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Archive for the ‘religion’ Category

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Cry no more, dear Faris

In family, happiness, religion on February 25, 2012 at 12:04 pm

“We are all just pieces of clay.” A quote from my favorite poem, which helped carry me through some of the difficult periods in my life. To me, this is a good quote (and in a very humbling poem) which reminds you of a few things; (a) we were created by God (b) we are here temporarily living this life, and (c) one day to Him we shall all return.

A few deaths have occurred this last month, none within my circle of family or friends but known to me via social media and friends’ updates or retweets. A 30-year old steward who slipped and fell at the jetty at Pulau Perhentian, hit his head and drowned unconscious while on holiday. A colleague’s ex-schoolmate, 33 years old, who died in a motorcycling accident on the way home to see his wife and daughter after a game of futsal. A friend of a friend who had delivery complications which saw both the mother and baby battling for their life overnight in the ICU, only for the mom to lose her  child the next day. There are no words to describe the sadness. But my heart (and millions of other people’s) was touched particularly by Faris’s story, thanks to Bersama Mazidul blog.

Faris was a 6-year old happy and active boy, the youngest child of Sham and Zuraine (they have 2 other children, 13 and 10 years old) until he was diagnosed with blood cancer. On Mazidul’s blog, there is a picture of him when he was healthy and happy, smiling into the camera while propping up his head with his hands at a park. Another picture last week showed the stark realities of his suffering – full oxygen support, tubes and attachments clinging to his body, tears streaming down his face. Truly, only Allah knows best why these things happen, because it is beyond our weak human intellectual capabilities to make sense of. Truly, we are all just pieces of clay.

Two days ago Faris passed away. Pictures on the blog depict his mother sitting by his body, with her hands on his chest, talking to him. Another picture showed her outside the ward, crying softly while others surrounded her in consolation.  His sister’s card to him, praying for him, urging him to get well soon so they can ride in cars together and play badminton. His father, eyes dry, tired but tenang and pasrah. Pictures of the prayer session and pengebumian jenazah, tempat arwah disemadikan selama-lamanya.

He is the same age as my son Umar. It makes me think about the difference between the two boys, and the difference between my situation and Faris’s mother’s position. Why am I given the blessing of seeing my son in front of me, happy and healthy, Alhamdulillah, while hers has been taken away? It makes me realize that, indeed, all of us are properties from God and we are actually being loaned to this world. None of us have the right or the claim to a certain level of happiness, health and wealth. Whatever each and everyone of us have, is there due to the grace of God and nothing else. If He wished, we can all lose everything. Now. Tomorrow. Next year. Next 50 years. Wallahu’alam.

You are at a better place, dear Faris. Cry no more. Al-Fatihah.

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Big love

In culture, family, happiness, religion on October 4, 2011 at 7:37 am

I remember a friend at uni telling me her father’s ultimate warning, something he wanted her to stay away from the most. No, it wasn’t drugs, partying, free sex or alcohol. It was Malay, or rather Muslim men. (She’s not Malay, obviously). “Whatever you do, don’t marry them,” her father sternly instructed his only daughter. “They can have other wives, and up to four.”

I was aghast at hearing this but took a moment to digest before launching into my defense of my fellow brothers in jannah (Amin). “But it’s not something altogether that common,” I found myself saying weakly. As if I didn’t believe the official party line myself. “Moreover,” (Note: okayy, so I didn’t really use that word. But something along that line lah) “the Quran specifically states that if you want to marry other women, you have to remember all the risks and challenges that comes with it and decide if you can really be fair. If you fear you can’t, then you’re supposed to stick to one.”

“What about your Prophet?” she asked. “Oh, well, that’s different,” I hedged. “He was a very special man, very strong, pious and fair. That was a time of war and a lot of women were left as single mothers. The Prophet married mostly divorced or single mothers, to help set an example in society. The only virgin he married was Aisha and that was a family arrangement with the father.”

I felt like I had to provide more arguments and so I launched the final bullet, which I still believe to be very much true. “Plus, at least under Islam the other wives have rights. In other religions, the other women (and let’s not even pretend that this doesn’t happen!) will just be mistresses in all those affairs we see happen around us.”

During this time, I was still in my terkapai-kapai mencari laluan hidup phase and wasn’t at my life’s best, and hence was the last person in the world to give out religious advice, so I left it at that. And at that time, my own family had challenges and hence I was also not in the best position to provide affirmative evidence of a successful Muslim marriage. It wasn’t a time when I could say, “Look, my experience shows that our culture and religion really can produce a happy marriage and family” because I wasn’t 100% sure of that statement myself, as evidenced a few years later.

In the end I think she didn’t buy it. And she’s still single now, presumably by choice, although if you ask me the love of her life was really a Malay close friend she had in college. But she must have stuck to her father’s words pretty well as nothing really happened between them even when everyone around them could feel his love towards her. And again, if you ask me, if he had been her husband, he would never have married other women. But now we’ll never know.

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Remembering 9-11.. and what the message to us should be

In politics, religion, travel, unforgettable on September 13, 2011 at 12:14 am

What does 9/11, Michael Jackson, Lady Diana and Thomas Cup 1992 final have in common? That’s right, you would probably remember exactly where you were when you first heard what had happened during each of the events; same goes for me. I did not hear about the planes hitting the Twin Towers until I reached my 1-month old office (our family did not yet have Astro back in the day), being a fresh graduate at the time (actually not yet since my graduation was in October 2001). I remember sitting down in shock as I devoured the headlines on the office newspaper. And becoming very, very still.

My first thought was my aunt and uncle who live and work in NYC. I had visited them by myself in my final summer holiday as a university student and spent 2 blissful weeks exploring Manhattan and all its attractions. NYC was, and still is, my no.1 favourite city in the whole wide world (sorry other big cities of my life – KL, London and more recently Melbourne). I emailed them and heaved a sigh of relief upon discovering that they were Alhamdulillah alright. My next thought – if I was born a year later (even by 2 months) it may have been me in the Towers – since almost to the day, a year earlier, I was shopping in the WTC basement!

Much has been talked, thought and written about regarding the topic since that fateful day. Just like everyone else, I too am deeply shocked and saddened for the 3,000 lives lost. Yet I cannot help but wonder why nobody dares to discuss the underlying motive behind the attacks. Personally I believe it was related to Palestine, the struggle of Muslims who have not been given justice – as well as millions of people around the world who have died, directly or indirectly, from Western/colonial occupation. Why did they choose the date September 11th? Doesn’t anyone notice they were spelling out 9-1-1, which is a cry for help?

Yes, two wrongs do not make a right. It is wrong and sinful for the terrorists to target civilians, including women and children, especially when the attack was carried out cold-bloodedly during the day without warning, i.e. not during battle or war. But it does not mean that there was nothing occurring in the first place that could have caused the anger, the hatred and the determination to carry out these attacks that were designed to hit at the centre of Western capitalism and imperialism. It means there are people out there who are suffering, losing their homes and dying. And these people deserve to be given their justice too – if only there is voice out there speaking for them.

What I myself gather from the tragedy is this: yes, the world has changed, and terrorism (which should include all sorts – not just the so-called Muslim fundamentalist, but also any other religion or groups that carry out similar attacks on civilians) remains a worrying threat to peace and stability. But we Muslims must believe collectively that suicide attacks and terror activities will not solve the problem; it will only make the situation worse. We must be that voice speaking out into the world, showing that we can be the REAL muslims trying to behave like our dear Prophet – who was kind, gracious towards others (including his enemies), and yet a firm and just leader. Going to school, university and work, mixing with other races and religions, and yet practising the pillars of religious practices peacefully. If 2 billion Muslims can do this, the world can see true Islamic tenets and not those brought by the attackers.


The all-time question: which type of parenting is best?

In book, career, culture, family, religion on September 5, 2011 at 9:10 am

I came across the ‘Tiger Mom’ Amy Chua in a previous WSJ article earlier this year when I was still working in Melbourne. It seems as if the article nearly caused a collective heart attack across most of the Western parenting world. As soon as I saw a copy in a bookstore, I grabbed it and read it cover to cover in a few hours (it’s an easy read).

In a nutshell, Amy explains to her readers how Chinese mothers bring up their children, the traditional strict Chinese way – and how this in turn makes them develop into high performers better than the loving, individualism-nurturing Western method.

I believe any mother with school-going children (including pre-school going children like mine) would be interested to debate on this topic. Is the Tiger Mom method the best at producing the best adults? For sure, it results in children with significant classical music abilities (I still don’t really understand why the Chinese emphasize classical music – surely other areas can also distill excellence?) and straight As without fail (Amy is careful, though, not to bring up her girls into the robotic student types who “kill themselves as soon as they get an A-“ – Umm, that’s very considerate, Amy).

On the other hand, we are indeed seeing the beginning of the decline of Western civilization. You only have to read handful of the recent tweets on Twitter to understand this. American teenagers of this generation seem to have an innate inability to spell (confusing ‘you’re’ and ‘your’, for example) and lack basic discipline (get this: a t-shirt at JC Penney that reads ‘I’m too pretty for homework’.. ??!!).

I ponder over my own childhood and upbringing, which I consider to be in line with the middle-class Malay two-earner families in urban cities of Malaysia. Roughly categorizing it would put it in between the Chinese and Western model. My parents constantly put high expectations on grades and an all-rounded performance (co-curriculum, social skills, etc) but were pretty laid-back about how we went about achieving them. Just like most people, my mother was undoubtedly the biggest influence, advising us from which clubs to join, how to dress and walk (she still corrects our posture to this day) to the type of degree to read at university.

Alhamdulillah, all of us turned out well, although far from perfect and after we have acquired more than a few bumps on the road. All of us are working, all married, some with kids and are held up as decent people (only we know how much of this is true :P ). However we definitely are not musical prodigies, lawyers/doctors (Amy seems to think only those types of professions would do for her family), and were not even straight-A types in school. Would we be counted as “the losers”, as she constantly warned her children not to be? And what about people who don’t fit the traditional success definition – hardworking, decent people who are firefighters, cops, fishermen or even normal executives? Are they losers, too? I think not.

I also detect some things missing from her way of life (as she depicted in her book). There was no mention of any spirituality – perhaps as she hinted, she was not much of a believer in God. She did not talk about any domestic help, other than hiring a nurse for her mother in law when she was dying of leukemia. Was she somehow a superwoman who managed to lecture, give talks, teach her students, fly home to pick up her kids to and fro music lessons, and yet magically produce a clean home, laundry and food on the table?

In my opinion, there are both rights and wrongs in both the Chinese and Western model. Amy dismissed the kids who killed themselves over grade ‘failures’ – yet we all know this happens constantly in China as well as overseas Chinese (as well as other races, but I’m betting it’s a lower probability). The western world has more hugs and love to offer their kids relatively, but do indeed produce distracted kids in an increasingly Snooki-fied world.

With my lack of experience and wisdom at this moment, I still believe that the Malay/Muslim upbringing is good and sound as it provides a spiritual base for kids to develop into good, God-fearing adults. Yet the challenge is also to harness the other points of Islam such as excellence, cleanliness and discipline. That much, we Muslims still have to work on.

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Like, how great is the Ramadan and Syawal combo?

In culture, family, food, happiness, religion on August 29, 2011 at 12:44 am

If there’s one thing i know for sure in life, it’s that we have to always strive to keep everything in balance.

You know what i’m talking about. From retaining a bit of childhood to growing up, to the ever-elusive work hard-play hard maxim, to performing ibadat for the Afterlife yet achieving excellence in the current life, to ensuring your appearance is well-kept yet not to get too caught up in it… everyday, every challenge relates to this uncanny skill that seem natural to some, harder for others (like me).

Now that we are nearing the eve of Syawal and the end of Ramadan, I realise that there is really something great about the combination of the two beautiful months. Ramadan particularly is a month of fasting – not just from the obvious food and drink (and cigarettes, which apparently is even harder to give up for smokers) but also from all usual desires and bad habits. It is a time for giving, performing more intense rituals than usual, and discovering again your spiritual closeness to your Creator.

Syawal, starting from the wonderful Eid ul Fitri, seems to be the month for living it up. You celebrate the first day with special prayers, dressed in your best clothing (probably more cultural than religious) and surrounded by excellent food and company of your extended family. You ask for forgiveness from your parents, siblings, spouse, other family members and friends (and what a lovely practice that is). Heck, this continues for the rest of the month – where everybody’s in a good mood, bombarded by open house invitations and eat enough food to last a year.

We are way too small, weak and insignificant to really fully understand God’s blessings to us (or at least I am anyway), but I do believe that these two months are the most special period in the Muslim calendar for all of us. We are to learn discipline and control, and strive to come back to the core. Be reminded of the poor and less fortunate, and try help them out as much as we can. We hope that we are still around next year, to celebrate another beautiful round of the two months. And we hope year in, year out, it will make us stronger, happier, healthier – and better people.

This time last year I was working in Melbourne, helping to fund my husband’s studies and our life together with our son. It was difficult to be away from family (the last time celebrating Eid abroad was when I was 22 years old in the UK – and that was a whole different story altogether) and I laboured over my own home made beef rendang, but it was a great experience which I hope one day we can experience again (perhaps in Mecca).

But really, there’s nothing like celebrating the two beautiful and meaningful months at home, in the country where I was born, with my family and friends, fully immersed within the atmosphere. Being able to ask for forgiveness from my mom – who has really worked so hard for all us girls; from my siblings (this one tends to be easier, since we just kosong-kosong with each other); and of course my dear husband, who I know I have a lot to ask forgiveness from, and to be grateful for. I hope I can try and be a better daughter, sister, wife and mother for the next coming year and all the years to come. Insya Allah.

And for you, dear readers, hope you have a blessed Eid. Thanks for reading and appreciating; it means a lot to me, and I do apologize if I’ve ever written an offending word or two. See you after the holidays!

When it all feels so helpless

In money, religion, unforgettable on August 18, 2011 at 9:45 am

After staying up after sahur today to write a post, I thought i was done for the week. But a glance on The Sun paper on my way to work this morning brought about a long-repressed heave of frustration and anger. MORE acid attacks, on two separate men, this month – one a robbery (a tragic scam where they puncture your tyre, splash acid on you when you get out to check, and rob off your belongings); the other a revenge attack after a car accident. Like, who are these people who are carrying out vicious acid splash attacks? And for WHAT? A few thousand bucks (for selling off a laptop) and then, on to the next attack? What happens to the people who are permanently disfigured, who can’t turn back the clock?

Newspaper headlines can be so depressing, i remember a schoolmate saying she doesn’t even bother to read it anymore because it makes her feel so helpless. That’s probably an extreme, but i do agree – with all the sad news of drought/famine in Somalia, war (civil/political/what have you) in Libya/Syria and the likes, riots in London (less fatal but still illustrates social class issues.. and that poor Ashraf Haziq), not to mention ongoing political madness in Palestine.. it makes me feel very very.. helpless and powerless at the sheer frustration of it all.

If i were not a Muslim, I’m sure i’ll be questioning: Why does God allow these things to happen? If He were just and fair, wouldn’t he disallow cruelty, poverty and hunger? To anyone wondering the same thing, I can just direct you to the story of student vs atheist professor, which is a pretty good story (author unknown). Wallahu’alam.

I’m gonna try and do something about this (because I just talked about taking action in my previous post, so I..err, have to practise what I preach). As soon as I get my salary this month, I’ll be looking to donate monthly to some projects. My friend Durra is involved with Rumah Aman orphanage , the singer Yuna has been promoting Islamic Aid which currently has the projects Ramadan Appeal and Africa Food Crisis, and I’ll be continuing my contributions (albeit small) to the amazing Mercy Malaysia and WWF. This will be my tiny, tiny effort to try and help.. and to try feel less helpless and powerless.

Time and time again

In career, family, happiness, religion on August 18, 2011 at 7:05 am

10 years ago, I was a fresh graduate arriving in the big city starting my career while returning home to my family after spending 5 years abroad. I was only 22 waiting to turn 23, and a bit plump (a result of snacking on chocolate digestives in front of the telly, as the Brits call it). Although i was very young then, I had already learned my lessons and growing pains within those 5 years – i had broken hearts, gotten my heart broken, been cheated on, been away from family, learnt the perils of being on my own, lost sight of my spirituality and then gaining it back. And so i thought i was already very much grown up.

Life since then has been nothing but a blessing, albeit a steep learning curve, to me. During the last year before returning home, I had just broken up with another boyfriend (i had a LOT of boy troubles back then) and was praying constantly to God to help lead me the way. I remember sitting at the prayer mat, crying, talking with Him in my head (ala Elizabeth Gilbert in Eat Pray Love) requesting for a good, kind man for a life partner. And Alhamdulillah, He granted me one. In a week from that day, my friend/college mate, now husband, contacted me (we were friends since 18) and asked for help in introducing him to my lecturer for his final term project. An introduction turned to lunch in the college common room, which turned to a movie, which turned to a bus ride around the city which turned to him saying to me “I don’t know where this is going to lead us, but i’m glad that we’re starting something”.

And that something turned out to be engagement 1 year later, marriage a year after that (when we both were still 24), a miscarriage (which broke our hearts), a baby boy (now our beloved son) and lots and lots more growing up to do. Together. Looking back, i wonder why they say the first year is a honeymoon year – i think we definitely spent ours adjusting to each other and ironing out issues. How can you not? You get 2 adults who’re used to their own opinions and ideas, different backgrounds/upbringing and you throw them together in the same room – even best friends can start arguing with each other, in my opinion. When they say the highest rate of divorce is for marriages below 5 years, i understand why. Marriage, as they say, isn’t a contract – but a constant negotiation.

Time and time again, what i’ve learnt is that all the basics of life, and more importantly, religion, matter. You must indeed learn to be nice to the other party first, before you can expect anyone to be nice to you. You must sort out any issues you have yourself, before you can sort out somebody else’s. You must FIND yourself first, before you can learn to share who you are with another person for life. And in order to find yourself, you have to look deep within your core and remember that God created you, and to Him you will return. Everything else is just details.

Another core principle i hold on to now is that we need to take action whenever we are troubled about something. Been having fights with your husband recently? Book a weekend getaway, where hopefully the romantic setting can lead you to start reconnecting with each other (trust me, getting there is already half the job done). Been worrying about baby issues, like me? I have decided, after a year of trying, to book an appointment with a fertility specialist. Bored with your job? I’ve discovered that moving to a new place can be refreshing and exciting – although tiny baby steps, such as taking breaks between hours in front of the pc (and listening to music on headphones while working) help me a great deal (the salary raise upon moving jobs can be a big motivation too). The point is, complaining is one thing – actually making some steps to overcome the problem is another.

And of course. You probably know this is coming. Time and time again, without fail, always turn to God for help and prayers. Because we human beings are really nothing without His blessing that He has created for us – the blue skies that aren’t yet falling, the clear waters running from streams, the mountains that are as yet standing firm, the atom that magically balances itself to keep matter together (i took a particle physics course in A Levels – something about spin, quarks, magnetic force etc etc). In other words, we’re really pretty insignificant – and to me, that big picture helps keep things in perspective.

So what will i be like 10 years from now? Hopefully with all new good things happening within the next decade. A lot more growing up and understanding myself, with more attention and energy to pour on Umar and future siblings, as well as being able to extend more help to others particularly within my own bigger family. Hopefully i’ll look like a young 40-something (take J-Lo/Jennifer Aniston, discounted by half – heck, 70% – and i’ll be happy). Amin.

 

Life’s little miracles

In baby, career, family, happiness, religion, unforgettable on August 3, 2011 at 9:16 pm

Remember when I wrote about my “Ah-ha” moment, when I knew God was listening to me? Well, I had another one of those moments again. But first, let me explain.

Lately I have been receiving a lot of blessings from God (Alhamdulillah). Although our plan to stay longer in Melbourne didn’t turn out as planned, and my job there ended, another job opened here in KL which provided me with a pretty attractive offer.

Although I have not yet been blessed with another baby, my son has continued to grow healthily and has happily settled in at his old school (albeit some off days where it seems as if he’s almost chanting “I don’t want to go to school”).

Although DH and I were pretty stressed out over the premature move back home, in the end we got 2 fantastic months off together, including 2 weeks’ holiday traveling around Australia with my family and a spa getaway to PD.

And in my first few days at the new office, I have been blessed with the sector focus that I asked for and with a great team, complete with one of the best bosses (I’ve only talked to him once but so far he’s great). So it follows that lately I’ve been wondering how long will it last and when will the first ‘break point’ come.

Today seemed a likely candidate. I was sleepy and tired although at work nothing bad happened. In the evening, I tried to take the commuter train to my in laws’ in Bangi, where my two boys had gone earlier for breaking fast. Unfortunately, the train never came and by the time it did, the tired crowd jostled and shoved so hard to get in, I thought I was in India. Needless to say I gave up, called DH and told him I was going back to my own house in PJ via LRT (if not I would have to eat at KL Sentral station, alone) and he agreed.

Exhausted and hungry, I arrived at LRT station in PJ to see a long queue for the taxi. As the Azan (call to prayer) broke out, I left the queue and went to the sole food stall to buy something I could nibble on to break my fast. On the way there I saw a group of 3 blind people walking together (even stepping into puddles) and, feeling the heat of taxis nearby, opened each cab door, hoping to catch a ride. Being blind, they did not know that each taxi was occupied and that the queue was situated at the end of the pavement. Each cab subsequently turned them down.

I couldn’t bear it, and as I realized that it was my duty to help them, I went over to the man who seemed to be leading the other two, tapped his shoulder and told him what was the situation. They agreed to let me show them the way and so I led them (steering clear of the puddles) to the queue. Very kindly, the people ahead gave way and let them take the next cab. I resumed my way to the food stall only to discover that all the food was sold out.

I rejoined the queue, still tired and with a rumbling stomach, but I realized that my thoughts were still with the blind people earlier. I realized how lucky I am and how I’ve been blessed (together with my family) with good senses and health. I remember how the only lady among them talked to me cheerfully about how they were going to go eat at a Tom Yam buffet, despite her blindness and the fact that she had earlier stepped into a puddle. My eyes watered as I marveled at their strength and courage.

Suddenly, a taxi drove up on the other side of the pavement, with the driver sticking his head out of the window and called, seemingly, to me. He asked where I was headed and upon hearing my answer, told me to get in, despite the fact that he had 2 other passengers. As I gratefully did so I heard him saying “u mau buka puasa mah” (I know you have to break fast). My eyes watered again as I realized that this is indeed another blessing Allah swt has given to me today. A reminder of what I have, and a hidden reward of further blessing if I do the right thing.

May Allah grant me the strength to always see his blessings and miracles (even if they seem far from me at the time), the courage to always do the right thing (even when I reach the scary ‘break point’) and the wisdom to keep having faith in Him, because He knows best.

Fasting month is here again

In career, religion on July 25, 2011 at 7:01 pm

Ah, fasting month is almost here. And the dead giveaway is that familiar, headache-impounding, calendar-counting, race/countdown to complete the Puasa Ganti (replacement fasts) in time before it starts. And always, always, I fail to plan properly and run out of weekdays (who wants to replace their fasts on weekends??) and state-of-purity days (i.e. not on a period) to finish.

Today I decided to fast, because although I know I’m running out of time, I know I’m perfectly capable of performing them this week as it’s my last week of unemployment. Yes, next Monday I start my new job at the infamous Twin Towers. I do have butterflies in my stomach (I always do, whenever I’m starting something new) but right now I don’t even wanna think about it. I want to enjoy my carefree hours. Like today.

With my new room already made-over (does anyone want to see pictures?) and most of the items on my to-do list dwindling down, I had nothing much to do today. Since I didn’t get up for sahur (due to sleeping past midnight due to the fantastic MTV WorldStage concert last night), I feel pretty weak today and disinterested in doing anything other than sleep, lie around, read old magazines and surf for a romantic spa getaway/work clothes (yes I need both).

In fact, since coming back from Australia, DH and I have been having a really good time, Alhamdulillah. The concert last night, karaoke ventures out with friends and family, paying for things with our Australian bank card (the A$ has a fantastic rate going on), waking up late everyday and sending our son/picking him up from kindergarten, driving around town looking for the best food that we’ve missed the most… Ah, it’s practically the end of an era.

I’m gonna try my best to plan out this week to maximise my ‘total consumer surplus’ as my MBA-ed up DH likes to quote it. If I can complete my to-do list (although just like any other working mom, I have a never-ending list), plan a getaway with DH, shop for new work clothes (i’m in a higher position and may need to wear more work suits), continue my tawaf for the best food in town, yet still manage to fast at least 2 days (today and Thursday), I think I would have done a very good job.

Wishing all my dear readers a happy and blessed Ramadhan. Even if you’re not a Muslim, try fasting for a day – hopefully it will make all of us become better people inside and out.

 

How about just being nice

In happiness, religion on July 18, 2011 at 1:12 pm

Garage sale has been done (actually garage give-away since everything was free), paint guys coming tomorrow and everything is on track for new wardrobe and bed to come on Thursday.

However, about ten minutes ago, I received a call from the furniture store where, instead of sounding warm and grateful to me as a client, the lady instead barked “kalau hantar hari ni boleh tak?”

And a good morning to you too, I’m always happy to receive wonderful customer service, I thought. Instead i said, “no, you can’t send it today.”

“Why? What time are you free?” She demanded further.
“Um, not at any time. Because we agreed on Thursday, remember?”
“But why can’t we send it today?” NOW she’s sounding like a spoiled brat. Who is annoyingly repetitive.
“Because the paint guys are coming tomorrow and there’s no one to dismantle the bed,” I explained patiently.

Without covering her phone she barked to someone else in the background that this customer just won’t do today, and later came back and said “OK la we just come on Thursday then.”

Umm, yes. That’s a good idea.

Which brings me to a little thought. If you wanna be happy, how about just being plain nice to people? It’s not the most difficult thing in the world, and it may even bring some happiness back to you. So at least you won’t sound like you rolled out of the wrong side of bed or haven’t had some in 10 years.

Ok that wasn’t very nice. And she wasn’t that bad. Just thought it would make a relevant topic since it’s our 8th anniversary today and being nice is kind of Really Important in a marriage.

Note to self for today’s entry into my Gratitude Journal: 8 years’ happy marriage (and so far not a single plate-throwing incident), healthy son who’s happily going to school, nice hubby, nice family, and nice customer service in Malaysia. Ok, lied about the last one.

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