Lobo's Lessons

Growing up in the UK in the late 70s and 80s, it was almost impossible to get fast food that was halal. Definitely not like what it is today. Back in the day, we lived in many different places when I was growing up, but I consider Bath to be my where I struck my roots. As a kid you don’t really remember many things that were not within your immediate scope of experience. Everything was taken care of by your parents, and that is something I have go to remember again with my own children. Sometimes I expect them to be aware more of what is going on around them, but when I remember my own childhood, all we knew was we did what our parents told us, moved where they moved, went where they went etc. Anyway, I’m rambling. Back to what I was saying, It was literally impossible to get fast food, and all we could do was just imagine how the burgers would taste. Fries or chips was not too much of an issue because we were able to eat Fish and Chips, especially from Evans in the middle ...

When one mentions the R word (research), a lot of people get images of people in lab coats holding test-tubes, or a formal interview at a plush office, sipping tea or coffee made by the secretary of the CEO being interviewed. Well, there is that... Yes... but there is also much, much more. Today's research session can attest to that. Let me explain. Today was a tough day. Deadlines galore. I had a teaching session that I had to prepare for. I had to actual teaching session itself. Then I had a meeting about a book that I was copy-editing (to be published in Bangladesh by the way) which was the followup to the 4 hour meeting that I had yesterday. And then there was a going-away party for a few friends who were leaving the country to do research in more exotic shores. Which was really enjoyable by the way. Good food good company. Good singing. A good time. But it was good to be able to drive home and think about spending the night with the family. I reached ho...

Sir.. That's what my students would call me. A strange title in an English speaking country as it would mean I would be nobility, but in Malaysia, it is a title usually reserved for male English teachers. I recently saw something which put a lump in my throat a few days ago - it was a song from Glee. Yes, I watch Glee, and no, it is not pathetic. Those of you who don't or better yet haven't, I suggest giving it a try and see what happens. Anyway, the song was a remake of an old song sung by Lulu - 'To Sir with Love'. I saw that movie when I was a small kid, and I even though I could understand what the movie was about, I could not fully appreciate it. Add twenty years and a teaching career down the line, and try revisit the movie.. Or just happen to watch the song on Glee... and you remember what teaching is all about. It's not about you. It's about the students. Because in the end, they make you. As I watched the video, a huge lump started...

Image credit here . Dust and sand... Dust and sand... Dust and sand... Thus the gathering ' toos ' (sandstorm) swirls in the wind gathering unbridled momentum, angry and pulsing with life. It was as if the sandstorm had become a living entity, an embodiment of the life-force of the desert sands - harsh, unrelenting, and totally out of man's control... I stared unblinking as the fury of nature unleashed wave upon wave of unnerving howls, each wail seeming like a call from souls lost in the vast expanse of the unforgiving desert... I thanked the Lord above that I was safe indoors, in the sanctuary of the room I shared with two others in the student hostel, our ' sakan '. It was a paradox of states, as if two forces were struggling to collide and merge with one another, one the peace and serenity of the sanctuary found indoors, and the other the pure untamed wilderness of Nature. I stared on, eyes wide with the fear of a man who is confronted with a new element in...

Photo credit here It's hard growing up in a foreign country. I went through that almost my entire childhood. Oh don't get me wrong, I love the UK and I would never trade my childhood there for anything in the world. It's just that it tickles me to reflect on some of the things that my sister and I (and a few of our other Malay friends) would do just so that we wouldn't get singled out. One very funny example just recently cropped up in my head, and I knew I had to write about it immediately. In the UK we would have the option of taking packed lunches from home or eat catered lunches called 'school dinners' or 'din-dins' there, though I don't know exactly why lunch was called dinner... it still leaves me baffled to this very day. Having school dinners was sometimes a challenge for us Muslims because we can only eat Halal of Kosher food, and so it was the usual custom that we bring our own lunches. When the bell rings, you walk out of your classroom, s...

Image credit here It is now that time of year again, where I start to reminisce the Christmases of my childhood. Christmas? you may ask... But I thought he was Muslim? I grew up in a stout Islamic environment where my parents ingrained in me the tenets of the Quran and hadith. But outside my little bubble I also grew up in an environment where Christmas was a magical time of year. It was the time when my friends would brag about the presents they would be getting from their parents, and how they would be playing with them when I came over to their house on Christmas, and so on and so forth. Excitement would radiate from every child, regardless of which race they belonged to... It was still an innocent time for me. A time when when boys were boys and girls were girls, and the top shelf magazines were not to be seen, although the curiosity was starting to build (Note - many people here would not understand this reference, though people who've been overseas are probably grinning just ...

Every journey has a beginning, and an ending... And thus, my wonderful journey that I embarked on as a lecturer to my first Drama in Education cohort is almost coming to an end... I remember seeing them all, one by one, their faces eager to learn, but shying away in the beginning, all reserved in the small cocoons of their own little worlds... And when they opened up, one by one, I saw in them different, beautiful personalities, each unique in their own way... each finding a place in my affections...and eventually each finding a place in my heart. Yesterday night was a special night that marked the ending of this journey with them, on the one hand a sense of overwhelming pride that I had directly played a part in their journeys as teachers, building the very foundation of our nation, and even more so, as human beings, being the very essence of who they were and what they became... To commemorate this night, I sang for them... A tune that they all knew and loved... A tune that we shared...

Birthdays in my family are usually a happy time - not because we'd have an over the top party or anything, but because it would be the time when the whole family would usually be together, just the share pizza and cake (if for no better reason). Yesterday was my sister Huda's birthday (Huda the genius - definitely my father's genes all over), but we celebrated it today. Before the party I had the task of looking for her birthday present... The thing is, it's kind of hard to buy presents for girls - buy them a dress and it's not their colour...buy them a skirt and it doesn't fit...so on and so on...so what did I do? Called up the wife and asked for Huda's shoe size...called up my sister Salihah and asked her Huda's shoe size...and bought the safest pair of shoes that were fashionable and could be worn with most colour combinations (and on sale of course!)...hehehehehe... I was so glad she liked them! However, the party itself was where it hit me the most....

Ahhh, it's that time of the year again, where bloggers delightfully indulge in the activity called 'tagging', and this time round I have been tagged by Fauziah Ismail . And so, to kill multiple birds with one stone (by answering this tag I also answer previous tags made by some blogger friends), here are 25 random facts about me: 1)I used to be a gaming addict during my student years, playing games from dawn to dusk on my computer and console when I had the time. Not so much anymore, though I do enjoy the occasional game. 2) I first met my wife at the bowling alley. We were both teachers, bringing our bowling teams for the district tournament. 3) I used to think that my name was ‘Ambulat’ when I was about 4, but got to know otherwise a year later. This was probably because my parents always called me by my full name, and that was how it sounded to a small child... Kinda aptly describes my shape now though. 4) To date, I have written 5 songs, most of them during my col...

For those who have read my earlier posts, you may be aware that I have written several songs dedicated to different people in my life. Well, this was the first, dedicated to her... Written during the time when she was beyond the sea and far away. (XXXX represents parts of corrupt memory... I really can't remember these parts) Here goes... Look into Your Heart We've been friends for so very long Our friendship's so strong But I don't want to end it today By what I have to say I've been waiting half my life For something to arrive XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXX Chorus: Be careful what you hide Please don't take me for a ride Just look into your heart And you'll see who's inside I remember when you went away I begged you to stay You left me alone in fear And a mountain of tears When you came back again To comfort your old friend Then what I felt right from the start must reach into your heart Chorus Just look into your...

"You're going to do what?" I asked, stunned beyond belief. "Don't act so surprised" She replied, her voice brimming with barely controlled amusement. I knew that she was probably rolling her eyes and smiling her quirky smile on the other end of the line. "Besides" she continued, "It's not going to be that far". "But you'll be in another country..." I protested, still not quite sure about what I was hearing, "And whatever happened to finishing university together?". It seemed to be such a shame, I thought. Here was perhaps the cleverest girl in school, a killer combination of brains and beauty, who could run circles around me in all subjects, except English (even then she came a close second), talking about doing something else besides finishing university. "I already told you my reasons" Her voice finally showing some signs of strain, "I thought you'd be more supportive of this" I was t...

I couldn't believe it! I actually managed to pass my Chemistry Finals!!! All the blood, sweat and tears that went into trying to understand my most hated subject finally paid off... I held the result slip in my hand, not daring to let go... As if letting go would mean that I would let go of the pass that I had obtained. I smiled. We both knew we would finally be where we dreamed of the entire time we were in school... University. That magical place where dreams would be made into reality. That place where we could become all that we wanted to become... To start our journeys into adulthood, into the real world. And so when we got our offer letters, it was with mixed feelings that I said goodbye to her... Part of me was sad because it meant going our separate ways, but part of me was excited to start a new chapter in my life... I guess it didn't make a difference back then, because I knew that in my heart of hearts, we would be together in the end, no matter how long or winding t...

NOTE: Before proceeding, it is of paramount importance that this post is a reflection of memories, not of regrets...especially when one is happily married. In this life, there is precious little time to waste on regrets. There are incidents and lessons we learn, before we move on, taking with us precious memories along the way. *** Within each and every adult there would be bits and pieces of certain memories that they treasure. Memories of times gone by, memories of people they had known, and for many, memories of the ones they would forever remember as 'The Ones That Got Away". I must admit, I do carry a few of these in my mind, though the one that I will always tell with an air of Greek tragedy would be my first. High school. Final year. Exams looming in the horizon. I knew that I needed help with my chemistry, and I needed it quick! In my mind, there was only one person that I could depend on for help - my best (girl) friend (This distinction is very important because I al...

Inspiration... It comes to us in many different ways, in many different shapes... Some of us search high and low to the ends of the Earth looking for it. For some it just comes when we least expect it. And for a few lucky people, it comes and visits quite a few times throughout their lifetime. For me, one of these rare moments came from the most unexpected of places, in the most unexpected of times... Venice, the City of Romance... Its lush waterways and canals enticing every single soul that sets its eyes upon them... A magical wonderland, with the Renaissance lingering in the very air that the city breathes... Venice...the City of Romance... And me nursing a broken heart, which I had left behind somewhere in the Highlands of Scotland... Irony at its finest... It was summer, and summer in England was nowhere like summer in Italy. We were roasting in the sweltering heat, sweat continuously pouring down our foreheads... My cousin and I had arrived in Venice for a couple of hours, and we...

Alamak... begini ke rasanya kena tag nie? Hatiku panas membara kerana telah ditag oleh studentku sendiri... Sampai hatimu Tiqa... tidakkah daku cukup memberikanmu kasih sayang dan perhatian dalam kelas? isk...isk... (There goes my drama skills kicking in...hehehe) Anyway, it looks like I've been tagged... and the topic is... 'The age that I wish to go back to...' I think with me there isn't really an age that I would go back to just to change anything, because to me, all that has happened in the past has shaped me into the person I am today... However... I would like to relive the events that happened to me when I was 22... Yes... That was one heck of a good year... Canterbury, Kent... England... A year of love gained and love lost... A year of the best friends a guy could ask for... Enrique Garcia Ruiz...Maria Isabel Poveda...Cindy Barquero...Katherine Fiallho... Junji... Takako... Ainara Andueza... Miguel... Jayne Ann Kilvington... and a host of others too numerous to...