Friday, April 10, 2015

Friday, April 3, 2015

Down The Drain

Salam and hey Peepnets! I just got back from my family vacation trip to Kuala Lumpur (KL) last Wednesday and super tired from all the adventures. NOT! KL is like a third-home for me, so it was just like balik kampong. (Been contemplating with myself on this one because I still claim Sydney to be my second-home at heart #missingSydney).

I have a story to tell. A story that will make you feel stressed out on life like “why does this happen to meeeeeee?” kind of story. Sit back; relax, read on and this could happen to you too.

Well, you can also not read it.

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It’s 11 in the morning on a hot day. Babu called just now to make sure my sister and I are ready for our day. She did not tell us about her plan but as any other vacations, it has to be shopping. My family is not the type to go sightseeing and exploring the landscapes of the country kind of tourists but we usually just head-on to any Malls, Markets and Restaurants to indulge our needs.

“Since it’s almost lunch, why not we eat first and then we go jalan?”

Babu suggested, before “we go shopping for my sister’s wedding”. We all agreed, as we were super hungry as well.

Note: My breakfast this morning, a cup of Maggi, Butterscotch flavored bun, a durian crepe leftover from last night, my brother’s potato wedges and mineral water. Now, why am I hungry?

We ate lunch anyways. We had five types of Biryani, not a fan of this cuisine but WOW! They’re good!

image source: my Samsung Note II

I am half-full and I still can eat them like I had not eaten! (I have a humongous space in my tummy that I don’t know how all food can fit in there but it does. Not to mention, I have a protruding belly afterwards)

After lunch, we spent 9 hours of shopping including walking, wandering around the shops, traveling by monorails, going from stations to stations to get where we want to be. Since this trip consists of 7 people, we don’t fancy taxis because they can only fit 4 people, sheessh!

I didn’t realize it’s 8:37pm already when we waited for our bus ride back to the hotel and I am amazed that we did not have snacks in between! What an achievement for a forever-hungry family! We had drinks of course. If not, we might have died of dehydration especially in this weather! #drama

Arrived at the hotel approximately half-an-hour later and we went to our rooms for toilet break and whatnot. After that, zoomed off to a nearby restaurant for dinner, placed our orders and waited. And waited. And waited.

Sabar, sabar. Be patient. There are lots of customers. They must have been busy in the kitchen. I told myself.

An hour later, our food arrived. All checked except one more Nasi Ayam (Chicken Rice). Okay, so we ordered three Nasi Ayam. Grandpop took his plate already and left with only one.

“Nah, you have it first,” I offered to my sister.
“I can wait,” she said.
“No, I’m alright. I need to reply some texts anyway,” I insisted and started swiping my smartphone.
She shrugged off and took the plate.

You know in Islam, when you do good deeds, you gain pahala. Pahala is like you gain blessings from Allah and if you do more good things, you gain more pahala points and insyaAllah may we all be in Paradise. To put it simply:
  • Good deeds = Pahala = Paradise
  • Bad deeds = Dosa = Hellfire


So I practically wanted pahala the moment I offered my sister the meal. However, another hour past and all of them finished their meals. My Nasi Ayam is nowhere to be seen. Dad called the waiter and told him that my meal has not arrived yet. The waiter went back in and more times past, I thought my meal would be ready soon but he did not come back.

Dad was furious and called the waiter again. He went back in and came back to our table and said, “The Nasi Ayam has finished, would you like to order something else?”

At that point I wanted to punch him in the face, grabbed his shoulder, threw him on the ground and stomped on his belly and yelled, “after all this while, you should’ve said something!” and finished off by pouring a cup of water on his face.

Obviously I didn’t do that to the waiter. It’s not his fault. The cruel thing about a situation is that you didn’t know where things went wrong. It could be the waiter, the chef, the people around them, and the paper where they jot the orders down and so on.

I did not order anything else as I began to pack my things and walked out. I am mad and I don’t feel like talking to anyone. All I want is food, which I did not get. But after that point, then I realized… my pahala went away.

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So much for doing good deeds eh? I can’t help but laugh afterwards. All my effort of being nice just went down the drain.

What are your “down the drain” moments?

- Miss P -


Friday, March 27, 2015

Becky To The Stars

Alhamdulillah, it’s the end of March already! Can’t really relate how fast time flies nowadays. I am still unemployed. Ya Allah, please give me rezeki in finding job (and a good husband heehee). Oh and I'll be off to Kuala Lumpur soon! (Okay, what should I pray on the plane? What? Doa musafir makbul okay!)

Anyways, February was awesome. I remember that the Fam organized a birthday gathering for my Grandpop and few others, went for a road trip to KB with my Aussie-mates, went to get nasi katok at midnight with my sister and did watching “Kingsman: The Secret Service” counts? DEFINITELY YES! (Taron Egerton and Colin Firth <3)

I just finished reading the latest Shopaholic Series: Shopaholic to the Stars. It took me about three months to finish it and I don’t expect it took that long to end this book! Like whaaattt, it usually took me on average 4 days or a week at most to finish a book! Plus, it’s the Shopaholic Series! I started to wonder why.

Okay, probably because of:

  1. I am tired of the chaos made by Becky.
  2. It’s exhausting to read about her dramas. Like why can’t you just lead a normal life? Can you just shut your thoughts and actually listen to others? (But then I think it’s ridiculous because this book is about Becky)
  3. I am just tired of Becky.
  4. And Probably those Hollywood artists too.
  5. And what’s up with her dad really!


Don’t get me wrong. I love Becky. However this latest book is just so tiring. With all her drama and stuff. It’s all about her! Yeah, yeah, she’s the shopaholic one here and this book is supposed to focus on her but as I said, it’s tiring when she just do what she think is right without consulting with others, especially her husband, Luke. Poor chap.

I know its not like Becky is a real life person that she has to lead a normal life. Obviously, she is a fiction and she is free to do what she wants. I lose interest in reading the early chapters but the pace goes back up at about chapter 16. But I think I’ve read too much action/thriller novels before reading this book. Where these novels’ are different in pace as they can even have a climax at the start. (Refer Maze Runner, Chapter 1). They keep us thinking in each and every chapter, from the start to finish. Though some does not have a great ending.

However, I can’t believe I am saying this (after all the dislikes that I had on this book), I can’t wait for the next series to come out. Oh please, I am not the only one who’s dying (not literally) to know what’s up with Becky’s Dad! And the only thing that stuck on my mind after reading the book is “We are all called Rebecca” and why is that? That girl should’ve just said something! Sheesh! (Refer Chapter 21, pages 359-360, according to the edition shown below).


image source: google

On an extra note, Sophie did a free short story for her Shopaholic fans! Did you ever wonder how Becky and Luke’s honeymoon would be like? If you feel like reading their honeymoon story, head on to the link below and enjoy!



- Miss P -

Friday, February 13, 2015

Quranic Gems: Die a Muslim

image source: http://rebloggy.com/post/m-muslim-islam-quran-allah-ayat-surat-yusuf/38398086389

- Miss P -

Thursday, February 12, 2015

BruONZ Summer Games 2014/15

The down-under Summer Games is back! When I thought it wouldn’t.

So this year’s game was quite the “last-minute” kind of event. Usually every year each state would take turns in organizing this event. Sydney was hosting the last two years summer games and Melbourne hosted last year.

I don’t know what happened but it turned out Sydney was organizing the Futsal and Netball tournament this year, which I think should be done by other states.

Anyways, I participated in the Netball tournament as always. I played for the Sydney team. Though last year I did not join due to my yearly travel. I went Umrah last year! Alhamdulillah. I miss Mekah and Madinah now! It was super-duper awesome guys, like whaaaattt…Okay let’s carry on.

There were four teams competing in the netball tournament; Brisbane, New Zealand, Perth and Sydney. Long story short, Sydney won! Alhamdulillah! It was close though. We won over Wahine (New Zealand) and Perth Swans. We lose to Brisbaners and we tied up on first place. Due to time constraint, the winners were picked by total goal difference between each team. That’s how Sydney won the gold medal. (Couldn’t find photos of Second-Place Winner i.e. Brisbaners).

Sydney Team: SUPERNOVAS (First-Place Winner)




New Zealand Team: WAHINE (Third-Place Winner)
Image source: instagram @kacangpea

Perth Team: PERTH SWANS (Fourth Place)
Image source: instagram @fizahnorha



Third Gold Medal Baby.


Alhamdulillah for the win and to play for Sydney was awesome. The fun bit of this event is also meeting your peers; be it the alumni, your own batch, the juniors, the super juniors, people from other states and so on.




I would love to join again in many years to come insyaAllah.


- Miss P -

Monday, February 9, 2015

[Short Story] Till Death Do Us Part

“Would you be my wife Farah?”

“You certainly have not met my parents yet.”

“I did.”

“What did they say?”

“I should go away.”

“Because I’m sick?”

“No. Because they think I should be happy with someone else.
Someone that will take care of me for the rest of my life.”

“… Good. Now why would you ask me for a hand in marriage, Wafiy?”

“Because… I don’t need someone to take care of me.
All I want is to take care of you for the rest of my life.”

_______________________________________________

That is what Wafiy did, for the past 40 years of marriage.

Farah had been hospitalized numerous times. Going in and out of the hospital getting her heart-cancer treatment. She felt helpless when the doctor said she has to stay in the hospital because she has reached her final stage.

I am going to die.
I am going to leave my husband and my six handsome sons.

She thought.

Other cancers could have been treated successfully.
But mine…
Every second just hurt as one by one of my organs have stopped working.
My heart is broken... Literally.
The sound of my heart crumpled into tiny pieces, when it should be beating,
Not only crushed my feelings, but Wafiy’s.

Be strong dear husband, I can’t talk anymore.
I can feel your existence
But I could not open my eyes as I live dependent on this machine.
It hurts.
My heart hurts.
As much as I want to stay but please…
Please…
Let me go.
______________________________________________

“10 percent left?! Of what?! My wife’s life?!”

“Mr. Wafiy – “

“What are you? Allah? God? You can’t predict my wife’s life!”

Babah calm down – “

“Stop it Kamal!”

Babah let’s just listen to the doctor – “

“I said – “

“Just listen to the – “

“SHUT IT KAMAL!”

“NO! YOU SHUT IT!”

Wafiy looked bewildered as his eldest son cried.

“For the past 37 years of my life Babah, I believe… Mama had suffered. Not from the point I had been born but at the point when you hadn’t even met her yet.”

Kamal looked at his father; Wafiy stared ahead.

“She is tired Bah… Tired. Getting treatment even though she knew – we knew it’s going to end up like this. Why don’t we just doa banyak-banyak for her instead of throwing rages and going mad. That is just going to hurt her more. And you too.”

____________________________________________

Three days past and Farah’s heart beats slowly. Wafiy sat beside Farah’s bed and gazed at his lovely wife’s face.

When do we get so old love?
I didn’t realize that your soft, firm skin on your face has turned to wrinkles.
I bet I don’t look as handsome as we first met huh?
But that’s not fair…
Because you are still the most beautiful woman that I have ever met.

Please… Wake her up Allah.
I want her to wake up and look at me.
I wouldn’t be able to let her go.
But if that is YOUR will, then…
 Just wake her up and let me see those beautiful eyes again.

And those beautiful eyes opened slowly and met his gaze. No words were coming out of his mouth. Wafiy could not take his eyes of her and when he sees a glimpse of hope, those beautiful eyes shut again.

___________________________________________

Beep... Beep... Beep...

The signal light on the machine that indicates Farah’s oxygen level was green.

Wafiy started reciting the Qur’an, Surah Yaasin, hoping that Farah would wake up and call his name while he is reciting. However, that beeping sound became quicker. Wafiy looked up and the signal light fluctuated from green to yellow consecutively.

Doctor came in and out checking on Farah’s condition and did their best to help her. Wafiy recited more and after awhile he checked again the signal light.

Beep – beep. Beep – beep. Beep – beep.

The more rapid the beeping sound, the harder he recited. Until…

BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP

The signal light turned red.

Wafiy stopped.

He tried to carry on but he felt his lungs had reached his throat. He stood up, shaking. He gripped his wife’s shoulder and shook her up.

“Don’t leave me Farah! Please… Please don’t leave me!” Wafiy wailed.

He could not hide his tears anymore. He bawled out and that was the first time his sons ever see him cry. The youngest son Harris, 18 years old, cried the most after Wafiy.

He took his wife’s face in his hands and embraced that beautiful face one last time. His tears running down his cheeks as he sobbed.

I will see you soon my love…
I hate to see you go before me,
But I make a promise to Allah and He granted it.
I have to let you go…

Wait for me Farah…
Wait for your dear husband in Jannah.


[This short piece of writing is adapted from a true story. The names used are not the real names of the people involved in the real situation, therefore the name and plots written in this story is purely coincidental and has nothing to do with the living or the dead.]

To Nini Uda, May Allah put you among those who believe, Aamiin.