Hazia’s Reflections

I had lunch with the media buyer lady whom I met at work weeks ago. We went to Pizza Hut only to realise that it was a bad idea as both of us were fussy. The Olio Spaghetti tasted like dry Maggi mee, that bad! No olive oil at all. She invited a guy from an advertising agency that she worked with.

We chatted about all sorts things, include her mild ability to see spirits. There was an instance where a Penanggal (which she nicknamed Maya Karin) followed her home. Her car and clothes smelled of carcass. Her friend, who has a strong ability, said whenever she travelled long distance, she was scared to look into the mirror. All sorts of supernatural creatures will get a ‘lift’ from her.

Oh, and she said talking to me has raised her confidence to go for Haj. She has been unsure of going for years, she thought she was not ready. The guy with her has also performed Haj a year after I did. He said the five-star hotel in Mina is ready and that was where Siti Nurhaliza and her family stayed for RM100k per person package. Wow! I can’t imagine not staying at the desert tent for 4 nights, I thought that was the peak of the Haj challenge… very crammed living space, harden sand to sleep on, on-going toilet queue (bathing was almost impossible), heat, etc, etc.

The guy saw an unsual incidence at Masjidil Haram. An Arab guy suddenly started screaming hysterically and tugging at his ihram attire, he said it was hot. He ended up taking off the white cloth and running around naked at the grand mosque. Security guards quickly chased after him. He fainted on the floor and they covered him up with Sejadah.

Coincidentally, I have just finished Kiswah, a novel by Isa Kamari. It started off with a religious young couple going for honeymoon in India & Kashmir and followed by Umrah. The language used was beautiful and poetic. The description of the boathouse at the enchanting Lake Dal… the romantic pavilion at Shalimar, the garden of love… all make me want to visit the sites.

The husband developed a high sexual drive and the ‘power’ of the holy land brought out the ‘worst side of him’. I think the part about the wife confidently performing Umrah despite being separated from him at the mosque was unreliastic, it was their first time there. The gripping climax was when a taxi driver unexpectedly drove off his wife when he was returning the hotel key, probably to be made a sexual slave to a rich Arab, yeah in Makkah. He stayed on for 3 months but failed to find her.

This struck an inspiration for my Haj story ie Lost & Found. Rather than writing about people getting lost in the mosque only, why not extend it to them going missing overnight, to things may not working out well in the end - prolong the suspense. Now I could feel the story taking a life of its own:)