A Blast on a Birthday

It was supposed to be a quiet birthday celebration together, just the two of us. A whole day enjoying the spring Monday Bank Holiday of 1980; the first time I celebrated the birthday of my husband of a few months. It was a beautiful day but we chose to remain indoors, perhaps a quiet dinner later at Khans of Bayswater or El Efez, our two favourite haunts.

In spite of the hustle bustle outside the window; the whole world walking in droves towards the park, we refused to budge and sat lazily on the sofa watching what must have been a John Wayne movie. And then, it happened. First the programme was interrupted to show developments on the events that had the world glued to the TV for the past few days. It was to be the latest on the siege of the Iranian embassy in Princes Gate, across the park from where we were.

On 30th April 1980, a six-man team of the Democratic Revolutionary Movement for the Liberation of Arabistan (DRMLA), took over the embassy, taking 26 hostages; staff and people who had gone there to get visas to travel. They killed a hostage and threw the body outside the building,

This was my first taste of terrorism, bomb blasts and security alerts; with more to come.

On the screen, several men (SAS) were seen on the balcony of the building and before too long, we heard what seemed like a distant thunder; both on screen and from outside the window. It was real drama unfolding almost at our doorsteps. It was scary. We looked outside the window and people stopped in their tracks and were looking at the black smoke billowing from across the park. Within a few minutes, five gunmen were killed and 19 hostages were saved.

Yes, I still remember the evening of 5th May 1980. London, or rather the UK has always been a playing field, fertile grounds for foreign terrorist groups or freedom fighters, depending on how you see it.
Tomorrow, 29 years on, we are hoping for a quiet celebration, with four children and five cats.


Happy Birthday AG and thank you.

I feel a syaer coming but that will have to wait.








The one I prepared earlier:
Syaer untuk Sang Suami

Of birthdays and relatives

When you get to my age, there's bound to be celebrations that you think back with fondness. I have had a birthday surprise up in a magnificient country house hotel, set within the beautiful Chiltern Hills overlooking The Thames. Then another year, a singer jumped up on to the table and serenaded me with a birthday song, all breathless like Marilyn Monroe and another unforgetable one was the mother of all surprises when I found the husband of mine hovering over the stove at a friend's house, cooking my birthday dinner. Oh, and last year it was Raihan who sang their birthday rendition to me. But nothing can beat this! It had me rolling on the floor! Thanks everyone! Love you lots. ENJOY THIS!!

PS:
To my other significant half, Hafiz, Rehana, Nona and Taufiq - thanks for a wonderful evening and prezzies and delicious cake.
To Jefri - THANK YOU!!! A wonderful treat.
To the staff who sang when I stepped into the hotel lounge..hahaha! what a wonderful surprise.

I had a very fulfilling day working and a wonderful evening with the family.
THANK YOU.

Birthday celebrations sans moi?

My sms’es went unanswered and am feeling so left out. They are all out having fun by the poolside, with the chicken and lamb sizzling merrily on the grill, the children plunging into the water and splashing the adults sitting around and chatting.

And here I am facing my laptop, just imagining the fun and laughter, the teasing and the banter.

It is a collective birthday celebration. Today (14^th March) is Kak Cik’s. She had her present much earlier when she was blessed with a granddaughter, Nasya. So, Ton, Nasya is the present that all of us commissioned Dena to give to you.

Three days ago was my Nona’s birthday but I was busy all day at Stansted Airport, before that was brother in law, Wan’s birthday, his son Adam, and then Nasri. Also being celebrated is my birthday (soon), my brother Ajie and niece Oli.

So I can just imagine the look on Mak’s face – surrounded by all her children, daughter and son in-laws and grandchildren. She has her new set of teeth now and it shouldn’t be much of a problem for her to eat the grilled chicken. She’d want to walk around but a few steps would tire her out. She will refuse to be in the wheelchair although there are a lot of volunteers, reckless unlicensed ones, who are willing to push her around.

But she is happy, that I know. And out will come the stories of yesteryears.

She will probably tell about the birthday parties she had for us. She’d take out her collection of Pyrex – those with red roses – her pride and joy. It wasn’t everyday that we got to eat from those plates. She’d wash and keep them back in her glass cupboard, to be admired and dusted once in a while until the next special occasion.

Then, there’s her Tupperware collection too; those blue and green tumblers with matching containers for our sardine sandwiches and sardine rolls.

We’d have musical chairs and passing the parcel the way people now have Poco poco, I guess. But what simple harmless fun we had. Presents of a set of colour pencils and picture frames and autograph albums were much appreciated. No expensive ones.

I think the most expensive gift I got from Mak was the brown minibike when it was all the rave in the early seventies, and that was also for my birthday and for passing my exams. It was like receiving the key to a sports car!! I was flying in the air, and every morning I would meet up with Cik Na, also with a similar brand of minibike to cycle along Jalan Teluk Wan Jah to St Nicholas Convent. On the way back, a group of us minibikers would cycle back together and stop at Abu for noodles. Those were the days.

Anyway, have fun, everyone. Don’t mind me in cold and gloomy London. It is 11.33 am and you are all probably stuffing your face with the profiteroles that I ordered. And where is that promise to webcam? Don’t worry, I will find my own source of entertainment. I’ve watched several repeats of EastEnders as I have missed several episodes and later I have to attend an akad nikah. And I will have fun.

PS At last I got an sms from Dena: "Sedang tergolek sebab makan banyak sangat."

PPS, So, as usual, we skyped and after several interuptions and disruption, I felt as if we were all there - laughing and joking. There was Kak D, cari uban Pak Ajie, children running around and then things became quite hilarious when my husband took over the skype in a Tudung Ekin. The other side too responded with my bro in law Wan, in a Tudung Munawarah! If only I had captured it on screen! It became too much for the laptop - terus padam!

*************************************************************************************

UPDATED WITH PICTURES FROM OLI (Who didnt sleep a wink for fear she'd be thrown in the pool.

Ps Oli, it would take the entire clan to throw you in.

and......Why I'd rather celebrate from a safe (and drier) distance:

Everyone thrown in!

Mak happy watching from a safe distance as well!

Kak Teh skyped here as well:

And I was there too!

A celebration of sorts

Birthdays tend not to become too important an event especially when the figures get too big and the candles too many on the cake, posing a fire hazard. I remember my first few birthday celebrations, and oh that was so long ago. I remember Mak and her agar-agar bunga batu which was always a hit with my friends. Then there’s the kek kukus and noodles galore. All these served in her latest collection of Pyrex and syrup in those Tupperware tumblers in various shapes and colours. My school friends would turn up in their best frocks, their mode of transport being mini bikes neatly parked outside our gates.

And how we enjoyed the games of musical chairs and passing the parcel. Such simple pleasures.

I remember too some birthday surprises, one in particular that nearly gave my husband a heart attack. It was the day we were supposed to go for an important parent teachers’ meeting and he suddenly refused to go. Clearly upset, I made a unilateral decision to go by myself when a close friend called me up for tea at Whiteleys. We had tea and a bit of a rant about the strange behaviour of my other half. My daughter then phoned to say that the meeting was cancelled. So we decided to go to this friend’s place instead and drown my sorrows in a game of scrabble. I was certainly in no mood to go home.

When the door to her apartment opened, there stood my husband slaving over several legs of lamb roasting in the oven. The children and some friends were also there for the birthday surprise which nearly turned into a disaster, and one friend even came with a birthday cake the shape of a pair of voluptuous boobs that still gives me nightmares and an inferiority complex.

One year it was a drive to the countryside for lunch at a friend’s country house hotel by the Thames. It was lunch in style with some close friends and after the afternoon walk in the vast 100 year old listed garden, we settled down for tea before the long drive back into London. It was then that the French Chef walked in with a birthday cake, my name correctly spelt on the icing. What a day it was.

Anyway, this year’s quiet celebration wasn’t too bad at all. The children decided that a tomyam steamboat at Holiday Villa would be a good idea as the day was cold and there were snow flurries too. They invited some friends and Hafiz called up Uncle Jimmy and family.

It was the night after Raihan performed at the Royal Albert Hall. I was there to see their performance for Islamic Relief and what a performance they gave. And because I couldn’t have enough of their acapella, I invited them over for a bit of Tom Yam too.

Dato J was in charge of the steamboat and that was only the starters. Then we had nasi goreng kampong and mee goreng mamak. You wouldn’t believe what was served for dessert! Raihan kindly performed Assolatuwassalam - a favourite of mine!
And the family presented me with this new laptop that I am typing on.

Thank you Raihan! And thank you my sayang mamas!

It has been three weeks since I left my cats, husband and children for the warmer climes of home sweet home. Yet, why do I still feel so jetlagged and tired. The answer must lie in the fact that I must have clocked up more mileage than the Heathrow- KLIA flight and back! (And pssst! It could be age too! Don’t tell anyone but I am now a year older since I waved goodbye to my family at Heathrow airport. Hopefully they will not notice any difference, like an extra wrinkle, when I return.

On that note, first let me thank Lydia Teh for the wonderful cake she brought to the 2nd MPH Breakfast Club for Lit Bloggers. I attended the talk by Lydia (on her book, Honk if you are a Malaysian), and Xues who shared with us some tips on writing. They were introduced by Kenny Mah and Eric Forbes. Blogger Sharon Bakar was there too and I am truly honoured to be in such company. There’s really a lot to be learnt about the publishing scene here – who reads what, what sells and most importantly, how to sell it. I went back with a lot of books that Eric had kindly recommended.

Well, that night, it was a celebration of sorts. It is very rare that we are together for our birthdays. Kak Cik, my sis in law Nisa, my brother Ajie, my grand nephew Nasri and my brother in law Wan are all March babies. And as nephew Azril is leaving for Geneva soon, we thought we might as well say farewell to him too. So with all these, we had three cakes, a huge tent and some old friends and relatives from near and far and a sprinkling of distinguished guests at niece Anedra’s house.

Mak looked very happy as she was surrounded by everyone she loves. Only Kak couldn’t make it. Even the rain stayed away until we finished the outdoor celebration. And not a growl from Anedra’s neighbours in the gated community that is Zoo Negara!

It all became too much for me. The stress of combining work and networking was becoming apparent. I have not one but two ulcers in my mouth. I couldn’t eat much without grimacing with pain. On top of that I was losing my voice. Mind you, this has nothing to do with talking, but I suspect a lot to do with the night out with the boys and girls the previous night. My old school chums had kidnapped me to what was supposed to be only a Chinese meal at the Darul Ehsan Club but of course karaoke was on the agenda. That night, or was it morning, I crawled into a strange bed at my friend’s house. Too scared to go home and face Mak. I felt sixteen again. The following morning, my friend’s Mak came over. How we have not changed, she must have thought! She and my Mak know us too well.

The day before, I was in Johore with three other bloggers for the book launch of Dr Ooi Kee Beng’s ‘The Reluctant Politician’. This must have been my first visit back to Johore after 30 years. Former DPM Tun Musa launched the book and Insyaallah I will review the Reluctant Politician soon.

Just before the trip to Johore, it was the launch of Dina Zaman’s ‘I am Muslim’. I turned up quite early at the venue but was too scared to go in alone. I didn’t know anyone and felt very much a stranger in my own country. But soon, one blogger after another introduced themselves, and I felt so at home.
I must have bought seven copies of Dina’s book – and gave them as presents to my close childhood friends, some of whom are avid Dina followers.

I am looking forward to the KL International Literary Fair 2007 – more writers, more book talks and workshops! And yes, the icing on the cake must be ‘Celebrating the 70’s with Adibah Amin’ on 3rd April. MPH is celebrating the revival of Adibah Amin’s ‘As I was Passing’. I wouldn’t want to miss this event for anything.

And then, I must fly back for a rest.

So, you're sixteen, eh?

The day he started his weeklong work experience, wearing his new Zara pants, he looked so smart I nearly cried. He was so excited that he couldn’t wait to rush out of the door, giving me only two quick kisses. Only two, when it used to be four or five. I shouldn’t really be complaining, as he is after all almost an adult – he will be sixteen on the sixteenth. So, two kisses cannot be that bad. It is better than none.

He left me alone with my thoughts and memories of the day he came into my life. I remember the day the labour pains came just as H and I were enjoying a bar of Galaxy in the birthing room. When the pain came, I just wanted H to go and tell the midwife that I had changed my mind, that I didn’t need another baby. After all, we already had three. But the waves of pain were persistent and the bar of Galaxy lost its appeal. The next thing I knew H was nursing an aching and bruised arm as a result of being tugged and pulled and scratched in my attempts to make him share the pain. But the pain went with the realisation that I had been blessed with another boy to complete our set!

And all too soon, the toddler who used to cling to the back of my chair and cover my mouth with his chubby little hands whenever I tried to speak on the phone, grew up to be my closest ally, confidante and friend. The little boy whose hand I held throughout our car rides because he was scared of the dark, became my reliable bodyguard on our shopping trips together, my constant companion to just about anywhere, an easy prey to my endless emotional blackmails. A harsh critic of my satorial non-sense, he tolerates my idiosyncrasies which seem to embarass his siblings.

I remember the look on his face the day I started wearing the hijab. He was beaming from ear to ear. He must have been only twelve when I reasoned with him that I was not goingt o wear the tudung just because he wanted me to. I had to make him understand that when I wore it, it was because I was ready and that it must come from the heart. He understood. But it never stopped him from whispering “You look nice, Mama” everytime I donned a scarf to go to the surau. Now that I have a collection of Sri Munawarah’s wonderful creations, his smiles of approval never left his face ‘cos he loves how neatly the tudungs framed my face as he no longer had to sweep in the strands of hair that strayed out of my otherwise clumsily tied tudungs.

Yes, he tolerates me and humours me and for that I am glad I didnt cancel the order that day sixteen years ago. The little baby we brought back from the Hammersmith Hospital has given me so much joy and happiness and I hope and pray that he will continue to be the loving, dependable and reliable son that he is. To my sayang mama, have a wonderful birthday and although I will not be with you to celebrate this day, I will be thinking of you. Love you heaps, my little Batman!