It's not meant to be

Pengalaman ini ingin saya rakamkan, meskipun sudah terlewat banyak minggu, bagi tujuan berkongsi dengan rakan-rakan dan juga sebagai rekod untuk diri sendiri.  Kebanyakan rakan-rakan sudah tahu kesudahan cerita saya, jadi saya akan garap dari belakang ke depan (reverse chronological order) sengaja bereksperimen.

Sinopsisnya ringkas sahaja. Saya dan suami merancang hendak menunaikan haji pada tahun ini, namun Allah mentakdirkan tahun ini giliran kami belum tiba - Dia belum menjemput kami. Beginilah manifestasi kehendak Allah:

30 Oktober 2012

Hari kedua saya mula masuk ke pejabat setelah dua minggu mengambil cuti. Kembali ke rutin biasa. Sesekali rasa sedih bertamu, namun lekas dicantas. Tabahlah wahai hati, serahkanlah dirimu sepenuhnya kepada Allah.

Seminggu sudah pun berlalu, barangkali satu tempoh bertenang yang mencukupi. Sejak minggu lepas lagi, kiriman e-mel dari teman-teman satu kumpulan saya hargai. Masing-masing berkongsikan buah fikiran dan refleksi mereka, amat saya hargai. Seorang teman lebih menjiwai maksud menjadi seorang Muslim – submission to Allah. Seorang lagi lebih menghayati konsep pengorbanan bersempena hari raya Aidiladha. Ada yang mengajak kami bermuhasabah, apakah ada hijab yang menghalang kami daripada menunaikan haji tahun ini. Ada yang mengakui pengalaman beberapa hari itu telah mengubah diri mereka. Meningkatkan komunikasi interpersonal dengan Allah. And me, I learn again about humility.

Beberapa hari sebelum tarikh asal kami sepatutnya bertolak, saya ada membuat satu senarai perkara-perkara yang ingin saya lakukan dan beberapa target sebagai persediaan untuk mengoptimumkan masa yang singkat di sana. Saya ghairah menantikan tempoh tiga minggu yang saya jangka dapat difokuskan semata-mata kepada amalan ibadah bagi meningkatkan prestasi rohani, tanpa perlu memikirkan soal anak-anak, rumah, kerja, dan lain-lain. Kini, senarai itu masih di tangan. Tiada sebab bagi saya menanti setahun lagi untuk menyemaknya. Saya sedar kini, masa untuk memulakannya adalah sekarang! Ia mungkin mengambil masa yang lebih lama, namun memang satu mujahadah berterusan bagi kita. Sama seperti nasihat Prof Muhd Kamil kepada jemaah haji yang baru pulang supaya istiqamah dengan amalan-amalan yang dilakukan di tanah suci, kita yang belum pergi juga harus bermula dari sekarang. Insya-Allah.

Beberapa hari lalu saya ada terdengar sepotong kisah Rasulullah diceritakan oleh seorang ustaz jemputan (maaf, terlupa namanya) dalam Radio Ikim. Baginda dan Aisyah sering berlapar hingga bertahan-tahan berhari-hari hanya dengan sebiji buah tamar. Apabila Rasulullah berdoa agar diberi sedikit makanan, baginda memohon supaya makan sehari, berlapar sehari (bergilir-gilir) supaya baginda boleh bersyukur sehari dan mengadu/merayu kepada Allah hari berikutnya. Ustaz Hussain juga ada mengingatkan tentang istimewanya menjadi seorang Muslim, kerana kita bersyukur apabila beroleh nikmat dan bersabar apabila diuji, dan kedua-duanya akan mendapat ganjaran daripada Allah insya-Allah. Dan kini, adalah masa untuk saya mengadu dan merayu.

Kami redha, insya-Allah. Ada hikmahnya Allah menangguhkan pemergian kami. Barangkali Hasief belum puas menyusu. Barangkali kami belum benar-benar bersedia, dan Dia memberikan kami masa tambahan. Dan ada dua perkara lain yang telah berlaku baru-baru ini yang barangkali memerlukan kami di sini. Jika hikmahnya tidak terlihat pun, saya menaruh sepenuh keyakinan akan perancangan Allah bagi saya. Kami bertemu dan berkenalan dengan sahabat-sahabat baru yang disenangi, malahan silaturrahim dengan seorang saudara dekat yang sebelum ini sedikit renggang juga bertaut kembali, Alhamdulillah.

Kami akan mencuba lagi pada tahun 1434 Hijrah ini, insya-Allah. Semoga Allah mempermudahkan urusan kami dan menjemput kami menjadi tetamunya tahun hadapan. Amin.

23 Oktober – 7 Zulhijjah 7 petang

Ustaz memanggil kami semua berkumpul. Saya mula berasa kurang enak, berat hati saya mengatakan beliau akan menyampaikan berita duka. Dan saya tidak salah – Ustaz Hussain memaklumkan kepada kami rundingan tidak berhasil. Dia meminta kami bersabar dengan ketentuan ini. Dalam hati, saya akur dan redha. Namun, air mata mengalir dan terus mengalir. Begitulah ekspresi tulus rasa duka dan kecewa.  Apalah lagi daya kami jika sudah bukan tersurat belum giliran kami untuk menjadi tetamu-Nya tahun ini. Ustaz mengajarkan kepada kami:  QaddarAllahu wa masha a fa’al (قَدَّرَاللهُ وَ مَا شَاءَ فَعَل) “Allah did that what He had ordained to do”.

Saya menelefon kakak saya memohon pertolongan dia menjemput kami dari KLIA. Perkara pertama yang akan kami lakukan setibanya di rumah – menjemput anak-anak dari rumah pengasuh. Rindu menggamit setelah 50 jam tidak bertemu. Rasa letih menjamah diri - letih fizikal, letih minda dan emosi. Namun, minda masih perlu memikirkan – jadi kini, apa berikutnya?

23 Oktober – 7 Zulhijjah 4 petang

Segalanya masih tidak pasti. Ustaz Hussain sudah meminta kesemua kami berkumpul di KLIA. Mungkin itu satu petanda baik. Saya dan suami berpusing-pusing sekitar balai berlepas - memerhati suasana, mencari cerita. Satu kumpulan berpakaian ihram bersana keluarga dan sanak saudara mereka mengerumuni seorang yang berdiri di atas kerusi, barangkali wakil ejen. Dia meminta semua jemaah bersabar dan berkata mereka telah cuba yang terbaik tetapi mereka sudah tidak dapat berbuat apa-apa lagi. Soalan-soalan berbaur marah menerjah. Di sebelah sana, sekumpulan lagi mendengar taklimat wakil ejen mereka, juga bernada serupa.

Saya lihat beberapa orang wartawan menemuramah beberapa orang, bertanyakan cerita. Seorang calon jemaah menggeletik seperti diserang sawan, barangkali akibat terkejut dengan berita yang diterima, rakus jurugambar mengetik kamera namun dihalang oleh ahli keluarga. Wartawan televisyen dan akhbar menghampiri kami dan bertanya kepada kami pula, namun kami minta mereka rujuk terus kepada Tabung Haji sebagai pihak yang berautoriti untuk mengeluarkan sebarang kenyataan.

Kami ditegur seorang lelaki yang tersenyum ceria, mahu bertukar cerita. Katanya, dia sudah beberapa hari berkampung di KLIA, mencari penerbangan yang boleh membawanya ke Makkah. Dia menepuk-nepuk poketnya seluarnya yang kembung. “Berkepuk-kepuk duit saya dah sediakan. Tadi Tabung Haji kata masih ada dua tempat, saya bersedia hendak bayar, tapi sudah ada dua Datuk ambil,” ceritanya. “Saya betul-betul nak pergi ini.” Kongsinya, dia ada menimbangkan hendak naik bas ke Hadyai dan terbang ke Jeddah dari sana, tetapi mungkin tidak sempat. Sewaktu rancak dia bercerita, seorang wanita merapatinya dan bertanya, “Bagaimana, awak mahu saya aturkan dengan rakan saya di Jordan?” Dia beredar seketika untuk berbincang dengan wanita tersebut. Beberapa ketika dia kembali. Saya bertanyakan option terbaru itu. Katanya, dia boleh terbang ke Jordan dan ambil bas dari Jordan ke Makkah, tapi perjalanan bas itu sahaja mengambil masa 24 jam! Bukan sahaja ada risiko tidak sempat sampai sebelum waktu wukuf, malah juga mungkin dihalang untuk memasuki sempadan dari Jordan ke Saudi. Dia menggeleng-gelengkan kepala. “Terlalu berisiko.”

Saya bertemu satu kumpulan yang diarah pulang ke Kelana Jaya. Mereka sepatutnya menaiki penerbangan Saudi Airlines jam 3 petang tadi, namun tidak dibenarkan kerana rupa-rupanya penerbangan itu khusus bagi jemputan khas kerajaan Arab Saudi sahaja.

Nasib kami masih belum pasti. Ustaz Hussain masih berunding dengan beberapa pihak.

23 Oktober – 7 Zulhijjah 1 petang

Kereta yang dipandu sudah memasuki ruang letak kereta KLIA, apabila SMS baru menerjah telefon. “Ustaz kata tidak perlu ke KLIA dahulu kerana urusan tiket masih belum selesai.” Ya Allah, dugaan apakah lagi ini? Alang-alang sudah sampai, kami terus ke balai perlepasan, mencari rakan-rakan yang lain dan mendaparkan maklumat tambahan. Saya terkejut mendapat tahu, kami bukannya termasuk dalam tiga pesawat khas yang ditempah Tabung Haji. Khabarnya, meski pun tempat duduk dalam pesawat Saudi Airlines ada, namun ia masih tidak mendapat kebenaran untuk membawa kami. Oh, masih masalah yang sama? Hati masih mengharap, namun diri sudah mula mempersiapkan mental untuk menghadapi kemungkinan terburuk. Pray for the best, but prepare for the worst! Ya Allah, bantulah kami!

22 Oktober – 6 Zulhijjah

Lewat malam, kami mendapat panggilan telefon, menyatakan sudah ada tempat buat kami dalam penerbangan Saudi Airlines jam 4 petang. Alhamdulillah!

21 Oktober – 5 Zulhijjah

Semalaman tadi saya tidak tidur, namun keletihan tidak terasa. Hati saya melonjak riang! Aku akan terbang pagi ini, insya-Allah! Selepas Subuh, saya menghantar anak-anak ke rumah pengasuh. Kemudian, adik saya datang menjemput kami di rumah dan menghantar kami di KLIA.

Saya sedikit mengah kerana berkejar ke kaunter daftar masuk Qatar Airways. Kak M berkata kepada saya, “Sis, catch your breath first.” Kemudian dia menyambung, “We can’t check in.” Saya melongo, terpinga-pinga. Saya diberitahu Qatar Airways tidak dibenarkan menerbangkan kami di Jeddah. Saya hairan. Penerbangan ini wujud atau pun tidak? Bagaimana pula ejen boleh menempah tiket penerbangan yang tidak wujud? Kemudian, saya dijelaskan bahawa penerbangan itu memang wujud, namun mereka cuma boleh membawa penumpang dengan visa perniagaan/kerja tetapi bukan bagi penumpang dengan visa haji atau ziarah. Ibu mertua dan kakak saya yang mendengar penjelasan itu semakin kehairanan. “Mengapa pula jemaah haji yang tidak boleh dibawa masuk? Patutnya merekalah diberi priority!” Saya faham sedikit, kerana saya ada mendengar bahawa kerajaan Saudi hanya membenarkan Saudi Airlines sahaja untuk membawa jemaah haji masuk pada hari-hari terakhir sebelum wukuf, sebuah dasar monopoli. 

Kata ketua kumpulan kami, pihak ejen dan ustaz sedang menelefon beberapa pihak bagi mencuba menyelesaikan masalah kami. Saya menunggu dengan penuh harap. Namun, waktu gate ditutup masih belum ada sebarang kata putus. Qatar Airways tetap berkeras tidak mahu membenarkan kami masuk, kerana dikhuatiri pesawatnya tidak akan dibenarkan mendarat dan penumpang lain pula akan terjejas. Ketua kumpulan kami meminta kami pulang dan menunggu di rumah. Berderau darah saya mendengar pengumuman beliau. Lemah. Tapi, saya hadapi dengan positif. Kata adik ipar saya, ada lebih kurang 1500 orang jemaah haji Malaysia yang baru mendapat visa dan belum ada penerbangan. Ejen-ejen sedang berkumpul dan berbincang dengan Tabung Haji bagi menyelesaikan masalah ini. Masih ada jalan! Insya-Allah, kita masih ada peluang!

20 Oktober – 4 Zulhijjah

Beberapa hari menunggu dalam debaran dan munajat kepada Yang Maha Berkuasa, kami mendapat panggilan telefon menyatakan bahawa visa kami telah diproses dan keluar daripada kedutaan. Alhamdulillah! Kami lantas sujud syukur dan bersolat hajat memohon supaya Allah perkenankan hajat kami hendak menjejakkan kaki ke tanah suci dan menunaikan haji tahun ini.

Waktu-waktu akhir ini, cukup sukar bagi ejen kami mendapatkan penerbangan. Pada waktu petang, kami dimaklumkan kumpulan kami akan berpecah kepada dua kumpulan, satu kumpulan terbang dengan penerbangan pagi jam 10.20 pagi dan kumpulan kedua jam 9 malam. Kedua-duanya dengan Qatar Airways dan dijadualkan transit di Doha sebelum menaiki pesawat lain ke Jeddah.

17 Oktober – 1 Zulhijjah

Barang-barang semuanya sudah dibeli dan siap dikemaskan dalam beg. Namun, kami masih belum mendapat visa! Tarikh penerbangan dijadualkan pada 18 Oktober dengan Saudi Airlines. Berdebar dan gementar. Ya Allah, Ya Allah, permudahkanlah.

Pada waktu petang, kami dipanggil ke pejabat ustaz. Beliau mengumumkan bahawa ejen sudah membatalkan penerbangan kami keesokan harinya kerana visa masih belum keluar. Saya menangis semahunya. Apakah tiada rezeki bagi kami untuk pergi ke Makkah tahun ini? Namun, ustaz memberikan kami harapan. Katanya, pihak kedutaan tidak memulangkan passport kita kosong. Mereka masih memegangnya dan menyuruh kita menunggu. Maknanya, kita masih ada peluang untuk mendapat visa.

6 Oktober 2012

Kami menghadiri kelas persiapan yang terakhir dan bagasi besar berisi telekung dan set ihram sudah diagihkan, namun visa kami masih di kedutaan, meskipun sudah hampir sebulan dihantar ke sana. Bukan sedikit antara kami yang resah. Ustaz memberikan kami kata-kata semangat. “Usah risau. Ini perkara yang biasa berlaku. Mereka sangat sibuk di kedutaan. Ini baru ujian kecil. Bersabarlah dan berdoalah banyak-banyak.”

17 Julai 2012

Surat rayuan kepada Tabung Haji dan panggilan telefon kepada TH Travel tidak membuahkan hasil. Saat kami mula pasrah dan akur bahawa mungkin belum rezeki kami menunaikan haji tahun ini, rakan sekerja saya J memberikan nombor Ustaz M bagi dihubungi. Katanya, masih ada tempat tahun ini. J telah pergi bersama kumpulan ini tahun lepas dan amat berpuas hati dengan pengalamannya. Saya pun menghubungi Ustaz M. “Insya-Allah, masih ada tempat. Nasib baik puan hubungi saya segera. Dalam masa beberapa hari ini, 1 Ramadan, pendaftaran di Saudi akan ditutup.” Alhamdulillah! Saya lekas meminta dia menghantar maklumat lanjut dan cara pembayaran supaya saya dan suami dapat mengambil tindakan seterusnya. Dalam hati, ada rasa berbunga-bunga. Ya Allah, jemputlah kami menjadi tetamu-Mu tahun ini!

Daddy Long Legs

"Bukanlah kesenangan besar-besar yang paling penting, tetapi menghargai perkara-perkara kecil. Saya telah menemui rahsia hidup bahagia, iaitu fokus pada masa sekarang. Usah mengenangkan atau menyesali yang telah berlalu, atau tertunggu-tunggu masa hadapan, tetapi manfaatkan waktu kini sepenuhnya. Saya akan nikmati setiap saat dalam hidup saya dan saya tahu saya sedang menikmatinya semenjak waktu saya sedang menikmatinya lagi (bukan hanya selepas). Kebanyakan orang seolah-olah berlari terlalu laju sehingga tidak sempat menghargai hidup mereka. Mereka mahu tiba ke satu destinasi yang jauh nun di sana. Mereka mengah dan tercungap-cungap sepanjang perjalanan sehingga mereka tidak dapat menghargai keindahan pemandangan yang terbentang. Sedar-sedar sahaja, mereka sudah tua dan keletihan, dan tiada beza pun sama ada mereka tiba ke destinasi yang dituju atau mencapai sasaran yang ditetapkan, atau pun tidak. Saya akan duduk di tepi jalan dan mengutip semua kegembiraan kecil atau besar, walaupun saya tidak dapat mencapai cita-cita menjadi seorang penulis agung. Saya semakin petah berfalsafah, bukan?"

Perenggan di atas dipetik daripada novel terjemahan saya yang pertama yang baru diterbitkan oleh PTS One. Alhamdulillah, saya bersyukur kepada Allah. Novel remaja klasik nukilan Jean Webster ini mengisahkan seorang anak yatim piatu, Jerusha Abbott yang berpeluang melanjutkan pelajarannya ke peringkat kolej apabila seorang dermawan misteri sudi membiayai kos pengajiannya. Identiti lelaki itu dirahsiakan daripada Jerusha, namun dia disyaratkan agar menulis surat setiap bulan kepadanya. Kisah hidup Jerusha yang menyesuaikan diri dengan kehidupan barunya dirakamkan melalui surat-surat ini.

Sesiapa yang berminat untuk membeli buku ini, jemputlah ke link Bookcafe (kedai online penerbit PTS) ini.

Say "Insya-Allah"

I would like to share a story from the book 'In the Footsteps of the Prophet' (written by Tariq Ramadan) that I really like.

From Chapter 6.

The Quraysh were at loss about how to prevent Muhammad's message from spreading further. They decided to send a delegation to Yathrib to ask Jewish dignitaries about the natture and truthfulness of this new Revelation. The Yathrib Jews were known to profess this same idea of the One God, and Muhammad often referred to Moses, their prophet; they were therefore best suited to express an opinion or even to suggest a strategy.

Consulted about the new prophet, the rabbis suggested the people of Mecca should ask him three key questions in order to find out whether what he said was actually revealed or whether he was a fraud. The first question involved the knowledge of a story about a group of young people's exile from their people; the second was about a great traveler who had reached the confines of the universe; the third was a direct request to define ar-ruh (the soul). The Quraysh delegation left, convinced that they now had the means to entrap Muhammad. Back in Mecca, they went to him and asked him the three questions. He replied almost instantly: "I shall answer your questions tomorrow!"

But the next day, the Angel Gabriel did not appear. There was no Revelation. Nor did the angel come the day after, of the next fourteen days. The Quraysh gloated, certain they has at last managed to prove the duplicity of the so-called prophet, who could not answer the rabbis' questions. As for Muhammad, he was sad, and as the days went by, he was increasingly afraid of having been forsaken: without doubting God, he again underwent the experience of self-doubt amplified by his opponents' sneers. Two weeks later, he received a Revelation and an explanation:

Never say of anything, "I shall do that tomorrow," except: "If God so wills," and remember your Lord (Rabb) when you forget, and say "I hope that my Lord will guide me ever closer than this to the right course." (18:23-24)

This revelation once again involved a reproach and a teaching: it reminded the Prophet that his status, his knowledge, and his fate depended on his Rabb, on the One and Sovereign God, and that he must never forget it. This is how one should understand the meaning of the phrase in sha Allah, "if God so wills": it expresses the awareness of limits, the feeling of humility of one who acts while knowing that beyond what he or she can do or say, God alone has the power to make things happen. This is by no means a fatalistic message: it implies not that one should not act but, on the contrary, that one should never stop acting while always being aware in one's mind and heart of the real limits of human power. For the second time, the Prophet was called to account by the Transcendent. Whatever adversity one faces, one's strength and freedom on earth consist in remaining constantly aware of one's dependence on the Creator.

Only later was the Prophet to receive the answers to the three questions he had been asked. The delay was paradoxically to strengthen the believers' conviction and to baffle the Prophet's interlocutors: his initial inability to answer and then the belated communication of Revelation proved that Muhammad was not the author of the Book that was being constituted and that he did actually depend on his Rabb's will.

Phew - I'm so proud of myself because I have persevered at typing this rather long excerpt (if it's by copy & paste, it wouldn't be 'rather long').

Can't wait to read Asbabun Nuzul (published by PTS)!

How I utilise the Flexi-work Policy

The handful of you who have been reading my blog for many years would know that flexi-work is a benefit that I really truly value and something that I would like to see being adopted by more companies, as well as (dare I hope?) the government sector in Malaysia. Whenever I talk to my friends about the flexi-work policy of the company I'm working for, most of them would be so impressed and ask "Is there any vacancy that I can apply to?"

Flashback to almost 5 years ago, this is where I outlined the policy, and most relevant for the context of this post are flexible working hours and working outside office. But for this post, I would like to elaborate a bit on how I have utilised the flexi-work policy.

When MHH was away studying in Penang, I discussed with my boss and he agreed to let me work from home in Penang one week in a month. Because I would also need to look after Munief who was about 6 months old then, I offered to use up one day of annual leave for each week I stayed in Penang to make up for the times I am attending to Munief instead of doing work. But after Afiefah was born, I discontinued this practise because it gets more challenging to look after a 2-year-old and a baby and get all the tasks done. I might need to use up more annual leave than I could afford to.

In early 2010, I accepted a new role that requires me to publish a set of reports every day by 8.30 am.  I negotiated with my boss and he agreed to let me do those at home before leaving for work. I appreciate this because I was able to settle the time-sensitive task first, and then I am able to spend time with my family, get the kids ready for school, bathe the little one, fix a simple breakfast for them, and sometimes even get house chores done (usually it's sidai baju). I also love being able to save time by skipping the peak hour heavy traffic. I wrote about this here. When I send Hasief to his care-giver at 9 plus, the neighbour (who are my parents' friends) or friends visiting the care-giver would sometimes remark, "Lambat pergi kerja hari ni?" And then I would explain that I've worked at home earlier, and even talk a bit about the flexi-work policy.

Sometimes, when I need to look after my kids at home (for example, when one of them is ill, or when their care-giver have some business to attend to ask for 'cuti') yet can't afford to spend too much annual leave, I would do a 'half-day + WFH' (work from home). It doesn't have to be 'morning off' or 'afternoon off' - I could be working an hour in the morning, an hour in the afternoon, one hour in the evening, and one hour at night. Unless there's a meeting, then of course I would need to cater to the timing. I was aghast when MHH explained that in his workplace, when you take half-day in the morning, the other half needs to be taken in the afternoon, and the pair have to be within the same month. That's so rigid! For the school holiday that just passed, I utilised a few of this 'half-day + WFH' so that we can take the kids out someplace interesting in the afternoon.

Afiefah finishes kindergarten at 11.30 (Munief chose to stay-on till 6). Since MHH's workplace is nearby, his daily routine would include picking her up and sending her to her care-giver's house (to join her little brother). Sometimes MHH is not able to because he has to be someplace further for the whole day (course, function, work etc). He would notify me early, and I would plan accordingly  and take over. I would send Hasief at 9 plus as though I would be going to the office, but I would come back home and work there till 11.30. Then I pick up Fifa, send her over, and then go to the office. I have also done this when I was taking turn picking up my little brother from school.

Things like coming to the office a bit late or leaving a bit early because there's something to do, and then making it up at night or during weekend is a common practise. Here are some of the other examples of how my colleagues or their friends utilise flexi-work benefit.

After sending her kids to school, she would go to the office (different location than mine), one of the earliest at 7 plus. She leaves to pick up her kids at 1 something, cook them lunch, get them ready for sekolah agama in the afternoon. After sending them, she will continue her work, from home, till evening or night (with breaks in between, of course).

A friend of mine has a regional role so she didn't need to be present at the office often because she communicates with colleagues from other locations (countries). So, she works mostly from home. She doesn't have kids yet.

I met a lady who works fulltime at home because her home is 3 hours from the nearest office (London) and she doesn't want to move. It's feasible because she has a global role. Indeed there are some posts (not many) in the company vacancy page that list the location as 'Virtual'. Like my friend, she also has no child yet. She did however admit that she finds it distracting when there's any other person at home (she lives alone), for example when her mother comes to visit and stay with her.

Don't be mistaken into thinking that only women utilise the flexi-work policy. I recently worked (for a short project) with a guy who works mostly from home. I could hear his kids' sounds in the background during our calls. He said it took some time for his family and friends to get used to it. Sometimes they'd meet him at some coffee shop with his laptop and assume he wasn't working, but he was.

So, what does it take for a flexi-work policy to be able to be implemented successfully?

Firstly, technology is a key enabler. There is virtually no difference between working from home or at the office in terms of access, connectivity, documents and softwares. Communication is also convenient and cheap (free, even) with tools like instant messaging, computer call, desktop sharing, video conferencing, live meeting etc.

Secondly, the employees must act like responsible adults who can be trusted to complete their tasks, accountable to manage their time, and not abuse the privilege. A healthy performance-based culture helps.

Granted, flexi-work policy is not suitable for some tasks, and also not suited to some people, but I earnestly believe that having it in place will be a boon, blessing to working parents (or anyone really) in their quest to have work-life balance and lead a full, rich lives, and it will definitely be a value proposition for the employers to attract and retain top talents (especially women).

I will end this already-too-long 'essay' by repeating what I have mentioned in the first paragraph, that I would love to see flexible working policy being adopted by more employers in Malaysia, gradually becoming a normal working culture. I would also like to share that my dream (wish?) is to work part-time (my attempt in 2009 to ask for a 4-day work week was rejected) - a case of 'diberi betis hendakkan paha'!

Comment form

Not much of a post, this. But can I just say I don't like the comment form for the new Blogger? I can't figure it out yet.

Six ways mothers can find balance & stay focused

An article titled 'Mother, Nor Martyr', written by Munira Lekovic Ezzeldine in Imam Suhaib Webb's Virtual Mosque. Here's the link to the original article (where you can read the comments, too).

Being a mother is certainly not easy. As Allah describes in the Qur’an, “His mother carried him, [increasing her] in weakness upon weakness, and his weaning is in two years.” (31:14). These weaknesses are often referred to as pregnancy, birthing and nursing. But that is just the beginning.

Mothers are in the daily “trenches” of changing diapers, helping with homework, cooking dinner, disciplining and running between work, picking kids up from school, and soccer games. These daily acts of service to her family can encompass her so completely that she loses balance and perspective of herself. When a woman loses the deeper spiritual significance of motherhood, she may feel that the duty of a mother is to martyr herself for her family by putting everyone else’s needs ahead of her own. But carrying all the burdens and difficulties is not the path to being a good mother. In fact it only depletes a woman, and may even build resentment, making her think that her children and her family “owe” her, as payback for her “martyrdom.”

As the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ (peace and blessings be upon him) taught us: “A person’s wealth shall not decrease with charity.” What better charity is there than the charity of a mother helping her family? However, as with all forms of giving, the reward is in the giving, not in what is paid back to us by those we give to. Indeed all forms of giving benefit the donor, when done right.

Motherhood is a journey that allows one to witness the growth of a child as well as instill growth in women by making them stronger and wiser. Allah blesses women with children and in turn mothers make a promise to Allah to nurture children into adulthood. Through the process of parenting children, one realizes that it is also about role modeling a balanced and healthy lifestyle to children. Being a mother is not being a martyr. Rather it is respecting the trust and responsibility of raising children as well as respecting yourself as a strong woman. Children will respect their mothers as women who service their families for the sake of Allah. The responsibility of motherhood makes a woman grow stronger physically, mentally and spiritually because she is tested in all areas. She learns to stretch herself to serve those around her with the ultimate purpose of pleasing Allah, while at the same time not losing herself. A mother should not simply become weaker through her giving, but stronger and more balanced.

Here are six ways mothers can find balance and stay focused in order to get through the tough days of parenting as well as enjoy the journey of motherhood:

1. “I will remind myself daily that my time with my children is precious.”

Childhood will end one day and my “baby” will soon be an adult. Our children are changing daily and maturing into an adult. Parenting is celebrating the everyday moments more than focusing on the milestones of our children’s life. Spending quality time with our children and making time to communicate and share with our children is what will be remembered. The mundane activities in our life are the ways we connect daily with our children, so we need to see them more as experiences of connection rather than activities we just need to get through and move on to the next.

2. “I will take care of myself.”

Physically, mentally and spiritually. By constantly giving attention to our children and husband, we many times forget to take care of ourselves or we put our needs at the bottom of the list. Some mothers don’t even put themselves on the list at all. But as mothers we can only give as much as we have, and if we do not refill our own tanks then we will have nothing left to give. Taking care of our bodies through exercise is vital for our physical health as well as boosting our overall mood and energy. Spending time exercising is not selfish, unnecessary or extra. It must be seen as a priority in order to be able to do our duty as a mother. Taking care of our mental and spiritual self is also vital because this is the area that is most challenged and drained from us when raising our children. The intention of our daily prayers is to help us refocus and slow down our hectic lives, especially as mothers. Since women are the “heart” of a household, we must find inner peace in order for the family to feel in balance. Finding and sustaining self-confidence and happiness will manifest to our children and husband.

3. “I am not a perfect mother.”

Many Muslim mothers have extremely idealistic views of parenting or high expectations of themselves as mothers. Our children do not need us to be perfect and they actually will easily forgive us when we acknowledge our mistakes and show our imperfections. We must accept that we will make mistakes which will be opportunities for us to grow and become smarter moms for future challenges. We need to forgive ourselves and release ourselves of the burden of striving for perfection. We need to eliminate the thinking that other moms have attained perfection and they do everything right. We can only do the best that we can with what we have and we should focus on the things that matter – our relationships with them. Dinners won’t always be amazing, the dishes won’t always be clean, and laundry will pile up, but when our kids become adults they won’t remember any of that; rather they will remember the time they spent and the conversations they had with us.

4. “I will make my marriage a priority.”

Children place a huge strain on a marriage, especially for mothers of young children. Many mothers focus entirely on the needs of their children and in the process neglect their relationship with their husband. Physical and emotional exhaustion leave women with little energy left to give to their husband and this attitude of “nothing left to give” can cause disconnection in the marriage. It is vital that we find balance in our marriage alongside parenting because not only is it good for our children to witness a healthy relationship, but it is also good for our mental health. The companionship of a spouse is one that will supersede our relationship with our children, especially as children grow older. We must maintain a loving connection to our spouse so that we can grow old together and be further bonded to one another after the children are grown and married. This means we can’t put our marriage “on hold,” rather we must maintain a bond of friendship and love through the trying times of parenthood. It is vital we spend time alone with our husband so that we can see each other through the lens of a spouse and not only as a caregiver to our children. Going on “date nights” and weekend outings as a couple is vital for the bond to be maintained and sustained.

5. “I will value my friendships.”

Connecting and sharing with other women helps us to realize the commonality in our struggles as mothers and women. Having sisters and girlfriends in our life makes us stronger because these relationships nurture us emotionally and help us manage the stress in our lives. Our girlfriends and sisters have a special place in our lives that even our husbands cannot fill or replace. Making time to connect with our friends will help us feel happier and recharged so that we are able to give to our children and husband. Talking to and going out with girlfriends is vital for mothers to boost their connection to other women. It will improve our moods and fill our tanks so that we can give to our children and better connect with our husbands.

6. “I will prioritize family dinners.”

Eating together as a family is a daily activity of bonding. Routines in children’s lives can foster a deep sense of security. Creating traditions such as eating together is meaningful to our daily lives because it is a time the family comes together to share their day and connect with one another. Research has shown children who regularly have dinner with their families are more likely to do better and make good choices with regard to friends, drugs and sex. Bringing everyone together daily will create a more communicative family dynamic, and the tradition of food, conversations and joy will be the memories that everyone will cherish.

Home sweet home

Sungguh pantas masa berlalu, sedar tidak sedar, sudah lebih setengah tahun kami berpindah ke kediaman sendiri. Alhamdulillah, kami bersyukur kepada Allah kerana telah mengizinkan kami berlindung di bawah rumah yang selesa ini. Sebagai bonus, Munief dan Afiefah mula tidur di bilik berasingan sejak hari pertama kami berpindah lagi tanpa susah dipujuk dan dilatih, kerana dari awal kami sudah ceritakan pada mereka bahawa itu bilik mereka. Tapi kini, mereka suka juga tidur di ruang keluarga atau di bilik tamu. Hingga tiga lokasi mereka giliri!

Tercapai jua impian saya untuk mengkhususkan sebuah bilik sebagai 'perpustakaan mini' di rumah. Bilik ini juga menempatkan workstation saya dan suami (apabila di rumah). Ini gambar saat kemas ya. Pada kebanyakan masa, lantai di bilik penuh dengan buku, pensel warna, kertas dan mainan.


Bukan sahaja di perpustakaan, di ruang keluarga juga tidak kurang sepahnya! Saya masih bertatih hendak belajar 'teknik' mengurus kediaman. Tekniklah sangat, sebenarnya antara malas dengan rajin sahaja. Dan saya mengakui saya lebihnya malas berbanding rajin, hoho. Mujur ada pembantu yang boleh datang apabila diminta. Itu pun saya tidak mahu bergantung padanya, jadi saya masih mencuci rumah saya setiap hujung minggu setakat yang mampu. Saya agak berkira dengan barang apa yang dibeli dan akan 'tinggal' di rumah kami. Pandangan saya, semakin banyak barang, semakin kurang ruang, dan semakin banyak masa diperlukan untuk menguruskan barang-barang. Less is more!

Dapur rumah saya kecil sahaja, lebih kecil berbanding kebanyakan dapur standard. Tapi ia optimum untuk kegunaan (dan penjagaan) harian keluarga saya. Cuma, apabila ada parti atau kenduri, terasalah sedikit kecilnya. Sebelum ini, di rumah bonda saya, oven yang digunakan jenis mudah alih dan disimpan di tepi apabila tidak digunakan. Leceh juga perlu mengangkut oven ke atas kaunter dapur berhampiran suis elektrik apabila hendak menggunakannya, dan selepas guna, angkut kembali ke tempat simpan. Alhamdulillah, dengan adanya oven yang tetap kedudukannya di dapur sendiri, lebih mudah dan kerap saya menggunakan. Jika sebelum ini cara membakar lebih banyak digunakan untuk kek, biskut, dan sebagainya, kali ini saya juga cuba untuk memasak kentang, daging, ayam dan ikan di dalam oven juga. Saya suka! Boleh tinggalkan sahaja di dalam oven dan sementara tunggu masak boleh buat kerja lain.

Ikan salmon, diperap dengan lemon, bawang merah, garam, lada hitam, rosemary dan ditinggal selama 30 minit dalam suhu 200 C.

Saya juga mula membuat 'meal plan'. Bukanlah bermakna saya ikut seratus-peratus, masih ada fleksibiliti, tapi ia membantu. Saya dapat merancang senarai barang untuk dibeli, dan saya tahu apa yang perlu dikeluarkan daripada bahagian sejuk beku ke bahagian peti bawah pada waktu pagi bagi dinyahbeku supaya saya boleh terus mula memasak apabila pulang dari pejabat. Peti sejuk saya tidak diisi penuh-penuh kerana saya cuma membeli barang dapur untuk jangkaan kegunaan lebih kurang seminggu sahaja. Cuma kini, saya perlu menulis 'meal plan' saya dengan tulisan 'sebutir-sebutir' kerana Munief mengadu tidak dapat membaca tulisan sambung (cakar ayam?) saya. Hehe, saya sangkakan saya seorang sahaja yang akan rujuk 'meal plan' yang tertampal di peti sejuk itu.

Saya juga mengamalkan konsep 'masak banyak dan bekukan'. Objektif saya dalam pengurusan makanan dan dapur jelas: menyediakan hidangan seimbang yang berkhasiat untuk keluarga dalam jangka waktu kurang 30 minit setiap waktu makan secara purata (kecuali sarapan, kurang 15 minit). Ah, nikmatnya ada dapur sendiri! Saya bukanlah pandai sangat memasak. Setakat untuk makan sendiri, bolehlah. Tapi saya masih ada rasa ingin 'bereksperimen' dan mencuba resepi baru. Saya harap rasa ingin mencuba-cuba ini akan kekal lama.

Apabila pulang ke rumah setelah bermusafir atau tidur di tempat lain meskipun cuma semalaman, perasaan saya nyaman dan bahagia sekali. Ahhh ... I'm home.

"In my dream, I saw a man doing sujud."

The other day, I listened to an interview with Imam Muhammad Abdul Latif Finch (of Canada) in Radio IKIM. One of the questions asked was how he came to embrace Islam. I love listening to stories of hidayah. He said that when he was young, he wanted to be devoted to something and looked everywhere, from skateboarding, music and partying to religions. He studied and bought religious items from all religions he could find until one day he threw all the items away because they cluttered his room too much. At that moment, he had an epiphany. He thought, “I’ve been looking for god but haven’t found him. Why not ask god? I’m sure he can listen to me.” So he asked (prayed?), “Oh god, I know you exist. But I don’t know who you are. Can you please show me who you are?” That night, (or maybe a few nights after, I couldn’t remember), he had a dream. He dreamt that he saw a man doing the sujud, and he recognized that this was an act in Islam. He himself then sujud, and felt an overwhelming tranquillity. The dream him moved him so much, that he embraced Islam the following week, at age 20 in 1995.

When asked about family acceptance, he spoke about his mother. She was open about it and told him, “Stay Muslim because you have been at your best since you became a Muslim.” She then read the Quran, and was really amazed at the verses which decribes the formation of embryo in the womb. There is no way a man in the Arabian desert 1400 years ago could know this. She embraced Islam one year after his son, followed by her husband. And Abdul Latif’s comment on what convinced her mother really made an impression on me. He said, “Allah shows what the person needs to see.”

When asked about his impressions on Muslims prior to his becoming a Muslim, he said he saw Islam as a religion full of rules and rituals, and he never saw the spiritual side of it, which was what he was really looking for to fill the emptiness in his heart.

Hiduplah bagai warga asing di perantauan

Post ini diringkaskan daripada artikel (dengan tajuk yang sama) tulisan Roslan Kassim dalam majalah Anis keluaran November 2010. Saya ingin kongsikan di sini sebab saya rasa perspektif yang dijelaskan menarik dan mengesankan.

Setiap kita datang ke dunia ini dengan tangan kosong, dibenarkan hidup untuk tempoh tertentu sehinggal ajal bertandang (yang tidak diketahui bila). Sepanjang tempoh itu, kita dibenarkan mundar-mandir mencari bekalan dan penghidupan di dunia ini. Orang yang bijak akan membuat simpanan dan pelaburan untuk kehidupan pada masa akan datang yang kekal abadi. Sebaliknya, mereka yang bodoh akan sibuk mengumpul harta dunia atau leka dengan permainan dan perhiasannya.

Rasulullah ada mengingatkan kita bahawa dunia ini adalah satu kembara. Sabda baginda: "Hiduplah kamu di dunia seolah-olah kamu ini warga asing atau pengembara di sebuah perjalanan." (Riwayat Imam Bukhari)

Maka, apakah ciri-ciri perantau/pengembara/orang dagang yang perlu kita fahami dan adaptasi? Antaranya:

1) Orang dagang itu tahu bahawa dia berada di tempat asing yang bukan kediaman kekal. Dia tahu dia berada di situ buat sementara waktu sahaja.

2) Orang dagang itu atau merantau itu tahu dengan jelas tujuan dia berada di tempat itu. Contohnya untuk mencari ilmu, mengumpul wang, dan sebagainya.

3) Orang dagang atau warga asing itu tidak terikat emosi dan rohaninya dengan tempat dia merantau. Hati dan ingatannya sentiasa terikat dengan tempat asalnya. Justeru dia hidup ala kadar sahaja tanpa perancangan jauh untuk tinggal tetap di tempat dia merantau.

4) Orang dagang itu berkeinginan satu hari nanti untuk kembali ke tempat asal. Kembalinya pula bukan dengan tangan kosong, tetapi membawa kejayaan, kemuliaan dan kemenangan.

5) Orang dagang berhati-hati dan patuh kepada undang-undang di tempat dia berada, kerana tidak mahu timbul sebarang masalah atau terpenjara di tempat dia merantau.

6) Orang dagang itu hatinya rindu dan ingin bertemu kembali dengan sanak saudara dan sahabat handai di tempat asal. Di tempat merantau tiada saudara atau sahabat sejati, hanya kawan dan kenalan.

7) Orang dagang di perantauan hanya hidup ala kadar, tidak memupuk harta kerana nanti apabila hendak balik ke tempat asal akan susah dan terbeban. Ini kerana payah atau tidak mungkin untuk membawa pulang banyak barang ke kampung halaman.

8) Orang berdagang di perantauan itu sangat kuat bergantung hati dengan Allah untuk medapat bantuan dan pertolongan. Sebab apa-apa pun boleh terjadi di luar jangkaan dan perancangannya.

Dalam aku, ada kamu

*Firstly I would like to apologize because I will be mixing Bahasa Malaysia with English liberally in this blog post.

Losing a parent is (almost) every child’s nightmare. Even one who has grown up to be a 30-year-old woman. It’s something that you can’t be prepared for. You have reminded yourself before that it will (might) happen one day, but the reality still hits you like 30-tonne truck moving at 100 km an hour. You know that people may go at anytime, but when it happens to someone you love, you have to learn that lesson again.

I miss Mok. So very much.

This pain, this void, this longing - it would never go away. I will learn to live with it. It will stay with me and be a part of who I am.

Menghadapi detik sukar seperti ini, saya bersyukur saya seorang Islam. Berikut perkara-perkara yang telah membantu menguatkan diri saya.

1) Konsep-konsep seperti ketentuan ajal, qadha’ dan qadar, redha dan sebagainya
Tidak terlintas di hati saya soalan-soalan seperti ‘why her?’ atau ‘why now?’. Meskipun sedih tidak terkata, tetapi insyaAllah saya redha dan menerima ketentuan ini, dan melebihkan fokus kepada meneruskan kehidupan.

2) Cinta kepada Allah dan Rasul hendaklah melebihi cinta sesama manusia
Bukanlah bermakna cinta saya kepada bonda saya kurang, tetapi saya harus sedar bahawa kehilangannya tidak harus membuatkan saya patah semangat atau berputus asa. Matlamat keberadaan kita di dunia fana ini haruslah jelas.

3) Doa anak masih sampai kepada arwah ibu bapa
Hubungan saya dengan arwah bonda saya tidak putus walaupun beliau telah berpindah ke alam berikutnya. Saya mahu istiqamah mendoakannya dan menyedekahkan amalan-amalan kebajikan kepadanya, insyaAllah.

4) Dunia ini sementara, akhirat jua yang kekal abadi
Semoga saya dan arwah bonda dimasukkan ke dalam syurga Allah, dan semoga saya akan dapat bertemu kembali dengan beliau di sana nanti, insyaAllah.

Setiap daripada kita ini, memang pinjaman semata-mata. Bila-bila masa Allah boleh ambil kita kembali. This is one of the things I had taken from this experience. It made me feel that I need to do more, much much more, in order to be prepared to leave at anytime. It made me feel like I need to focus more on the things that I want to do, rather than continue to do what I’m expected to do. To live fully. Because life is too short. Soal ajal memang tidak boleh buat main-main, tapi sebagai ilustrasi ringkas, jika umur saya sependek (atau sepanjang) arwah bonda, maknanya saya sudah berada di separuh umur yang kedua! Saya kini 30 tahun, dan arwah bonda pergi pada usia 55 tahun. 25 tahun ‘terakhir’ ini, jika saya darabkan dengan 365 hari, cuma tinggal 9,125 hari! Semoga saya dapat menterjemahkan perasaan saya ini kepada perbuatan-perbuatan konkrit dan tidak tinggal niat semata-mata. May Allah help me to improve on my many weaknesses.

Akhir sekali, saya ingin kongsikan sebuah puisi yang saya tulis bulan lepas, almost like an attempt to console myself (or perhaps just a mean to express my feelings). Some of the points are the things I have mentioned above.


ibu
melihat potretmu
rasa walang datang menghimpit dada
mengundang rindu yang tidak terungkapkan

dalam sebak aku bertanya
apakah kini
yang tinggal hanya foto
dan kenangan
yang kadangkala terasa segar
seperti baru berlaku kelmarin
tetapi kadangkala terasa rapuh
bagai menggenggam pasir

tidak

dalam tubuhku, mengalir darahmu
dalam akalku, tersemat pesananmu
dalam hatiku, terbenih cintamu
dalam amalku, terkesan didikanmu
dalam aku, ada kamu

sungguh, aku sayang padamu
sungguh, aku rindu padamu
dan kini aku hanya mampu
menitipkan doa buatmu
tidak kan putus

aku sabar menanti
saat kita kan bertemu kembali
di syurga Allah
insya-Allah.

Sungai Merab
21 Julai 2010

Ahlan ya Ramadan!

Selamat menyambut Ramadan kepada semua.
Ramadan mubarak Ramadan kareem!

Di bawah ini Seloka Ramadan tulisan Ustaz Hasrizal Abdul Jamil yang saya pinjam dari blog beliau:

Sirna senja di mega Shaaban
Menyambut tetamu bulan Ramadhan
Berbuah tangan sejuta tawaran
Belas kasih Tuhan yang Rahman

Setiap amal diganda kurniaan
Setiap huruf berlipat balasan
Syaitan terbelenggu berkurang peranan
Tinggal nafsu menanti latihan

Hajat dan keinginan dikekang ditahan
Seperti haiwan dalam kurungan
Perlu dijinak dengan al-Quran
Bersama zikir hati dan lisan

Bersahur jangan diawal-awalkan
Berbuka pula jangan lewatkan
Beragama jangan melampaui suruhan
Atau dikurang dan ringan-ringankan

Bersedekah bertilawah tadabbur al-Furqan
Hiasan Ramadhan jangan abaikan
Hasut bermusuhan dibalas jangan
“Aku berpuasa” slogan kemenangan

Berjamu selera jimat-jimatkan
Makan sekadar menurut keperluan
Gaza kelaparan jangan dilupakan
Banjir Pakistan jangan disepikan

Qiyam Ramadhan jangan ketinggalan
Solat Fardhu paling diutamakan
Jaga telinga jaga penglihatan
Bersih diri, hati dan keimanan

Andai ini Ramadhan perpisahan
Pulanglah dengan sejuta keampunan
Buat yang terbaik jadikan keazaman
Bersama-sama kita doakan…

Pahala, redha, dan ikhlas

Kita mula diperkenalkan dengan konsep pahala dan dosa kerana konsep ini lebih mudah berbanding dengan konsep mencari redha Allah. Dalam artikelnya, Ummu Husna telah menggunakan analogi memberi 'upah' gula-gula untuk memujuk anaknya mandi kerana si anak belum begitu faham mandi itu penting untuk membersihkan diri. Konsep 'redha Allah' juga, bukan mudah untuk diselami. What does that really mean? Bagi saya, saya kaitkan dengan istilah/konsep ' approve of'. Does He approve of me? Does He approve of this act, this decision? I want His approval. Bila anak saya bertanya, "Kenapa Ummi solat?" Saya tidak menjawab, "Supaya dapat pahala" atau "Supaya tak berdosa" tetapi saya menjawab, "Supaya Allah sayang." Satu hari, anak saya akan bertanya, "Kenapa Allah sayang kalau kita solat?" Sudahkah saya bersedia untuk menjawabnya?

Bagaimana dengan ikhlas? Kalau kita bersedekah kerana mahu orang memuji kita pemurah, jelaslah kita tidak ikhlas. Tapi kalau kita bersedekah kerana mahu pahala, adakah kita ikhlas? Adakah ikhlas hanya jika kita bersedekah kerana niat kita mahu membantu si penerima? Kadang-kadang apabila saya berasa penat dan bosan dengan sesetengah kerja rumah yang saya kurang gemar, saya cuba memotivasikan diri dengan berdoa di dalam hati, "Ya Allah, semoga aku dapat ganjaran." Tapi saya rasa bila saya berdoa begitu, seolah-olah saya tidak ikhlas untuk berkhidmat untuk keluarga saya. What do you think? Tapi perkara-perkara sebegini kompleks sebenarnya, bukan sejelas hitam berbeza dengan putih.

Kebiasaannya, ibu bapa merupakan guru pertama yang mengajar anak-anak membaca al-Quran dan bersolat, sekadar menyebut ibadah khusus sebagai contoh, dan secara umumnya, mendidik anak-anak berbuat baik. Apabila anak-anak berbuat baik, membaca al-Quran, dan bersolat, ibu bapa yang mengajar ada 'saham' pahalanya. Malahan si nenek dan datuk juga terkena tempias, kerana mereka yang telah mengajar si ibu dan bapa tadi. Faedah bertingkat begini, bagai MLM pula! (Ini yang buat semangat nak tambah 'downline' ni :) ) Tidak dilupakan, vice versa, apakah tempias pada kita jika menggalakkan orang lain berbuat sesuatu yang salah?

Sekali lagi, ikhlaskah mengajar seseorang (anak or otherwise) berbuat kebaikan jika kita mahukan pahala 'jariah'? But then again, satu-satu perbuatan boleh sahaja disertai dengan beberapa sebab dan niat, tetapi yang mana yang lebih dominan? Bagi saya, jika kita buat sesuatu sebab nak pahala masih ikhlas, tetapi lebih baik jika kita buat kerana Allah, dan lebih baik lagi sebab memang kita mahu buat, kerana ini petanda naluri kita sudah terdorong untuk membuat perkara-perkara yang Allah suka kalau kita buat. Wallahu a'lam. Semoga Allah mencampakkan keikhlasan dalam hati kita.

Dakwah corner at a kopitiam

This story was shared by Kak Aliya in her blog Musings of a Muallaf.


Kopitiam Puteri Hang Li Poh, opposite SMK Bestari, Kulim (but will move to Pacific Megamall, Perai on 16 June) is owned by Haji Ibrahim Tan. Haji Ibrahim said that the kopitiam serves two purposes; one for Islamic dakwah and another to serve good Chinese Muslim food.

In the words of Kak Aliya, "On each table was a transparent photo frame which bears the number of the table, and printed stories from the hadith. You may read the stories while waiting for the food. At a corner of the kopitiam were two bookshelves with English reading materials on Islam. You may read them while having your meals or borrow them."

Do you know of any other restaurants (or public places) having some sort of dakwah corner?

"O God, give me a sign!"

I read about this beautiful story from Dr Azwan's blog (click for full story) credit to him. Haven't managed to Google other sources in the net yet. I love reading stories about how people find Islam. To me, they're inspirational, they serve as reminders not to take my deen for granted and to continuously pray for Allah's hidayah and guidance.

An excerpt (the most interesting part):

The crucial moment of his conversion came one night, as he explained:

“One night I had just been speaking to a couple of Australian brothers at the mosque. They told me to take the Qur’an home and read it. I had already taken one, but they gave me this one with big letters - the other one I had was little and was harder to read. That night I sat in bed and lit a candle. I had the window open. It was a nice summer’s night. It had this atmosphere, this religious atmosphere. I was set, and I was sitting there thinking, ‘This is beautiful and very sacred!’

“Everything was really good and I started reading Qur’an and thinking, ‘This is very beautiful, it says exactly what I think it should say.’ It feels like it’s right you know, but I’m not quite there, you know! I just need a bit of a hand. And I sat back, Qur’an in hand, and said, ‘O God, give me a sign! But it has to be pretty good - like lightning,’ - and it was a clear summer’s night. ‘If you do lightning, I’m yours - I’m your servant. And maybe if you can’t do lightning - something like a crack or something; or a flash of light; or the candle! I would be pretty impressed if the candle just blew up to about two feet high, you know, like in the movies!”

“And I’m sitting there waiting!”. . . . .

“Nothing at all happened! Like I couldn’t even say a creak in the wall was my sign! So I’m sitting there pretty disappointed, and I’m angry . . Right? And I’m like, ‘God, I’m asking you. You’re supposed to be All-Powerful! Alright - I’m going to give you a second chance.’ Like that was a fair bit to ask - summer, lightning! ‘Okay, maybe like, a car can just backfire that goes past - that’s something that happens all the time, but at least I’ll know it’s for me.’ So I lowered my levels . . Right?

“Subhan’Allah!” (Exalted is Allah) he exclaims, shaking his head at the very thought of it. “And I’m sitting there thinking, ‘Alright!’ So I look around again - Nothing! All is so silent . . I could have been in space. Not even an ant made a noise, and by this time I was shattered, because this was the moment! I had thought, ‘This is it!’ you know, ‘This is my time!’ . . . And nothing happened!”

“So I’m sitting there, pretty disappointed, and I thought, ‘I may as well keep on reading Qur’an”. So I looked down and turned the page, and the very next ayat (verse) was something to the effect: For those of you who ask for signs, have I not shown you enough already? Look around at the sky, the trees, the water, these are your signs. These are the Signs for those who know!”

“Lo! In the creation of the heavens and the earth, and the difference of night and day, and the ships which run upon the sea with that which is of use to men, and the water which Allah sendeth down from the sky, thereby reviving the earth after its death, and dispersing all kinds of beasts therein, and (in) the ordinance of the winds, and the clouds obedient between heaven and earth: are signs (of Allah's Sovereignty) for people who have sense.” Surah 2:162

“I was sitting down; I freaked out! I closed the Qur’an and chucked the quilt over my head. I was freaking out because here it was! You know what I mean?”

“So the next morning I went straight to the mosque and told them I wanted to become Muslim, because I had had my sign. I had it, even thought it was not my sign. I shouldn’t be arrogant and think I have a sign.

Isn’t the water my sign and all these things around me are signs, you know, that there is a Creator!”

Raising Children - Part 2

Continued from previous post:

6.) I wasn't afraid to be the Bad Guy, but I never behaved badly.

I know more than one mother who doesn't feel comfortable telling her child to pray or maybe to dress more modestly, thinking that her kid will be "mad" at her if she starts holding him/her to higher standards. I know of a couple of fathers who have turned a blind eye to certain immoral behaviors witnessed in their teenagers, never once speaking out, telling their exasperated wives, "I don't want to judge our kids. It's a tough age and they have to fit in."

The adults I've asked for parenting advice had no qualms about upsetting their children from time to time.

"There were times when I knew that I shouldn't go to this place or go out with that person, but I would ask Ammi anyway, wanting her to be the one to put her foot down…and she always did," remembers my brother. "Kids want their parents to set limits and be authority figures, even if they won't admit it."

"I enjoy my children's company; we laugh together, we read the same books, we even share each other's clothes," chuckles one mother of two teenage daughters who race to give up their seats for her. "But at the end of the day, they know that I am their Mother. I am friendly with them, but they cannot treat me like a girlfriend."

"Weakness in those who are supposed to be in a position of authority only invites contempt," contends a mother of two. "It's important to know who's boss."

One father of four looks back on his youth and laughs appreciatively, "My mother didn't worry about not `rocking the boat' when we were in high school. She was willing to capsize the boat if she found us doing something that wasn't okay with her!"

Other parents impressed upon me the importance of having high expectations of their children. "We have to gently push kids out of their comfort zones," an Afghan father says. "If you expect more, your kids will often pleasantly surprise you, but it's important to communicate those expectations. "

One mother always assumed that her children would eventually begin praying simply because they saw that prayer was a priority for her. When a friend asked her why her ten-year-old daughter didn't join the other girls for prayer, this mom realized that she had never communicated her hopes to her own daughter. "It was only a matter of discussing it!" she exclaims with genuine surprise. "I sat her down for a serious `grown-up' talk. I said, `Honey, you're older now and prayer needs to be a regular part of your routine.' She listened so attentively! When Asr came in, she ran to get her prayer rug and misbaha (prayer beads) and joined me for salaah. She's the one who wakes me for Fajr now. It's almost as if she was just waiting for me to tell her, `This is what I expect of you'."

While these parents were quick to lay down the law with their children, there was one "old world law" that they all shied away from — corporal punishment. "We did not hit our children," they say adamantly.

One grandmother feels very strongly about this issue. "Only uneducated, uncivilized people who are incapable of communication resort to hitting little kids."

"Well, there might be a place for a good old fashioned spanking every now and then," argues a mother of four college students. "When my daughter was four years old, she ran out in public without her underwear on for the umpteenth time. In my opinion, it was too dangerous to let her keep getting away with that kind of behavior, so I finally let her have it. She got the message and never forgot it…and I never had to spank her again."

Physically beating your children for the simplest infractions seemed to be an acceptable mode of discipline a generation or so ago. The parents I spoke with are loath to raise their hands on their kids. "Every time you hit your kids, you have to keep upping the levels," a financial analyst tells me. "I knew of a parent who used to twist her kids' ears. After a while, that had no effect, so she started smacking them on their hands. When the desired behaviors were no longer obtained using that method, she resorted to swatting them on their bottoms and shaking them in frustration. I mean, where does it end?"

I spent a good portion of the afternoon just yesterday baking banana crumb muffins from scratch. I offered one to a son of mine and sent him out on the back deck to enjoy his snack. As I watched in horror from the kitchen window, I saw him breaking off big chunks of the fresh muffins and forcefully slamming them down on to the floorboards outside. I rushed out the door and surveyed the crumbs all over the deck, the same deck I had washed just that morning. "What are you doing?!" I screeched.

He looked up in surprise. "Oh."

"WHAT are you doing?!"

"I'm trying to kill a spider that's bothering me."

I clenched my hands at my side and whispered through gritted teeth, "Son, please walk away from me right now. I'm very upset and I am sure that I will spank you if you are near me and this mess. I need time to cool off, so you better run."

His eyes grew wide and he scampered off.

I'm so grateful that Allah Subhana wa Ta'ala allowed me to restrain myself in that moment of anger. The crumbs were easily swept up, there were still plenty of muffins left, my son learned his lesson about not wasting food, and I was eventually able to laugh at his logic for dealing with arachnids…but only after an hour had passed. Letting out my frustration on him by hitting him might have felt good in that moment, but the resulting misery would have lasted much longer…for both of us.

7.) I always kept them close by.

I wasn't surprised to see that nearly all of the families I spoke with had the mother at home caring for the children, but I was shocked by how many of the families shared the same steadfast rule — "No sleepovers."

"Every night I know which bed my kid is sleeping in," says a homeschooling mom of two and wife of a university professor. "And that bed is one I can check on whenever I want."

"Friends were always welcome to come to our home for sleepovers," reminisces a young woman who grew up with a twin brother. "My mom went all out — popcorn during midnight movies, pancakes for breakfast, privacy for chatting and giggling late into the night. But we could never sleep in anyone else's home unless our parents were there with us."

"I saw too many weird things in other friends' homes when I was younger…and that was just during the daytime," remembers an attorney and father of three. "The first time my best friend saw a dirty magazine was when he spent the night at his neighbor's house. I might have resented their strictness a bit when I was younger, but in my heart I knew that my parents were right to keep us in our clean, safe, and cozy home."

"I never let them go far from me when they were little," explains a mother of two when asked by me how to raise a dutiful son like hers. "My kids could have gone on camping trips and overnight field trips with other parents as chaperones, but unless my husband or I were there, they didn't go. My husband was once willing to consider a prestigious boarding school for one of our `gifted' children, but I said, `No way.' I just couldn't let my family be split in different directions; the time we had with them was already short enough."

"No nannies or daycares for our family," says a grandmother of five. "And don't think that I wasn't tempted! I raised three babies on my own without any help from grandmothers or aunts. A one income family meant that we only took local vacations and drove second-hand cars. We lived in a small home. I went back to work only after the kids were in school, but I was always at home in time to greet them with a smile, a hug, and an after-school snack. Even now, my children tell me that the smell of peanut butter and jelly gives them a feeling of security."

8.) We didn't spoil our kids nor did we praise them too much.

"It's important to me that my kids don't grow up ingrained in this Sibling Society," a college professor and father of three tells me.

When asked the definition of a "sibling society", he explains that it's the environment where grown adults behave and are treated like children. "We've extended adolescence where we excuse bad behavior by saying `Oh, he's just going through that rebellious phase. He's only sixteen; he'll outgrow it.' Outgrow it when? Throughout history, puberty has been considered the onset of adulthood; nowadays we have university graduates who behave like babies — tantrums, irresponsible behavior, no sense of accountability. "

This father celebrates his children's birthdays every year by giving them a new toy…and a new duty. "When my son turns seven, he'll get that monster truck he's been craving, but he'll also get a new responsibility for the year — he has to make sure that all the doors in the house are locked before going to bed."

He and his wife believe that having responsibilities, even small ones, inculcates in children a sense of contribution and chivalry.

I was recently given cause to reflect when a friend of mine politely refused an invitation for her daughter to recite her award-winning poem at a masjid event. "Masha'Allah, she has received a lot attention and praise this past week for that poem," she sighed. "The other day she just happened to be interviewed for a local science program on television too. I just don't think it's beneficial for her nafs (ego) to be in the spotlight too much, so I'm going to have to say `no'."

This mother believes that praise becomes "cheap" when it is given for that which children have no control over; she feels that kids should have to "earn" the praise that comes their way. "What's the point in telling a child who always gets A's, `You're so smart'? Or telling a pretty child, `You're so beautiful'? Telling a child who's struggled through an assignment, `I'm proud of how hard you worked on that difficult worksheet' is so much more meaningful."

One mother who is often asked the secret behind her kids' contentment with life has this theory to offer: "It's actually something I've discovered by accident. We have never been motivated to buy the latest gadgets and gizmos for our kids. To compensate for the things that we won't buy, we give them something that's free yet still very valuable — our time. I bake with them, their dad wrestles. We snuggle on the couch and read together. I think they're rarely dissatisfied with material goods because they are just so grateful for what little they do get. They don't have a sense of entitlement. And since whining has never worked anyway, they just don't bother."

The father adds, "Well, to be honest, we are spoiling them, except that we're spoiling them with something that's lasting, not fleeting — our love."

9.) Talk to your kids.

I was once singing "Rain, rain, go away; Come again another day; Shaan and Ameen want to play" with my kids when my brother interrupted us.

"Don't teach them that! Rain is a blessing! You don't want them rejecting blessings just because they want `fun'," he chided.

After experimenting with the lyrics, we ended up singing, "Rain, rain, pour, pour, pour; You're a mercy from our Lord; Rain, rain, fall on me; I turn to Allah gratefully." To this day, whenever dark clouds dampen a day that they had hoped to spend outside, my kids console one another by saying, "It's okay. California needs the rain. Allah is being Kind to us."

This suggestion by my brother is a reminder of another piece of advice that families have repeatedly given me — "Never miss out on a teaching moment."

"When your kids are younger, you should take advantage of every opportunity to guide them, remind them, advise them," instructs an Iraqi father of two girls. "Of course, there's a fine line between nagging and teaching, between being judgmental and being perceptive. Nevertheless, I encourage my children to look at everything through `the eye of discernment' . What does everything around us mean? Why is that billboard saying that their brand of soda will guarantee a successful party? What was the real reason that car driver honked his horn like that? Why does this movie make parents look like bumbling fools? Is having to wait in a long line ever a reason to lose your temper with a bank teller? Talk, talk, talk to your kids! Even if they don't say anything, believe me, they're listening!"

"I want to get my `voice' into my kids' heads while they're young," says one mom. "There are so many forces competing for our kids' minds; I want to get in while I can. There will come a time when we all have to let go, but I'm hopeful that my children will always remember their root values once they're out on their own, insha'Allah. "

The families I've admired have all made a point of being "present" with their children, answering their questions patiently and respectfully, not getting annoyed with their seemingly random thoughts. The kids feel that they can ask any question and discuss any subject without any judgment on the part of the parents.

"You know that cliche `There's no such thing as a dumb question'?" asks a Persian friend. "Well, that was always true in our family. I could ask my mom anything, and I was always confident that I would get an honest answer. There were times when I was told that I would have to wait a bit before she was ready to teach me certain truths, but I was able to be patient because I knew that the truth was eventually coming."

10.) They had a pious father who engaged them.

Yes, there are pious mothers who have raised wonderful Muslim kids despite having husbands who not only didn't support them, but even disapproved of their attempts to teach their kids the basics about the deen. And there are single moms who are doing an incredible service to the Ummah by sacrificing, striving, and successfully raising the next generation of believers. We all are more than aware that the mother is the first madrassa (school). And there are examples after examples of mothers who spend the night on the prayer mat weeping in prostration for the future of their families; their secrets are known only to Allah.

But over and over I have seen lackadaisical mothers with pious husbands…and the kids have turned towards their fathers like flowers to the sun. How many of us know of young adults who roll their eyes at their mothers' religiosity while holding their "fun-loving" , worldly, secular fathers up as paragons of rationalism and intelligence? There is a power that fathers have over their offspring, the depth of which we can never fully comprehend; the truth manifests itself when we witness which parent the kid most often chooses to emulate.

A majority of the families I spoke with extolled the virtues of the Amir of the House: the man who led his children in congregational prayer, the father who gently but firmly encouraged his daughter's modesty, the husband who fulfilled his wife's rights without demanding his own, the responsible breadwinner, the dad who put a stop to gossip the moment it started, the Muslim who held fast to his principles (whether it was a father who refused to allow his co-workers to shorten his name from "Mohammad" to "Mo" or the dad who wouldn't travel on Fridays so that his Jumah prayer wouldn't be jeopardized ). The grown children remember their father's integrity and quiet examples long after they have entered parenthood on their own, voluntarily choosing to mold their own lives in honor of a man who didn't force his way of life down their throats when they were younger.

"My mother lectured and taught and scolded and reminded us the entire time we were growing up," one mother of three sons remembers with amusement. "My father told me maybe only five things related to the deen my whole life…and yet I remember every single one; I've never forgotten. I only wish he had shared his thoughts with me more often."

IN CONCLUSION

While I have always been a fan of "how to" and "top ten" lists, I have never allowed myself to be deluded into believing that there are any guarantees for raising righteous children. It hasn't been lost on me that the greatest man in humanity, the Prophet Muhammad (salallaahu alaihi wasallam), was intially raised by a single mom…and that too after being sent away to live amongst the bedouins in the desert while still a baby. Many of the "rules" here didn't apply to his blessed life. His was a singular circumstance, having been raised by Allah Subhana wa Ta'ala Himself. All we can do is try to lay out a safe framework in hopes of trying to reach what he (salallaahu alaihi wasallam) reached through Allah's largesse.

If we want to be successful at something, it behooves us to look at those who have succeeded before us. Each of us has something we can learn from the experiences of another.

There may be some who will read through the list of tips I have collected and think, "We didn't do any of those things, yet our kids turned out just fine!"

To them, I say, "Alhamdulillah! " It's true that there are many kids who didn't have a single one of these "rules" applied to their lives, and, by the Grace and Mercy of Allah, have turned out to be exemplary Muslims.

And without going into unnecessary details, I will say that I have also seen the most pious, practicing, loving parents be disappointed by their children at every turn. These parents are in the company of prophets like Prophet Adam and Prophet Nuh (upon whom be peace) who had sons who rejected their teachings — yet these were fathers who were from among the best of humanity, parents who were in a constant state of supplication and prayer, who received guidance from Above. We can only pray that Allah Subhana wa Ta'ala will not test us through our children the way He tested these great men and their wives. It's interesting to note that many of the men and women in my article have confessed that there were times they felt that they had failed in their duties as parents but took heart knowing that with Allah's help all obstacles could be overcome. Eventually, they all came to the conclusion that there was only "so much" they could do; they needed to submit to Allah's will.

There is great comfort in knowing that parents will be rewarded not for how our children "turn out" but for the intentions we had while raising them, for the steps we took to facilitate their deeni success. All we can do is take the means; the end is up to Allah. "Even if one's kids go astray," advises a scholar, "one should always leave a `door' open for them and pray that they will one day `come back'. We should never cut off relations; we should never despair of Allah's Mercy and Guidance."

"Parenting and living in this dunya is such a struggle," reflects one friend. "We have aspirations of who we want to be as parents and we strive to achieve them, and then are saddened by seeing our failures. I guess it's really about the courage to continue to renew one's intentions and to pray for tawfiq (success)."

None of the parents I interviewed felt "safe" or believed that they had won and were now done with their work. They continued to pray for daily tawfiq long after everyone had started lauding them for the fine job they had done raising their children. "It doesn't matter how wonderfully we live our lives," says one local scholar and father of two girls. "What really matters is how we end our lives (husn al-khatima)…we' re not safe until we die with imaan (faith) in our hearts."

It is with that knowledge that we pray that Allah Subhana wa Ta'ala grants us the dua for "a pure progeny" that He granted Prophet Ibrahim, Prophet Zakariya, and the mother of Maryam (upon them all be peace). We pray that we are able to be worthy teachers for our children who will carry this noble religion on, a precious trust to be handed from one generation to the next. May we not be "the weak link". Aameen.

Raising Children - Part 1

The following is an interesting read on Islamic parenting, which I received via email forwards. Since it's quite long, I'm breaking it to two parts. Credits to the author, Hina Khan-Mukhtar.

Raising Children in Deen and Dunya

I still vividly remember the first night I spent by myself in the hospital after delivering my eldest son Shaan. The guests were gone for the day, the hallway lights were dimmed, the nurses were speaking outside my room in muted tones.

"Knock, knock!" came a cheerful voice from the doorway. "Someone's hungry and wants his mommy!"

The nurse wheeled in the crib that held my newborn, only a few hours old at the time. She cooed over him as I struggled to sit up, then efficiently handed him into my waiting arms, bustling out of the room after giving me a few words of encouragement.

I pulled the blanket away from his cheek and smiled in awe at this fragile, little creature who was being left alone with me for the first time ever. I felt privileged to be trusted with his care, overwhelmed with the weight of responsibility. No one was watching over my shoulder; he was all mine and I could do whatever I wanted.

I felt it was an appropriate time to take care of something that no one had thought of arranging so far — introductions.

"Assalaamu alaikum," I whispered to the warm bundle nestled against my chest, "I'm your mommy." I stroked his face and then asked the rhetorical question that every mother has asked since time immemorial. "Now…how am I going to raise you?"

It's a question that I have continued to ask since that first magical night in the maternity ward.

I've asked it of grandparents, parents, sons, and daughters. I've asked it of Pakistanis, Indians, Afghans, Arabs, Americans, Asians, and Africans. I've sat people down at parties, emailed friends' parents, called up aunties on the telephone, and stopped uncles on their way out the door. Any family whose practice of Islam has impressed me, any child whose manners have stunned me, any teenager whose conduct with his or her sibling has given me reason for pause, any adult whose balance of deen (religion) and dunya (world) has wowed me, I have accosted and asked,

"What exactly did your parents do with you?!"
"How did you raise your children?!"
"I beg you, tell me the secret of bringing up Mu'mineen like the ones I see in your home!"

What I have found in my years of "field research" is that nearly all of these families have stumbled upon the same basic secrets to success. While many of them don't necessarily know one another, time and time again they have given me the same advice, the same tips, the same rules. I would catalogue their stories in my head, thinking I could easily remember them later. So when I was recently approached with the request for an article on Muslim parenting tips, I jumped at the chance to put it all down in writing and thus preserve the valuable insights I have gathered over the course of the past twelve years or so.

Here then, for my benefit and yours, are the tips from the "experts", the tried-and-true heroes who have worked hard at (and, insha'Allah, succeeded at) securing their children's minds, hearts, and souls. These words come from those parents — like you — whose primary purpose in life has been to direct their sons and daughters onto the Path they believe will earn them the Pleasure of their Creator and the respect of their fellow human beings. Some of the advice may seem "common sense", the type you could hear on any daytime talk show or read in any self-help book. Other tips genuinely surprised me at how specific and unyielding they were in their insistence that "This is the only way". While there has been a whole variety of advice given to me, I have noticed a pattern emerging where the same ten "Rules of the Game" seem to keep reappearing in different shapes and forms; it is those dominant tips that I have chosen to focus on for the purpose of my article.

I have seen with my own eyes children under the age of ten who willingly set their own alarms to get up for Tahajjud prayer. I have hosted a young soccer marvel in my home who begins his day before mine by reciting Quran at Fajr. I know of an Ivy League university student who insisted on turning the car around because she realized she had left home without giving her mother salaams. I have been acquainted with doctors who make more money in a single month than most people make in a single year yet choose to live in small homes with no mortgages so that their salaries can be spent supporting scholars of Islam. My husband and I work with a young man who once flew with his mother to Jordan, then turned around and returned on the next flight home — all of this so that his single mother didn't have to travel across the world alone. I have witnessed fourth graders who were able to sit quietly with impeccable etiquette in front of Muslim scholars while the adults around them stretched, yawned, and sighed. I have heard children silence their young friends with urgent reminders, "Don't say that about him! It's backbiting!"

A sign of someone whom Allah loves is that when you see him/her, you remember Allah. The examples I have listed here are all people who have caused me to wonder about my own station with Allah in relation to theirs; they have motivated me to at least try to change, to improve. I'm sure readers will agree that, although Allah Alone knows the hidden reality of hearts, these people at least seem to have triumphed both in their embodiment of the true spirit of Islam and in their practical participation in the dunya. I pray that Allah Subhana wa Ta'ala will continue to send examples like them into our lives so that we may continue to learn and implement that which draws us closer to Him. Aameen.

1.) Dua, Dua, Dua

"None of this is from us," insists one mother of three UC Berkeley graduates who have never voluntarily missed a single prayer. "Everything begins and ends with dua. It is only by His Generosity that we have been blessed with believing children; we had nothing to do with it. Now that we have it, we try to hold onto it by showing gratitude and not taking it for granted."

Every single family I have "interviewed" about raising children in this day and age inevitably began by reminding me about the power of supplication. "Every success I have seen in my family's life, I can remember having prayed for it first," admits one grandmother of three huffadh (memorizers of Quran). "If my dua doesn't come true in this world, I have faith that it will in the next one, so I have patience."

Another mother of four tells me, "I recited Surah Maryam every single day of my pregnancy. I want pious children above all else — it's all that matters."

A convert friend of mine suggests that couples who are about to embark on the path of parenthood should ask themselves, "Why do we even want children?" She believes in renewing one's intentions on a daily basis. "Who are we doing this for?" When she gets embarrassed by something her children say or do, she questions herself, "Why am I upset? Is it because I'm afraid that they're doing something displeasing to Allah? Or is it because I'm afraid that they're displeasing people?"

Her unwavering dua is that her children live their lives seeking only His pleasure.

Many families shared with me their reliance on Salaat-ul-Istikhaar a (Prayer for Guidance) before making any major life-altering decisions and Salaat-ul-Haajah (Prayer for Need) when desiring something they felt was crucial for their children's well-being.

"All that I have is due to my mother's duas," believes one mother of five children. "She was the one who was always praying for us, even when we forgot to."

2.) Suhba (companionship) will make you or break you.

"There were times we sacrificed our own friendships in order to do what was best for our children," a couple married for sixteen years tells me. When pressed for reasons why one would end a relationship, they explain, "Before we had children, we had friends who `drank socially', who played poker, who hosted dance parties. Once our kids were born, we avoided those types of atmospheres. Our social gatherings are now the type where both the respected elders and the innocent children feel welcome and comfortable. "

"It doesn't necessarily need to be that it's the `drinking, gambling, partying crowd' that is holding you back," muses a mother of elementary school children upon hearing the couple's history. "I have one set of `dinner party friends' who believe in a `children should be seen and not heard' philosophy. They plant the kids around TV sets and video games while the parents socialize in other rooms. Then I have another group of friends who engage their children in the adult conversations, who don't keep the younger ones `out of sight, out of mind'. It's not much of a mystery which set of adults my own kids prefer to be around."

"Sometimes I look around at the people I hang with and I think `What happened?'" laughs a mother who has chosen to homeschool her three kids. "None of these people are the type I would have chosen as friends when I was younger, but I admire the way they live their lives and crave the peace and tranquility they trail behind them everywhere they go. They have a sense of purpose and an awareness of Allah in everything they do. I want to pass those qualities on to my own kids, so here we are."

"Suhba is of the utmost importance. If you sleep with the dogs, don't be surprised if you rise with the fleas," a respected scholar advises. The words that struck me the hardest with their wisdom? "When you sit with People of the Dunya, you become a drop in their ocean, but when you sit with People of the Akhira, the dunya becomes a drop in your ocean."

"A person is known by who their friends are," my mother always reminded us.

"I had a girlfriend whose company I really enjoyed," remembers one mother wistfully. "She was the best person to share a cup of tea with, to go shopping with." So what happened? "She and her husband decided that they weren't going to raise their children as Muslims. Even though we liked each other a lot, we just didn't see eye to eye on what was appropriate for kids. There were certain behaviors in her home that were complete anathema to us. I decided that I couldn't have an independent friendship with the mom; at some point her kids were going to start influencing my kids, and we needed to part ways…so we did."

One father confesses with a sheepish laugh, "I don't know if our children are so God-conscious because of anything we necessarily did. My nieces are very spiritual young women, and my own daughters were always drawn to them. I think we got lucky that our children wanted to follow in their older cousins' footsteps."

"On the Day of Judgment, you'll be standing with the ones you loved most in the dunya," reminds another well-loved scholar, "so choose your friends wisely."

More than one parent has gushed about the power a charismatic aunt or uncle, imam, halaqa leader, or Sunday School teacher has had over their young ones. Many of the adults gave up a good portion of their weekends, driving long distances to take their children to gatherings and events where they hoped their children would benefit from being around like-minded people. "I firmly believe that no friends are better than bad friends," states a father of five childen, "but I did go the extra mile to make sure that my kids did have friends with whom they connected."

"Sometimes kids start to tune out what the parents say because it's all been said before," a mother of a middle schooler smiles. "My own parents told me to pray all my life, but it wasn't until I connected with an articulate teacher who explained how prayer was for our benefit that I finally got the message…and it was my friends who led me to that teacher."

3.) The Prophet (salallaahu alaihi wasallam) was a living, breathing reality in our lives.

"What better suhba is there than one who reminds another of the deen? Can there be a better `companion' than the Prophet (salallaahu alaihi wasallam)?" asks a UCLA graduate married to a doctor who also does interfaith work for Islam.

When a learned scholar was recently asked, "What should we teach our children?", his response was swift and unequivocal — "The seerah (biography of the Prophet) and nasheeds (devotional songs of praise). If your kids love the Prophet, they will automatically love Allah."

"The best way to call people to Islam is to have them fall in love with the Prophet," insists another scholar. "Children should fear and love Allah, but teach them about the love first. They can learn about the fear when they're older. And who loved Allah more than the Prophet (salallaahu alaihi wasallam)?"

An eight-year-old recently burst into tears when he realized that his mother had neglected to wake him up for the Fajr prayer. The adults who were present exchanged glances, wondering what kind of terror the parents must have driven into this young one's heart. Was he afraid that Allah was going to punish him? Did he think he was going to burn in hell? Upon inquiry, the child revealed that the real cause of his distress was the knowledge that he had neglected something the Prophet (salallaahu alaihi wasallam) took very seriously, something he had exhorted the believers about on his death bed. Needless to say, the mother has been vigilant about waking her son on time for prayer ever since.

Many of the parents made it a regular part of the daily routine to recite the sunnah duas — the duas for beginning and ending meals, the duas for entering and leaving the home, the duas for studying — until it became automatic. It isn't a surprise for guests in their homes to see children as young as three reciting the dua for traveling as they get strapped into their car seats. "We didn't minimize any sunnah in our home," one Pakistani-American father tells me. "Once you start to think, `Oh, that sunnah isn't a big deal; we can ignore it', you've entered dangerous territiory. What comes next?"

"A co-worker recently asked me to name one thing that makes Islam different from other faiths," my brother-in-law once shared with me. "Among other things, I told him that with Islam I got a prophetic example for how to live my day-to-day life. No other prophet's life is so carefully recorded as our Prophet's (salallaahu alaihi wasallam)."

With toddlers and pre-schoolers, I noticed that a lot of the parents mentioned the Prophet Muhammad (salallaahu alaihi wasallam) as if he were a relevant person in their lives. They talked about him the way one would talk about any respected elder whom the child adored. It wasn't unusual to hear parents telling their little ones, "The Prophet Muhammad (salallaahu alaihi wasallam) loved green, so let's wear our green clothes for Friday Prayer!" or "Prophet Muhammad (salallaahu alaihi wasallam) taught us that we should sit down when we get angry, so let's sit down since you're feeling so frustrated."

While visiting my sister in Southern California one weekend, I noticed that an English translation of Imam Tirmidhi's "Shama'il" (Characteristics) sat on my six-year-old nephew's beside table. She informed me that it was part of their son's bedtime ritual for her husband to share one hadith from that famous ninth century text with him. "Knowing personal things like the fact that the Prophet (salallaahu alaihi wasallam) liked to eat dates with cucumbers makes our son feel like he actually knows the Prophet (salallaahu alaihi wasallam)."

"Today's generation is so fortunate, masha'Allah, " says one grandmother. "When our children were younger, there was hardly any quality Islamic literature or media out there. Today's kids have so many choices! My grandchildren go through a different seerah book every year. They are constantly humming new songs about the Prophet (salallaahu alaihi wasallam). I pray that they always find joy in learning about (and then following) their Prophet, insha'Allah. "

4.) Having fun wasn't "haraam" in our home, but we kept the home environment as pure as possible.

It would be extremely remiss of me if I failed to mention that every single family I interviewed emphasized the need to severely limit exposure to entertainment media — television in particular, but internet and video games included. There were some families who didn't have a television set in the house at all, while there were others who allowed their children to watch pre-screened Saturday morning cartoons or a family night movie. Computers were always set in a public area of the house where email exchanges and internet research were conducted on a set schedule under the watchful eyes of involved parents.

"If Shaytan (Satan) were to ring our doorbell and ask if he could come in and babysit our children, we would throw him out," one scholar says, "yet we allow the television set to do exactly that…we literally invite Shaytan in when we turn the TV on!"

"Preserving my children's fitra (primordial state) is of the highest priority to us," one mother of two pre-schoolers tells me. "Right now, the difference between right and wrong is so clear in their eyes; they really get it when we explain what's what to them. The entertainment industry's depiction of what's `normal' manages to confuse adults, so just imagine what it does to children!"

"We're Indian, but we never watched Bollywood films in our home," a friend admits matter-of-factly. "We didn't have bhangra dance parties; we didn't wear revealing clothing like skimpy saris and sleeveless blouses; we weren't allowed to be overly chummy with our guy cousins."

Basically, what she's letting me know is that what is often excused as "culture" was not allowed to contradict the Islamic shariah her parents taught her to respect.

"But don't think we were bored or deprived!" she is quick to reassure me. "My parents inculcated in us a love of Urdu poetry. We read classic English literature aloud to one another in the evenings and went on father-daughter hikes in the mornings. My mother showed us how to garden, my father taught us how to fish. My brother had a paper route; the younger ones were Girl Scouts. We had a home life full of energy and activity."

"It's important to replace every haraam you stop your child from with at least two halaals they can enjoy," advises a popular Muslim family counselor. "You don't want your children to grow up thinking that Islam is just a bunch of no's — `no, you can't do this; no, you can't do that.'" She laughs heartily, "Make it about `yes, we can!'"

I have a Yemeni friend who has taken that philosophy to heart with gusto. She and her husband may not throw birthday or New Year's Eve parties, but you should see the festivities they do arrange. When her twins memorized the thirtieth juz (chapter of the Quran), the picnic in the park was enjoyed with two separate gourmet cakes and party favors for all. When this same brother-sister team went on to memorize the twenty-ninth juz, they came home from school to discover their bedrooms decorated with streamers and presents. My five-year-old son Raahim and his pre-school buddies recently memorized ten surahs under this auntie's guidance, and she was quick to organize a party complete with a pinata, awards, balloons, and treats. With memories like these, Muslim adults are bound to look back on their childhoods as a time filled with celebrations, insha'Allah.

"There is so much fitna (tribulation) out there in the world. We can't protect our kids from everything bad," warns a devout grandfather of ten children. "But it is for that very reason that the home must be an oasis where Allah is remembered and obeyed, where children can relax and feel cherished, where they can practice their religion without feeling apologetic or alien. The home environment should be as halaal as possible. Our litmus test was always `Would we be ashamed if the Prophet (salallaahu alaihi wasallam) were to walk into our house right now? Is there anything we would want to hide?'."

The result of this family's "test" was a tidy, simply furnished home where the television set was absent and books lined the shelves. Flowers bloomed outside every window, intricate Islamic calligraphy adorned the walls, and healthful food was served with generosity and enthusiasm to all who entered. The sense of serenity in the air was something tangible.

I'll never forget what one daughter of a highly respected elder in the community told me when I asked her how her siblings remained so close to their parents despite being raised in a small town with only a handful of Muslims. Didn't they ever rebel? How did they resist the siren song of the un-Islamic peer culture around them? "If you feel love in your home, you don't look for it anywhere else."

5.) Our parents didn't just "talk the talk", they "walked the walk".

In other words, they practiced what they preached.

"I don't get it when I hear mothers telling their kids `Don't tell lies' and then in the next breath smoothly tell phone callers, `Oh, he's not home right now' when the husband is sitting right there in front of them," says a medical school resident who is spending time learning Hanafi fiqh as well. "Or how about when parents teach their kids `It's wrong to backbite' and then complain about the in-laws to anyone who will listen? It's just beyond me."

When pressed for examples of not succumbing to hypocrisy in his own family life, he says that his parents taught him and his siblings the importance of prayer and then never allowed them to miss any, even if it meant praying in the middle of Disneyland. "Our dad taught us that while there might be a time for fun and play, it never comes at the expense of giving up our duties to Allah. And since he was always the first to stand up for prayer, we just naturally followed."

Another experienced mother gave me this age-old advice, "You can teach your kids the rules of prayer all you want, but if you're not going to pray, they're not going to pray. Children learn from what their parents do, not just what they say."

"But it's not enough to just teach your children to pray," interjects another mother who was raised a secular Jew but is now Muslim. "What about how you pray? Do you have presence in your prayer? Are you sad if you ever miss a prayer? Those lessons are all just as important as learning to pray."

I was once working with an African-American convert friend when the time for Maghrib prayer came in. I had been busy taking care of some tasks, but I stopped and said, "Well, I guess I better go get my prayer out of the way."

Startled, she looked up and then chuckled. "In our house, we say we're going to get prayer `in the way'."

SubhanAllah, what a difference one word makes! What a difference in attitude!

"I was sitting in my room reciting my morning dhikr while the kids were completing an art project in the family room," an Egyptian friend shared with me the other day. "It suddenly struck me that I always recite my litanies in private, so I got up and joined them in their area of the house. They continued to paint while I continued with my prayers. They need to see me doing this…and they need to see me doing this happily."

The other day one of my sons became frustrated while searching for an elusive pencil in the writing desk. He shoved papers aside and slammed the drawer shut when no pencil materialized, grumbling the entire time. I began to lecture him about the merits of patience when I realized that I had behaved in the exact same manner while looking for my keys a few days earlier. Children really are like sponges; they soak in everything around them. "Garbage in, garbage out," cautions one teacher.

"Children need to see that Islam `worked' in our home," says another scholar. "Islam isn't just about praying and fasting and charity. Islam is an attitude that must be infused in the mundane day-to-day dealings with life. Do parents treat each other with respect? How do they react to the ups and downs of life? Children are constantly learning from their parents, even when the parents don't think they have anything to teach."