A letter from Fiorella

A few years ago while in Switzerland I received a rather soiled and and crumpled envelope in my mail. The chop indicated it was posted many months before from Italy. It must have gone astray and finally found its destination (I won't comment on the infamous Italian mail!).

The letter was from a young lady named Fiorella de Natale. She was the only child of Antonio, whom I recruited as our office guard in Rome in 1982. Fiorella wrote that she had finished her studies and was understudying to be a lawyer, and that her mother often spoke about me and that I was kind to her family and often visited and had meals with them.

I then remembered that some years earlier I had received a letter from her mother Maria-Antonietta, sadly announcing Antonio's death and enclosing a black and white portrait photo of Antonio and a prayer.

I was touched to be remembered out of the blues by this young lady who I only knew as a child. She left a phone number and I called but only managed to speak to her mother. We had a good, long chat (my rusty Italian came flurrying back and I knew I made a million grammar mistakes!) and it was such a warm feeling to reconnect with Maria-Antonietta.

Antonio married Maria-Antonietta, his childhood sweetheart a few months after I recruited him. I was invited to the very elegant wedding in one of Rome's oldest churches in Nomentana quite close to our office. They were a very handsome couple and despite our stations we became close and I was often invited to Maria-Antonietta's family home in Mentana, outside Rome for long summer lunches and dinners. These occasions in their villa overlooking a beautiful valley of vineyards were always pleasant and wonderful. Her parents were warm and generous, father Signor Neri was very handsome and aristocratic and Signora Neri cheerful and motherly and an excellent cook, (ooo all those home-made egg pastas drooling with mushroom or artichoke sauce...and she would also proudly show me the hand-sewn dresses she was making for the Laura Biagiotti fashion house!).

Later Antonio and Maria-Antonietta built their own house across the road from her father's and they had a child they named Fiorella (little flower). I was invited to meet the new-born and I watched the child grew, a precious gem for the doting grandparents.

I left that wonderful eternal city of Rome in Summer 1985 after a 52 months of incredibly wonderful and dizzy stay (I USED to say it was the best place I ever lived in and the happiest time of my life BUT I am more philosophical about it now). But I would return to it at least once a year for a holiday for several years after that. Antonio left our office after I left and got a job in a government ministry. He somehow did not fit in as a guard and the other guards and Italian staff would refer to him as 'Il signor' (the gentleman) because of his elegant look and demeanour.

During these annual visits of mine Antonio would always ensure I visited their family and have a meal at the family villa. I think it was while I was in Peru that I received Maria-Antonietta's announcement of Antonio's sadly early departure. May he rest in peace.

I wonder when I'll get another surprise letter from the 'Little Flower'.....

A new door opens

The days have breezed by and all too soon I am almost four months home. The dusts have settled again and I have put most things in order, my house, my finances and other things all in place. It had been a very busy time but as things slowed down I sometimes entertain thoughts if I would become bored or useless. But like I wrote in my "Farewell Switzerland" entry, when one door closed another one always opens. Well, Alhamdullilah another wonderful door is about to open for me very soon!

InshaAllah.

Stay tuned!

Remembering mother

Beloved mother passed away some three and half years ago while I was still in Switzerland. I came home a day after the funeral and only managed to see her still-fresh grave and partake in the tahlils (recitation of prayers) the next few nights. I don't think a day ever passed without me thinking of mother and saying a prayer for her thereafter....

Mother died at the age of eighty six, in her own home, bedridden for some six years but still very much in command of her home and destiny, with the assistance and care of ever-loyal, patient and efficient Marti. I would go home and visit her once a month for a few days. I would sit by her bed and talk to her, tell her about things happening in the family, gently massage her forehead and the side of her head which she liked, or just sat there reading my books or papers, or texting my messages. She was happy to just have me around for that short period. She did not say much but would sometimes surprise me with remarks or questions about things from like twenty five years ago! I always made sure I bring her a gift, however small and insignificant and this pleased her very much and she showed it. And when it was time for me to leave she would insist that Mar prop her up on her bed so she could sit and watch me driving away from her bedroom window..... Always with a prayer for my well-being and safe delivery.

I miss mother very much but I am content with the belief that I had been a good son to her and had received her love and blessings till her very last day. In my young days I was rebellious and must have been difficult and tiresome as only a youngster could be. I was the last among my siblings to leave home at age 20 when I entered University as I was not allowed to go to boarding school (pampered last child everyone must have concluded!). I remember a rather difficult period when mother would find every fault with me and I would feel miserable, hurt and unloved and found solace only by pouring it all out in my diary! Years later I finally understood that it must have been a menopausal period for her and I was a sort of punching bag for all the anger and frustrations at things she did not understand happening to her then.

Mother was a strong person and was very much in command. It could not have been easy bringing up six children and being conveyor to father for all his siblings and relatives as father was the eldest remaining member of his family and he was not a man of many words. But mother handled it all well, and she was well-respected by father's relatives - they come to her for everything, and she would always make sure father settle whatever issue that was at hand! She was also financially savvy, we were never short of anything and our house was constantly filled with stay-in visiting relatives and there were plentiful food all the time. She was always doing some small businesses which augmented the family income, like making her famous 'halwa maskat' (which took four hours of laborious stirring over slow charcoal fire), and huge earthen pots of 'acar buah' (fruit chutney). I was often sent to deliver the orders to her customers and would get a tip for my errand! She taught me well - at the age of 11 when I was in Standard 5, she gave me a monthly allowance of RM5 and told me to manage it, no more daily pocket money henceforth. And I did, rather well too (to this day I must say), also thanks to the generosity of more independent elder siblings.

My beloved, dear mother was not necessarily easy, she had a strong mind of her own. She was extremely generous, always giving, and considerate and so perceptive, and very loving in ways I could not understand then as a youngster. It was thus such a sad development when at the later stage of her life she stopped being the active, commanding person that she was and became so totally dependent on others. I could write a book about mother, but the memories best remain in my thought.

Some years back, my three brothers and I visited an ustaz to get his advice what we could do to help lessen mother's suffering in her bed-ridden condition. At the end of of the consultation I asked the ustaz about a regular recurring dream I had. I often dreamt that mother hated me and would do things to hurt me and make me cry. The ustaz only smiled rather knowingly without saying anything, while two of my brothers rather in a fondly snickering tone said something to the effect that it was precisely because I was mother's favourite son, and that the meaning of dreams was always in the reverse. Only Allah knows!

May the Almighty Allah always bestows his blessings on my beloved mother and father. Amin.
I love you both always.....

For Mother's Day - IBU

Ibu,
Kasihmu indah berseri bagaikan pelangi
Sayangmu sesuci embun di pagi hari
Dakapan eratmu hangat bak mentari yang menyinari bumi
Sejati pengorbananmu seharum ambar kasturi
Yang menusuk kedalam sanubari

Ibu,
Semangat wajamu kami kagumi
Sehebat halilintar membelah bumi
Penat, letih, bosan dan jemu
Tiada terukir dalam dirimu
Tak pernah mengalah walau seinci
Tujuanmu hanya kesatu destinasi

Ayah pergi meyahut seruan Illahi
Meninggalkan ibu bersendiri....

Tapi ibu,
Kau bertekad menterai janji
Membesarkan anak anak mu yang kecil lagi
Demi masa depan kami
Kau memeras sepenuh kudrat, urat dan sendi
Sehingga kelihatan percikan keringat di dahi
Kau hanya merendam sebak di hati

Ibu,
Walau seribu badai dan taufan melanda
Kau tempuhi gelora dengan hati rela
Kau gigih berusaha
Kau pendam duka nestapa
Dibibirmu mengukir senyum tawa
Kau tak pedulikan sesiapa
Tak menoleh kebelakang
Siang malam kau terus berjuang

Pada saat raut wajahmu dimamah usia
Kau tersenyum merasa lega
Kerana di ketika itu kesemua anak anakmu sudah berkeluarga
Sudah boleh berpijak sendiri di bumi nyata

Ibu,
Perjuanganmu kami sanjungi
Pemergianmu kami ratapi
Doa buat mu sentiasa mengiringi
Semoga roh mu sentiasa di rahmati
Dan di tempatkan bersama sama insan insan suci

Kenangan bersamamu dihati kami kekal abadi
Semoga Allah mengampuni segala dosa ibu bapa kami
Dan sesungguh nya ibu,
Kaulah serikandi kebahagian kami

By,
Ridzwani Abdul Samad
for Allahyarhamah cousin NENG ABDUL RAHMAN

Khadijah Ibrahim- A Lifetime Achievement Award

Khadijah Ibrahim was given a Lifetime Achievement Award by Berita Harian and TV3 at their recent annual award event. Congratulations Datuk! Wow, after only over 30 years in the business! I wonder what Sharifah Aini think of this - she's been in the industry much longer than that and had received many awards and accolades but I do not remember her ever getting a 'lifetime achievement' award. Khadijah is probably the first recipient of such an award.

Anyway, all praises to where they are due. Khadijah Ibrahim is in fact a great singer and entertainer with a very pleasant personality and a very acute business acumen. She had always been consistent and she's one lady with brains. And she really can cook!

I first heard Khadijah's voice in 1978 at the then Jaya Puri Hotel (today the PJ Hilton) when she was at a very tender age performing at a dinner show, after the release of her first album. I was straightaway impressed by her singing and her voice.

I got to personally know Khadijah in 2003 when she was invited to sing the NAM theme song at the opening of the Conference. I was asked to oversee the rehearsal of that event and I made a few suggestions to her and the choir accompanying her. She later approached me when I was heading the OIC Conference Secretariat for some form of participation but there was nothing relevant for her.

She once invited me to dinner at her apartment at Setiawangsa, and my God what a dinner it was! I swear there were more than 20 dishes lined up in two rows on her dining table - all cooked by her. And there was only me and Harris, our staff from the New York office who was on home leave (she and Harris used to duet at shows in New York and apparently they wanted to set up a restaurant there but could not find a premise). She shrugged off my incredulity at the number of dishes and said she merely wanted me to sample her cooking! And I can vouch what a great cook she is! She even packed me a variety of cookies she made to take with me for my trip to Morocco and Tunisia the next day (I gave them to my colleague in Rabat and he was thrilled to know that they were made by the great singer!). While we were having dinner she received a phonecall and it was from her great singing partner Ramli Sarip. Their 1989 duet number ' Ku Miliki Bayanganmu' is my all-time favourite.

The last time I met Khadijah was in January 2007 when she led a powerful singing quartet consisting of herself, Ning Baizura, Syafinaz and Esther Khoo at the Gala Night of the 2007 World Economic Forum in Davos, Switzerland which Malaysia hosted. It was such a great performance by the foursome and Khadijah was in her elements interacting with the appreciative strong international crowd. Indeed they made Malaysia proud.

Once again, congratulations Datuk Khadijah Ibrahim! May you continue to shine in your illustrious career.
See video : http://youtu.be/ra13nkHckNE
                  http://youtu.be/fBnjBjZEe9w

Meniti Pelangi Mencari Mimpi

Sepanjang perjalanan meniti kehidupan
Kucari mimpi mimpi
Tak pernah ku temui
Umpama pengembara
Ku hadapi segalanya
Walau sering terkecewa

Sekali ku melangkah
Aku kan terus melangkah
Biar pun ku sedari
Ku meniti pelangi
Kerana keindahan warnanya mempesona
Kelabu pandangan mata

Lingkungan warna warna indah
Biar seketika
Pelangi di langit yang muram
Menasyikkan
Sejenak ku biarkan diri melayani hati
Mencari mimpi mimpi indah
Sia sia,
Seumpama pengembara
Terpedaya

Kerana mimpi
Hanya mimpi..... Driving home as it was getting dark a few days ago I heard this song from the 80s hauntingly sung by Azlina Aziz. I had always liked the song and the way Azlina sang it. And I had in the past thought the lyric beautiful and meaningful. But today on reflection, I think the message of the song is rather negative - threading on a rainbow seeking meaningless dreams which will never come true just as the rainbow will surely disappear.

Well I beg to disagree. A dream, however frivolous is the start of everything. I have fulfilled my dreams, not all but most. And I will still dreams on (or have ambition and entertain hope) and strive to achieve them. What is life without dreams and hopes . And after all, God is so great, you need to only ask Him, pray for it and work towards it and always be grateful for what you get, Insha Allah.
See video : http://youtu.be/dOhbRmdN1hs

Homecoming Prologue

Salam and greetings!
Thank you to those who urge me to continue blogging. I will do my best, it's difficult with no pc yet at home.

Twenty four days today since my final homecoming. I feel generally well though I am still trying to get used to the heat and humidity, the noise, the crowd and traffic. The last one week had been a pleasant respite from some of that due to the Chinese New Year holidays, though the weather had been exceptionally hot!

At this point I will say that I don't like Kuala Lumpur anymore! The far distances between places is such a bother for me. I hate all the disproportionate tall buildings, haphazardly popping out at every turn of your head. I hate the bumpy roads with bad, worn out surfacing and holes you find everywhere, even around so-called 5-star buildings and zones! I hate the disorderly state of things, rubbish by roadsides and buildings. And all those illegal advertisements being hung and posted everywhere, on lamp posts, walls, on street corners, on trees and even on road signs, everywhere! What are you doing about this Dewan Bandaraya Kuala Lumpur!!! And yet things seem to be normal by every one's standards but mine!

After the tranquil silence of Switzerland, the constant noise in KL is something I find hard to get used to. Fortunately where I live it is quiet except there is a renovation work of a house behind mine, and when the neighbour's dogs bark and when there are deliveries to houses around me. Then there are these 'migratory' birds that are currently on a long 'stopover' in this region that make this awful noise for long spells especially early in the morning and during some part of the day.

Alas, I am home. This is my country, my home where I belong. I must just get used to it all, Insha Allah.

On the plus side, I have been extremely well-received by family and friends, with non-stop series of dinners and lunches. And there are many still I have yet to contact and meet. And I must say that all the services I have availed myself to so far had been good, exceptionally good, better than I remember them to be. Must be the KPI thing the government is pushing so hard. Well done Malaysia!

Yet on the other hand it is hard to grasp the fact that most everywhere I went I was always served by a foreigner - Indonesian, Nepali, Bangladeshi, Mynmarese, Cambodian, Pakistani, Filipino, mainland Chinese, etc etc and the list goes on. Where do we go from here and where does it all end eventually!!! Are Malaysians are so spoiled, they can't do anything themselves anymore!

Yes I am home again in my beloved, somewhat extraordinary, rather overboard of a country where everything 'CAN' - Malaysia Boleh ma! I do wish that some things are 'TAK BOLEH' and Malaysians learn more from what are beyond our country's borders and our own mindsets.What a fortunate lot we Malaysians are to have so many good things that some other countries can only wish for. And that's the problem. We take things so for granted and along the way we lose some essential and important things.

Yes indeed, I am home and I will make the very best of my life here, syukur Alhamdullilah.