Food Porn ep. 1

I am not a natural in the kitchen. I overspice, undercook, I bump into things, and I take forever to get things done. Sometimes the result is fabulous - like the time I made BBQ pizza from scratch; most of the times, not so. I don't even mind receiving frank soundbites of my bad cooking; as long as it is constructive criticsm. Inspired by a Julie & Julia trailer, I've decided to post the short, sticky & sweet of my culinary misadventures. With pictures.

12 November 2009:
I'd decided to make breakfast. Sardine sambal with Habanero peppers with eggs and sausages, served with slices of garlic toasts. It wasn't half bad. Mama warned me not to include the pepper pips in the sambal as it was sweat-inducing, but being the kitchen scientist that I was; I did so anyways to delicious, albeit risque consequences. Damn pedas weyh!







The short, sticky & sweet review: 500 Days Of Summer

No one has succeeded in revealing to me the wisdom of why sometimes, 'things happen' the way Marc Webb has in 500 Days Of Summer. Tom and Summer will be a delicate, heartbreaking guided tour to your own loves, loss, and self-revelation. 500 stars given, if not more.


redemption

Today Shaiful Nizam Jaaffar sent me a forwarded Raya text message with the pre packaged 'mohon ampun maaf dari hujung rambut ke hujung kaki'. I did tell myself this year that if he asked, I will forgive him. How he asked for it would be irrelevant. I do not have the right to be so choosy as I myself depend on Allah and others' grace to live in in peace and in barakah.
"Years passed and u have not asked for forgiveness frm me,and thus I have not grantd u any.None of wht happnd bt mostly of hw u dealt w thgs,the time I needd support whn my best friend was dying & had passed, the time i wishd u well to non-replies, the avoidance to gv me peace by being kind (whc I seek many times b4 bt xlonger need frm u).I told myself ths year wud b the year I truly forgv u if u asked & tho a forwadd sms might seem lame & insuffcient,the time is now or never.I forgive u,Shaiful Nizam Jaafar.Pls forgive my wrongdoings as well.Selamat Hari Raya Maaf Zahir Batin to u,ur wife & ur family."

"Then i seek 4 ur 4giveness, for i hv sinned n forsaken u at d worst times imaginable. It does not make me sleep any better knwing dat i became d very person i wud despise. U hv d rite not to ever forgive, but i appreciate ur kindness 2 b willing to d contrary. Thank u."

"Well i didnt make it easy for u either, n it was easy to mistaken my well wishes, my need for closure or my need for support frm u (i deemed u my close fren tho we broke up back then) as post breakup relapses.frgv me for i was spiteful these past 2 years,i dpend on ur grace as well to live in barakah.know tht in my heart i only ever wantd is for a friend to be happy,whc m glad dat u r.sleep well frm nw on to know tht i am happy as well. n nw dat i am at peace,evn more so."

"And for that,i thank u. Hv a blessed syawal wif ur loved ones, old fren. Im grateful dat u cud find it in ur heart to still consider me in ur well wishes, Sleep tight farina."

"Likewise,shaiful. likewise :-)"

It feels as if I have finally broken into the surface after almost two years of being trapped under a frozen lake. Forgiving and to be forgiven certainly floods your heart with such relief.

a blessing's worth





We sometimes forget to count our blessings. Once in awhile I would mention casually, or spitefully depending on my disposition that day; how my friends' parents would lavish on them or how I rarely received anything posh from my Mama and Abah. I would complain how I had to work for everything that I wanted since I was very young.

During these selfish ramblings I forget that both my parents are free lancers who try their best to keep the household afloat and comfortable every. single. day. Abah designs and renovate houses if he's lucky enough to get a contract at his age. After so many years struggling to make ends meet he looks at everything as far too expensive and wasteful. Mama teaches, tutors, translates and does everything you could imagine to get us by.

Today is my birthday. I didn't expect much from my parents, perhaps a homemade card like last year. When I woke up this morning, I found a card and a gift wrapped box with a small, pink Post-It note on the side. I quickly tore the edges of the gift wrapper - this would be a first after so many years of doing without.

Inside was a watch. And I told my mom if I wanted to buy a watch, it would be a nice, expensive piece; for watches should be made to last.

It was an Esprit, a brand I had outgrown at 24.

I sobbed by myself on the bed as I knew, one watch like this would've costed my Mama a month worth of bills, or perhaps a few weeks of groceries. I went outside to see Mama at the computer desk, translating as if it was her passion (and Mama never does things half-baked. Never.)

I hugged my Mama from behind and smothered her neck in tears. I mumbled thank yous and sorrys and thank yous in between hicks and sniffles.

"It's okay, there was some extra,"

Mama said.


Moonwalking

I'm at work, but since my dateline is tomorrow, and I've already lost my mind to the wind, I'd like to take a breather, or a huffer puffer in between. Today I drove on my own to work. Though my friend ala cubicle neighbour is probably barfing green vomit on the inside from my mundane, redundant tales of first time driving, I excuse my own enthusiasm for this fresh endeavor of mine.

You see, I was and still am terrified about driving. Well maybe not terrified anymore, but it still makes me sweaty-nervous. So after weeks of supervised driving, I was finally left to fend my own steering, albeit reluctantly by my paranoid Abah.

Mama called me at the office this morning.

"Were there any incidents?"

"No, alhamdulillah"

"Alhamdulillah. Good. Congratulations!"

Abah called slightly later on to remind me to not go into the wrong lane on the way back. You'd think I was handling an airplane.

Mama told me:

"Some people are just natural at it (driving)...you, however, are not. But it's okay,"

And while I gripped my steering wheel and muttered istighfar throughout my route to work, I had to convince myself

It's okay. I'll get through this. I'll make it.

When I changed my gear to 'P', it felt like I've just landed on the moon.

That's one small step for Farina, one giant leap for errr...Farina.








Senyum saya untuk Awak

I baru je balik dari kelas Masters. Make up pon tak buang lagi. Ya Allah, I tak tau lah ape masalahnye I rasa I memang rather blog time yam (yam = keladi = suck, sebab ape-ape perisa keladi selain keladi in itself sucks) daripada time happy. Bila I happy, biar lah time travelling ke, time makan food sedap gila babi or hey hey hey, time in love, I tak teringin pon nak write anything. Bila I happy, I senyum sorang-sorang. Kalau iman I tip top mase tu, maybe I akan ingat Tuhan and sebut "alhamdulillah". Bila I tengah yaaam habis, I takkan nak nangis sorang-sorang? Macam pathetic je. Macam pointless pon ade gak. So what the fuck lah kan suka hati I lah kan nak blog time sucks and toya and bukan time terbang ala-ala nak tulis food review Tom Yam mana sedap, or buat travel log hari tu pergi Bali or buat poem banyak-banyak pasal cinta hati. I don't work that way, baby. Sekarang ni, I ya alif mim, YAM!

Kenapa I nak yam? Kenapa weyh, kenapa?
Sebab I benci perasaan di mana I tension, I sampai bilik tidur I yang serba besar, pink and berhabuk and I tekan-tekan handphone K8001 I yang tak berape nak canggih and realize, I tak boleh call sesiapa to tell them "You know what? My day sucked today."

And dalam imaginasi Spongebob Squarepants I, I buat dialog dengan manusia yang tak pernah nak wujud (for now):

manusia: Lah...kenapa suck?
I: No reason, it just did.
manusia: Awww come on. Let's talk about anything you want.

And then manusia tu and I akan bercakap-cakap sampai I feel better. Don't take me wrong, I tak desperate nak boyfriend. Dulu I tak ada boyfriend, tapi I ada Ayun. Dia buat I gelak, kadang-kadang I buat dia gelak. Kadang-kadang we'll talk about nothing at all. Like the time dia cerita pasal kebenciannye kepada lembu Rembau dan 'chocolate eclairs' mereka yang bersepah di atas jalan raya, dan eventually di tayar keretanya. Benda-benda bodoh, yang bisa buat hari I terang.

Sekarang ni, semua best pren best pren I telah berpunya, ber'bunga' and whatever shiz. Buatpe diorang nak dengar kisah tragis hari murung best pren perempuan mereka (yang memang terkenal dengan jiwa kacau serba random) yang tak bersebab? Relevan ke?

Buatpe I nak burden Mama dengan masalah semut? Takde kerja ke? Apakan lagi si Abah.

Kenapa bila I scroll number-number kat handphone I, takde sorang pon yang I rasa akan paham? Sebab memang diorang takkan paham. Sebab dunia ni, tuan punya badan yang punya, kan. Kubur pon asing-asing, kata orang Melayu. But I tau and I pasti, ada juga orang yang pernah terdetik rasa macam I.

Pernah nangis sorang-sorang sampai bantal tu lembap?


Pernah rasa sepi?


Pernah rasa macam nak connect with someone tapi tak dapat? Macam kita ni sekeping jigsaw yang hilang dari bekasnya. Macam mana nak paksa muat with puzzles we don't belong to.

Itu yang I rasa. Kalau itu apa yang awak rasa jugak, then mungkin awak puzzle yang ada sedikit ruang berbentuk saya. Dan dengan itu, I extend myself through this digital space and touch your hand. Kita sama-sama sepi, and ironically, that makes us whole. Ini semua ayat-ayat menyedapkan hati, tapi awak, kalau ayat-ayat bodoh ni boleh sedapkan hati kita, I say why not.

Mana tau, blog ini pengakhiran segala rasa ini. Senyum saya untuk awak, malam ini dan malam-malam seterusnya.

Ya Al-Musawwir, The Shaper of Beauty. Praise be to You, My Lord.

Just a few weeks ago I found out I had to attend a training of the ESQ kind, which in case you were wondering stands for Emotional Spiritual Quotient. I remember clearly the first time I heard of it in the teacher's lounge early 2008, though it was brief and I had no idea what the teachers were talking about, the discussion remained in my memory. Though I failed to capture everything that was said, the gist of it was that it was "bagus untuk spiritual" that it was "emotional spiritual" and that it was "mahal". Come to think of it, I don't think it was mere coincidence when I overheard of this random course, managed to get it imprinted in my brain, and was all excited when I received an e-mail saying that as a staff of SWS, it was compulsory for me to go. For the first time in my life, (though I've said it far too many times before) I have discovered what it means to feel blessed.

There are two reasons for this particular entry. The first one, is that at long last I had gained spiritual awakening. I felt as if I've been in deep sleep the past years of my adult life. For this, I must write it down lest I forget. The second, is that I find it due to share it with anyone who is willing. To produce a review of the whole training course will be besides the point, I wish only to describe the spiritual highlights of the three days spent getting to know My Lord, Al-Hadi, He who provides guidance.

The night before training brought a many strange and splendid things. I do not know whether it was only me, may I warn you I am a dreamer just as much as I am a perceiver of little things. It could have just been the heightening of my senses, or it could have been more. Allah knows. As I was waiting for a taxi in front of STAR LRT Ampang, I was suddenly very aware of the moody, tourmaline sky. As I looked up...Masya Allah...a cloud was twirling inwards like a single curl of a little girl, like the mixture of foam and cappuccino in a cup. It curled inwards for a few moments before it finally melded into itself and was shaped like a regular cloud. I was a little freaked out at first, amazement followed suit, then I had an urge to smile indulgently at such subtle artistry. As I did, a forceful yet gentle wind came high-fiving all the trees in front of me. The trees swayed softly left and right like a row of happy drunkards returning the favour. That moment moved mountains in my heart. I realized God was there. He has always been. Always.

Demi matahari dan sinarnya di pagi hari..
Demi bulan apabila ia mengiringi..
Demi siang hari bila menampakkan dirinya..
Demi malam apabila ia menutupi..

Demi langit beserta seluruh binaannya..
Demi bumi serta yang ada di hamparannya..
Demi jiwa dan seluruh penyempurnaannya..

Allah mengilhamkan sukma kefasikan dan ketaqwaan…
Beruntung bagi yang mensucikan-Nya…
Merugi bagi yang mengotori-Nya…

( QS Asy-Syamsy)

When I first experienced this achingly beautiful poetry (or so I thought) during the beginning of the course, I fell in love with it. Was I in for a pleasant surprise. It was indeed a Surrah. At that moment I knew I was missing out. Wouldn't you feel betrayed by yourself if in all this while you did not realize that ultimate aesthetics and revelation had been hidden in a page, in that Book glazed rough with dust in your shelf? One Surrah that locks the creation of the Universe and the meaning of your existence in such ode, while I was busy quoting Emo.

I remembered moments where I put faced my palms in prayer in the dark, and it suddenly dawned to me that I am a slave, only begging for mercy. Yet infinite love has been given to this sorry slave. I was born a Muslim, though I did not ask to be given such privilege. This to me was ultimate grace, from Ar-Ra'uf, He who is Most Kind. I felt drops of wet repentance on the tips of my fingers as I bowed with relevance, this time. This time, I did not bow because childhood and growing up had taught me this was a sign of piousness. I bowed because, I submitted. Some of my regret, I was able to taste and it was salty as tears have always been.

I remembered flashes of different things as I prayed. I remembered moments where I screamed in anger at my mother, disregarded my father, insulted my brother. I remembered selfishness, I remembered disrespect. I remembered maksiat with detest. I remembered countless of times I have lived my days purposely not performing my solat in protest over all the sadness and frustration in my life. I remembered Ayun's pale yellow face against Kapan. I remembered holding Piji's hand while he coughed the last time I saw him. I remembered my late brother's cheeky smile, the one that matched mine. All of this made me cry, but none touched me as deep as when I remembered turning my back against Allah for forsaking me. I sobbed so hard when I realized, all the nights I dampened my pillows, these nights when I felt completely alone and unloved...no one could hear me but He. No one could ever understand me but Al-Muhaymin, The Guardian Who watches over and Protector of all things. How could I have thought I was abandoned when He was there with me all this time?

I also discovered my ignorance of the Rasulullah, peace be upon him. I ask myself, how do you love a stranger? Indeed he was a stranger to me, but it is only caused by my own doing. This was a man who bled for me, fought wars for me, asked for a lighter load on my shoulders while he was still alive, and will ask for amnesty for me in the Afterlife. Rasulullah does not know me yet he devoted his life so that I may get a shot at Paradise. A man of such and yet I could not spare him any tears. When the speaker ended the story of The Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) with "Ummati...Ummati...Ummati." (my people...my people...my people.) as his last words before passing, I cried for a Rasul who for the longest time was a stranger forced upon me to love.

The most amazing part of the training was that it managed to convince me that by following the 5 Pillars of Islam and 6 Pillars of Faith, I was good to go here & for Eternity. And this is a babe who can't be bothered to cover her mouth when she yawns because it's believed to supply more oxygen to the brain. Like how the syahadah teaches us the ultimate commitment and how zakat demonstrates divine strategic collaboration that is the answer to all socioeconomic ails. Subhan'Allah...such perfection in all aspects. I now truly understand that Islam is the greatest relevance.

As for now, I am incredibly grateful I was able to attend such spiritual cleansing. In one of the activities that involved catharsis

1. (4) catharsis, katharsis, abreaction -- ((psychoanalysis) purging of emotional tensions)

we were asked to sit facing a stranger that we must embrace while taking turns asking

"WHAT DO YOU WANT?" at first throughout 30 seconds straight, then

"WHO ARE YOU?"
for another 30 seconds

and the interrogated is not allowed to give the same answer twice. If they do, the interrogator must coax them by gently swaying their body or tapping them on their back. Before the activity began I didn't expect we were going to imagine death approaching before being yelled at by a booming voice asking these questions with terrifying sounds of recorded screams in the background. It scared the SHIT out of me. With the right frame of mind, you'd think you were in the middle of End of Days and there you were, shaking while someone asked you what you wanted and who the hell you were. I was shaking when it was my turn to be interrogated and sobbing like a hopeless ape, like seriously. I was scared, I could not answer these two questions amidst my bawling. Astaghfirullah...what will happen when Munkar and Nakir comes a calling?

I myself am not sure whether I am anew or if I should be so foolish to soil myself with old habits. At the end of the course I secretly prayed I would meet someone who would guide me further throughout my life, far flung from my previous list of
  1. smart
  2. funny
  3. hot
  4. but not too hot, etc. (this could go on for scroll infinity as I am OCD by default)
If it may occur that I shall forget, let it be that this blog reminds me so. You as my friends are ever so welcomed to prompt me as well. I do not wish to be judged by any but He, I only ask for your prayers and good will. May my sins be forgiven, InsyaAllah.