A Letter To My Soul Brother.

Dearest Mad,

I remember clearly when we first met. I was upset after breaking off with my boyfriend at the time. You and I were both 18 and studying at KDU. Right from the beginning, you were distinctly different from the rest of the guys in the college. While others were judging me by my reputation, you were sincere in your friendship and never questioned why I was the way I was. You really saw me as who I am.

Throughout the years, our friendship deepened to a new level. We became soul siblings. Our living arrangements, you living and working in Penang and me in KL, made our hearts more fond of one another. We kept in touch with each other and never allowed the geographical distance to be an obstacle to our friendship. We wrote letters back and forth while I was studying in Swansea. When I returned to KL, you thought nothing of making an effort to look for me just so that we could catch up and update each other with what was going on in each of our lives.

You would drive down to KL from Penang at a drop of a hat, just to come to my Hari Raya open house. You would, without fail, call me on my birthday to sing to me "Happy Birthday" followed by words of appreciation of our long lasting friendship. You would always wrap it all up with a prayer for me, that I'd be happy and loved. You always made sure I felt happy and loved. Whenever the world seemed hostile and ugly to me, I knew for certain that you were always in my corner. You never left any room for my doubts or insecurities to creep in. You made sure I believe that we were always gonna be there for each other.

Our marriages to our respective spouses only magnified and enlarged the love shared between us. We even absorbed each other into the lives of our respective siblings and their families. Our friendship had produced a huge extended family unit. You became a part of my family, and I yours.

On the morning of 4th of January 2008, I received a call from your sister's phone. It was her husband, Dzuhari. He asked if it was me on the phone. I confirmed it, although my head was still foggy from just 2 hours of sleep. He mumbled something and mentioned your name. I couldn't make out what he was saying. My head was still blurry. And then his words hit me. "Mad dah tak dak. He passed away an hour ago." I was shocked to silence. And then I felt the tightness in my chest progress up to a lump in my throat and then I heard myself screaming, "NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Not Mad!! No! No!! This is not true!!" I refused to believe this atrociousness. After he filled me in with the family's plans to drive up to Penang, I quietly thanked him for informing me and I ended the call.

The things that I did immediately following that call is still a pandemonium of recollections. My denial was the only thing that kept me from collapsing. I steely called Jasmene who was sending Jc and Lissa to school. I heard myself telling him about your death. And that was when I broke into pieces. I am broken. When he returned, Jasmene immediately came to hold me. But at that moment, what I needed most was another call. A call from you telling me that it was all a mistake. But that call never came. I am still waiting.

Jasmene, being the strong one, made all the necessary arrangements for us to make our way to Penang as soon as possible. I called my mom and asked her to handle Jc and Lissa who were in school. We handed her the keys to our house, packed an overnight bag and sped to KLIA to buy a flight ticket.

As I stood at your doorstep, I could see Fairoz, your sister, sitting there crying. She looked at me, as if in a daze. In a flash, she was hugging me and we were both crying in each other's arms. She invited me into your house and there you were, on a bed in the middle of the living room, covered in kain batik and your face covered with a white cloth. Za, your eldest sister said to me, "Come see Mad, Ana. Come give him a kiss..." The moment she lifted the white cloth that veiled your face, my knees gave way. I broke into an inconsolable bawl. I literally felt my heart shatter to smithereens.

I braved myself to really look at your face. You looked as if you were sleeping. You had a smile on your face. I was half expecting you to sit and say, " Awat? Terkejut kaa..? Hahahahhahahaa..." I was expecting you to be the joker and prankster that you're known to be and loved for. I lowered my face to kiss your forehead. Your forehead felt cold to my lips.

Your siblings made sure Jasmene and I were included in all the preparations for your funeral. Jasmene was asked to participate in giving you your last bath. I was asked to lay some flowers and camphor mix inside your burial cloth. There was not a single dry eye in the house that day. Everything went very well, right from the beginning till the end.

I felt a wreaking pain in my chest as I heard your Talqin being recited to you. I opened my palms skyward, pleading and praying to Allah that He'll bless your soul, forgive your sins, widen your grave, spare you from torture and punishment of barzakh and hell fire. And when the crowd began to slowly leave the cemetary, I sat by your grave and said my goodbyes.

Mad, I'm sorry I never got to say how much you really mean to me. I never got to really thank you for all the wonderful things you have said and done. I never got to apologize for any wrong doings I may have unintentionally done onto you. There's so much more that I never got to say to you, although deep down I know you already know it. I can still hear you talking to me in my head. I can still see your smiling cheeky face in my eyes. I told myself that I know for sure that your death has changed me forever. But soon after, I heard your voice in my head saying, " Ana, janganlah berubah banyak sangat. Sat gi Mad tak kenai.."

Don't worry about your beloved wife, Jee. Jasmene and I promise to shower her with your portion of our love, friendship and loyalty. We will take care of her. Same goes for your whole family. Zah, Khalid, Latif, Bod, Zee, Bear, Fairoz, Hanim and all the other members of your family have embraced my family and I into their wonderful and loving arms. We will continue to maintain everything beautiful that you have created during your lifetime.

I am hopeful that there will come a day when my grief is replaced by something beautiful. I don't know if the dead can return to this earth and move about unseen by those who loved them, but if they can, then I know that you will always be with us. You are not gone forever. You are standing with Allah, alongside my soul, helping to guide me toward a future I cannot predict.

This is not a goodbye, Mad. This is a thank you. Thank you for coming into my life and giving me joy, thank you for loving me and receiving my love in return. Thank you for the memories I will cherish forever. But most of all, thank you for letting your death show me how to really live. To live good and well.

My birthdays will no longer be the same without your calls and birthday songs. I shall always miss you.

I love you, Mad. My soul brother, my friend.

Al Fatihah for Mohammad Abdul Rahman Zubaidi
2nd June 1965 - 4th January 2008.



A preamble to the beauty my soul brother had brought into my life
Please feel free to leave a comment in honor of his memory and let us all celebrate his life.

Yada-Yada Sisterhood

On the first day of the new year, my soul sister, and I decided to invite our much loved baby soul sister, Laton, to our very first Perjumpaan Vagina Monologue. The purpose of this gathering is mainly to celebrate and give full support to the wonderfulness of being women, wives and mothers while successfully (and most of the time, painfully) juggling our personal and professional lives.

We started chattering upon arrival at Wa's place, while beautifully setting the table for a wonderful "english weather" tea party, aptly furnished with scones, jam and butter. We laughed at each other's discovery of how similar (and dissimilar) we are to our mothers in the way we go about being wives and mothers in our own right.

Although the spread was hardly world class cuisine, the company made the treats extra special. It was laced with laughter and interspersed with wisdom shared. The cool rainy weather failed to dampen our spirits to rejoice and enjoy each other's love. Truly, the love of a sisterhood is beyond words and comparison.

We realize that the road to happiness is sometimes bumpy with challenges, misty with the tears of frustration, and scary with the unknown and unexpected. We also realize that we are women: the gender that Allah has chosen to bestow the gift of birth. Through our wombs, He brings forth His creations. Indeed, we are the blessed ones. For we are the ones with Rahiim.

Measure of a Man

Martin Luther King once said, "The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy." On the other hand, Sidney Poitier explains that his father always said that the true measure of a man was how well he provided for his children. When I ponder on the quotes of these two great men, I am reminded of how privileged I am to have someone who measures up to both these standards.. my grandfather, Tan Sri Abdul Aziz Bin Mohd Zain.

When I was a child, he was like Santa Claus to me. Every time my birthday comes near, he would prop me on his lap and gently ask me what my heart desired. From garden swings, tricycles and toys to my first walkman, chopper bicycles and holidays abroad. Although he was the only family member that I know who was affluent, I never felt a need or a want for anything. He made sure that I had a little taste or experience of luxury and opulence. After my parents' divorce, he took it upon himself to be there for my brothers and I. We were never his responsibility. And there are some quarters who would add that we are not his heir. Yet, his loving concern and care for us is so astounding. I wonder sometimes what goes on his mind, what he is thinking of when he looks at me.

He believed in my intelligence way before it showed on my academic achievement records. He thought nothing of coughing up the bucks to sponsor my studies in private colleges when I failed to meet the requirements of the more established universities. Even after I flunked my first A Levels, he didn't give up hope. He pulled all the contacts and cables that he had and sent me to Swansea for a second try at A Levels. He even sent me on a 'gap year' holiday in Europe because he believes that the best university to learn from is the university of Life!

He believed I was going to fulfill his dreams for me to become a lawyer, following his footsteps. He was devastated when I dropped out of my law studies. Yet, he swelled with pride when I financed my own education in Counseling Psychology at a local university. It took a while for him to understand that I can never be him. I can only be me. As disappointing I may have been for him, he continued to love and support me. And now, he proudly introduces me to his friends as his granddaughter who is a counseling psychologist. He truly motivates me to go as far as I can.

I've seen him rise from the ashes of failures. I've seen him work hard to see his own dreams come true. He lives passionately and he does this with dignity, integrity and self-respect. Where others, myself included, fail to see any reason for him to care and love for me; he does. He sees me as who I really am. I can never make him proud of me. Why? Because he already is. He was proud of me long before I found my self-worth.

He may be a stubborn man to some. I choose to see it as his determination. He is loving in his ways, sincere in his actions and inspiring in his achievements. These are all the reasons why I truly believe that my grandfather is right up there, with Dr. King and Mr. Poitier.

May Allah bless you always, Wan. I love you.

Grey Wisdom

"First do no harm, easier said than done. We can take all the oaths in the world, but the fact is, most of us do harm all the time. Sometimes even when we're trying to help, we do more harm than good. And then the guilt rears its ugly head. What you do with that guilt is up to you. We're left with a choice. Either let the guilt throw you back into the behavior that got you into trouble in the first place, or learn from the guilt and do your best to move on."

-by Dr Meredith Grey, from Grey's Anatomy

The more I watch this series and get dished with these kind of pearls of wisdom, the more I feel like the writers of this series are watching my every move and listening into my every thought from a very remote location... like Jim Carrey's character in Truman, lah.... Paranoia? Or just simply guilt?

To Be The Best

A few years ago, my meandering mind got hit by a bolt of thundering idea. I wanted to be the best in something. However, I was gobsmacked by the echoing question that ensued, "Be the best? In what?"

Lets see now.... I tried law, but dropped out of law school. Tried interior design, but the competition was too impossible for my humanitarian aquarian nature. I did become a professional singer but my perfectionism prevented me from being satisfied with my voice and performances. Now I am a counseling psychologist and I have yet a long way towards becoming a leading figure in this field.

At this point of muse, I found myself stuck in a quagmire. If I were to wriggle myself further into this puzzle, I know I will sink in deeper into a self inflicted despair. I know I score an average B- in being a wife to my husband and mother to my girls (This is my critical and judgmental self speaking here...). Where else, how else can I excel?

People say that a healthy competition is good. But then again, I never really believed in measuring myself by other people's yardsticks. So, how did I land myself in this predicament? Why do I need to be the best in something?

Honestly, that bolt of thundering idea came about just a few years before I turned 40. I guess I must have looked at my life and wondered where had it all gone to. What have I got to show for the years that I have lived? What achievements have I got to be proud of?

Which brings me to my latest light bulb moment. I can never be the best in something if I am opposed to measuring myself to others. Everyone is unique in their own way and its unfair to compare anyone with anybody. So, I have decided to be the best ME that I can be. After all, I do have the corner market on being me. Not even the paper dolls can impersonate me!

So, fake Johana Joharis... Move aside! Here is the real McCoy!! Ain't nothing but the real thang, baby. That's what I am. The best Me. As for the specs, well... Let my life say it all. Just watch. I'll show you. However, a word of warning... don't try being anyone else but yourself. because if you do, you'll fail. We can only be ourselves.

Note To Self: Make Peace

"The commitment to morality, or non-harming, is a source of tremendous strength, because it helps free the mind from the remorse of having done unwholesome actions. Freedom from remorse leads to happiness. Happiness leads to concentration. Concentration brings wisdom. And wisdom is the source of peace and freedom in our lives."

- by Joseph Goldstein, in A Heart Full of Peace.

People Are Not Loving And Loyal All The Time

Some people act dishonestly; some lie; some are hypocritical. part of growing up psychologically and spiritually is noticing all this but without censure or retaliation. We do not willingly allow others to be dishonest or hurtful toward us if we can prevent it. If they are, we ask for amends. If all we do fails, we let go. If those we respect as teachers or models turn out to be hypocrites in their personal lives, that does not diminish the legitimacy of their teaching. An adult knows that the teachings are the teacher. The person who teaches is only a mouthpiece, and a piece is hardly ever perfect. I appreciate the ferry ride even when the ferryman proves to be a rascal.

Sometimes people keep their promises and sometimes they do not. Sometimes people love us loyally and faithfully, even unconditionally. Sometimes they hate, reject, abandon or betray us. An adult has learned to take all this in stride. We feel the pain, but it does not devastate or destabilize us. We receive love with openness and appreciation. We receive loyalty with gratitude. We handle betrayal with the strength we gained from our psychological work. We let go of retaliation and act with compassion thanks to our spiritual practices. We do not want to be so strongly affected by what others do that we lose our own ability to love, which is all that matters to us now.

Our spiritual practice of loving-kindness toward all beings helps us join this tougher skin to a tender heart. This is how hurts help us find our own potential for unconditional love and unconditional compassion. People do things that injure us, but later we realize that was how they pushed us through a gate in ourselves that we never guesses was there. The hurt we felt was the sensation of being pushed.

We may distinguish two kinds of hurt: intentional and consequent. Intentional hurt happens when people leave us in a cruel and thoughtless way. This leads us to feel sorrow, and in spiritual consciousness, we feel this pain without plan to retaliate. Consequent hurt happens as the natural and inevitable result of events and reasonable choices. For example, our partner ends out relationship in a kind and respectful way. We both tried our best but the relationship was not meant to be. We feel hurt, but this is consequent hurt, not intentional hurt, and it leads to grief and moving on.

Sometimes we hurt others. If we do so intentionally, we experience guilt, the built-in signal that helps us know that it is time to make amends. If hurt happens as a result of a legitimate choice, such as leaving an unhealthy relationship, we do not blame ourselves. We find ways to leave with kindliness, not acrimony, and we remain available to share in our partner's grieving for however long that may be appropriate.

When others do not acknowledge us or they snub, reject or ignore us, it is perfectly natural to feel hurt, since we are made of penetrable stuff. We should allow ourselves to feel the hurt rather than run from it, If we feel the hurt more intensely than seems to fit the bill, we may want to examine ourselves and ask if our ego has reared its demanding head. If so, we can look at our FACE in the mirror and say:

Fear: I am afraid that I will not survive if everyone does not love me, and this is how I am a source of suffering to myself
Attachment: I am attached to a very specific version of what I am owed, and this is how I am a source of suffering to myself.
Control: I need to control others' reactions to me, and this is how I am a source of suffering to myself.
Entitlement: I believe I am entitled to love and loyalty from everyone and insist on it, and this is how I am a source of suffering to myself.

I am letting go of fear by showing more love and finding excitement in life's challenges.
I am letting go of attachment to my version of how others should act and I accept the given of life that not everyone will be lovin, truthful, honest, caring, or loyal to me all the time.
I am letting go of control and let others love or dislike me as they choose.
I am letting go of my insistence that I be loved and respected by everyone, and choose to focus instead on being loving and respectful toward everyone I meet. That is what matters to me now.
I am always aware that I also am not loving and loyal all the time and I am working on that.

- Excerpt from The Five Things We Cannot Change... and the Happiness We Find by Embracing Them by David Richo.