Tuesday 26 May 2009

christian the lion



ps:natrah is my official u tube supplier =P



The furniture shop was on the King's Road in London. It sold
tables, wardrobes, chairs and desks - but anybody peering through
its plate-glass window on a Sunday might have noticed something
rather more unusual.

Amid all the pine and oak, stretched out languidly on a bench,
there was a lion. And it wasn't stuffed.


Tiger feet: Christian enjoyed living in swinging London

Tiger feet: Christian enjoyed living in swinging London


"Christian used to lie beside me while I did the accounts at
weekends," remembers Jennifer Mary Taylor, who worked there.

"And every so often, if I'd ignored him for too long, he'd sock
me across the head with one of his great big paws.

"He was very loving and affectionate - he liked to stand and put
his paws on your shoulders. But he was...", she pauses. "I mean, he
was a lion. Does that sound silly?"

Christian the lion (named by someone with a Biblical sense of
humour) arrived in

Chelsea at a time when the King's Road - home to Mick Jagger -
was the very heart of the Swinging Sixties.

For a year, the Big Cat was part of it all, cruising the streets
in the back of a Bentley, popping in for lunch at Casserole, a
local restaurant, even posing for a Biba fashion advert.

He eventually grew too big to be kept as a pet and was taken to
Kenya, where he was rehabilitated into the wild by the 'Lion Man',
George Adamson.

Now, his story is to be told in a new book, written by the
Australian John Rendall who, along with his friend Ace Berg, bought
Christian from Harrods in 1969.


John Rendall's Chelsea flat

London pride: At home in John Rendall's Chelsea flat


So what possessed them to buy a lion cub in the first place?

"A friend had been to the 'exotic animals' department at Harrods
and announced, rather grandly, that she wanted a camel," says
Rendall.

"To which the manager very coolly replied: 'One hump or two,
madam?'

"Ace and I thought this was the most sophisticated repartee we'd
ever heard, so we went along to check it out - and there, in a
small cage, was a gorgeous little lion cub. We were shocked. We
looked at each other and said something's got to be done about
that."

Harrods, it turned out, was also quite keen to be rid of
Christian, who had escaped one night, sneaked into the neighbouring
carpet department - then in the throes of a sale of goatskin rugs -
and wreaked havoc.

The store, which had acquired the cub from Ilfracombe zoo,
happily agreed to part with him for 250 guineas. So began
Christian's year as an urban lion.

Today, it would be unthinkable for a shop to take such a
cavalier attitude towards selling exotic animals (though Harrods
did, at least, provide Ace and Rendall with diet sheets).

And it is hard to imagine either the animal rights lobby or any
local council condoning a shop as a suitable habitat for a lion.
But, back then, no one minded at all.

Christian was given his own living quarters (and a very large
kitty-litter tray, which he used unfailingly) in the basement of
the appropriately named Sophistocat furniture shop.

"He had a beautiful musky smell that was very distinct," says
Rendall. "But he was clean."

The vicar of the Moravian Chapel nearby was approached to allow
Christian the run of the graveyard, and every day he was taken
there to roar around and play football.

Once, when he was brought along to a seaside picnic, he dipped
his toes reluctantly in the water and intimated with a shudder that
it was disagreeably cold. But he was eventually persuaded to swim
in the English Channel.

"He was a lot of work," says Rendall. "It took all four of us -
me, my then girlfriend Jennifer Mary, Ace Berg and an actress
called Unity Jones - to look after him.


Cat's pyjamas: Christian, rummaging through the drawers

Cat's pyjamas: Christian, rummaging through the drawers


"He also ate a lot, four meals (two liquid, two solid) plus
supplements every day, which cost about £30 a week - a lot of
money back then."

He pauses, then adds, "And he had a very good sense of
humour."

Really?

"Oh yes. Sometimes, he'd see people staring at him through the
back window of the car, keep very still on purpose - and then, just
when they were convinced he was a stuffed toy, he would very slowly
turn his head and freak them out."

Everyone loved Christian and he became a popular local figure.
In 1970, when Chelsea beat Leeds in the FA Cup Final, Sophistocat
received a call from a policeman, 'The football fans are going to
be boisterous, so you'd better get your bloody lion out of the
window or they'll smash it in,' he warned.

Christian himself was beautifully behaved, and though he never
hurt anyone, you underestimated his strength at your peril.

Jennifer Mary remembers taking a friend to see him, "after I'd
had one or two glasses of wine -and when he put his paws on my
shoulders, one of them slipped, his claw caught my dress and he
pulled the whole front of it off."

He grew and grew - from 35lb when he first arrived to a rather
more serious and imposing 185lb a year later - and he was beginning
to acquire a mane that made him look more fearsome.

He clearly could not stay with his two young owners for
ever.

His future was decided by a chance encounter - when the actors
Bill Travers and Virginia McKenna walked into the shop to buy a
pine desk.

They had recently starred in the film Born Free, which tells the
true story of the wildlife conservationist George Adamson and his
wife Joy, who raised a lion cub called Elsa in Kenya then
rehabilitated it into the wild.

And they immediately suggested that Adamson might be able to
help.

Certainly, the conservationist was intrigued by the challenge of
introducing a King's Road lion to the wilds of Africa.

"But," he warned, '"ou must be prepared for this not to work.
Elsa was born in Africa and she knew its smells. Taking a
British-born lion, whose parents were also raised in captivity, is
going to be a very different thing."

Christian was flown to Kenya in a specially-made crate
emblazoned with the words, 'East African Airways. London-Nairobi.
Christian - male lion, 12 months'. John and Ace went with him.

"I think George Adamson got quite a shock when he met us," says
Rendall. "Straight from the King's Road, in all our gear - flares
from Granny Takes A Trip, and with hair everywhere.

"We looked rather different from everyone else in Nairobi. But
then so did Christian. He'd come from winter in England, so had a
very thick coat - he was almost as hairy as we were."

Adamson wanted to drive straight to the Kora Reserve, close to
the Tana river, where there was no human habitation. This, he felt,
would be the ideal spot to build a camp.

Because lions live and hunt in prides, and it is hard to impose
a new male on an existing one, the plan was to introduce Christian
into the wild in tandem with Boy, one of the tame beasts who had
starred in Born Free.

Together, they would form the nucleus of a new pride - and the
whole project would be funded by a TV programme.

Christian was marshalled into the back of a Land Rover, with
straw on the floor and chicken-wire separating him from his friends
on the front seat. It was all rather confusing for a lion
accustomed to the butter-soft leather of a Bentley. And he was hot.
And dusty. And confused.

Not long into the journey, Rendall ventured, "Mr Adamson, he
needs to go to the loo."

Adamson was impatient.

"We're miles from anywhere. If we stop here and he runs away, we
will never, ever catch him."

"Mr Adamson," promised Rendall, "that is not going to
happen."

The great Lion Man turned his head, sucked on his pipe and
pulled over on the dirt road.

Rendall opened the back of the car, and Christian jumped out to
take his first real steps on African soil.

To his evident disgust, it was prickly and hot. He clearly
didn't like it one bit.

Rendall picks up the story, "So he went tip-toeing along and
went to the loo.

Considerably. Then he looked around and I said, 'OK, come on,
back in,' pointed back at the car - and in he jumped.

"I got back in the car, too, shut the door and George Adamson
turned round and said to me, 'That is quite remarkable. You may
call me George.'"

Kora, an area that now has National Park status, lies about 220
miles to the north-east of Nairobi. The scenery is rugged - densely
packed with knotty thorn bushes, with just a narrow corridor of
greenery that follows the course of the Tana river.

And so Christian arrived at the camp, which Adamson's brother
had built from macuti - palm fronds - chicken-wire and mud.

The conservationist went off again and returned a couple of days
later with Boy, the lion from Born Free.

At that time, Boy was very fragile, as his shoulder had been
shattered in a nasty encounter with a buffalo. But he was the first
fully-grown lion that Christian had seen since leaving Ilfracombe
zoo as a cub.

The first meeting was explosive. Normal lion protocol dictates
that the younger male should be subservient to the dominant
male.

But Christian, more schooled in Sloane than feline etiquette,
sashayed fearlessly towards Boy.

Fortunately, Christian and Boy, though in adjacent compounds,
were separated by a wire fence. In fury at the perceived slight,
Boy flung himself against it - until Christian, suddenly realising
his faux pas, slunk away with his belly close to the ground.

This process was repeated over and over again until Adamson felt
confident enough to allow the pair to meet without the safety
barrier of the fence.

"First, Boy left his compound," recalls Rendall. "Then Christian
went out to meet him.

"Boy took one look - and he clobbered him. Christian didn't
fight back. He rolled over on his back. That went on for day after
day, until Boy was obviously satisfied that Christian knew who was
boss - and they became totally inseparable."

Adamson had also acquired a female lion cub, Katania, to add to
the pride, and she seemed to act as an intermediary between the two
males.

Each day, the three lions would go out for a walk in the bush,
Boy first, Katania in the middle, then Christian - with Adamson,
carrying a rifle in case he needed to scare anything off, at the
rear.

For Christian, there were some tricky moments, such as the time
he spied a rhino and tried to stalk it, only for the beast to hurl
him through the air in a cloud of dust.

"I saw Boy turn and look at Christian," says Rendall. "There was
a look on his face, as if to say: 'You absolute fool. What a howler
of a blunder.'"

Slowly, progress was made. The biggest threat to Christian and
Boy were the wild lions that stalked the reserve, which Boy was
fighting to establish as his territory.

Then, one day, there was a tragedy that caused the whole project
to be called into question. A chef called Stanley had left the
safety of the compound to look for wild honey. He hadn't realised
Boy was nearby, and when he saw him, he tried to flee.

Running away was the worst action he could have taken. Adamson,
hearing Stanley's screams, came running and shot Boy through the
heart - but it was too late. Stanley had been bitten through the
jugular and died an hour later.

The outcry that followed almost brought the lion project to a
halt, but Adamson found some support for his work among other
conservationists, dug in his heels and carried on.

John Rendall and Ace Berg continued to make sporadic visits to
Kenya, but mostly they followed Christian's adventures from
afar.

Finally, in 1974, George Adamson wrote to say that the pride was
self-sufficient. Christian was defending it. There was a litter of
cubs. They were feeding themselves and rarely returned to camp.

The King's Road lion had finally adapted to the wild.

This was a bittersweet moment for all concerned. Rendall and Ace
decided to travel to Kora one last time, in the hope of being able
to say goodbye, though Adamson warned them that it would almost
certainly be a wasted mission.

"Christian hasn't been here for nine months. We have no reason
to think he's dead - there have been no reports of lions poached or
killed. But he may never come back," he said.

Rendall recalls, "We said: 'OK. We appreciate that, but we'll
come anyway and see you.'"

They flew to Nairobi then took a small plane to the camp in
Kora, where Adamson came out to meet them.

"Christian arrived last night, " he said simply. "He's here with
his lionesses and his cubs. He's outside the camp on his favourite
rock. He's waiting for you."

Adamson and his wife Joy often talked about the mysterious,
apparently telepathic communication skills of lions - particularly
between lions and men.

Both believed that lions were possessed of a sixth sense and
George was convinced that a scientific explanation would one day be
found.

And here, it seemed, was the proof.

"Christian stared at us in a very intense way," says Rendall. "I
knew his expressions and I could see he was interested. We called
him and he stood up and started to walk towards us very slowly.

"Then, as if he had become convinced it was us, he ran towards
us, threw himself on to us, knocked us over, knocked George over
and hugged us, like he used to, with his paws on our shoulders.

"Everyone was crying. We were crying, George was crying, even
the lion was nearly crying."

"The lionesses were far from pleased. There was a lot of
growling and spitting," continues Rendall.

"'George said: 'This isn't safe - we'd better go.' So we each
put a hand on Christian's back and he walked with us back to
camp."

The reunion party went on all night and into the morning.
Leaving his exhausted companions to go to their beds, Christian
returned to his pride.

"We watched him go back to the two lionesses, who were not at
all happy with this man, smelling of nicotine, whisky and humans,"
says Rendall.

"He just walloped the two of them with his paw, then
collapsed."

And that was the last anyone ever saw of him.

For the next 14 years, George Adamson remained at Kora,
rehabilitating several other lions and ignoring warnings from the
authorities, who did not consider it safe for him to stay.

Then, in 1989, he was ambushed and murdered by bandits.

He died with a gun in his hand and, in accordance with his
wishes, was buried at Kora.

Following his death, his supporters formed the George Adamson
Wildlife Preservation Trust, which now does work in Kora as well as
in Tanzania, where it is reintroducing the endangered black rhino
and hunting dog.

The trust's chief aim is keep alive Adamson's dream of a place
where animals can roam free - a fitting epitaph not just for the
great conservationist but also for the lion who once lived in
Chelsea

hes just not THAT into you

i learned a very valuable lesson in life today, after watching this movie that i just bought entitled HES JUST NOT THAT INTO YOU.

The movie is actually an atypical love story, telling evey girl, if the guy never calls back, or never messages, you dont have to think deep...

he didnt loose your number

the phone lines arent damaged

he is not busy with his work

hes
just
NOT THAT INTO YOU!

ahah! a very simple answer to many complicated questions to come.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

I have decided to apply this very wise principle in my life in no matter what i face. The point is, i want to stop figuring out what i do wrong, or where were my mistakes, and just stop caring too much about other people that i myself have a heartache,a headache, and just loads of aches.

Girls have this problem of always worrying too much. i wish it wasnt so. if some guy suddenly did not call me or message me, yes i would definitely think, and think, and think and think...why hasnt this guy called or messaged. and then, sometimes, like a total looser, giving up my egoistic hope, i would message, or call...and then, sometimes i would get a short message, or sometimes no reply at all...and i would then curl up in bed, with little drops of tears in my eyes. ahaa.! the exact words of a total imbecile! A character in the movie said, `i never worry if a guy does not call me back or messages me, because i know there sure are soo much more better guys out there than he ever will be`. Yupp, told like a true soldier, and a true soldier i shall be =)word of advice, he didnt loose your number, he didnt forget to call, he is not busy at all....HES JUST NOT THAT INTO YOU!!

I am not trying to flatter myself when i say i used to care a lot about what other people feel. Im always apologizing for who i am, what i did or did not do, and just basically bringing myself down for the sake of making someone else happy or just when i wanted to fit in. But, after watching this movie, i felt my head cleared, feeling theres no point in going through all that, when you can easily just dont care anymore. For me, whats worse than hatred is when you just dont give a damn...

There was this one point in life, when i just switched schools, at that time, my english had not deteriorated to this terrible level yet.so When people heard me speaking, they thought i was a show off, snobbish english-speaking brat, but in reality, i was brought up to speak english at home, and the schools i had gone to were all english-medium based. it was just that I was more comfortable speaking in english more than in any other language. I was so sad at the time, i just wanted to fit in and be like other people who can easily have a conversation, laughing out loud. So i decided to do something about it, making my first mistake, which was apologizing for who i am.

I started adding lah-s in my conversation, and trying to speak broken english. Yeah, you may say it was a stupid decision, but at the time, if you were in my shoes, at that age, i guess you would do the same thing. Even once in uni, i used to enjoy going to the front to talk or questions, not because i wanted to boast, but because i thought i was just being friendly. or so i thought. never could i be so wrong, a friend confided in me that she said everytime i went to the front, she thinks that it was because i wanted to show off. sad right~ since that day, i started to pull myself from doing such things in public, and i lowered myself to a level so ghastly, just so that other people would accept me.

Another mistake i made, was when i apologized for something which i know is not my fault, and i try to make other people happy by acting like a fool, always apologizing, and condescending myself. I say im not good in this, im not good in that, im not as pretty enough, not everything, just to keep other people happy. But what does that make me~ it has really hurt me along the way, imagine, having to tell oneself that im not good enough. I kept critiscizing myself in hopes that people would finally smile again. is it worth it i ask~

The statement do not unto others what others unto you does mean well. Nothing good comes out of revenge. SO, revenge is never a good thing. This principle that i am applying now is dont seek revenge, dont seek hatred, just DO NOT CARE anymore. THat is. its simple right. in other words, just relax lah~ go with the flow, and dont think too much.

**Sometimes it works, sometimes its hard not to think about a problem that we face. But whatever happens, happens for a reason, and it just, you know, happens. The course of our life is not decided by what we worry on, but on what we decided to do.

**If i had a problem, i would donate hours of my life trying to figure out what i did wrong in hopes of finding a solution. But as of today, i know that everything has a solution....but not everything must be solved.

**i was surfing the net just now and got this of someones blog, and yeah,its so true!



** its a bit too big to put on mine, but it says

THERES A POINT IN LIFE WHEN YOU GET TIRED OF CHASING EVERYONE AND TRYING TO FIX EVERYTHING.
BUT ITS NOT GIVING UP
ITS REALIZING YOU DONT NEED CERTAIN PEOPLE AND THEIR CRAP~

Monday 25 May 2009

monologue

Nadya :

I think being in the scientific field, or specifically medicine has somewhat blunted my brain on my literature side.

Besides a slow pace with my studies, i have been totally wrecking my brains to write something on my blog, for all that its worth, i do long to write something worth helping me in my time of usual turmoil at the end of the semesters.

Blog :

Well, have you found anything interesting to write about, i have been waiting for nearly a week and you have missed your deadline

Nadya :

Well, i am kind of busy with my studies now, blog!

Blog :

yehh yehh... you always give excuses, i do see you clicking the laptop every half hour, and just staring into space. stop with the excuses, and admit your just some lazy bum

Nadya :

Whatever blog~
Hey, speaking of space, i was thinking of changing your name

Blog :

Oh yeah~ to what

Nadya :

Well, i was thinking to change your layout too, its kind of boring isnt it.
ANd your name, maybe we should change it to something like the hitchhikers guide to the galaxy, or something more bombastic than that

Blog :

Are you sure this is a good idea

Nadya :

I dont know, but its worth a try, maybe with that i would find more stuff to write about.

Blog :

i will be the judge of that, say, why do you always like to give me a face lift everytime its near your exams

Nadya :

Sory, i think the internet connection is bad tonight, alright, catch you later blog,~
toodles!

ps, if i were to change your name, then i would call you the hitchhiker...but it does sound pretty weird doesnt it~)

Wednesday 20 May 2009

Sunday 17 May 2009

in memory of a pair of lion king shoes~




i believe every shoe has a story.....

and

i believe every story has a shoe.......

When i was small, i was an avid fan of the lion king MOVIE. when we were in the states, dad took us to the cinema every weekend to watch the cartoon over and over again. it costs us a dollar each, and every time we went, we would get free posters. i loved the movie, mom would cry all the time during the sad parts, kakak would look with her mouth open and abang would whine about us not watching star wars. but dad took us anyway...i dont know if it was because it only costs us a dollar, or was it because i loved the movie...i believe it was the latter though~

since we were living in the states, a young malaysian family, just starting to blossom in the world, we had to cut on costs here and there. i think if i went back to who i was during my sweet childhood days, i would probably gawk at the amount of shoes i have now. it was different then, but life was and still is a golden moment during our childhood arent they. i remember my very first pair of american shoes(which was probably made in china)( because there was this one time, my father bought a walkman for kakaks birthday, and when we flipped the sides, it wrote MADE IN MALAYSIA...haha)

i treasured the shoes so much, it was a pair of sneakers, white with flashing lights if you stepped on it. i felt it was the most exquisite thing my eyes ever saw..but most important of all, it had a picture of Nala, a character in lion king. I felt special everytime i wore it. i used to tell my american friends,` see, i have a pair of magical shoes, everytime i wear it, i become as fast and strong as the lions in lion king!`. i dont know if they believed it, of if they just smirked behind my back, but i did not care. i was in my ultimatum, i was with my lion king shoes....

we lived in the states for nearly 2 years, winter, summer, autumn and spring, i never once went out of the house without my lion king shoes. every summer, there would be a marathon, and every marathon, i would wear those shoes. one summer, mom told me that i had to get rid of the shoe, just a few days before the marathon, she would buy me a new pair, she said. and i cried.....what would happen to me, my power would be taken away from me! no! i cant run anymore! mom tried to coax me, saying that the power to run comes from within, and not from the shoes...i did not believe her, and i pleaded to run for the last time in my lion king shoes~ and i did~...

I ran, and i ran as fast i can, a small scrawny malaysian girl amongst big sized giants. But with my lion king shoes, i could do anything. i believed in them! i would win! and In the end, i did win the marathon. an achievement that i still keep in my mind until today. if you believe in yourself, you really can do it, no matter how tough it looks!

a few months later, it was time to go back to malaysia, sadly, i had to leave those shoes behind, by that time, mom had bought me a pair of black shoes with (could you believe it, barbie doll on the sides!). But who was i to complain, i did not complain when i was small, unlike now, now im just a whiney complaining spoilt brat with abundance of love but not knowing how to appreciate it~ As i did not complain, i wore those shoes everywhere i went too, mom never bought us flip flops or sandals. The first time i wore sandals was when i was in form 2, and i practically tripped over my own feet! I wore my barbie doll shoes until one day, when i took them of in the car during a long drive somewhere, suddenly everyone rolled down the window, and started screaming at me to put my shoes back on! loe behold! all this time, i had stinky feet for never opening my athletic shoes!haha--lol!

i think those shoes kind of decided my the type of childhood that was to come.Would you believe if i said i was a very boyish girl. i think dad wanted a boy instead of a girl. He brought us up to be tough, manly girls! aha! atleast he tried to. and it did work out when i was small. i was not allowed to wear any jewelry or read any gurly magazines. instead, we would spend our afternoons riding our horses, flying kites, or having imaginary adventures in rivers wide. I remember an incident when dad told me to close my eyes, and open my hands, he had a present to give me. Grinning wide, i held out my hand and he curled my fingers around something soft and warm. what was it!!what was it!!!excited i was!! i quickly opened my eyes ,and guess what it was! it was............HORSE DUNG!owh dad! how could you, i thought at that time, and i cried the whole afternoon to my mom who scolded dad for playing such a trick on me. but dad laughed his hat off, and those were the days....we lived like cow boys, free of any troubles, only remembering the memories that some children are not so lucky to have.

I just watched laskar pelangi last night, an indonesian movie based on a famous novel. Seeing those kids, i felt how difficult life was for them, for an education, for fending themselves, or even for a pair of shoes. THe kids ran around bare footed or with rubber sandals bought at some china mans shop. It made me rethink of the values that mom and dad had instilled in us since we were small, but along the way i had somehow lost them. Dad is a very simple and humble man, bringing us up just the way he is, caring for others. WE did for some time, way back when we were still with our families. But the malicious world told us not to become humble, and here i am, a product of mankind, lost is my humbleness, and i regret loosing that.


There has been many pair of sneakers along the way, but i would always remember my lion king shoes. as a child, i believed it had magical powers, giving me wings to fly, strength to jump, and speed to run like a lion! They taught me how to win, how to loose, how to accept everything, how to be humble, how to love the world around you, and most importantly how to believe in myself...it dared me to DREAM!

I dedicate this entry to my lion king shoes..
representing who i was..
presenting who i still thrive to be..
i will..
be...
a pair of lion king shoes....



Growing up, those pair of sneakers were the greatest gift my parents ever gave me,they gave me the gift of a childhood......





** Alhamdulillah, my childhood was full of love and happiness. mom and dad, you have succeded in giving only happiness to mine..i cant ever repay the happiness of my childhood, but i would try to bring happiness to your lives ahead. hopefully~

heyya!

hello hello

i miss you dear technology!

i have been living for a hermit for weeks, when i suddenly found out that if you ordered your internet, and havent paid yet, you would still have to pay the same amount next month...i was dumbfounded! but unfortunately when i told everyone that i just knew about it, they were like, d-uhh~huhu

anyway, something interesting happened on my jog today. its been awhile since i went jogging, my knees really hurt...sighh....but anyway, we went out at 7.30 in the morning and started our usual weekend jog. today was not tiring, but my knees felt like someone put pins in them. im going to see a specialist after exams, i hope theres nothing bad =(

after the jog, we walked the stuffy roads of the sunday market. and woahhh!!i found my one true love! this animal here! it was for sale, can you believe it! its soooo cute!!!seriously!!!at first, me and `I` hesitated to touch it, but once i held out my hand, it curled to my fingers like a baby! omg!im so in love with it!! im going to call it mammoth-mammoth!!haha! i did not bring any money, and the man said that the starting price was 150k, woooo..drool....i want it..i want it...i think i want it more than i want a cat...the one i held was a bit older, but there was a baby which someone had already bought. when `I` held it, it started making clucking noises.aaaaa~want want~~~

this animal is called a slow loris. if i dont know the name, i always google the big eyed animal that always comes out in national geographic...and out pops the picture of this animal. i think it is endangered, but here, no one cares. i do care, but then again...its soo cute...may i~~~pleeease~~~~






read this~...(but i want)huhu


Today, from the AFP (Agence France-Presse)

Aboriginal Bom tribesmen have found a “critically endangered” ash-white and owl-eyed monkey in the southeastern Bangladesh hills.

The monkey, known locally as “Lajjaboti Banor”, weighs about five kilograms (11 pounds) and was found at a forest in the Banderban hill district, the official BSS news agency said Monday, quoting zoology officials.

It had not been for years, officials said, without being able to pinpoint when the animal was last sighted.

The monkey’s dominant features are big eyes and long black stripes on its back. It is very shy and hides its face on seeing humans.

One problem with the story. This is not a monkey.

Wednesday 13 May 2009

the worm, the surau and a pair of 100 dollar shoes~

since i dont have internet at home, and i have steadfastly decided not to get it this month, i have wholeheartedly set my foot in the begging territory. far from the comfort of my room and comfy keyboard, i am now typing in the computer lab, during break. sheesh~

anyway, its 12.30 in the afternoon now. i just finished praying and i did not finish my learning issue. actually i did, but i did not put it on paper. lab was very boring today, i did what i usually do in lab, sit down, stare at the empty tables or go and talk to some random victim of my boredom. my stomach was grumbling, and i looked down in my lab coat, there was only 15k in it. and thats the only amount i have to last me until my next scholarship money comes in. bummer. obviously it wont last, see, i told you i would have to resort to begging!

the food in our canteen is such a mouthsore, not much choice and very expensive. i would have to cut down on what i wanted to buy. i did not want to buy in the first place, but with my ever severe gastritis, no matter how little money i had, i still had to eat. i think the makcik at the canteen gave me yesterdays fried food, it tasted awful, i nibbled a bit, sighing at the loss of my money on such awful tasting food. after finishing, i went to the surau next to the canteen to pray.

lo behold!!it was a worm fiesta!! there were worms in the shoes, worms on the shoe rack, worms on the prayer mat, worms on the roof and falling down , and then...there was me screaming! i dont like worms, i had a very traumatized childhood with worms....eeeewww!!give me a snake any day, i can handle, (yerright), but not worms! they are so scrawny, small and move so seductively slow and wobbly that you can never fall in love with a worm....whatmore with this worm conference being held in front of the surau. and inside, mind you. i tiptoed into the surau, bringing my shoes with me, and people were gawking, not at the rooms, but the fact that i brought my shoes into the surau.

it was like i did not respect the house of God~

I had a very strong affinity towards worms, and i seriously couldnt stand them. its no joke, put a worm on me anyday, and ill probably faint twice. yeahh,it sounds pretty much like any other girlish girl would be afraid of, but i shamefully say, that side of me is definitely girly!

ANyway, back to the story...so i brought my shoes in, and many mouths were tsk tsking at me for bringng my shoes in. there were a few worms around me on the floor, and some said that God wanted to punish me for bringng my shoes in that he surrounded me witht these worms. i did not mean any disrespect, and i know my boundaries of bringing shoes in, but rest assured, i only put less than a milimeter of my heels on the floor. i dont think it even caused a freckle on the floor.

hehe...
i thought the whole incident was funny though
there were worms
there was me screaming
and then there were the shoes~~ and suddenly, no one was thinking about the worms anymore, it was all about the shoeeess~ haha....


i have to go now, in search of harvard hottie, must be in the canteen now...hohoho~...just kidding, i have to go there to give my friend her labcoat...anyway...toodles,.....sorry my blog does not have anything of interest now...blame it on the internet....wwuwuwuwuwu

Tuesday 12 May 2009

the kite runner




(saya curi2 guna kawan saya punya internet pagi ni..hehe...*blush2*, kalau xdpt online,saya tengah online la tu)hehe

I had finished reading this book a long time ago, during my last visit back home. mom and kakak were really steadfast on telling me this is a good book. but it is definitely. almost surreal. its a pretty famous book, most of my friends who take a cup of coffee with a good book have heard of it. i havent. what does that mean~

anyway, i really enjoyed this book, im too lazy to make a summary out of it today. but do read it~

Khaled Hosseini's quietly powerful debut novel The Kite Runner fulfills the promise of fiction, awakening curiosity about the world around us, speaking truth as the lessons of history echo down the years. The themes are universal: familial relationships, particularly father and son; the price of disloyalty; the inhumanity of a rigid class system; and the horrific realities of war.

In Afghanistan, young Amir's earliest memories of life in Kabul are blessed with a cultural heritage that values tradition, blood ties and a deeply rooted cultural identity. Upper class Pashtuns, Amir enjoys the luxury of education, material comfort and a constant playmate, the son of his father's longtime Hazara servant, Hassan.

Twice in his lifetime Amir is morally tested in his relationship with Hassan. The first time, a victim of his own arrogance, Amir fails his companion. Hiding behind the superiority of class, Amir chooses the path of least resistance, but the scar of betrayal cuts through his soul and never heals. That first failure dictates Amir's inner dialogue throughout his life, even in America, until he is offered another chance at personal redemption. Returned to his homeland at the request of an old family friend, the second challenge is equally perilous, and Amir recognizes the very real implications of his decision. This internal struggle is the underlying theme of the novel, which spans Afghani history from the peaceful 70's to the repressive rule of the Taliban in the late '90s.

Played out on the world stage, a desperate battle to preserve the cultural heritage of Afghanistan spans Amir's life in Kabul and America. While Amir and his father reside safely in America, their homeland is decimated by constant warfare -- streets lined with beggars, fatherless children whose future is marginalized by poverty: "There are a lot of children in Afghanistan, but little childhood." The sweet simplicity of youthful winters spent "kite running" with Hassan seem light years away, illuminated by the boys' unfettered innocence.

Against this stark landscape, the adult Amir is challenged as never before, charged with the protection of a young life already scarred by the random violence visited upon the disenfranchised. With inordinate compassion and stunning simplicity, Hosseini portrays Amir's impossible dilemma. Complications abound, but the answer lies in humanity's capacity for kindness. The grace of acceptance heals the wounds of brutality, for with forgiveness anything is possible, even the wild joy of soaring kites against a winter sky.

the worse i will overcome, the best is yet to come!

i seriously need my own internet

i am now in total gratitude to someone for borrowing this instrument of total release from boredom when hes out or asleep

i need internet

i need internet

i need money to pay the internet

i finished it on a stupid dress

im bored

i dont want to sleep, subuh is just an hour and a half away

i dont have anything to write about

actually i do

but i dont feel like writing it yet

im reading a book

been reading it for some time

i miss my ----

i really do! =)

i have to study

its raining outside

my eyes are fluttering

i want to sleep

must not

must not

must ZZZzzzzzZZ~~~

standing tall in high heels~




Occasionally, no, most of the time, i wear high heels,whether it is to class or out for shopping, or just on a casual day somewhere. my feet ache, my leg muscles do scream in agony, but i walk the talk, standing high in my high heels. why go through so much suffering, you may ask~~~well, blame it on society and the type of people it has brought up to be.

SO, im this ordinary girl who suddenly stopped shorty, literally, of growing up at a young age. Standing only a few centimetres over 5 feet, i am definitely no towering personality. I do realize that im short,no, im vertically challenged and i have begun to embrace it, sometimes, but that doesnt mean that embracing who we are gives other people the ability to look down upon your imperfections.

I always seem to chance upon people who love to rub the imperfections that i have in my face. for example, they would go like `oh my god, do you realize how short you are`, or `how does it feel to be so short`, or maybe something less hurtful like `YOU ARE SHORT`..well, i never! *puff* I just dont understand where did the politeness in our community go. dont people have feelings no more, or is it just i that have too much to feel. People who are lucky enough to be born with something of additional quality like height, less weight, or less melanin in their skin, sometimes unknowingly or knowingly look down upon people who did not have such luck.

If i notice something that is imperfect about someone, i really really try my best to refrain from saying anything about it. (if i did, please take note that it was never, never intentional), or if it was, it was only to people who i was really mad at because they dont have the courtesy to refrain their mouth on gawking at someones unchosen imperfections. seriously, i dont understand, never will and hope i never understand people like that. but then again, who am i to judge others~

woahh, this sounds like an emo entry....but its not at all...its just something i was thinking about a long time ago.~

ANyway, in the bigger picture, i dont care what people say about me, although i do take it to heart sometimes. But as i said, to embrace your imperfections, is a route to being perfect. If people say it as a joke, i dont mind it much, im all grownup now, hey, thats nothing man. But if they rub it in my face, god, i wish i could just freaking let them have a taste of how it feels like to be in my shoes!

Im short, and i cant do anything about it
But atleast im female, and thank god someone invented heels.
If i was tall, i would never want to wear high heels and just wear loafers everywhere i go
Too bad im short, but hey, im still standing tall!! =)

Monday 11 May 2009

misery is a second black dress

owh wow!

so sorry blog for the late entry....

it took me nearly a week not to pay my internet, i still havent paid yet, and am borrowing someones internet in the meantime.

it took me nearly half an hour to sign in to my blog, because the internet is slow, and im watching a movie while typing, so this post might be rubbish-ish.

i still dont have internet, so i wont be blogging for awhile..sigh..my life is a bore..

ps- lots of grammatical and spelling errors because im typing in the dark~
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I was out with some friends the other day, we went to bandung straight after class on some `important` matters. We searched quickly, and after only and hour or two, the important matters were finished in a jiffy. I was so proud, no, extremely proud that i only spent 20k on some `important` matters. Strutting around the shopping mall, proud of my achievement, i chanced to glance at this shop, one of my favourite shops to buy clothes, a bit pricey, but i love the colours. no,i must not go in, no no no ....at last..i went in~argh...i have the weakest faith..i am A SHOPAHOLIC...*sheepish smile*

i walked in, my friends had headed to mcd, i was all alone in a world that i couldnt keep away from, and obviously had no strength to turn away from. i swirled in the beautiful colours of clothes, clothes, clothes galore!owh, im in heaven!!haha~and suddenly, there it was, on a mannequin, a dress, i felt it, IT WAS CALLING FOR ME, I BELONG TO YOU, YOU BELONG TO ME, WE BELONG WITH EACH OTHER..i liked 2 dresses in the shop.oh my god! i dont know why! i tried it on in the dressing room, it looked really well, and owh, i just had to buy them. i couldnt decide. i couldnt ask anyone for opinions, which to buy, which!!!...and i bought 2 black dresses that looked nearly the same............

9.30 pm -- walked out of shop with triumphant smile, bought something

9.35 pm -- smile falters

9.45 pm -- realize bought nearly same looking dress

9.50 pm -- realize it was too pricey for a simple dress

10.00 pm -- went home

10.30 pm -- felt like shooting myself~~haha

decisions...haihh, why do we have to make decisions, and sometimes make stupid ones like just now..i just dont understand~

_____________________________________________________________________________________


being an adult means growing up, having big responsibilities and the worst thing is that we have to make decisions. one thing about me is that im a really bad decision-maker, i think slowly, take an extremely long time to decide, and when i do decide, i always feel that i made the wrong decision in the first place, and then regret it.

how do i change that...its so hard, there are always so many decisions to make. i specifically hate it when im driving, and you have to decide which way to go in like split seconds, and you cant think too long because the cars at the back would start cursing you, and then when you do decide and take the road.....you find out that it was the wrong one. that sucks major time~ and it always happens to me. its like just when my heart tells me to take a road, if i dont follow it, my brain would analyze something, and choose the other way. and it would be the wrong one~

so what are we supposed to do about that. people always tell me dont follow your heart, think first, follow what your head has thoroughly thought over. some say, the instincts in your heart is the most powerful tool in mankind and therefore should be trusted in making decisions. even deciding which opinion about decisions is hard to decide, what more deciding to decide!

My mom is a very good decision maker, unlike me sadly. she always seems to know things and can somehow magically predict the outcome. no wonder she teaches critical thinking in university, what a wonder woman my mom is~( oh dear, its mothers day today, and i should have posted something about moms, haihh, later2, i will once i get my hands on my own internet) . my brother is more like mom, he thinks quitely, weighing the pros and cons in the cony head of his, and wisely makes a decision. me and my sister seem to share one thing in common, frantically, panically jump into a conclusion and think that is the right thing to do, and at the next moment falter with that decision.

Alright, enough blabbering~ (another trashy post by me)

BAck to the black dresses,and the connection between the black dress and this post. I liked one better than the other, and regret buying the other one so much that i felt like returning it, but i was totally lazy to drive back to bandung the next day. so i spent the whole night fretting to myself in sefless regret. it really felt like the end of the universe..haha~ at the end of the day, i gave up, there was no way i would drive all the way just to change it, and just had to live with my decision of owning two black dresses that looked nearly the same~

Suddenly, this bright sunday afternoon, a friend asked me out for something that we both had to do and said he would drive. it was like a miracle!the best part was, the place we had to go was near the mall....and i eventually could change the dress to a nicer one, and i dont regret buying a 2nd dress~

So, heres the moral of the story~~~~hehe

We are grownups

We are always expected to make decisions

We can make decisions

THey can be right

But they can be wrong most of the time

We can make decisions, and we may regret them

We make mistakes

But we are only human, u and i~

I learnt that i do try to decide, and i have improved in trying to make decisions. But it is a learning process that comes with the package of growing up. Sometimes, using my instinct, i do make the right decisions, and sometimes by thinking, i make the wrong ones. But making a wrong decision just makes us bloom into making us better human beings. i always learn by my mistakes, (which are a lot of mistakes), and i try not to do it again. but the most important thing, is no matter how bad the decision we made is, just never give up, there will always be a perfect solution around the corner.~

I will always remember the black dress that i bought.

It reminds me of the word decision

So if you ever buy a second black dress, you can regret for awhile, but keep in mind that you can still do something about it =)

cheers!

Tuesday 5 May 2009

i dont want to say goodbye =(

Im doing my past year questions VERY very slowly, i have a deadline, but i cant seem to be focusing on what im doing. Maybe a little bit of blogging should help (not)~

Actually feling a bit sad now, because i just finished my goodbye letters to my 2 best friends since zaman hingusan in kutpm....sedihnya, feel like crying, dah cry pun....i did not have time to see them much the last days before they go back. so tonight we are going out, maybe for the last time in our lives, i dont know.... sedihnya...sedihnya......menangis x henti ni~~~~rindunya kat deorang.....sedihhhhhhhhhhh

i wish we had more time to spend, argh....sedih....i cant write anything coz tengah menangis sambil tulis....wuwuwuwuwuw.......

i remember the first time i met them in kutpm, i went into the same house with them, and there was such a chemistry that we got along quickly. kenangan pahit, manis, jahat, baik, we had gone through together. not many here know im EXTREMELY CLOSE to them and i love these 2 girls so much..they have always been there for me no matter what. when i had problems, i would run to their place just to talk to them and stay the night there....now, i dont have any place to go....i will miss them so much...

i dont know what rubbish im writing now, i know im just crying like mad~~~ wuwuwuwuwuwuwuuwwu

how can friends be so valuable to you, i dont know...but they are to me.... it feels bad that i have to cry for them, when i really should be happy because they finally finished here, tapi xboleh....nak menangis jugak......xnak deorng balik.....nanti rindu sorang2.... =( =(

cant wait to see them tonight, but the minute i see them, it means that i have to say goodbye.....xsanggup nak jumpa.....nanti menangis lagi teruk....=( ......dahla tengah dengar lagu nasyid time ni, haihh, lagi la nak menangis....eeeeeeeeeeee
eeeeeeeeeeee
eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee......

i need inspiration, not broken promises

today, yesterday, and a few days before has been very monotonous. life has been the same as always, class begins either around 7 or 9, i wake up 15 minutes before, rushing, and go to class. on hot days, i take the car, but now, they tragically are doing roadworks at the university entrance. So, it takes me nearly 15-20 minutes to get to class, when normally i can reach in 5 minutes.

Car is very dirty. keep reminding myself to get it washed. but the jam in jatinangor is so bad that i dont have the mood to send it for washing, i want to wash myself but i dont have time. Have lots of work to do, and i keep putting things off. Thats a really bad habit of mine. Its either i put things off(is it off or of,i always get confused), or i dont put my heart into everything i do unless i really want it.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Hmm, since i have lack of inspiration today, i just would like to make a few notes.

1. to my tutorial mates,

im sorry my work hasnt been good this semester, i know i did not try hard and i did not do my learning issues well. i am ashamed of that fact because i used to pride myself that i would put my everything in my presentation so that other people understand. but this semester, i dont know why, maybe its because of the lack of inspiration ...or its just plain laziness. I dont know which, but i have to stop this. i can totally see the clueless stares my dear tutorial mates give me, and i feel the terrible pang of guilt. i would just like to say im sorry, ill try better next time.

~~~

haihh, the lack of inspiration is so bad that i dont even have any idea what to write to my tutorial mates. Im doing past year questions now, and i was supposed to finish it by today, but im still doing it. (haihh, nak buat past year questions pun tengah tiada semangat)...

did someone take away my passion, my inspiration~

Monday 4 May 2009

thanks for the memories

Hey there friend, do you still remember me
Do you still think of me, of how we used to be
Or think of how we could have been
In the future, in the past, after all we had seen…

Hye friend,
I still remember you, I miss you, and all the time I remember
I still think of you, and I wished that our hearts had melted together
If only fate had other plans, things could have differ
But it was not meant to be, and not you, but I was to suffer…

Hey friend,
Did you find me, did I find you, or did we find each other
Who joked first, who smiled first, and filled my life with laughter
Did you bring me this far, just to let me go down a path alone
Did you mean the things you said, before you became as hard as stone…

No friend,
Maybe we shouldn’t have met in the first place
Me and you, what we had, is now nothing but waste
All this time, I was the one who valued our friendship more than anything,
How was I to know, you are everything, and me to you means nothing…

Stop friend,
I am tired of wishing for things to change, you don’t even know you are hurting me
How can you live your life with all those lies, and you don’t even feel guilty
You dragged me this far, leaving me at a junction, don’t know where to go
Even though I wish it was different, I know the answer would always be no…

Ok friend,
You have made your decision, and I have made mine
We would look back, you can smile, but know that I can only afford a cry
Its hard to change, you know, I know, that love is blind,
But I cant force anything, except just force myself to say goodbye…

Dear friend,
Maybe next time you should appreciate what you have or had
I just want you to know, you made my life, one too sad
Maybe you didn’t mean to do the things you do, I understand and I forgive
Alright dear friend, I have to move on, ive decided, im going to live…

Goodbye friend,
Don’t forget me, and I wont forget you
The things in the past, I still wish it were true
I hope what we once dreamed of would become realities,
In the meantime, dear friend, thanks for the memories…




*** i should be studying right now, but my stomach ache hasnt gone away, so i cant focus (alasannn)and felt like writing a poem

*** heres a poem, to no one in particular, maybe fact or fiction, believe what you want to believe

*** hahaha~~ i think its extremely jiwang, all my poems are sadistically so~

Sunday 3 May 2009

ashamed no more~



Have a very bad stomach ache today because of you-know-what and also that-you-know what and i had a very late breakfast and a late lunch. So i lulled myself to sleep the whole day to stop the pain until it was 2.30 in the afternoon. Waking up, the pain hasnt gone, but it has lessened, and it still is here~ouch! But, i cant let down my faithful blog today, i promised to write to you didnt i. I have decided that i dont want to let down any promises, and must do as i say i want to do..wish me luck on that~

I cant think well today, so my entry might be full of blabbers and unfortunate thoughts.

_______________________________________________________________________________________

I have a confession to make. I am sometimes ashamed of what i write in my blog =( I mean, i dont know why, but most of my entries seem to be about God, religion and all that. And then, when people see the real me, they would go like, huh, why is she writing on all those things when she herself isnt anything like what she portrays to be. I write on my blog things that i face everyday, mistakes i make, lessons that i learn and all that i feel like writing about. Sometimes i cant help it if i suddenly want to write about religion and all, but it is just what i felt like writing on. And i did feel so ashamed of it~~

But then,i went for the comparative religion seminar on friday and saturday. Hearing what the speaker had to say, the feeling of shame has somewhat disappeared, although not totally, but it has literally gone down the drain. SOmething he said made me feel ashamed that i had felt ashamed in the first place. In a nutshell, the whole event was a real mind opener, and i should go to more things like that to remind me again and again~and again *_* Heres a summary of the things i remembered and that i took note of~

PATUNG, SAYA DAH TAHU AWAK BUKAN TUHAN

Most were pretty familiar with the speakers that day, Brother Shah Kirit and also his little brother who are both converts and has been Muslims for nearly 13 years. They grew up in a Hindu family, praying to the Hindu Gods and had no notion whatsoever of what was to change their lives forever. They gave a brief introduction on how they converted into Islam, the challenges they faced and the little signs God gave that eventually evolved into their lives. As a little boy, Bro Shah knew that the truth was out there, but he just did not know where to find it. He jokingly said that when he was small,he would pray,Tuhan, saya tak tahu awak wujud ke tak, kalau awak wujud, jagalah saya, tapi kalau awak tak wujud, saya xda apa2 nak crita.

While i was hearing his speech, it did wrench my heart at the words that he said. A funny man at times, but beneath all that joke, was a serious message that he wanted to convey. He said, while he was growing up, he was surrounded by a lot of Malay friends, Muslim friends, but not one, told him about the beauty of Islam. Not one really had the courage, or the patience to da`wa to him. Have the Muslims no pity on the people who do not know the truth, do they not care if others went unto hellfire because they died as kafirs when no one actually guided them to the right path. If he had died as a non-believer, he would curse all the people who did not try to help him, and bring them with him to hell. The room fell silent as he poured out these words, the laughter before had faded, and all looked down, a feeling of guilt in our hearts. IT is true what he said, and all of us knew it.
kenapa Islam disorokkon dari masyarakat...
At that point, i looked down at my hands, not wanting to look up because i felt the guiltiest of all. I am a Muslim, but i dont act like one, and i certainly did not take upon me the responsibility of helping others to understand about Islam. That was when i realized, i could change that, and i could do something about this... i would not stop blogging about my religion, even though with what little knowledge i had, i must be proud of what i do, i must go on, i can write,so Nadya Amin Shaharudin...write wisely~~

Nowadays, people are afraid of the very word ISLAM, MOSLEMS, ALLAH, QURAN. The very perceptive of Islam has changed, whether in our hearts, in the way we live, in the way other people see Islam, which is the most misunderstood religion in the world. When Bro Shah first wanted to know about Islam, he was afraid, because people told him that he cant do this, he cant do that, there were so many things he couldnt do that he definitely doubted the very truth of Islam. It was not until later when he met someone, who firstly told him about the beauty of Islam, the stories of the prophets and the very truth and revelations in the Quran that he became to love Islam. The moment that changed him forever was when he first read surah al-ikhlas, one of the shortest verses in the Quran, but with a very powerful meaning. For us moslems, the verse is so powerful that even with 3 recitations, it is equal to reading the whole Quran. Listening to the story of Bro Shah, now i know the reason why.

"He (Abud Darda) reported God's messenger as saying, "Is any of you capable of reciting a third of the Qur'an in a night?" On being asked how they could recite a third of the Qur'an he replied, " 'Say, He is God, One' is equivalent to a third of the Qur'an." Muslim transmitted it, and Bukhari transmitted it from Abu Sa'id."

Bismillah Ar-Rahman Ar-Raheem
Qul Huw-Allahu Ahad
Allah-us-Samad
Lam yalid wl lam yulad
Wa lam yakul lahu kufuwan ahad

In the name of Allah, the Most Beneficent, the Most Merciful.
Say: He is Allah, the One!
Allah, the eternally Besought of all!
He begetteth not nor was begotten.
And there is none comparable unto Him.


DA`WA, WIN THE HEAD AND WIN THE HEART

To spread your religion is not an easy task, everyone knows that. But to show the beauty of your religion, is one that must be undertaken. During his speech, he said that whenever someone asks you about your religion, never argue about the truth. Take time to listen, to think, and to answer with proof. I wish i could be more like him, the very fundamentals of Islam at his fingertips, and how long has he been as Muslim...13 years....how long have i been a Muslim~~21 years

During his early years before he finally converted, his parents, now both still Hindu, had at many times threatened to kill themselves. IT made his decision harder, but he steadfastly put his heart and soul on his decision. In the end, his love to God would have the perfect solution. 13 years has passed and his parents had finally accepted his and his brothers decision little by little. It was definitely not easy, and they faced too many challenges by taking that step, but they pushed on and never looked back. What strong people they are, truly one that we must take as an example in our weak lives.

** As a very naive person in my religion, i nonchalantly pushed aside my duty to spread Islam. How little confidence i have about answering questions when people ask me about Islam, now that is something i should be ashamed of. I have decided, now, no more. Outwardly, i may still be like someone who doesnt know much, but inwardly, i will try harder!

** It takes time to change, but change is needed.

** So the next time someone wonders why someone like me wants to write about religion in her blog, i wont be ashamed of it, because in my heart i know, at least i am doing my responsibility, no matter how small it is~~

Saturday 2 May 2009

What a prayer is worth (2)

** if you have not read part 1, i would advise you to close your eyes and read the entry below before reading this..no peeking =)

Hye there, im back from the comparative religion seminar. It was just as good as i thought it would be, no, it was way better. Theres so many things that i found interesting that i would like to share, but maybe i would do it in another entry. InsyaAllah.

Anyway, theres this other story i would like to share, also based on my experience. YOu must be bored reading about my experiences, but as of now, i have very little knowledge, my life so far has been based on experience. When i was the pizza-faced teenager at age 13, i was (notice the usage of the word was) a semi- bright student. I dont know why, but suddenly, at that particular year, my brain grew a bit bigger, and i became a smarty-pants.I knew i did not have to study much, and for sure i would get a perfect score in my exams and gain the most wanted 1st placing in class, and among the top 10 in the whole batch. Theres only 2 explanations for that, it was either i was a genius, or i was a geek. I think i was a geek. haha...

Well as the story goes, i would always get number 1 in class for every exam, and i loved the attention (who doesnt). There was this chinese boy in my class who was also a mr smarty-pants who would always try to beat me for the top spot (because chinese people are supposed to be smarter than malays, that is the common acknowledgement). So we were friends, but, there i was, a big competition to him. It was the end of the year, and in high school, the end of the year exams were major. Maybe i was too proud of my achievement so far, that i did not study much and when the results came out, i was number 4 in class, and the chinese boy got 1st. I never felt so humiliated in my life, i felt the whole world was over. And to make things even worse, i had to go through the whole day looking at that chinese boy with a super big smile on his face, he had finally beaten this malay girl.

I went home crying, it was the end of the world~ I did not dare tell my dear mother that i did not get number 1 this time, so who did i consult, i decided to talk to God. At that time, i performed the solat hajat. With tears streaming down my face, i prayed~

Dear Allah, if you are hearing this prayer, please know that i am so sorry that i might have been too proud of myself all this while. I promise i will not be proud of anything anymore, everything that i achieved so far is from you.
Dear Allah, i know its too late to change anything now, but i really really really wish that you could spare some time to fulfill my prayer. Just this one prayer~ Did you know i got number 4 this year, i am so ashamed, dear Allah, i know its too late, but......~


The next day at school, the teacher called me and the chinese boy into her office. Guess what, the teacher had mistakenly changed our marks, and i was supposed to be number 1, and the boy number 4. I say, that was one of the biggest miracles i had ever experienced in my life although it was for something small, but hey, it mattered a lot to me at the time *_*

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If anyone asks me, what a prayer is worth, theres only one thing i would answer. To me, a prayer is worth more than anything in the world and because of prayers, i now believe in miracles. I know that my experiences have nothing to do with life and death or anything, it is just something small that i had gone through along the way, but has left a big mark until now.

A prayer is one of the main things in Islam, and believe it or not, it is one of the easiest thing to do. Just spending 10 minutes to think about God, is it so hard to spare. When God had taken care of creating us imperfectly perfect human beings, the least we can do is thank him.

I used to limit what i wish to ask from Allah in my prayers, until i found out, Allah does not limit how much we want to wish. He is not a genie who gives only 3 wishes. We can wish as many as we want, ask Him for help and forgiveness, and turn to him in our time of need or when we simply want to say thank you. God always listen to what we ask for, just sometimes the answer is no...

so, what a prayer is worth~ its worth a miracle..........