Kautsar Abd Rahman

Our first day was filled with a lush awe for the beauty that Edinburgh lavish out to her people. Pebble-stone roads, buildings with that charming old historical facade that line the whole stretch of Royal Mile and thin, crooked, dark and sinister sharp towers stabbing the white sky.

Snow fell heavily when we first stepped there, and dragging a dead weight of a luggage on wheel through the thick snow and icy roads IS SO NOT FUN! It’s like walking a terribly heavy dog that bumps into your back and make you lose your balance on ice or a massive burden on wheels.

But the whole city was beautiful. The snow that fell was those soft, powdery ones unlike the pelts of wet puff snow that falls in London. The dusty nature make pretty walkway as the snow shyly thin out at the edgs like sugar dusting on a pie.And speaking of baking metaphor, Mek dropped a case of eggs while running on ice with her heavy grocery bags.

HAHAHAHAAHHAAH.

The image of her panicking and running to cross the road and the case of eggs neatly plopped itself out of the bag into the snowy road in front of old ladies is really funny. She had to go back and picked them up, with the old ladies voicing their concern over her possibly broken eggs.

Will put up pictures. And continue with our first night which is the torch procession.

Ciao. Off to Festival Hall to get our theatre tickets

in the velvet dark of a night, a fox made her path around us, as far as she could, mistrust in her eyes, padding her paws softly and lightly on thick snow. we held our breath and stare at the beautiful creature, a gracious wonder that makes my impulse quicken at this magic encounter. the fast beat of my heart remained long after she was gone.

a suspended bird in its flight, in a static pace, right above your head, is a split second wonder that pulls the time space to only the vertical movement of the beating wings.

Mother nature was pregnant with wonder and decided to blow bits of magic along our happy ways.

Chubby icy particles were falling heavily as Aisyah said her goodbyes at Leicester Square, and I was so excited at the prospect of finally being able to see Trafalgar Square in snow! Feera and I made our way there, nose red as Rudolph and cheeks numb yet still smiling maniacally as if tetanus had stuck our jaw in permanent grin and singing pathetic attempts of ‘Let it snow’ and other Christmas carols – tumbling the words in the lyrics all the way.

It was gorgeous.

The HUGE Christmas tree given by Norway annually was lit up with golden balls, and a stage was set up amidst the snow falling down complete with microphones and spotlights. The famous fountains spurts cold water, while the ponds were half frozen. And the lions were blanketed with pillows of soft whiteness as are the statues on their pedestal. And of course, the National Portrait Gallery dome – all snow covered and beautifully magnificent in its cold winter grandeur.

Snow was piling high, and with a group of carol singers sang most beautifully on the set-stage, we had a snowball fight and built Winston Churchill – our mini snowman on the balcony overlooking the compound of Trafalgar Square. Constructions include froze-bitten fingers, leaking color of my silk scarf from all the wet snow, nicking other people’s finished cup of coffee for Winston’s hat, stirrers for his hand, digging up pennies for his eyes and nose, tearing the red bits of the gallery’s catalog to make do as his scarf – and ultimately, Feera’s effort at picking pistachio shells off the floor to make his grinning mouth and coat buttons. Hands down to Feera!

Ps: Winston Churchill, proved to be as famous as his namesake as people took photos of him. Feera and I lingered around the corner, nodding yes to permission for photos, like proud parents. We hugged him one last goodbye and hoped he won’t be too cold out there.

Winston Churchill

Proud parent Feera

The only deserving place for a great snowman – Trafalgar Square

The last few days as got to be one stride of life that I would never want to forget.

London was hit by snow so heavily in December that, again, as in previous year, London literally stop in its track, unprepared. 50,000 people were stuck in King’s Cross St. Pancras after Eurostar couldn’t handle “the fluffy French snow” that messed up the technical transition of temperature between the Channel and sub-zero temperature outside. Lots of tears, accusation and chaos. Friends were exasperated as more bad news mean flights, trains and holiday plans got cancelled. Would be worse for students, obviously on limited finance, being stuck at their holiday destination, unable to reach home than students who cannot go on holidays. That being said, imagine the money spent on accommodation and the expectation of a good winter break!

It is weird how something as pristine and beautiful as fluffy ice front he sky could cause so much disruption. Cars skid, lorries are not allowed to move and traffic jam like sardines in can. Surprisingly, the bad weather didn’t deter the spirit of consumerism to buy buy BUY in Oxford Street. Shops and food stores across the country have never experienced record sale rise in previous years. The crowd was crazy! Haha, I should know, I was there tugging at size tags hoping to catch the last size 6 or 8 on the clothes rail. The sale is quite good. But I shall wait for boxing day. Winter means full long sleeved dress and shirts – good stuff for me to wear with my tudung in Malaysia.

The third chaos would be our Family Night In two nights ago. The snow is falling down, the living room warm, and the boys came over for a game of Cranium. Imar, Emir, Muhsin, Ozz and Afiq versus me, Feera, Aisyah, Shaz and Hidayah. It was then we knew how competitive Ozz is – he HUMS with such earnest effort, you could die laughing.  And how screwed up Shaz’s perception of horse’s gallop, and how the guys could almost commit suicide for not being able to guess George Best. Or the colour of ‘Button A’ in the old Nintendo console. Geez. The game was a tight one – encore worthy.

It was all like the rush of wind that screams in your ears amidst crystalline beauty of white snow.

I should really blog about Beaux-Art one day – the apartment next door where Sam used to stay and where my brother is staying now. Interior impressive factor aside, the best thing about this building is its roof terraces which give you a vast, 360 degree view of London from the northern perspective! You can make out the skyline of the Egg building, London Eye and even Eiffel Tower very faintly in the distant horizon!!

So, one day in autumn, a very beautiful sunset came upon us and Beda and I ran like mad to the top of Beaux Art to ravish in its glorious beauty, the best place to do so.

A very beautiful portrait of Beda.

The best thing about sunset in England is the fact that it is only for half an hour so you won’t have to brace the chilly dusk for more than that to enjoy it. You can literally see the sun gracefully bid its farewell. And you amaze at the transition of colours – from pale peach and orange to an intense burnt orange with red tinge to a forming of pink and purple, and the enveloping tones of blues that darken to a velvet cinder of the night.

Cloud etching wonders in the sky

And from the aerial view of the roof terrace, you can see houses lighting up, the street lights glowing in rows, and the humdrums of buses and vehicles coming in from Central London, the cat that would prance about the windowsill from the townhouses next to Beaux Art, people coming in and out of the kitchen and the wheel of London Eye twirls in red, blue, purple lights far,far away.

An attempt of Sartorialist.

I love autumn. Maybe because it is now winter, and bitter wind has gotten hold of the aching hollow behind my knee that I miss the soft light of autumn, the golden and red hue, the intense sunset and crisp breeze. I have done much injustice to other seasons of course by favoring Autumn. Autumn is the fresh, new slate of new academic year – it vibrates with positive energy unlike the dragged heaviness of winter that ends an academic term or the rainy panic of Spring. Summer also has bright disposition to it thanks to naturally, the Sun; and the lift of heavy burden of exam from your shoulder.

Oh Winter, thou hast thou own beauty, I shall discover and whisper them to my heart. And the same love shall be given to Spring

Ah, the social went alright. Setting was perfect –  a private room in a pub, where it was all wood, rustic and warmth.

The Setting.

There were 15 of us there, a small cozy company, all finding cash machine to get some loose change to donate for our fundraising charity. A very willing group – nice! Although it was still hard to convince them to donate bits for a portrait shot of themselves by me. Sigh. And in the end,I was just happily snapping away pictures for free! There goes my fundraising cash!

Miza decided to abandon the social part of a social party and launch herself into a full mode writing machine. She sat herself at the greeting cards table and wrote A LOT of cards to people around the world who are in prison under political capture or for standing up for their rights.

Miza’s greeting cards.

Basically, Jess, the president, got a map showing the people whom you can write to and brought a newsletter that has all their stories in it. I have written 2 general, inspiring ones while Miza poured her heart out to each letter she wrote! Whatever makes a party for you, Miza.

*coughcough as if there was anything else to do coughcough*

But there were other things going on other than writing cards! There was a henna table, cake sale and a face-painting table – which was rather funny as no one would really want a butterfly or a tiger on their face at this time of the year! Such a waste of talented artist and pretty pots of coloured paints! So, we made the artist paint hands and wrists. And Raivi got her to paint behind his ear. Nothing crazy or anything, but it was good fun

Well, it’s already 10th of December now, so, Happy Universal Human Rights Day, people!  :)

Visit amnesty website and check out the page where you can get info on writing greeting cards to victims or appeal letters to the authorities in any course of action you are interested in or just pick one at random and give a loving support of inspiration.

When you’re cooped up in prison, the word of strangers from the world outside means a million.

www.amnesty.org.uk

What you get when you mix black and red henna.