Colours of wild canaries

 I need to repaint the interior of my restaurant. I need a colour that is bright and cheerful. When I
bought over the business, the previous proprietor had the shop painted in two contrasting colours. Rusted red and egg yolk yellow. Then I was in love with the colours. I found it rustic but the problem with it, was the people identified it with the previous proprietor. No, no, not good for me. I need my 'brand', my own colours for the restaurant. I sat in my restaurant for days looking up and around thinking and imagining the colours. I played with colours on a drawing block. I matched the colour pencils in pairs and threes. I tried remembering the things that I love during my growing years. I love the sea, hills, waterfalls, forests, sky, birds and many more. Birds, oh yes, the canaries.


When I was 9 years old staying in Johor Bahru, we had canaries as pets. My father built a birdhouse using wire mesh and pieces of wood. I watched father built the birdhouse, helping him with the nails and hammer. Eagerly giving him a hand when needed. It was on stilts about three feet above the ground. Rectangular in shape with a small swing and pieces of branches in it for the birds to perch. I was given the duty to clean the birds and their house. I dutifully cleaned the bowls and filled them with birdseeds and water. I enjoyed spraying the birds with water. The canaries were green and yellow......The colours of wild canaries became the new colours for the restaurant. The canaries that reminded me so much of my childhood. The canaries that reminded me of my father's talent with wood work. The canaries that gave me so much joy taking care of them. The yellow and green gives so much energy and calmness to the restaurant. My customers find the colours very refreshing.....

Now when sitting at my table in my restaurant sipping my drinks or reading, I would occasionally gaze around the shop. Gazing at the colours brought back pictures of my days at that moment. It is like a movie. The fun father and  I had together building the birdhouse. The three tier stilts ( tangga ayam ) father made for mother's many pots of plants. The big bush of pink roses I adored very much. Father hung a hammock made from raffia on the only tree, a pink frangipani in the compound. I would laze in the hammock in the noons because that was the only time possible. My brother and sister would be having their naps then. Once a week I brushed the drains clean. The house came with a big compound. Father has green fingers, the garden was filled with hedges of shrubs as borders, rows of daisies, morning glory on the fence, tomato, chilli plants. There were more which I do not know the names....The green and yellow colours of the canaries is part of me.    

Sepak Raga and Non Kilat

My father played Sepak Raga during his young days. Sepak Raga is a Malay traditional game played with a rattan ball. It could be played in a circle of three or more persons, passing the rattan ball using the legs. The rattan ball is bounced on the inner side of the ankle with the leg bended before the ball is passed to another person positioned opposite. Sometimes the ball is headed among the players. This is when the game is played in non serious manner. Sepak Raga is commonly played in the 'kampongs' ( villages ) in the evenings. The young men and teenagers would gather in open spaces to play Sepak Raga.  In a competition Sepak Raga is played in a team of three persons. Each team will be on either sides of the net. The court is similar to that of badminton. My father played Sepak Raga and he was good. He played 'tekong' the person standing in the middle between two players. They are positioned in a triangle with the other two players near the net. Father would 'lipat' ( kick ) the ball towards the opponent when served by his teamate. Most of his kicks would kill the opponents and collected points for the team. His kicks were strong, fast and targeted direct to the opponents. They could not returned the kicks. So fast were his kicks that Father was nicknamed ' Non Kilat',  ( lightning Non )  Father's name is Zainal Abidin Mohamad Arabee. In Penang Non is shortform for Zainal. Zainal, short is Nal and with a local dialect becamed Non. Father played for the Penang Team during his good times. Later when Father joined the Navy, he was the captain for the Navy Sepak Raga team. Father was in the Penang team during the 'Piala Emas Khir Johari' tournament. The first ' Piala Emas Khir Johari ' tournament was played in Stadium Negara in Kuala Lumpur in the year 1962. Penang won against Singapore. Father told me that his teamates were Talib Mat Isa and another whom I cannot recall his name. I am unable to ask Father because at this very moment ( 2344 hours 10/10/2012 ), Father is recuperating in PPUKM ( Perbadanan Perubatan Universiti Kebangsaan Malaysia ). Only hours ago Father had a major surgery. The surgery took 9 hours. Father suffered IPMN ( intraducter papillary mucinous neoplasm). Father is now 77 years old and I still remember him in his sports attire when he played with the Navy team. I was about 3 or maybe 4 years old then. Father looked handsome in his white shirt and shorts with knee high socks. My prayers Father recovers well. Father, you have many more stories to tell me. I am looking forward to those moments........

Father receiving the tournament cup Piala Emas Khir Johari
from Malaysia's first Prime Minister Tunku Abdul Rahman -1962

Friendly birds

Friendly birds or maybe I am friendly to the birds. 'Gembala kerbau' is the name of a species of a bird in the malay language. My apologies for not knowing the name of that bird in the english language. These birds are mostly found near rice paddy fields. The buffalo is their favourite hound. 'Gembala kerbau' literally means buffalo shepherd. Their size is between that of a sparrow and a pigeon. Dark greyish feathers with a small black strip on their head.....During my college days, every morning the birds would come to feed on my room window ledge. I would keep leftovers for them. After sometime I noticed from the group of birds, one particular bird would stay behind. To my surprise it too would the first to emerge on the ledge every morning chirping as if it was greeting me. This went on for quite sometime and we soon became friends. I fed the bird any leftovers but if I have none I would give it biscuits or cornflakes or oats, my cereals. As I prepared to go to class the bird, hopping on the ledge would chirp merrily, and I talked to it. One morning my next room neighbour came to my room. She was curious and asked me who was I talking to in the mornings. I told her to look outside and I introduced her to my little bird friend. She was so amused.......After graduating I went back to stay with my parents. There I made friends with 'Togel' a name I gave to a bird. Togel means hairless, this bird had no feathers on its head. Togel would not join the other birds maybe because it is the odd one and felt different. Togel never went far from the window ledge of my kitchen. Togel was tame that it ate from my hand. I told Togel, 'you can stay on the ledge provided you do not dirty it with your shit.'.Believe me if I say that cute little bird understood. Togel slept on the ledge. For Togel's comfort I placed a small basket with  cloth remnants. .....Now I still feed the birds. Bread, rice, biscuits leftovers from the kitchen. In the morning, from the balcony scattering the leftovers onto the rooftop, I would call out to the birds, 'breakfast, breakfast, breakfast, come on breakfast breakfast.' Pigeons, sparrows, very few crows, a couple of small yellow birds and the 'gembala kerbau' nesting in the trees in the vicinity flies down to feed. I told them what I told Togel, 'I feed all of you birds, do not dirty my place.' My balcony is clean of their shit!.........I still talk to the birds.

Kuliah Di Masjid TAR, Ampang..21 hb September 2012.

Kuliah di sampaikan olih uztaz Syed Salleh Al Jefri dari Solo, Indonesia. Seperti biasa kuliah di mulakan dengan doa. Saya agak lewat sepuluh minit dari waktu yang ditetapkan kuliah bermula. Alhamdulillah di masjid ini ramai jemaah yang hadir untuk pengajian yang di sampaikan olih beberapa uztaz yang berwibawa dan amat amat dalam ilmu agamanya. Uztaz membuka tajuk hari itu dengan kata kata, 'Allah amat amat menyayangi kita, hambaNya. Bukti Dia menyayangi hambaNya adalah Dia memberi segala nikmat di dunia. NIkmat yang banyak tiada terhitung. Contohnya mata. Di mata sahaja tidak dapat kita membayangkan nikmat yang dapat kita perolehi. Dengan mata kita dapat melihat wajah ibu ayah yang menyayangi kita. Dengan mata juga dapat kita mengenal keindahan alam dengan segala warna , bentuk berbagai rupa. Makanan dan minuman yang memberi kita tenaga untuk menjalani seharian kita. Dari situ Allah jadikan susu agar ibu dapat menyusu bayi bayi mereka. Susu yang lengkap dengan gizi, antibodi yang membantu tumbesaran sihat setiap bayi. Dengan penyusuan itu juga membuah ikatan kasih antara ibu dan anak yang lebih kukuh. Setiap ibu akan mengatakan menyusu bayi mereka itu juga adalah satu nikmat...Tapi ada kala perkara yang sangat kita inginkan tidak di beri Allah kepada kita atas sifat kasihNya. Sebab Dia maha mengetahui perkara itu bahaya buat kita. Mari kita teliti akan hal berikut. Seorang anak kecil terlihat sebilah pisau dimana anak kecil itu pernah melihat ibunya memotong sayur. Di dalam minda anak kecil itu dia ingin meniru perbuatan ibunya. Lalu diambil pisau itu dan segenggam pucuk pucuk daun yang di petik di laman. Anak tadi memotong motong daun daun dengan gembira. Anak kecil itu tidak tahu yang perbuatannya itu akan membawa padah . Ibu pada anak kecil itu telah nampak. Lumrah Ibu akan menjaga anaknya dari bahaya. Dengan perlahan ibu itu menghampiri anaknya dari belakang agar anaknya tidak terkejut. Dengan teliti ibu itu mengambil pisau tadi dari tangan anaknya. Anak terus menangis minta dipulangkan pisau itu. Tapi adakah ibu itu memberi walaupun anaknya menangis? Ya, tidak, ibu itu tidak memberi pisau kembali pada anaknya sebab dia tahu pisau ditangan anaknya akan membawa bencana pada anaknya. Ibu  bertindak demikian atas dasar kasihnya pada anaknya. Begitu juga Allah. Dia tidak menunaikan sebahagian keinginan dan kemahuaan hambaNya sebab Dia sayang pada hamba hambaNya. Allah tidak mahu hambaNya kelak mendapat bahaya Kalau pisau itu mainan anak kecil itu, permainan hamba yang dewasa adalah pekerjaan, harta benda, wang ringgit, pangkat,anak, isteri, suami, kebun, ladang, emas permata, kenderaan, binatang tunggangan.............Pada zaman Rasulullah s.a.w. berlaku peperangan. Terdapat beberapa buah khemah di kawasan berlakunya perang. Di dalam satu antara khemah itu seorang ibu dan bayinya. Dalam gopoh ibu hendak melarikan diri dia mencapai selimut di sebelah dirinya terus lari semahu mahu kakinya dapat berlari. Setiba di sebuah kawasan yang selamat alangkah terkejut ibu bila mendapati bungkusan selimut itu tiada bayinya. Ibu itu meraung menangis sekuat kuat hatinya sebab dia percaya bayinya pasti mati di henyak kaki kaki kuda yang ditunggangi. Selesai perang Rasulullah s.a.w. telah memeriksa setiap khemah dan baginda menjumpai bayi itu. Baginda telah mengambil bayi itu. Dengan bayi itu dalam pelukan, Rasulullah s.a.w.telah bertanya adakah sesiapa yang kehilangan bayi. Sahabat sahabat Nabi  memandang antara satu sama lain mengelengkan kepala. Ibu tadi yang jauh di belakang telah dengar laungan suara Nabi. Ibu itu terus berlari kehadapan sambil berteriak, mungkin bayi itu bayi dia. Setiba dia di kelompok sahabat sahabat Nabi ditolaknya mereka ketepi supaya dia dapat melihat bayi yang dalam pelukan Rasulullah.s.a.w. Didapati bayi itu adalah anaknya yang disangka sudah mati. Ibu itu mendapatkan bayinya, terisak isak ibu itu mendakap mencium bayinya sepuas hati. Semua yang ada di situ amat terharu dan hiba. Ada yang menitiskan airmata. Rasulullah s.a.w. berkata, fahamilah wahai sahabat sahabatKu bahawa kasih Allah pada hambaNya 700kali lipat ganda dari kasih ibu itu pada bayinya............Bersangka baik pada Allah dan jangan sekali bersangka buruk pada Allah.

We need a toys-box

After the picture book Nadiah and I did together, we embarked on another project. I believed getting my daughter involved in these crafts projects would enhance her intelligence. The step by step process of finishing the craft is an excellent learning stage for her. This time we did a box to accommodate her growing collection of toys. I made certain her toys were educational toys, those of 'playschool', 'fisher price', lego, lasy and many other building blocks and so forth. I also made 'batu serenban' for her to play, a traditional game which trains one's coordination skills. One needs to be fast with one's eyes, fingers and hands. 'Batu serenban', can be played with small pebbles but often it is made from pieces of cloth sewn into a pyramid shape. The small pyramid pouches are filled with tiny beans. The game comes in a set of five or seven small pyramid pouches. When Nadiah attended primary school she had me made the 'batu serenban' for her friends. I am off track. I am suppose to be writing about the toys-box. This time I used a washing machine box. A rectangular box about two feet in width and three feet in length. I cut it to the height of two feet. The box was wrapped with multilayers of thick brown papers. The reason for doing so is to give the box additional strength making it strong and sturdy. My daughter had the task of pasting cut pictures round the outer side of the box. She was happy to have a big box of her own to keep her toys. I am much happier because there is less mess around the house. Sometimes Nadiah would empty the box,climbed into it making it her castle. Children and their imagination never fail to amaze oneself. We placed the box in the living room and it became a conversation piece.

My First Picture Book

I collected a few used cardboard boxes. I would take those boxes from a sundry shop near my house. I had a project in mind. I wanted to make a picture book for Nadiah, my first born. Nadiah was about two years then. I thought a self made picture book would be an interesting craft to do. Besides that Nadiah would learn objects from the picture book. Together both Nadiah and me browsed through magazines cutting pictures for our craft. We picked pictures that are simple which Nadiah can easily identify. The boxes were cut into pieces of approximately nine inches on each side, making almost perfect squares. The cut pieces were then wrapped with brown papers. Once wrapped they were ready to have the cut pictures pasted onto. Nadiah helped with her deft fingers. Of course I did most of the job with her making all the mess. We managed to paste the pictures on both sides of ten pieces of squares. The almost done self made picture book were bound together. Using a thick needle and embroidery thread I sewed the pieces together. My daughter watched attentively. She shrieked with delight once she realized that her picture book was completed. Well almost completed, holding a red crayon in her hands I guided her to write on the front page 'My first Picture Book'. When Nadiah could write she wrote her name on the cover. Later, much later, when Nasihah, my third daughter learned to write, she canceled her older sister's name and wrote her name. The picture book is still with us and holds its place proudly among the many books that we have collected along the years.

I remember those eyes.

I was cradling my new born baby, not yet a day old, my third daughter when I heard  from a distance, chattering of a child. It was visiting hours in the hospital. They were voices I recognize very well. She was holding her grandma's, my mother's hand. My eldest was walking next to them, herself only a week away to turning six. In my second child's hand was her rag doll which  I named Ofi. The rag doll was mine. A dear friend gave it to me when I was in college. Ofi is older than her and she still has Ofi. Now Ofi keeps her warm in college. Yes, she is now in university pursuing a Law degree.
Nafisah had just turned two years old when I presented her with a little sister. Months before that we pondered on the names for the unborn baby. Nadiah my first born decided on the name Nasihah. Eager as she was to see her little sister, Nafisah was quite hesitant not knowing what to expect. As she approached I saw those eyes, huge, round, black, inquisitive. The image so vivid until now. Nafisah was wearing a pink plain and checked three tier dress. Same color as Ofi's. Bubblegummers shoes with lace white socks. Her  straight hair was kept in the china doll style. The fringes was just above her eyes covering her eyebrows. She looked like a doll herself. Her round black eyes eyed the moving bundle in my arms. Her curious eyes locked on Nasihah. She slowly moved forward and touched her little sister. It was a sight to behold. Then all the questions flowed from her, why is the baby this, why is the baby that, why does the baby do that, why does the baby do this, why does the baby cry???????..she had so many questions and insisted on the answers. There I was, still tired after childbirth entertaining her with the answers. Nafisah's growing years are full with questions, a very inquisitive child. A very intelligent child.
Those eyes, lovely eyes. God bestowed her a pair of beautiful eyes. There are moments in your childrens' life that stays with you. Mine are many. With Nafisah, when I see her, her eyes, I remember that evening when she came to visit her baby sister and me at the hospital. The rag doll in her hand, the other holding her grandma....