Wednesday, September 24, 2014

A Dying Breed

Dear perfect gentleman, 

Where are you?

Where is the man who opens the doors for women, doesn’t offer to help yet does it anyways, and carries our excess baggages instinctively? Where is he who accompanying us (and waiting!) to the ladies room in the middle of parties and makes sure that his drunk or sick female friends are returned home safely? He who holds our hands while crossing the street, doesn’t kiss-and-tell, and avoids opportunities to be alone with maried women because he respects them (and their spouses)???

No. These things don’t just happen in the movies. I’ve seen it, I’ve experienced it. Lucky for me, I’ve met one true gentleman, who is fortunately a dear friend of mine. Yeah. ONE. In my entire adult life I’ve only met one. I’ve heard that men are from Mars. But we’re from Venus!! There’s only one planet that separates us so that makes us practically neighbors, no?!? Is it so hard to treat women nicely? 

Many times I wonder and even worry, why certain men (read: pricks) act the way they do. It’s so sad to think that one day my daughter might find an image of a stereotype-looking perfect gentleman next to a picture of a roaring T-Rex... In a museum. Who is to blame? The mother? The father? The world? 

I realize that not all men are bastards and yes, some women are definitely sluts. Yes, the mother, the father and her world might be the one to blame too. But honestly, I don’t see respectful women are on the verge of extinction like gentlemen do. So, I’m asking you once again, my dear gentlemen. 

Where the hell are you???

Saturday, July 26, 2014

Ramadan Now

A few weeks ago I had a very lovely dinner with my family in Bogor. Like always we had coffee and tea in the living room afterwards. As I was resting my head on my sister’s lap, she asked me about how my Ramadan was so far and what have I been doing differently this time. I didn’t expect that kind of question and I needed a minute or two to answer. Finally I said “I don’t know...

Her question kept repeating itself in my head for days. I was thinking “She’s right. Looks like I’ve been doing the same things every Ramadan. Fasting, praying, reciting the Al Quran, asking (read: begging) for this and that and such. You know, the normal stuff. But what if the things that I’ve done so far is not enough? Or worse, what if I’ve been doing it wrong?”

In 2 days Ramadan will be over. Sadness is creeping in. Will this be my last Ramadan? Will I have the chance to experience that distinctive strange, beautiful and exciting feeling again? Will I get the chance to collect the rewards of Ramadan next year? And again, my sister’s question came to mind. Suddenly I remember... 

I was staring at a blank blog page on my birthday last month. I was thinking about what I should write on my 38th. I got nothing. At all. I kept wondering why. I usually had so many wishes. But no, not on that day. I got nothing because I wish for nothing. Nothing for myself, at least. What I did wish was for my daughter's best health and happiness. I wished for her humility and braveness. I wished for her intelligence and strength. I wished for her sincerity and compassion. 

The same thing is happening now. The difference about this year's Ramadan is that I’m not begging for anything for myself except for His forgiveness. Because I'm thinking that I'm not worthy enough to ask for anything else. That's why I've been focusing on others like a certain family member or a dear friend. Most particularly on my daughter. It's quite strange what age does to me. Or life for that matter. Life as in a child. A daughter. She changes me in the most unexpected way. Suddenly nothing else matters. No one else matters. Myself the very least. The feeling I've been having lately, like the one I wrote here, is still there. It's a bit scary. But thank God, the scare hit me. Just now. On the last days of Ramadan. 

If I didn’t wish myself well, then who would take care of my daughter? If I were sick, then who would wake her up in the morning and take her to school? If I were weak, who could protect my girl? If I were scared, who would teach her to be strong and brave? If I didn't consider myself worthy, then how could my precious Godsend value herself? 

So, dear ALLAH, on this Ramadan, 
Please let me do the same thing again, and hopefully better, with a twist. 

Please bless me with Your forgiveness and the ability to forgive others.
So that I can show my daughter how to be a humble person.

Please bless me with an abundance of patience. 
So I can teach my daughter one of the most difficult things to do in life.  

Please bless me with a hunger of knowledge about anything. 
So I can satisfy my daughter’s curiosity of everything. 

Please bless me with the best of health, body and soul.
So I can take care of my daughter's well being and nurture her mind.

Please bless me with the highest level of peace and happiness.
So I can give my daughter a full and happy life. 

Wow... It turns out that as my life is getting shorter, my prayers are getting longer. 


Wednesday, July 16, 2014

Dear Kukka: Happy 6th Birthday!

Sometimes I wonder, how can this be happening
How can I be this fortunate
How can I be this lucky

I have an angel by my side
One that I can hold
One that I can kiss so lavishly

The kindest, the sweetest
With the prettiest heart above all

She shines like a star
She brightens my days
She's bursting with love
For me, unconditionally

Loved by so many 
And of course, so crazily by me 
She spreads her wings of joy and laughter 
To us all so effortlessly 

Baby, you're it 
You're the one 
The only one for me

You are my inspiration 
You are my definition of love

Happy 6th birthday, my Precious Godsend
My angel of hope, my gift from God

You are the closest to a constant reminder
That I should be grateful to ALLAH SWT
In every breath I take

Remember what ALLAH has blessed you with
Keep counting and nourishing His blessings 
And ALLAH willing, He will only give you more

So much more

My unconditional love and never ending prayers are with you
Forever and always

Sunday, June 22, 2014


To us.
To health and happiness.
To you and I, love.

ALLAH willing.

Wednesday, June 18, 2014

Dear Kukka: Congratulations!

Throw your graduation caps in the air!! You are now officially a first-grader!!

My SiBaiyi! 
My baby girl! 
My chubby cheeks! 
My love, my life, my love of my life!

Oh, my, it's sooo surreal! I knew you would grow up but not this fast! It seems like it was just yesterday when I took you to your first day of preschool. And now you're graduating from Kindergarten already! Next month I'll be taking you to the "big kids" class. That's how you are referring to the Primary kids. The "kaka" or the "big kids". Well, what do you know... You are a kaka now yourself, kiddo :) No, not high school yet. I don't understand why you are so eager to get to high school. Almost everyday you asked me "Am I going to high school after the holiday??" ELEMENTARY, Kukka. And then you still have to go to junior high first (THANK GOD!). 

I have so many prayers for you. Too many to write actually. So I will just keep it to myself for now and tell ALLAH all about it later :) But I do want to say something to you. Nothing new, really. You probably are bored hearing about it already. But.... Here goes...

I'm so proud of you, my darling girl. 
So so proud. I feel sooooo much pride it feels like my chest is about to explode. I'm proud of what you have achieved and what you have become. 

I love you, my precious godsend. 
So so much. I love you sooooo much it feels like I need to invent a new word for love. Because what I feel for you is so much more. 

And I am ready. I'm ready to take you to your new adventure. I'm ready to guide you whenever you need me to. I'm ready to give you hints about how to handle different types of people you're going to meet. I'm ready to show you more about life. Just don't ask me about Math. Ever. Other than that, bring it on! 

Let's have more fun, babycakes! :*

Thursday, June 12, 2014


Sometimes I wonder... 

If I stopped wishing for my dreams to come true, 
does it mean that I don’t want them anymore? 

If I stopped asking for certain things to change, 
does it mean that I don’t care if they remain the same?

If I stopped praying for better things to come, 
does it mean that I’m not scared by the bad ones?

If I stopped begging all together, 
does it mean that I’m giving up?

While my heart says, and I do think it's true...

I stop wishing because I realize that 
what I think is right for me, might not be the best for me after all. 

I stop asking because I realize that 
You know what I need, what I should have and what I should be doing.

I stop praying because I realize that 
whatever happens, it’s for my own good. 

I stop begging because I realize that 
You know I’m actually not giving up. 

I'm simply surrendering myself to You. 

Only You. 

Because it's Your love that matters
Because it's Your words that matter
Because it's Your blessing that matters

No one else's. 

Only Yours. 

Sunday, May 04, 2014

How To Break A Kid

I think the cruelest kind of people are the one who hurt children. They deserve the most terrible punishment the world has to offer. They are the most obvious cowards and they must be mentally disturbed. It’s easy to judge a person who hurt children and then leave the aftermath scars visible to the eyes. But how about people (read: parent) like me? 

A parent could never hurt her child, right? Keeping her child safe is what a mother does. Sure we can’t create a perfect world for our children and there’s no such thing as a perfect parent. But I keep telling myself “TRY. HARD.” It shouldn’t be...too hard... Should it? 

It made me thinking... About that time I yelled at my daughter just because she felt unlocking the door was hard. I accused her for not willing to try harder. And then there was a time when she saw me having a heated argument with somebody. She heard my loud and angry voice and it made her afraid. I also thought about that time when she saw me crying. I let her see the vulnerable side of me and therefore I made her really, really sad. She cried beside me. 

Because I have hurt her... 

And then there are overprotective parents, home wreckers who break up families, parents who always say yes, parents who always say no, cheaters who consciously damage their families and their children's souls, parents who give their kids everything they want, pregnant mothers who hate their unborn babies, grandmothers who say A is prettier than B, grandfathers who favor one grandchild to another, parents who push their kids and don’t accept if they’ve reached their limits. 

It’s tough being a kid. And it’s very easy to break one.