Raihan's Ramadhan 2007

Thursday 13th September 2007

Hello there. Has it been that long?

Time is such a hasty little bugger, isn't it? Like that flawlessly delicious donut I painstakingly queued up for at Tanjong Katong Road's Munchy Donut last week, *blink blink* and it's gone in a snap. Yes, I know, such a tasteless (oooh..irony!) description to use on the first day of the fasting month. Pardon me, I'm fasting.

Anyway, not like I've been gone myself. No, I've been around actually. Since my last post, life didn't stop, would you believe that?! It's been going on and I've been a little bit breathless at the speed my world is turning. Did I seriously think everything would come to a screeching halt just because I've temporarily taken the back seat and took on a sabbatical? Was I wrong to assume the world revolves around me and me alone?

Yes. No. I don't know. Okay..okay..actually, I think it is one of those things we know that we know but sometimes we want to pretend we don't know so we say we don't know. Selective oblivion. Voluntary stupidity. Perverse self-delusion. Call it what you want, I call it The Raihan Realm.

Seriously though, I shake off this trance when I'm backed up against a wall and realize I gotta get going or the pink paradise will turn mouldy. Since my last post, we've managed to check a few more things off our Balik-Kampong list. Like on Azim's front, he started his course last week, a full-fledged adult all decked out for his first lesson like an excited kid on the first day of school. Complete with backpack, hokay?! I guess the Calvin Klein label on the backpack is the only thing that visually sets him apart from any other school-going kid. For kids nowadays would probably dismiss CK (brand orang tua aaah!) with much disdain, while slinging on and blinging up their latest street-fashion in true ghetto style. Heh. That and the fact that Azim's classes are held at godforsaken non-school hours and his super-thick textbooks carry titles that reek of course lingo which make as much sense to me as Sanskrit in a chic-lit. Heh. But above it all, he doesn't have to go to Perth yet for this part of his course so I'm euphoric my beloved curly-haired Babushuknya and I won't be parted again any time soon.

Me? My ballgame's not in league yet. My course starts next year (which will hopefully have a more sane timetable!), we're playing Russian Roulette with the bonking so...at time of print, no bump yet (pardon my crass!), I'm getting my fixed laptop back only next week and here's the Grand Slam; I got rejected from that interview with Singapore Airlines. Yeap, I got the boot during the kebaya round for an allergic rash on my left wrist which I got from a supplement I didn't know I was allergic to (thanks Imedeen!) and a deep but healing scratch on my right wrist I got from a highly-agitated cat (thanks Phatt!) who thinks one month of quarantine in super-ulu Sembawang Animal Quarantine center is one month too effing long (but he's released now and is happily back to sleeping at our feet at night with us!). And to think that I'm such a good little stewardess ( I can bring you coffee AND tea in a snap!), everyone would assume I'm a shoo-in for any airline interview! Let's not even talk about what happened to me at Silkair's water confidence test. Strong swimmer doth not a stewardess make when strong swimmer accidentally kicks fellow stewardess-wannabe when in water. Heh.

But I'm still good. I know the kind of skin standards these airlines look for and past crew experience counts for naught if the applicant has any form of an obvious scar on any visible parts of the uniform-clad body, especially scars that cannot be disguised by make-up, like scars on the chest, arms and neck. Oh well. I'll probably try again but this time I surprised myself by taking the rejection well in my stride, whereas normally, my skin crawls at any form of "thanks, Raihan, but no thanks!". Perhaps I big girl now. Perhaps I'm not harping for that "high-flying" job anymore, the way I was prior to my stint in Emirates. Perhaps my appetite to travel has been whet justifiably. This time, somehow, I know I've flown, I've been there, I've done that so it's no longer the be all end all anymore. This time, it's not that I obsessively want, need, have to fly....it's just that I miss flying but I don't mind if I can't. But we'll see...if I get it, I'll fly. If not, I'm still going to fly but I guess I have to actually pay for tickets now (oh the audacity!) to go places. Heh.

And at the end of the day, rezeki tak kemana. If I'm meant to be a mom, I'll get knocked-up by next week, Russian Roulette or not. If I'm meant to be some tai-tai, Azim will find a treasure map on his way to school, uncover buried gold bullions next month and I'll get that Birkin the next day without delay and in cash! And if I'm meant to don them kebaya togs, totter on them lovely batik-print slip-ons and fly the friendly skies, I'll inexorably do so, even if I had a gaping wound on my face. If it's not meant to be, then what's an old girl to do? I'll live, fret not!

And then there's the matter of the little project we've been obsessing over, even before we left Dubai. It's a top-secret, classified information project which Azim made me swear not to even blab to my right boob so I'll keep mum till he gives the green light (as usual, Azim is The Gatekeeper in this relationship!). But hey, when it's time, trust me, I'll be bursting to blog about it like a ripe pimple ready for the squeeze.

All in all, the going has been a little bit tough but it's still all thankfully tolerable and seamlessly solvable. So life's been actually quite okay. But not without a little bit of drama thrown in here and there for good measure, though. Like my Phatt falling out the window and getting hospitalized for a day. Like finding out about my baby sister playing pool at some mall like some punk (no lah..the punk part a bit over..she was actually in her girly-girl Hilary Duff-type clothes with her just-as-slenger galpals trying to be so cool and all but STILL...pool?! She's only FOURTEEN!). Like the difficulty Azim and I had with the India-datang-mari tenant of our house who simply refuses to leave just because his family LOVES our house so much (it's vely vindy, vely convenient, vely nice, no?). Like all that. And more.

But with good family, good friends and good faith...it's all good and what is not will be good, in due course.

And today, on the first day of Ramadhan, Azim and I hope everyone is always within reach of family, always within contact of friends and always within strength of faith, InsyaAllah. This beautiful month has always been extra special to me and now, the first time in four years, Azim and I are spending it without worry of distance from each other and from the rest of our loved ones.

:)

Alhamdullilah, I'm happy. You should be too! It's Ramadhan!






PS: Gathered iftar, anyone?