Nisa: As you requested,these are the pics of my new wife... 
so wats ur verdict?
so wats ur verdict?
It's official. You can trust me to make some of the dumbest mistakes in my life.. shall elaborate to you when we get to catch up.. haha..
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Friday, March 28, 2008
Habiba and Me...
A colleague came up to me today. She asked, " Din , what was the car that you used to drive?". A question that brewed an instant storm within me. A question that flicked the spotlight on a memory that had absconded me for quite a number of months now. How easy it is lose ourselves and all those that mattered to us whilst struggling to keep up in this race called life.
Simply put, Habiba( "beloved" in Arabic) was my car....A tiny 1 liter Subaru Justy with a feisty heart of a champion for an engine underneath its hood. A speed demon at 130kph, remains humble and plays it down to 90kph on the speedometer.( Waseem perceived that Habiba's speedometer is impaired while blazing the roads enroute to Senkang on the CTE).
Habiba was more than just a car to me. I bought that Justy from my friend Habib and thus i named it Habiba. Very soon Habiba grew its own character. Our relationship is one that could be understood if you had watched the movie "Herbie".
Habiba entered my life at a very critical stage. A stage where i was defining my own identity. She was my friend who was always with me till i got home, sheltered me from a stormy night, brought me out whenever i had temper tantrums and most importantly she helped me forge and catalyse some friendships that are my pillars of strength till today.
I feel so lost without you. I miss you so much.. yet somehow i feel your presence.. are you in the coke can i am drinking from right now?
So many memories...Mom always sleeping in the back seat during a drive. Tahira's endeavours with Habiba during her convocation. The many nights of ferrying my buddies back to their homes after their late night stints in NUS. The convenience of running at once unreachable locations. Sending Durga back home after long chatting sessions. Chandra driving Habiba around with one eye after a cist removal in NUH . Yasmin Begum scorching her hand when she touched the door handles after Habiba baking in a mid day sun. So much memories that its impossible to list them all.. sigh.. Of course then there is the fetching of my, (then) love of my life to her home from SIM.
The entry of Habiba awarded me with number of "firsts" in my life.
1) The first guy in the family/friends to OWN a car... not borrow his/her parents car and i was only 23. Hell YEAH!
2) The first car itself being a Subaru
3) The first time i brought a girl to view a sunset from kent ridge park
4) The first birthday candles blown on top of Habiba in a remote carpark during my birthday.
I can keep going at it but its just going to get lamer.
The irony is that Habiba died on my birthday. I buried her and used the remains of her PARF value for a cab ride back. A simple question blasted the flood gates on long forgotten memories of a darling that i will never get back. This entry is a tribute to you, Habiba. May you rest in peace in whichever aluminium can you have been recycled into.
Simply put, Habiba( "beloved" in Arabic) was my car....A tiny 1 liter Subaru Justy with a feisty heart of a champion for an engine underneath its hood. A speed demon at 130kph, remains humble and plays it down to 90kph on the speedometer.( Waseem perceived that Habiba's speedometer is impaired while blazing the roads enroute to Senkang on the CTE).
Habiba was more than just a car to me. I bought that Justy from my friend Habib and thus i named it Habiba. Very soon Habiba grew its own character. Our relationship is one that could be understood if you had watched the movie "Herbie".
Habiba entered my life at a very critical stage. A stage where i was defining my own identity. She was my friend who was always with me till i got home, sheltered me from a stormy night, brought me out whenever i had temper tantrums and most importantly she helped me forge and catalyse some friendships that are my pillars of strength till today.
I feel so lost without you. I miss you so much.. yet somehow i feel your presence.. are you in the coke can i am drinking from right now?
So many memories...Mom always sleeping in the back seat during a drive. Tahira's endeavours with Habiba during her convocation. The many nights of ferrying my buddies back to their homes after their late night stints in NUS. The convenience of running at once unreachable locations. Sending Durga back home after long chatting sessions. Chandra driving Habiba around with one eye after a cist removal in NUH . Yasmin Begum scorching her hand when she touched the door handles after Habiba baking in a mid day sun. So much memories that its impossible to list them all.. sigh.. Of course then there is the fetching of my, (then) love of my life to her home from SIM.
The entry of Habiba awarded me with number of "firsts" in my life.
1) The first guy in the family/friends to OWN a car... not borrow his/her parents car and i was only 23. Hell YEAH!
2) The first car itself being a Subaru
3) The first time i brought a girl to view a sunset from kent ridge park
4) The first birthday candles blown on top of Habiba in a remote carpark during my birthday.
I can keep going at it but its just going to get lamer.
The irony is that Habiba died on my birthday. I buried her and used the remains of her PARF value for a cab ride back. A simple question blasted the flood gates on long forgotten memories of a darling that i will never get back. This entry is a tribute to you, Habiba. May you rest in peace in whichever aluminium can you have been recycled into.
Habiba
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Saturday, March 15, 2008
Biking lessons
Lessons an amateur wannabe biker learns in the first 15 minutes of riding his new bike.
1) Never ride on the road without a bloody helmet ( its like painting a bullseye on your ass for motorists)
2) Don't wear any track pants when cycling ( unless you fancy shredded bottoms)
3) Don't touch the brake disc after getting down from your ride. ( ever heard of friction? )
4) Don't keep grinning when an Ang Moh Biker rides up next to you and gives the thumbs up upon seeing your bike. ( Open your bloody mouth and say thank you.)
5) Somethings cannot be changed. Some dogs can always outrun you no matter what you ride.
1) Never ride on the road without a bloody helmet ( its like painting a bullseye on your ass for motorists)
2) Don't wear any track pants when cycling ( unless you fancy shredded bottoms)
3) Don't touch the brake disc after getting down from your ride. ( ever heard of friction? )
4) Don't keep grinning when an Ang Moh Biker rides up next to you and gives the thumbs up upon seeing your bike. ( Open your bloody mouth and say thank you.)
5) Somethings cannot be changed. Some dogs can always outrun you no matter what you ride.
Identity ? What Identity?
I have been bugged with this issue for a very long time. Even till now i still can't find the exact words to label it or even describe it. But i am just going to go ahead and blog it in the hopes that some reader out there can help me put my thoughts into words. If they at all comprehend what i am blabbering about in the first place.
We all are living in a multi-cultural society. Bear in mind that the key word is "cultural". Though we all exist as one nation, we too have our own identities. Individual practices and traditions that makes us... us. The recent trend however seems rather scary as all i see in kids across the racial spectrum is westernization ( if there is such a word). Not referring to it in terms of clothing and fashion apparels alone but in the mindset as well. Sorry to sound like a granddad but what happened to family values? teenagers whom i talked to want their own "pad" ( the only pad i knew back then was... nevermind)away from their "old man",when they start working. They want maids. A cheap old folks home for their parents. Lets not proceed further as i feel its not a pretty sight.
However the factor that really astonished me was how detached they really are from the family. There is a clear and evident trend in our youths. Self gratification first then only.... more self gratification. What went wrong? Where did it go wrong?
The degeneration of our cultural and traditional beliefs are the symptoms of negative westernization.
The second sensitive issue is the conflict with religious identities. I am an Indian who has very rich traditional background. I am also a Muslim whose beliefs at times conflicts with the very traditions that makes me Indian. Where do i stand? This is a conundrum that is eating away inside many minds. Then again there is another group. One which is so damn ... nevermind... Its a group that kills traditional practices in the excuses of religious obligations. As i said "excuses". While their motives for abandoning certain practices may seem religiously inclined on the exterior, the truth of the matter is that they want a reason solid enough that the older generation cannot veto as it has a religious backing. Deep down its just westernization.
sigh...
We all are living in a multi-cultural society. Bear in mind that the key word is "cultural". Though we all exist as one nation, we too have our own identities. Individual practices and traditions that makes us... us. The recent trend however seems rather scary as all i see in kids across the racial spectrum is westernization ( if there is such a word). Not referring to it in terms of clothing and fashion apparels alone but in the mindset as well. Sorry to sound like a granddad but what happened to family values? teenagers whom i talked to want their own "pad" ( the only pad i knew back then was... nevermind)away from their "old man",when they start working. They want maids. A cheap old folks home for their parents. Lets not proceed further as i feel its not a pretty sight.
However the factor that really astonished me was how detached they really are from the family. There is a clear and evident trend in our youths. Self gratification first then only.... more self gratification. What went wrong? Where did it go wrong?
The degeneration of our cultural and traditional beliefs are the symptoms of negative westernization.
The second sensitive issue is the conflict with religious identities. I am an Indian who has very rich traditional background. I am also a Muslim whose beliefs at times conflicts with the very traditions that makes me Indian. Where do i stand? This is a conundrum that is eating away inside many minds. Then again there is another group. One which is so damn ... nevermind... Its a group that kills traditional practices in the excuses of religious obligations. As i said "excuses". While their motives for abandoning certain practices may seem religiously inclined on the exterior, the truth of the matter is that they want a reason solid enough that the older generation cannot veto as it has a religious backing. Deep down its just westernization.
sigh...
Sunday, March 09, 2008
Success or Significance...
Finally. Got a breather. So much has occurred at such blistering pace. Not everything has sunk in yet. Still in a daze, waiting for the dust to settle. So much time has passed so quickly and i feel very detached from the world. A very surreal feeling it is.
Sitting down and reflecting in the cool breeze helped put back some order into my thoughts. So here it goes, the rhetoric express.
Attending a number of funerals and especially that of a friends father, was a speed breaker in my chaotic life. It ends before you know it. No matter how prepared you are for it, you are simply unprepared.. face it.
What have i done ? Spending all my time chasing the Singapore dream of making it big, attaining Certs, brining in extra income and forever in the pursuit of success. Come to think of it i am not so sure anymore. Do i want my life to be defined by my success? or do i want it to be defined by significance?
Success or Significance, a question similar to the previous conundrums of passion or profession.
What defines significance? To me, its the people in my life and life's precious moments. An infant's waking moments are more precious to me than the closing moments of the best deal in office. Time and tide waits for no man. What's your assurance that you will awake the next dawn? Hold your loved ones close and never let them go.
Just unloading some random ramblings.
Sitting down and reflecting in the cool breeze helped put back some order into my thoughts. So here it goes, the rhetoric express.
Attending a number of funerals and especially that of a friends father, was a speed breaker in my chaotic life. It ends before you know it. No matter how prepared you are for it, you are simply unprepared.. face it.
What have i done ? Spending all my time chasing the Singapore dream of making it big, attaining Certs, brining in extra income and forever in the pursuit of success. Come to think of it i am not so sure anymore. Do i want my life to be defined by my success? or do i want it to be defined by significance?
Success or Significance, a question similar to the previous conundrums of passion or profession.
What defines significance? To me, its the people in my life and life's precious moments. An infant's waking moments are more precious to me than the closing moments of the best deal in office. Time and tide waits for no man. What's your assurance that you will awake the next dawn? Hold your loved ones close and never let them go.
Just unloading some random ramblings.
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