feeling elated

Am at Azza’s comp. Dunno where she is rite now. I'm feeling very elated. Just gave zaid the final print-out of the Catalyst (MSC Bullletin) to photostate tomorrow. Just met with Shams for his approval of this edition and Syed to discuss the Education Bureau.

Can’t wait for the AGM this Friday. I’ll be able to retire (hehe cam ape je) from the Medical Students’ Society Council. I haven’t done much or caused much change, but I am satisfied with what I’ve done so far. I’ll support kak Liya when she continues for another term.

Though it took quite a lot of my time, I must admit that I had some wonderful experiences and privileges. Who else gets to go to the Dean’s house for dinner or photocopy for free or greet foreign students at KLIA? I can’t say I love the abundant meetings, but who else gets first hand info on the happenings.

Enough of that. i’m also happy for Kak Yung, Kak Ngah, Nibah and Kak Chik. I can’t wait to become an aunt. Nibah was accepted for the Mock Trial scheduled for this August’s CONVEST. She’s gonna be one of the council for the adaptation of Sydney Sheldon’s:Tell Me Your Dreams. Chik won a debate at school.
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This evening’s silat practical was fun. We’re continuing at a faster pace. I can tolerate the jurulatih’s lectures a bit now. We have to finish our lessons by August. Whilst we were training, pak cik Jo, the chief instructor asked who went to Megamall during the weekend. Kak liya raised her hand but he dismissed her, said that it wasn’t her he met. Then he saw me and said that I was the one. I dah ternganga since I didn’t realise his presence at all. He said that he was right in front of me but I was so busy explaining to some other people that I didn’t even glance his way. I started to go all red. He said mungkin Allah tak nak bagi nampak. That added to my embarrassment. When practice was over, he went on about how we should take more notice of our surroundings however busy we are. Hehe, malu gile!

Ok about this exhibition, we were supposed to introduce and promote IIUM to the masses since many are oblivious of our presence here in Kuantan. So we focused on the human anatomy displaying plastinated organs such as the brain, lung, heart, kidney and spleen, a full skeleton, a plastic model of a torso with all its organs and also some charts of the body. We also set up an area to check people’s blood pressure and BMI. We also had a demo on CPR.

I have to say that our booth was one of the most visited booths besides Petrosains and Pusat Sains Negara’s booths. They had cool games and technology but we had eager med students to explain whatever people wanted to know and also free health check-up. We were the only students handling a booth. The rest were government officers from Jabatan Kimia, Jababatan Kaji Cuaca, Muzium Telekom etc in conjunction with the Science and Technology Carnivial.

I was assigned the evening shift. When we arrived in the afternoon, it was packed. We could see our colleagues exhausted faces. I immediately took over explaining the organs. I had a helluva time meng’goreng’. Some people were truly interested and I tried my best to answer their questions. However some guys did stay quite a long time and asked plenty of questions. Common questions were
-Paru-paru berair tu betul2 ke air sebab mandi waktu malam?
-Serangan jantung cemane?
-Jantung berlubang cemane?
-Mane tulang rusuk yang kurang satu tu?
-Ni organ betul ke? Sape punye?

There were also ngade2 questions such as “macam mana mekanisma dari mata boleh jatuh ke hati?”. Being the lurus bendul person I am, I explained how that was irrelevant to anatomy and has nothing to do with the liver. Huh, due tiga kali tanye baru I realized orang tu ngorat rupenye. Haha. Lawak2.

On Sunday, many families came to our booth. Malunye sebab tak perasan when pak cik Jo tu datang. Though my shift was only in the morning, I stayed till evening and helped kemas everything. On the whole, it was a wonderful experience.
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Owh, last Sunday night we had usrah. I was very tired after the exhibition and concerned more about memorizing the surah that I hadn’t the time or energy to think about anything else. When my naqibah came to pick us up, she came in a car which was unusual. She always brings the estima to pick up the five of us. Syahadah said that Asma and Nik will be going by themselves. I was puzzled by this fact and asked her again and again but she just ignored me. Sibah didn’t know too. Pelik…pelik.

I was starting to feel geram for being clueless of everything. Asma’ and nik were already at dr’s house. So was Azza. They seemed to have cooked something. This increased my grumpiness because I thought that they wanted to celebrate sibah’s birthday but left me out of the planning. How could they.

Haha, they were actually planning to celebrate sibah and MY birthday. Give me a proper celebration la, hehe. Terharu. Tapi rase cam basi dah. But twas sweet anyway. Who can stay moody with friends like these? They made chicken and leek pie and also apple crumble. Oh, so heavenly. Hilang sume penat :)

12.56 am
28th july

Indonesians departure

I had an enriching week and weekend.

The Indonesian students from Universiti Muhammadiyah Yogyakarta went back after doing a month of elective postinmg here. I couldn't accompany them to KLIA or Gombak because i had promised kak Liya i'd help her with the exhibition during the weekend at Berjaya Megamall, one of the hip places to be in Kuantan.

I'm kinda glad actually, not with their departure, but a relief of the responsibility i had towards them. I kinda left their welfare at the mercy of the busy fifth years justifying myself that my tight schedule did not allow me to do more than i could. We, as in the MSC office bearers, especially myself and my colleague didn't really give them a proper reception, plan any activities for them or even a decent goodbye. But all was not disastrous, they went back with the memory of having dined at our Dean's house. yup, the Dean, Dato Prof Tahir himself, invited them over for dinner and we, tumpang sekaki. tak penah gi rumah Dean sebelum nih. nak tunggu budak indon ade baru leh gi.

about the exhibition, it was in conjuction with the Science and Technology Carnival organised by Majlis Perbandaran Kuantan. Kulliyyah of Medicine UIA was invited to participate. The Medical Students' Council was asked to take it up. Being involved in it taught me quite a lot.

GTG for class. will update later.

Glossary oF mED tERMS

Alternative Medical Terms

Benign................What you be after you be eight.
Artery................The study of paintings. Bacteria..............
Back door to cafeteria.
Barium................What doctors do when patients die.
Cesarean Section......A neighborhood in Rome.
Cat scan...............Searching for kitty.
Cauterize.............Made eye contact with her.
Colic.................A sheep dog.
Coma..................A punctuation mark.
D & C.................Where Washington is.
Dilate................To live long.
Enema.................Not a friend.
Fester................Quicker than someone else.
Fibula................A small lie.
Genital...............Non-Jewish person.
G.I. Series...........World Series of military baseball.
Hangnail..............What you hang your coat on.
Impotent..............Distinguished, well known.
Labor Pain............Getting hurt at work.
Medical Staff.........A Doctor's cane.
Morbid................A higher offer than I bid.
Nitrates..............Cheaper than day rates.
Node..................Was aware of
Outpatient.... .......A person who has fainted.
Pap Smear..... .......A fatherhood test.
Pelvis................Second cousin to Elvis.
Post Operative........A letter carrier.
Recovery Room.........Place to do upholstery.
Rectum................Darn near killed him.
Secretion.............Hiding something.
Seizure...............Roman emperor.
Tablet................A small table.
Terminal Illness......Getting sick at the Bus Station
Tumor.................More than one.
Urine.................Opposite of you're out.
Varicose..............Near by/close by.
Vein..................Conceited.

Ahammiyyatul ma'

The importance of water.

the girls woke up this morning horrified to find the taps devoid of water. the only sink left with water was at the first level of block A, giving out a pathetic supply. Most of the clinical students rushed to Jalan hospital Campus to bathe. some went to the CF building to us the toilet there. others tadah air from the pantry sink and brought it to the toilet.

the water problem started last week but it was still mild then. only the pantry sinks were dry. this morning caught some of the girls unaware. some did anticipate the problem and had earlier on 'tadah air awal-awal'. i was among the former group.

only when it is scarce do we appreciate things. i do feel guilty for all the time that i am wasteful.

zero defect doctor

owh, there's a few more advice from Prof Muhaya;

-she said that when we become doctors we cannot afford to make mistakes and we have to be 'zero defect' doctors! that's one high standard but there's no option to it. we do not want to become sinful doctors, na'uzubillahhi min dzalik.

-every line in medicine that you learn will help save lives besides increasing our marvellationa and awe towards Allah Azza Wa Jalla.

-for everything that you learn, say Subahanallah.

-you are in the best position to da'wah!

-never pecah amanh!

-always tawakkal to Allah...

-traps for med students;

1. culture shock... new surrounding, new environment, away from family...how to cope
2. choosing the wrong friends... the type of crowd would definitely determine a person
3. living in past glory... spm 17 A1's doesn't determine success in u also..
4. susah lihat orang senang, senang lihat orang susah... leads to keeping info to oneself and not sharing with others..
5. no discussion group because ego, dengki, or just plain malasss
6. burn the midnight oil, and qadha' during the day, then ponteng klas... the night Allah made for istiraahah..

-to those involving in extra curricular activities, do meetings or usrahs after Asar... after Isya' is study time...

-PCR; Preview, Concentrate and Review.

-teaching educates the teacher. if you read, you get 10%, listen only-20%, read and listen-50%, plus discuss -70%, do the mcq's 90% and 100% if you impart it to others!

a debate and harry potter 6!

last weekend was fulfilling!

i attended a debate between Dr Asri and Astora Jabat on Saturday at Dewan Bahasa and Pustaka. the organisers repeatedly reminded the audience that it was an intellectual forum and a majlis ilmu so everything went well though it could be clearly seen which side had the stongest points and who got the most supprters... the turnout was quite remarkable. myself had to squeeze between two makciks.. maybe i'll post up the points i got from the debate later...

i was surprised to meet Amirah that morning. she was there to attend another forum organized by UMNO on Agenda Melayu (some of me frens tersesat ke situ). tis sad that we just sempat salam. her programme ended far longer than mine. menarik jugak to know what the hell they discuss at those meetings...hmm.

after that, i met nibah at KL Sentral and we both set off for One Utama to see Kak Yung. it was already 4pm by then but we had a late lunch anyway. kak yung had bought the 6th Harry Potter book; HP and the half-blood prince, yay! she let me read it first but i couldn't bring it back to Kuantan so i had to speed read and curi-curi mase to read it at the same time searching for a present for ayah.

any interesting parts that i'd read, i'd update and tell nibah, she didn't mind coz she hasn't even read the 5th book. i was smiling, gasping and having a helluva time reading it :)

sedihnya the ending.. i guess if i wasn't in such a hurry to finish it, i might've cried.. hehe.. takkan nak nangis kat OU depan sume org kan.. yung and i were predicting who the half-blood prince was but we were wrong.. saje je J.K Rowling...

hmm, there's a bit more cintan-cintan in this one... dah besa dah sume.. can't believe they're already grown up, dah 16...still think ginny kecik lagi..

golongan yang hina

"Before you heal others, you must heal yourself"

That's what Prof Dr Muhaya said to us when she came to Kuantan to register her daughter in the Kulliyyah of Medicine. Prof Muhaya, an opthalmologist, having a legacy of excellence, spared some time to give us a short tazkirah.

She started by mentioning four categories of people;

1. golongan yang utama or excellent or eheh awla :) are those who only speak when necessary and their words increase the knowledge of others or are beneficial to others. they have many ideas and they put them into action. their free time are used up for zikir!
2. golongan yang biasa or the unextraodinary or normal people are those who talk about peristiwa or happenings or stories without much benefit to others... purposeless ramblings and rantings???
3. golongan yang negative, negative and more negative; they are pessimistic people, always complaining and they can find fault in everything but themselves. it's either the very hot weather or the monotonous and boring lecturer or the noisy surrounding or the faulty equipment etc.
4. golongan yang hina! they 're the ones who are self-absorbed and self-centered. they feel that the world revolves around the. their main topic is 'me, myself and i'. examples are those who feel that things or events happen or become a reality because of them. 'kalau takde saye, tak jadi projek ni' etc.

reflecting upon all four categories, i realize i have a bit of all four of 'em. prolly more of group 2, 3 and 4 than i should have and maybe i have a little of the group 1 trait.

hina! man that's harsh yet undoubtedly true. how can anyone benefit others if cannot see past themselves?

ok, awla, enough of yourself. concentrate more on others now!!!

the minitest result came out today. it was delayed due to the fact that the machine that was supposed to process our answers broke down. we had to wait for the new machine that came last monday. i'm glad i didn't do too bad...i ranked 17 out of 105, not bad at all...hehe. now i don't feel so guilty for going to the scientific meeting the weekend before the test, which has somehow been bugging at me.

yesterday, i started feeling guilty and lousy for my incompetency for not handling the indonesians elective posting as well as i should have. i practically did nothing this time. i was informed by my headcomm but having other priorities made me shift the info to the farthest end of my mind. i don't think i want to continue for another term. may be i'll focus on other areas and sharpen up other skills, if i have any...

i always have something to write about in the toilet or on the way to class or during meals or before bed and every other time except when i sit in front of the computer in the lab.

i guess i should have figured why my mood was so lousy.

can't wait to finish 'The Catalyst'. seems like i've been working on it forever. can't study coz i keep thinking bout it.

please please Ya Allah, help me complete it soon!

Majlis Syura Muslimun UK & Eire: Central London Blasts

Majlis Syura Muslimun UK & Eire: Central London Blasts

giant moth outbreak

Did u notice the brief outbreak of giant moths?

They were everywhere; on stairs, floors, ceilings, and rooms. They were at the hostel and the kulliyyah. On my trip to the Scientific meeting, one flew into the bus, then, they were there at Temerloh where we stopped for a while and then they were also in Gombak.

now i think all of them are dying if not already dead. their remains can be seen everywhere.

Hmmm, how short their lifespan is. At least they have fulfilled their life purpose which is to mate and reproduce in ensuring the continuity of their species. They can die happily knowing that they shall not be questioned on Judgement Day and face their Creator. Even if they are questioned, they can answer that they have done what they were destined to do.

What about us? Human beings, created to serve and worship, equipped with various faculties to ease our path and better still, rewarded when we do what is requested of us... why is it that we still remain arrogant?

My dependency problem.

i have to confess. i've succumbed to the pitfalls of coffee dependency. if i fail to take my morning dose, the rest of the day would remain a blur of lectures and possibly practicles too. i never used to be stuck on coffee. it started a month ago concurrently with my entrance into the 2nd year.

i took little bits of it once and added it to my morning's milo but later stopped when my friend advised me against it for fear of desensitization.

this block, it seems disastrous when i skip my morning cup of coffee. this morning for example, i could barely stay awake in class to keep up with the lecture. this does worry me so.

A SWEET STORY

I took this story from a mailing list i subscribe to: muslim_sisters_club@yahoogroups.com

A MANGO FOR A BRIDE

by Nancy Bint Ronald

My father’s house was in a greater state of uproar than usual, and since there were six of us children – well, we’re all grown now, but when we’re home, we’re no longer truly adults – six of us and our families spending a great amount of time in the house, the level of noise and chaos was pretty amazing. My infant son Aadam was the youngest of the horde, and with him in my arms I sat in the kitchen, watching Mama and my older sister Manal coring tiny eggplants for mahshi and trying to keep the older kids from dipping into the pots and bowls crowded on the countertops.

“Don’t eat that, you’ll spoil your appetite and there won’t be enough for everyone later.” My nephew Ali only grinned at my rebuke, and since I couldn’t chase him with the baby in my arms, I just sighed resignedly as he made off with a dripping piece of cactus fruit. I was a soft touch, anyway, unable to put any authority into my voice. I had a real weakness for the luscious, refreshing tin shoki, and I had to resist the urge to ask him to bring me one. My son distracted me at that moment by spitting up on the front of my dress, so I put aside thoughts of food and reached for a towel.

“Ah, the joys of motherhood.” I really wasn’t complaining, for my son was the greatest joy in my life. The second greatest joy would be seeing my little brother Bashir get married, which was what all the hoopla in the house was about. When he returned from a trip overseas and announced that he was ready to settle down, we were all overjoyed and anxious, too. He was the youngest of our family, the only boy, so finding a suitable woman for him to marry would be a momentous task. He didn’t have a particular girl in mind, he told us, but felt that he was ready for the commitment and eager to start his own family. I suppose my getting pregnant and having a baby had something to do with that. He realized he was now the only sibling without a child, and I had seen the longing in his eyes when he held my son and twirled him around the room. He was no longer content to be merely an uncle. He wanted to be a daddy.

“Well, daddies have to be husbands first”, my mother told him when he broached the subject. “It will take some time to find the right match for you. She has to be pious, smart, and, well, just right. I’ll know her when I meet her.” With this pronouncement, the search was on. Initially, my mother closeted herself with my father, who spent hours on the musallah praying to Allah to help him find a bride for his beloved son. Then she burned up the phone lines calling his and her brothers and sisters, distant cousins and old friends. Girls were suggested and introductions made.

Rapid-fire questions narrowed down the field. Does she wear hijaab? Does she pray? Can she cook? Where did she go to school? No question was too minor and many “candidates” were eliminated because of seemingly trivial faults. This one didn’t eat meat, that one listened to pop music. Those who made it through the initial phase were subjected to close physical scrutiny. Hair, nails, teeth and eyes were surreptitiously examined. I half expected her to ask the girls to crack nuts with their teeth and do pushups. She was always polite but very serious. This was, after all, the woman who would inshAllah help to carry on the family name.

Finally, after three months of calls, meetings, and many fervent du’as, my mother met the family of one lady who really seemed to stand out from the crowd. She was a raven-haired beauty with luscious golden skin, but the beauty was modestly hidden beneath a large khimar, which she wore comfortably instead of the more stylish, smaller hijaab favored by so many women. Her father was a doctor from Port Said, but the family had relocated to Cairo several years ago so his children could study at al-Azhar University. She could recite beautifully much of the Qur’an from memory but was becomingly shy and reticent to put herself in the spotlight. She cooked well enough to keep a man from starving, her father had jokingly said, and she seemed physically fit, not a tiny waif of a girl, but womanly shaped. I had met her at their home when my brother went to see her for the first time, and she had an engaging wit and confident manner about her that put me at ease. She fussed over my son, which of course put me on her side immediately, and acted as hostess with practiced grace. During the visit Bashir and she were allowed to go for a walk in the park around the corner, out of earshot but not eyesight so they could get to know one another with some modicum of privacy. We all trailed behind like a Greek chorus, trying to interpret miniscule changes in body language as they walked along. Their conversation was animated and friendly, and by the time we had all returned to the house, it seemed as though a decision had been reached. They would continue to see one another, in the presence of a chaperone, of course, and continue to talk. Nothing had been decided about marriage at this point, my brother being a careful man, but we sensed the possibility and were quietly hopeful.

Bashir had been seeing Bousaina now for about three months, and he had just about satisfied himself on all points that she would be the right match for him. They had both prayed salat al-istakhara and talked to an Imam for religious guidance, and it seemed that any day now we would have happy news. In anticipation of that my mother had one final test for this girl who might be joining our family. It involved a seemingly innocent piece of fruit, and it could well be the deciding factor in the match. So, as we prepared the food and arranged the house, we were happy but a little scared, too. So much was depending on this night.

The afternoon passed and the melodic clangor of the Adhan announced the arrival of the maghrib prayer. My father and brother were already at the mashed around the corner, and we put the finishing touches on the dinner tables and took our turns making wade. My mother led the salah for us and in the first two raka’as recited from Surah an-Nisa, and in the sujood she remained a long time, supplicating to Allah and seeking His blessing. Afterward we made dhikr and waited with great anticipation. I nursed my son and rocked him back and forth in my lap, making my own du’a that he’d have a new aunt soon. The house phone rang and my mother calmly reached for it. It was Papa and Bashir returning from the masjid, and Bousaina’s family was just arriving as well. It took two trips in the elevator to bring everyone up, Bousaina, her parents, and her two sisters and one brother as well. We were quite the crowd in the living room as everyone got sorted out.

Ours was a large, old-fashioned apartment with plenty of room to separately entertain men and women, so it was easy to make a place for us to be comfortable away from the eyes of non-mahram men. After helping our cook serve the men we retired to the women’s parlor and relaxed our hijaab, serving ourselves from the heavily laden platters on the side table. Mama noted Bousaina’s hearty appetite with approval. She didn’t like picky eaters. My sister Zainab held Aadam so I could eat without fear of dripping sauce on him, and I was comfortably full by the time Mama brought out the mangoes she had stored under her bed for the last few days. We had all known they were there, but fear of a smack on the hand, or worse, had kept us from poaching. The fragrant perfume of the fruit had filled her room, a constant reminder of the test that was now at hand.

Bousaina was unaware of the nature of the test, but we all waited with eager anticipation, trying to appear no more than ordinarily interested in the contents of the big green bowl before us. Mama set two of the heavy fruits on a plate and passed it to Bousaina, along with a small knife. Bousaina’s eyes lit up in appreciation.

“These are beautiful. You must have found the ripest mangoes in all of Cairo. And I really love this variety. It reminds me of going to the park with my father when I was a little girl. We’d gather up stones from the street and try to knock the fruit from the trees. I’d race my brothers to get to the ones that fell. Not very ladylike, I suppose, but when it comes to mangoes, I have a very competitive streak,” she said with a laugh. We all relaxed. She liked mangoes! We exchanged glances and then all eyes focused on Bousaina as she picked up the first one. She quickly drew the blade of the knife around the middle of the fruit, slicing in a circle across the width. Then she placed the knife on the plate and took the mango in both hands, deftly twisting the two halves in opposite directions. They separated neatly, one half coming away with the pit, the other resembling a small bowl with the luscious fruit clinging to the inside. She laid down the heavier half and then began to scoop out the flesh of the other with a small spoon Mama handed her. Totally unselfconsciously she dug into the fruit, and she let out a small sigh of happiness as she said the basmalah and swallowed the first bite.

“Alhamdulillah, it is wonderful. It’s like a taste of Jannah.” We all laughed, and Zainab handed me back my son and quietly slipped out of the room. Mama handed around the bowl and passed around plates and knives so we could all share in this delicacy. We were just making the first cuts as Zainab walked back in, nodding to Mama before she took her seat again. Bousaina meanwhile had finished the first half of her fruit, and eyeing us with a mischievous gleam in her eye, picked up the other half, indelicately taking the pit between her teeth and twisting to release it from the other section. Naturally, mango juice now decorated her face, dribbled down her chin, and covered her hands. She looked totally happy. Which just increased her shock at what happened next. There came a loud knocking at the door to the room. While the rest of us hastily fixed our hijaabs, Bousaina sat frozen as my brother’s voice boomed into the room.

“Salaam Alaikum. Open up! I want to ask Bousaina to marry me, but I have a right to see her first. I’ve asked her father for permission and I demand my right! Hurry up now, let me in!” Mama went to the door, and the expression on Bousaina’s face turned from shock to dismay. How could she let him see her like this, all covered with sticky mango juice? Her sisters were trying unsuccessfully to muffle their laughter in their scarves, and we all moved out of the way to afford my brother a good, unobstructed look. Mama threw the door open and Bashir strode across the room, stopping in front of his nonplussed bride-to-be. He looked down on her with a stern gaze, hands on hips, one eyebrow raised as if to ask what had happened. Bousaina looked up at him, still holding half a mango in her hand, frozen in place. My brother’s mock frown melted into the most radiant smile I had ever seen as he looked from her to Mama. “See, Ummi, I told you she was the one. She’s more beautiful with mango juice than any girl with tons of cosmetics. I’ll bet she even has the little strings from the fruit between her teeth, and that’s beautiful, too.” We all laughed as, indeed, Bousaina tried in vain to cover the smile that now spread across her face, matching his, showing the rough fibrous threads that always seem to get caught between the teeth. In response to her smile, Bashir threw his head back and let forth a great guffaw. We could hold it in no longer. We all dissolved into peals of laughter, totally losing ourselves in the moment. I laughed until my side hurt, and my son looked up at me quizzically. Wiping tears of mirth from my eyes, I hugged him close, whispering in his little ear that everything was fine, promising myself that someday when he was older I would tell him the whole story. All the men meanwhile had filed into the room, and once we had regained our composure, my brother more seriously asked Bousaina and her father for permission to marry her. Consent was joyfully given, and we passed the evening saying mabruk and making du’as that Allah would bless them and bring them much joy. That they were well matched, we had no doubt. Mama’s test had seen to that.

So, a month later my brother and Bousaina were married in my parents’ home. When the Sheikh asked about the dowry, it was no surprise to any of us that it included a grove of mango trees from the family land. And if people wondered why we all called the beautiful little girl they were blessed with a year later “little mango”, well, we would just smile and say it was a family joke.

source: http://www.halalove.org/A_Mango_for_a_Bride.html

Dr Lola's comments: the story's beautiful but i have a teeny weeny problem with the fact that the guy took a look at the girl without her hijab. Islam allows a man to see of the future bride only what is normally shown. Hmm, maybe it's different for other cultures and races... or may be i misunderstand the meaning of 'relaxing the hijab'?

Awla, the Indian Goose Berry

Latin: Emblica Officinalis Gaertn.
Family: Euphorbiaceae
Vernacular names: Sanskrit - Amalaki; Hindi - Awla; English - Emblic Myrobalan;
Part Used: Dried fruit, ripe fruit, seed, leaves, root, bark, flowers.
Season: October to January

Awla (Indian Goose Berry), a medium to large sized deciduous tree with small leaves, is scientifically known as Emblica Officinalis is one of the precious gifts of nature to mankind. It is probably the richest known source of Vitamin C. The fruit pulp contains as much as 600 mg. of vitamin per 100 gm., nearly twenty times as much as in orange juice. The fruit is nearly spherical or globular, slightly broader than long, and with small, shallow, conical depressions at either end of its longitudinal axis, especially at the place of attachment of the stalk. Normally the fruit is 18 to 25 mm wide at the middle and 15 to 20 mm along the longitudinal axis.
Awla is indigenous to India. It has been used as a valuable ingredient of various medicines in India and the Middle East from time immemorial.
The tree is cultivated very widely in India; in fact it is being done at very large scale in some states of the country.

Principle constituents :
Awla is highly nutritious and is an important dietary source of Vitamin C, minerals and amino acids. The edible fruit tissue contains protein concentration 3-fold and ascorbic acid concentration 160-fold compared to that of the apple. The fruit also contains considerably higher concentration of most minerals and amino acids

Nutritive value :
(per 100 gms of AWLA)

Protein 500 mg
Energy 58 kilo calories
Vitamin - A 151 Int. units
Carotene 9 micro grams
Vitamin - C 600 mg
Calcium 50 mg
Iron 1.2 mg
Phosphorus 20 mg
Fibre 3.4 gms

Clinical Research:
It is a rich source of vitamin ‘C’ which gets assimilated in the human system easily and quickly and is as such utilized for treating scrubby, pulmonary tuberculosis. The fruit contains up to 720 mg/100g of fresh pulp and 921 mg/100cc of pressed juice. This is approximately 20 times the vitamin C content of an orange. Awalaki fruit has, in fact, been used successfully to treat human scurvy. It is also effective in the treatment of awlapitta (peptic ulcer), as well as in non-ulcer dyspepsia.

Traditional Usages:
It is an ingredient in several important medicinal preparations including Triphala ("three fruits"), a laxative and carminative, and the famous Chyawanaprash, a general tonic for people of all ages, which improves mental and physical well being. The fruit is commonly used in the treatment of burning sensation anywhere in the body, anorexia, constipation, urinary discharges, inflammatory bowels, cough, hemorrhoids, fever, thirst, and toxicity of the blood. The juice of the fresh bark mixed with honey and turmeric is given in gonorrhea. Acute bacillary dysentery may be treated with syrup of amalaki and lemon juice.

Products of Awla are:
1. Awla Pulp (Wet)
2. Awla Pulp (Dried)
3. Awla Powder
4. Awla Pishty
5. Awla Juice
6. Awla Candy
7. Awla Churan
8. Awla Murabba (amla preserve)

AWLA PULP
Awla Pulp is used in the preparation of chutneys, jams, pickles etc. Due to it’s varied and important medicinal uses it has found an indispensable place the famous Ayurvedic restorative tonic called “CHYAWANPRASH”
The acidity of awla pulp is 3.28 % on pulp basis.

AWLA PISHTY
It is one of our major products which is also an important constituent CHYAWANPRASH – the famous Ayurvedic formulations used for general well being.

Most of the companies in India, engaged in the production of CHYAWANPRASH, use the awla pulp manufactured by our company, as one of the basic ingredients, which gives us a reason to boast of as “BEING THE PIONEERS IN FIELD OF AWLA PROCESSING”

AWLA POWDER
Awla Powder is the main source of vitamin 'C'. It accomplishes the deficiency of folic acid + Iron + Vit. B12 + Vit. C+ glucose in body which gives relief from physical and mentally tiredness to body from daily activities. Awla Powder improves the immunity and gives physical strength. It purifies the blood & controls cholesterol.
Awla Powder is well suited for silky and long hair in all seasons. It gives relief from diseases like acidity, dysentery, indigestion, mouth infection, blackheads, pimples and under eye dark circles etc. Eat Awla Powder and live long and healthy life.

AWLA JUICE
Awla juice if taken as a daily dietary supplement, is helpful in the proper functioning of the digestive system. Awla juice has 10 times more Vitamin C as compared to the Vitamin C content found in the equal quantities of orange juice. It is also helpful in reducing chromosomal abnormalities, reduction of cholesterol level in blood serumIt is given to patients suffering form Diabetes and cardiac diseases. It acts as a laxative, astringent and possesses cooling effect.

AWLA MURABBA
Awla Murabba is the appetizing way to Good health. As Awla is rich in Vitamin C , it helps in controlling and curing disorders like rheumatism, chronic fever, respiratory, digestive, reproductive and stress related problems. Awla also acts as an anti-oxidant that helps in purifying the blood and getting rid of free radicals, thus defying aging and increasing beauty.
Prepared with the traditional recipes and choosing the best Awla and natural preservatives, Awla Murabba can be taken with your daily meal. This is a unique way to combine health with taste.

AWLA CANDY
As awla has high content of Vitamin ‘C’ which is known for it’s diuretic and laxative properties, as well as curing acidity, cough fattiness etc. it is thus available in the from of candy that is liked by all old and young. You get all the properties of Awla in Awla Candy. Awla is also rich in pectin so it is beneficial to consume Awla in this form for hair since it flows through blood and transported directly to hair root.
It can be given to children so that they get benefits of awla properties. It also helps in digestion and in improving eyesight and thus you get the complete advantage of awla, with the taste of candy.

taken from http://freezozone.com/prod_amla.htm

(Dr Lola thinks someone is way too obsessed with her name...hehe)

Jottings of a former medical student

Working on The Catalyst does have its advantages. I get to read some of people's lovely articles and contributions firsthand. One of them which i find absolutely inspiring is from a former medical student here who attained many distinctions during her clinical postings. For every posting, it was either her or her husband, who was the former president of the Medical students' Society. They were the model couple. So here's some of her advice...


Looking back, 7 years didn’t seem so long. Sure, the first couple of years seemed to last an eternity, the next couple dragged on at snail’s pace but honestly the last three were more akin to a runaway train. One fateful Saturday morning, it was all over. Probably the most important question is not, how many years were spent in learning medicine but how these years were spent. The same seven years can be a holiday, jail sentence or enriching experience.Thankfully, most of mine were the latter (although with pinches of the former two for flavour). Any words of wisdom? Those bright eyed and bushytailed juniors I leave behind constantly ask. In fact,yes, there are many things this former medical student would like to share. However, all are forewarned, the following are not pearls of wisdom, merely lessons and experiences of one who has recently trodden the path …and survived.

Trust in God

Many a time, the end may not seem to be in sight. The challenges may seem too great, the hurdles too high.Though I was blessed never to have tasted true failure, the constant pressure of excelling also tookits toll. During those times, when no friendly voice could console me, I found solace in faith. For I am a firm believer, that Allah never forsakes His servant, never burdens them with something they cannot bear and created each one different with their own potential and flaws.

Respect knowledge and those who impart it

Always respect your lecturers, regardless of your personal opinion of them. Irrespective of their teaching methods, ability to captivate or serenade the audience, seemingly obvious favouritism (which more often than not are pure figments of the imagination), treat these people with respect. Their sole responsibility is to ensure that our tympanic membrane vibrated with whatever fact imparted. The rest, my friends, is wholly up to us. So, never blame a lecturer’s monotone for your lack of understanding, blame yourself for not pursuing enlightenment. Always identify early what you don’t know and quickly rectify the situation. For it is invariably true that only a fool knows not what he knows not.

Don’t stand in the sidelines… participate

Laments and sighs have reached my ears as to how dull life is for a medical student. There are sad group ofpeople who frequently complain that there is never anything to do except study and worse still claim that all activities in this university are the sole rightsof a privileged few. To them I say, they spend their days with blinkers, like cart horses with tunnel vision. There is always an activity or event brewing in the cauldron, a committee that desperately needs manpower, and there are never enough volunteers for anything! Thus, leaving the responsibility of making these events a success upon the shoulders of those whonever seem to be able to walk away from a task. I’ve learned that heroes are the people who do what has tobe done when it needs to be done and still manage to get on with the rest of their lives. Life is a lotl ess dull when you are actively involved in your surroundings. It also provides an opportunity for you to give instead of always receiving. An only by beingan active part of such committees and events will you learn the importance of teamwork, communication, time management and how not to crack under pressure.Things, they never write in textbooks.

Exams are not the enemy

Everybody hates exams, well, even those who don’t would not want to have one each day. But the fact of life remains, exams exist and students have to face them. The difference between each student taking an exam is how prepared they are, the results they achieve and what to do after the exam. Truth be told, medical students probably have some of the toughest exams ever invented. I think its right up there with exams for those nuclear physicists and other such impossible sounding jobs. The trick is, to study constantly. Disappointed? I’m afraid there is no magic formula. But I do believe that many people have a very narrow perception of what studying constantly actually is. Images of studious noses buried deep in the gloomy pages of thick medical textbooks may pop into mind, but that is not my definition. Every single lecture,tutorial, lab, class, discussion, seminar, casepresentation, CPC, minute spent in the ward, OT,clinic is precious. Live telecast, no instant replay.Therefore every scrap and fragment of knowledge thataccidentally or purposely floats under your nose orbites you on the behind, grab it and store itimmediately. It may seem impossible to be completely awake and aware of your surroundings 100% of the timebut even for the times that you may not be quite all there, attendance is always better than truancy. Imean that’s how they invented the term “passive diffusion” right? Don’t go through medical school being anonymous, the student the lecturers have never seen. Ask questions in class, outside class, before class, after class and even when there is no class. Never force yourself to be somebody you are not. Some people have no need of books, others read the same page 12 times before understanding the exact same thing. Remember, Allah is fair and He created us all different but equal. What is most important is torecognize early which type of person you are, so youcan stop worrying about how other people study and get on with the actual studying. This may take some trial and error but don’t give up, you’ll find out what works best for you, eventually. It took me 2 months to realize I cannot study between Asar and Maghrib, from10pm to midnight (but I managed to overcome this weakness over time) or between 4am and Subuh. So I didn’t study during those times. The only problem is everything changes once you step into clinical years.No big deal, just read and get on with life. And when it comes time for the exam, have faith inAllah and trust yourself. The most comforting thingthat I always remember during exam is that they will never ask you something that you don’t know or have never come across. All your previous hard work is just to make sure that you forget as little as possible. MCQs are your friend. I love MCQs because I don’t even have to think of the answers myself, I just have to decide if the statement is true or the lecturers are pulling my leg. Short notes are your friend. You don’t even have to worry about punctuation, just list down systematically all the facts you have already assimilated into your system. Essays are your friend. It gives you a chance to write down and show your lecturers how much you know. Just make sure yourhandwriting is neat and legible. Headings are good, spacing is important (just in case you want to add that something extra that you forgot the first time) and always pace yourself so that you divide your time appropriately. PBQs and PMPs are your friend. All the clues are there. Trust your judgement, explain your answers so that the lecturer understands. Never assume that the lecturer knows you know, prove it by writing it down. OSCEs and OSPEs are bonuses. Don’t panic, all will be well. Clinical exam. This is the time to show the examiner exactly who you are and what you’re made of. Sure, I get dinosaurs in my stomach every time I wait outside to start, but nothing beats the adrenaline rush once it all begins. The long case isyour opportunity to score because it is always the same; history, physical examination, investigations and management. Do your best to be thorough and manage your time well. This comes with practice and lots of time well spent in the wards and clinics with patients. And always present with confidence. Do not be afraid of questions, in fact anticipate them andanswer even before they are asked (this also comes with practice). Short cases, one word. Practice. And once you’re finished doing that, go back and practice some more.

Finally, I hope that all of you have as wonderful and fulfilling time in this place that I have called home for the past 7 years as I have had. See you on the other side, InsyaAllah. The view is much better from here.

Kak Hidayah

disoriented

boy am i disoriented and confused this morning. am suffering the after effects of an ill-prepared minitest. what made me think i could have done it in the first place. i am such a twit. suke hati je nak pergi scientific meeting just before the minitest. i figured i could prepare in time. boy, was i deceiving myself. must have a reality check.

am also suffering from a throbbing lack-of-sleep headache. these past few days i've been nodding off in the middle of talks and lectures no matter how interesting they were, let alone the boring ones.

the one thing that i really gained from the PPIM scientfic meeting was my weight. hehe, the buffets were absolutely heavenly... huh, tamak sangat, tak habis pun makan. i did get some insight into the doctoring world though it was a wee bit early for me... early exposure is good ape... the speakers were bukan calang2 orang Dr Har, Dr Musa, Dr Latif, Dr Asri, Prof Mohayah, hospital directors and kementerian people... best jugak lah the ones that i managed to hear between my naps...

ok... back to class...