the kitchen and me have never been friends. its a Singaporean thing of this generation. back in Tareem, Singaporean girls were often the organised ones.. the ones with ziplock.. the ones who could clean up an entire moulding luggage basement storage and then treat ourselves with our self brought pharmacy to ease the sinus post the clean-up. KITCHEN though, nah.. never us. well maybe just the cleaning part. paham sangat kanaannn..
it was during the Western Summer Dowra in 2014, i learnt that Allah will not necessarily bestow you skills you want but when you made intentions on khidmah.. of being in service towards others, you will suddenly i.e. know how to make cookies to soften the blow of your peers who being in a foreign land, has made them crumble physically and emotionally. you will be amazed then how mere home made cookies makes one feel sincere gratitude towards Allah.
the last i baked was due to school curriculum yet suddenly the 2 minute memory of seeing a Brit schoolmate making apple crumble coupled with another minute flashback of a home economics lesson almost 2 decades ago on rubbing-in-method brought smiles to weary Dowra students. nobody believed me.. heck i didn't believe me. Dada with her Indomie murtabak and rice pudding.. and heiiiii... banat Sangaphura can cook leh.
i was on the kitchen floor with an Aussie convert one time.. a conversation so heartbreaking it stumped me. i had nothing to ease her pain.. what did i have though? a story of realisation that Allah has your back no matter what. i then realised why i got so sick back during school term. i understood her pain. i then shared truthfully my kitchen whip-ups were only practiced during the course of being here.. in the Dowra house. my sharing on intentions and that Allah gives the most wonderous of skills to equip us in this journey when we work on our intentions.. was then sealed with a hug.
it was my happiest of honour just being the domestic help in the Dowra house. i didn't know how.. i doubted i could.. because i was always physically the weak and sick one in DaruzZahra. i was just honestly happy i finally could be a normal banat DZ who could be of khidmah towards others.. like the rest of banat DZ in school. i just relied on what i learnt.. that hadith on intentions and depending on Allah. cliche? the cringe-iest i'd say but also the the most woke i'd ever been.
i told her.. i have no skills but Allah made me look so cool letting you girls think i got all these figured out. it is the rizq of these special people (her!) that i had the best of health and ability to be a khadimah to them.. even suddenly knowing how to make apple crumble and cookies.
i never got back to the kitchen after that time.. especially being back in Singapore, working and all. marriage then came and i thought, how hard can it be? IT IS OK. for our first home cooked meal, i did mushy rice, grilled salmon that was still ice cold raw on the inside and a sad excuse for stir-fry vegetables.
and yes too i made his favourite red-collared white-polo shirt, blue. BLUE.
my husband tried to make a joke to pacify me.. on how he ever watched a classic comedy that depicts the life of a newly wed and said the exact same thing happened and that "its normal baby". i still felt like crap though.
i felt lost. i then pulled myself back.. started spending time with me and with Allah.. i took my time in my solah even if i had 5 minutes.. to be present in that 5 minutes.. like back in Tareem. only in Tareem it was a whole lot easier this khusyu' thingy. i just no longer want to be overwhelmed and i stopped seeing myself as a victim.. as someone going through the day balled up in complains of being tired. i imagined "overwhelm" as a prism block that i could see and contain in front of my face. doesn't seem to be overwhelming when you visualize it as something you can contain.. something you can control and then i started to believe i can get a grip on my life.
i thought about my intentions towards my husband.. towards being married.. that it should be ok for my spouse to see me as someone who is not perfect. i wanted to be ok in being someone who doesn't know how to be a wife yet but is learning and was ok for the moment that i do suck at being a wife. i stopped wanting to prove myself to him and start believing in his assurances that it is ok to make his shirt blue.. ok in not being able to cook well. ok in being human.
as soon as i got that in my head.. i was "bestowed" this blessed 2 months of hospitalisation leave.. my lower abs still pricks like a mother but i now have the rizq of time. of course you need intentions.. but you also need Allah to back you up and give you the rizq of time to practice dem cooking skills. this time though, i recognise this feeling when i'm in the kitchen.. the same feeling i had back in the Dowra house.. that the meals i prepare are with Allah in mind.. in heart.
and thank you youtube...
thank you AbangGordonRamsey...
thank you KakNigellaLawson...
thank you Tasty channel...
and THANK YOU الحمد لله ربّ العالمين
for a husband who has no clue what asam pedas is.
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