How Women Prioritize

The difference between most women and men: We women will more than often drop whatever we're doing to be with our man. Squeezing in time for our significant other is a no-brainer.

...but apparently men don't function the same way.

:(

The Food Enthusiast

Firstly, I'm no food enthusiast. I just like the sound of the word en-thoo-zee-uhst. I'm just a plain old food junkie. Well, for starters, I think I have an insatiable interest in food, which qualifies me as a junkie, particularly desserts. My boyfriend often mocks the way I passionately describe any good food I just ate. If only I could explain about my job in the same manner, my boss would be ecstatic.

For the past week, I've had several rounds of satay, chicken porridge and 'burger-tepi-jalan'. Not your healthiest choice, but since I'm feeling the pinch lately, cheap food has never tasted so good!

Enough ramblings for now. Later!

Kau Bila?? (When's Your Turn??)

It is nothing but a norm when an Asian mother (particularly this one is Malaysian) asks her unmarried 3-decade-ish-year old daughter "Do you have a boyfriend?", "Does your boyfriend want to marry you?" and in times of desperation, due to peer pressure (read: office makciks, relatives, neighbours and probably the nosy old lady who owns the sundry shop down the street) might result in the issuance of a memorandum that reads "If the current one runs off due to any circumstances, please accept the next man who asks your hand in marriage. Failure to comply will result in an ARRANGED marriage. This is your last warning. Love; Queen Mother."

Yes, I know Queen Mother only has my best interests at heart. But which man on earth would wanna marry at gunpoint, so to speak? Zilch! Neither would I, if I were a dude! Don't make me ask him, and neither should any of you. 

"Don't you wanna get married and have kids?" they wonder. Over, and over, and over again.

Sigh. Well of course I do.

If only marriage was as easy as buying pumps at Charles & Keith, don't you think I would be wrestling with a bus-load of kids I call "my children" by now? And because raising a child costs an arm and a leg nowadays, I would probably depict the life of 'The Old Woman Who Lived In A Shoe', having so many children, I wouldn't know what to do. I feed them with broth, minus the bread, and whip them them all soundly, and scream "Go straight to bed!".

The old woman is missing a husband. I'm pretty sure he ran off, obviously not with the spoon, but he definitely made an exit. Or maybe, just maybe, for the sake of positive thinkers out there, he deserves the benefit of the doubt. His absence [in this nursery rhyme] is merely because he cashed in his chips. How sad.

Anyway, steering back on course, I'm in between complaining and making a moo-point here.
People, you've got to stop throwing me the "Bila lagi?" or "Kau bila?" questions. I know not the answers.

How about making doa for me, for a change? That will definitely render some answers to your calamitous questions. :)

When They Call You Fat

Indeed, I am an emotional turd.

I am moved by the slightest acts of kindness. I become sappy every time I watch a video of a dog rescuing its owner from under a heap of rubble caused by an earthquake. My eyes glistened with tears, after watching a 12-minute video on YouTube about a former PlayBoy Bunny who embraced Islam. Her story is overwhelmingly inspiring.

I cause my nose to clog with mucus when I watch movies like The Pursuit of Happyness, Titanic, The Holiday, He's Just Not That Into You, Valentine's Day... the list goes on for a mile, but I think you already get the idea by now.

Sometimes the smallest of things throw me down in the dumps, or rile me up like Chewbacca being stabbed in the eye with a chopstick. Mockery on physical appearance get's me flipping my wig. I reach boiling point in less than 10 seconds; whether it is aimed at me or at another individual.

Apparently we live in a world that highly endorses fair porcelain skin, dimple-free thighs, washboard abs, a perfect set of pearly whites, long silky hair and having lots of junk in your trunk scores you more points, hence throwing personality to the back seat. Too often the word 'fat' or having dark skin exude a negative connotation, constantly used to revile women (well, most of the time). Sad, but true.

I'm not saying that I don't scan for eye-soothing qualities in a guy, I do, of course. But I just keep physical attributes that I don't fancy to myself (Well, I try, very hard. Sometimes it slips from my mouth, only to a close friend). OK. Go ahead, judge me. We're all judgmental, aren't we?

And I'm not implying that one shouldn't lose weight or exponentially morph into a whale. By all means, lose weight to stay healthy, to live longer, to be able to catch up with your impish grandkids when you age, but not to please the world. On a spiritual note, God doesn't care if you have a ripped body. Cliche indeed, He only sees the beauty inside His Believers. But we humans just find it very difficult to glue that holy fact to our minds.

The physical-name-calling, will there ever be an end to it? I doubt it, and that sucks. You can't stop someone from calling you fat, or fish-lips or oinky-nose. Probably they are just insecure about themselves, which resort them in mocking other people, and it makes them feel elated, in an ill-mannered way.

It's a cruel world they say, but there's always more good than bad in it.  There are more kindhearted people then there are of those with a beastly demeanor.

So, I guess I'm calling off my table-flipping agenda and celebrate those who bring joy to this world and to my life instead. Cheers to that. :)

[1:2]



 

The Art of Not Giving A Rat's Ass

If there's one thing that I should start mastering, it should be 'The Art of Not Giving A Rat's Ass."

Here's why;

I can't please everyone. 

No matter how hard you try, there will always be that one person who will give himself the liberty to underline and italicize your slightest boo boo or imperfections. He'll say it's 'constructive criticism' that should be taken with a dash of salt.

I say it's a stomach-ulcer flare-up agent.


Hey, don't get me wrong. A slice of well-delivered constructive criticism is indeed essential for one's personal growth. But ceaseless unsolicited, ill-timed constructive criticism? Tell me that doesn't feel like you've been bludgeoned with a demotivating mjolnir. Destructive criticism, more like.

If I can't pull the plug on the depressing hammer, then I should just put my iron suit on, and chant the lyrics to the song Titanium.

So Many, So Little

I haven't had the time to sit down and arrange my thoughts to be put on my blog. Too busy? Not really. I just have so many things to say. Too many events sailing in and out of my head. And so little motivation.

I hate it when ideas come flowing in while you're on the throne, or when you're chowing down that handsome burger or when you're in the middle of a butt-scorching meeting with your boss.The ideas just dissipate the moment you flush, burp and told that s(he) wants to jab you in the face all the way to Vegas for not executing the job accordingly.
 *The direct translation is "Aku nak tumbuk kau sampai Vegas." Metaphorically. So no worries.

Oh, and I left the lazy part out didn't I? Yep. I keep going on and on about not being motivated to do this or that... Damn man. Even I feel like jabbing myself in the face. That's just too many excuses for one puny matter.

So, anyway, people say that no matter how many truck-load of books you read, you still won't be able to be a great writer if you don't cough out your ideas in writing. It takes practice. And I need a lot of practice. And that sucks. Do you see the pattern here? I'm on the verge of another justification.

Well, it's 7.00am here in Kuala Lumpur, my car is still dead in the workshop, and I haven't showered yet.

Yeah, Helga. I'll tell you about that later. Probably when I'm not battling an army of evil chocolates that perennially breed and eat my candies!

The Heart, On Standby

I knew that this moment would come.

This is the moment when your heart feels like it's on the verge of cracking. It's at that familiar place again. And you're on standby mode to hit the panic button, where the walls will shoot back up again, and seal all doors.

The Little Hijrah

[ 1:1 ]

A string of things happened, and I didn't have time to update everything on my blog. Some probably too personal, and even if I tried to tell you about it, it wouldn't make utter sense anyway.

I never finished Part 2 of my little hijrah. I didn't know where to start, but since I'm at it right now, I might as well just keep it rolling, huh?

I struggled. A lot.

My prayers (solat) and my attitude towards covering up was a bit of an emotional roller coaster ride. Too many resistance at one point, but I managed to muster all of my courage and put things into place, with His help and a dear friend's encouragement, the Al-Quran became no more of a stranger to me. It's a long ride, and I'm not even half way through, but I've got Him to 'hold my hand', and I've never felt safer in my life than I am today.

Al-Hamdulillah... :)

When The Big Guy Listens...

A friend posted this on his Facebook page.

So profound.

Indeed, it's all [1:2].

:)

"Someone dear to me once said that we should always try to use our God given talent to spread His word to the masses. Maybe through songs, through pictures that we take, through whatever it is that we can use since the age where anything's possible is here and there's a lot more we can do to be closer to Him.

Never had I thought it's possible, but I realized that I can use this as a tool of conveying messages of good throughout.

It can be referring to your own religion no matter what or who you believe, it doesn't matter. It's just my own take on this. If you feel the same towards your own, then at least we share something in common. To believe.

However, people will always take it either way because that's just who we are. We've been brought up a certain way where we have sets of belief system we keep lying around to save our own hide when things get rough, or when situations presents itself to challenge our very core.

No matter what, this is just a projection of what I feel now. A little bit closer. Maybe you can relate. Maybe you don't. It doesn't matter really. What matters is you never give up on hope or faith. Because the littlest of hope can be a start of a bigger achievement in your life and in everything you do.

A trigger to be better.

Closer

When times are hard, and the cold is just too much to bear,
You held on tight and You showed how much You cared,
I didn't see it, I didn't want to believe,
Even if it hits, Even if it wasn't brief.

I was alone, I felt left,
Lies was sown, Heart bereft,
But You were there, You didn't leave,
Through the nightmare, even through the rift.

I refused and I retaliated,
Situations diffused and events documented,
But You kept on track, You were always around,
Kept pulling me back, keeping me safe and sound.

At times I felt it, I sensed Your presence,
Refused it, Rejected the essence,
But You kept on going, You showed persistence,
Even what I was doing, displayed much resistance.

Now I see, now I understand,
You've set me free, You've changed this man,
Plenty more to go, plenty more to learn,
To reap what You've sowed, to believe and finally return."

A Little Prayer For You

Dear God,

The progress is beyond my expectations. :')

Thank you again for listening.

...and thank you for surrounding me with your best angels.


:)


So much Love;
Maylin

Me; The Bouncing Potato

I started mildly hyperventilating as soon as I drove into the car park. I prayed to God for 'coolness' and a tablespoon of confidence. (Really? Tablespoon? I'm pretty sure it was a big mixing bowl of confidence that I prayed for.)

The last thing I want is to act like a clutz.

I went straight to the restroom to check my hair.
And my teeth.
And my make-up.
...and my bum.
Well, you see, the back of my skirt of the dress I was wearing suddenly skimmed upwards. I knew it. The dress shrank! That darn detergent.

I said a little prayer as I walked towards the place. I swear to God, my heart popped out of my chest, made a loop-de-loop and bounced right back into my rib cage.

I arrived.

...and I saw sunshine.

We exchanged smiles, and said "Hi!"
No wait. I said "Hi!" and waved like a retarded bouncing potato. He just smiled back and did the hand gesture that celebrities do when a smitten fan waves frantically at them. You know that 'power-of-the-hand' partial-wave people do when you give them way on the road. Yes, that!
That partial-wave and awkward grin made my freaking day.

*facepalm*

So uncool.
So.
Very.
'So-very-the' we Malaysians love to say.



Damn. My armpits are wet.

Oh God, What Did I Just Recite To You?

Al-Hamdulillah, I no longer find it difficult to perform my solat/prayers to The Almighty. There was even a time I find it hard to even say the word 'Al-Hamdulillah', because it felt so Hijabster-esque. I can list down a train of shallow things about the old me, but that isn't the main point of this post.

Imagine talking to God in alien language, that makes no sense to you at all. Weird, no? Talking to another person in a language that sounds gibberish to you, is also utterly crazy, right? How am I supposed to connect with Him if I don't understand jack about what I'm reciting?

Knowing the meaning of our daily prayers will enable us to feel more humble when we face Him, The Almighty Creator.

Google never failed me. Here's the beautiful words of the Solat:

Make the intention of praying then raise hands to ears and say:
Allaahu akbar

Allah is the greatest!

Subhaana Kal-lah hum-ma wabi hamdika watha-baara kasmuka watha'aala jad-duka walaa ilaaha ghayruk.

Glory be to you, O Allah, and all praises are due unto you, and blessed is your name and high is your majesty and none is worthy of worship but you.

A'udhu bil-laahi minash Shaythaa-nir-rajeem

I seek Allah's protection from Satan who is accursed.

Bismillaah hir-Rahmaa nir-Raheem

In the name of Allah, the most Kind and the most Merciful.

Alhamdul lil-laahi rab-bil 'aalameen
Ar rahmaa nir-raheem
Maaliki yawmid-deen
Iyyaa-ka na'budu wa iyyaa-ka nasta'een
Ihdinas siraatal mustaqeem
Siraatal Ladheena an'amta 'alayhim
Ghay-ril maghdubi 'alayhim
Walad daal-leen. Ameen

Translation:

Praise is only for Allah, Lord of the Universe.
The most Kind, the most Merciful.
The master of the Day of Judgement.
You alone we worship and to you alone we pray for help.
Show us the straight way,
The way of those whom you have blessed.
Who have not deserved your anger,
Nor gone astray.

We can pray any Surah after reciting Surah Faatiha above, as long as it is a minimum of 3 verses or one long verse. The following is a short and popular Surah situated towards the end of the Qur'an called Surah Al Ikhlas:

Qul huwal laahu ahad.
Allaah hus-Samad.
Lam yalid walam yoolad.
Walam yakul-lahu Kufuwan ahad.

Say: He is Allah, the only one.
Allah helps and does not need help.
He does not produce a child, and He was not born of anyone.
There is no one equal to Him.

Subhaana Rabbi'al Azeem

"Glory to my Lord the Exalted".

Sami Allaahu Liman Hamidah

“Allah listens to him who praises Him"

Rabbanaa lakal Hamd

"Oh our Lord, all praise is to you".

Subhaana Rabbi yal A'alaa

"Oh Allah glory be to you, the most high."

AthahiyyaatuLillahi Was Salawaatu Wattayyibatu Assalamu Alaika Ayyuhannabi 'yu 'Warahmatullaahi Wabarka'tuhu Assalamu Alaina Wa'alaa'Ibaadillaahis Saa'liheen, Ash'had'u'Allahaa ilaha illallahu Wa Ash'hadu Anna Muhammadun Abd'uhu Wa Rasooluh

All compliments, all physical prayer and all monetary worship are for Allah.
Peace be upon you, Oh Prophet, and Allah's mercy and blessings.
Peace be on us and on all righteous slaves of Allah.
I bear witness that no one is worthy of worship except Allah
And I bear witness that Muhammad is His slave and Messenger

Allaahumma Salleh Alaa Muhammadin Wa'alaa' Aale Muhammadin Kama Sallaiyta Alaa Ibraheema Wa' Alaa Aale Ibraheema InnakaHameedum Majeed 

Allaahumma Baarak Alaa Muhammadin Wa' Alaa Aale Muhammadin Kama Baarakta Alaa Ibraheem Wa' Alaa Aale Ibraheema Innaka Hameedum Majeed

Oh Allah, send grace and honour on Muhammad and
On the family and true followers of Muhammad
just as you sent Grace and Honour on Ibrahim
and on the family and true followers of Ibrahim
Surely, you are praiseworthy, the Great.

Oh Allah, send your blessing on Muhammad and
the true followers of Muhammad, just
as you sent blessings on Ibrahim
and his true followers
Surely, you are praiseworthy, the Great.

Assalamu Alai'kumWarah'matullaah

“Peace and mercy of Allah be on you".

[ Taken from http://www.sunniforum.com/forum/showthread.php?38303-The-translation-of-salat-(namaz) ]


Here's a cute and comical version in Bahasa Malaysia: http://www.silampuneon.com/2012/04/makna-bacaan-dalam-solat.html

Good Deed Gone Wrong

A good deed you did lacks nobility the moment you announce it to the whole world.

I guess it depends on your intention too.

A Thought. Just A Thought.

"The worst feeling is when someone makes you feel special, then suddenly leaves you hanging, and you have to act like you don't care at all..."

- Twitter Quotes -

Falling In

"I don't think I've fallen in love again. I think I've never actually fallen out of it."

Move Along

Third time's a charm?

I'm not sure if I want to risk it this round.

I'll just leave it as it is.

Because I'm chicken shit. Yup, that's what I am in this particular department.

Perfect In Your Imperfections

Like Chandler Bing with a dollop of Shaggy Rogers, dipped in charm and dropped into a bowl of goofiness.

Made to perfection.

Go Away, Please.

There's this Malay idiom that goes "Pisang takkan berbuah dua kali," and I somehow believe in it. But a friend recently told me, "Tu pisang Maylin, ini orang. Lain."  There's also some truth to that. 

*sigh*

I thought it would be gone for good after 3 years.

Goddammit, it's still there. Rooted, apparently.

So, it has always been there... for three solid years. 

The Queen of Denial knows best how to fake it. 

The Queen of Denial is a prowess at saying "Nothing's going on." 

Very true. 

Nothing's going on - on the exterior. But something's definitely going on - on the interior; in that heart of yours, May. 

So, whatcha gonna do about it Maymay? What?

What I do best... Hide it. Because exposing it will just break it into pieces. 

As a matter of fact, I can hear my heart breaking right now.

What Feels Right Can Be Just Wrong

Some people say when it feels right, it's right.

But what if you're the only one who feel it's right, and he doesn't, then it's technically wrong, right?

And what if something that is theoretically right, feels so wrong to you? Is it still right?

Maylin did it again. Thongs in a twist as always.

Why?

Why do we always like the person who doesn't like us back?

And why can't we like the other person who likes us, the same way?

Ironic, no?