Missing My Little Whistle

My Whistle,

It has been about 12 days since you crossed the Rainbow Bridge. I would sit near your grave every morning without fail. I see the graves of your other brothers and sisters too. You have Snowy, Dexie, Domino next to you…among others. I am sure Atuk is looking over you as well.

I miss feeding you with your bottle every night when you would make that cute tiny sound. I miss watching you playing hide and seek with Blackie and Marcus. I miss watching you preening yourself and falling asleep on the sofa.

I wont see you grow big and strong like Amadeus, Ken, Bubbles, Juneu, Rexton or the other brothers and sisters.

Rest in peace, my baby. Mama misses you deeply much.



When The Rain Falls……..

My furkids are not so keen in getting wet in the rain, neither do they want to do anything else but sleep.

And sleep they did.

These pictures were taken a few days ago. I was working from home, trying desperately to finish off a deadline. It rained heavily.

The kids decided the best place to sleep was near mom.

Zeus decided that the best pillow in the world was my wrists. There I was clanking away on the netbook, and his head went bobbing as well.

Jane was doing her cute thing. Looking comfortable near her brothers.

Parenting Teenager 101 – Take Away The Laptop

I saw this You Tube on a friend’s page about a frustrated dad on his 15 year old teenager. I know how he feels and I know exactly why he did what he did. I think if this happens to a Malaysian family, this kid will face the cane or worse still booted out from the house. Some kids, as much as being loved and cared for has this strange brain whenever they think. They think life is tough because they have to come back home by 10pm, set the table for meals, having to wash the dishes, go for religious classes, sweep the floors, make up their bed, or parents dont want to buy the Iphone for them.

Kids, try slogging your asses off by working 5 days a week (or maybe more), having to face office politics, paying mortgage, the car, Astro (for your viewing pleasure), credit card, paying insurance, worrying about your studies, cook you healthy food (which is costly) so that you can grow big and strong, your school, saving for your college/university, thinking about your future in case the parents kick the bucket in the next hour…the list goes on and on.

And you think making coffee is hard work?

I feel like smacking somebody’s kid. I really do.


Athena And Fluffy


Remember Cik Nah’s best laksam?

You see, each time I go there to have either my laksam or nasi kerabu, I would sit on this stool while waiting for Siti to prepare my makan. There is usually this kitty who would come from some place and play, or just watch me eat. There was one time when we didnt see her for a while. When we finally saw her again, she was skinny with swollen tits, indicating that she had given birth and her kittens were not suckling. We tried to look for any indication of kittens but there was none.

I ate my laksam that morning and as she usual did, she slept on my lap. Her burnt orange shade of her fur was beautiful. Her pink nose was wet. She looked contend.

I told Siti that by the time I finished off my laksam and she was still on my lap, I would take her home.

I finished my laksam. She was still sleeping like a baby, infact she even stretched a little.

Yeap, she went home with me that day.

I named her Athena, from the Greek’s Goddess Of Wisdom. She is such a lovely girl with even temperament. No fleas infestation when I found her. Look at that pink nose and paw paw. Fine fur is still growing on her tummy after her snip snip.


As I was driving out passing the guard house to the housing area with The Daughter sometime last week, I saw one of the guards holding a tiny kitten and was putting it away to the other side of the busy inter section.

I stopped the car and asked him who does the kitten belongs to? He said, it was a stray. I came down, asked a few people there, including an Indian lady who found the kitten near the entrance whether she wanted to keep the kitten. Everyone didnt want her.

Hmmm…the decision was quite clear. I couldnt let the tiny kitten on the street. She wouldnt be able to survive the days without food and shelter. She looked pitiful with the skinny body and sick eyes.

We decided to bring her home to feed her.

Nyom! Nyom! Nyom! She ate like a Tasmanian Devil. Poor baby.

The Daughter named her Fluffy. At first I wanted to put her up for adoption but since The Daughter is moving to her own place by end of the month, she wanted the kitten. She named her Fluffy.

Will take her to visit the vet in the next few days to check on her health, deworming and vaccination. She looks alright for now, and her eyes are getting better after some eye ointment treatment.

Best Laksam In Klang Valley

I have been frequenting Che Nah’s mobile stall for AGES. Could have been since 1991 and I have seen how she started with a simple mobile stall, then moved to a restaurant, then it closed down before she kick start her business again from a mobile stall. Nowaways, she will be stationed in Bukit Damansara and her daughter, Siti Khadijah manages the other mobile stall in Taman Tun Dr Ismail.

Still wondering what do these mobile stalls sell?

They sell the most awesome nasi kerabu and laksam in this part of the world! The kerabu (mixed veges) is a mix of at least 10 types of herbs and vegetable. Their fragrant, wholesome nasi kerabu is the purple rice variety instead of the white variety- a result of special natural colouring derived from a type of flower called bunga telang.

The laksam makes its entrance only on Thursdays to Sundays. Soft, delicious rolled steamed rice flour mingles with nice, thick, fragrant fish-based gravy. It is loaded with all the goodness of fresh fish and to top this special dish is a heap of kerabu.

I usually add some other type of meat such as fried beef with shallots and chilis or fried lung with chilis to provide the dish with extra umphh! Add a few dash of budu (fermented fish sauce) with a side of keropok (fish crackers), I would be halfway to Dream Land.

The mobile stall that I frequent is located at a junction fronting the Guardian pharmacy in Taman Tun Dr Ismail. Siti will be there from 7 am to 10 am, every day, unless she decided to take her leave for a few days break with the family. She is assisted by a helper – Puteri- who knows how to make my Nescafe O the way I like it.

This picture was taken around 10 am a few days ago. Most of her dishes were gone by then. Regulars throng to her stall from 7 am and keeps a steady stream until 10 am. She doesnt have table to serve her wares. Either you tapau (take away) or you sit on the limited number of stools and eat while enjoying the morning crowd passes by.

The Man Who Shall Remain Nameless

Dear Mr The Man Who Shall Remain Nameless

I read your blog and FB every day. I hate reading them actually but I have to because, you see, I am a troll. A troll because I wanted to make sure that whatever you write about me will be captured in my print screen.

So that my lawyers will see it and add them up to the file which is already sky high thick.

I also hate the ten gadzillion typo errors you made. I wonder whether the keyboard is faulty or your fingers are? Your language structure sucks. SUCKS BAD TIME. Each time I read your postings I almost cry. THEY SUCK!

No wait. I did cry. I cried reading all the stupidities that you wrote. The obscene words, the whore  and bastard name-calling. I cried because I was amazed that there is such person as you living on this earth.

Each time you call someone a whore or stupid, I count them in my book. I would love to call you names too but there are no dictionaries in the world that can describe the words that I really want to call you.

In fact, not only that I want to call you names, but I would love to meet you face to face and show you how I really feel. If there are no laws in Malaysia, I would have been the most creative person to show you how I really feel.

Dear Mr The Man Who Shall Remain Nameless,

For the moment, I just wanted to tell you that I hate you. Very much. Truly much. I hate the way you write, the way you write your ideas and thoughts in your brain (is there brain up there? Hello…? I can almost hear echos…..), the smug look on your face, the pictures of your dirty home, the righteous words that sprouted from your mouth.


Just wait and see when justice prevails when you will run out of hair to sell to pay for my lawyers’ fees and my lawsuit.

Oh. By the way? You just love posting in every chat room and forums about how you hate the life in Malaysia. You said that the Government sucks because they don’t want to help you. You said that life in other countries are better. That their policies are better.

Hello? Not happy? Please make your way to the National Registration Department of Malaysia, renounce your citizenship and ship yourself out to elsewhere.

See where else in the world where you are not dragged into jail for calling the Prime Minister’s wife a whore. Thank the lucky stars too that the ISA act has been abolished. This is the same guy whose wife you had called a whore.


My Husband Loves Me So Much That He Flies MAS

Airfare war is a real bitch especially when you want to get to Point A to Point B in a huff and planning is done like….in a couple of days only. You get Air Asia, MAS or Fire Fly competing for your ringgit when you fly local.

Anyways, back to the story of my husband.

Friday night. I picked him and his work colleague from his office around 10.30pm as he was working late for a project. Told me that he needs to be back to the office the next day to complete his work.

Ok, I said. I know he has been working hard for many weeks due to several projects he is on.

“But”, he said, “I need to leave very early, around 6.30 am.”

Wow, so early, I thought. But never mind, maybe he needs to complete whatever he is doing by a certain hour the next day.

And so, the next day which was on a Saturday, he was picked up by his work colleague at 6.30 am. I, on the other hand, drove out from the house around 8.30am for a 9.00 am meeting in Setiawangsa.

By 1.30pm I texted him, asking whether could he join me for lunch. He said, “Nope, work still not done.”

And then…around 2.00 pm my dearest husband called.

“Are you at home?” He asked. “Nope, still out”, I said.

“Owh. When you go back home, can you get the phone number for the jewellery shop that we went to in Kuala Terengganu last month?”

“Err…why?” I asked, curious.

“Well….there has been a change of plan. Guess where am I right now?”

“Are you not in the office?” I was getting more curious.

“I am sitting at the Kemaman Kopitiam in Kuala Terengganu……”


At this juncture, my mind thought that George is back in Uptown Area and, why is he in Uptown Area? (there is a Kemaman Kopitiam in Uptown, Damansara Utama)

“Err..no dear”. Husband said. “I am in KUALA TERENGGANU.”

“Why are you in Kuala Terengganu? How? Why? When?”

He said, he flew in the morning. With MAS…He wanted to get that jewellery that we both saw during our last month’s trip to the East Coast. But the surprise gift was not to be because the shop was closed!

I called the owner of this shop. She said, “Yeah, we are close for the day as I am in Kuala Lumpur for a conference”. I think I have somehow managed to make her feel bad for not opening the shop by telling her the story of my husband who flew in earlier to get me the surprise gift.

There goes the surprise my husband wanted to give me. I still couldnt believe he actually did what he did. He even flew MAS! I was speechless and promptly cried at the office of where I had my meeting. Luckily there was no one who saw that.

No one has ever did something as sweet (or crazy) as my George did. I must have done something right in my previous life to deserve a man like this.

Thank you my Husband. I love you very much.


Visit To A Hard Core Poor Single Mother’s House In Puchong

I was most humbled by the invitation received from a friend, Norasikin to visit this single mother of 3 who is hard-core poor and only lives with her cats. Puan N is an active member of a local Muslim single mother NGO.

All four of us ladies got together in a car and drove to Puchong. Now, when mentioned about Puchong, I get this edgy feeling and will try to stay away. This is simply because Puchong is big. You tend to get lost like a time wrap in that area. Every road looks the same. And signage is a big problem.

But the thought of visiting this poor lady make me pushed all that fear factors. Besides, I told Norasikin, I will hitch a ride from her.

We arrived at this block of shops. This lady lives in one of the apartment units above these shop houses. The area doesn’t really look dandy. The staircase didn’t look dandy. The corridors were long, dirty, dark and so lonely. No lift so we had to climb the staircase to the 3rd floor. I was heaving this heavy bag containing cat food.

I was told that this single mother – lets call her Puan N- is usually reluctant to meet anyone. A bit of a recluse, she tends to keep to herself. The only reason why we managed to arrange to go to her house was because one of the ladies told her that she has someone who wanted her to sew some clothes. You see, Puan N is well known for her sewing skills but she only deals with several boutiques somewhere in the city. She takes in orders to sew baju kurung or kebaya and charges some token some for her efforts.

When we arrived in front of her door, the sound of Hindustan movie was blaring from the inside of the apartment unit. It took us a few minutes before she came out to open the door.

When we stepped into the unit, I was taken aback. I never thought that there is such poverty still exists in the city. Being poor is bad enough but to be poor in the city is…. indescribable. You have absolutely no space to call your own but being confined in the unit you are in.

There are 2 rooms to the unit where she lives. The kitchen and bathroom were flooded with water that back-flowed from the faulty water outlet. The unit owner never pay her a visit, she said, even though she complaint about the issue. The two rooms were piled with old clothes and newspapers. Her living area was littered with more old clothes and a pull over bag. Three of her cats scampered away among the pile high newspapers. Her bed is this pulled sofa that had seen better days.

She herself did not eat anything since morning and so were her cats.

She welcomed us by spreading a mat on the floor and we sat. I had to make sure that the windows were opened as the smell from the back water coupled with old newspapers and some rubbish were quite overwhelming to my senses. Plus, I think her cats had created their poo box among the old newspapers too as I didn’t see any poo box anywhere.

We stayed for about three hours. Misha, the officer from the Jabatan Pembangunan Wanita  came too with a promise to come back and get some forms filled and to get Puan N some further assistance to relocate to a better place. A job as a sewing instructor for a community initiatives might be in the pipeline as well.

This lady has a lot of unsaid sadness about her. We managed to probe some background info about her. She was from the north and had been in the city for a long time. She was working down south as well but decided that Kuala Lumpur would offer her a better living.

I took a look at her cats. They were sick and one was with quite a bad mange. I offered to take care of the neutering and medical when she moves to a new place.

We went back that day with plenty of thoughts playing in our heads. It was a real eye opener, at least for me.

One of the cats.

Us ladies posing after the visit.