuma setakat di kaki lima. Sampai di situ, di meletakkan bakulnya yang masih sarat. Setiap yang lalu ditanya, "Tak nak beli kuih saya bang, pak cik, kakak atau makcik?"
Molek budi bahasanya! Mamak restoran itu pun tidak menghalang dia keluar masuk ke premisnya bertemu pelanggan. Sambil memerhati, terselit rasa kagum dan kasihan di hati saya melihatkan betapa gigihnya dia berusaha. Tidak nampak langsung tanda-tanda putus asa dalam dirinya, sekalipun orang yang ditemuinya enggan membeli kuihnya.
Selepas membayar harga makanan dan minuman, saya terus beredar ke kereta. Kanak-kanak itu saya lihat berada agak jauh di deretan kedai yang sama. Saya buka pintu, membetulkan duduk dan menutup pintu. Belum sempat saya menghidupkan enjin, kanak-kanak tadi berdiri di tepi kereta. Dia menghadiahkan sebuah senyuman. Saya turunkan cermin, membalas senyumannya.
"Abang dah kenyang, tapi mungkin abang perlukan kuih saya untuk adik-adik abang, ibu atau ayah abang." katanya petah sekali sambil tersenyum. Sekali lagi dia mempamerkan kuih dalam bakul dengan menyelak daun pisang penutupnya.
Saya tenung wajahnya, bersih dan bersahaja. Terpantul perasaan kesian di hati. Lantas saya buka dompet, dan menghulurkan sekeping not merah RM10. Saya hulurkan padanya.
"Ambil ni dik! Abang sedekah. Tak payah abang beli kuih tu," Saya berkata ikhlas kerana perasaan kasihan meningkat mendadak. Kanak-kanak itu menerima wang tersebut, lantas mengucapkan terima kasih terus berjalan kembali ke kaki lima deretan kedai. Saya gembira dapat membantunya. Setelah enjin kereta saya hidupkan, saya mengundur. Alangkah terperanjatnya saya melihat kanak-kanak itu menghulurkan pula RM10 pemberian saya itu kepada seorang pengemis yang buta kedua-dua matanya.
Saya terkejut, lantas memberhentikan semula kereta, memanggil kanak-kanak itu.
"Kenapa bang nak beli kuih ke?" tanyanya.
"Kenapa adik berikan duit abang tadi pada pengemis tu? Duit tu abang bagi adik!" Kata saya tanpa menjawap pertanyaannya.
"Bang saya tak boleh ambil duit tu. Mak marah kalau dia dapat tahu saya mengemis. Kata mak kita mesti bekerja mencari nafkah kerana Allah berikan tulang empat kerat pada saya. Kalau dia tahu saya bawa duit sebanyak itu pulang, sedangkan jualan masih banyak, mak pasti marah. Kata mak, mengemis kerja orang yang tak berupaya, saya masih kuat bang!" katanya begitu lancar.
Saya sebak, sekaligus kagum dengan pegangan hidup kanak-kanak itu. Tanpa banyak soal saya terus bertanya berapa semua harga kuih dalam bakul itu.
"Abang nak beli semua ke?" Dia betanya dan saya cuma mengangguk. Lidah saya kelu nak berkata.
"RM25 saja bang."
Selepas dia memasukkan satu persatu kuihnya kedalam plastik, saya hulurkan RM25. Dia mengucapkan terima kasih dan terus berlalu.
Saya perhatikan dia sehingga hilang daripada pandangan. Dalam perjalanan ke Kuala Lumpur, baru saya terfikir untuk bertanya statusnya. Anak yatimkah? Siapakah wanita berhati mulia yang melahirknya? Terus terang saya katakan, saya beli kuihnya bukan lagi atas dasar kasihan, tetapi kerana rasa kagum dengan sikapnya yang dapat menjadikan kerjayanya satu penghormatan.
Sesungguhnya saya kagum dengan sikap kanak-kanak itu. Dia menyedarkan saya, siapa kita sebenarnya!
"Maka yang mana satu di antara nikmat-nikmat Tuhan kamu, yang kamu hendak dustakan? " ar-rahman
From Eric Chong's Facebook timeline, posted on 4th November 2012:
"This Malay girl really caught my attention!
I was invited to give a talk at SMK Chio Min, Kulim, a few days ago. As usual, lots of students approached me for autographs and photo sessions after the talk. :)
I saw a cute and bubbly Malay girl in a tudong yelling excitedly to her Chinese friends in fluent Chinese, “快！快！我们一起来和 Mr Eric Chong 拍张照！” (Quick! Quick! Let's take a picture with Mr Eric Chong!)
I was most impressed! It wasn't because she was a pretty girl, but the fact that she was a non-Chinese student and she could speak perfect Chinese. In fact, I later learned that many non-Chinese students in SMK Chio Min are very conversant in Mandarin.
"What's the big deal?" You may ask.
This, of course, isn't a big deal. A Malay being able to speak Chinese is no big deal.
However, what I'm trying to explain is this - if you are able to speak a language other than your mother tongue, you will gain instant respect and attention from those who speak the language. Following this visibility, opportunity may come your way.
I hope this girl will serve as the cultural bridge between the Malays and the Chinese in her community. When there is more understanding between the two races, there will be more compassion, tolerance, and even appreciation.
I left SMK Chio Min with a contented heart, knowing that there is a good chance for the next generation of Malaysians to live harmoniously and proudly in a multiracial and multicultural society.
Thursday, 11 April 2013
I need to be alone,
I can hear my heartbeat.
Note- 峰雨 / "Mountain-peak rain" is not a poet name, but just an additional word to describe the current weather at the time I wrote this poem
Tuesday, 9 April 2013
Monday, 8 April 2013
By NITHYA SIDHHU
Good and bad people exist in all segments of society regardless of race or religion.
MY MOTHER always said that one should never judge a person by his or her ethnicity and faith.
“Don’t equate a person’s race with the type of person he is,’’ she would advise us especially her daughters.
“Be wary of strange men and they include even men of our own race, because they may have bad intentions,” she would remind us.
I was born and raised among Malays. Ours was the only Punjabi household in the police barracks that housed about 20 houses. My father was a policeman and we lived in the area for 13 years.
My favourite person in the area was the makcik (aunty) in the fifth house whom I could relate to easily. Everyone in the neighbourhood called her “Captain” because she led the police wives’ club.
Belying the ‘indolence’ conferred on her race, she was an industrious woman. She sold local teatime kuih and she made them fresh every afternoon.
I helped her willingly. In return, she would give a few pieces of kuih ketayap for me to eat. With her gold tooth flashing, she would also regale stories of her life under the Japanese era and sing Japanese songs to me.
I didn’t like the makcik in the seventh house because she wasn’t a nice person at all. She passed disparaging remarks about me, and, out of jealousy, would say hurtful things about our family.
We did better than her children at school and I think this irked her. I avoided her.
The makcik at the end of the block was very amiable and loved Hindi movies. We had no television at home, so I appreciated the makcik allowing me into her house to watch TV.
However, her eldest daughter made it very clear that my presence was unwelcome.
The minute her mother went to the kitchen, she would suddenly find an urgent need to sweep the house! Sweeping around me, she would demand that I “move here” or “move there” while making sure the broom swept my body too!
I always used to wonder how a lovely person like her mother had such a horrible child! Needless to say, I disliked her daughter.
When my father retired from the police force, we moved into a Chinese neighbourhood in Ipoh where I picked up Cantonese.
It was here that I made friends with a wonderful girl whom I shall refer to as L.K.F. Her parents were not fond of me and had often remarked that she should find friends of her “own kind”.
L.K.F. lived in a huge, double-storeyed house but I was often out of place and uncomfortable especially when her businessman father was in the house.
However, that didn’t stop L.K.F. from being friends with me, or for that matter, deter me from cycling over to her house to deliver her copies of the English essays she had asked me to correct. Being good friends, she would often asked me to forgive her parents for their narrow-mindedness, saying that one day they would see what a true friend I was.
In contrast, I loved visiting Mei’s house because her mother was a gem of a person. The moment I entered her house, she would instantly make me a hot drink and serve my all-time favourite — peanut biscuits. We could hardly communicate for she only knew a smattering of Bahasa Malaysia, but she exuded warmth and tenderness that I always felt at home there.
Mei also had a grandmother who lived with her family. The old lady could barely see but she would hold my palm in hers and smile warmly. I can still remember the jade bangle she wore on her tiny wrist. Still, I was somewhat envious of Mei for she was able to bond with her grandmother — an opportunity that I did not have with both my paternal and maternal grandmothers as they had passed on. Mei’s interaction with the old lady only reinforced the fact that filial piety was very much observed in her family.
When I went to University, many Indians streamed into my life. I met some wonderful Indians. One was Gurmeet kaur, a good-natured girl who happened to be of my own race. She was also my roommate.
There were many others who made an impact on me for their kindness, and others who could have done better with some lessons on tolerance and understanding.
Many Malaysians have used their ethnicity as an issue to create fences, walls and barriers.
I worked as a teacher for many years and I must say that the worst type of teachers and administrators are those who use race and religion to colour their perceptions and make decisions about others. Such people incite hatred and cause conflict.
When teachers and principals live by a code of fairness to all and are humane, they are respected especially by their students.
When racial slurs and remarks are made, I am constantly reminded by my mother’s words about appreciating the goodness in people. They may be of a different race or faith, but they should be kind, tolerant and fair in all that they do.
Let me relate the thoughtfulness and love that my Malay friend Sham showered me while we were still at varsity.
Once when I was down with fever and curled up on my bed, she came by to see if I was well enough to attend lectures. Being away from home, I was so thankful that she came by to see me.
There was another instance when I sat on Sham’s bed waiting for her just before an exam, while she was on the floor, all garbed in white saying her prayers.
When she was done, she said that she had prayed for me too. At that moment, I felt blessed for having such a wonderful friend.
In fact, there were many times later that we often prayed for each other’s success.
Like me, I am sure many of you must have friends from different ethnic backgrounds who have touched your lives in different ways. Be thankful for these blessings. Selamat Hari Merdeka to all.
Article from The Star newspaper
Sunday, 7 April 2013
Indahnya laungan Azan
yang memecahkan kesunyian malam,
yang memecahkan kesunyian hati,
Memberi harapan kepada yang memerlukan.
Ayuh, mulakan hari kita
dengan memuji Allah S.W.T,
yang mencipta kita sekalian.
Jom solat Subuh!
At a mosque's class,
I glance at my left,
and saw a smile.
The smile of
In the husband's sight,
his wife is the most beautiful woman in the world.
Because, there's more blessings in gazing at her,
and more sins in gazing at other women.
The choice is clear-cut. :)
When the soul is left alone...
...without any further desire for worldly things
...that's where he finds comfort in Qur'an recitations
...no matter how pleasant worldly songs can be
...the soul by nature is only pleased with Allah's words