Tea-totaller

One of the rulings in Islam is the forbiddance of alcohol consumption. Or as it is said in Arabic 'Haram'. However, a proviso applies in such a case of medicinal import or medical emergency. This set of emergencies includes a case of hypothermia and any health-related scenario which compels the imbibing of alcohol-laden beverages. Also, if you are in a state of national emergency like famine, drought or war and alcoholic drinks are the last thing available to quench your thirst and aid in your survival, then you are allowed to consume these spirits.

Contrary to some skeptics and opponents, Islam is not so unreasonable in its principles and beliefs. God knows best the extent of human beings' capability and endurance.

I had weighed the pros and cons of this particular musing. First, it might carry undertones of a self-righteous prig. Second, it might hurt the sensibilities of some readers. Third, this entry is solely to represent my opinion and to share my experience.

In the end, I decided, without much mental anguish and dilemma, to follow through with this discourse and gratify my desire to monologuing.

An idealist by nature, I was initially shocked by the exposure to Muslim drinking revellers.

It was during my collegiate time. I didn't know Bring Your Own Food/Own Drink party constituted slugging down Budweiser longnecks, vodka and other ungodly concoctions.

I should have known - considering the background of some of these students. But I had thought they'd practice some restraints when being amongst other Muslims (their younger brethrens) as a show of respect to the others that strongly followed this belief.

From then onwards, I had become numbed and insouciant with these kinds of stories.

That was until a 'relatively' close friend of mine (who has now been rendered an ex-friend) divulged her own 'wantings' of an alcoholic variety.

During a getaway trip and while driving, she almost salivated when uttering "Oh, how a vodka would do me good right now".

I was petrified by such confession which was borderline on the alcoholic. I know she was a 'tad bit' liberal but that was a definitive moment where we part company.

When she wanted to indulge in a holiday drunkardness, I finally made my stand - if you want to do so, you can do without me. And she didnt - I think for the most part due to a lack of quorum to have a 'jolly good time'.

When we had a falling out some time later which I attribute to her temporary lapse into insanity, I now speculate if it was the lack of alcohol in her system that had caused it. Hmmmm..........

As for other third parties' account that I have come across, the impression that drinking is synonymous with the yuppie culture (educated overseas or otherwise) was turned upside down during my first person encounter with someone who is not from the yuppie set and who had been drinking since she was 16.

Whether it was out of confession or showing off, I was too appalled to question her motives when she told me this next - that she quitted (which was quite recently - about 2-3 years ago and she is now almost in her mid-30s) because she couldn't get drunk anymore. In other words, the tolerance level was so high that she couldn't make herself get drunk.

However, I do give her credit for not straying from her resolve not to drink anymore. At least, that's what she told me and given her current circumstances, I'm giving her the benefit of my doubt.

I admit I am naive to let this judgement call hampering my pursuit of congenial and interesting acquaintances. But I am only human. As long as they don't ask me to partake in such acitvity , don't label me unfairly as uncool for not doing the same or don't relish in their drunkard hour stories, I am cool about being chummy with these yuppie or non-yuppie crowds.

On the flip side, if they don't think I'm cool enough for their lifestyle, well, tough! Aufwedershein!

Pet Peeves Part 2

Recovering from my post-anniversary euphoria, I am more than ready to plunge head-on into the second instalment of my pet peeves.

It is without much ado relates to societal living.

Social graces. Social etiquette. Social deportment. What-have-you.

Not one whom others might consider graceful, I plan to attack this matter from a different angle. Mainly from the point of view of conversation, salutation and public conduct. In other words, socio-behavioural.

I am taking the lead from Ms Fran Lebowitz, American's great social satirist and humourist whose socio-cultural observations are quite deliciously sardonic and funny in turn.

As one grows older, one realises those public decorum lectures sounded off by one's elders have now become logical and practical for dissemination. In a way, one is grateful for the indelible mark (or scar) being imprinted on one's brain. Social conduct is indeed a significant matter to fuss over in this material world.

First of, I am quite peeved when someone whom I know is suffering or lacking certain station in his or her lives having to bear a group conversation of that very taboo subject. This happens despite the nitwit loquacious person (in the said conversation) having the knowledge of that hapless person's current predicament. Confused yet?

Let's say this guy whom you know is having problem of the reproductive kind but your wife who knows quite well about this matter didn't care to practice her discretion by talking about babies and how someone she knows is expecting triplets, etc, etc.

And for instance, your girlfriend who is not yet married but probably has plans to, cringing while listening about this and that friend making wedding plans or mulling over the name of a new baby.

One exception to this rule is when that person herself or himself asks you about the particular taboo matter. Then, it is considered appropriate to yap about the subject, however a point of caution applies - always talk in a LESS excitable manner or be as nonchalant as you can.

Another irritating habit that I have observed of people revolves on the attendance of functions. Imagine this - a couple is attending a formal function like a sit-down hotel wedding and a friend or colleague or acquaintance of the husband only makes an effort to talk to the husband and not to the wife!

This is even more chronic and not to mention confounded, when the friend is a woman, the same species with the wife! Of course this applies to the husband as well when the table has turned with the wife's male friend striking a conversation only with her. But the former scenario is more apparent, at least judging from my consensus.

The situation turns more grating when the so-called friend keeps asking for the husband - what seems like every 5 minutes - to ask a question or make a comment. When the wife asked the husband what it is all about, within earshot of that friend, this awkward behaviour already constitutes a strong hint to include her (the wife) in the conversation to which that inane friend should have taken heed. But no, she kept on going like a clueless blonde and avoiding any eye contact with the wife. What a twerp (though I have other adjectives in mind)! Something is definitely amiss there. At least, in that nonexistent brain of hers.

The same thing applies when, bumping into each other, a friend/acquaintance of one half of a couple only greets hello to one half of the couple without acknowledging the other half's existence. As if the other half is not present or suddenly rendered invisible. The least a person could do is to smile at the other half, even if the person doesn't know the other half.....yet.

Another point of aggravation on the public front is when a person is in the midst of withdrawing money from the ATM machine and the person behind will stand too close for comfort and try his best to take a peek at the person's transaction or if lucky, his account balance. This heinous act is not intended in any way to represent a plot to hatch a public mugging but just the curious nature of a socially inept person who makes it his/her business to know everything about ANYbody. It is as if the triumphant sight of someone else's fiscal composition gives him a thrill. Get a life!

And there is a matter of queuing to pay at a check-out counter. A person will feign seeing a long line and cut queue by going to the front of the cashier. He or she will proceed with this act as long as the others do not make any noise. But the worst of this kind are those who become deaf even when the other shop patrons behind him/her clamor for justice. This is a frequent occurence when only one or two persons are behind him/her in line.

I notice a common thread in all these social provocations. It lies in ignoring a person's presence OR a person's misfortunes in order to gain something for oneself.

This reminds me of an 'office worker' who purposely left me out of the prospect of attending a meeting and discuss about this meeting in another language so as to ruffle my feathers, so to speak.

For this lack of social deportment, I have this to say to myself, it is probably her/his 'station in life' or 'innate malevolent psyche' that compels her/him to behave in such a vicious, inconceivable manner.

And when all else fails in rectifying or controlling the damage of these social misconducts, I will carry on in a manner not dissimilar to theirs. Ignore the person in public or in some instances, in a private realm such as work.

Anniversary on the horizon

I've decided to chuck my irreverent list of pet peeves for this entry and indulged instead on a more forthcoming subject.

My first wedding anniversary.

This Sunday marks our first wedding anniversary and heralds another chapter of exciting and impetuous times ahead.

The year has its share of ups and downs, laughters and cries, silences and uproars.

I would be remiss if I did not admit that living with my partner has taught me some things about life. It has also aspired me to be a better person, for my sake and his sake.

Like any normal conjugal bonds, there was a period of adjustments to the other person's way of thinking, living condition and other surprising habits. And of course, with any formidable partnerships come the compromises and sacrifices.

My love story was one of friendship turning into love.

Pre-marriage, I often wonder if I had missed anything not experiencing the so-called wooing stage like those people going on awkward first few dates or those followers and proponents of the 'love-at-first-sight movement'.

Then, I got hitched and understood the kindness and caring that dovetail with love. It was like experiencing a wooing period for the first time.

My husband was quite reserved and 'practical' with his display of affection before we were married. It was a nice 360 degrees surprise after we tied the knot.

For this, I find myself grateful for the attention and fondness he bestowed on me.

However, it wasn't that smooth a sailing during the adaptive first-year period.

There were things that I didn't agree with that had caused heartaches and headaches to us both.

My husband's relenting and assenting to my views prompted me to realign and adjust my rather intractable stance.

It was however an adjustment on quite a scanty scale. I know I'm quite a slow learner. Or as my husband said it best, 'My learning curve is on the inverse."

His patience to my uncompromising and at times childish nature was at first unnerving and thereafter soothing.

I was grateful to this person whom I had called a friend first.

Our long and bittersweet history together has made us who we are today. We have come to understand what makes us tick, weep and tick off.

Despite the distance and time that had separated us in the interim to the wedding date, we have grown to love one another even more. Absence does make the heart grow fonder!

A firm believer in soul mates, I had this keen intution that I found mine the moment I met my husband in 1992. You could say that was my own 'brand' of love-at-first-sight.

Though it took some time to come to where we stand today, it was a worthwhile journey (albeit the emotional barbwires and boobytraps along the way).

What doesn't break us, makes us even stronger.

On this beautiful day we'd become husband and wife, thanks my love for the cherished and idyllic times that we've spent.

Whimsical views

As I am quite a neophyte in this realm one calls Blog, I am obliged to partake in a short introduction of my persona.

Half of a twin, I am married to someone of the twin sign - Gemini and currently pregnant with my first child.

The anticipated arrival of my first child is an event in itself. As the bump on my stomach protrudes further, my impending motherhood role looms larger.

I am finding myself increasingly ambivalent of my abilities to rear a child, let alone bring a child into this world.

However, my supportive husband has been a great anchor in helping me wade through my highs and lows.

And of course, religion plays a significant part in bringing me back to my senses and keeping me grounded.

And I should give myself some credit too. I've realised that I'm now old enough to be able to handle a host of responsibilities.

First of firsts, as I grow older and as of the middle of this year, officially sprout some white hair, I come to a more keen and well-defined realisation of things, events, people and circumstances that tick me off.

Call it my list of pet peeves and this blog is dedicated to my first pet peeve.

Malaysian drivers.

Yes, many have attempted to discuss and pontificate on this subject matter and I can vouch most of them have come out feeling much better after their fair share of ranting on ghastly Malaysian motorists.

As a concerned (and victimised) citizen, it behooves me to delineate the gruesome nature of some (or you can call it 'the majority') of these drivers.

Malaysian drivers are notorious for these obvious reasons (which markedly surprise me that those in authorities have failed to take more stringent actions):
a) They change lane at the VERY last minute without switching on their signal or indicator light
b) They assume that the other motorists are mind readers and will be able to anticipate their next inane move
c) They drive on the rightmost lane at a snailpace and refuse to budge to the middle lane due to their over-inflated egos despite incessant flashing and honking by the driver behind and in spite of a long queue that has formed due to his or her slowpaced driving. (This rings more true if the slow driver is a man and the rear driver is a woman)
d) When a driver signals to switch to the next lane (right or left), the driver behind will not give way and will instead drive faster to NOT let the person in.
e) This mentality in turn leads to the non-signalling culture as explained in a).
f) Drivers tend to take their own sweet time going out of a parking space even though a long line has formed due to one driver waiting for him/her to get out of the parking space.
I had my share of these and the most memorable one happened when one ladydriver was engaged in a sort of pre-driving insane ritual which involves checking and re-touching her makeup, combing her hair, and drinking water before decided to give me, this hapless driver, her parking spot.
g) Drivers who always think they are right despite being in the contrary state. One recent incident took place when I was signalling right to park my car and this driver out of nowhere was speeding behind me and almost hit my car. And then he had the gall to come out of his car and blamed me for almost causing an accident. Hello! I signalled to park. He looked a tad dazed, almost stoned. Probably he was. That nitwit. And just because I was a girl, he decided he could harass me. He was going on that he was driving at a safe speed and said I was wrong to suddenly go into park mode when I decided to wind up the window and let him talk to himself.
h) Drivers that proceeded to drive even after the light has turned red on the foolish notion that the drivers from the opposite traffic light will take a short breather to let him or her pass. This has caused an alarming number of unnecessary and avoidable accidents at city and suburb junctions.
i) While driving on country or state roads, drivers who are under the influence of their ego or alcohol or having a temporary lapse of judgment or plainly speaking - temporarily insane, will attempt to overtake huge and bulky vehicles (lorries, trucks) in front of them, at the expense of drivers from the opposite direction having to inch away to any space available - like dirt road or the guardrail - in order to avoid a head-on collision.

There you are - my list of peevish traits of Malaysian drivers.
Due to this impertinent state of affairs, I regretfully confess that I have also become an aggressive driver myself. That is the sad part but that's life - when you can't beat them you join them. Just make sure your driving license is still valid!

A Year Amongst Tulips

Excerpt:
"Birthplace of Vermeer...Immerse yourself in cosy and historical Delft, one of the best-preserved towns in the Netherlands and birthplace of 17th-century Dutch painter Jan Vermeer. A gem of a town known as the city of the princes, Delft is set within an intricate tapestry of canals, cobbled streets and charming pedestrian bridges. Famous for its blue pottery, the town is a truly enchanting place where you can spend a relaxing and rewarding time away from the hustle and bustle of everyday life.

Start off your exploration of this engaging town by strolling along the canals and narrow winding alleyways, stopping off to sample the fare of local street traders or browsing in some excellent antique shops and emporiums. Listen to the unique sound of the barrel organ, bringing a smile to the faces of old and young alike with its infectious melodies filling the streets in the early evening. Pay a visit to the atmospheric New Church, which features within its lofty space the mausoleum of William of Orange and whose impressive 100-metre-high spire affords a spectacular view of the town below, or make the trip to the Porcelyne Fles factory, a factory specialising in the production of traditional Delft hand-painted pottery. After making your selection at the factory, why not pay a visit to the Museum Lambert van Meerten, a museum presenting Delft’s finest collection of Delftware. Amble down the flower-lined Wijnhaven, one of the prettiest streets in Delft and make your way to the Oude Kerk, the finest building in the town that boasts a quirky leaning tower and some breathtaking modern stained glass dating from the Second World War. Take a horse-drawn tram around the old city centre and admire the gabled red-roofed houses and medieval buildings above you. Sample the unique atmosphere of a floating café on the canal or enjoy a drink at one of the many cosy and welcoming old-fashioned pubs.

Enjoy a picnic on the banks of the canals, stop and watch the barges cruise past from your vantage point on a bridge or spoil yourself with a coffee in a sleepy outdoor café or one Delft’s renowned grand cafes. Sample the tranquil atmosphere during an evening stroll before dining in a smart restaurant by the canal bank or tucked away down a quaint cobbled street. Listen to some live jazz or blues in a suave nightspot or simply take in the sights and sounds of Delft, a laid-back town with a warm welcome."

The prospect of spending a year in a foreign country with my newborn baby in tow (God willing) has not fully dawned on me yet. As for my husband, I do not know if he shares my sentiment but he is the type who likes to take one day at time. In other words, he will only want to tackle the problem when the time is imminent to do so. Maybe I should not underestimate the innerworkings of my husband's mind - he would probably have some inkling as to where and how we are going to live in Holland. At least, he holds a 'blueprint' of what is to be expected. Someone has to.

May be it is not yet a time to ruminate on the prospect of spending a year in Delft.

After all, the impending arrival of our new baby is more pressing and more profound than having to think of the logistics of our lives in the near future.

Or do we have to think of both CONCURRENTLY? That sounds like a daunting feat to me.

The Internet covers innumerate details on the living conditions, activities and places of interest to visit in Delft.And while they all sound interesting to say the least, I could not help but to tread on the matter rather meekly. The sky in the pictures looks grey, dreary and cloudy to me. There goes all my negative adjectives.

However, that's what you expect when you stay in a place where the sun rarely shines brightly. Europe (and England) is more often than not, overcast. And so I found myself automatically comparing Holland to the ever cherrful and sunny place of Malaysia upon viewing those photos.

Delft is located in between The Hague and Rotterdam. Is The Hague the HQ of NATO? Or is it the place where the tribunals of war criminals are held? I am not so well versed in the geography of Holland but I think Rotterdam is the capital. Or will anyone beg to differ on that?

Delft is also near the seaside, according to its location in the Atlas. And this was reinforced by one Website commentary which states that Delft is one tram ride away to a foreign-name beach. Hurray! At least a beach respite a tram ride away. That would be a nice change of scenery from the canal-ridden and heavily bicycle-populated town of Delft. Or perhaps, the beach will also be a bicycle fest to be reckoned with!

I was also informed by my friend, Rizal that Delft is the town where Dutch famous painter, Vermeer used to resides and becomes the inspiration to one of my favourite novels, A Girl with A Pearl Earring by Tracy Chevalier.

I've almost forgot about that. In actuality, I didn't have any recollection of that at all. It is either that my grey cells have been decimated by age and the hitherto 'pregnancy effect' or the book wasn't something to shout about in the first place. Or both.

Some books have touted forgetfulness during pregnancy as the norm. I think I am most susceptible to this consensus, judging from my series of mishaps and incidences. These include parking my automatic car on 'N' or Neutral overnight which resulted in a panic-stricken episode where I wrongly deduced as my car running out of battery. I once forgot to switch off my dashboard light for many days (while on holiday) which rendered the car battery kaput.

Back to my future overseas venture with my husband (and baby), I attribute this feeling of apprehension to my slow adapting nature. I have that problem whenever I move to a new place or if you like, embark on a new station in life, for instance going to the States for studies, moving house and getting married.

I think moving to my family's new house in Kota Damansara from Shah Alam was the least troublesome task to undertake.

The others took a while to adjust.I will be grouchy (or some would say 'baitchee' but I would say 'hormonal'), tearful or moody or the combination of the three. However, due to my wilful nature, unavoidable circumstances or my loved ones' passive or active intervention, I will gradually come to my senses and buck up. My sense of adventure and willingness to try new things override the initial feelings of trepidation.

To make matters more difficult (to my mind at least), I am wary of stories of nationalistic-driven Dutch (is there such a word Dutches?) persecuting Muslim settlers and dwellers in Holland by burning their houses. The killing part? I am not so sure. I dare not check. This 'Dutch United front' was precipitated by the killing of Van Gogh's kin by a Muslim fanatic.

On other matters, my concern over the dearth of halal meat was gladly laid to rest by another friend, Khalina, who reassured me of its sizeable availability in Clogs Land. I did manage to find a host of Indonesian and Thai restaurants listed in one of the Delft-centric Websites I visited. Oh well, I can always order seafood there.

This process of laying the pros and cons (and making excuses) of living in a foreign land finally gave way to one or two conclusions. I am just an inveterate worrywart. On a more serious note, however, I'm wondering my own ability to care and fend after my first baby in her early months away from the tutelage of my relatives and 'other support system.' My husband's supportive presence is godsend to my new motherhood stage, that I have no doubt.

I have just to take care of my baby one day a time and learn from trials and errors. This time will be a great opportunity for me to bond with my child and be, as hackneyed as it sounds, more independent. Of course, help is just a (albeit expensive) phone call away. Perhaps I should now really look into learning to use those cheap Internet-based phone services.