Demo here demo there....
I'm just starting to wonder why of late our Malaysian activist have been so fond of taking to the streets and having demonstrations. If you have been following what has been happening in our beloved Bolehland recently, you will have know that there were 2 major demonstrations in the city centre over the weekend in this past one month. Just google the words BERSIH and HINDRAF and you will get all sorts of news...
The first one was organised by this bunch of people, mainly from the Malay opposition party, who wanted to hand over a petition to our beloved Yang Di-Pertuan Agung, requesting that he make sure our next General Elections be clean... and BERSIH, hence the name. There were rumours that the gathering amounted to almost 40 thousand people. But throughout the entire weekend there were road blocks practically everywhere leading into the city, leaving us innocent peace loving people stuck in hours of traffic. The Federal Reserve Unit were brought in with their helmets, shields, tear gas and water canons and arrest and chased away as many of the protestors as possible.
The second one, just last week were organised by this group calling thenselves Hindraf; supposed to be championing indian rights in Malaysia. Now here's the scoop; officially (if the government controlled press is all you read) Hindraf wanted to send a memorandum to the British Embassy, requesting a Queen's Council to oversee them file a lawsuit against the British government. Basically, in a class action suit, they want to sue the british for forcibly bringing all the indians from India to Malaysia as labourer, hence violation their human rights. They are suing for US$1 million per indian, or US$1 trillion in total. (i can see you shaking your head right now). But read BBC and other news and they will say that was only the 'ostensible' reason; implying that there is a deeper, unspoken reason. Come one, the whole idea of it is outrageous. How will the Queen of England consent to appointing a council on behalf of the Indians in Malaysia to sue her own government for almost 2 trillion British Pounds? The 3 leaders of the group are lawyers and they were not stupid, and as we like to say here in Malaysia, its all just 'buat wayang saje'. The entire nation continues to talk about it, and if you ask any Indian in the know, they will tell you that what they were trying to do was to highlight to the world the injustice the local minority Indians are suffering due to the favouratism of the government to Bumiputra's. They say they are being marginalised; left out in education, job opportunity, economic development and rights as a citizen. Of course, the Chinese face these same questions too. but the Indians have it much worse, since economically, they are not strong. To said it as it is, in many ways, those of us who do not enjoy Bumiputra status are Second Class Citizens.
The organisers insisted that their gathering was to be peaceful. All they really wanted to do was to hand over a memorandum to the British embassy in jalan ampang. But if you ask me, the government digged themselves into a hole, made a mountain of a mole hill and attracted all the wrong sorts of international attention. 2 days before the assembly, they arrested the 3 leaders, charging them with uttering 'insidious' words that will evoke racial disharmony. Come the day of the demonstration, over 200 people were arrested and the thousands of indians gathering around Jalan Ampang were confronted with batons, tear gas and water canons. When the leaders were brought to court, they judge could find no reason to hold the chargers since the government failed to produce and evidence to back up their allegation against these men. How big can you screw up anyway?
First, you arrest the leader and created a furore for half the indian community in Malaysia, then you drag them to court only to fail to provide any transcript of the insidious words they allegedly made. The court needing proof to prosecute, could not hold them. But you dont need proof to have an opinion, and by now all the nation will have some sort of impression and judgement against these group of activist, whether fair or otherwise. Now, some Malays are going to think these Hindraf people are trouble makers trying to stir up racial issues. Many Indians are going to feel that the government is doing all they can to shut them up and prevent them from fighting for fairness and equality. The Chinese will just shake their head and migrate abroad the minute something goes wrong in Malaysia. Lines have been drawn and the damage is done, though who is the bigger looser remains unknown.
Secondly, what is with the excessive show of force by the government? About BERSIH, they wanted to have over a petition to the King. As unhappy as they were with the government, they respected the King enough to go to him for arbitration. If the government is so clean and good, just let them hand over the petition I say. Its just a piece of document for goodness sake. Same goes for HINDRAF. If these 3 guys think the Queen of England will back them in their trillion dollar lawsuit against herself, let them hand in the memorandum to the British Council then! It is just a piece of document! Let her read it, and have a good laugh by all means. But nooo. the government had to deploy the FRU, all geared up and ready to handle some sort of riot. I was in Singapore watching the news as it happened, and if I didnt know better, I would think Malaysia is in pieces now. What kind of impression are we giving others? Barely a month after proudly sending our first 'Angkasawan' up to space, touting that we are taking our first steps to being a modern first world country, we find ourselves showing the worlds that we have absolutely zero tolerance for opinions that contradict the government. We'd rather arrest hundreds of our people, attack them with batons, tear gas and water canons then to let them have some freedom for expression.
Of course, we can argue that they gathering was illegal since they failed to get a proper permit for gathering. All over the news, they will repeatedly use the words 'illegal gathering'. The front page of The Star said DO NOT BREAK THE LAW... the Law.. But did you know that according to the Law... any public gathering of people above 5 numbers of requires a permit? That means that strictly speaking, when I go out with my mates and buddies in a group and meet at Dataran Merdeka, we need a police permit, otherwise its an illegal gathering. Puts in in different light doesn't it? Selective enforcement of the law amounts to manipulation by the government and that piece of legislation sounds more for the convenience and benefit of those in power to call anything they do not approve to be illegal.
The landscape is changing, and policies and privileges formed 40 years ago are starting to become inadequate in dealing with our new generation of Malaysians. No one has an answer as to what is the best route to take.. what stand to take in our multicultural society. How long more will the Malays cling on to their Bumi privilages? How long will the rest tolerate, and if so to what extent? If economic standing is the issue, does poverty not cut across all races and ethnicity? For us non-bumi's who grew up here and call this place our home, how can we be convince that we are not second class citizens? To continue accepting the status quo would preserve the peace for now.
But not doing anything about it does not make the problem go away. We are going to have to deal with these issues one day....
If only my sons cared......
"It would be nice to know my sons cared that I will be operated on today"
........said the text message.
If my father's intention was trying to make me feel guilty, I think he succeeded. The message implied that we didnt care/didnt know that his operation was today.. which was true to a certain extent. I knew it was sometime the end of the month.. I just forgot the exact date.
Its hard to keep track when you are working your butt off even on a saturday and sunday, which is precisely what I have been doing the past 2 months.... the fact that I was smack in the middle of a construction site in Jurong Island Singapore didnt help either. Strictly speaking, I wasnt even allowed to carry in my phone, I couldnt call out since i didnt turn on my roaming feature, and my battery was almost dead.
I tried calling him lunch time.. but I couldnt get through.. maybe he was already in the OT.
Since my father moved down to Johor, we have had very little contact with him. He would ask my brother and I to keep in touch with him.. but I guess we have been so busy with our own lives.... we just never find the time. Ya, we are guilty in that sense. But it was his choice to move down south, away from his wicked wife... he rather suffer away from that woman than to have to live with her.
Anyway, I'm not trying to make excuses for forgetting the date. In my defense, the operation was not some crucial procedure. It was a pretty minor procedure... to be exact, it was to remove the cataract from his eyes, and these operations are generally safe! There's no life on the line here.
I do realise that ultimately, he just wants to know that someone out there cares about what happens to him, and that if something did happen to him, someone would know........ I know he gets lonely sometimes.. Some days, in the middle of my working day he would call and start talking... feeling compelled to give me all sorts of fatherly advice again... all while I sit at my desk trying to do my work. He asked if I was busy with work... and I answered yes... but for some reason he just continued talking. I listened as best I could.. but after 15 minutes on the phone, feeling that chatting any longer during office hours would be inappropriate, I cut him off and said I had to go.... and that was the last I heard for him until the message this morning.
As I write this, there is remains a heavy dose of guilt I have not been able to swallow just yet. We forgot about his operation, minor as it was, and he had to go at it alone... and that is as plain as it is.
How are you supposed to make amends for such an offense anyway?
Smile for the Camera
I was just looking through my photos on my computer today. For some reason, as tired as I was, as much as I wanted to just jump into bed and catch the z's, I found myself starting for hours in front of my computer, looking at ALL my photos; almost 4 years worth of memories, captured in video and photo. I must say, it is and always will be a nostalgic visit, going through your stash of photograph. I noticed how in my 4 months in the UK, the period of time could be told simply by just looking at the length of my hair! When we just arrived, we were all looking like GI's straight out of the army with our crew cut hair. By the time we boarded the plane home to Malaysia, we were more John Lennon and Jimmy Hendrix than anything else, hair falling messily down our foreheads and ears half covered.
The photograph you see is of the day my friends and I went with the bunch of church people to hike around the Peak District, just behind Sheffield. Like I said earlier, at the time it felt like the most magical and wonderful day of my life thus far. At the end of the day, I considered the photos of the breath taking scenery to be the most prized photos. It was my first experience of the English country side, of totally fresh and clean air... But as I looked through the photos again, I realised something; I didn't know it then, but in the following 3 months after that photo was taken, I would get to know at least half of the people in there rather well. I never thought twice when I first saw that photo. But now that I see it again with different eyes, I realise just how unexpected life can be sometimes. 3 persons there I would eventually sing with in front of a crowd for the first time. Later, I would spend my final 2 weeks at Sheffield at the house of another 4. 1 would end up becoming the coolest scottish guy I know there (no need to guess which one eh?) and one more would become such a dear friend to me, I'd laugh at you if you suggested to me at the time this photo was taken.
I sat and looked the the faces, the smiles, the expressions, the pose, the background, the shirt each of us were wearing at the time, and suddenly I am transported back in time. Looking at the photos suddenly makes you remember not only on the details of it all, but the feel if it as well. I remembered how I felt the time time. I remembered the sound of laugher from friends, the way they would behave; of being exasperated, amused, entertained, excited, nervous, inspired, somber, hopeful, faithful and mostly cheerful. Watching the videos were just worse. To not only see, but also hear your own voice, and that of those that were there with you literally transport you back in time. Every silly gesture, every lame joke, every playful remark, all captured on video. At the time, though I knew these videos and photos were there, I didnt want to look at it. It felt a bit too embarrassing and recent for me to watch it without cringing.
This time around, I plucked up the courage and dared myself to watch those silly videos and stupid pictures again, alone of course... 
and though it still felt incredibly embarrassing to watch it, this time, it was with a big hint of nostalgia. Its amazing that something as simple as a persons voice is enough to make you miss them. Hearing my friends talking in front of the camera, I suddenly miss them more that I know how to express. Not that they are lost to me, only that we are no longer on the same journey together. I wished I had more videos of other dear friends who have either gone abroad or moved on in life. I know I would miss them more if I had their photos and videos, and yet a part always longs to hear it again, to relive the moment, even if it is just in the mind. I laughed alone in the living room, I covered my face with the pillow (which I will deny if you ever ask me), shook my head left to right and and made tsk tsk tsk... sounds to myself... all just by looking at the smiling faces of people I came to become so fond of, and hearing their recorded voices and actions.
It was then that I realised; the most beautiful photos I took in these 4 months was not the Eiffel Tower, its french villages, Paris city, London, Sheffield, or any part of England for the matter. Not even the breathtaking scenery at the Peak District Sheffield. Can you guess it by now? It was the smiling faces of the people that made my stay special. Because though when the photo was taken we were all really just smiling for the camera, 4 months and a mountain of nostalgia later, you see not a picture of someone smiling for the camera, but someone smiling at you.
Fight on auntie!
When you grow up, your elders always seem larger than life. My father used to be the most knowledgeable person I knew. My mother used to be the most wonderful cook I knew. Maybe it was because she was the only cook I knew, but till today, only she knows how to cook dishes exactly the way I first tasted them as a kid, and it makes me all young and kiddy again.
After my father took us away from my mother, I stayed for almost 2 years with my aunt. She was my father’s eldest sister, and in my eyes, she was the fiercest, scariest person you could probably be under the care of. She ruled the house with an iron fist. We followed a strict regime of waking up at exactly 630am, to eat whatever breakfast she provided, to come home at 2pm, eat breakfast, take an afternoon nap (whether you like it or not), homework, TV, dinner, the off to bed). One look from her would be enough to strike fear into my cousins and I. In fear of the cane, we obeyed her at all cost, and when we did defy her, we did the best a 10 year old possible could do to cover his dirty tracks (which is not much by the way).
I moved away when I was 11 to stay with my father, who was more liberal and extremely lax in enforcing his house rules. After that, the only times I saw my aunt was during visits and Chinese new year. She seemed less and less intimidating as the years went by, maybe due to her aging, or that we were growing more into adults. It came to such a point where she no longer strike fear into me whenever I saw her.
I could see as the years go by that she was aging. Her temper has mellowed down significantly, and whenever I visited, she greeted us with friendliness; no longer shouting at us to wash our feet or stop talking while eating. I started to wonder just where had that fierce auntie of mine gone, the one that would strike fear into us with a mere look? What happened in between? It’s not like I was complaining, just curious that’s all. Living with the her of today would have been less an ordeal than it was when she was her old self.
But just last week, I discovered something. She had got the cancer. I was shocked. Cancer? You hear about these things all the time.. I mean ALL the time… some friends relative, some neighbour, some celebrity… but always to others.. to suddenly discover that someone in my own family had got the cancer really hit home for me. Worst of all, it was the auntie I grew up thinking was invincible, infallible and fierce. I have not had the chance to visit her, though when I do, I don’t even know what to say. What can I say? I’m sorry? The colon cancer is only first stage and she is receiving treatment… and I hope it goes well, but never the less… it’s a blow to our family. To have a family member with cancer is to mean you may be prone to it too.
Not well educated, will she be able to fully grasps the extent of her illness? Will she be able to learn all the can to fight back? Will she fight back? Surely she would, that fiery aunt of mine… but that was the old her. And for once, I wished that she was her former fighting and fearsome self again…
