On Societal Excrement and Tertiary Educated Toilet Paper

Yieha !! I'm back !

After several months of writer's block, a period of social life stagnation, weeks of longing for home and a heart break, I am back. Yay for you ! Yay for me ! *applause PRN*

For those who have forgotten, I am a medical intern at the present time- 11 weeks of assorted rotations away from becoming a resident medical officer (whatever that means- the thought of needing to go back to med school bugs me more these days than it ever has).

I have survived 11 weeks of the emergency department- full of patients emerging from the cracks on the streets and of life. Work in an Australian ED, you'll understand what I mean- hey you intern! Pick up after these societal excrement and make them fragrant again ! Fix their problems ! I don't care if its a vague pain present for 10 years now- I want it fixed tonight ! I don't care if its a morose old migrant woman not getting any attention from her family members save her crippled old dog, I want you to understand what she's saying, and fix her abandonment tonight ! I want all these patients to be transferred to a non existent ephemeral ward bed within 4 hours of them presenting to this packed emergency department. I don't care if you haven't sat down to gather your thoughts, or had anything down your throat other than airborne microbes from your patients, work ! work ! work ! (ok this is unfair to my bosses- they were very very kind- despite their kindness- it was really stressful. Again, my bosses were really nice and helpful- heheh)

 "I donno, maybe you can teach me deep breathing techniques" said my shaking, sweating, agitated young male patient, who appears like he stuffs boulders under his skin in his free time and probably has no functioning gonads- hours after taking Ice and coccaine; and possibly years after injecting steroids. Hell was in my heart that night. *flushes down M&Ms with lemon pop*

It reminds me of this case of severe epigastric abdominal pain- complete with the pale face, sweating, tummy clenching, rolling around middle aged migrant male who is married to a GP. Enough to make one with experience as abundant (no) as myself rush to his boss- "this guy has an acute abdomen ! ". To which my boss- also my supervisor replied "right....~hold on...you're a doctor now, tell me your differentials"- to which my panicked self  was unable to answer fluently. Which is bad news for yourself- all non english speaking background, all flustered, with hair all over the place and possibly cracked lips from not having had anything to drink all day- the appearance, both of your panicked self and your panicked presentation- not great for your supervisor to remember you by.

My boss then went around- pressed around his tummy (with the patient just saying "ouch" all the time- and then saying it's not painful where he was being palpated- it was an ouch for his general pain) and the patient, all frustrated that he was being poked around and wanting to be seen "soon ! this may be appendicitis..right?" just said yes "it hurts there" when he was palpated in the right iliac fossa (which he didn't mention before- i suspect his wife has been educating him while I was away- curses! ).

My boss then called the surgeon and told him that this patient has appendicitis. Patient sold !

Severe epigastric colicky pain with tenderness on palpation in the right iliac fossa - diagnosis ?

If you answered appendicitis- congratulations ! You are fit to become an emergency physician !

If you answered - "i don't think this is appendicitis- sorry" then you are like me when the surgeon asked me "do you think this is an appendicitis ? Seriously? "

I saw on facebook today an ode by our much beloved modern age Malay Prima Donna- Siti Nurhaliza to another much admired Malaysian character Tok Guru Nik Aziz. A man well worth the praise and adoration of Malaysians- well known for his iron grip on principles and honesty- a gem amongst rocks.

It reminds me of a critique made by a Malaysian historical and cultural pundit- Farish A Noor on the Malaysian society; how we long to cling on to our ancestral practices of feudalism and dependence on demigods and kings and heroes to make life better for ourselves. A hero bringing salvation and answers to our plight. A hero to carry the burden of our sloth, our ignorance, our apathy, our impulsivities- a hero to be perfect; who will carry us across our oceans- as Moses did for the Israelites.

We make up our people- our rotten society is a reflection of our individual traits. Sure, that's a blanket claim- but isn't it true? Our societal negativities are all our apathy, recklessness, narcissism, pride - jumbled into one big mess. Fixing it must be by the hero of our collective narrative- our own selves.  

Dig out our principles- hold on to them, spread it to others. Practice it in life- God knows our society craves for some diamond age old principles.

I guess it's no wonder that it felt good when I told the surgeon what I thought (or didn't think) the problem was - how I wanted to say to my boss

I'd love to help myself and the ED out- and get this patient seen by the surgeon with a good and firm diagnosis within 3 hours of his presentation to ED- ridiculous the diagnosis may be.

But please let me keep for myself some integrity.

Yours sincerely
Azfar

p.s.: So how is my story related to all these ED presentations, my steroid laden patient, my boss, Siti's song and Nik Aziz ?

p.p.s: I wanted to say that, but of course I didn't say it- I'm not your hero.

Not Bullet Proof After All

Its ironic
The time taken to decide a matter of 2 years, in just 2 nights
After the second conversation

Its ironic
A call to end began with a question of how to move forward

Its ironic
The diary entry saying everything changes today, I now know what to do

Its ironic
The one secret fear I shared you made true

Its ironic
That day I was reading lots of stories about optimism and great reliance on God; about His decisions and fate as we know it. I  kept myself solid, I knew nothing could faze me. I thought I knew how to feel. I was wrong.

Maybe it is true, I'm not ready.
My services to my family
My own prayers
My own thinking
May own thoughts

Wake up buddy !

You're not bullet proof after all.

A Letter from A Youth Without Heart

To the most honorable Ustaz Hassan al-Banna

Assalamualaikum warahmatullahi wabarakatooh

Have you ever heard of the man with a dead heart? Nay, if the heart mentioned here is one of the organs of the body made of red flesh, which withdraws and ejects blood, he would certainly have it. This heart that enables him to live and continue living. But unfortunately, the heart that contains his passion, strength and livelihood,  is absent.      

He knows good as small it may be, he knows evil even if elusive. And oft he truly feels and comprehends a person from their faces and would respond appropriately as such. But he doesn’t have a heart.

Meeting an old friend after a long time, he would grasp his friend's hand ever so tightly, indeed, he would even hug him. But his heart remains frozen, unmoved. He advises others; "be, you, this and that" and mentions various propositions and evidences for his advice, yet his heart further hardens and remains unswayed.

He smiles to good news. He wrinkles his forehead at bad news. Yet his happiness and sadness are only his reflexes, while his heart stays silenced and unwavering. He states love and hatred towards  people. Yet looking at his heart, it remains quiet without words.

He stands up for prayers, giving it his all, reads the Quran and tries hard to concentrate. He reads the verses of his prayers such that people would say "He is definitely concentrating". Yet, feeling his heart, he finds it deaf and unfocused, even when he understands everything that he reads.

This is the picture of this man's heart. I have not added or omitted anything from it. Would you suggest that his heart is similar to the usual hearts of others?  

I am given a mind, but my heart is defunct. I can feel my mind thinking, working, living and making its presence known. But when I try to feel all that in my heart, I can never find a way to.

Know that, now, in this moment, you have heard about the man without a heart.

He has made a pact with you and you have taken an oath of allegiance from him. Would you stand to have a soldier of yours living without a heart?  Can you help him reignite his heart so that it will again be able to be moved and feel what his tongue says? This is a disease in one of your soldiers, that would sadden you upon knowing it. Thus I shall not name him till I can tell you that he is cured.

Waalaikumussalam

In reply to the youth without heart

Waalaikumussalam warahmatullahi wabarakatooh

I have read your correspondence and am deeply affected by the sincerity of your language, the beauty of your courage, the finesse  of your conscience and the livelihood of your heart.

My brother, you are not of those whose heart is dead as you may think. But you are a youth whose intuition is keen,  spirit pure and soul tender. If not so, you would have definitely denied your feelings. But the magnitude of your  enthusiasm and your goals (purpose of life) have made you perceive the big matters in your life as small and you feel the need for supplementation in regards to them.  There are no problems in that, it is how it is meant to be.  

I feel what you feel, I walk as you walk *(I think it means, "I hear you" and I can see where youre coming from) and I will try to give you some advice. If, these advice benefit you and by obeying them your thirst is quenched and your illness cured, then all praise is to Allah/Alhamdulillah for His Guidance. But if it fails to do so, I would be happy to meet with you so we can together work to recognize this disease of yours and find a cure to it.

 To make companionship with the khushu'/solemn/focused, who are always in deep thought, to mingle with those who always contemplate in solitude, to be close to those  that are righteous/ God conscious and pious, whose from faces rays shine and from hearts you will gain more makrifah/knowledge of God/intuition about God- and these are few- is a good remedy. Make effort to be friends with these people,  to always be in their company, make them a point of return and connect your soul to theirs, connect your spirit to their spirit and spend most of your free time with them. Be wary of those who are pretentious. Find people who lift your spirit, whose actions lead you to do good deeds and upon seeing them you will remember Allah. Befriending these people would be a potent cure, because the nature of man is that they constantly steal, and so a heart is affected by another heart, and a soul  takes example from another soul. Hence, try to find these good souls for your companionship.

My brother,

Contemplating, dzikr (glorifying God) during blessed moments, supplicating while observing the beauty and magnificence of nature, uncovering the secrets of the charm and grandeur of the universe, to scrutinize with the heart and dzikr/glorifying God verbally about these astonishing signs of majesty and this august brilliance, are one of the things that gives life to the heart and shines it with faith and confidence. Allah swt decreed;

Indeed, in the creation of the heavens and the earth and the alternation of the night and the day are signs for those of understanding. (Ali- Imran: 190)

My brother,

Subsequently, thinking about society, witnessing misery, happiness, plight and peace, visiting the ill, comforting/cheering up those whom misfortune had befallen and knowing that the sources of misery takes the forms of anarchy, disbelief/denial of the truth,  cruelty, disobedience, self centeredness/narcissism, egoism, being beguiled with the trivial; all these are the strings acting on the heart that will reunite its shattered pieces and resurrect it from its demise.

Hence, strive so that your presence brings cheer to those who are sad and affected by misfortune. Nothing is more potent for your heart other than doing good for those in need, helping those who are victimized, or sharing feelings with those in plight or in sadness.

My brother,

The heart is in God's Hands. He flips it by His will. For that, be zealous in your prayers so that He gives life to your heart, expands your chest with faith and showers you with confidence as rewards and bounties from Him. Say your prayers in propitious moments and during suhoor as prayes during suhoor is like an unstoppable arrow flying towards the Arasy.

I do not doubt your sincerity in achieving your purpose and the honesty of your confession. Allah swt decreed

"Indeed, Allah only accepts from the righteous [who fear Him]." (Al-Maidah: 27)

Your brother,

Hassan Al Banna

Dear readers, I have promised you this a long time ago. But things came and occupied my head, this got thrown to the back of the pile. 

For those who are wondering what this is about, you may refer to the blog post:

http://azfarnorzaihan.blogspot.com.au/2012/01/this-is-contest-yep-you-read-it-right.html

Well...truth be told, no one actually responded to the contest ! Surprise !!! Not really...~ I'm not entirely sure why, possibly because no one would bother that much about this....~ 

Oh well ! by the time I posted the competition up, I actually have come up with the translation myself. Later, I asked a friend to look at it and give me feedback, but he seemed to have looked at it using his bum...and sat on it for...forever.

So here it is !!!! For your reading pleasure. Please send me corrections/ comments as you feel appropriate.

On The Second Cannula That Nearly Made Me Cry

It must have been three or four months since my last entry on this blog. For those who have been anticipating my writing for the duration, I apologize for two things; firstly for the silence, the presence of which has always scared me for I've always feared the unknown. Secondly for the upcoming silences that I predict will happen over this next year as I ease myself into this new and exciting part of my life.

Given the chance, spirit, time, and a swanky new keyboard, I would love nothing more than to type my experiences away for a shameless expose' of my life over the past few months. The current circumstances though, dictate otherwise. Most nights I get too tired to open my eyes after the clock strikes ten and my fingers crave nothing more than just a handful of blanket while my mind whirled into sweet respite, trying to forget the expectations of tomorrow and the mistakes of today.

I am not by any means trying to relay spite or hatred towards my occupation, in fact, I love it ! Yes, I get to do nothing more than secretary work day in and day out, answering to superiors about things I cannot and could never control, things I don’t fully understand about; but I find the successful difficult cannulas, the prescribing of aperients to constipated patients to good effect, explaining situations to people about themselves and families in ways that make them feel calmer and safer, and supporting fellow interns on days when things get just too much; absolutely joyful.

And during these thirty days that I have started working; there have been days when things go smoothly, expectedly, and unexpectedly  so. And these days make me feel grateful. On the other end though, there have been days when shit happens, expectedly and unexpectedly, and so much so; I felt that I was just barely keeping my head above the water.

This short period of time has also shown me so much in practicality about the ethical issues that were discussed in Uni.

Don’t get emotionally involved with patients. That is what they have always taught us. And this self has always been reluctant to follow this order, as wise it may be, as easy or logical it is, as he sees the unforgivable  flaw of being objective when dealing with human beings.

However I got a smack in my guts and a cut in my heart only the other day for my stance; when a patient of ours developed a surgical wound infection after waiting so long for the operation, after countless stabs and tests. I felt I was responsible for her, and as I tried to put a cannula in for the intravenous antibiotics; and failed the first time, and as I saw her expressionless face, cursed by this thing called Parkinson's disease, wince in pain, and those eyes shed tears for all the pain she has been through, being so old and fragile; I just nearly lost it. With a face full of regret, absolutely inappropriate for a doctor, I told her I needed to put another cannula in. And she replied with  a reluctant "fair enough..if it needs to be done..."

The second cannula went in quite easily (it was unusable the day after though) and I nearly laughed at myself for being so emotional about a cannula. Admittedly, it was a tough day that day, I was on the edge, anything could have pushed me over.

This kind of just reminded me of a bad habit that I have. It is the wanting and the feeling that I need to cater to other peoples' problems and emotional burdens. That I have this divinely appointed task of having to keep people happy, and if they don’t feel so, it is my fault. This must be a weird complex. And I am sure many people experience the same thing as I do; and to myself first and these people second, I give this advice.

It is not your responsibility to carry other people's emotional burdens.

You can try to do your best and treat others well, but know that you can try only so hard; in the end, those people are responsible for their emotional burdens. They are responsible for themselves. You can try to solve their problems, but you must not take responsibility of having to carry their emotional burdens.

For each their own tribulations; God tries those whom He  loves.

Aaand...On a happier note, I am buying myself things after things as a treat for my hardworking days at the hospital. Nizam did remind me to rewards myself, haha…because otherwise I won't be able to keep it up. Well, not that I mind spending my hard earned money on stuff for myself…seriously…not at all, I am going to buy a new tablet computer and a desktop.. but..give me a choice, the hospital is, at this point in time; still the place I want to work at.

I have no regrets. =)

Surgical intern (where is Isobel (reference to Grays Anatomy)???),
Azfar

On Living and Leaving a Trace

“The most beloved of people to Allaah is the one who is most helpful” 

(The Prophet Muhammad (pbuh))

It’s that time of the year again, people flock into each others houses, causing so much ruckus; the neighbours upon seeing that there are more than 60 people in that house for 6 can only try to close their eyes and go to sleep, cursing under their breaths, minty after that 2 minute brush before bed.

Haha ok that doesn't happen everywhere, only tonight when I went to an open house by the boys in Cameron St. People were playing table tennis outside and having loud conversations inside. If I were to be their neighbour I would be a bit pissed off. But hey! Its Eid!! Cut us some slack will ya?

Gents of Malay origin. We wear pyjamas with skirts because its Eid and we're so badass !

Yes ladies and gents, yesterday was Eid. A celebration marking the end of Ramadhan, giving thanks and exalting Allah for His Mercy upon us puny human beings as due to His Mercy, we have once again went through (hopefully) rigorous cleansing of our souls, minds and body. 30 days of constant meditation, optimism, anger management, gluttony control and remembering the ubiquitous blessings of Allah unto us.

Matching Baju Melayu. Bromance at its finest.

This year's celebration sees me in a bit of a different situation than years before. Namely, many of the friends I have celebrated Eids with these four years prior weren't there. Literally! Its either they've went back to Malaysia, or a wife, a wife and a kid, gone off to some other state or having a cursed presentation. Yesterday, in the mass of people, I actually felt isolated. And as a lady told me earlier this week "isolation amongst masses is the worst sort of isolation".  For this reason, I guess I would appear a bit smug anytime yesterday, as evident as  the constant checking of my mood by a good friend yesterday to which I answered "yeah…! I'm alright, why wouldn't I be?". I'm the worst mood concealer in the whole world!!!

Not that I am deprived of any friends to enjoy the festivities with, mind you, there were still many friends who were there.  I'm just picky that way. I know I'm really obnoxious.

This is Syafiq. He constantly asks me if I'm ok. I love him.

Owh well, this kinda reminds me of the time I have left here in Newcastle. I don’t know if I would be able to stay here after the end of this year. As heavy as my heart would be to leave this place I have now called home, my brain feels tired to trying to work ways of staying without an offer for a medical internship.

Which brings me to a point, I wonder if my being here for the five years have had any effect on the people around me. Have my presence brought anything positive to anyone at all ? To what degree ? Did I do something that would be made example of, or inspired someone to be better ? Did I make people smile ? Did I make people feel better about themselves ? Have I served to unite or have the things I have done divided ? It’s a question I ask myself whenever I feel like I am leaving somewhere.

Note that I still have 2 rotations to go through before I end med school. So this might be melodramatic, but I cant help to think that I just want an assurance that before I leave, I have done something someone thought really meaningful. This is not trickery to get people to comment on my comment-less blog, haha ! No….seriously…no. It's just a question I constantly ask myself, even before I go to bed at night. If death takes me under his wings before sunrise tomorrow, would I leave knowing that I have done good?

This is Br Kamal. He is so cool.

Owh ~ what is this kind of talk? So serious !!! Lets talk about the kinds of food that I have been shoving down my stomach since yesterday instead!

Ok to those people who feel the need to tell people about whatever food they have had for Eid this year, seriously guys….has there been any year since our births that we have had food any different to what we have ever had for Eid ?

But no I don’t object to talking about food. I just find this passive aggressive part of me really interesting to think about by myself whenever I have made a bitchy statement to someone. Haha !

Back to the topic, I think its something I need to tell people, and probably something that we need to stress more to people who newly arrive into a situation. That we need to make our presences count. To be of use to people around us, to be beneficial, to help to lift the burden off of our friends' shoulders, to be there in moments of despair and moments of happiness. Our presence don’t have to be noticeable, but they need to count. So that one day when your kids asked you "Daddy daddy…when you were in Uni, what did you do?" , instead of saying "Well mate, I studied ! And went to the gym! And then I slept and ate cheap bread because I was not so rich"; you can smile and reminisce on the cherished memories of you making differences in peoples' lives. And you can say "Well sweetie, I used to have lots of good friends, we grew together and taught each other stuff. We wanted to make changes to the world! We helped each other out when we were in trouble, we were more than friends, we were like blood brothers and sisters. And we wanted to make changes to ourselves, so we can make changes to the world so we can have a better place for you to live in "

Me shoving food down my throat. Hanif pointing to the ceiling. 

...the melodramatic kookaburra again flies above our heads... As if you are going to say stuff like that to your children! Well maybe not those exact words, but something similar I hope…Bahahaha !

Ok that’s enough ! I just want to make this point clear to everyone here. I understand that not everyone are suited and pre-programmed to be able to make loud, obvious and apparent contributions to the society they live in, but I believe the single person as the social unit have the power to influence their surroundings enough to make good more prevalent than evil.

I humbly now conclude my blog entry.

Eid during my first year in Newcastle

“The most beloved deed to Allah is making a Muslim happy” 

(Muhammad ibn Abdullah (pbuh))

Hoping to one day video record his room mate sleep talking,

Azfar

 p.s.: photographs taken from tagged photographs on Facebook. Will ask permission from owners tomorrow.

  

It's Tough Being a Girl

Have a listen to this dear ladies. Empowerment is on your way.

In the shade of Ramadhan

Greetings dearest readers, esteemed members of the virtual public who has clicked on the link of my blog for whatever reason.

I have, for many months lost a sense of wanting to write anything at all...~ I must blame this on the 9-5 hours of my clinical placement nowadays, being, to the opinion of my humble self and some of my colleagues and resident doctors in the ward, too dedicated doing bona fide tasks for my team.

Owh well....!! I have this perception (this may well count as a delusion) that if I give it all, maybe....just maybe....I'll be given the chance to start my medical career here. Don't know if that will work, hopeful though, am I.

In case no one noticed, the holy month of Ramadhan has again come, and with it the open doors of Paradise and abundance of forgiveness and rewards for the believing muslim. For this and to do a bit of updating and shoo-ing the spiders (not that I have problems with spiders, I love them) from my website, I have just decided to share this piece of video.

Happy Ramadhan people ! Fast physically and spiritually. Do good not only for yourself, but for others as well. Share more, laugh more, cry more, smile more, say more good things and love a whole lot more.

Love
Azfar

Like paper planes. 

You make it just to watch it fly as far away as it can from you. 

But at least you know that once,

you had something good in your hands.

And you now know,

and hope

that you can make another one, at least just as good 

for you to keep. 

 

 A story short, a love temporary, a memory everlasting.

No airbrushing. No autotune. No unnecessary display of the human flesh. 

Just simple and beautiful music.

p.s: and Zaid mate, this guy reminds me a bit of you. With the "i'm high on something I donno" look when he is singing.

On the Crying Child and the Screaming Maid. An Inconvenient Truth

 I'm just a soul whose intentions are good
O Lord please don't let me be misunderstood
Understood....
Understood....
(Oh Marcello, Regina Spektor)

There's this story about our neighbours, whom even after several years of moving into the house adjacent have never got into the neighbourhood mood with us, or anyone from our house. No exchanges of food during Ramadhan, no talking over the small brick wall that separates our houses, not even a mere greeting upon crossing eyes on the (oh ever so inconvenient) event of us being in front of our houses at the same time.

Upon asking mom about this unusual phenomenon (as I've been away in Australia since they first moved in), she told me about the story of the day everything started. It had to do with my dad.

Once upon a time., the neighbours had a maid at home caring for their children. Maids in Malaysia are basically domestic helpers usually from neighbouring South East Asian countries, who are often entrusted (too much trust I reckon) with the task of keeping the house clean and managing the house chores and also to care for the children. Households with maids are usually those where both parents work the usual office hours.

Being neighbours in the usual terrace house in Malaysia, you cant help but to hear loud noises coming from the adjacent unit, as the houses are just separated by probably some 3 layers of bricks. And on many occasions, my parents used to hear lots of crying and screaming from the house during day time. Specifically , the kids were doing the crying and the maid was doing the screaming.

And upon hearing these events repetitively, my father, being true to his origin of being a Malay, decided that one day we'll break the news to the parents (whom we didn't think knew what was happening while they were away at work) about our suspicion that something dodgy might be happening with the maid and the kids, ever so subtly.

And so one day, upon meeting them outside of the house, dad said, looking at one of the child "oh yang ni ke yg selalu nangis tu?" (which translates to: "oh is this the one that cries all the time?").  All in hopes that the father may pick up on the subtle hint and start thinking about asking further about the issue.

Well that didn’t work.

If anything happened at all, they just stopped interacting with the people from our house. It seemed that they did not appreciate my dad ringing a bell about the probable problem that they were possibly aware of.

However, the maid one day was changed with another maid for some reason I do not know, and do not wish to know, and the crying stopped.

And I heard from mom that she went over to the house next door the other day to visit them and their new baby. Oh joy.

What Im intending to share with you readers today has something to do with that story. Quite recently I was faced with the dilemma of having to tell people about something unpleasant. An inconvenient truth if you will.  Something not fun for the ears to hear, something uncomfortable for the eyes to see, and in this case specifically, something not tasty to the tongue.

This is what I sent two of my friends through the Facebook messaging system (This message had mixed Malay English words in them. Ill translate to English the whole thing):

Salam (friend name)

Just to enlighten (friend name) . incase (friend name) didn’t know. I feel a bit responsible to share with people about this. and I feel a bit hypocritical that we went to sydney for this but didn’t say anything to the people close to us about it.

That day when we went to the Global March to Jerusalem in sydney, the march and the protest was against Max Brenner. Reason being, Max Brenner is a company 100% owned by Israel and it specifically provides benefit and support to branches/teams in the Israeli army.

If you are interested in reading about Max Brenner, you can look up this site:
http://gm2j.com/main/blog/2012/03/30/activists-take-part-in-global-march-to-al-quds-in-australia/

There are companies that are not showing their support to Israel as obviously but the Max Brenner company supports the occupation clearly and proudly.

Just to let you know. (Yes their chocolate is amazing. Ive been there twice before i got to know of this fact) Because in the end the judgment call is wholly individual, based on what we believe and what we think is the right thing to do.

I personally believe that this is a personal choice and people shouldnt have a say on what other people eat or drink or how they spend their money, but just in case you didnt know. I hope though that you knowing this will make a difference.

and even if you decide to not go with this boycott, id appreciate that you dont unknowingly do promotions for them through facebook.

Salam 

Harsh….was it...? Definitely…! Or...

Well some of you may think its harsh, some may not. This depends on how much you know me. And the problem with reading text is that you miss on the intonation and melody of the sentences, you may not get the full picture of what you are reading. And how you interpret what you read unfortunately depends on your emotions at the time. And admittedly, reading something like this, coming out of no where, you would feel offended and hurt. Which is what happened to one of the person I sent this message to. And I'm sorry, dear friend.

Am I to write in length about using words correctly and grammatical and sentence structuring strategies that may be of value when you are trying to write a note to someone about an inconvenient truth? No.

I today would rather write about the struggle that I believe everyone face in this world. You, me, the people next door, the doctors, the politicians, the socialists, the police...Batman…(ok that’s

unnecessary). It’s the struggle of telling people about an inconvenient truth.  

Ignorance is bliss. Something you don’t know wont hurt you. Unfortunately though, something you don’t know may hurt other people. In this instance, us unknowingly spending lots at Max Brenner is directly contributing to the pain and suffering of many Palestinians. But oh well we don’t know them. Their pain and suffering is theirs. Why should I stop doing what I like for people I don’t know and whom I will probably never meet? And as I mentioned in my message to my friends, the decision on how to spend their dollars is their prerogative, no one should have a say in it.

I was merely suggesting that they look up the website in case they didn’t know what was happening, and the latter part, I must admit, sounded unnecessarily  cynical (but that wasn’t my intention at all, the words I used sounded alright to me at the time, honestly. But I have a heart of stone. So pardon me for being direct in my communications most of the time).  

It’s a hard thing really. I mean if you know something is wrong, do you then keep it to yourself; in an effort to make everything appear fun and fluffy and fine. Or do you speak out against it, speak for the truth; at the risk of sparking a misunderstanding  and igniting a relationship problem? It’s like a curse that plagues the people who knows things. Because knowing something and believing in it makes a person want to talk to others about it, its only human.

I guess to simply think about it, many people would have the opinion of consulting yourself about your priorities. Would you rather have something and risk the other? What are your priorities? Would you rather be scorned upon for telling an inconvenient truth? Or would you rather smile and pretend everything is ok? What are your priorities? What are the values that you hold on to?

Does this mean that everyone who are on a mission to tell people about inconvenient truths will be hated? 

Well I don’t think that is necessary. It all comes down to how well are we able to assert ourselves and our opinions to other people. How able are we in singing out sad lyrics in a happy melody? How able are we in tuning our music to our audience. 

An art too hard to master at this young age of mine.

Yours sincerely

Azfar

Its not who I am underneath, but what I do that defines me

(The Batman, Batman Begins)

On Words from a Fashion Faux Pas

Satisfaction lies in the effort, not in the attainment, full effort is full victory.

Mahatma Gandhi

We had this English teacher back at prep college. She was one of those people who spoke English with a much thicker accent than anyone you've ever seen on tv, it makes you try hard to not say to yourself that she's overdoing the slang. Notoriously famous for grammatical strictness, lack of aiming capabilities and fashion faux-pas-ing, she was a constant source of ridicule and mean laughter amongst us students, who seemed at the time to always be on a vigilant search for faults and mistakes performed by this woman.

Our English as a class (save a person or two, and I'm not one of them) never did meet her standards. As were our knowledge of Australian addresses and our selection of names to address letters to for in-class formal letter writing exercises.

So one day in class, after an essay exercise she told us to complete several days ago, she called us one by one to the teachers desk to discuss our essays with her. And one by one, we went to the desk, and one by one went back to our seats, resuming our quests to reach Australia for tertiary education or simply to continue sleeping as our classes often went to late afternoons during those days.

My turn soon came and walking to her desk, I already saw the red streaks before I sat down on the chair. On the corners, over the messy handwriting, in between words, everywhere. Looks like my essay has been bloody slaughtered again. If it had a voice its probably shouting out to be euthanized as quickly as possible. And I sat on the chair, my eyes fixed on the paper.

And we went through the essay, bit by bit, her voice always going somewhere into my subconscious, never really reaching my thought centers. And towards the end of the discussion, she said " because you try hard…".

What?  What did she just say? I couldn’t remember what she was saying right before those words, but a bit later that day, after a lot of thinking,  I remembered what she said. She said "you deserve better…because you try hard…" (and she said something about how I needed to improve on several things so I can get better marks and not stay on the same plateau of low marks forever)

Right after she said those words, I felt as if I was caught off guard. And for the first time in a very long period, I looked at her face and into her eyes. I felt really touched. I actually felt like crying in front of her. And so I looked down instead, nodding my head vigorously at every pause of her sentences.

Maybe you, dear respected reader are confused as to why I reacted in such a way at that part of the statement she made. Maybe you, dear reader think that this teacher must have never uttered a single word of praise and hope to her students that upon hearing that I deserved better, I felt so flattered and proud my vanity felt so happy it was making me cry.

But no. She actually said to me something I really craved to hear at that time. By those words, it felt that she saw me. She didn’t see my marks, or my smile, or my laughter.

She saw that I was trying. And indeed, during that time I was really trying.  Then, and years prior. Day and night for a shot at learning medicine in some faraway land.

Sad, but no one before her has ever explicitly expressed that to me. No one has commended my efforts before her. No one ever. Everyone just wanted results; first place, second place, grades, trophies, medals, certificates, money.

It shows our pre-occupation with results, and our lack of appreciation for effort and struggle. Because that’s what we like, we feel like if something doesn't come off something, its not worth much. Because in the end nothing good happened.

But I beg everyone reading this post up till here to open our eyes and see the struggle and efforts of others. And appreciate them. And acknowledge their hard work. Because in a world where everything is fast and competitive, we often forget this. We often say 'good job'  and forget to pat people on their backs for their 'good effort'.  We tell people to 'study hard!!' and we don’t say to them 'take a break, you've studied hard'.

We forget that there is some wisdom in the road trip saying "what matters is the journey, not the destination".

With this I am making a public statement that I shall try to wake up early tomorrow for orthopaedics ward rounds !

Sincerely yours

Azfar

We Choose To Hurt?

I’ve been losing my mind
I pretend that it’s fine
Trying to keep it together
While I crumble inside
You got a friend at
The end of the line

(Love How It Hurts, Scouting for Girls)

 A nice song for the broken hopefuls

To quickly update my current situation:

I've just finished my 3 week Emergency Dept rotation, which is the best rotation I've had so far !!!!! At one point I was so hooked up on cannulating patients I felt unhappy if I didn't get to cannulate a patient for one day. 

The doctors were enormously helpful and easy going! Thanks Katie, Amy and Anas for the huge support and help with everything! 

I did my first: 

1. arterial blood gas, 

2. large bore cannulas (largest was 16 gauge), 

3. first encounter of a frontal lobe tumour and pretending to not know of the diagnosis when I went to get bloods from the patient. And tried to hold back a sorry look for the patient's wife and daughter. 

4. hear a renal bruit

5. see a patient with 6 pack abs

6. see a VQ scan done

7. helped in diagnosing a Ramsay-Hunt syndrome

It was good. And Anaesthetics was good too ! I learned how to intubate people from an Australia's Got Talent contender ! And got 2 tubes in ! Hooray !!!

I'm having a huge writers block at the moment, so I apologize to all my readers as I'm unable to write up anything brilliant for anyone to read.

And anyhows, the contest went great! I'll post the winners translation soon =)

Kind regards

Azfar 

Be optimistic. With God, it wouldn't hurt.

And We have placed within the heaven great stars and have beautified it for the observers (AlQuran, 15:16) 

Credits

To be here one day and witness this...Subhanallah.

On Eyes That Stir Up Torrents

And your Lord has decreed that you not worship except Him, and to parents, good treatment. Whether one or both of them reach old age [while] with you, say not to them [so much as], "uff," and do not repel them but speak to them a noble word.And lower to them the wing of humility out of mercy and say, "My Lord, have mercy upon them as they brought me up [when I was] small."

(Quran, 17:23-24)

Peace be upon y'all reading this unworthy blog !

How are you in health and happiness? I just wanted to write something quick as I am missing the nice feeling of typing intuitively at length without thinking of the consequences of doing so.

Distinguished members of my online audience, today I'd like to remind us all.

That you never know how deeply you are able to touch another person's heart. 

An apology, a handshake, a laugh, a smack on the back, a moment of eye contact, a brief touch, a word, a facial expression, everything you do, albeit how small it is to your perception, can produce huge torrents of emotion inside another. Positive or negative those emotions may be is up to the distinctive scenario, but if you are one of the participants in it, do not underestimate the power you have over the other person, and never underestimate the power of the other over you.

I am a melancholic soul, always hoping to get back in time to prevent these 'slips' from happening. And although my mature self has often laughed at this hopeful intention, for it now believes that everything that happened is better than what could have happened, there are just some things that it wishes it would never have done.

For those who have faith in me, I thank you. I probably don't deserve it, but you have no idea how much that faith means to me.

Yours truly
Azfar

On My Latest Man Crush

“Indeed, in this [Quran] is notification for a worshipping people. And We have not sent you, [O Muhammad], except as a mercy to the worlds.” [Quran: 21:106-107]




Ahhhhh where should I start? So much to relay, but too many uninterested ears, busy eyes and occupied hearts.


 Yesterday I saw a webcast, thanks to a link I found through a friend's blog (you, yes you…! thanks !!). After reading the small entry that came with it, I decided that it would be interesting to take part in the global event. And after telling my friends about it, some of whom encouraged me to buy tickets, I bought several tickets for the event. Little did I know though, the webcast which I initially thought would correlate well in timing with another event happening on that day was actually happening at a later time in that day, smack middle in time of the other event.


Knowing this, I knew that many of the friends whom initially thought that they could sit and watch with me would not be able to do so (with heavy hearts, I can assure you) and as planned earlier, I went to watch the event on a large TV at 'the crescent' with its so very cool inhabitants (yes...you guys!!). Why tell us the details of the pre-event, you ask? Spare us these cumbersome details of your pitiful life please.  


Well, I have a complex. I over think many things, in ways bordering to those with OCD would, I have to admit (a tutor once told me that all doctors statistically have some obsessive compulsive in them, that's what makes them able to do the studying and the job). I was thinking about this webcast, the excitement that came leading to it, imagining a huge bunch of people enjoying and spending time together in front of a screen to a good cause, and the eventual turn out. As capricious as the weather these days it seems, things change.


I'm no stranger to these incidences. Many things I've done before have just met up with, quite frankly, nothing. I remember a time when I travelled a long way in the dead night for something, and right in the middle, was told that there's no way I could make it in time for that thing. And so with a heavy heart I chucked a u-ie (read: youwie/ U turn), already three quarters of the way. That night I questioned lots of stuff, and so beat up I was emotionally, I decided to just sulk the night away. I know God doesn't do things without purpose, I know that for sure. Its just me, why does it seem, sometimes, that the things I do, with good intentions I must humbly admit, turn out to be such a waste?


Ok lets not dwell on that. Lets read about the webcast !!


The webcast was lots of fun as it was a very touching emotional journey. We were chatting with the malaysians online and making troll comments here and there. Haha. 


Its theme was: Prophet Muhammad, lessons from his marriage life. And so the content brought about by the speakers, in subsequent four to five minute videos, were of the relations that the prophet had with people around him, mainly focusing on his wives. It portrayed this man of beautiful character, calm demeanor, wise words and reactions, attentiveness and sensitivity, love and affection, trust and loyalty, humility and machoness, empathy and even altruism. And all over again, as many times as I've heard stories about him, I had a man crush. Owh how beautiful this man was!! Listening to the stories yesterday nearly brought tears to my eyes * teary* !! He is indeed a mercy to mankind =)))))  


And thus, I would encourage all of you, muslim or non muslim (apparently there were lots of non muslim who joined as well) to have a look at the website and watch the webcast, with open hearts. And together learn from the stories of this man. You will not be disappointed. I assure you.


The website is: celebratemercy.com


Have a look, have a click here and there and enjoy !!


Holidays are here
Azfar


p.s.: One month post article translating contest, entries and expressions of interest = zero/ naught/ nil/ teloq ayam. I might have to get myself a new novel then!! :D

Holding a Rose

Holding a rose

 Your hand bleeds from the thorns piercing your skin, 

your brain whirrs from the sickening spin, 

yet you held on,

for the life of you,

you held on

 Is it the visual presentation?

the petals dancing on a beat?

or the olfactory stimulation?

the scent so sweet?

Maybe it is the heart that confuses you,

for it beats quick, 

in a way no different to

how pleasure would make it tick 

-THE END-

I wonder about the curse placed in many hearts. The curse of holding on. The curse of persistence. The curse of reluctant hope.

It makes me ask: what does it take to let go? To say that you have chosen different paths and you are happy with them. To sincerely say that its okay that things turn out this way, that it is for the best. That we shall happily move on. 

Its not easy, I know. 

The reason I even tried this poem is that I saw something yesterday (ok.....now now... thats enough snorting and chuckling Zaid and Kiambang...and other poets out there..I had no other idea than the word 'tick'. Even after looking at the rhyming dictionary!!! This is my first time!!!! ).

It was a photograph. I know the story behind the photograph and I know the story leading to it, and the story after it. 

The photograph depicts the story quite well. Of two people who got caught up in a relationship that would, in the end prove to be...for the lack of better terms to describe it, hopeless. And thus its no surprise that it is as bad now as it will ever be.The thing is, if it was me who were in that relationship, the photograph would be the last thing I would look at. 

Not in this case though. This person chose to look at it everyday. Not that I would want to, mind you, but I can only imagine the pain this person feels.

One thing I don't have to imagine though, and I know this for a fact. Matter of the heart are never easy.

Dear Lord, You who hold our hearts in Your Hands, guide our hearts to find acceptance, peace and happiness. Amin~   

One week from holidays

Azfar

This is a CONTEST!!! Yep you read it right! A CONTEST!!

Translate this article into the English language and win an AUD30 book voucher!! Hooray !!!   

Dear readers


I think I mentioned in my brief one-liner post below that I am currently working on translating a well known piece by a famous muslim scholar. The piece is basically a letter of advices that Imam Hassan Al Banna wrote in reply to a letter from a youth who was troubled with how he saw his heart. Dead. Defunct.Lifeless. 

The reason that I am attempting to translate this article into the English language is because I thought that its a good piece to share with everyone and it would be a very good language exercise. And I have failed after browsing through 4 Google result pages, to find this article in English. As 9-gaggers would say it 'if its not there in the first 4 pages of google, it probably doesn't exist'

Halfway through the entire article, something suddenly crossed my mind during my lazy noon shower today. Instead of translating it myself, maybe I should find more talents across my sea of acquaintances and friends who would do much better jobs than me !

So here is the deal:
1. translate the article 'Surat Rijal kepada Hassan Al Banna' or its equivalent article in any other languages into English. A translation from the Arabic version would probably have the best advantage in terms of subtlety of language and meaning. AND please make sure that your attempts are honest ones, and not actually results from your far superior Googling skills or copying from other sources. Lets work with the system of trust and honesty. Feel free to extend the invitation to any of your friends.
(Many apologies to my readers with no other language than English in hand. Obviously this does not apply to you because the purpose of the contest is for you to be able to understand the article =) ) 
2. Send it to azfar.nor@gmail.com before (considering the traffic this blog gets) 30th March 2012.
3. I'll get some language hot shots to read it and evaluate it
4. The best translation wins an AUD30 book voucher ! and will be contacted through email.If you can find no use for an australian currency book voucher (i.e. you're in Malaysia or the UK or NZ or India or somewhere else), we will work something out.
5. The translation will then be posted here and be read by thousands of people on a daily basis. *cough2*..so much for a system of honesty and trust

Up for the challenge?! Go for it!

Yours truly
Azfar

Friends pick us up when we fall down, if they can't pick us up, they lie down and listen for a while

 Off a post in 9-gag. No photos, I'll let you picture it yourselves.

P.s.: Working on translating a well known piece. Otherwise I'm trolling around playing video games and pushing people when they are trying to aim for a head shot in their video games. I'm starting the semester with a hilariously confusing and laid back elective term. Nothing to do + denial of medical student status = fun !! and hopefully some outside-of-medicine productivity as well...of course... 

Lots of Bee Gees too, admittedly. Its so weird.

Borborygmus

My gut is telling me that its going to be an awesome year this one. Yes, gut. I hear you. And I'm liking the song.

bor·bo·ryg·mus

  [bawr-buh-rig-muhs] 

noun, plural -mi [-mahy] Physiology .

a rumbling or gurgling sound caused by the movement of gas in the intestines.