關於 long love messages for him ，我們在網路上蒐集到這些相關的討論、資訊與評價

Satu hari nanti Allah akan ambil mak kita balik..
Waktu tu kita kena terima..
Dan kita sebagai anak jangan duduk diam je..
Memang sedih.. tapi kena buat sesuatu sebagai penghormatan terakhir utk mak..
Anak-anak perempuan pergi mandikan mayat mak.....
Continue ReadingOne day Allah will take our mother back..
At that time we have to accept..
And we as children don't just sit quietly..
Really sad.. but have to do something as the last respect for mom..
Girls went to bathe mom's body..
Look at mom's face.. look at it for a long time..
This is the last time I want to see..
After this I can only look at the picture..
Touch softly mom's body..
Mom's body softly caress..
Speak in the heart...
′′ This is the person who gave birth to me..
The one who raised me..
My mother educated me until I became a person..
Mom taught me to be a good woman..
Even though sometimes I minimize mom's heart,
But mom never mad at me..
Mom still advise me..
After this I don't have a mother anymore..
Later one day I will be a mother..
I replace my responsibility just like mom...
But at that time mom was gone..
I can't be spoiled with mom anymore..
I have no place to tell stories..
Before this what was the secret I shared with mom..
Mom... I love you mom..
What if after this I miss you mom?
What if I need a mother??"
Take the last chance..
Hair swipe mom... just like mom swipe our hair..
Kissing mom's cheeks.. just like mom kissing our cheeks..
Look at mom satisfied..
This is the last time we get to see mom's face..
There will be no chance after this..
Let's wear mom's new clothes together..
Look at mom..
Is mom beautiful?
Now the boys..
Don't be when mom is ready to wear shroud,
We are still busy outside the house..
Going home..
Looking at mom's body..
Think about it for a long time..
This is the last time we get to see mom..
This is the last time..
At this time we can't kiss mom's hand anymore..
We can only kiss mom's cheeks for a while..
This is the last time we get to kiss..
Mom smells so good..
After this we don't have a chance to kiss mom..
Speak in the heart..
′′ No matter how bad I am, mom never throw me away..
No matter how stubborn I am, mom never let me eat..
To mom, I'm still her child..
Mom used to throw up..
Mom, make my pitches..
Mom support me..
Mom fed me eating..
Mom is mad at me because I'm naughty..
But mom never hates me..
After this I can't kiss mom anymore..
I can't lie on mom's lap anymore..
When I used to eat, mom waited to accompany me at the table..
Mom, look at her child having an appetite..
After this I can't taste mom's cooking anymore..
Mom.. where's mom's child looking for a replacement?
Mom... have you forgiven my sins, mom???"
When are you going to pray for mom's body,
If you can't be a priest, just become a makmum..
Hurry up at the back of the imam..
Mom used to ask us to pray..
Today we do a corpse prayer for mom..
When mom's body wants to go out of the house, we quickly hold mom's coffin..
Let us bear it.. if possible all brothers and sisters will bear it..
Don't give others.. This is our mother..
He used to support us..
He's the one who brought us in his stomach..
Won't we bear his body?
When I was walking, I brought my mother's body to the grave, remember the time when mom held our hands
When we only know how to walk..
Mom didn't let us fall at all..
Now we want to send mom away..
Until the grave, don't let others celebrate mother's body..
Brothers and sisters jump in the pores..
Celebrating mom's body.. Let us open the shroud..
Let us turn mother's body into qibla..
Let us put the ground pillow behind mom's body..
Mom used to make sure we sleep with pillow..
There is a blanket...
Don't get bitten by a mosquito..
This is the last time we get to see mom..
There's no more after this.. At this time if we have sins with mom, it's too late to ask for forgiveness..
Let us manage mom's body...
Not someone else..
Talk in the heart..
′′ Mom.. this is the last time I got to see mom..
This is the last time I got to hold mom..
After this I can't see mom anymore..
I can't hold mom anymore..
I left mom here..
Mom wait for me eh..
Until the time I will see mom here..
Meanwhile mom is sitting here..
I return my mother to God..
Later I pray for mom.. I send charity for mom..
Mom don't worry.. I promise mom.."
Listen to the talking reading for our mother..
This is the first time and the last time we heard it.. Just came back from mom's grave,
Quickly pray for mom..
′′ Ya ALLaH.. I accept you taking my mother..
You forgive my mother's sins.. She used to give birth to me.. She taught me..
She loves me,
Ya ALLaH.. You love him anyway... You accept the charity of mom..
You expand his grave.. You raise his position Ya ALLaH.. You banned the fire of hell for my mother, Ya ALLaH.. Make my mother Your noble servant.."
And then, remember all mom's services..
Remembering what mom's advice is..
Remember all mom's messages..
Mom asked to take care of siblings..
Don't fight..
Pity mom..
He's not easy there when his children are enemies..
Mom can only cry from afar..
We are the ones who are left don't forget about mom..
Sending rewards for mom there..
Pity mom..
If we die, mom won't stop praying for us.. because mom loves her children..
Won't we be so evil with mom?
We won't remember but we didn't do anything?
That's our mother.. Our only mother..
Not someone else..

Credit: @[307834932588786:274:Ustaz Ahmad bin Yahaya]Translated

My sister, Michelle-Ann Iking's 3% chance of conceiving naturally was a success! Here's her story:

(My apologies as I've been overwhelmed with personal matters. I've only managed to get to my desk. So finally got around posting this).

This is the story behind my sister's pregnancy struggle and how she shared her journey over her Facebook page.

Because some may have not caught her LIVE session chat with me (https://www.facebook.com/daphneiking/videos/687743128744960/) , or read her lengthy post (as it's a private page);
she's allowed me to copy and paste it over my wall, in case you need to know more about her thought process on how AND why she focused on the 3% success probability. Read on.

-------------------------------------------

Posted 10th May 2020.
FB Credit: Michelle-Ann Iking

A week ago today I celebrated becoming a mother to our second, long awaited child.

Please forgive this mother's LONG (self-indulgent) post, journalling what this significant milestone has meant for her personally, for her own fallible memory's sake as well as maybe to share one day with her son.

If all you were wondering was whether I had delivered and if mum and bub are OK, please be assured the whole KkLM family are thriving tremendously, and continue scrolling right along your Newsfeed 😁.

OUR 3% MIRACLE

All babies are miracles... and none more so than our precious Kiaen Aaryan (pronounced KEY-n AR-yen), whose name derives from Sanskrit origins meaning:

Grace of God
Spiritual
Kind
Benevolent

...words espousing the gratitude Kishore and I feel for Kiaen's arrival as our "3% miracle".

He was conceived, naturally, after 3 years of Kishore and I hoping, praying and 'endeavoring'... and only couples for whom the objective switches from pure recreation to (elusive) procreation will understand how this is less fun than it sounds ...

3 years during which time we had consensus from 3 different doctors that we, particularly I (with my advancing age etc etc) had only a 3% chance of natural conception and that our best hope for a sibling for our firstborn, Lara Anoushka, was via IVF.

Lara herself was an 'intervention baby', being one of the 20% of babies successfully conceived through the less intrusive IUI process, after a year and a half of trying naturally and already being told then my age was a debilitating factor.

We had tried another round of IUI for her sibling in 2017 when Lara was a year old. And that time we fell into the ranks of the 80% of would-be parents for whom it would be an exercise in futility... who would go home, comfort each other as best they could, while individually masking their own personal disappointment... hoping for the best, 'the next time around'...

So the improbability ratio of 97% against natural conception of our second baby, as concurred by the combined opinion of 3 medical professionals, was a very real, very daunting figure for us to have to mentally deal with.

Deep, DEEP, down in my heart however, though I had many a day of doubt... I kept a core kernel of faith that somehow, I would again experience the privilege of pregnancy, and again, have a chance at childbirth.

And so, the optimist in me would tell myself, "Well, there have to be people who fall in the 3% bucket... why shouldn't WE be part of the 3%?"

Those who know me well, understand my belief in the Law of Attraction, the philosophy of focusing your mind only on what you want to attract, not on what you don't want, and so even as Kishore and I prepared to go into significant personal debt to attempt IVF in the 2nd half of 2019, I marshalled a last ditch effort to hone in on that 3% chance of natural conception... through research coming across fertility supplements that I ordered from the US and sent to a friend in Singapore to redirect to me because the supplier would not deliver to Malaysia.

I made us as a couple take the supplements in the 3 month 'priming period' in the lead up to the IVF procedure - preconditioning our bodies for optimum results, if you will.

At the same time, I had invested in a sophisticated fertility monitor, with probes and digital sensors for daily tracking of saliva and other unmentionable fluid samples, designed to pinpoint with chemical accuracy my state of fertility on any given day.

(UPDATE: For those interested - I obtained the supplements and Ovacue Fertility Monitor from https://www.fairhavenhealth.com/. Though I had my supplies delivered to a friend in Singapore, and redirected to me here since the US site does not deliver to Malaysia, there are local distributors for these products, you will just have to research the trustworthiness of the vendors yourself...)

I had set an intention - in the 3 months of pre-IVF priming, I would consume what seemed like a pharmacy's worth of supplements, and track fertility religiously... in hopes that somehow, within the 3 month priming period, we would conceive naturally and potentially save ourselves a down payment on a new property... and this was just a projection on financial costs of IVF, not even considering the physical, emotional and mental toll it involves, with no guarantee of a baby at the end of it all...

It was a continuation of an intention embedded even with my first pregnancy, where all the big ticket baby items were consciously purchased for use by a future sibling, in gender neutral colours, in hopes that sibling would be a brother "for a balanced pair", though of course any healthy child would be a welcome blessing.

It was a very conscious determination to always skew my thoughts in service of what the end objective was. For example, when 3+year old Lara would innocently express impatience at not yet having a sibling, at one point suggesting that since we were "taking too long to give her a baby brother/sister", perhaps we should just "go buy a baby from a shop", instead of getting defensive or berating the baby that she herself was, we enlisted Lara's help to pray for her sibling... so in any place of worship, or sacred ground of any kind that we passed thereon, Lara would stop, close her eyes, bow her small head and place her tiny hands together in prayer, reciting earnestly, "Please God, please give me a baby brother or baby sister."

After months and months of watching Lara do this, in the constancy of her childlike chant, Kishore started feeling the pressure of possibly disappointing Lara if her prayer was not answered. Whereas for me, Lara's recitation of her simple wish became like a strengthening mantra, our collective intention imbued with greater power with each repetition, and the goal of a sibling kept very much in the forefront of our minds (hence our calling Lara our 'project manager' in this endeavour).

And somehow in the 2nd month of that 3 month period, a positive + sign appeared on one of the home pregnancy tests I had grown accustomed to taking - my version of the lottery tickets others keep buying in hopes of hitting the jackpot, with all the cyclical anticipation and more often than not, disappointment, that entails...

This time however I was not disappointed.

With God's Grace, (hence 'Kiaen', a variation of 'Kiaan' which means 'Grace of God'), my focus on our joining the ranks of the 3% had materialised.

It seems poetic then, that Kiaen chose to make his appearance on the 3rd May, ironically the same date that his paternal great-grandfather departed this world for the next... such that in the combined words of Kishore and his father Kai Vello Suppiah,

"The 1st generation Suppiah left on 3rd May and the 4th generation Suppiah arrived on 3rd May after 41yrs...
One leaves, another comes, the legacy lives on..."

***

KIAEN AARYAN SUPPIAH'S BIRTH STORY

On Sunday 3rd May, I was 40 weeks and 5 days pregnant.

The baby was, in my mind, very UN-fashionably late past his due date of 29th April, so as much as I had willed and 'manifested' the privilege of pregnancy, to say I was keen to be done with it all was an understatement.

In the weeks leading to up to my full term, I had experienced increasingly intense Braxton-Hicks 'practice contractions' - annoying for me for the discomfort involved, stressful for Kishore who was on tenterhooks with the false alarms, on constant alert for when we would actually need to leave home for the hospital.

Having become a Hypnobirthing student and advocate from my first pregnancy with Lara, and thus being equipped with
(1) a lack of fear about childbirth in general and
(2) a basic understanding of how all the sensations I would experience fit into the big picture of my body bringing our baby closer to us,
I was less stressed - content to wait for the baby to be "fully cooked" and come out whenever he was ready... though I wouldn't have minded at all if the cooking time ended sooner, rather than later.

With Lara, I had been somewhat 'forced' into an induced labour, even though she was not yet due, and that had resulted in a 5 DAY LABOUR, a Birth Story for another post, so I was not inclined to chemically induce labour, even though I was assured that for second time mothers, it would be 'much faster and easier'...

That morning, I had a hunch *maybe* that day was the day, because in contrast to previous weeks' sensations of tightening, pressure and even spasms that were concentrated in the front of my abdomen and occasionally shot through my sides and legs, I felt period - like cramping in my lower back which I had not felt before throughout the pregnancy.

It was about 8am in the morning then, and my 'surges' were still relatively mild ('surges' being Hypnobirthing - speak for 'contractions', designed to frame them with the more positive connotations needed to counteract common language in which childbirth is presented as something that is unequivocally painful and traumatic, instead of the miraculous, powerful and natural phenomenon it actually is).

I recall (masochistically?) entertaining the thought of opting NOT to have an epidural JUST TO SEE WHAT IT WOULD BE LIKE...

I figured this would be the last time I would be pregnant and so it would be my 'last chance' to experience 'drug free labour' which, apart from the health benefits for baby and mother, might be *interesting* in a way that people who are curious about what getting a tattoo and skydiving and bungee jumping are like, might find these *interesting*...even knowing there will be pain and risk involved...

Since I have tried tattoos and skydiving (unfortunately not being able to squeeze in bungee-jumping while my life was purely my own to risk at no dependents' possible detriment) a similar curiousity about a no-epidural labour was on my mind...

In the absence of other signs of the onset of labour (like 'bloody show' or my waters breaking), I wanted to wait until the surges were coming every few minutes before we actually left the house for the hospital, not wanting to be one of those couples who rushed in too early and had interminable waits for the next stage in unfamiliar, clinical surroundings and/or were made to go home in an anti-climatic manner.

I was even calm enough through my surges to have the presence of mind to wash and blowdry my hair, knowing if I did deliver soon I would not be allowed this luxury for a while.

Around 9am I asked Kishore to prep for Lara and himself to be dressed and breakfasted so we could head to hospital soon, while I sent messages to family members on both sides informing them 'today might be the day.'

My mother, who had briefly served as a midwife before going back into general nursing and then becoming a nursing tutor, prophetically stated that if what I was experiencing was true labour, "the baby would be out by noon".

The pace in which my surges grew closer together was surprisingly quicker than I expected; and while I asked Lara to "Hurry up with breakfast" with only a tad more urgency than we normally tell her to do, little Missy being prone to dilly-dallying at meals, I probably freaked Kishore out when about 930am onwards, I had to instinctively get on my hands and knees a couple of times, eyes closed, trying to practice the Hypnobirthing breathing techniques I had revised to help along the process of my body birthing our child into the world.

I recall him saying a bit frantically as I knelt at our front door, doubled over as he waited for Lara to complete something or other, "Lara hurry up! Can't you see Mama is in so much pain and you are taking your own sweet time??!!"

SIDETRACK: Just the night before, Lara and I had watched a TV show in which a woman gave birth with the usual histrionics accompanying pop culture depictions of labour.

Lara watched the scene, transfixed.

I told her, simply and matter-of-factly, "That's what Mama has to do to get baby brother out Lara, and that's what I had to do for you also."

In most of interactions with my daughter, I have sought to equip her to face life's situations with calmness, truthful common sense, and ideally a minimum of drama.

Those who know the dramatic diva that Lara can be will know that this is a work-in-progress, but her response to me that night showed me some of my 'teachings' were sinking in:

She looked at me unfazed, "But Mama," she said. "You won't cry and scream like that lady, right? You will be BRAVE and stay calm, right?"
#nopressure.

So as we prepped to leave for the hospital I did indeed attempt to be that role model of calm for her, asking her only for her help in keeping very quiet,
"Because Mama needs to focus on bringing baby brother out and she needs quiet to concentrate...".

As we left the house at 10.11am, I texted Kishore's sister Geetha to please prep to pick up Lara from the hospital, and was grateful Kishore had the foresight to ask our gynae to prepare a letter for Geetha to show any police roadblocks between my in-laws' home in Subang Jaya and the hospital in Bangsar, this all happening under the Movement Control Order (MCO).

To Lara's credit, in the journey over to the hospital, she - probably sensing the gravity of the situation, sat very quietly in her seat at the back, and the silence was punctuated only by my occasional deep intakes of breath and some variation of my Ohmmm-like moans when the sensations were at their height.

By the time we got to Pantai Hospital at around 10.30am, my surges were strong enough I requested a wheelchair to assist me in getting to the labour ward, as I did not trust my own legs to support me... and Kishore would have to wait until Geetha had arrived to take Lara back to my in-laws' house before he himself could go up.

I slumped in the wheelchair and was wheeled up to the labour room with my eyes closed the whole time, trying to handle my surges.

I didn't even look up to see the attendant who pushed me... but did make the effort to thank him sincerely when he handed me over, with what seemed like a palpable sense of relief on his part, to the labour ward nurses.

The nurse attending me at Pantai was calm, steady and efficient. I answered some questions and changed into my labour gown while waiting for Kishore to come up, all the while managing the increasingly intense surges with my rusty Hypnobirthing breathing techniques.

By the time Kishore joined me at around 11am (I know these timings based on the timestamps of the 'WhatsApp live feed' of messages Kishore sent to his family), I was asking the nurse on duty, "How soon can I get an epidural??" thinking what crazy woman thought she could do this without drugs???!!!

The nurse checked my cervix dilation, I saw her bloodied glove indicating my mucous plug had dislodged, and she told me, "Well you are already at 7cm (which, for the uninitiated, is 70% of the way to the 10cm dilation needed for birthing), you are really doing well, if you made it this far without any drugs, if can you try and manage without it... I suspect within 2 hours or less you will deliver your baby and since it will take about that time for the anaesthesiologist to be called, epidural to be administered and kick in... it might all be for nothing... but of course the decision is completely up to you... "

So there I was, super torn, should I risk the sensations becoming worse... or risk the epidural becoming a waste?? And of course I was trying to decide this as my labour surges were coming at me stronger and stronger...

I was in such a dilemma...because as a 'recovering approval junkie' there was also a silly element of approval-seeking involved, ("The nurse thinks I can do this without drugs... maybe I CAN do this without drugs... Yay me!") mixed with that element of curiosity I mentioned earlier ("What if I actually CAN do this without drugs... plenty of other women have done it all over the world since time immemorial.. no big deal, how bad can it be...??") so then I thought I would use the financial aspect to be the 'tiebreaker' in my decision making...

I asked the nurse how much an epidural would cost and when she replied "Around MYR1.5k", I still remember Kishore's incredulous face as I asked the question, i.e."Seriously babe, you are gonna think about money right now? If you need the epidural TAKE IT, don't worry about the money!!!"... and while we are not rich by any stretch of the imagination, thankfully RM1.5k is not a quantum that made me swing towards a decision to "better save the money"...

So in the end, I guess my curiosity won out, and I turned down the epidural "just to see what it would be like and if I had it in me" (in addition of course to avoiding the side effects of any drugs introduced into my and the baby's body).

My labour occuring in the time of coronavirus, it was protocol for me to have a COVID19 test done, so the medical staff could apply the necessary precautions. I had heard from a friend Sharon Ruba that the test procedure was uncomfortable, so when the nurse came with the test kit as I was starting another surge, I asked, "Please can I just finish this surge before I do the test?" as I really didn't think I could multitask tackling multiple uncomfortable sensations in one go.

The COVID19 test involved what felt like a looong, skinny cotton bud being inserted into one nostril... I definitely felt more than a tickle as it went in and up, being told to take deep breaths by the nurse. Then she asked me to "Try to swallow" and I felt it go into my nasal cavities where I didn't think anything could go any further, but was proven wrong when she asked me to swallow again and the swab was probed even deeper. Then she warned me there would be some slight discomfort as she prepared to collect a sample... but at that point all I could think about was:

(i) I really don't have much of a choice
(ii) please let this be over before my next surge kicks in
(iii) if all the people breaking the MCO rules knew what it feels like to do this test maybe they won't put themselves at risk of the need to perform one...

In full disclosure as I was transferred into the actual delivery room at some point after 11am, another nurse offered me 'laughing gas' to ostensibly take some of the edge off... I took the self-operated breathing nozzle passed to me but don't recall it making any difference to my sensations..so didn't use it much as it seemed pretty pointless.

I recall some measure of relief when I heard my gynae Dr. Paul entering the room, greeting Kishore and me, and telling us it was going well and it wouldn't be long now and he would see us again shortly.

From my previous labour with Lara I knew the midwives pretty much take you 90% of the way through the labour and when the Dr is called in you are really at the home stretch, so was very relieved to hear his voice though knowing he would leave and come back later meant it wasn't quite over yet.

I do remember realising when I had crossed the Thinning and Opening Phase of labour to the Birthing Phase, by the change in sensations... it is still amazing to me that as the Hypnobirthing book mentioned, having this knowledge I was instinctively able to switch breathing techniques for the next stage of labour .

Was my opting against epidural the right choice for me?

Overall? Yes.

Don't get me wrong.

I *almost* regretted the decision several times during active labour... especially when I felt my body being taken over by an overwhelming compulsion to push that did not seem conscious and was accompanied by involuntary gutteral moans where I literally just thought to myself, "I surrender, God do with me what you will..." (super dramatic I know but VERY real at the time...).

I think I experienced 3-4 such natural explusive reflexes (?), rhythmically pushing the baby down the birth path, one of which was accompanied by what felt like a swoosh of water coming out of a hose with a diameter the size of a golf ball... this was when I realised my water had finally broken...

The nurses kept instructing me to do different things, to keep breathing, to move to my side, then to move to the middle, to raise my feet... and when I didn't comply, Kishore (who was with me throughout both my labours) tried to help them by repeating the instructions prefaced with "Sayang..." but I basically ignored all the intructions because I felt I had no capacity to direct any part of my body to do anything and someone else would have to physically manoeuvre that body part themselves.

When I heard Dr. Paul's voice again and the flurry of commotion surrounding his presence, I knew the time was close... and when I heard the nurse say to Kishore, "Sir, these are your gloves, for when you cut the baby's cord", it was music to my ears...

I'm very, VERY grateful Kiaen slid out after maybe the 4th of those involuntary pushes... the wave of RELIEF when he came out so quickly... it still boggles my mind that my mother was essentially right and as his birth time was 12.02pm, it was *only* about 1.5 hours between our arrival at the hospital and his arrival into the world.

Kiaen was placed on my chest for skin to skin bonding and remained there for a considerable time.

For our short stay in the hospital he would be with us in my maternity ward number C327... another trivially serendipitous sign for me because he was born on the 3rd (May) and our wedding anniversary is 27th (July).

I was discharged the following day 4th May at about 5.30pm, after I got an all clear on COVID19 and a paediatric surgeon did a small procedure on Kiaen to address a tongue-tie that would affect his breastfeeding latch... making the entire duration of our stay about 31 hours.

I have taken the time and effort to record all this down so that whenever life's challenges threaten to get me down I can remind myself, "Ignore the 97% failure probability, focus on the 3% success probability".

Also that the human condition is miraculous and it is such a privilege to experience it.

To our son Kiaen Aaryan, thank you for coming into our lives and choosing us as your parents.

Even though Papa and I are both zombies trying to settle into a night time feeding routine with you, I look forward to spending not only all future Mother's Days, but every day, with you and your Akka...

And last but not least, to my husband Kishore...without whom none of this would be possible - we did it sayang, I love you ❤️

Photo credit: Stayhome session with Samantha Yong Photography (http://samanthayong.com/)

Reading this post by @Shacind Ananthan
(@shacindananthan) made me cry tears of joy and pride, I felt compelled to share it with all of you...

"This is for all my fellow Malaysians who are still abroad; I hope this gives you a little insight on what went on during my journey from the UK all the way to the hotel I am quarantined in in KL. To my non-Malaysian friends, this is me unabashedly showing off the exemplary work by our government. This is my tribute to the countless men and women in duty who assisted us with so much care and respect.

It all started on the plane from Doha to KL, where I had transited from Manchester. With a mere 50 people on the plane, we were all fairly separated to sit in isolation from one another. After taking off, we were handed a Health Declaration form to fill up. In addition to the general information (name, age, etc), COVID specific questions were also asked. It even asked for our flight and seat number- I figured it was to track down those who came in contact with a suspected COVID-19 patient.

When I landed in KLIA, we were greeted warmly by 2 men in uniform at the end of the jet bridge. One was coordinating us to queue, strictly keeping in mind the 1m gap, and the other was guiding us to the skytrain on a Segway. As we approached the skytrain, another policewoman took over and brought us to the bus lounge, where we boarded a bus to the arrival hall. Each bus had a maximum of only 10 people, and the seats were marked with an ‘X’ to make sure we sat adjacent to each other. In the bus was another policewoman who made sure we went in one by one, and only allowed the next person to enter once the previous one had sat down. A recurring theme you would find is that at every ‘checkpoint’ there were at least 1-2 officers who did their job so diligently, that there was no hold up, making the process very smooth. It felt as if this was an extremely well thought out procedure that had been going on for years. All the i’s were dotted and t’s crossed.

Once we alighted the bus, we walked to the immigration counters and were screened by an infra-red thermometry system. After passing it, we were guided towards a team of health officials from KKM on the right. I was very impressed with the number of health officials and the amenities provided for them. There were around 10 officials in what looked like full hazmat suits, each provided with a chair and table. I was greeted by this lovely woman, who asked for my health declaration form and reaffirmed if I had any symptoms. The constant glee on her face and referring to me as “adik” made me feel like I was in safe hands. The first step to addressing a crisis is to calm the stakeholders. It is the little things like these that reassures one in an anxiety driven situation. She then gave me a home assessment form where I had to monitor and report my symptoms daily.

After clearing the immigration, we queued up to sanitize our hands, and then were given another form to register our particulars and emergency contacts. We sat down and filled up the forms while waiting for 3 more batches of people to arrive. After 20 minutes passed, a police officer gave us a short briefing on the do’s and don’ts while in quarantine. The question on everyone’s minds was “where are we being taken?”. I overheard conversations of people praying that it was a five-star hotel in KL. However dire the circumstances, the innate Malaysian tendency to always expect luxury never fades, does it? The policeman politely replied that he wasn’t sure where we were going to be quarantined, but assured us it was going to be a good place nevertheless.

Then we were escorted by another officer to the baggage claim area where our luggage had already been taken off the baggage carousel and organized for us to simply go and grab them. I figured that this was to reduce the contact between people in case we crowd around the conveyer belt. This also significantly reduced the time taken for us to get re-organized. Take note of the little details that the authorities paid attention to.

Later on, the same police officer led us to the arrival hall where 3 Smart Selangor buses had already been parked for us to board. Before entering the bus, a fireman proceeded to fumigate our luggage and backpacks one by one, while we sanitized our hands once more before being handed a bag full of snacks by another officer. In the bus was a lady who helped us load our luggage. It was very systematic, only allowing one person in the bus at a time to maintain social distancing.

We waited for around 30 minutes for all 3 batches of people to board the buses. My mind was still in a state of disbelief, I and kept wondering how much manpower and logistics it must have taken to make the process as smooth as possible and achieve this insane level of efficiency. Before leaving, the bus driver announced that we were being taken to Impiana KLCC Hotel. Mental gasps could be heard from the 15 people in the bus.

The journey to the hotel was just short of 50 minutes. We were all aghast looking at the sight before us when we reached the hotel. People were busy clicking pictures and taking videos of the scene that frankly seemed like it belonged to a distant dystopian future. Dozens of people in full hazmat suits were standing by a long table which looked like an assembly line, busy screening and registering us aliens. Before we got off the bus, a man in a PASKAU uniform briefed us on the next course of action. He told us to keep our passports ready for registration. We patiently helped each other with the luggage (still maintaining an appropriate distance) and queued up according to yellow tapes on the ground. I was standing in line between two sisters, so I offered the one behind me to take my spot but she politely declined. Soon enough, it was my turn.

The lady at the start of the table proceeded to check my temperature with a temperature gun and passed me another form, similar to the home assessment one. I then handed my passport to the next guy who immediately photo stated it with the photocopier behind him. While waiting for my passport, the following person asked for my phone number and my place of origin. After I received my passport, I was given the room key along with two masks and was quickly thrusted into the hotel. While it seemed quick and rushed, it was effective as the primary goal was to limit as much contact with others as possible.

As I walked in, I saw the girl who was in front of me struggling with her 4 huge bags, so me and another KKM personnel assisted her into the lift. We had a brief conversation and I got to know that she was a third-year student who had to leave the UK and pack her things for good overnight. Laughing at the fact that our rooms were next to each other, we bid goodbye and stormed into our rooms. In the room were two boxes of bottled water, plastic bags for the contaminated clothes, a huge bag filled with coffee, biscuits and snacks and so on. We are being served good nutritious food three times a day and housed in a four star (some five star) hotel all for free of charge. There is 24/7 surveillance and a medical team at our doorstep at all times. I bow down to this great nation with utmost humility, thank you for this Malaysia.

This lockdown/ quarantine has really cultivated the sense of community and the innate feeling of unity that we had lost. Though the time frame of when this epidemic will end is still unclear, it became clear to me that we will pull through, because that’s what Malaysians do best. This was further proven when all 74 of us quarantined at Impiana KLCC were added into a WhatsApp group by Lieutenant Zakee (who was in charge of our welfare in the hotel) for ease of communication. The group was instantly flooded with messages of hope, optimism and love and gratitude for the lieutenant, health workers and other officers who heroically put our welfare in front of their own lives.

Why am I writing this? This is a primary account of someone who experienced the plight of leaving a foreign country overnight with an uncertain future. This is to counter the fake narratives online that seek to defame our great nation. The entire ecosystem functioned like a well-oiled machine, NO stone was left unturned. It is not an overstatement when I say that Malaysia has been one of the most proactive countries with tackling the menace of COVID-19. Therefore, I urge the armchair economists at home, the constant naysayers- if you cannot acknowledge the good our government is doing, at least don’t stand in their way.

Thank you again, Malaysia, for keeping me safe. I have always been, am always, and will always be a proud citizen of this country that has given me so much.

Tanah tumpahnya darahku!

- Shacind Ananthan
(@shacindananthan)

LONG DISTANCE TIMESCAN DOCUMENTARY T-SHIRTS ARE OUT NOW
https://www.timescan.store/product-page/long-distance-t

For the third episode of our documentary series 'LONG DISTANCE', we feature artist HIROTTON where he talks about living in London, his connections with Heroin Skateboards, how his friends work inspired him to start drawing, his love for nature, and the messages in his works.

Check out the links below
@hirotton
http://p-r-d-x.com/
http://hailprints.com/

@timescan
https://timescan.store/

Hello Youtube Family,

Today’s Vlog:
Bye Bye Cellulite?
Night Night NaNa!
Youtube Glitch,
Let’s Stretch Together!

I've been doing the cupping massage daily for about a week and while it's too early to say whether my cellulite has improved or not, I do feel that my thighs feel firmer.

For the past several vlogs, I keep getting messages from you guys that you aren't getting notifications on new vlogs. I'm not sure if this is a glitch or not but please be sure to make sure you are subscribed and remember to hit the bell to get notifications. Tim has been away for over 2 weeks already and guess what? He's flying back soon! WOHOOOO!!!!! I can't wait for him to come back to clip my toe nails. They are crazily long and I just can't seem to reach my toes right now. Lucky him.

As I approach the finishing line, my joints have gotten more stiff and achey so one of my favourite things to do at night is to stretch out the muscles. Isaac enjoys doing this daily routine with me and even suggests grandmother to join. Bless him.


Love, the Bubz Family xo




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Hi Everyone! ( MORE INFO BELOW!)

Khairun and I are finally married! I hope you guys enjoy this video after I've been on hiatus for a really long time. Our wedding video was shot by Fariqqin Anuar and his work is freaking fantastic! More details of how and where you can find him will be listed below :)

I would just wanna say thank you to all of you guys on YouTube and Instagram for sending us messages, and leaving comments with your well wishes. Thank you for taking the time to care and show so much love to us as we embark in our new adventure as husband and wife.

Thanks again, and I hope to be back on track with my videos really soon!

All our love,
Tiara and Khairun
✿ WEDDING DETAILS ✿

- Videography -
Fariqqin Anuar
Instagram: http://instagram.com/fariqqin
YouTube: http://youtube.com/fariqqinanuar
Email: fariqqinanuar@gmail.com

- Photography -
Dyn NAFIMAGES
Instagram: http://instagram.com/nafimages
Email: nafimages@gmail.com
Facebook: www.facebook.com/nafimages

- Bridal -
ISHQ by Nora Zee
Makeup by Nora Zee
Instagram: http://instagram.com/ishqbynorazee
Email: ishqbynorazee@gmail.com

(I'll blog about my wedding details soon. Let me know if you want me to do a video too!)

✿ FIND ME HERE :) ✿

BLOG: http://tiaramblesss.wordpress.com
INSTAGRAM: http://instagram.com/tiaradusqie
SNAPCHAT: @tiaradusqie
Email: [email protected]

✿ I upload new videos every Thursday, GMT+0800

✿ TECH DETAILS ✿

Main Camera: Canon EOS 600D, 50mm fixed lens or 18-55mm lens
Vlog Camera: Sony RX100 IV

None of these products are sponsored, unless stated otherwise.

Thank you all for watching!

Tiara xx