Forthnights

MY NEW BLOG

2009-07-30T16:36:00.002+08:00

Dear reader,

This blog has had it's final posting. It was fun while it lasted, and for what its' worth, I think I had a good run with this little blog...348 posts in 5 years.... not too bad for a pet project. But as I've moved on to another site, and its finally set up. Future posts will be at my new blog below:

http://ifimbeinghonest.blogspot.com/

See you there!

Cheers!

Chapter Closed

2009-07-25T23:54:00.003+08:00

It’s with mix feelings that I tell you this. I’m closing the curtain on this blog.

It’s been 5 years since I posted my first blog here. Let me just say that when I wrote my first post, I had no idea that I would have continued doing it for the next 5 years. I started this blog because I felt that I needed an outlet to express myself; my thoughts, my opinions, but mostly, my feelings. I knew that I had a love affair with words; I enjoy expressing myself through writing more than anything else, and that was really something I didn’t know how to share with the people around me since I couldn’t freely say the things I wanted about everything and everyone around me if I was expecting them to read it at the same time. Thus, the idea of writing a blog, anonymously came so naturally to me. The idea forthnights came because I THOUGHT I would write every 2 week once… but that turned out to be misleading (sometimes months on with no post and sometimes 3 post in a week)… and the address greatcowsense came because …well… my dad said I had a lot of ‘cowsense’… whatever THAT meant. Haha…

I have always been one to shy away from attention. Unlike some go to great lengths to promote their blog, I have never felt 100% comfortable with the idea of people reading the things I was about to write, mainly because many of the things I knew I would be writing about were immensely personal. I never back linked my blog to other blogs (even though there are some I follow faithfully) because to me, this was my personal space. If someone read it, liked it and identified with it, you flatter me. I would feel honoured that my writings actually deserved a bookmark! Why any stranger would find my life worth knowing about remains to be answered. But this was never to gain more page loads or popularity. This was not a community / social blog; this was my personal chronicle of my life and my emotions.

As I read back on my own thoughts, my memories are refreshed and evoked; of times when things were so rough I never thought I would ever get through it, of memories so sweat and dear I could almost feel the emotions again just by reading my own lines. To that extent, this blog has served its purpose. I have half a decade worth of thoughts and emotions nicely written down like a diary. You will know that so many of my postings were about my family, my loved ones, my childhood memories and my mother; these are a self generated proof to me of where my heart lies.

When I first started, I was a 19 year old college boy trying to pick up the pieces of a home shattered into a million pieces caused by infidelity, depression, mental illness and mistakes of the previous generation. I was totally reliance on others financially, I had no direction in life except to get through day by day, and the biggest worry I had was just my education. Today, I’m on the verge of my 24th birthday (next week 29th); I am now a working adult, a step away from starting a family of my own; no longer the victim and sufferer of my family’s past, but care giver and protector of what’s left of that family and the new one I hope to build. I am today financially independent, I support my parents and care for my mother, and the biggest worry I have is how to afford getting married! It’s amazing what a short 5 years can change. What happens this next 5 years I leave in the hands of God Almighty.

I like to think of this as a new chapter I am living now; and just like how one chapter is built based on the previous, so it is that everything in my life now has been build on the previous, so on and so forth. All good things come to an end. This blog began with the start of the previous chapter in my life and it’s only fitting that it also ends with the completion of that chapter. Still, some things remain the same. I have come to love blogging more than ever because it gives me the space to express. I will not stop writing and sharing my feelings online albeit still anonymously.

To all, everyone and anyone out there who reads this, thank you for your readership and comments all this time… I’m glad to have shared something with you and hope you have gained something out of it for your own life, even if it’s just something small. I ask only one thing in return; drop me a hello, tell me who you are and where you are from, how you came across my writings, and why you read them! (because really, I don’t know why you do!) You can post a comment, or drop me an email

I will of course post a link to my new blog when I have set it up, for those still interested to follow me on this interesting journey that life has put me on. It will still be the same me, but it will also reflect on the person that I have become today; more grown up, less innocent and naïve, but so help me God, just as honest about my feelings.

I can't do this.....

2009-07-24T08:33:00.004+08:00

I can't do it.... I can't be a pillar of strength all the time. I can't constantly be the the one to hold the fort, churn out the advise, or keep everything together.

My brother called the day before... We spoke for almost an hour... He's unhappy with his job (again), he feels dissatisfied with life and is thinking maybe migrating to New Zealand is the solution. He wants to propose to his girlfriend of one year and bring her with him. But she's not entirely sure. He's not sure if the answer to his dissatisfaction is in the people and place here in Malaysia or within him. He said his best friend was leaving to the UK this October to study a phD in Oxford. He felt happy for his friend, sad that he was leaving, but also jealous because he too wanted to go abroad. We speak for a hour... as I left the office, driving to the nearby swimming pool. I was going for a swim, but ended up taking in the car instead..... I said he needed to do some soul searching and find out what he really wanted out of life, and what would make him happy. Is going overseas his form of escape or a genuine desire to live a different life? Did he really love this girl? Was she willing to go along with this plan? What if you scare her off? Why do hate your job? We talked and talked talked.... and still could find no conclusion. I told him we will discuss more, ever dinner perhaps next week.

That night my girfriend was venting on and on about how she couldn't stand the immaturity of her brother, constantly relying on her to solve all his problems, as if she was his mother or something. She felt unappreciated by her brother, that somehow she is being question on how good a sister she really is. She felt that she had not done enough for her brother, thus his discontentment in her. She also felt that in work, people were antagonizing her, and saying bad things of her and nit picking at everything she does to find a fault. She said she can't stand working there anymore under an uncompetent manager and an uncaring organizastion.. She is determined to go to middle east by end of the year... She was venting and venting, half close to tears, half angry enough to rip a phone book in two....I told her she was doing all she could as a sister, and that was all that was ever required of her.... She was not his mother, and he is not there to solve all his problems. The guy wants to be treated like an adult but behaves like a baby.ive him time I said... He will come to his senses, he will learn.... In time. For now, let him be. Her colleagues were scared.. and probably a bit jealous. People can't always take it when someone younger, with less experience suddenly starts rising up to your level. It scares them, and they fell threatened. They nit pick and find fault because the better you are, the more obvious your mistakes seem. No one cares if a 12 year old makes a spelling mistake, but everyone would laugh and pick on you if your international best seller book speak the word 'miscellaneous' wrong.

The next morning, I go to work and by 11a.m, 4 officers from the Malaysian Royal Customs comes barging into our office. My boss was not around.. and no senior colleagues. Everyone looks to me to handle the issue. I invite them in and ask what is the matter... They demand to see all our company records, financial transactions, bank statements, import and export documents, shipping documents.. Everything under the sun. When I asked what for, they said they couldn't tell until their investigatio was done. Bloddy hell. I tried my best to argue, plea, play nice, fight..... trying to stick to my wits. Its not that we are doing any criminal activities....A disgruntled ex-employee had been sending all sorts of letters to immigration, labour department, clients and now, customs... saying our company was up to no good. I was under strict instruction not to give anything to this people. "Play dumb and don't give anything".. I was told. On the other hand, the customs officer looked at me point blank and said "I have the authority to cart away every single thing in this office. You can be nice and co-operate, or this can turn ugly.".... Damn... Caught between a rock and a hard place. I used whatever wits I had to try and keep it under control. FIVE HOURS later after a thorough grilling session, they left ..... with some files......(with a promise to return next monday) but I think I kept the damage under control. But knowing how they work, they will most likely be watching our office this few days.. to make sure we don't try to remove any files... That evening I had a long talk to my boss...He said it was lucky I was there, else they would have carted half the office with them. I wanted to give this ex-staff a piece of my mind, and a punch in the face. I had a long day and said goodnight to him.

By that evening, my girlfriend had called me about 10 times with no answer. She had high fever, her entire body was aching, coughing... she was terrified if she had got the swine flue. Her colleague was in self quarantine for 3 days. She was pissed at me for sticking around in office so late, and not answering her calls. She was expecting that I would rush to her at first chance to tend to her.... "Now I know where you true priorities lie.." she texted me. I'd be pissed too if I were her. But that one line single handedly was the finishing blow to my streak of misfortunes this few weeks.

I drove home... dejected... deflated... demotivated.... My mind was numb.. I couldn't think straight. I can't do this. I'm not superman.....I can't be everyone's pillar of strengh all the time! I just had the most shitty day in office in 2 years... I have practically on the job 2 weeks straight, I had to travel up north again to my wretched hometown again for the weekend and be back in office by monday to welcome the bloody customs officers, I've had no time to spend with my family or friends (many of which were a bit pissed at me for turning their invitations down), my girlfriend was sick AND pissed at me, my brother is having a mini crisis of his own...........Everyone was turning to me to either defend them, support them or give them relief... and at that moment, had no idea who to turn to for MY relief, and even if I did have someone to turn to, I didn't even have the bloody time to go see them.

This morning, I woke up.... and for once felt like driving off to the wilderness instead of going to work... away, away, away from everything and everyone. I need a break... I need an escape... I can't be a pillar of strength all the time....

A past revisited....

2009-07-22T13:40:00.003+08:00

The place I used to live... the memories that were made there...... I was there again.

Even after all these years... I could not believe that I could still be so affected by it, just by being there. Since the last time, I told myself I would never again return to this place. EVER. Like I said, its funny how life brings you the most unexpected things, good and bad.

They were just looking for a good place to eat, and though I knew no less that 3 places to point to, I told them this was my old home town and didn't know much. I was afraid to betray the thoughts running inside of me. In truth, it was much more than that. It was a big chapter in the story of my life as a child. I said nothing, I spoke to no one, and I betrayed no emotion as the car traveled deeper into the town.

There was the primary school I attended for 1 day, before trying to run away. There was the long road my brother, mother and I walked when we got kicked out of the house by my aunt 3am in the morning. There was the small grocery shop my brother and I stole a magnifying glass from because we wanted it so badly, couldn't afford one. This was the place my family fell apart. This was the place my mother spent living on the streets for months with nothing but the cloths on her back. This was the place I HATED coming to every single school holiday since I was 12 and old enough to know how to take the bus alone. I hated it down to my guts, but I cared for my mother even more. My brother hated it too, and he chose to stay behind in KL, enjoying his new found like and friends, trying to forget that he too had a mother who was living alone and penniless needing love and care. I never begrudged him... In fact, I begrudged myself. Why couldn't I be more selfish? Why can't I care just like my brother? Why can't my heart turn cold and hard, and not give a damn about whether or not she missed her children? Why did I have to care so much........

Its hard to be thinking all these things and keep a straight face. Its hard to act as if this was just another place when deep down you know the significance of it to your life. I don't think I can ever come back to this town without thinking about my past.... a past I have not given much thought to since I started my adult life.

They say time heals all wounds..... and maybe it has. But even time can't erase the scars it leaves. They have become a part of me, of my history. People stop asking you about your past the more you get older. Its only when you are growing up that people sympathize if you had it tough as a kid. Once you become an adult, people just don't really give a shit. They all have issues to deal with just like you and me. Life goes on and we can't live in the past. I believe I have moved on. But I'd be lying if I said I still do not carry excess baggage from it. So it is that I carry hidden scars that people don't know about and never ask. Unlike scars that are visible on the body, emotional scars aren't something easy to recognize.....

This place... this town... this house.... this is my scar. You can't look at a scar and not remember how you got it. People with bodily scars get to brag and talk about how they got it and in time, it helps them come to terms with it and accept it. That is something I think I haven't done enough of. Sorry if all of these doesn't make much sense to you. This is just me talking about it and trying to come to terms with it.

Elie Youssef Najem

2009-07-13T13:33:00.005+08:00

Ever heard of a Mr. Elie Youssef Najem?

No? that's OK. Neither did the rest of Malaysia until he made the headline news a few years back pledging a billion ringgint to MAKNA, the Malaysian Cancer Council. Of course, we all know pledges are free, and till today, MAKNA has yet to receive the alleged money.

He's probably the most high profile, biggest scam / con artist around town, and he lives right here, in Bangsar.

You can read up all about him and his self professed 'billion's here at his website. Read between the lines, and you'll ready get to know what Mr. Elie, or as he calls himself 'Lord Elie', is all about.

It would seem he's some billionaire royalty from Lebanon who grew up in Canada but fled to Malaysia because the 'Atkinson Family' is trying to kill him. He must mean Mr. Rowan Atkinson a.k.a Mr. Bean. Yes, that's a stone cold killer if I ever saw one. His money is all stuck because the government (which government I don't know) has all his banking papers and want to kill him the first chance they get. And so, since he's grievously stricken with cancer, walks around in crutches and what have you, he asks in his website for donations for him to continue living.. You poor billionaire you...

I stopped short of ripping my eyes out while reading the testimonial of how giving this 'noble philanthropist' owed countless business around the world..By the way, I googled all the stated companies, and not one came up legit! The testimonial is even allegedly written by some reporter from the Washington post! Well, that explains the grammar! Other than that, we are supposed to believe one of his brother is a Olympic gold medalist, the other owns the largest computer factory in the world and another married to some Italian royalty trying to regain their right to the thrown. Does Italy even have a king? I thought they had the Pope!

Really, I'm a bit lost for words at this guy. I was going to write a long post about how silly and stupid this whole thing is, but the more I read his little website, the more words fail me. I mean.. the sheer amount of bullshit this guy is capable of producing is just amazing... To wove together such a grand yet preposterous story line means this guy really thinks he's a master con man and story teller, capable of fooling the world, or he's seriously retarded. I'm inclined to believe the latter. Someone should take does fake crutches from him and knock him in the head. The sooner Mr. Bean kills him, the better.

Love this comic strip!

2009-07-08T17:42:00.003+08:00

Don't you just love Calvin & Hobbes? Click on it for a larger view.

So much for being humane to your brother...

2009-07-05T23:51:00.003+08:00

Its incredibly ironic that barely a day after spending my time writing about how great we Malaysians are as a people, this comes out as a headline news on Sunday.

Ray of hope turn out to be nightmare

Inhumane bastards... What kind of society do we live in? What kind of people are we? How can we treat our fellow man like this?

There are some things very close to my heart.. and the care of the mentally ill people is one of them. Its a subject matter that intensely personal and close to my own heart. My blood boils and my heart starts pounding as I read they way these people are treated, locked up, permanently stripped naked, left to urine and pass motion out in the open and not fed or cleaned properly.

Many people will never really understand the heart ache and difficulties of having to care for a mentally ill person; an invisible and unseen illness that deeply affects the lives of the person and their entire family. I am neither a selfless volunteer nor an activist in these matters. But I am one of those people who actually live through it; caring for someone you love and is a part of your family but mentally ill.

The amount of hardship, and the depths of the heartache are so much.. that if you knew before what lay ahead, you would never even dare shoulder the task. It has caused me so much pain, tears and suffering that you never really become quite the same person you once were. It challenges you, it drains you, it eats at you.... it brings out the very worst in you. But in all the trials, somehow, it also brings out the best in you. It shapes you, strengthens you, and builds you up into a much tougher person.

But this is no excuse. Whatever hardship we face as care givers, nothing excuses treating the mentally ill worse that we would our pet animals. I understand these people aren't the family of the patients there. They are just salaried workers, doing their job. But even then, is there no sense of common decency towards your fellow man? Do you not realize that despite his illness, this man also deserves love and respect? He is someone's son, brother, father or uncle. What has he done to deserve such humiliating and indecent treatment? His illness is not his own doing. Who are you and what right do you have to inflict such humiliating actions on them?

Even in facing the difficult task of keeping them safe and away from harm, even from their own selves, their basic decently and dignity should always be kept. The means do not justify the ends in this case. Just like there is a right and wrong way to achieving something, there is a right way, and there is a wrong way in caring for these mentally ill people. Is there no respect for a persons basic rights to decency? Do nothing that will compromise the persons basic right to be clothed, to be properly fed and maintain their own personal hygiene.

You should never take these rights away from them any sooner than you would from your own brother or sister.

I am soOo disillusioned right now...

Hating your own country

2009-07-04T23:49:00.001+08:00

I just had a brief online conversation with a former university mate.. and in no uncertain terms was I told by the person that they hated living in Malaysia.

This came as suprise to me. I have never really come across a Malaysian who hated their own country.. at least not so openly.

"What's the reasons for this?" I asked. This person did after all spend about a year in the UK after we all completed out studies... I was given 3 reasons. Weather, government and the people.

The weather part I can understand. We do live in a country that is not only hot but very humid as well. Most people think it's the heat that kills you here.. but really its the humidity. Physics 101 tells you that the more humid an environment, the harder it is for sweat to evaporate. The harder it is for sweat to evaporate, the harder it is for our bodies to stay cool and dry. That's why we feel hot and sticky all the time! As a result, we Malaysians won't walk anywhere if it takes longer than 5 minutes because if you do, on the outside, you get half baked from the sun rays, and on the inside, you get half soaked in your own sweat. So in that sense, I agree. Our weather is just so harsh that anyone who's ever been to other parts of the world well away from the equator and experienced a leisurely walk on a cool summers day, would never want to return to this steam oven we call home.

But there IS one thing to our favour here, that many of us take for granted all the time... and that's the sun. Yes, the sun. We grow up hiding from it and its effects all our life.. we walk under shades, we bring umbrellas, and we put creams on our faces to whiten our dark skin no thanks to the sun. We spend so much time and effort avoiding the sun. But the sun affects us in a more subtle but no less important way that many of us do not realize. When there is a clear blue sky with sunlight coming through down to land, we somehow become energized. Life literally becomes sunnier. People feel better, moods are lighter, and there is a general sense of liveliness everywhere you go.

I'm not making this up by the way.

I have personally experienced this in my travels, and was told the same thing by the people I visit. Can you imagine waking up every single morning, going to work, doing your gardening, or playing in the field with the sky in a permanent grey cast? Why do you think the British are so obsessed with the weather? Why do you think every single radio and TV news telecast almost always include a weather forecast? Why do you think so many westerners travel miles and miles or fly half way round the world to tropical countries during their winter holiday just to sit under a coconut tree by the sea? Its because of the sun. The presence of the sun affects us. I have been told by a Pharmacist friends that anti-depressant drug prescriptions always go up during the long UK winters when you hardly see the sun. So yes, we do get more than our fair share of sunlight here.. but hey.. better more than less!

On the second issue of government... oh brother... where do I even begin. If you read foreign papers like CNN, BBC or any other non-Malaysian newspaper, you probably have the impression that we are in a complete mess as a country. You will have been told of our newly elected Prime Minister somehow suspiciously link to dead Mongolian girls, how the non-Malay races are marginalized systematically with unfair & biased government affirmative actions, and how we are have absolutely no freedom of speech. Those daring enough to show dissent to the government get thrown into jail without a trial. Also, you are told that Malaysian officials are very corrupt and the only way to get things done is by paying someone off.

I find many people who make these comments often know little or hardly anything about our government at all, or they just echo whatever they just heard from others. These same people who tell you that our government is lousy would not even know any other minister in the cabinet beyond the Prime Minister and his deputy. These same people would also have not done any critical thinking, research or analysis of their own on the state of Malaysian politics and government. They either just repeat what they heard in the coffee shop, or hear what others say if they are overseas. Worst of all, these same people most probably did not vote either. I admit, our local politics seem more like a circus sometimes.. or what I like to call 'kampung style' politics. State assembly meetings under a tree, name calling and stupid 'bocor' remarks in proper Parliment sittings, and ministers making the most ridiculous remarks on a daily basis (I usually get my doses of funny political observations from Patrick Teo here). Yes, I totally agree our MP's are nowhere as polish, eloquent or sharp as the British MP's or members of the American Congress. In fact, if you follow the weekly Parliament sittings, it can be quite embarrassing to hear what these elected representatives actually say.

The issue of corruption is also taken very seriously, and to its credit, the government has made efforts to reduce this. But lets look at it with perspective. We are still a very young nation, at only 52 years old. Compared to countries like war torn Zimbabwe, who gained independence the same year we did, I think we have done considerably well. We aren't there yet, but we are learning. And who says first world countries are that much better anyway? Haven't you hear about the British MP's cheating on claims recently? Yes, hundreds and thousands of pounds used for personal repairs on their mansions, hotel bills for nights with their mistresses and suspicious payments out to companies the MP's themselves have a stake in were just the tip of the iceberg it seems. So who says corruption happens only in us 'developing countries'?

But you know, all this talk of government transparency, efficiency and national policies sometimes seem so detached from our real lives. It's funny that despite these people complaining that our government is lousy, no good and over controlling, they still live pretty good lives. The average man complains, eats, shops, worships, holiday, travel and write as he sees fit without any intervention from the government. There are no ears on the wall ala KGB waiting for you to say a wrong word before being sent to jail. Yes, there are some things we aren't allowed to debate and argue about publicly, like Malay privileges & Muslim conversions, and to the western world, this is a lack of freedom. But absolute freedom, unchecked spells doom, especially for a young country like us. Our society isn't mature enough to publicly fight and disagree on these issues without tearing ourselves apart. Despite being painted as a controlled society... our people lead comfortable and free lives. Cost of living is low, education levels are good, and there is genuine peace in the land. The daily circus of local politics aside, our government has in the last 20 years been a good steward of our country's and its people's welfare.

On the last issue of people... I have no idea what this person meant, but only said that people in the UK & other western countries were friendlier. Malaysians were rude and had no respect for each other. Well.... it sounded to me like they were saying Malaysians were just generally uncivilized & unrefined.

I don't know about that..... as a Malaysian, I know that we can be a bit quirky sometimes... but generally I think we are a well rounded lot. I don't know what kind of experience others have had, but generally, I find that we are highly adaptable people, able to live and adjust to life anywhere in the world. We all grow up with neighbors vastly different from ourselves, in race, religion, language, culture, social status and opinions. We know how to tolerate and adopt to each other. Only in Malaysia will you have a Chinese eating banana leaf rice with their hands, an Indian eats Wantan mee with chopsticks and a Malay chap having tau fu far (bean curd) for dessert. I do think we are generally friend and courteous people.. though perhaps not as polished in speech and mannerism as those in first work countries. We aren't too caught up in the rat race that we become selfish and uncaring of others (like our neighbours down south), and we aren't so backward that we don't know the ways of the world either. We all speak English, Malay and at least our mother tongue, and our culture remains very much Asian, where filial piety, hospitality to our guest, politeness and respect to elders still exist. So we aren't as high thinking others; we don't use hybrid cars, we don't recycle, we don't care for public property and we don't properly conserve natural resources like water and electricity very well.. but hey, one step at a time OK. The west polluted and pillaged the earth for hundreds of years before thinking of recycling or controlling green house gases. No one cried foul then, and no one is pointing fingers at them now either for the giant hole in the ozone over antarctic melting our icebergs as we speak. Like I said, we are getting there, slowly but surely.

So really, what is there to hate about this country? It's not perfect... but in many ways, it still is good by any standards. We get the sun all year round, we live comfortably and we all sit in the mamak peacefully watching football without killing each other (unless they were Liverpool fans of course, in which case, die!)..... don't you agree?

RIP Michael Jackson

2009-07-01T23:45:00.003+08:00

So much has been said recently about the passing of Michael Jackson. He was a superstar, he was a pop icon.. we was and still is arguably the single most influential entertainer of our times... He was weird, he was genius, he was gentle and sweet, he was sick and perverted. So many things have been said about him, I don't think the world needs another article about the life and death of this enigmatic genius.

The world is talking about his every single day now... It is one of those moments in life where you really remember when you were when you first heard it. When Princess Diana died.. it was the eve of our national holiday.. I heard the news on TV... completely devastated. This time, I was in my hotel room in China, getting ready for the day.. I switch on the TV to watch CNN while getting ready.. and there it was.. Michael Jackson reported dead.. at the time.. it wasn't confirmed officially yet.

Over the next 2 ~ 3 days there were tributes upon tributes to him, and everyone talked about how sad they were, and how they missed him, and that he will forever be in their hearts. People crying on tv, talking about how Michael Jackson changed their lives, and remains a part of them, like their just lost someone so special and important in their lives. Which brings me to my point really... why do people suddenly miss him now, why only after his death? I mean, prior to last week, Michael Jackson was still alive and kicking.. He was planning a comeback tour.. and there was news of his child molestation cases, and the name wacko jacko seemed to be more of what people think of him rather than the impact he has made in the music scene over the past few decades... Everyone was busy singing along to High School Musical, raging on about the latest American Idol and talking about frumpy little Susan Boyle.....

But come his shock death.. and the jokes stop. Suddenly people start to remember again who MJ was and is.. suddenly now that he's gone and calling him names and speculating on his personal life isn't so funny anymore.. and people start to remember the artist that he was first and foremost and the fantastic music and dancing he pioneered.

I bet everyones Facebook pages were pouring with tributes to MJ.. music stores are suddenly packed with MJ CD's and videos... and radios start playing his songs over the hour... we all feel sad that he is no more.. we all feel the lost thinking never again will we have more musical genius from this man... And now, we all miss him.

But do we sincerely miss someone who has been there all this while but ignored for a good few years? Why is it that we suddenly 'miss' him only after he's dead? Why do the acknowledgments and praises of his contribution come only after he breathed his last breath? Why is it that we feel the lost of his creative output only after he is no more? Its human nature I guess.. to only start to appreciate what you have only when you have lost it. We take people for granted when they are there.. and start to realize their importance only when they are gone... It feels almost as if he's respected in death today more than he was when he was alive. I guess its just like any other great painter or artist.. their work can only be appreciated after they are gone. I honestly think MJ was a fantastic artist.. the consummate entertainer. But I'm just a bit irked by how everyone suddenly professes how much MJ was a part of their lives.. and how much they were going to miss him. I do understand the pain and shock of this lost... but I honestly do not think he's death is going to be THAT big an impact to anyone's lives except his immediate family and dependents.. The family will be sad... the children will have to be taken care off.... and there will be genuine mourning over a lost son, brother and father... But for the rest of us, its just a passing of a great pop icon.

MJ made fantastic music.. and through his music.. people of different background, races and religion all found a common ground.. We all found his music catchy and his dance moves uber cool and we all at some point or anther, locked ourselves in our bedrooms, trying to do the moonwalk. But for his entire life, he was essentially just an artist / entertainer. He did not cure cancer, or bring about world peace. Neither was he a respected figure & beacon of society. I can't recall his using his fame and fortune to make the world a better place (like his song said) except when he got that bus load full of stars for the 'We are the World' thingy for Africa... He did not fully commit his time and efforts to a worthy cause the way Princess Diana did with landmines and AIDS, or how Mother Theresa dedicated her life to the poor. MJ was an entertainer and business man first.. then philanthropist second. Just like Hugo Chavez's reaction to the news coverage, I too felt a bit annoyed at the way the world seemed to be pouring out a wee bit too much sympathy and coverage over his death. We all felt sad for sure, the amount of news covering the issue is almost as if the Pope had just died. Even then, I'm not sure if there were as many people crying and professing their grief over his death of MJ's death. Beyond missing whatever potential creative output he might have still had in him, I have to frankly wonder what else will the world miss of him. Even news on the current world economic crisis, government bailouts of huge companies & banks and even the swine flue pandemic all seem to take a back seat. We suddenly forget that hundreds of thousands of people are facing retrenchment, people's life savings and investments have been lost due to unscrupulous banking and the world is facing yet another pandemic that can potentially mutate into something more sinister anytime. That's how much coverage MJ's death has been given.

I certainly do not wish to downplay or brush off the passing of MJ. But as I said, this is not another tribute article. This is just my observation of how (1) People all only start missing people / things they had only after they are gone and (2) The world seems to be over reacting or blowing his death out of proportion in terms of significance to our real life issues the world is dealing with.

Though you leave this world, you have made your mark & your legend lives on through your music. May God have mercy on your soul. Rest In Peace MJ.

Pics of Shanghai

2009-06-21T23:02:00.004+08:00

So since I can't access my blogger account while here in China, I've worked my way around it by resorting to posts through email and pictures via other websites. Here are some photos I have managed to take these 2 days. I hope this works!

If that didn't work, then just follow this link to my web album then..

Shanghai pics so far

My first thoughts on Shanghai

2009-06-21T16:15:00.001+08:00

After 5 hours non stop, I finally arrived at my destination… Shanghai!

I can't say I know a lot about Shanghai.... except that it is one of the biggest cities of China… plus it was the earliest cities in China that opened its doors to the western world. So it's a big giant city….. commercial hub, blah blah….. I wasn't sure if I was going to see anything you don't normally see in big cities… shopping malls.. sky scrapers, highways, high end designer goods, Mc Donald's and what have you. I did find manage to find out that they have one of the tallest hotel and towers and trade centres in China and in the world in the Jin Mao tower etc… but then, we already have to KLCC in our own back yard, so its kinda hard to get excited over yet another super tall building… just doesn't do it for me. Why didn't my boss choose some suppliers from Beijing instead?

One thing that DID catch my attention was the Yu Yuan Gardens that seems to be very ancient on top of being beautiful… I think I will definitely check that out. But Shanghai really is just supposed to be a port of entry for me. My real destination is another city called Nantong, and another in the south called Jiaxing. I have been sent here alone to the land of my forefathers, to do a visit and inspection with some of my company suppliers. In a way, I am hoping that when I am out of the city, I will get to see some more interesting and cultural things to take pictures of. Who needs to see another Dolce & Gabana and LV shop anyway.

Flight was pretty normal, with the exception of when we landed and these bunch of health officers came on board wearing their full quarantine suit, pointing some thermal laser gun at us, try to see if any of us had got the H1N1 flue… which as of this moment I can confirm was a negative.

Sad to say, within ten minutes of heading into the city.. the rain started to POUR. (pic).. It was only 4pm.. but the clouds were so dark and menacing you would think it is evening. This kind of dampened (pun intended) my spirits somewhat, as I was looking forward to dumping my bags and going out while there was still a bit of sunlight. Along the way, I actually spotted something that really epitomized the joke others like to say about China and their standards of doing work. Take a look at this truck (pic). Of course, this is a bit of a stereotype….. I'm sure China will pick up in a few years. Malaysia isn't any better anyway.. and I think in time the Chinese will supersede us (if not already).

Anyway, the rain spoilt my spirits and even by 8, the rain had not stopped. I grabbed my camera and braved whatever leftover rain there was left and started walking the streets. I headed straight for The Bund (link) to take a snap of the Shanghai skyline. Here's my poor miserable attempt. Camera's like mine aren't really good for night shots, I didn't have a tripod, it was still raining….. and there was road works going on the entire stretch of the bund.. which pretty much ruined the whole scene really…. So I headed for Nanjing Road… supposedly a famous shopping street stretch a couple of miles long.. I walked the entire stretch… looking for dinner and just to get a general feel for the place.

It's kind of hard since not many speak English… so whatever little mandarin I could speak had to do. True to my prediction.. countless countless shopping malls.. it was a bit of déjà vu… like being in BB Plaza or Bukit Bintang again… except its MUCH bigger, and everything is in Chinese. Believe it or not, I just settled for some McD's for dinner and that was it.. Took a few more pictures and headed back to the hotel. Shopping districts aren't really my thing… regardless of wherever you are in the world.

But overall, it does feel a lot livelier that in KL. The streets are bustling with young couples and families, expatriates going about their business. My boss deliberately asked me to come a day earlier for me to 'get a feel of China'…. Well, despite not getting to excited, I must admit there is a certain energy to the place… fast paced big city feel that is… Its not everyone's cup of tea… but it's definitely present here in Shanghai. And to be honest, it easier for me to adapt here in Shanghai than it was when I was I Europe last year or in UK the previous year. Maybe it's the colour of the skin, maybe it's the language. In the UK, I spoke the language.. but even then, their English and our English is totally different.. Plus the culture, way of life and thinking is so different (not in a bad way though).. In Belgium it was worst.. everything was French-y and anti English.. Over here in Shangai.. some thought I was from Beijing.. others thought I was from Japan.. and when I kept absolutely quiet… they used whatever English they could to try to communicate with me. If I opened my mouth and spoke mandarin, they were quite friendly actually.

I'm not much of a mandarin speaker, and can hardly read more that 20% of a Chinese sentence.. but hey, throw me here a year.. I honestly think I could pick it up!

More updates to come……….

P/S: Just in case you were wondering where the pics are.. it turns out Blogger is blocked in China, and I can't access my dashboard. I am posting this blog through email. Will update the blog with pictures when I get back to Malaysia...Turns out China censors A LOT of things on the internet. Luckily, I remembered that I could post through email.

So this is what it feels like!

2009-06-17T18:56:00.003+08:00

I think I finally figured out one miniscule portion of the never ending maze of the complex female psyche, and that is.. to dress up and look good.....

Call me unkept, call me messy and even call me chin chai... but I've never been the type to care too much about how I looked when I walked out my front door. Put on a shirt, put on a pants, comb my hair, and out the door I go. I've never stopped to wonder if it would go with my shoes, or if that shirt would make me look fat, or if my hair was behaving itself that day... that was of course all the way from adolescence up to my teens... when suddenly, the opposite sex suddenly seems so interesting, and what you wore suddenly represented who you were...

But even then, I did what was minimum in terms of styling and grooming.. Always with the same hair style, always with the T-shirt and jeans... always with the same earthy colours.... My girlfriend would cringe in horror everytime I put on one of my ultra lame 'Visit Kuala Lumpur' t-shirts that I had. In my defence, I got half a dozen for free and they were comfortable to wear! In any case, I was banned by my image consultant (read girlfriend) from wearing any of those shirts, or any shirt deemed too lame or humiliating unless I wanted to walk 10 feet away from her. So those shirts were then resigned to when I was sleeping, or out for jog... in which case, they were OK, since she was not there to bare the embarrassement. Haha... Since then, I have come to rely and trust in the fashion sense of the fairer sex rather than my own..... relying almost completely on my girlfriend and other female friends to judge if what I was wearing was OK.

So, not being a fan of fancy cloths and stuff, I hardly go shopping... But last week, there was an exhibition in town, and I was supposed to man our company booth for 3 days. Instructions from my boss was "Make sure you look neat and professional - Get a proper business suit"... I didnt have a suit.. so I had to buy one, which isn't cheap by the way. So out I went with my trusty image consultant, and came home five hundred bucks poorer, but with a handsome looking black suite and pants to call my own. I wasn't really too excited about spending that kind of money on a suit I will wear bearing a few times a year.. but anyway.. bosses orders.

I know wearing suits are pretty common in western countries.. When I was in Brussels and Germany last year... everyone wore a suite.. and next to them, I looked like a little schoolboy with my little tie and long sleeve shirt. But here in Malaysia.... suits are someting you don when you are about to graduate, you are attending a big interview, or you're about to get married... Its just too hot to be walking around wearing a suit... You'll look smart, but you'll look like a fool at the same time.. unless you are white of course, then its fine because they don't know any better. :p

There I was, standing in front of the mirror, white striped shirt, dark black pants, blue tie and a dark black overcoat... I stared at myself for a full 5 minuts side to side, up to down..... and I looked.... I looked... well..... GOOD!

OK, I'm not the most handsome looking guy in town (or on my street for the matter), but I was looking good for my own standards. Sharp, smart and presentable....I mean... I looked good, and I felt good. I walked more confidently, I talked more confidently... and people seemed to look at me and treat me differently... with a bit more respect almost. Is it true that cloths make the man? Heck, I even felt that I was getting more stares and looks from the opposite sex..... but maybe that just me letting the suit get to my head... too 'perasan' for my own good. :P

So, I finally understood in way, why women bother taking a whole hour trying to choose the perfect outfit... or spending 30 minutes just to put on make up... or selecting the best combination of shoes, handbag and blouse... Dressing well gives you that extra boast of confidence... and I guess in that sense, I can understand and accept that now.

But beware I say. Do not make your appearance the foundation of your confidence.. and do not frown upon those who do not bother to dress up the way you do. If make-up and cloths are the ones that give you your courage to face others, then you are hollow inside and without character. Judge not those who dress simple and care less about their looks, because they just might have the strength of character and confidence that outweights yours.

In the mean time..... I'm going to admire myself in that suit a few more times. Haha... :P

No sitting & Smoking

2009-06-05T17:03:00.003+08:00

Gosh,

What a busy time it has been. Work really tends to pick up in the middle of the year. I have been spending two days in Singapore trying to close a project tender my company is doing. I've been working almost every weekend for the past month or so... kind of tiring. Next week there will be a 3 day exhibition in KL, which I have to attend and I'm stuck with 2 projects and 3 tenders to follow up on at the same time.. crazy!

Something kind of ticked me a bit while staying in Singapore recently. Tourist in Singapore are able to buy T-shirts saying Singapore is a 'fine' city.. The shirt proudly displays all the petty rules and corresponding fines that apply like.. no chewing gum, no jay walking etc etc.... Its one of the things Singapore is notorious about. The government basically sets a lot a lot of rules for its citizens on how to behave and what not to do....

Most recent is the 'no sitting while smoking rule'... according to my smoker colleagues.. the rule is simple... If you smoke, you can't sit. If you sit, you can't smoke! Haha.. sounds like a petty little rule does it? Usually, when we all sit down in a table outdoors, some would just puff away while everyone sits around chatting.. With this rule... you will see the smokers having to get up, walk 10 feet away and smoke.. standing of course.

I'm not sure what the logic was.. but I think it might have something to do with protecting non smokers from second hand smoke.. After all, the smoker smokes through a filter, the rest of us smell the stuff unfiltered! So, I guess to make like miserable for smokers, they came up with this rule...Wouldn't it be easier if they just banned smoking in public areas / places where crowds are present?

Whatever the intention or effect is.. I just find it highly funny... that the government make a law on when you can sit or stand!

Money money money....

2009-05-25T22:12:00.002+08:00

How important is money to you? How far are you willing to go, and what are you willing to sacrifice in the name of earning a good living?

I have asked myself this question many times. Everyone wants a good life... How many times have you looked enviously at people who seem to have it all.. that you could be just like them? I know I have. People who can go where they want, buy what they want, live where they want, do as they wish without having to ask the question "Can I afford it?"

The reality is, 80% of us all, who have to ask that question at some level.

I have said to others and to myself, that if I were not bonded to my current job, you wouldn't see me here. I will be somewhere in the middle east, in the middle of the dessert or in an oil rig, doing a job not many others are willing to do, and earning USD$200 per day. Or at least that is what I say to myself. After hearing countless true stories of people leaving the country and making their fortune in a few short years, how could you not want to go right? I mean, could you earn in a year what you would in 5 years. That is a lot of money by any standards. How come half the country hasn't left for such jobs yet?

On the other hand, I have my family and loved ones to think about. If I left, and earned my money, where would that leave them? Do I just abandon them? At some level, I guess filial piety does seem to kick in a bit. It just seems wrong to abandon my parents, now that they are at middle age. They did give birth to me, changed my diapers & fed me to the big buffalo I am today. I feel especialy responsible towards my mother. When I am with her, I feel very special kind of bond between us, that somehow, she knows how much I mean to her and how much she means to me. I'm not sure if its something every mother and son has.... she has told me many times, & some have observed that my mother clings on to me more that to my brother. In that sense, I feel that there is a special bond between us, that in a very intimate and unspoken way, we both know how important we are to each other. To her, I am still her 'hann hann boy' and she is still my 'ma'.... I don't know if this is a feeling every mother and son has..... But whatever it is, it is one of the strongest feelings that prevent me from going away, far away from her.

It's not like things are going bad for me in my current company. In fact, it is actuallly going rather well. I have slowly but steadly become a useful asset to my boss & company..... and I can tell that i enjoy his trust and confidence. People in the projects I am involved in call me my bosses right hand man. I'm not sure if they just mock me (due to my young age) or they are serious. I secretly found out that I'm actually being paid better than some of my colleagues (which are older than me). I was recently handed the company car to drive. I told him to sell off the car instead.. but he told me to drive it because if I rejected he would have to pass it to the 'next person' which was his very subtle hint to me on pecking orders in office..... I don't know if he's just pulling my leg or playing a joke on me, but recently over drinks.. he said he wanted to make me 'Operations Manager' instead of 'Project Engineer' that I am now.

I didn't know whether to take him seriously (he tends to change his mind a lot and say things as it goes)... I kept silent.. and told him lightly that the title doesn matter to me. What is important is the role & function I play.. and of course the pay I am getting! He could name me the CEO or the office boy for the matter, as long as I get the job done, and you pay me what I am worth.... Plus.. I'm only 24 for godness sake.. you seriously want to name me Operations Manager? Perhaps it was written all over my face, because the next thing he said to me was

"Don't worry, age does not matter.".....
"But experience does, you said so yourself.." I said.......
"You just learn on the job la...." was his reply...

I kept silent. Was this guy just trying to get my hopes high or was he serious? Of course, knowing my boss, the title was more formality that actual monetory. He was already paying me a good salary... and I was already doing some functions of an 'operations manager' eventhough I am still new at it all...

All this just makes me wonder.... what will I do at the end of my bond? Believe it or not, I am already halfway through my 3 year bond... and before you know it... the time will come when I will have to decide if i should stay where I am or leave for greener pastures. I confess.. one of my deepest fears is of underachieving.. of not living up to my full potential. I may not ever become a millionaire...or rich.. or even middle class... but at least, I must know that I tried... and that I really achieved all that I possibly could in this life as God has fated. In any case, I refuse to believe that God created me with little or no potential... so in that sense... its pressure to perform baby!..

of Bikes & Babies

2009-05-13T23:50:00.003+08:00

I started working for this company because I needed a loan to finish studying, plus I needed a job anyway. So upon the recommendation and introduction of people, I met my future boss. He gave me a cheque, and I gave him my first 3 years of working life. Kind of win-win really if you think about it. But I did it because I felt I had no other choice. This was the opportunity that lay before me, and at the time, there was nothing more important that finishing my education.

You must be wondering why I say all this. I have a new colleague recently... well, not so new.. He's been around since August last year. He JUST married, JUST had a new born son, and JUST took an interest free loan of RM20,000 from my boss.... to BUY A BIKE. Not just any bike, but a fancy 250cc Kawasaki race bike, complete with full crash helmet and cool looking jacket & gloves.

His reasoning? Well, he was about to move into some other place that was on the other side of the city.... (You see, my boss put our office 5 minutes from his home, so everyone travels quite a bit to office except him, but hey, his the boss)..... so travelling to office would be long, frustrating, and expensive what will all the jams and tolls Malaysia is so fond of. Yes, it is inconvenient on a bike, with rain, smoke etc plus you can't carry many things...makes sense to drive a bike.

But here's my bone of contention.... Does it have to be a RM20,0000 bike? Why can't you just get a 'normal' bike that everyone else uses? It cost 4 times less! Oh right... its not that comfortable... and you might just end up looking like a Mat Rempit.... plus it has always been your dream? I don't know about you... but to me.. all those reasons hardly justify making such a financial decision. A bike is a bike.. A RM5000 car will give you 4 wheels, air conditioning and a roof.. a RM20,000 bike still has only 2 wheels and no roof.

To each his own I guess.... I took a loan to get educated.. he took a loan to get his dream bike. Said something to me about this being his last and only chance and living this dream of his. Said that now that he has a baby boy, this would probably be the last thing he spends on himself. I don't know whether to laugh or feel sorry. Its almost like he resigns his fate for the next 2o years of no spending for himself but for his family. What ever happened to financial planning?

This from the same colleague who told me he wants SIX (yes, six) children.. simply because "my wife and I both like kids"... I was completely baffled. Now, normally (correct me if I am wrong) when a young persons intents to start a family, he / she thinks about the income they make, the expenditure they are going to need, food, cloths, bills and mostly their childrens education... When you add it up, it's a lot of money. That is why a lot of Chinese families in Malaysia actually choose to have just 2 or 3 children.. Raising kids COST MONEY.. sending them to university cost even more. So how do you just say you want six kids because 'my wife and I like kids"? I pointed the same questions to him and his answer was... "My dad was just a normal officer, and my mother was a house wife. I have 6 siblings... and we all turned out just fine.. In that sense, don't worry too much, things will work out.". ....Brave words for a guy who needed to take a loan to buy a bike as his last act of 'self gratification'. Is that blind faith or deliberate ignorance? From where I am standing, its just baffling how he thinks everything will magically solve itself. I still scratching my head thinking how I'm supposed to raise the money to get married.. and this guy wants six kids for the kick of it.

Everybody's Free (to wear sunscreen)

2009-04-29T20:07:00.002+08:00

From Wikipedia:

Wear Sunscreen or the Sunscreen Speech are the common names of an essay actually called "Advice, like youth, probably just wasted on the young" written by Mary Schmich and published in the Chicago Tribune as a column in 1997.

The most popular and well-known form of the essay is the successful music single released in 1999, credited to Baz Luhrmann.

This is a FANTASTIC song / column that I have been so obsessed with recently. Do me a favour, listen to the song FIRST (posted from youtube), just listen... Then read the lyrics below.

Ladies and Gentlemen of the class of '97... wear sunscreen.

If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be IT.

The long term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience.

I will dispense this advice now.

Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Never mind. You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they have faded. But trust me, in 20 years you'll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked.

You are NOT as fat as you imagine.

Don't worry about the future; or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubblegum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind; the kind that blindside you at 4pm on some idle Tuesday.
Do one thing every day that scares you.

Sing.

Don't be reckless with other people's hearts, don't put up with people who are reckless with yours.

Floss.

Don't waste your time on jealousy; sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind. The race is long, and in the end, it's only with yourself.

Remember compliments you receive, forget the insults; if you succeed in doing this, tell me how.
Keep your old love letters, throw away your old bank statements.

Stretch.

Don't feel guilty if you don't know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting people I know didn't know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives, some of the most interesting 40 year olds I know still don't.

Get plenty of calcium.

Be kind to your knees, you'll miss them when they're gone.

Maybe you'll marry, maybe you won't, maybe you'll have children, maybe you won't, maybe you'll divorce at 40, maybe you'll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary. Whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much or berate yourself, either. Your choices are half chance, so are everybody else's. Enjoy your body, use it every way you can. Don't be afraid of it, or what other people think of it, it's the greatest instrument you'll ever own.

Dance. Even if you have nowhere to do it but in your own living room.

Read the directions, even if you don't follow them.

Do NOT read beauty magazines, they will only make you feel ugly.

Get to know your parents, you never know when they'll be gone for good.

Be nice to your siblings; they are your best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.

Understand that friends come and go, but for the precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography in lifestyle because the older you get, the more you need the people you knew when you were young.

Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard; live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft.

Travel.

Accept certain inalienable truths, prices will rise, politicians will philander, you too will get old, and when you do you'll fantasize that when you were young prices were reasonable, politicians were noble and children respected their elders.

Respect your elders.

Don't expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund, maybe you'll have a wealthy spouse; but you never know when either one might run out.

Don't mess too much with your hair, or by the time you're 40, it will look 85.

Be careful whose advice you buy, but, be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia, dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it's worth.

But trust me on the sunscreen.

Oh Brother...

2009-04-05T22:44:00.002+08:00

Is there no end to just how absurd and crazy life can get some times?

Top of my list of 'latest annoying and crazy things that could happen in my life'.... my father and his crazy ideals again.. Only, this time, its more than just an idea.... and its more than just plain crazy.

Some background: He is just going through a divorce with his third wife. His not even out of it yet. The court proceedings are not finalized yet, and it will be a good 6 months before anything moves I think. He moved out the place and came to live with my brother in a rented apartment. He got a job as an operations manager in security company... but due to the lousy pay and raw deal he is getting... his looking for other jobs... with not a lot of success I must say. My brother and I have been partially supporting his over the past half a year.. giving him money to live on (he was out of a job for a good few months)...

You know how the word notorious is the negative opposite of the famous? Well... I'm looking for a similar opposite to the word miracle.... because.. SOMEHOW... through some sort of 'miracle'... he met someone new..(can you see what's coming next?)

When I first got wind of this matter, I chose to keep silent. After all, my father was a full grown man.. he was free to do as he pleased, and socialized with who he pleased.. And after all..... well.. he is my father.... I'm hardly in a position to even forbid or bless anything he does. After all... I understood if he was feeling lonely and needy. What could be wrong with having someone to talk to right? For many months, he would frequently called my brother and I just to chat... and sometimes complain how we seldom called him back. I think he was lonely.. And my brother and I were just too pre-occupied with our own lives to go and comfort him and keep him company.

So after he started seeing this new mysterious woman... the calls stopped... and he dropped off the radar just like that. He would not come home..... hardly saw his face.. and the most annoying part to me.. he only texted me when he RAN OUT OF MONEY. Though I gracefully just gave him cash with no questions asked... I did in all honestly start feeling very annoyed at what was happening. Over the weeks, bits and pieces of information started coming through... mainly from my brother......

She was a foreigner.. from the Philippines.... she was a nanny... or WAS a nanny.. she was currently out of a job... and she had overstayed he visa. How on earth did my dad get involved with her I do not know.. but I did know that he was helping her in some way.

Finally, just last week, he broke his silence. He invited my brother and I out for coffee... wanting to tell us something it seems.. Oh brother.... whatever was coming.... it can't be good..... So out we went... and started chatting about everything else... from local politics to car prices to banking crisis before coming down to the real deal.... And that was when he dropped the bomb.

According to him.... He has been with this woman for a good 4 months..... She has been through a lot of tough times.... Divorcee... 3 children.. youngest in high school and so the story goes.

I seriously have no idea what has gotten into my father in wanting to go out of his way to help this woman. He has helped out with her expenses here and there (thus explaining the lack of money)........ and now he wants to eventually self the apartment we have, split the money, move to the Philippines, get married to this woman, and start a food business or whatever.

Oh brother, can you believe that. I don't know whether to laugh or be mad at such an absurd notion.

There was no beating about the bush, and for the next 3 hours as we sat there, I let fly everything i had to say about the matter, how silly it was, how rash and foolish the idea seems, how he doesn't know a damn thing about this woman and now wants to invest his last remaining money and property in her country with her, and get married. He game us some flimsy reason as to why doing this is good.

#1 - The Pilippines is a good place to start to kind of business he wants to do
#2 - He can't convert out of Islam while in Malaysia; and they can't get married without her converting too
#3 - His not getting anywhere in life. He's middle aged and close to the end of his working life, and needs to do something to sustain himself.

He tells me his now some giddly little school boy fallen in love with a woman. And this woman is not some young gold digger out to get his money. They are both just trying to make a living in a tough world. Here was my rhetoric ( a condensed version rather )

How much do you know about this lady? Please be serious, don't come and tell me in the past 4 months that you have known each other, you have really 'come to know' each other. Have you told this lady everything about you, including your deepest darkest secrets? No? Well, do you really think she has come clean with you then? No? Then why the hell are you even talking about 'getting married'? What is this, a business transaction? How can you invest you money in someone you hardly know?

Philippines is a good place for you to start your business? First question; what do you know about the Philippines? How do YOU know its a good or bad place? You have either been there, dealt with people there, or even taken an interest in that place up until you met this woman, and suddenly you think its a good place? You have been living in Malaysia your whole life; you know the people, the places, the customs, the culture, the language, yet you think business prospects are worse here than in the Philippines? What support do you have over there? Whats that? Her brother? So basically you want to sell you house, get married and move there, totally dependent on her to integrate and guide you through the society there and start business? That must have been some pretty special 4 months.

So you want to repair your mistakes and convert out of Islam? Well, you are paying for the mistakes you made, and its not like you didn't know the entanglements and difficulties of converting muslims in the country. You did that for a woman to remember? Just like now. In any case, this is a big joke. Religion and faith is not something that is written on your IC. What is officially written in the records is irrelavent to what is inside. If you truly are serious about wanting to return to your true faith, why haven't you? What has been stopping you from getting up every Sunday and attending church? Is it the words on your IC? Or are you afraid that the government will hunt you and lock you up for attending church? Faith is intrinsic.... regardless of what is written on paper, or even where they bury you at the end of your life, muslim or christian burial ground.. it is what was inside that matters.. So please don't give me that excuse... it does not hold water.

So you want to do something with you life? Thats fine. But does it have to be in such a dramatic manner? Again, you know nothing of this woman or her country. You have no real basis for trust. The both of you are just looking at each other as a way out of your current misery; financial or otherwise. Everyone flocks to you when they see that you bring hope of success & hapiness. But how many will stay when the chips are down and you have just lost? Isn't there some line in marriage vows about for better or for worse... I honestly do not think the 2 of you are looking at the worse part.. Because things that can go wrong will go wrong, and when it happens, everyone else will turn their backs and flee. Maybe very few will stay... and you know.. your family will stay. Your 2 sons will do their best to help you, regardless of how badly you screwed up. But.....Will she stay? Marrying her makes her family by name... but again, its just a name, like the religion on your IC isn't it?.. what matters is what's in the heart and the fact is, YOU DON'T KNOW HER HEART YET. You do not know the depths of how serious or committed she is to you.

It really boils down to that. If you do not have a committment to each other first, all this talk about building a new life, starting a business etc remains just talk.. You are in fact just committed to making your lives better and you both think being together is the means to that end. You share a common will... but I do not think that's good enough.

Sigh........

I never thought the day would come where I was expected to give relationship advise to my own father. You would think that being twice my age, he would be twice the wiser.. what having 3 failed marriages.. Barely coming out of the third failure, he's getting all tangled up with another person.... Life really is stranger than fiction.

A Loving Rebuke

2009-03-09T22:46:00.002+08:00

"Do the right thing.." I was told...

If only it was so easy.. or so simple...

I was catching up and chatting with an old friend..... and it came up. Where's your mother? "In a nursing home" I confessed. I was about to go into the details..... expecting my friend would listen and emphatized... But I got none of that....

"Do the right thing" she said... She didn't want to hear the details, she didn't need to... "Regardless of what has happened over the last few years (which she has been totally unaware of), NOTHING justifies putting your mother in a nursing home. I know you must have been through a lot. Everyone has their own struggles in life. I don't care how many times she has run away... she is your mother. Can you imagine if your children did that to you."

I stayed completely silent. The words pierced right through my heart. This was something that has been on my mind ever since day one. Putting your parents in any sort of nursing home is never an honourable thing to do. Deep down, I sometimes felt that I was taking the easy way out in just sending her to a home, instead of taking the bull by the horn and taking her home with me.... But of course, there were always reasons, some almost legitimate why putting her in the home was better... but then again.. I wonder to myself if they were really good reasons, or just excuses we made up to ourselves to make us feel better.

My ears burnt...... To hear your inner most thoughts being so bluntly and openly spoken by a friend was not easy to swallow. No complicated reasoning, no details and analysis on what the best course of action...... Just the fact that me, as a son, had just sent my mother away to stay in a home instead of together with her.

My first instinct was to defend myself. Its not like we have never tried. I have.. so hard.. The first time when I was just 13... One trip up north to visit my mother, I got so emotional, so convicted by my guilt conscience that when i got back, I got my father to the table and told him "I want to move out. I want to go stay with my mother and take care of her since none of your are willing to do it."... This sent my father into a panic.. not wanting me to change school and leave everything behind.. He offered a compromise.. Bring my mother to KL... We would rent a flat, he would pay for it.... and my mother, my brother and I would stay together. I agreed. It was a good compromise. I felt that I had finally did the right thing. If I had not, things would have just gone on the way they were with my mother neglected. After about 6 months of living together... my mother took off. She swollowed 30 of her pills... I personally hospitalized her and stayed with her. After that, she took off and did not want to come back again. That was exactly 9 years ago. I remember because it was her birthday, 2nd March, last weekend.

Many many years later, college students about to graduate, we lived together again, though noithing much changed. She was still resistant and fighting medicine refusing to willingly take. W stayed togther, for about 8 months... Those were trying times. There was only my brother and I to watch over her and take care of her.. To make sure she took her pills. And despite all our diligience, she still went into relapses. That was when things always got worse. I could never handle the relapses. It just took so much out of me emotionally... having to deal with it.

And now, after her latest return, my brother and I amicably decided that the nursing home was the best asnwer. We were both working.. We no longer rented our own home... and we had no one to watch over her full time. Even if we could hire some maid to watch over her, the maid would still be ill qualified and ill equiped to handle my mother.

Till now, I still doubt it my heart if what we do is right. My mother of course harbours the hope that we would eventually take her out to live with us. I have discussed this with my brother and we are both agreeable.. But when is the right time? Who would she live with? How to arrange for someone to care for her? Can that person handle her? How do we know she will not run away agian? How do we ensure that she never does again? Who will bear the cost of it all? That is just with regards to my mother..

What about my girlfriend? We are at that stage in our relationship where marriage is the next thing in line.. But can she handle my mother? In her own admission.. NO. She knows my mother would prefer to stay with me, her younger one. But in my heart I know that these 2 cannot come together. As of now, she has not the strenght or the heart to deal with my mother, and I doubt this will change in the future. I do not blame her... Its a heavy burden to shoulder, and it really can and will tests a person right to the brink of their sanity. I cannot risk that on her. What more, she too has a mother she needs to think of.. Having only a younger brother (also living with me)... it lies squarely on her shoulders to take care of her mother in old age. How do the two of us.. both take in our mothers... both having psychiatric conditions? That's the real question.

Of course, in just a slit second.. all these thoughts ran through my head... as I kept silent against my friends rebuke. Over the years, I have learned to appreciate and accept these directness from people not afraid to say it as it is... though it has never been easy on the ears.. or the heart. Its better, and its when you know someone genuinely cares for you enough to say the right thing. (Though those who do the rebuking don't always take it well vice versa). She must have wondered what was behind my silence.. Maybe she thought she had overstepped the border.. But I was only gratefull for what she said.. even as I kept quiet.. ears burning.... feeling guilty and shameful at trying to defend myself....

I kept silent, and decided not to defend myself with any the things I thought above... Instead.. I just allowed her to continue rebuking me. I guess in some ways.. I felt that she was right..and that I deserved it..... I could reason and debate... I could argue and justify...... and perhaps even win and out talk her but nothing is more powerful and piercing than simple timeless truths. I had not done my part as a son. It is a disgraceful thing sending your mother to a home. How would my mother answer others when they asked her where she stayed?

Sigh... Lord forgive me for not honouring my mother. Give me the wisdom to see what is right.. and the strength to carry out what must be done.

Ob-la Di, Ob-la Da

2009-02-07T02:27:00.001+08:00

You know that song by the beatles? Ob-la di, 0b-la da, like goes on.. bra.... Well, I guess life does go on, whether we like it or not. I had one of the most special days in recent months when I spent the entire day with a whole bunch of friends who were back from overseas for the Chinese New Year. Since in a way, I was playing host, I spent the entire day with them, from the morning at 10am up till 11pm at night when they were due to fly off back.

These were friends that I made during my time in Sheffield, many of whom, upon leaving Sheffield, I never really expected to see again. That was slightly more than a year ago. But boy what a difference a year can make sometimes. You kwe now how you associate a certain group of people with a certain time of your life.. well, these people were, and will always remind me of my time in Sheffield. They were the people that welcomed me, befriended me, upon their homes and lives to me, and made my stay a memorable one, even if it was just for such a short time. So, when I suddenly found myself sitting amongst all of them, right here in the heart of KL, it just felt so weird, but in a good way. I frankly told all of them "It feel like the entire Sheffield has come to KL." Which may not be literally true, but to me, these people were everything that it represented. I sat down with the entire group for a few hours trying to squeeze conversations with as many people as possible. To my surprise, quite a bit has changed. Some got married... some were getting married... some had to return to Malaysia and couldn't return, others finished their studies and it was time to come home. But mostly it was that many had left, either back to Malaysia, or had moved away.

For some reason, it was quite sad to me.. Not that it made any difference to my own life, but somehow, the ideal in my head that these people were part and parcel of Sheffield was gone. I always imagined that if I ever went back to there, it would be to see those people.. but now I know even they aren't there anymore. So what would be the reason to return then? Its then that the fully realization hits..... I didn't fall in love with just the place... I fell in love with the people. No doubt the place was nice, but without the people, it would be just another pretty place. I decided to quit rambling on about going back a long time ago... because I realized that what i was longing for was not a life there.. but a life away from the one I had...the one with real life problems...... problems with no simple solutions.

But anyway, back to the topic. There were 2 friend who shared their feelings with me about the crossroads they were facing in their life. One was a guy, who finally upon finishing his Ph.D had to make his journey home for good. He was there for 7 years, from the day he first stepped in as an undergraduate, to the day he walked out Dr. XXX Ph.D. He made a life there, came to know God there, grew up and matured from a rebellious and rageful teen to active church leader and caring brother to all. It was the place he had blossomed into who he was today. I could see the heartbreak showing on his face. He had just returned with everyone else to Malaysia before the new year. It pained him to know that in the end, they would all board the plane back to Sheffield, but he would have to stay. His father made sure of that by keeping his passport for him! (I guess the father knew his son too well). Given the chance, he would have wanted to stay indefinitely. He admitted to me, in his most selfish thoughts, I wished that all of them would quickly return back to Malaysia soon. Again, it wasn't so much the place... it was the people. But life goes on, and even if he stayed back, others would leave. His time there was up, and it was time for a new chapter in his life. But no one likes change. Especially when it is from something you truly love and enjoyed.

The other, was a woman.. Spent her childhood in Malaysia, attended school in New Zealand, and now works in Sheffield.. for about 2 years now. She had come back a whole 1 week earlier than the rest, to spend time with her family. I guess you could say this sister was more of a free spirit. As much as she loved Sheffield, she shared that she somehow felt it was time for a change. Not that she had a definite plan of what she wanted, only that it was not this. On one hand, her heart longed to go back to New Zealand, which was like home to her, where all her best friends were (again with the people)... where life was good. Then there was also Malaysia, where her family was. She absolutely adored her niece and newphews, and kept on repeating how much she missed them, even before she left. When I picked her up from the airport, she asked me point blank "Is Malaysia a good place to live in?"... I was taken aback..... "Well... its not a BAD place to live in" I said... How typical of me not to answer the question... Her parents had made yet another plea to her to move back to Malaysia, closer to home.. closer to mom and dad... and though it was not the first time she heard it, this time, it felt different...This time, she was actually considering it... maybe because in her heart.. maybe.. just maybe.... this might be what she wanted too.But the fear of the unknown was there.. hence the question. Just follow your heart I said.. Malaysia is great.... and so is the UK.. but you wont be happy unless you know what you are looking for.

So there I was, sitting the entire day chatting with these 2 people.... both at crossroads.... We were all going to the airport. One was leaving but wishing she could stay... the other was staying.. but wishing he could leave. As we stood in the lift, I couldn't help but point out th irony of it all as I stood in betwen the 2 of them. I pointed to the one leaving and said "you wished you could stay"... and pointing to the one staying "and you wished you could go"...... They managed a half smile.. the irony was not lost to them too..... Oh well.. I guess life has to go on....

Sobbing in cinemas

2009-01-16T13:41:00.002+08:00

This is so out of date, but I've been meaning to write this post for a while now. Sometime last year (yes, told you it was long), I went with my girlfriend to watch this show "10 promises to my dog"... It was a Japanese show feature the life of a dog with its 14 year old owner.The girls mother, herself dying of cancer (or something) told her daughter to make these 10 promises to her dog, as a commitment to keeping a dog till its dying day, though in actual fact, the mother was trying to convey what was in her own heart. Quite a touching movie actually, and I agreed to watch it only because I had a soft spot for dogs, and the directors previous movie, Quill (also about a dog) was so touching it secretly moved me to tears! But lets just pretend I never said that OK.

So walking into the cinema, I had a rough idea what was to come. My girlfriend was just completely charmed by the poster of the ever cute dog poster above. Talk about effective marketing. Everyone else was busy watching the latest blockbuster, so the cinema was pretty empty, only filled in two rows. Not surprising, since the movie is in Japanese only. What WAS surprising was I was one of only 2 guys in the cinema. Oh boy, I've had it this time.

Now, I've never been a fan of horror movies. I go to the cinema to be entertained, not spooked. I don't like sad themed movies too. I go to be cheered up. But this was like the epitome of sad movies. I mean, the mom dies in the first 30 minutes, and you just KNOW the dog will die at the end of the movie. So I was battling how to follow the movie without getting all chocked up with the little poochie dies!

So when the part finally came.... "sniff.... sniff" to my left.... "sniff sniff...." to my front and back, and lo be hold, to my left.... my teary girlfriend sniffing too! Gosh..... man.... I gotta hold it together... Stop watching... think of something else... do math.... grocery list... hot women.... exploding tanks... anything but that girl and her dad crying over the aging dog, finally taking its last breathe while reminiscing of a its life.. sometimes loved.. sometimes neglected... at a time forgotten.

I managed to stop short of tearing.... but I was fully sunken into my seat by then.. but being amidst 2 dozen sobbing women.... I was determined not to look anywhere left or right! But I was wondering if that other guy was crying or not. This was supposed to be a sad movie, not a horror movie... and nothing scares me more than women crying! Oh boy..

That was the last sad movie I watched... and I wont want to watch another anytime soon!

Car Accident

2009-01-12T07:52:00.004+08:00

Damn it! And I thought this year was supposed to be a good year! Bugger... bugger... bugger.... And to think I got this for going into work on a Saturday! I thought hard work and diligence is supposed to be rewarded! Not rammed in the a$$ by some 40' trailer. Damn.... And all HE got was this small itchy dent!

All of this just 2 weeks away from Chinese new year! Damn...

Resolutions for the New Year

2009-01-10T02:49:00.001+08:00

I know its so cliche to make new years resolutions, and yes it is already 10 days into the new year so I'm kinda behind. I've been doing lots of thinking, but very little posting, and perhaps have been less than faithful in updating my blog. So here are some of the things I resolve to do this year. Some are pretty standard:

1. Loose some freaking weight!

This has to be perhaps the most cliched of them all. Everyone complains about this, but I really need to loose some mid span.

2. Get some fashion sense & a new hair cut

I am embarrassed to admit, I have been sporting the same haircut since I was in high school. Its the same 'good boy' barber cut that I have been having since.. I dont know.. kindergarden? PLUS, I have almost ZERO fashion sense. Just goes to show how outdate and complete uncool I am eh? I think its high time I progress from the t-shirt and jeans to something more updated.

3. Blog more honestly

Something doesn't feel right any more in the way I blog anymore. It feels less raw and frank. I think to some extent, I have subconsciously self cencored on some of the things I write, to somehow 'fit' into the overal blog that has slowly grown in size over the years. which is crazy really. So this year, its back to basics. Write what I feel, write what I think. I will swear if I want to, I will whine if I want to. Problem sometimes is that I sometimes start to reason with myself over my feelings, asking "Should I be feeling this way? Should I write such things?" Worry that later when my anger or frustration or whatever is gone, I might no longer mean what I wrote. Also, I've been holding out on writing the more edgy thoughts & stuff that that I feel like letting off my chest. Well, to hell with that. This year its no holds barred baby, and I will strive to write whatever, however shocking or crazy it may seem.

4. Do some crazy stuff

I think I am getting too old too soon. While most young adults struggle to keep a good head on their shoulders, I think I am suffering from the opposite. I feel that perhaps I have been too much of a goody two shoes. While I know I need to be grown up and mature given my own family struggles, I do feel there are things you can only do while you are still young. Heck, I haven't even been adventurous enough to change my freaking hair style! What does that tell you? I think I maybe I did too much growing up that I accidentally started growing OLD, at least in mentality. So this year, I need to grow younger.

Happy New Year 2009

2008-12-30T19:43:00.001+08:00

I can't believe its the end of the year again. Why does they year always seem to sneak up behind you and pass you by just when you aren't looking? A quick status check on all the things that are happening in my life, Despite all the wave of bad things happening of late, I suppose I have to conclude that at this very moment in my life, things aren't too bad.

My dad FINALLY moved out and started divorce proceedings with his wife.. Yes, the skinny-selfabsorbed-loveless-down-right-evil b**ch is finally out of his life. Or, at least, its the start of that end. Sorry if I seem a bit harsh, but truth be told, that woman has been nothing but misery and suffering since day one. I openly told my father that I was glad he was walking away from that disaster of a marriage. It had already eaten up so much of him, eroded him and made him into some bitter and broken old man, to the point that one day, I just had to confess to him that he was no longer the same man I knew growing up. He started looking for a job again, but into his 50's, its hard trying to find anyone willing to take him in, what with the global recession already underway. But still, its a good progress. Even in his 50's, I believe it's not too late to start picking up your life again.

Brother finally left his job and got a job in a hospital as a marketing executive. Not sure if that is exactly his cup of tea, but oh well, better than his last job in manufacturing. After what seems like a year squatting in his pastors house, he has finally gotten a place of his own. Funny, the timing couldn't been any better, since my dad was just at the brink of walking out of his marriage and needed a place to stay anyway. They moved into an apartment about 10 minutes away from me. In what would be the biggest news for my brother this year, HE FINALLY GOT A GIRLFRIEND. I never imagined I would need to say it, but ITS ABOUT TIME! I had always been somewhat uncomforable at the fact that my brother was already into his mid twentys and never even had a girlfriend. I am not sure how or when exactly (he was very hush hush about it, being first love and all) but he finally found himself a rather pleasant and friendly girlfriend, whom I am already preparing to be my sister in law (or maybe I am just jumping the gun here). My father complains that he's all devoted to her 110% now, but hey what do you expect right?

My mom... aah... what to say about my mom. Where to begin really. We put her in a nursing home, just 10 minutes away from my place actually. Its a home solely for women suffering from mental illness. So I guess you could say she fits the bill perfectly. As far as I can tell, she seems to be OK in the place. Unlike in other places, they leave her to her own devices, so she's free to lie around the whole day and not doing anything. She finally did get off using a wheelchair, but she's still heavily dependent on her walker. She got the final few stiches on her head removed, and the hair is slowly growing back. In a month or two, you would never had guess she was hit by a lorry and just nearly missed death. In a rather ironic and rather cruel kind of way, the accident was in way good, since she can no longer just take off and run away so easily again. I brought her for a CT scan, and it showed that she has a small fracture in her lower back bone, just missing some nerve points. The pain she felt a few weeks ago has subsided and from the looks of it, she might even have a full recovery in a few months.

And what about my darling girlfriend? Well, she last quite a bit of weight ever since taking this meal replacement drink and herbal tea.It seems one of the key things about loosing weight is actually drinking enough water and eating right. Most of us think of dieting as not eating at all, but according to her new found wisdom, its more about eating the right foods, in the right amounts, at the right time. I must say, she's been looking in quite good shape compared to recent years. She took up roasting and baking recently, and through badgering, cajoling, persuading and lots hinting, she somehow managed to convince me to buy a small over for her. She's been starting to make shepards pie, and being the official food taster, I cant say its too good for my belly either.

Anyway, sorry for not posting more often. The phone cables in my apartments were stolen by vandals and our entire block of apartments have been without a phone line or internet for the past few weeks and will probably continue for a few more weeks. At the moment, yours truly is sitting in Starbucks, sitting coffee, and finally spending some alone time just mucking around and doing my own thing. Since I missed the dateline, happy belated Christmas to one and all.. and oh ya... Happy new year too. Its really amazing how a year can pass by just like that, and sometimes you really start to wonder things can slip you by so fast... but in the end, I think the best way to live this life, is one day at a time...

Happy new year friend.

Bad Wave @ year end

2008-12-07T01:07:00.001+08:00

There seems to be a wave of bad things happening recently.

My grandmother suffered a stroke recently, her second actually. From what I heard, her first stroke came when she was in her 20's while giving birth to my uncle. She's over eighty now, and when it happened, she was staying with my aunt. My father was there the day it happened, and she was starting to slur in her speech a lot. By the time my father left, he got a call that she couldn't take at all, and ther rushed her to the hospital. She was in the hospital for about 3 days, and sadly she can no longer talk, eat or walk around. Doctors said that the blood clot in her brains are too many and to small to do anything about. If it were just a single major clot they would usually recommend surgery. But in my grandmothers case, the only option is to give her some very specific medication. Problem is that the medicine is quite harmful and 10~15% dont survive it, and given my grandmother's health, the chances look even slimer. That means that she will pretty much remain the way she is for what's left of her life, unable to walk, talk or eat.

My uncle suffered a heart attack barely a week later. He had been having chest pains the entire day. Her wife (my father's sister) was staying with my grandmother and uncle, still recooperating from her surgery to remove part of her liver due to cancer. Not suspecting much, my cousin brought him to a nearby clinic. The doctor seemed to dismiss the case too casually, and just prescribed regular aspirings and such, suspecting was just some sort of minor ailment. But 4 hours later, late into the evening, his condition seemed to only worsen. They brought him back to the same clinic, and this time, after consultation with a more senior medical officer, they asked my cousins to rush him to a hospital immediately. It was only then that they realised he was having a heart attack. In the hospital, the doctors told my cousins that had they come in any later, my uncle would have been beyond saying. The first few hours of a heart attack are critical to the outcome of treatment.

A friend of mine urgently flew all the way back from Australia, just to see her grandmother, who suffered some sort of shock / complications due to diabetes, and for 2 straight weeks, she put in day shifts and 12 hour night shifts just sitting by her grandmothers side, just in case she passes away. Doctors could not even estimate how long she had to stay in hospital, and the entire family were unsure how long this would stay this way. Her grandma was also disable and bed ridden from this latest medical episode.

Another friend of mine was warded into the intensive care unit (still there) due to complications to her asthma disease. It got so bad that her breathing was abstructed and she had to be rushed to hospital. Just barely a year ago, she just went through an operation to clear her airway so that she could breathe properly again. Maybe it was the stress, maybe it was the environment, but whatever it was, her condition suddenly became critical and she was warded, and from what I know, she had asthma attacks on a daily basis. Every single day, concerned friends would forward text messages with latest updates on how she was doing. None of us have had a chance to visit because of her extremely fragile condition, the doctors and family discourages us to come until she is better.

Truth be told, it seem like some sort of bizzare wave of negativity. How can all these things happen within the course of just a few weeks? They say there are no such things as coincidences. And having four major medical incidences known to me from within my immediate social circle certainly seems like something beyong a mere coincidence.

Graphology Test - My Handwrting

2008-11-13T19:47:00.004+08:00

Here an interesting thing I did. I took an online graphology at here which basically test interprets your handwriting and tells you a bit about yourself! Here was my result... surprisingly accurate (at least I thinks so):

You are enthusiastic when you begin with a venture or task but lose heart and hope even before the task is accomplished.
You are active and basically impatient due to which you act impulsively without much consideration. You may also be prejudiced.
You are an easygoing kind of person, but that does not mean that you are least concerned. You seek recreation and work on equal scales.
You maintain stability while handling money.
You are cautious, such that you think several times before taking an action or starting a new venture.
You project just a part of yourself to the world, letting them know your ideas and thoughts a limited extend.
You work with the most-favourable pace and hence, do not have to conciliate between the quality and speed.
You are a dependable and trustworthy person.
You maintain balance between your capability and ambition which helps you to shun difficulties in achieving your goal.
You handle criticism with your cool temperament and dignity.
You have reasonable keenness in the task you undertake.
You like to be in the limelight and center of attraction in the crowd.
You are least concerned about gratifying the world and rather look forward to your own contentment through the completion of your task.
You are thoughtful.
You are an extrovert and hence, like to socialize with the people.
You use your agile hands very often and are nimble in doing mechanical work.
You believe in living life to the fullest and consider amusement and bliss as very important.
You lack vital strength of mind and will to accomplish you work.
You are flexible and practical which works to your advantage. The balance outlook of yours helps you adapt yourself according to the crowd.

Secrets Exposed!

2008-11-09T22:57:00.002+08:00

How would you feel if, all your deepest darkest secrets, your most intimate thoughts, and all the crazy, ridiculous, angry and frustrated thoughts... were suddenly all laid out in the open? There would be no hiding.. there would be no denying... everything that you held privately in your heart and in your mind would be exposed and laid bare for all to see.....

I was out just catching up with old friends over a cup of teh tarik... she was at home.. wanting to watch a movie on my laptop.. I get a message from her

"We need to talk..."
"What is the matter?.."
"I read your blog...."

SHIT................

Now, I always knew that blogging was a double edge sword... For all these years, I knew that everything I wrote could be read and seen by anyone... but I also knew that chances are...no one would ever read them. I was counting more on the latter rather than the former when I continued pouring my heart out and writing all sorts of things here. Anyone could read them.... but no one was really supposed to.... at least no one from my immediate surroundings... not the people that make up the cast of this real life drama of mine.....

I felt violated and intruded upon. This was my deepest and most private thoughts... these were things that I wrote to vent my anger, to release some frustration, to let out some of those pent up feelings. There is a reason those things were written here and not said out straight to others.. because there were meant to be a private reflection of what is going on inside...

"Now I know how you really feel about me..." she said.

Gosh... what on earth did she read? Heck, even I can't remember what I wrote. Most of the things I wrote were just to get it off my chest and that was it... In your moments of anger, do you ever say things you don't mean? Like when you are angry or frustrated, you say and think things that later, when your nerves are calm again you think "that was so silly of me!" Not that I did not mean the things I wrote... I probably did when I wrote it..... but without knowing how, when and why I wrote these things.. all that is said is taking out of perspective. I don't know which post she read, which paragraph, or which line.... but what ever it was, it was not meant for her ears...

I sounded like a desperate kid, trying to defend myself for writing some graffiti in the school toilets.

I felt a surge of panic.... of anger..... why did she read what was on my laptop? After knowing what it was, couldn't you stop? As it turns out.. she did not read my post online.. only the most recent post that was still there on my computer.... but still.. what was there was enough to do damage to our relationship.

She felt like I have been hiding and lying to her about my true feelings on certain issues... I felt totally violated and without anymore personal space.. Like all my dirty linen being hanged outside for all to see.... To control the damage, I tried reassuring her that what was written, was in fact just pure venting... everyone gets frustrated... everyone says things out of anger... some scream it out on the spot and say hurtful things to their partners... I get on my computer and write in my blog... thats all....

Hours and hours of arguing... she basically said she just never wants to read or see those post again. Similiarly, I never wanted her to read those post. We just wanted to move away from this incident, though there was no way she would forget what she just read.

That was 3 weeks ago.. and since then, it has taken me a while before willing to take up the keyboard and blog again. It just made me start to wonder just how wise I have been keeping up this blog.. 320 blog post in 4 years. Should I stop? Should I continue? Just going through my own archives is quite a chore. What if all the things I write out in the open like this comes back to haunt me?

I don't even remember when I wrote my blog description... but it reads

"This blog chronicles my life since entering college, with tonnes of recollections from my past, thoughts of the present & hopes for the future. Most of the time, you'll read about the people i love and my struggles in trying to piece together a broken home, dealing with depression, growing up, friendship, love, frustration and occasionally pure nonsense"

At the time, I was just entering college. It was a new phase in my life....This blog signified the start of that line.. I never would have imagined would be so challenging. I struggled, I foughts.. and yes I cried too.... Sometimes, it felt like a tribute to my mother rather than about myself, since many of my post concern her.... and as I read through all the things I wrote, and can see how I have changed over they years..

Most people start a blog with a very specific reason and I just start to wonder just how relevant maintaining this blog would be. Having my girlfriend accidentally bump into my post didn't help either. Seeing how I posted less and less recently, I contemplated stopping all together. Plus, if I stopped, there was no danger of someone accidentally reading my post again.

But looking at all the things I wrote.. and how it has helped me preserve so many precious memories and emotions... even if I don't blog as often anymore, I don't think I could stop. Maybe a new blog or something.. I don't know...I'll let you know when I figue it out.

Cambodia Pictures

2008-11-09T21:48:00.003+08:00

Sorry if the video's not working.. here's a compilation of the photos

Holiday to Cambodia Oct'08

2008-11-08T21:53:00.003+08:00

Alright, looks like my total average is down to 1 post a month! Gosh....

A lot of things have been happening of late, but I guess just to keep things on a lighter note, here are some pictures of my holiday to Cambodia last month! Growing up, taking holidays and travelling were never really part of my family culture, but after doing it once, I think I want to make it as frequent as possible! Enjoy

Found!

2008-10-15T00:53:00.001+08:00

Sorry for not posting for such a long long time. It seems almost like I only start posting whenever there is some sort of update on my mother.

We found her...... or at least, we know where she is. We got a call from our auntie (her sister) up in Penang. She's in the hospital, in the general ward in our home town again. Still sketchy on the details, but she met some sort of accident and was admitted into hospital. I don't know if it is a serious or minor injury.. only that she is in hospital. I don't know if I should sight a sound of relief or worry again.

Just last week, after finally giving up hope that my mother would contact us, my brother and I made a missing person's report at the nearby police station. They could not believe that 2 sons would take a full 3 weeks to even before report that their mother was missing. I guess to a stranger hearing it for the first time, its hard to conceive why we could even wait so long. 24 hours they said, then you can straight away make missing persons report. Yes, but you don't know my mother. As we were making the report, my brother quietly said to me "Actually, I am a bit worry. She usually calls within a few days after leaving." ...... I looked at him and said I was more than a bit, I was VERY worried... and we crossed eyes for a few moments.. and in one of those rare show of emotions, I could see that my brother was feeling the same way I was. We both feared the worst... God knows what has happened this time.

I spent the last weeks talking a lot to my friend, and to my girlfriend, hearing my own words bouncing off them as I spoke.... and I sounded to myself as if everything was just another stranger episode in my life.. but that night making the police report, hearing my brother say exactly what was in my own heart, I knew there was no hiding how I truly felt any more. I was terrified and felt completely helpless. My thoughts started taking a life of its own. Where is she? Why hasn't she called? Is she even ALIVE? What if she got mugged / robbed again. Is she sleeping on the streets? What if she gets raped? Worst, what if she gets murdered and her body unidentified? The more I thought of it.. the more hopeless it started to feel. She almost always called after running away. This time it as different. It felt different... I started to asked around, asking my girlfriend (who is a nurse) how hospitals deal with un-identified corpses which were unclaimed....... wondering if she never turns up again, how would I even begin searching for her in hospitals? Its crazy thought I know, but it was something that seemed perfectly plausible given the circumstances. Our fears always play on our thoughts, and my worst fear was that I would loose my mother not only to death.. but to the unknown, never knowing where, when or how she was lost to me in this life.

Fast forward back to today, I received that call from my brother in the middle of dinner with my colleagues. We were all stuck in Bintulu again on our project. What should we do? he asked me. We discussed and my brother offered to drive up to find out what happened to her, and to bring her back to KL again to be admitted before we decided where she will be placed permanently. I gave him my blessing and told him to drive carefully. For the second time, I swore to myself to do everything I could to never let her out of my hands again if this trip was successful.

I guess God has not forsaken me after all.... Thank you.

Have You Seen This Woman?

2008-09-19T06:33:00.001+08:00

Sigh........ for a moment there, I truly thought things were beginning to change, and that for the first time, things were finally going to be different... that a change was coming.

But I guess as sure as the sun rises and sets, history has a way of repeating itself. After nearly 2 months of full time care in the hospital, the doctor finally decided that my mother was ready to be discharged. She has responded very well to the test drug that was used for the study, and she after discharge she was meant to go into phase ii of the programme, where she would continue to use the drug for 2 years under close supervision from the doctor. We decided to put her in a nursing home run by a this Christian organisation, who only seemed too willing to help us out. Like I said earlier, I had my doubts as to whether they were really capable or prepared to look after someone like my mother. But we went ahead anyway, because in reality we didn't have that many choices or money to choose from.

The weekend that she was meant to be discharged, I was being sent to Frankfurt, Germany for a week on a work trip. My brother discharged her, and I promised her that I would come visit her before I left on Sunday. She even called to make sure I was coming the day before I was due to arrive. As expected, the home usually tries to get the inhabitants active and involved, which meant taking them out to church services etc.. now mind you..... they are more used to just dealing with regular old folks instead of 'specia folks' like my mother. Come sunday morning, 1 hour before I was supposed to pick her up for lunch..

'Hello.... this is XXX from XXX home..... ei, your marder ar... missing oredi leh... we brought her to church, then she say she wan to go toilet... after that she never come back. We try looking everywhere also cannot find her...."

Shucks ma....... why did you have to go and do this again?

I could almost visualize what happened.... she went to the toilet never intending to run away... but as she went and realised that she was alone and no one was watching.... the impulse came to her.. "Go.." and just like that she went. Despite what others might suspect, I know that my mother never planned or schemed it... she really just did it on an impulse. She saw the opportunity, and she did it without hesitation.

She was formally enrolled in the study drug programme, and she was obliged to faithfully take the medication and follow up with the doctors on its effects. One of its requirements was that she be released into a stable and proper environment that would ensure faithful medication. For 4 weeks in the hospital, with every visit, I saw my mother gradually get better and better... her ragged face was gone.. her blister and wounds healed.. her skin smoother again.... and she no longer looked like a bag of bones. I told myself that I would do everything I can to prevent her from ever sleeping on the streets and wondering around homeless again. I took a picture of her every single day she was with us.. from the day I picked her up from the streets to the last day I saw her in the ward.. happily eating dinner, offering to share with me, laughing and joking.

Just 2 days after being discharged from hospital...she runs away again.. God knows where she is right now.. and I... I have failed spectacularly in carrying out the duty I set myself to complete the day I finally found my mother again....

Sigh...... Ma, please just come home...

Chocolate, Beers & Babies.....

2008-08-27T05:55:00.001+08:00

Sorry I have not posted in a while.

Last Monday morning, I woke up and went to work as usual... I figured I could take it easy for the week, since my boss was busy on his vacation in Beijing. One week in office without the boss! No pressure! Or so I though.

1 hour in office, and I receive a call from him, all the way from china. "Can't this guy take a break from work? You're on vacation for God's sake! " I wonder to myself... in any case, despite being hundreds of miles away from office, he still manages to worry about work... and that was when he dropped the bomb shell on me...

"I think you better to to Brussels...."

" Are you sure sir? When do you want me to go? "

"As soon as you can. The next flight out. In fact, you can even fly out tonight."

"Erm... OK. How long do you you think I should be there?"

"You just stay about a week first. We'll see how it goes from there."

I didn't know whether to get excited, laugh or feel upset. I get to go to Europe! What's not to like right? Sure, its for work, but at least I get to go to Europe again! Roughly a year after I was there! I'd be staying for a week, so that would mean I would have some time to soak in the country right? On the other hand, my boss was sending me there alone. I

was going to EUROPE alone. Nevermind if it was an english speaking country.. But Belgium is divided into the Flemish, French and German speaking folk.... they all seem to hate each other, and none of them spoke english... Well, at least not most of them. PLUS.... what kind of boss gives you 24hrs notice to pack your backs and go to Europe for a week anyway? Flights need to be arranged, hotels need to be booked, and I needed to be given some money to survive there. You wouldn't expect me to survive there a week with my own money right? Plus I had a mother in hospital to care for. I can't just take off and go missing for a week right?

Anyway, to make a long story short, I was on the next flight out to Amsterdam by Tuesday night. I was supposed to take the train into Brussels since there was no direct flight. Great... now I had to go pick up some Dutch also just to get around. i didnt exactly feel confident travelling with one large suitcase and a laptop bag... in a foreign land half way around the world... alone.. not speaking / reading the local language... AND going into Brussel... which many regards as probable the pick-pocket capital of Europe. It was different the last time.

The last time, I was a student, I was going to an English country, and I was going there with friends. This time, it was more an impersonal business trip more than anything else... I arrive early wednesday morning, checked into the hotel, and to my own surprise, after a 12 hour flight, still had the energy to go straight to office. I survived. I didn't get mugged or pick pocketed & my luggage were all intact......

I did eventually see more of the country, courtesy of my host.. who spend the Saturday bringing me with his family around the outskirts of the city, visiting farms.. cities... churches... etc that show the history of Belgium. Its all about the beers here.. and every single famous beer is named after some town / village and more often than not, was originally made by monks.. I playfully remarked "So that means all your beer money goes to your monks huh?' But I guess a lot of the country side resembled what I saw in Sheffield last year.. lost of crops. lots of cows.. and lost of sheep... Immediately upon landing, I could feel the difference. Life here was different.. the focus isnt so much on work commitments and business performance. People took their weekends off to go hunting, They went mountain biking among the hills.. They laze in the sun enjoying their beer. it's summer anyway..

I visited the small town of Dinant (pronounced Deenoo)... went on a boat ride, and learnt up on the history of some bridge that was used to defend the city from dutch / french / english armies trying to invade. I suppose here and in all other european countries.. they like to talk about their warring past. They actually enjoy recounting to the public the various wars and battles that defined Europe. In Malaysia, we learn about migrates coming to Malaya.. of struggles for independance, of Sultanates & kingdoms... in Europe.. they seem to enjoy talking about who's king was who's uncle, married who and did what... Can you imagine a bunch of tourist comprising french, dutch, germans, belgians and all listening to a tour guide who vividly explain how some conquering french king tied belgian villagers 2 & 2 together before throwing them off into the river? Its exactly at the bridge in the picture on the left by the way. How do you take that? You enjoy that? Anway, I guess there are still lots of things about Europeans I need to understand.

I went into town.. and since I was in Belgium.. I am OBLIGED to do a few things among them:

1. Chocolates

It would almost be a sin not to buy home any chocolates.. since every other person told me Belgian chocolates are to die for. So I duly obliged and went to some of the renowned chocolate makes and bought a few for the folks back home. Not much of a chocolate fan myself, I just tried a few bites.. How did it taste? Well.... forgive the tackiness.. but it still pretty much tasted like chocolate.

2. Beer

This one went without saying. Even when I had no intention of trying any beers, this was practically forced on me. I never lked the taste of beer that much, and having tasted the chocolate... how different could beer be right? Chocolate is chocolate... and beer is beer.... My host went to great lengths to explain to me the history of the various beer around.. and showing me the original brewery where the monks first made them. I supposed many of them were beer connoisseurs if there was ever such a term. But to my pleasant surprise.. I actually did taste a few beers that didn't taste so bad. Unlike the rest of the world, some variety of beers like Orvial are brewed fresh by the monks still.. unlike the mass produced ones we have in the supermarket... and are actually quote flavourful.

3. Famous land marks

On this one, did visit the Grand Place ..... where i suppose grand events take place... basically a square with really really old and grand buildings surrounding the place. And there was this pissing baby (crude I know.. but I forgot the name) that everyone seem to be taking picture of.. You know how Holland has that small statue of the little mermaid.. well.. Belgium has theirs... and its a pissing baby. Again, I was extremely amused as to what this little baby was all about. I didnt really get a chance to read up on this story after my 24 hour notice to fly here.. and wikipedia didn't tell me anything. As I stood by the side, watching everyone else take a picture oof this statue.. i want to ask some people next to me what the big deal was all about anyway.... but decided I better just play tourist instead of intellect. Then there is the Atomium... which I have yet to visit. It was built 50 years ago as th symbol of Belgium... from what I heard.. 50 years ago,. building such an architecture seemed next to imposible, and at the time, it was a real technical accomplishment. So London has the big ben, Paris has the Eiffel, New York has the statue of liberty, San Francisco has the golden gate bridge.... so Brussels decided they needed an identity too.... and its the atomium. I guess suddenly I understood why its so important that KL had its KLCC & KL Towers....

Sorry, this is the only shot I have to do, taken miles away

So that was a week ago, and tomorrow I spend my last day here before flying back to Bolehland on Thursday. Friday is my girlfriends convocation, saturday is her birthday and sunday is our national independance day (merdeka!).. So that would mean hardly a minutes rest! Oh well.. at least I can sleep during the flight.

Testing testing.....

2008-07-31T10:11:00.001+08:00

1 week into my mothers hospitalisation, & things seem to be working out pretty OK.....

The doctors have proposed my mother be put on a trial run of a new drug, currently going through testing before being approved by the FDA. It's supposed to be a superior anti psychotic drug that assures effectives, yet producing little or no side effects, or so the pharmaceutical company tells us. The programme is being supervised by University Hospital and is headed by some Professor who will facilitate the programme.

The hospital gave me a 17 page long Informed Consent Form for my mother so sign, detailing all the medications & observations that will be done during the t6 week long trail. I read it long and hard, and discussed it with my brother and some other concerned people, and the way I see it, some of the pros and cons:

Pros:

Full cost of hospitalzation for the next 6 weeks fully covered by the Pharmaceutical company.
Free extensive full body medical check up for my mother, including ECG, full blood test, urine test, psychiatric evaluation, movement test & medical care as long as she is on the programme.
New cutting edge that (supposedly) will be superior to what is on the market, with successful test already completed in the US, Europe, and only now, Asia.
Mother will be watched like a hawk, every observation written down, and we will have full access to these information.
Reduce my financial burden & give me adequate time to fine a good nursing home for my mother.
For a change, doctors will be interested to see her progress, instead of us chasing after doctor for a remedy.

Cons:

God knows what sort of effect this will have on her. After all, its not FDA approved.
What about any long term effects if the drug proves harmful? The Pharmaceutical company is only covering immediate medical treatments.
It IS an experiment, and if un-effective, we will just have to go back to square one and start over again - waste of our time, and not fair to my mother.
Dosage is random i.e. there are 4 possible drug strengths that will be used. More on this below.

Now, you tell me, how do the odds look?

Ready, the great thing about it all is just 3 points. My mother will be receiving full & diligent medical & psychological care & observation. She will get a full body check up, which is darn expensive if we did it ourselves on the outside. And lastly, the drug us FREE, and supposed to be the latest on the market. So far, most people I have ask think that we should go ahead.

But maybe its just the uneasy feeling of threading on unfamiliar ground, but I still have that nagging feeling of uneasiness. Just imagining the worst case scenarios, what will happen if the drug turns out to be harmful? Permanently? No doubt, the company will nurse her back to a stable condition before returning her to us, but what if she can't go back to normal? But realistically, she has been neglecting medication for almost a year now, and I suppose things can only go up with her taking medication. Better some sort of medication than no medication at all.

But the idea of enrolling my mother seems to be a little cold & heartless. As per the programme, the test subject will be randomly assigned 1 of 4 possible dosages. Tablets with 120mg of the compound, 80mg, 40 mg or none at all, called a placebo dose. So basically, during the 6 weeks of observation, they would have no idea what they are giving my mother. It could be a proper dose, or it could be a placebo, in which case, she would show no improvement and be taken out of the programme. The placebo dose is supposed to be sort of a control I guess, kind of like what you need during a experiment in the science lab. After the 6 weeks, if effective, we would be enrolled in a 22 months programme, where she will continue to receive the new drug, at a regulated dosage this time. Hopefully by the end of the 2 years, the drug will have already been released into the market.

In all fairness, I do not think the doctors, or the nurses or the government are being crazy unscrupulous in allowing a test medicine to be given patients. In fact, it is perfectly common prior to a drug being released into the market. I took the whole weekend to finally come to a decision my heart felt comfortable with. We will go through with the programme, with the hope that it would indeed be effective for my mother. After spending half my life battling this problem, its high time we tried something different. Other drugs seems to work, but only for a while.....It is with this hope for the future that we commit this decision....

Was lost... now found.

2008-07-22T09:57:00.001+08:00

What a weekend it was.....

Friday, my brother and I both received calls from my mother again.. she was in KL again... after weeks and weeks of calling us from melacca and fearing the worst for her, she was finally back in familiar territory again. We knew she was somewhere in KL, but she couldn't spell exactly where she was.. she still was not in the right state of mind...

My heart was disturbed throughout the day, and through the night.... couldn't sleep much. How is anyone supposed to get a good night sleep knowing your mother was one somewhere nearby on the street? I sat up the entire night, just looking at old photos and videos from my journeys last year in the UK. Those were really happy times for me...... with little care for all this sort of problems.... guess I was just trying to think of anything else except of my mother... trying in desperation to inject some cheer into my gloomy heart. It worked for the most part.. and I stayed up till 6.00am just working on a slide show I was trying to compile of my times there... When I finally felt too tired.. I switched off the lights and went to sleep.

An hour later... I woke up. Awaken by the sound of my phone ringing.. Who could be ringing at such an early hour on Saturday morning? Of course. What was I thinking? It was my mother. "Where are you?" I keep asking her. "I'm at a signboard, next to a seven eleven" she said. That could have been anywhere. I didn't quite know whether to start looking or just to sit tight. But somehow, whether it was God at work, or just by sheer dumb luck, someone gave help in a time of need. I received a call from a stranger. A lady. She said she was with my mother, and that I should come get her. I think she was a passer by and my mother sort of just flagged her down. She told me she would leave my mother and one of the train station in KL, on Jalan Hang Tuah. I said Ok, and left immediately.

I wasn't even quite sure how to find that station... but just went with my instincts. I guess I was guided somehow, and amazingly 20 minutes later I arrived at the station, after asking some directions from people. And there she was, just standing there by the entrance, waiting like I told her to, She looked skinny, she was wearing some unfamiliar cloths again, and she was still walking around carrying her things in plastic bags. I had called my brother along the way, and since he was on his way to work, I told him I would handle this on my own. How I was going to do it was lost to me, but I knew this time round... I had no support. She gave me a hug, and though I was only to happy to receive it... her entire body smelt..... a result of not bathing for months. Her nails were long and dirty, her feet were black.. and it looked like her slippers were cutting her skin.

She was not aggressive and she did not resist. I held her by her shoulder, the first touch I have had with my mother for at months now, and just told her to get into the car with me. I brought her to my car and sat her at the back sit. She asked why did she have to sit at the back, but I told her don't worry about it. But the truth was, I had switch the child safety lock on for the back seats, so that she could not make a runaway if she resisted what I was about to do next.

She spoke a lot while I was driving, but I kept mostly silent. I did not tell her I was planning on bringing her straight to the hospital to be admitted. God knows how she was going to take it this time. So I said nothing and just drove right straight into the Emergency department of University Hospital in PJ. Surprisingly, she had not tried to run away yet. I told her to wait in the car while I went to do the registration. I told the medical attendants to watch over her to make sure she does not run away.. and they instantly recognized her as a psychiatric case.. I glad this time I did not have to go through any trauma or a struggle. I watched from afar as the attendants tried to coax her into getting onto wheelchair. When she refused.. the 2 attendants went away.. and 6 came instead.. with a stretcher bed.. The opened the doors and finally managed to get her on the bed. They used cloths to tie her four limbs all tightly to the bed.... and was brought into the hospital. After parking my car, I joined her and sat there for 45 minutes as the doctor on call made his way to see us. She tried to struggle, and she started crying again, asking why I was admitting her into hospital again. But I felt no sorrow. In fact, for the first time in months, I finally felt that I did the right thing. The doctor came, and I again retold our story to this doctor, something I have done so many times, so much so that I even remember all the names of the medication that she used to take. The medical attendees and even myself held her down as the nurse injected her with tranquillisers & medication to sedate her. She was trying to fight.. but I guess the combination of the valium running in her veins and the sheer exhaustion of sleeping on the streets got the better of her. Within 10 minutes of the injections.... she was snoring loudly right there in the ward.

Not a very sightly thing to see.... But despite the lack of rest, and the tiredness of reliving the whole episode of admitting my mother into hospital again, I was at peace. Better here than on the streets I told myself. There was nothing much I could do but to let my mother sleep and for me to go home to prepare her things. I carried her plastics bags emptied them and put all her laundry to wash. Everything was either stinky or dirty. There was about forty ringgit in stuck in an empty egg tray she carried. A cigarette bud... a bolt (yes, as in bolt & nut), a shutter cock, a Mcdonalds cup lid, and a bun. There was a big blanket, a jacket & some dresses that looked more like it was for 12 year old girls that for a 52 year old woman.

She will be in the hospital for at least the next week or so, then it will be time to discharge her once she has stabilized again. We will have to think of what to do with her next.. .the only solution for now seems to be putting her into a nursing home for the mentally ill again.. even though it would cost us a fortune every month. Something I am not looking forward to. But there is no shying away from what we have to do... and even if it cost us an arm and a leg every month, we are still obliged to care for our mother in whatever ways we can. It is what any son would and should do for their mother. For giving birth to you, giving you milk from her body, nurturing you, protecting you, singing you songs to sleep and teaching you to tie your shoe laces, no child can ever walk away from taking care of their mother without ending up hating themselves.... and i have hated myself for walking away so many times that it has to come to a stop somewhere.

At least for now, I can go to sleep at night.. knowing she is safe in the hospital, under proper care.... and mostly that she is safe instead of being out on the streets. I know at least from now on... as long as it is within my power to give her care, I will not shed another tear in worry of her like I have done these past few months. Welcome back ma.....

Fearing the Worst

2008-07-21T10:25:00.001+08:00

"Hann, I have no more money already." she said to me. "Hann.... are you OK?....... I........ tell your father....... make sure jynn goes to church......I.....I........." she mumbles on and off.

From the phone number, I know she's not even in my home town anymore.... somewhere in Melaka now.

What do you do when you hear that from 500 miles away? What is a son suppose to do when he hears his mother is absolutely penniless and wondering the streets. I am starting to see that this feeling of guilt and helplessness is going to haunt me for the rest of my life.

Sometimes I even amaze myself how I can just go on with my life as if everything in the world is just fine for me. I would get a disturbing call from my mother. i would know she isnt well. I would move away and try to talk to her the few seconds that she is on the line... then the line gets cut off... and I sit down at my chair again and resume whatever I was doing. I feel disturbed and worried throughout the day.. but beyond worrying and fretting, I do nothing.

On a deeper level, I wonder if I should be acting in a different way. Isnt this the sort of thing that makes you do something drastic? What would a normal son's reaction be in a situation like this? I wonder why I am not marching into my bosses office and demand an emergency leave and immediately drive 300miles to go make sure my mother is OK. The more I wonder, the more I realise I do not have the answer, or perhaps I already do know the answer but am not ready to acknowledge it; that I am taking the easy way out convincing myself that whatever I do will be futile and no use.

When I realised that she stopped sticking in the same place anymore, I got worried. My mother is on the verge of becoming a missing person. Every single time she calls, I will ask her where she is.. But she never feels it is important to answer me. Gone are the days when she would at least stick in one place. She is now truly a wanderer... refusing to settle down in one place.

Amazingly, when I am alone in bed at night, I still think of her. My heart aches at the thought of her. I think back on that night she came to stay in my place, how she was so tired of exhaustion she just slept right there on the floor, how I just sat there beside her, thinking what a useless son I have become, touching her rough and worn out skin. I wished with all my heart that all these things did not need to happen... I still do.

I have not lost my mother totally yet.. But the feeling in my heart is that I am at the verge of it. How long will she continue like this? How long before she disappears completely? The misery of that day looms at the back of my mind every time I speak to her. When she calls, just like she did today, I try my best to really listen to her voice. There really is no sense in the things she is trying to tell me, but never the less, I listen intently... because I do not want to forget her voice. I am terrified that one day, when my mother long gone, I will forget her voice. Trust me when I say, there will never be another voice, smell, feel or touch more special to you than that of your mother. I know there will never be any person ever that will call my name the way my mother does, or hold my hand the way she does.

I dread the day I wake up in the morning having to face the fact that I have no one to call "ma" anymore, never see her, hear her voice, hold her hand or hug her. Every time she calls, deep in my heart, I pray that it is not the last.

Goat Farms to Vege Farms

2008-07-09T08:33:00.001+08:00

At the end of last year,, my father was all the craze for opening a goat farm. He was sick and tired of his job and wanted to go into goat farming himself. When we visited him down in Kluang, the first thing he did was to bring us to a nearby goat farm to try to get us all excited and supportive of his idea. Of course, knowing only too well my father's 'hangat-hangat tahi ayam' style, we knew it was just a matter of time before the excitement sizzles out of him, and stops having these unrealistic ideas.

For a long while there, it seemed almost as if it wasn't going to fizzle out, and that he would really go through with it.... But it did eventually. He quit his job in johor and came back to KL, to start another school canteen business with his wife. Not that it isn't profitable, only that he never seems to get a cent out of these businesses (usually goes all to the controlling wife).

My father has an extremely complex love-hate relationship with his wife. He hates her quite a fair bit, and she seems to love herself quite a fair bit too. She controls all the money and only gives him what ca be described as just scraping the bottom every month. She doesn't talk to him for days and treats hi more like a worker rather than a husband. Sometimes, I really wonder just what this woman has done to my father that he is willing to put up and take all this crap from her. I guess in his own little way, my father constantly tries to search for ways to be independent and free from her control, and I suspect ideas like having a goat farm of his own, totally un-reliant on her was one of his 'plans of escape'.

Latest in his long list of business ideas is to have a vegetable farm somewhere on the way to Pahang. He's been talking to some local Pak Haji or something like that and is seriously exploring the idea of setting up his own vegetable farm, starting out by leasing, developing empty land and planting local vegetables to sell. he pitched the idea to my brother and I though we remained stone faced throughout the conversation. I was tempted to just highlight the numerous business and career ideas that he has brewed over the past few years, none of which has ever been successful or even seen the light of day. But I held my tongue and let him have his say. The real problem was about money, and where he would find the capital to raise the amount he needs to get started off. Never mind that we thought he was a complete new comer to this business, hasn't planted so much as a bean sprout in this last ten years. He bought a small flat in KL many years back, and has been promising my grandmother for over a decade now that the house will go to my brother and I. Main cause of worry being that now that he is a muslim, whatever property he might have will automatically go to his muslim family / the government without question. In wanting to honour what he said, he intends to transfer the title of the house to our joint name. At the same time, he wanted to take up a loan using the house as collateral.

So effectively, he wanted to transfer the house to our names and for us to take up a loan using the house in our names for him to use the money as capital for his business.

Well, to be fair, the house is his anyway.. and its really up to him if he thinks he wants to use his property in that manner. The problem was that he is asking us to take up the loan in our name. So legally speaking, WE owe the bank money, WE are obligated to do the repayments, and WE will be blacklisted and our credit standing affected should HE fail in his business. Worst part of it all, the loan will take another 20 years to be fully serviced. Does he intend to do this business for the next 20 years at the age of 52? Is he confident that he will generate enough revenue to repay the loans?

Now, it all sounded a bit too riskly and, dare I say, silly thing to agree to. So 2 days later when we met up again, I said to him point blank that we were uncomfortable doing it. Not that we were not willing to help.. but hey.. I can't even get a credit card to my name yet, what more getting a 50K loan. Plus, what if in future I wanted to get a loan of my own to buy a house of my own? The banks will see that I have already taken up a previous one, and thus adding to my inability to take on additional debts?

So I guess he conceded the point.... I told him it was OK if he took up the loan in his own name.... but personally, I still felt that it was a big risk to take knowing his character. I said that whatever it is, please think it through THOROUGHLY on all aspects before making such a commitment. I just hope he knows what he is doing.......

The Forbidden M Word....

2008-06-30T20:32:00.001+08:00

I have been trying for the longest time now to avoid blogging or even thinking about this matter, but I think it's high time I made this confession:

I'm terrified of the idea of getting married....

So terrified that I don't even know how to blog about it. I'm not sure if I feel more afraid, exasperated or cautious when talking about it.I'm only a 23 year old guy! I've graduated barely a year ago! I have a lot of debts! I don't have any money! I snore at night! I'M NOT READY!!!!

Ahem.. ahem.. OK.. Sorry for the nervous breakdown. I used to watch dramas on TV where the nosy uncles and aunties liked to ask young adults what their plans for marriage are.. and they always try to avoid the questions or brush it aside. Well... I now know first hand what its all about. Why do they keep asking me these questions? Why do they have to know when i intend to get married? Its ME (not) getting married right? Marriage is frankly the last thing on my mind.. but it seems to be the first on everyone else's.

my father and brother have asked me...my cousins have asked me.. my uncles and aunties have ask me.. her aunt and uncle have asked me.... even my boss has asked me..of course SHE has asked me. I have given an answer to none of them..

The way everyone looks at it is.. We've been together an awful long time (6 years now - since high school).. we get along great.. we are very steady... we support and love each other....we make each other laugh.. we are both working adults now... and all that is left is for me to pop the question and for her to say yes...

If only I could just feel the same way.

The first problem is of course money. Everyone knows getting married is an industry of its own. Wedding gowns.. wedding flowers.. photographers.. wedding planning.. church service, invitation cards, dinner, reception, drinks.. food.. everything cost money. And we aren't even talking about a honeymoon yet. Who's going to pay for all these things? I know my girlfriend is trying to save very hard.. anticipating all these expenses. Of course, everyone says marriage is something between 2 people.. but that's just the marriage.. no one said anything about the wedding.. and there are closely observed traditions in weddings. You don't own your wedding.. your relatives and friends do. The food and the dinner is meant for them. I shudder at the thought of spending 10~20 a night on food everyone will complain about and drinks no one will finish. My boss had a good idea.. Write in your wedding invitation that gifts are not allowed... cash only.. That way you will cover your cost and even make a small profit. But of course, it is my BOSS talking. "Isn't that rude?" I asked. "Yes it is." he frankly answers, looking at me trying to tell me..."But why should you care?"

They all tell me "Aya.. just do a small modest dinner la.. When my husband and I got married.. we only had 2 tables and 20 people and that was it..." And that looked like sound advise.... But what do I tell to the other 50 people who have repeatedly told me "Next time you get married.. must invite me ah!" I COULD do that and go for a very small dinner etc and probably keep the cost managable.. but what kind of message will that be sending her relatives? If you want to marry someone's daughter, you better show respect and at least give them a respectable reception right? What kind of guy is she marrying if he can't even afford a proper wedding dinner? More importantly... what about HER? Isn't it every little girls dream to have a nice beautiful wedding? Am I destined to rob her of her childhood dream?

But that's just the wedding part... which will be over within days. Then there's the part about going for a honeymoon.. then getting a house.. then eventually have kids.... I will truthfully tell you that these things frighten me. And though I know these things will come only in years ahead.... they still feel too fast for me. I still can't even decide if I'm ready to get married.. let alone about buying a house or having kids.....

Is she the one for me? In the deepest and darkest corners of my mind... I do wonder how it would be if I was with someone else. The grass always seem greener on the other side.... and my mind wonders... how would it be like if I was with that someone else? I know I shouldnt not be having all these thoughts.. because in reality I am very happy being with the person that I am.... But the thought lingers... and though I know I risk going down a very very dangerous line of thought... it persists. Its absurd, crazy and completely far fetch to even think of such possibilities..... but I catch myself still thinking. What if I was with someone else?.....

It's then that I know I am not ready. It is then that I know there remains something inside of me that is unsettled. An undivided heart will not be wondering such things...... and I am forced to confront my own true feelings because even as I write this, I know I am not being completely honest with myself about how I feel about some people. I feel that somehow, all these doubts and thoughts must first be cleared and my heart settled before I can give her, others and even myself a truthful answer to the questions they have been asking me. How can I go around talking to everyone about my marriage plans if I can't even convince myself?

Sigh.... Life seemed so much simpler when you were 16... and the hardest thing you had to do was ask a girl out on a date.

Rewarding Words

2008-06-27T00:48:00.001+08:00

"My main reason of writing this is to thank you.. am really grateful of meeting u as a friend.. uve really made an impact in my life eventhough u might not noe how much u had.. thank you once again....."

How do you react when you someone says something like that to you?

I was completely speechless.... But that was OK, since it was in an e-mail anyway. I tried replying to that e-mail immediately, but found that I didn't quite know what I should reply. Should I go all serious and say thank you? Or go typical Malaysian style and say "No la... where got." Actually, only 8 words from the entire letter stumped me... "uve really made an impact in my life" .... that really got me.

What's all this about you might be wondering? What exactly did I do that has made such an impact in this persons life? Well, I was kind of wondering the same thing too, because I really didn't do anything per se that affected her (yes it's a her)... what I do recall doing was just talking and chatting a lot and encouraging her to be more comfortable in her own skin. She used to mind a lot on what others thought of her.. maybe too much so... and she would often overwrite her own opinions with that of her friends and those around her that she started wondering if there was something wrong with her and the way she thinks. So I did try to encourage her to believe in herself, be confident, but most importantly have conviction in what you belief in.

I did eventually reply that e-mail...... I told her

No.1. "No la.. where go" in true Malaysian spirit. ...

No.2 Her growth as a person this 1 year was due to her own strength, not my so called 'counselling'.

No.3 If I knew she was taking my words so seriously, I would have been more careful with what I said!...

Just to share, that e-mail pretty much made my day... and perhaps the week. It lifted my spirits in a way I couldn't explain. Not that I was trying to take credit and act as if I was some sort of important person... but it just feels good when someone comes up and tells you that you made a difference in their life... that in the course of your life..,you did things that not only benefited you... but also another person. I don't know how many people get to hear someone else say that to them... and if so.. how often do they get it.... But for me, this was the first time in my life a friend has come up to me and said such things.... and I tell you.. I really felt happy inside.. not the gloating 'see how good I am' kind of happy... but a genuine joy that all the things I said and did made a positive impact on her.

Knowing my background and family issues, she often asked me how I managed to stay so positive in the face of such challenging and difficult experiences. She said it amazed her how I have managed to be the person I am given the circumstances. In her experience, people who come from broken homes usually are problematic or dysfunctional in some way. On the contrary, here I was from a problem home, giving her from an intact family, advise on how to live life.

Sometimes, I wonder the same thing.... and ask myself how come I not out partying late nights... experimenting with drugs.. getting my nose pierced and complaining that life is not fair. Till today, I still can't understand just what made me the person I am today. Sometimes I think my bad experiences taught me a lot, and I was forced to grow up very quickly and be mature about things. Other times I think that it was God who guided me and made sure I didn't go wrong. I still haven't made up my mind which it is.

I dared not even share / relate that to anyone around me, because I was afraid that if it came out wrong, it would seem like I was bragging and showing off...... But deep in my heart, I did feel pleased. In that same e-mail, she told me that as thankful as she was to me, she sometimes felt that I gave too much of myself to others, even to the extent of taking too much away from myself. Was I being too selfless.. or downright foolish? I told her I did feel that way sometimes..... But as compensation... I get an e-mail like that from people like her! I get the privilege of being at the receiving end of words like "uve really made an impact in my life eventhough u might not noe how much u had.. thank you once again....."

I don't think there are many things in life that can top just how rewarding it is to hear those words.

Disgusting Shopper!

2008-06-03T10:28:00.001+08:00

Here's something that will really make you think twice the next time you want to buy pre-cooked food from your friendly supermarket.

It was one of those days after work. My friend and I were at the nearby supermarket trying to buy some things to eat. Having worked till very late, we hadn't had our dinner. We were at the bakery and ready cooked food section. My friend was in the mood for some roast chicken, while I was more in the mood for the fried stuff. But seeing how I just recovered from an upset stomach, I couldnt make up my mind if I should be eating oily foods again. So I lingered around before making up my mind.

The HE came along. Some foreign national, Indian or Turkish or something, carrying his grocery basket. Initially, I thought nothing of him. But then I spotted something that totally put me off; he was touching the fried chicken with his fingers, as if trying to test if they were still warm! An alarm went of it my head, and in my mind, I was screaming "Hello, some OTHER people might actually want to eat that! People like ME! Get your dirty fingers away!" I was just standing across, and just stared at him for a full 10 seconds, though he seemed oblivious of me. I was fuming! How can you touch these food with your bare hands? Especially when you haven't actually bought them. I thought I had seen the most disgusting and appetite robbing act of the day when the next act nearly made my eyeball pop out and jaw drop to the ground.

HE, meaning this mangy suspicious suicide bomber look-a-like man, actually started using his fingers to pinch at the meat! Oh My GOD! With one hand holding the basket, he was using 2 fingers, trying to pinch at the crisp while appearing casual. He then proceeds to put it in his mouth and quietly chew with him mouth close. I was lost and stared at the whole situation in disbelief. So much for having THAT for dinner! My first impulse was to run up to him and catch him red handed... but instead ended up running to my friend and sharing the disgusting episode and point the man out to him.

Worst part of it was he didn't do it once, but repeatedly! Go by yourself some proper dinner man! The next impulse I had was to put up a big sign next to the chicken with the words "CONTAMINATED : Pinched by dirty fingers". That was before I then spotted him in the dry foods section, snacking away at the 'keropok' and other dried crackers.... Aaaargh... By then, I just felt tempted to point a finger at him and shout "You keropok stealing, chicken pinching food contaminator cheapskate! People might actually want to eat that you know!"

Sigh... Alas I was too disgusted and lost for words to say anything. But it made me think twice before ever buying ready cooked food not displayed behind a glass partition or neatly wrapped. I just hope no one bought that piece!

Green Eyed Monsters

2008-05-24T11:55:00.001+08:00

I heard once that jealousy is the shadow of greed. That sound pretty profound doesn't it? Until I tell you that I heard it from the movie Star Wars.. Haha..

But the issue of green eyed monsters has been on my mind of lately, mainly because: (i) My girlfriend has a small one in her and (ii) My good friend living with us has a BIG one.

Despite going steady for so many years now, my girlfriend is (thankfully) very frank with me in acknowledging that she has a small problem with me having 'friendly & warm' relations with any other woman (with the exception of my mother and herself of course). There was once a time, when she would seriously consider it a threat whenever I even spoke to another woman. Even the mere mention of me speaking and getting along with a female classmate or colleague would be enough to get her to 'makan cuka' - which is another way of saying she gets jealous. Believing in pre-emptive strikes, I made it a point to talk as much as I could about these women, not to make her even more jealous, but to demonstrate to her that I had nothing to hide. I made it a policy to be completely open and honest on my dealings with all my friends, especially female ones. Of course, I will confessed that in order to somewhat tilt it to my favour, I sort of just mention in passing whenever there was something good to say about them, while deliberately going through all the pains to highlight all their flaws; just to make her feel more secure; to show that I wasn't somehow putting too high regard on these women and somehow threatening her position. To her credit, she has improved tremendously, no longer suspecting every single woman I come in counter with. Though she still cant stop asking me about every single eligible and pretty looking girl "If you were not with me, would you fall for a girl like her?" I suppose being a woman, she cant get it out of her system, and constantly need reassurance. Of course, the default answer is No, even if you have think the answer could be a yes.

In my situation, it my girlfriend always worrying that she somehow looses me to some other women. "You are a very nice guy, and I know the kind of girls that would fall for a guy like you." she would tell me. Flattering, but despite my best efforts, I cannot convince her she is over-rating me because she's in love with me.

On the other hand, 2 of my friends got hooked up with each other very recently, and in a bizarre turn of roles, it is the guy who has the green eye, not the girl. He gets upset and insecure when he knows she meets up with other guy friends, even if they are old friends long before he was in the picture. Its not like she goes out on dates with other guys. She just meets up with her friends at the local coffee shop, and I doubt it is alone. In any case, being a nurse also, she hardly meets up with any of her friends anymore due to her busy shifts. Almost all her time is divided between her family and her new boyfriend, how can he possibly be insecure about her whole situation?

But the problem lies deeper than that.

He started making all sorts of request for her, like asking her to cook meals for him (since he did that for her when he was courting her). He loves food, and loves cooking. She doesn't know how to cook at all and not much of a food fan, but being that nice person she is, she took up the challenge and tried her hand at a few dishes. The he starts giving her beauty tips and articles on 'how to use make up effectively'. He firmly believes that women should properly beautify themselves. She rarely wears make-up. The most outrages request came when one time she was staying over, he actually asked him to wake up early to prepare his lunch for him to bring to work in the morning. Imagine the nerve of him! She says no, and he gets a bit disappointed. Being the more introverted and less expressive type, she seldom says sweet mushy mushy stuff to him. He being all on fire and swept off his feet, feels like he's clapping with one hand. Sends her messages asking why she doesn't say these things to him, she starts crying and wondering what is wrong with herself, and why he is feeling this way. She doesn't understand why he is suddenly disappointed with her despite she spending half her free time exclusively with him. He starts to wonder why she doesn't seem to be as crazy about him as he is about her, and she is wondering the same thing. He is wondering why he is behaving more like the needy woman, and she like the insensitive man, and she is wondering the same thing.

I thought the start of relationships were supposed to be like the honeymoon period right? Can you imagine all this things unfolding within the first month of being together?

I kind of saw it coming, and I knew that once they were together, things would change, not just between the 2 of them, but also between them and the people around them. I used to jest and joke a lot with the girl. After all, her disposition was a lot like me, and getting along well seems natural. But after they hooked up, I could see that my buddy was much more possessive over her than before. I found out from others that he previously felt a bit 'tak syok' or uncomfortable when I seemed to get along too well with the apple of his eye while he fade into the shadows. In my defence, its not my fault that you don't know how to create good conversations right? So after they hooked up, I could see that he was eager to consolidate his position as head honco / numero uno or whatever, I backed off. I told my girlfriend I was going to change the way I spoke and relate to his new girlfriend. After all, how is he going to feel if his buddy seems to get along better with his girlfriend than him?

One night after picking him up from work, my buddy suddenly blurts out that he foresees that he isn't going to be very happy for the next few weeks / months. So finally, he spills the beans to me telling me about how he was feeling in the relationship, without going into the details. He felt frustrated because it seemed like he was doing all the giving; travelling far to see her, cooking meals for her, making small personal gifts for her while she doesn't seem to reciprocate in kind. She is working most of the time, working double shifts and hardy has time to reply his messages. He was wonders why she doesn't seem to miss him at all while he thinks about her day and night. Sorry to say, I wasn't feeling to sympathetic. I gave him a piece of my mind, albeit in a toned down, flowered up version.

He was emotionally needy. In his own words, all he thought of day and night was her. He confessed that she was his number on priority now. I warned that when you are emotionally dependant on other people, you are setting yourself and your relationship up for disaster and you will never be happy. I told him his flame burning a bit to brightly now, and he needed to cool down. His eagerness and passion was starting to burn himself and her. People who are emotionally immature always blame their feelings on others. They have no insight into their feelings and have no control over them. His frustration is understandable when he seems to be blowing hot while she blows cold. But though they have now officially become a couple, in reality, they still do not know each other. He had false expectations that now that they are a couple, everything will fall into place. There was a hundred and one things about her he still didn't know about yet, vice versa. These things add up. He was trying to move too fast, trying to shift up a gear, but the girl wasn't ready. After I finished knocking (or should we say pounding) sense into him, I suddenly understood why girls always seemed to like older man more. It was about the maturity. My good friend over here, despite all his sincerity and eagerness, was not mature enough to steer the relationship in the right direction emotionally. He was needy, and after giving some, now wants the girl to give back some. Not in his deepest insight would he be aware that he was being emotionally selfish.

But we all know how humans are really. When it comes to emotions, its never enough to just 'know' how you are feeling and how you should improve. Its about fully embracing what you know in your mind into your heart. Its one thing for a person to say they want to change, saying it is often never enough. In the end, its always that extra push or resolution that comes from the heart that gives you the conviction and the strength to act in a different way than you normally would. Well, at least that is what I think.

What can I say of people who are overly possessive over their partners? It it truly that they are insecure? Or is it more than that? Somehow, I feel that its a combination of people having their own insecurities, thinking that they might loose that person at any time, but most importantly but more importantly, they cannot come to the acceptance that its not always possible / necessary to have someone and to hold then tightly at the same time.

Some people keep birds in cages. They keep the bird there so that they can feed it, admire it, care for it and safely say they own it, even if the bird is never free. They never think that perhaps the bird belongs in the sky, they never consider that perhaps its possible to call the bird a part of your life, without caging it. They never think that perhaps the bird isnt so happy to be locked up. They have the bird, and they hold it to their liking. These people have a small small heart, and it the core of it, they are just emotionally selfish people.

Though it hurts to consider this, but in essence, this is what you are my friend.

3 Years Of Blogging!

2008-05-06T18:37:00.001+08:00

Gosh, I was just looking at my archive, and I realised that I have been blogging for 3 years now.... Since May 2005. Three years... man that's a lot of words! Cant I ever shut up? :p

Hmmm... Not quite sure how to really feel about that really. Sometimes, my blogging seems like a case of 'syok sendiri'... its like I post just for my own fun.. somehow thinking its some big deal.

Other times, I feel like an idiot to post some very personal stuff here. Did u noe that the number one hit on my blog is this letter ? I checked on Statcounter.. Every other day I get a hit from somewhere around the world; Dubai, London, America, Brasil etc etc where someone decided it was a good idea to search 'letter to my girlfriend' on google and magically stumble on my blog. I have on numerous occasions actually thought of deleting the entire blog! It gets freaky when you type your own name on google and see your most intimate and personal thoughts all in the first 3 search results! Then I realised its a stupid idea to use my real name while blogging... but was a bit too late for that..

Other times, I feel like the blog is my personal refuge where I can say whatever i want, however I want. I get encouraging messages from people I never met, people with real lives, and real problems of their own. who somehow think my life story is interesting enough to read every day. (Cant thank u enuf Cat. Who noes.. maybe we might even meet some day?)

Other times, I get a small hand full of friends who never leave comments, but read up once in a while... who then either tell me face to face or via e-mail..."hey, i read your blog & ......" Usually, I try to find a deep dark hole to jump into during those moments.

In any case, i'm glad I started blogging.... and hope to actively do so for years to come!

Till the next blog!

Stepmums & such

2008-04-24T13:29:00.001+08:00

Sorry for not writing for so long.

Like has been quite hectic of late. Its hard to find the time to sit down and write like I used to, and all the more harder to find the privacy to be with my own thoughts.

I have been posted to Bintulu for work on a project for a week or so, and thus find myself able to sit down alone and reflect on my thoughts. Being away from you home, away from your loved ones does have a strange effect on you. Suddenly you treasure the smaller things that you have at home. Suddenly I feel crippled without my car, the freedom to just lazy around the do as I wish at home. But never mind that.

The dinner with my ex-step mother went alright. I supposed I went overboard in expecting all hell to break loose. Nonetheless, it was quite an awkward thing for me still. I was running late, and had to go pick up my father first. Can you imagine the nerve of him, when he asked me to get down from the car and go say hello to his wife. I said no point blank to him and told him to get going. "Come on, its common courtesy. " he said to me. I stared at him for a full 5 seconds with the most menacing look I had ever given him. I didnt like all this crap the was asking me to do. But he was my father, I was should honour him at least try to respect his request. I wasnt a kid anymore when he could force me to call someone else mother. But it would help him get out of hot soup if I did it.

So I put on the biggest & most plastic smile I could manage, get down the car and said hello to her; not that she was particularly happy to receive my greetings anyway. Its all just one big game of charades. So I said my hello and got into the car with my father. I was mad by the time and did not beat around the bush about the matter.

" The next time you want me to pull that kind of stunt again, please tell me ahead of time."

He said it was not a stunt, and that it was common courtesy.

"I have no intention of building a relationship with her. Why should I go down and try to give her that impression of being friendly? Knowing her, she would now start to brandish me as being a fake. I went down and said hello to her out of respect for you and nothing else."

He just kept quite.

I dont think I have ever been so harsh with my father before, nor speak to him in that tone before. But I realised I was no longer the same person I was a year ago, but more on that later. Having my say, we moved on to talk about this other wife that he used to have. Just as I was going to pick him up, I was just thinking of the whole irony of the situation; I was going to pick my father up from his current wife's house to go and have dinner with his ex-wife. How bizarre is that? How much the choices of my father has influence her. After that mini show off my my father, I was in the mood to be direct & straight to the point.

"Honestly, I dont see what this is all about. She has moved on, we have moved on and you are still married to this other woman, which was why she left in the first place. Why are we digging up all this skeletons from the past? What is this dinner suppose to achieve anyway? To build a new relationship?"

He was taken aback by my sudden strong stand on the matter.

"She took care of you for many years, doesn't that count for something? Unless you thought she was being insincere? I thought that even without me in the picture, you boys and her would at least have a strong enough relationship to carry on. Did you really feel nothing for her at all during all this times? "

That was when I laid it down plain for him to see how I really felt about the whole matter.

"I think you only have it half right. I think she was sincere in taking care for us all those years when we were all together. But she didnt do it out of love for us. We were the access luggage that came with marry the man. She had no choice but to take the whole thing or nothing at all. So she did take care of us, but she did it out of love for you. Similarly, we accepted her and called her mother because you wanted it so. We did it out of love for you. You were the link. So when you ended the relationship with her. She and us, well, at least she and I crumbled pretty quickly. It did not take root enough to stand on its own as far as I am concerned."

I omitted the part when she and I had a stand off the last few months leading to me moving out from her place. I left out the part where whenever he was away, she was content in doing her own things while I did mine. And I certainly and deliberately not remind him that she treated my girlfriend badly and was outright rude to her. It seems he has forgotten that she complained to him about her coming to our place. It was a sore point between her and I, and my father was dragged in the center. I had to stand firm and defend my choice and my girlfriend even to my father who of course took the side of his wife. Someone, all this significant things were forgotten to my father.

But he was too engulfed in his own thoughts and feelings to be concerned about these things. He seldom asks me about my mother or my girlfriend, the 2 most important women in my life. He harps on the past and about the wrong choices he made.

"Did I really screw up my life that badly?" he ask me.

"Its not my place to say. But the choice that you made directly influenced our lives." I said. Growing up living without my mother but instead with 2 malay step mothers were none of my own doing, it was a direct result of his choice. Now that I am on my own, I refuse to be cornered and shaped by the choices that he makes.

So we arrived and said hello to her. I deliberately avoided calling her anything in particular, just to void the awkwardness. If I called her 'auntie' it would highlight her now diminished status with us, to call her 'mak' would be a betrayal to my own mother. So going swiss seemed like the best choice. So we just chatted about my work, about my brother, my father couldnt help talking about old times, which just made me all the more awkward. I remained polite throughout the conversation, but avoided talking to much or getting involved. We talked awfully little abut my education & graduation, considering it was supposed to be in honour of that. But I was only too happy to talk too much about myself. After dinner, we just said thank you and left. No word of keeping in touch or anything.. Just thanks for dinner and left.

So it wasn't too bad... except the food was hardly worth the price. I think I achieved what I wanted to do; polite and friendly, but distant at the same time. Am I being ungrateful and heartless? It is the view of my father and brother that at the very least, she did have a hand in taking care of us. For that I do feel some gratitude towards her. But it doesnt mean I have to go and act as if I still want her to be a part of my life does it? That chapter of my life has passed, and a clean start cannot come skeletons from the past.

Awkward relationships

2008-04-06T00:20:00.001+08:00

I used to have just one mother. Then I had a step mother. Then I had a second step mother. Then the first step mother became an ex-step mother.

The last time I saw this ex-step mother was no lesser than 4 years ago, after leaving secondary school. She has tried to keep in touch with us for a while after her divorce with my father, but I guess without that crucial link, the relationship just reached its natural death.

Imagine my surprise, when my brother told he he had been keeping in touch with her in recent months. Imagine the shock when he tells me that she suddenly wants to have a dinner with my brother, my father and I, in honour of my graduation. Now, I dont even know where to begin on how bizarre and uncomfortable this is. Doesnt the word awkward mean anything here?

First of all, she has had nothing to do with my higher education. She didnt pay for it, she wansn't involved in in and she certainly didnt take any interest in it. So what is all this now about wanting to have a dinner in honour of something she just got to know recently? Lets not pretend that you are really celebrating my achievement here OK. It's as big a news as knowing that roti canai is going up ten cents. It just make me extremely uncomfortable when someone who hasnt been in my life for 4 years suddenly wants to have a dinner in my honour. It sounds... fake and pretentious... it sounds.... exactly like the kind of stunt she would pull.

Secondly, she's divorced to my father. That means that strictly speaking, I do not have any relationship with her any more. I got rid of calling her 'mak' and the thought of possibly having to call her that makes me shiver to the bone. It was what I called her throughout her marriage to my father, but after moving out and staying on my own, dealing with my own problems with my real mother, I made up my mind that I would stop calling anyone but my true mother that. It would be an insult to my mother to start calling someone else that. So really, this meeting would be a meeting between father, sons, and ..., a former wife a.k.a. former step mother. What are we supposed to talk about anyway? We have all moved on... well at least I have......

She opposed from the very beginning my relationship with my girlfriend... whom I am STILL dating. So what is there for me to say? She neither supported nor showed concern over my studies these 4 years. Even in my most dire time of need, I did not turn to her because as far as I was concerned, she belonged to a previous chapter in my life... the past... not to be digged up again. But as with my brother and father, they love hanging on to all this sentimental mumbo jumbo... not that its wrong.. but didnt it all come to rather bitter climax the last time? Unless I am getting old and loosing my memory.

Not that I am trying to be ungrateful or anything.... she did take care of us for a few years.. But I remain convinced that she did it out of respect to my father than truly caring for us... which I totally understand... After all, she fell in love and married my father.. ... not his children.. taking care of his children was something she just had to swallow down... the access baggage that comes along with the package. So now that she is divorce, and I assume that she too has moved on.. where does that leave us? What is my relationship with her now? Please dont say friends... because thats the last thing I would call it.

Talk about awkward dinners.. this wednesday is going to top it all...

My graduation!

2008-03-24T10:04:00.001+08:00

So its official, after 4 years and tonnes of money later, I finally graduate with a Bachelors. All of us Ah "B.Eng"s who went to Sheffield together gathered at Shang-ri La KL for our ceremony.

To tell you the truth, I wasn't really that eager about going through the ceremony. It seem kind silly to spend hundreds of ringgit just to get dress in funny robes, stand in line, walk up the stage and shake hands with some old scholar I did not know nor would remember. But I agreed to since (1) my dad was so looking forward to me graduate and (2) it was just about the only graduation I had been waiting out on, I didnt really have a choice. It was either this graduation ceremony or none at all.

But as with any gathering of old friends, I was pretty much upbeat and excited throughout the day. The prospect of seeing some friends again all together under one roof was too good for me to suppress. Sure I had to pay RM400 plus, but I thought, hey what the heck. Seeing how much weight the rest of my chums had put on might just be worth the money. Putting on the elaborate robes was quite an experience, and we had robe dressers for us, whose job was to somehow turn us bunch of mechanical engineering brats into scholarly looking academia. I must say they did do a pretty good job, though I couldn't resist joking with the ladies dressing me that I needed a wand to complete my harry potter outfit. Seriously, how many times in your life can you put on a silly gown in front of hundreds of guys and not look silly? I was going to tell all the Harry Potter jokes I knew that day... (which wasnt that many anyway...)

One rather striking observation I made was this; not to be mean or anything, but I am no longer the fattest boy in the family. That 'honour' has been passed to my older brother, who from the pictures look so much bigger that me. Not that I was every in any competition, but growing up, I was always labelled the 'fatter' son, in need of looking weight. Hehe.... No longer! Though I still need to loose at least 2 stones though. ;p

By the time I arrived there, the place with PACKED with familiar faces, many of whom I did not know but still recognized by face. They were all there last year; the same faces we kept bumping into while shopping at Netto's or while walking at Norfolk park, or while walking around Sheffield city. Though many were as much a stranger to me as I was to them, but everyone looked at each other with some form of familiarity. We had all been there at the same time, taken in the same sight and sounds and went through pretty much the same things. Later the Vice Principal of the University would remind us in his speech of the things we went through there. There was the worst rain in the UK for 30 years, and it coincident with the time we arrived. The teachers all thought that we had brought the rain with us, while we the student were horrified thinking that THIS was typical english weather.

Listening to the Vice Principal talking, seeing some of our lecturers again just somehow made me miss being abroad gain. Hearing that Yorkshire accent again really topped it off and I couldnt help but launch into yet another conversation with the friend beside me on how much we missed Sheffield. He said to me "Sometimes, I also wonder why I came back."... Haha.. I know how you feel man.... I ask myself the same questions sometimes. It isnt just about being there that made it so attractive, but also the being away from the here and now. Everyone has they share of burdens and problems, and being there was basically being away, away from your problems. Who wouldn't want such an escape right? Since then, I have had some serious thoughts about the prospect of working & living abroad, though I have yet to come to a final decision on it.

This graduations really is the final symbol to the end of my student days. The final deed to be done as a student as it were. I will miss those days. I will miss the comradeship. The feeling you get with your mates like your were all on the same ship. You watch my back and I'll watch yours. You scratch my back, I scratch yours. There was no stiff competition to be on top... everyone just wanted to have a good time and pass their papers & assignments the best they could. Your triumph was not going to be my undoing. Your success does not amount to my failure. Friendships were formed and cultivated then. Sincere ones. I feel that somehow as you get older, its harder to find, make and keep good friends. Are your colleagues your friends? Its a tough one to call, because some may be, but others may not. It'd be naive to say that everyone that is friendly to you is your friend....... But at least while you are a student, young, and naive and not into back stabbing to get ahead in life, you cans till generally trust that the person helping you out in your assignment isn't going to stab you in the back to get ahead.

Oh well, I guess you would say its all part of growing up. Here's just a few more photos. My friend and I were trying to act like a bunch of spooks, but couldnt stop laughing... and in the final photo, I kept trying to adjust my friends hat for him....

Day Dreams

2008-03-14T13:52:00.001+08:00

Already more than 3 weeks since my lost post. Where did all the time go?

This have quite down somewhat ever since my last post. Everyone was pretty much caught up with the Malaysian 12th General Election, whose aftermath still linger on till today, with the BN now fighting some underground war with the now stronger Opposition, and The Opposition, despite now holding 5 States in hand, still cant get along with each other. I tell you, the Malaysian political landscape is changing; for better or for worse, who knows. If you are a Malaysian, and have never been interested in politics, well, this time, I tell you it cannot be ignored. Get in the know before you get lost when things start to change.

On the personal front, things have also slightly quiet (or less dramatic as it where) Mother's gone missing again. This time around, she's hanging around in Bukit Mertajam & Kulim, despite not having a single piece of identification on her. It amazes me just how I can just put it plainly like that, as if my heart has now turn to frost. Have I stopped caring? Or have I developed some sort of defence mechanism against this emotional turmoil?

Speaking of emotions, that's where the real crisis is happening. And for the first time in a long long time, I am no longer as sure or as certain about the things around me, and mostly about myself.

I find myself more a cynical (or is it pessimist?) when it comes to things. I have lost some of that innocence, that hope and belief in the good of others. Somehow, my perspective of things are changing. When did it all start?

The day my mother wept on the floor proclaiming that she married the wrong man. The day my girlfriend showed signs that she may not be willing or capable of standing by my side in the face of these problems, the day I found out my father failed to hold on to his promised, and spent money that did not belong to him and never returned. The day I looked into the mirror and saw that I had put on some weight..... or not.

Maybe its just my tired worn out heart acting up finally. I have never been the type to day dream. But to my own surprise, I have been doing a lot of that of late. During lunch, in the shower, while driving. A thought sparks, and my mind races off, and suddenly, I'm no longer me. I'm this other good looking guy living the good life, in the middle of a big metropolitan, with influential and desirable people all my friends, or in some far away foreign land, living on a charming cottage walking through the meadows, feeling the cool breeze and smelling the morning dew. Anything, anywhere, but the present. Dreamy isn't it? Idealistic isn't it? Totally out of character too.

Maybe its some sort of yearning... To be someplace else, to be with someone else, to life another type of life. The grass always seem greener on the other side. Do I believe in making the best of what you have? Yes. Do i believe in embracing all that life has given you? Yes. Do I believe that God has his plans for everyone, and that he is just? Yes. Do i believe that with perseverance and faith, things will be OK in the end? Yes. So why do I still fell this way? Why does it feel like my heart is not as whole as it used to be?

I'm not talking any sense I know. But since has our emotions been something that is sensible? We all hide our feelings behind facts and rationalizations. This isnt about me trying to justify how I feel, this isnt about trying to explain why I feel this way. If you have read my blog, you will understand the things I go through in life. Sometimes, I am full of hope, other times, I am down with sorrow. But this time, it feels broken. Though on the outside everything seems just fine.

I dont laugh as whole-heartedly anymore. I am no longer as loving or encouraging to others as I used to be anymore (not that I am mean to them). I am no longer as patient as I used to be. I am no longer as soft spoke and gentlemen-like as they used to say I am. One more thing, I find myself laughing less and less, and what more, joking even lesser. What happened to my sense of humour about life? Everything that I used to pride myself with, somehow no longer seems to be there. Look at this blog, its full of sadness, discontent and helplessness. Maybe its a transition.. or maybe its a transformation from my past experiences... but wait a minute... puberty is over right?

One thing hasnt changed though.. I'm as long winded as ever... because all i'm trying to say is;

I feel confused, a bit directionless and de-motivated, and I need someone from the outside, totally unrelated to all this to talk to. Someone who listens to all I have to complain, give me a hug, a friendly pat on the shoulder and say "You've been through a lot, but everything will be OK." and in the end, tell me to come back again at any time. I used to know someone like that, but you cant talk to your own shadow can you?

Which would you save?

2008-02-19T10:18:00.001+08:00

Some years ago, I was asked this question; If you were at a river, and your wife and your mother are both drowning, who would you save?

The question really stumped me. How are you to choose between the two most important women in your life? One your mother, the other the mother of your children.

What do you do when it looks like choosing one would mean forsaking the other? This is something I suddenly have to ask myself.

My mother came back, 2 weeks after my last post. Again, I put her up in my house. This time, I was hoping for a week. She came down to make her identification card and perhaps try to renew her bank books. But her emotions are no better than 2 weeks ago, though she is slightly less combative. She has become somewhat agreeable to stay with us again, though we never know when this might change again. My girlfriend has been keeping her silence and her distance ever since she came to stay with us, and all she does is ask me when she will be staying until.

I confess myself feeling hurt. I said point blank to her that while she was concerned about keeping her house in order, since my mother tends to mess things up, I am concerned about keeping my mother off the streets. I wanted to scold her and shout at her at how selfish she is being, but she already knew it. I respect that my problems are not theirs to bear. It is not fair to ask her brother and her to face the problems I face. But deep down, i wished that she would have embraced what I face and be there by my side, instead of retreat, sulk and ask me when it is about to be over. It feels as if my mother is more a nuisance to her and a cause of stress. It is a stress for me also, but its a burden I carry and suffer in the name of love. And though I pay half the rental of the place, it is still essentially her place, since she is the Principal tenant. She is caught between pleasing me and putting up with my mother. I am caught between trying to house my mother and pleasing her. Even now, she maintains her proud and arrogant face to my mother, and suddenly it is my mother who has to submit to her will.

For all that she is, for as much as she loves me, my girlfriend cannot accept my mother, and even after all these years she seems no closer in making any effort to win my family's acceptance. She blames it on them, saying that they are biased against her and could never accept her in the first place. My family is not big, and the only people she really needed to win over was my father, my brother and most importantly, my mother. But even in that, she has failed to win even one.

Maybe its just because of who she is; proud and strong headed, she refuses to take on the role of the humble and eager to please new comer to the family. And perhaps she rubbed my brother and father the wrong way, but they both ended up not really liking her, though they never said it out lout of of respect to me. In retaliation, she showed her mutual dislike for them.

My mother is bitter. She asks me why she cannot stay now with me, when in the past 4 years, my girlfriend stayed with me in my house free of charge. In a way, I feel so disappointed. Even since leaving secondary school, my girlfriend has been living with me. She had no place to go, and no place to stay. I pleaded with my brother for her to stay with her, and he agreed. And though eventually, the 2 of them never got along, not once did my brother ask her to leave. And now, when my mother needs a place to stay, she is more concerned about keeping the peace in her house. Grace is something that can only be given out freely. I cannot ask her to do it for my sake, because it would beat the point. In my heart, I wished that for all that she says she loves me, she could someone learn to love my family too, especially mother.

But sadly, it has not come to that, and though she says she loves me, she has no sense of attachment or responsibility to my mother and her welfare. I wished that she would see my mother as her own, the way I treat her brother like my own. But she has not. After 6 years of being together, she has asked me numerous times about marriage, though I always brush it aside and tell her we are too young. She gets angry at me, saying I have a problem with commitment. I don't. I know exactly what I am doing. I told her to let my actions speak louder than my words. But what about her? My mother has been here 3 days, and already she tells me that perhaps I should find someone else who would love my mother more that she could, since she cannot bring herself to do it. She senses the conflict I face. She knows that somehow she needs to build a positive relationship with my mother, and eventually my family. But she does not rise to the occasion. Instead she retreats and tells me that perhaps I should look for someone else more worthy, who would be willing to love and care for my mother. What does that tell me? It tells me she wants me, but not my problems. She just wants the person, not the access baggage. Where is the selfless love? Where is the what-is-yours-is-also-mine belief? Or does that only apply to good things?

I don't blame her. I am just sad. This is my life. This is my problems. For all the trouble she has given me, she is still my mother, and I cannot and will not abandon her. I will do my best to love her and care for her until the day God takes her away from me. I hate the position I am in. It breaks my heart knowing that my girlfriend puts her own heart before my mothers. Isn't there something in marriage vows about for better or for worse, in sickness and health, through good and bad times? How can I marry a person who does not willingly share in my problems? Who sees my mother as a hindrance towards a happy marriage with me rather than a part of the deal? Is this a normal mother-in-law daughter-in-law dispute? My heart tells me it is not.

I used to be so sure about her. I never told her, I never said it to her, though I made it plain in every other way without having to actually say it, that I was willing to spend the rest of my life with her. But now I am not so sure any more. She tells me I should be with someone else more willing to shoulder this burden with. Sometimes I think maybe she is right. Other times, I think it would be simpler if I didnt have anyone else. That way, my heart would not be sawed in two like it is now.

Sorry ma...

2008-02-11T10:28:00.001+08:00

Its Sunday night, 3 days before the Chinese Lunar New Year when I received the call from my mother.

She was coming down again. This time, she gave a 6 hour notice. Her train was due to arrive in KL at 7. Where were we to put her? Ever since we moved out of our apartment, my brother has been squatting at his pastors place, while I went to live with my girlfriend and her brother and in their rented apartment. We had no place of our which we could comfortably put her without troubling myself.

But there was little choice, and tentatively we agreed that my mother would come to my place first. What to do with her next was the real problem. We spoke about it long and hard. We knew she had been wondering from place to place; people had been telling us that. But we were only to know how bad when she arrived. It was tricky, because there were so many things to consider. We knew that bringing her to the hospital would instantly make enemies of ourselves to her; she might run away, put up a fight, create a scene and never trust us enough to come back to us again. But letting her be was no better. She has been sleeping on the streets by choice, she has been robbed twice, all her documents, bank book and identification have been lost. Admitting her into the hospital would also carry a big financial impact on us not to mention the trauma it would inflict on both us and my mother. I did not look forward to another episode of forcing hospital admission on her. Yet we knew, if it were to go through, it would have to come to that. Apart from hospitalisation, we discussed the possibility of admitting her into this shelter home again, the one where she ran away from the last time. It seem the only medium term solution that would safe guard her and keep her in a controlled and safe environment. Drawbacks there would be she would instantly hate us for putting her there in that prison, cursing that we want her to die faster. Plus the RM800 a month fee was something I could hardly afford. With my brother jobless and my father no where to near to helping us out, I felt like the burden was mine. I told my brother I could not afford to put her in the home for now, not when he was till jobless and I had to pay for it alone. He would have to stop his bumping around and get a steady income and share this burden with me. He talked about an emergency plan of using his credit card to pay the bills first. I said it was crazy to go into further debt spending money you dont have when you dont have a job.

But something had to be done, and we agreed that at the least, we would try to admit her to the hospital, then take it from there. Monday morning came and I woke up, prepared her things (which were being stored with me) and waited for my brother to go pick her up from the train station. I was in a dilemma. I had work to attend on Monday. Should I apply for leave? My brother was available the entire day, and he could manage her, but what was I to do? The right thing would have been to just call my boss and explain my situation and ask for emergency leave. Perhaps I failed in this respect, because if possible, I did not want to take leave. It just felt unprofessional to give my long personal sob story, and expect sympathy. I had a personal crisis to handle, but I had a my professional integrity to keep to.

My mother arrived, and that was when I finally just got to see how she had been living. She was wearing the same orange T-shirt I saw a few months ago. Only, back then it was clean and new, and now, it looked worn out and dirty, very dirty. She was dark and tan she smelled, she looked disturbingly skinny, her finger and toe nails were black and her hair was dirty. I was heart broken again.

She was under the impression that she was free to stay as she pleased. She took out her dirty laundry and started washing it in the bathroom, and she placed some rotten onions and garlic on the kitchen table, insisting that she will cook later. We told her to bath, and that we were taking her out, and that were is where my Monday morning nightmare began. She went berserk, raising her voice, shouting at us to not bring her to the hospital. She said she just wanted to stay for Chinese new year for a few days and return. I explained to her that she was welcomed and free to stay with me, as long as she was calm and composed; something she is incapable of when she is off medication. I do not own the house I live in now; there are others in the house whom I have to respect. I cannot make others put up with what essentially is a burden of my brother and I. What more, my girlfriend mother was coming to stay during Chinese new year. How are we suppooised to house 2 mothers, both with mental illnesses? She said in that case, she will leave straight away. She packed her dirty and damp cloths into a plastic bag, and was ready to leave. I didn't know what to do. I told my brother that if we were to admit her, I would take leave a do it with him, despite my reluctance. But when it came to it, my brother has a change of heart. He felt that if we were to do it, it would be severe emotional wound to her for her own two sons to force it on her. He felt that we should do what we can with her and that admission should not be done by physically forcing her. 8.30a.m, I was already late for work, and I had to decide fast. If were were not going to admit her, I had no strong excuse for an emergency leave.

So in the end, I went to prepare for work. My brother would handle it. He would either bring her to the hospital or do something with her. I had to rush to work. My brother took her to his car, but even then she refused to enter, and created a scene right in front of our apartments. The last sight I saw was my brother arguing her in front of the guard house while many on lookers seemed to enjoy the monday morning drama unfold in front of them. Later in the afternoon, I asked my brother for an update. She had walked off that morning, refusing to get into my brother's car. My brother in his frustration gave up and let her be. So that was that.

But 6 in the evening she called me again. She had bought a ticket for the next morning to return, but in the mean time she had nothing to do and no where to go. I told her to wait for me there. i would come straight after work. I informed my brother and we went together. Maybe we got off on the wrong foot in the morning, but she seemed less in the mood to fight in the evening. I told her we would bring her for dinner and she would sleep in my place tonight. She sat in the back seat and I drove to the nearby KFC. She feel asleep in the car, testimony to just how exhausted she was. I was quiet and kept my conversation to a minimum over dinner. My brother initiated most of the conversation, and she seemed only too keen to share what has been happening. She related her robbery, how she struggled with the snatch thieve for her hand bag before being assaulted. She talked about how she would sleep nearby ATM's where it was air conditioned. When she overslept the morning security guard would chase her away. She barely had just a few hours sleep everyday, fearing that people might do something to her. Some days she would just sleep at a bus stop or in a deserted area. i kept extremely quite. At times when i spoke up, it was to scold her for being stupid and foolish for choosing to live on the streets. My brother pulled me aside and asked why I was being such a sour puss. But I had no answer. I was having a hard time trying to come to terms that my mother sleeps on the streets.

I brought her home and she said she wanted to sleep. I knew from the way she feel asleep in the car that she was exhausted. We had short burst of arguments in the car, but for her sake, I tried to keep it to a minimum. I gave her the bed to sleep, but she insisted on sleeping on the floor. After she had feel asleep, I took her dirty laundry and put them to wash and hang, for her to bring with her the next day. I did what I can to make her comfortable, but she seemed used to sleeping on the cold hard floor.

Despite turning a cold shoulder the entire night and being hard on her, a part of me just wanted to be there beside her and caring for her. But even in that I failed miserably. Even during chinese new year, I am unable to take my mother in and give her a safe place to stay for a while. What kind of son am I? What kind of son would let her mother sleep out on the streets while he returns to a warm comfortable bed every night? If only my friend could see me now, they would not think I am so good after all. I tried to justify myself; we were living together, the entire of last year, before she decided to take off and not return. She wanted to live on her own, not being controlled by us. I made it crystal clear to her the last time. If she was to stay with us, she MUST be on medication. And for that reason, and that reason alone, she refuses to come stay with us. I asked her over dinner, why should would not just come back with us for good, and she said she wanted to, only if we did not force medication on her. But despite going through all these motions, I still felt guilty. The fact is, my mother had no place to stay, and I was refusing her safe refuge in my place. She cried before sleeping, rambling on and on about how she married the wrong man and how she hated my father, and then she feel asleep. I stayed there quiet, just watching over her. I could feel the emotions swelling in me. I reached out and touched her hand. It felt so familiar yet so strange. It was my mothers hand, and the touch of her skinny was always soothing to me. But her hand was coarse, dark and skinny from all the ordeals she has been facing these 2 months ever since running away from us, then from the Gospel Hall where she stayed. I wanted to lie down and just feel her close to me, to feel again what I used to feel when I was a child. My mother putting her hand on me and patting me to sleep. But I dared not wake her from her sleep, and I dared not show her that despite my harsh words, despite trying to tell her what to do all the time, I still longed for her touch and her love. I just held on to her hand for a while, and when I could not take it anymore, I left the room and wept quietly by the corner. I have failed my mother in so many ways.

The next morning, before leaving for work, I dropped her off the trains station. She slept like a baby the entire night, and I couldn't help but wonder just how many nights good nights sleep did she have these past few months. While walking to the carpark she said to me "Hann, last night you stayed and watched over me izit? Thank you." I kept silent.........

The One Who Feeds the Sparrow

2008-01-31T11:37:00.001+08:00

Hi.. just in case you are wondering who this cute little boy is, its none other than yours truly.See that spinky brownish hair? Well, fortunately hair did eventually grown and turn black. See that squinty small eyes? Well, I still have them... still working on trying to make them bigger everyday (though in vain). See that cute bunny teeth? Well, they eventually fell out and the front teeth I have now are new ones... See that goofy smile? Well, I think (and seriously hope i'm correct) that its gone by now.... See that shirt? Gone obviously.....

So thats me, when I was... I duno... 2 or 3? Something like that. What do you think? Cute? People asked me a lot why my hair was brown and not black back then.

I used to be my mommy's boy. Everyone would say I looked like her..... She would keep on telling me I will grow up to be a handsome boy, and that in the future many girls would come after me; 2 predictions I'm still waiting to come true (hahaha.. )

Do you believe in God? Sometimes, when life gets so challenging and difficult, its hard to believe there really is someone up there watching over you and caring for you. At times when you are feeling down, and there just seems to be no way out to the problem, you wonder what He is doing up there. Most of the times, we do what we feel is right, based on our own reasoning and logic. Which isnt really that bad, when you think about it. Whats wrong with acting based on your own sound judgement right? Whats wrong in toughening yourself, believing in yourself and trusting that what you do will bear fruit because you have a mind for it?

Only thing is, look at that picture. Who created that cute little me? How did my mother do this amazing and miraculous feat of giving birth to an entirely new life being? Yes, its biology 101, but who created it? Is life and the creation of new life a purely coincidental thing? Or does it just happen? How many would answer yes? I think deep down, we all have a built in intrinsic belief that there is a God. We acknowledge that our life itself is not a creation of chance, but by deliberate design.... If you have children, look at your children, if you have siblings look at them, isn't it amazing? We all would freely say that child birth is an accepted miracle. We acknowledge it as something extraordinary and miraculous. We know it is a gift, a gift of life. We give high honour and respect to the mother who bears the pain and delivers the child, but we thank and attribute it as a gift from someone, and that someone is God.

We acknowledge that it is by act of God that life is brought into this world. But sometimes, we fail to bring that into our own lives, to acknowledge that he not only brings life into this world, but also sustains it. Seldom do we look to God for guidance and strength. Only when things go beyond our own strength do we suddenly think about God again and ask for some help. Worst, of all, even in asking for help from God, we tend to ask for what we want to come true, in other words, that our will be done. We seldom, if ever stop to ask what perhaps God wants for us; which is unsurprising, since to many, God is not a feasible or ever present entity, but some belief in some vague higher power that is supposed to be there, but never really there.

Do you believe in God? I do. I come to realise that nothing I have done, nothing I have achieved, nothing of who I am is because of my own self. People praise me for the strength to continue with my family crisis, but I asked myself when did I ever have such strength? People tell me I am smart and well spoken, but since when was I ever such things? The truth is, I am none of it. I do not feel proud of all the pain, sufferings and achievements alike. On the contrary, I feel humbled, that I someone managed, not by my own will and strength but through support from God. He didnt send a saviour to me to rescue me from financial burdens or things like that; but at times when things are down, your heart feels black and there's no way out, you find yourself having the strength to go one, despite everything... thats when you know God is working on you.. from within.

My heart is disturbed by these recent news and events on my mother.... but when i looked at this picture, i remember that through no small feat my mother gave birth to me. As frail a woman as she is, she made this miracle in me. The one that saw her through my birth, will see me through my ordeal, and see her through hers. It is our duty to do all that we can, to do what we know should be done.... but what man can plan, only God can see through. Man can brave their hearts and take the leap, but it is God who delivers.... in Him I will trust, because if I did myself, all hope would be lost. A friend wrote this for me to spur me on:

I don't know what may come tomorrow,

It may bring me poverty,

But the one who feeds the sparrow,

Is the one who stands by me.

Real Life Nightmares....

2008-01-24T01:29:00.001+08:00

What would be the right thing to do if you knew your mother was out on the streets?

What would you do if you get a call from someone telling you of rumours that your mother has been roaming around town looking all ragged and dirty?

That is exactly the question I face now. Should we try to go down and get her? How? Where do we find her? How do we even know where to begin? We do know she is in town, but the town is not that small, and just driving around hoping to stumble upon her does not seem a good idea.

A visiting friend from overseas asked me the other day how my mother was. I was caught off guard. Usually, no one asks me questions like this. Maybe its because I hardly bring the matter up, maybe its because people think I dont like talking about. Maybe I dont bring it up because I dont like talking about it...How was I to answer? This was a visiting friend, and the question was one of casual concern, not a heart to heart session. I decided to go for the truth.

I told her my mom is not doing too well. She has been living on her own, God knows where and how, but only that she is up north in my home town. She has been refusing medication, and is now entirely on her own, taking medication at her own will. She gives my brother and I a call once in a while to ask how we are, but we get little chance of talking to her since the conversations never last more than a minute. Then one day my aunt calls; her own sister. She tells us that people have been telling her her sister has been walking around town talking to herself, looking dirty and homeless, fighting people and refusing any help offered. Why she calls now and not sooner beats me. It seems to me she calls because she is concerned about keeping face. She called not to ask what we can do to solve this together, but that my brother and I quickly take action on the matter. Some family we have there.

It breaks the heart. What are you to do anyway? Despite talking repeatedly over the phone, we failed to come to a clear answer. I told my friend honestly that we have tried whatever means we thought would be best for her; we tried letting her stay on her own, but she went into terrible relapses and almost died; we tried staying with her thinking our presence would somehow help, she ended up running away, calling us her abusers; we tried sending her to a Shelter home; but it drove us broke and she accused us of locking her up in jail. What more can we do? For the past 2 yeas she has run away no less than 6 times. She fights with everyone and anyone who gets close to her and tries to help her, including her own two sons. She starts calling my friends, telling them not to allow me to be baptised; a bizarre thing to do since she herself is a baptised Christian. She refuses to stay in the house when visiting and instead decided to stay in the park for two nights, resulting in her bags being stolen.

I was being honest, perhaps too much so with my friend, who seemed instantly lost for words, struggling to find some comforting words for me. But its OK, I have never been the type to hope for sympathy from others. But I appreciated the concern none the less.

Ever since starting work, I have been so immersed and wrapped around it that I have had time for little else. Gone were the days where I could sit behind the computer for hours while some blog is brewing in my mind. I hardly have time for myself. Whats worse, I hardly have time for my mother anymore. What is stopping me from driving up north and trying to help my mother? My job and my commitment towards it.

i dont know if I am lying to myself in thinking that driving up would not make much difference. Even if I do drive up and meet her, what am I to do? What is the right thing to do? Admit her? How? Create a scene, strap her down, tie her up and drag her to the mental hospital like some deraged mental case? Can you call that her right thing to do? Or do we continue to respect her free will and action and allow her to do as she pleases? In respecting her actions and will, we preserve her dignity and respect, but at what cause? Would that be there 'righter' thing to do?

Just a few days ago, I had a nightmare of sorts; I dreamt that I received a phone call when I am work, on the line is my brother, telling me that he just received news that my mother had just passed away. Here's the unimaginable thing; I practically willed myself to wake up from that dream. Somehow, the dream stopped there, as if even in my dreams I am not prepared to face such a day yet. The intense feeling of guilt, anger, sadness and loss would probably be too much for me. I keep telling myself not to let that day come. I keep telling myself I have to take charge to make sure my mother remains safe... but what should I do? How?.......

I feel like my 5 year old self again, having the same old dream of loosing my parents again... only this time, mom and dad aren't next door for me to cry to anymore............

Trip to Penang Part 2

2008-01-18T13:36:00.001+08:00

Famous Char Koay teow?

Every Chinese makan shop you go to will surely have one hawker selling on item: char koay teow a.k.a fried kpay teow or fried flat noodles if you are totally alien to malaysian food. But they dont just give it any name like Ah Chongs fried koay teow or Boons Best Fried..etc... it can and only has one name... Penang Char Koay teow. Not Melaka, not Johor, not Perak, not Selangor, and not even Kedah.... for some reason, if its char koay teow, it has to be from Penang, or so they would tell you.

So what is a person to do for the first dinner he is to have while in Penang? The answer came almost by itself. Of course we all know Penang is supposed to be famous for its good food, so good so much that all local hawkers in the entire peninsular Malaysia feels obliged to put the word Penang in front of they char koay teow and Asam Laksa. So it seemed almost a sin not to at least try our hands on some koay teow that literally came from Penang. Where is the most famous place to eat in all of Penang.. Gurney Drive of course... named after the former Governer of Penang Sir Henry Gurney (I think ;p) I will confess, I had high expectations. After meeting countless Penang-nites who swear that the char koay teows in KL were all unworthy imitations of the real deal up north, I was eager to be impressed. Remember I had this theory that the old looking shop with the old looking man would often sell the best food? Well, there were no old looking hawkers stalls in Gurney drive. They were all very clean and up to date. for the benefit of tourist no doubt. But I did manage to find one particular char koay teow shop were there seemed to be a long line. And when you see people willing to line up for food, you know it must be good. That plus the man doing the frying looked reasonably old to me. So what the heck, I joined the line and awaited my turn.

Along the way we bought some fried meats, fried oysters etc etc etc.. it was turning out more and more like this was more an eating holiday than sight seeing holiday!

So how was this famous this dish that would probably have been our national dish if it were not made with pork oil? Well............ again disappointment, disappointment, and disappointment. As old has he was, the old cook dispelled my theory on age with the deliciousness of food. The rest of the night, we were too tired to do anything else, so we just walked around Gurney Plaza and went home to the hotel for some snoozing!

Back to the Photos

The next morning, we headed for the botanical gardens. Now, despite being called a botanical garden, the place really is notorious for something else; monkeys to be specific. The last time I was 3 feet tall and was 8 years old, visited this place, and was forever left with the image of a ferocious monkey stealing a poor girls potato chips. But still it remains a beautiful and green place, kind a kind a green lung for Penang Island.

The monkeys here are fearless of humans, and would attack and try to take whatever food you have on you. Needless to say, we were careful not to bring any food. I just hoped that the monkeys havent learnt how to use a digital camera, else even that would be stolen. Proof of the notoriety of these monkeys? Take a look at this sign.

Like I said... its always the company that make the trip special......

You know you can always have good fun and monkey around without making a fool of yourself.............

When you are with buddies you trust, and are comfortable with.......

Plus, they patiently wait for you until you get that shot just right!

I guess the highlight of the trip would always be going up Bukit Bendera. It took us 2 trams and 40 minutes to reach the top.. but I tell you, the view from the top was work all the waiting and cramming with tens of other people, some with hands smelling like dhall after just coming straight from the various famous Nasi Kandar shops around Penang. From the top you get to see a birds eye view of the city and the surrounding islands, and it was then and there that I decided coming for this holiday was not a mistake after all. We all need a break sometimes, and being nothing beats being among the mountains with the cool breeze blowing at you, beautiful sunny sky above and blue ocean stretching all the way as far as the horizon.... gosh, I need another holiday! Anyway, here's the rest of the trip in pictures.. if I tried typing more, it take me another silly week just to finish this post!

Trips like this always make me wonder about my friends... The more good times you spend, the more you realise good friends are hard to find... and even harder to find those you are comfortable being with.... It really is sad that friends come and go.. why is it that we can never have all the people we love and care for around us together at one time? Its always bits and pieces here and there..... But I guess you take what you get and embrace the moments that do come.. for all that it was worth, as short as it was, always remember to savour the times spent together.. you never know when the next time will be or if it comes at all..... If you can do that, then you will have no regrets in the future.

Trip to Penang Part 1

2008-01-10T19:38:00.001+08:00

For some reason, holidays in Malaysia invariably turn into some sort of gastronomical quest of searching for the best foods in town, and my trip to Penang was no different.

So after even though I had been driving for 5 hours straight and it was 5 o clock in the morning, my friends felt no guilt whatsoever in asking me "Where are we going for breakfast?"

Naturally, I had to oblige, and so we went on a morning breakfast hunt, looking for some crazy hawker who would think of selling char koey teow at 5 a.m. We did not manage to find any, but we did come across this rather famous mamak that sold banana ice cream pancake with chocolate and honey (or something like that). But fearing a premature heart attack (with such a potent combination of fats and sugar) and also what it would do to our stomachs, we moved on. We settled on eating mee suah right by the sea side on Gurney drive. Of course, that was after we got repeated lost trying to drive around the islands. Not bad for our first morning eh? Anyway, we checked into the hotel, and out of sheer pity we all agreed that we would only start out on our Penang adventure after I had some sleep. After all, I did drive the entire night all alone with no one to talk to while these bunch of ever supportive friends tested out my car pillows, leather seats and comfort levels of my car.

This lovely picture up here that you, see.. Thats not mee suah. That is a bowl of Penang Asam Laksa (Balik Pulau to be exact) that I drove half the island length just to eat. It supposed to be the trademark of this small charming pekan. At least that was what it said on the internet. Balik Pulau isnt really a island at all as its name might imply. It turns out Balik Pulau really meant Sebalik Pulau, or the other/back side of the island. So we drove around the island, taking long treacherous roads all in the name of tasting this supposedly famous delicacy. Now, my friend and I have had this theory for quite some time now. After enough, we believe that most of the foods you see which look deliciously presentable and fully garnished and sold by slightly younger people are not as good. You have to look for the old man with the small stall right at the corner preparing his food quietly, with minimum decos, and minimum garnish to the food; they are the ones with the best food, because for some reason, the older generation sold more based on the quality of taste rather than its presentation. So with that in mind, we went to the oldest looking store with the oldest looking uncle making the food and ordered 4 bowls of Penang Asam laksa. The Laksa turned out to be ok, but was a bit too sweet for our KL taste buds. I supposed Asam laksa will always taste like Asam laksa no matter where you go, and perhaps we had our hopes too high up expecting at any moment to be brought to tears at first bite.Of course, that's not all we ordered. Koey Teow soup and tau Foo Far that everyone else seemed to be ordering was on top of our list, and I must say, having zero expectations of it, we were more impressed by them than we were of the Asam Laksa.

Anyway, the nice thing about driving to the middle of nowhere is that you get to see a lot of greenery. It was also here that I finally remember to actually take a picture of my car! Its not a full shot of the car, but hey, if you have seen one Proton Wira, you have seen a thousand of them. This one is actually looking down on Balik Pulau from up the mountains after we finished eating and took a grand total of 5 minutes to see the entire town center. Suddenly I was glad that I remembered to wash the car before embarking! The trip was just the four of us; my girlfriend and I, my buddy whom I went to London and Paris with, and another friend of us, who was really the object of desire of my buddy. So while this was purely a holiday for my girlfriend and I, it was really a time of opportunity for my friend to get to know this lovely lady that we were nice enough to introduce to him!

There was also a part of this trip that I actually dread coming to but secretly was looking forward to it, which was the Snake temple. Now when you say its a Snake Temple, what comes to your mind? To me it was a temple filled, I mean filled with snakes everywhere you go, every step you take every corner you walk. I was even joking in the car that I hope there is no snakes in the toilet! Now here's something you may not know about me. I am terrified of snakes. More generally, I am terrified of all reptiles. There is just something about these cold blooded creatures that just makes me nervous in every inch of my body. But as with everything that we are terrified of, we somehow become mystically enthralled by them. Despite all my fears of snakes and reptiles, despite never before (and ever) held a snake or any reptile in my hand, I have watched more reptile documentaries than all my friends combine. I confess myself absolutely fascinated by them, but at the same time completely and utterly terrified of them. Can you imagine how I anticipated going to the Snake temple. But alas, it was not as I hoped/feared it to be.

The temple was really in honour of some Buddhist Monk who set up this temple and sheltered the snakes from around that seemed to know that Monks are vegetarian. There were no snakes on the loose, despite what the signboards said. This picture is of the alter for the temple, and that Idol you see is in fact the monk I said. To make things worse, the place was really really small, and it took us just another grand 5 minutes to see the entire temple. The fact that the temple was smack in the middle of a free trade industrial area. The temple sat right among miles and miles of electronic and electrical companies and large corporations. I forgot that Penang was a free trade zone and that companies like Intel, Dell and a host of corporations set up their South East Asia hub here. So much for mystic and wonder for the snake temple!

But to be fair, we did eventually find a significant amount of snakes, but they were all behind cages and glasses, which again I was both happy and secretly disappointed with. For all my fears of reptiles, I actually psyched myself into being ready to be scared out of my pants by these limb lacking leeches.... The local temple guide did a good job of explaining the various snakes to us, and this King Cobra was bothered from its slumber by the guide just for our benefit. I did learn that they detect you through you body heat and smell. That explained why the snake did not reach when the guide poked it with a metal stick but immediately erected to striking position when he sense a leg or body coming near. It was one thing to see in in a documentary, and totally another to see it proven in front of my eyes!

Going to KOMTAR again was a complete disappointment. When I was about 5 or 6 years old, my mother would bring me to Penang once in a while to visit my grandmother. We would travel to Komtar and take the bus from there to where she lived. Along the way, we would always go walking around the shopping center in Komtar. that was easily 15 years ago. Komtar was and remains a landmark in Penang. It is the tallest building you will see when you arrive at Georgetown. It used to be a gem of a place, literally a towering figure of Penang. But when I got there, it was not what it used to be.

The place was old, filthy, run downed with an unbearable stench. There were homeless people lying down on the floors, and it seemed more like a place for foreign workers of the likes of Indonesians, Thais, Nepalese would hang out. If there was once place closest in resemblance to it would be Kota Raya in KL. But even Kota Raya has now been closed down last year. There was a plaque place outside not far from where I took this picture, of Tun Dr. Mahatir signing the official launching of this place back in 1990. How did a place go down the dumps in such a short spam of 17 years? We left barely an hour after coming here. I had hope to show my friends this wonderful place that was part of my childhood, but I went away more disappointed than any of them.

To be continued....

Merry Christmas 2007

2007-12-24T11:13:00.001+08:00

Its that time of year again, there is the smell of Christmas in the air, the radios are all playing Christmas carols and the town in half painted in red, but here I am stuck back in office again! Its also my father's birthday.

Its times like this during the end of they year that you usually do a lot of reflecting on how the year has been, and what a year it has been! A year of many firsts for me personally. First job, first trip abroad, first holiday, first degree and a long long list of other items. There are plenty of things to reflect on, only no time to sit down and blog about! The trip to Penang was quite nice, due more to the good company and food than the actual place, but more on that with some photos later.

In the mean time, I just want to wish you a very happy and blessed Christmas! Its not about reindeers, its not about Christmas trees or getting new stuff and it certainly isnt about some frosty snowman; Its about the ultimate gift of sacrifice that we have received here on earth. Want to find out more? Go to church on Christmas morning. I cant imagine a more important place to be at a more important time in our lives.

Happy holidays! Will be back with more post soon.

Warmest regards

Me!

Holiday in Penang

2007-12-19T19:20:00.001+08:00

I'll be going off to Penang for the weekend on a holiday! Yay!

Was going to take the entire week off, but work got back into the way, and its back to office on the 24th for me.. Sigh.. but in any case, the weekend is mine to enjoy!

I hope to be able to go see my mother, but traveling with friends, I'm not sure if its a good idea. Wish me a good journey!

Mom problems again....

2007-12-18T12:50:00.001+08:00

Why is it that problems seem to come in waves and waves?

2 months ago, my mother left; went back up north determined to spend the rest of her life there. She found a church that was willing to keep her there. So for 2 months she lived in the church living off the church and her own money. At the same time, I just started out in my first job and my brother quit his. We both pretty much moved out of our rented house and stayed separately; him at his pastors place since it was nearer to church, and me at my girlfriends place since it was nearer to work for me.

For 2 days and nights in a row, my boss, my colleagues and I were up until 3 am, getting ready a multi-million dollar proposal that I was to submit on Thursday all the way in Sarawak. Wednesday was the final push before my flight on Thursday. But on Wednesday afternoon, I received a call from my mother, she said she was taking then next bus down to KL and wanted come visit for a few days. I told her I could not be there to pick her up, and I would not be around. But she got cut off before I could say anything. I called my brother and asked that he handled the matter, but since we had to way of contacting her, we were stuck at waiting. So I continued my work, kept my fingers crossed that something will work out somehow, At 3a.m., after loading 3 large boxes work of documents into my car, I drove hope to catch a few precious hours of sleep before driving to the airport first thing in the morning. I had hoped that my mother did not make the trip after all, but somehow I had a feeling she did. Where was she at the moment?

The next day, after touching down in Bintulu Sarawak, I receive a call from my mother. The area code showed that she was indeed back in the Klang Valley, but she was more interested in reminding me of the RM7.50 I supposedly owed her. I told her I was not there to pick her up. I asked her where she was, but she would not tell me more than to say she was in PJ somewhere. That night, my brother went back to our place looking to see if she was at home. She had the keys to the house, and the natural thing for her to do was to go home, but she was no where to be found. Later my brother called me and told me he found out where she was and will go to her. As it turned out, she was at some park in PJ, sleeping on the streets. She refused to go home with my brother, and insisted on staying in the park. From what he described, she was not her full self again, talking a lot of nonsense and a bit argumentative; a sure sign of her being in a relapse. She was also horribly thin again, as is always the case when she no longer takes medication.

Failing to persuade her to come along, my brother amazingly lets her sleep in the park. And all this while, I am across the south china sea, unable to do anything. The next morning, my girlfriend calls to inform of more problems; my car as well as hers were giving problems again, and needed urgent repairs. There goes a few hundred ringgit again. Her brother borrowed her car and promised to be home by 10pm but came back only at 4am. I called my brother again when I was on the way back, and he updated me on what was happening. She was taking my mother back home to wash up, bath and eat. She lost 2 of her bags sleeping out in the park; no doubt stolen by people. Thank goodness she was not attacked or raped.4 The thought of her sleeping in the dangerous outside in KL frightens me. Its one thing for her to do that in a small town where everyone knows her, buts its totally another to do the same thing in a big city where robbers and bandit cut off your hands for your handbag without the slightest provocation. How can she be so silly? How can she claim to be well what she fails to make sound judgement on matters like this? Of life and limb! From talking to my girlfriend earlier, I knew she would not be receptive to my mother living in her place, especially when she was in such a relapse and hard to handled. But what is there to do?

No one lives in our place and my brother is just squatting at someone else's place. With no other choice before me, I requested to her to let my mother stay, at the very least for the night. I understood her unwillingness to put up with my mother and her relapses, but as her son, there is no way in my good conscience could I go to sleep at night knowing she was out sleeping on the streets again, exposed to the elements and all sorts of dangers. God knows what she has been through these 2 nights. The irony of it all is that it all happened by her own choice. For reasons only known to her, she chose to stay out in the streets rather than to go home safely wit her sons.

As I write this, I am on the train, back to KL. I am in a fix. What am I supposed to feel? Sad? Angry? Worried? Frustrated? Is it possible that I am feeling all of these at the same time? It all seems so familiar in a tiring way. Somehow it fails to surprise me anymore., I no longer get shocked.

Oh ma....... what am I to do about you?

Riches to Rags?

2007-12-18T12:49:00.001+08:00

Ever since started working, I have had the chance of meeting many different people from different backgrounds; from small time millionaires to regular folk like me, high flyers to the regular run of the mill guy. eloquent speakers to the linguistically challenged.

The thing that has caught my attention is the fact that more often than not, people seldom are what they seem to be. Take my former colleague for example. When I first joined the company, my first impressions were that this guy was someone capable. The way he dared to order me around and basically be the boss of me gave me the impression that he MUST know what he is talking about for him to dare order me around like that. So I took his orders without that much thought. Now that he is gone, and I have taken over his job, I realise that he was highly incompetent and make countless screw ups! The worst part of it is that it is up to me now to rectify his mistakes to the client. I thought he was in his early 40's what wit the way he carried himself, and the white hair on his head, but I later found out that he was really in his early thirty's only, much too young to be carrying the 'Managers' title he insisted on having when he first joined. I suppose now that I have taken over his tasks and job scope, I too should start demanding the 'manager's title. But then again, I hardly think I am ready for such a big title at such a young age, plus, its not what you are called that really matters anyway, its what you contribute. Anyway, privately, I still like to think of myself as 'a really expensive office boy'. It sounds so much more fun.

But the one person that really caught my eye and won my respect was a quiet and ordinary looking man by the common name of Mr. Tan. At first glance, you would not think much of him. He looked just like your ordinary 'uncle' who visits the kopitiam every morning. He dresses in typical uncle cloths and uses an age mobile phone. He eats regular food from the nearby shops and he drives a regular car (no merc, no BMW). Not in your wildest dreams would you imagine that Mr. Tan is in fact a millionaire many times over. He owns a Civil Construction company of his own and does businesses work millions of ringgit and travels around the world on a regular basis. And yet I detect no air about him. No acting as if he could just buy his way into everything. He doesn't wear fancy designer watches, thousand ringgit shirts or use a Vertu mobile phone. In fact, he uses a model that is 5 years old. Compare that to my new colleague; 27 years old, drawing an almost equivalent salary with me, but drives a nice Japanese car, wears stylish trendy cloths, a fancy watch and a mobile phone the price of 'only' a full months salary. He has all the trappings of wealth, but no real money to boot.

It forces me to conclude that many of the people, especially of the younger age are more interested in the things money can buy them more than anything else. It puzzles me; how DO you afford such an expensive phone anyway? Being able to come out with the cash is not the same as being able to afford it. They drive fancy cars, wear fancy cloths, but before the middle of the month they are broke and out of cash. Is that what you call living the lifestyle? Its all just a front, an illusion of success and having made it in life. They become more concerned by how others perceive them rather than what they really are. That is the problem with my generation; how we think of ourselves relies so much on how others perceive us. It is a flaw in thinking that I think is only too common these days.

If you ask me, we should all take a lesson from Mr. Tan. Haven't we all seen or heard of stories of old ' apek' wearing japanese thongs and shorts who walk into the bank only to dig out of their pockets tens of thousands of ringgit?

Demo here demo there....

2007-11-29T17:34:00.001+08:00

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......

2007-11-23T01:14:00.001+08:00

"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

2007-11-16T10:09:00.001+08:00

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!

2007-11-10T10:44:00.003+08:00

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…

The one with the Homeless man...

2007-10-28T21:01:00.000+08:00

I was just walking toward the bus stop, about the hand over some keys to my brother when I saw it. At first, I thought it was just another homeless man sleeping at the bus stop. Sadly, when you live in the city long enough, you actually get accustomed to seeing homeless people on the street. It was just a casual glance, and I was ready to quickly go back inside to finish off the dinner that I had eaten only halfway. But something caught my eye. There was something wrong. His entire body was shuddering. Sprawled over the floor, his hands were rigidly held up high, there was blood flowing down his head and from his mouth, eyes rolled up.

My attention moved away from the dinner waiting from me, and away from my brother who was just about to greet me as we met. I cautiously walked nearer to the man, in a hesitant circling manner. What’s going on? My first thought was that this man had been assaulted, but as I came closer, it became apparent that he was going through an epileptic seizure a.k.a. fits a.k.a., sawan or less appropriately, giler babi. I called out “Uncle, uncle, can you hear me!?” but he gave no acknowledgement of my presence. As I came closer, I saw that there was a little blood flowing down his swelling forehead.. he probably hit it when he went into the fits. There was blood flowing from his mouth and lips and I suspected that he had bit his tongue in the process. I shouted to my brother to call an ambulance, and after a moments hesitance, he pulled out his telephone and made the call.

I wasn’t sure what to do. From the looks of it, he was a homeless man. His shirt was worn inside out, wore no shoes and looked dirty from top to toe. His nails were black and dirty and he looked like he had been wearing the same cloths for months. Lets not even talk about his teeth. To be honest, it was a bit revolting, but at the same time, this was a man obviously in need. My brother stayed at bay. I walked forwards, leaned down and touched his shoulder, calling him once again, hoping he would stop the fitting. He gave no response, and not knowing how to aide a person in seizure, I just stood close by hoping the ambulance would arrive soon. After a while, his seizure stopped, his hands and body was released and he his entire body just softened. I briefly felt a surge of panic thinking he might have stopped breathing; would I have to start doing CPR now? Would this be the first time I witness someone die? As much as I wanted to save a life, the thought of putting my mouth to this homeless man’s mouth didn’t seem a very inviting idea. Plus, I didn’t even know how to do CPR properly, only in theory. But thank God, though his body softened, his chest continued to rise and fall steadily. I kept a close watch on his chest, practically willing it not to stop.

After 20 minutes, there was still no ambulance at site, and the sight of a bleeding body at a bus stop started to attract more and more attention. If this man had anything more than a seizure, he would have been dead by now putting his fate in our local ambulance. People started coming over to take a look at what they may have thought (and I strongly suspect) was a dead body. I continued calling “Uncle.. uncle!” to this man, and after a while, he was conscious again, though he mumbled incoherently and showed no indication of knowing where or who he was. Someone eventually went to the nearby police station, and came back with an ambulance with him. The ambulance that my brother called for 30 minutes ago was still no where in sight, perhaps having teh tarik somewhere before making their journey here. The 2 paramedics wore their rubber gloves and tried pulling the man to his feat, with no success. They searched his pockets and found a wallet, which was totally empty. I mentally noted that this homeless man had totally no cash, no card, no identification, nothing… and yet here he was carrying a wallet. Why? Something to ponder on perhaps?

With the ambulance at hand, there was soon a mini crowd gathered around the place, wanting to take a look at the action, but thankfully, the paramedics loaded the man into the ambulance (rather unceremoniously) and were off before a larger crowd could assemble.

So that was it, and I walked back inside feeling slightly better. I wasn’t sure which part I was more relieved about; the fact that this man was now getting proper medical care or the fact that I didn’t have to do mouth to mouth to him.

“Gosh, how can you be so selfish? If he did stop breathing, giving mouth to mouth would have been the right thing to do, and it would be expected out of you…”

“But I don’t know how to do CPR! And… and… he’s dirty…and his lips were swollen… and there was blood coming out of his mouth! What if I got infected with something?...”

“Yeah right. If it was some pretty girl lying there, I bet you’d be only too eager to give mouth to mouth!”

And the internal battle within me rage on for the rest of the night.

Times of emergency and need always bring out the best and worst in people. If this man did indeed stop breathing, I honestly do not know what I would have done. Would I have rise up to the occasion and do the heroics? Or would I cower and shy away? If I did the former, I would be able to hold my face up high with dignity, knowing I did all I could. If I did the latter, I would have been ashamed and only too eager to forget the episode, knowing that I failed miserably when the timed called for courage to do what was required of you. I will never know because it never came down to that, and I was glad it didn’t. I’m not sure if I will ever be ready for such a test.

My first car...

2007-10-18T19:16:00.001+08:00

You know, for as long as I can remember, I always imagined buying my first car would be a wonderful and exciting experience.

I imagined the feeling of setting eyes on my very first 'baby'... the excitement of finally owning four wheels of my own to go where I want, when I want... to basically have the pleasure to say... "this is MY car!" I mean.. I dont know about other people, but when you were a teenager growing up, driving/owning a car was just about the coolest thing you could probably do. I did drive a car often back then, but I didnt own any of it.

Fast forward to today, 18th October 2007, being 22 and on my first real job, I found standing in front of what is now destined to be my first car...

It should have been great.. it should have been some sort of momentous occasion in my life... where mom and dad and what have you all supportively sharing in your excitement in this sort of 'coming-of-age-with-great-power-comes-great-financial-burden...." sort of thingy. But it was nothing like that. I went alone, on the way to work. I made the decision alone... based not on which colour I liked most, but on which car would cost me least and give me most.. never mind if the car is shocking pink or longkang water brown.

I choose what I think (and pray to God) was a good car,paid the booking deposit, arranged an interview with the financing bank and left.. but the feeling was not what I imagined it to be. Sure the engine purred beautifully, there was auto cruise control.. and the seats were full leather... ButI wasnt all excited about finally getting my hands on it, where I would drive to, or who I would tell first, or who my first official passenger would be.. Instead.. I was thinking about how on earth I was going to live on the rest of the month after using what I had to pay the booking deposit, how I was going to come up with RM2000 in a week, and how much I would have to pay every month for the next 7 years... Or what I would do if I ever meet an accident or if the car broke down, how would I pay for it all?

The journey to work was an upsetting one.. I thought I would be happy buying my first car.. but the frown I saw in the mirror told me otherwise. If felt more like I had just lost something than to gained. I guess thats what you get when reality bites. Everything is about the dollars and cents... everything is about cheques and cash.

So ya, some time next week, I will officially be a car owner.. horay. But after spending all the money on it, I would have to push the car.. since there would be no more cash left for petrol.

By the way... the colour is 'champagne gold'.. or so the car dealer told me.

In & Out the rat Race

2007-10-17T18:19:00.000+08:00

Just last week, my brother took the rather bold (or foolish) step of quitting his job.

It didn’t really come as a surprise to me, since he had been talking about it for quite some time now. Only, I never really expected him to actually act on it. He has not been happy in his job for almost a year now, and constantly talks/dreams about doing business. The company he works for went through some sort of board room tussle recently, and despite offers from his boss to come join him in another company, my brother saw it as his chance to do something different and bail out of the corporate rat race. (Ironic, seeing how at the exact same time, I just joined it)

To be honest, he is not quite sure what he wants to do exactly. As an immediate substitute, he as taken up the position of ‘casual worker’ in his church; which pays minimal salary to say the least. As a result, he is now staying in his pastors house (near to the church) and we are most likely to move out by years end. This being because the only reason we stayed there was because it was close to his former office. Officially earning peanuts now, he cant afford to pay the rent at our existing place any longer. But in the longer term, he (says) he plans to take up a Masters in Counseling next year, and hopefully by then he would be actively involve in some business start up he and his friends have been planning, selling coffee or something like that.

For now, he job consist of leading prayer meetings, meeting up with college students, having church fellowship and occasionally bringing these youngsters out for a movie and yam cha… a dream job really if you ask me… Come on..,.. your job is to bring people to the movies, chit chat, talk about God and have a good time… Can you think of a more relaxed and laid back job? Great if you don’t mind being paid peanuts. (It helps if you like peanuts).. But then again, not everything in life is about money right?

He has been getting a lot of heat from my father, who is convinced that my brother has lost his mind, and is making the mistake of his life. Their relationship in recent weeks has taken an icy turn in response to these events, and I find myself stuck in the middle, playing mediator between father and brother. One things the other is being young, naïve and idealistic, the other thinks one is being old, narrow minded, and materialistic. I think the whole situation is just plain idiotic. Let the old man have his say. He is the father after all, and at the very least, is entitled to his opinion. Let the young man be I say. Its his life, and his mistake to make. If he stumbles, let him get up with his own strength and he will emerge stronger. And who knows, it might actually lead to something.

In the mean time, I am suddenly labeled the big earner of the family, having just secured a steady job (happy to report the finalization of my employment contract!) and earning what would seem like a generous salary for a fresh graduate. How fast they forget that I am laden with debts to pay… hutang keliling pinggan. I have to pay my boss, my girlfriends aunt.. my PTPTN loan… What more, I have to get a car of my own asap… since the job requires it. Only problem is, I don’t even have money to pay the freaking deposit… I don’t even have 3 months pay slip, and there is only so much I can pay each month for installments! Man, being an adult can really suck sometimes… If only I stayed back in the UK to wash dishes for a year….

Angkasawan Blast Off!

2007-10-12T12:49:00.000+08:00

Our first ANngkasawan!

Now, I don't know if you are aware of this, but as I write this Malaysia would official have its first man up in space.

According to the offical websit e, "The Angkasawan Programme is a giant step for Malaysia in developing its scientific and technological capabilities and in buiding its international image.".

When they say giant steps, I think they were talking in terms of the ant world, because honestly, I don't see just what kind of a step forward we have made. What kind of progress have me made just by spending millions of ringgit to send 1 single guy up to space for a few days? Is our economy better? Are our people more united? Does it suddenly make us proud of being Malaysians? No, no and no..... The millions spent on training this guy, and not to mention the sheer amount of publicity this has generated is staggering. The media is all over it, and ASTRO even dedicated a special channel to keep the nation updated on our progress into space.

No doubt, its truly history in the making. But what kind of history are we making? The Japanese, Russian and Americans made their own way up to space, with their own technology and effort. They didnt buy a ticket for the next rocket to space. And that is precisely what we did. And what about it supposedly being the first GIANT step in scientific and technological advances? All the other crew members are highly trained astronaut's with duties to perform on board. What will our guy do? Well, nothing, except eat rendang ayam, kuih bangkit and other assorted kuih-kuih, at least that was what The Star Newspaper reported anyway. (thats it Malaysians, always thinking of your stomach). If you strip it all down to the bear essentials.. our first astronaut is nothing more than a 'space participant' a.k.a tourist. What kind of experiments of science will he be conducting? Well... there was talk about how to make teh tarik in space.. (thank God they didnt go through with that), but the last I hear, he's gona try to determine which direction to pray to from space... hoorah...... For a premier newspaper such as The Star to start reporting what our dear Angkasawan will be eating just goes to show just what kind of significance this is really. We aren't trying to break some barrier in science and technology...there is no real scientific thing going on here... we just trying to fly up to space, share some rendang and kuih.. and tell everyone we have taken a big step forward into ... whatever it is we are trying to do la (which is nothing really)....

Let me just say this... half the nation is laughing at it, making jokes and thinking its a complete waste of money. Scientific experiments are done in labs.. not in space. We arent at that level yet where we can send people up to space and say we are as advanced as other nations... We still have people living in zinc houses and on the streets..... and we don't even really know how to make our own cars without a big brother partner guiding us yet....We are a young nation with so much more to learn and do. National pride is not a marketing game.. Other people feel proud of their country not because its famous.. or that everyone knows it... but because it truly is a great country...maybe because of its heritage.. or its technology.. or its people... or its importance to the world. Which one are we? None... and that is where the other half of the nation comes in... the rest of us Malaysians... just syok sendiri saja la.... No one is raising an eyebrow... Any other nation can pay their way and send one of their people to space as tourist.. just none of them are dumb enough... until now. We are doing it because some genius in Parliament decided this would be a fun thing to do over Hari Raya.

Sorry to pour ice water over your celebrations Malaysia... other than having temporary bragging rights over Singapore... there really is nothing significant about this achievement.... we didnt built the rocket.. we dont own the technology.. we dont have the knowledge... and we have no stake in the International Space Station... Its all just a marketing ploy to put Malaysia on the map.... but others will look and laugh! So much for building an international image... Hello Putrajaya, we are getting all the wrong sorts of attention...

Ya.. ya.. ya.. you say its history in the making... the First Malaysian into Space... but so was making the longest yao zha guai on earth... and roundest roti canai....and most people eating nasi lemak at a time... and now we have the honour of being the first man to eat rendang ayam in space... the fella will come back with a Datuk title no doubt for this momentous achievement...... someone tell me we are not just syok sendiri here... In the mean time, let me cover my face and hide

Malaysia Boleh!

Listen up!

2007-10-04T20:24:00.000+08:00

If you talk about good communication skills, most of us would associate it with good speaking skills; the ability to be witty, to be charming, to always say the right things at the right time. That’s what being a good communicator is about; being able to get your point through with great eloquence and ease, just like how a good speaker would.

But being a good speaker is not the same with being a good communicator. Being able to speak well does not mean you are good at communication. In fact, I notice that sometimes, the more eloquent the speaker, the worse he is at communicating. Confused? People who talk all the time, never learn how to listen. That’s why. All they are good at is putting their point through, of convincing others of their point, with little thought of what the others think or feel. How many times have you come across someone, only too eager to interrupt in the middle of your sentence, because they just thought of something interesting to add, that can’t wait till you finish. Or right after you say something, they immediately jump in with something else to say. The truth is, while you are busy talking away, they are busy thinking of their reply to you. The focus is not what is being said by you, but on what they are about to say next. How many times have you done that?

The world is filled with people who pride themselves in being good speakers... and many who would like to claim to be great listeners. But most of them are busier talking about how great they are at listening rather than actually doing any of it. Good listeners are a rare breed in this world, and sadly, often under-rated and go by in life un-noticed. It’s always the ones who speak up who get all the attentions, always the one in the limelight. You would often hear praise being lavished on someone who has just spoken given an impressive speech in front of a crowd. But it’s the listeners who are the ones we inevitably prove themselves invaluable. In our times of sadness and need, happiness and joy what do we do? We go to someone we trust will listen and understand. Someone who would empathise with whatever you are feeling at the moment. Not someone who constantly tries to talk you down or talks back to you about how they are all the time. What about the companion that sits silently, giving you their full attention, not busy interrupting, not busy giving their own input, but purely focusing their questions and replies on what you have to say, and nothing more. How many times have you given them their long overdue praise? How many times have you actually encountered such persons? Not many I would imagine.

If you think about it, listening should really be a piece of cake. After all, all you have to do is just sit there and do nothing right? Wrong. Hearing someone talk is peanuts… listening is tough, you hear me?

You want to know how to be a listener? Try this.

Listen to what the person is saying. Understand what he is trying to say. More importantly, try to see the emotions underlying those words… If something comes to you mind that you want to say… hold that thought, it can wait. What matters at the moment is not what’s on your mind, but what is on his/her mind. Don’t think of the answer in your mind. Concentrate on digesting what has just been said. Ponder on it, and give your reply or question. Your reply should not always be about you and you and you… Your chance to share will come… people are often more than willing to listen to you if they feel that you have given them their fair share of attention, and that is what your focus should be on.

It’s not just about disciplining your mouth to stop functioning and your ears to start. It’s disciplining your mind… to consciously and deliberately put greater importance on what someone else has to say rather than your own. Don’t kid yourself. Listening is tough.

If you can do that, people will walk away remembering just how great a conversationalist you are, though it was primarily them doing the talking and you the listening. They wouldn’t realise why, but you will. So you not only gain new respect and favour from people, you gain genuine insight into them, because you were listening! Just make sure you don’t go around boasting how great you are at it OK.

So if you ever manage to master these listening skills and are now a brilliant communicator and conversationalist look me up and teach me, because I have been trying for so long and still find it soOo hard.

What’s that you said again? Sorry, I wasn’t listening. ;-)

Whats happening of late...

2007-10-01T10:04:00.000+08:00

Hello Rat Race!

Can you believe it.. barely 3 days after coming back to Malaysia, I found myself stuck in office again, doing work.

It wasn’t supposed to be like that. I was just supposed to go to the office, tell the boss I was back, claim the car promised to me, enjoy the rest of the week and start work on a Monday! But as I hanged around, the work started coming to me, kind of like flies attracted to rubbish, but in a less disgusting way. I had arrived just before lunch, and planned to leave just before 3. I ended up staying to 3, and had to come back the next day. What more, I did not get the car I was promised. In some evil turn of event, the car due to me was stolen just a month ago, and there was no longer any spare car waiting for me. Not only do I not have a car of my own, I don’t even know how much I’m going to be earning for goodness sake! I even had to ask him to write me an appointment letter. It seem such trivial things slipped my bosses mind.

So even though I was officially starting work on the first day of October, my boss was already expecting me to work at full steam the minute I stepped into office to say hi. The next thing I knew, I am told that on the Tuesday (2^nd day of work), I was supposed to fly to Sarawak with my boss for 4 days to do some sort of site visit. I am not that excited about flying across the country just yet, seeing how I haven’t even got my appointment letter, and I have yet to sort out my transportation!! What am I supposed to do, walk to work?

Sigh~ So much for the great start to my corporate career.

Runaway mom, it’s the story of my life

Back home, mom took of again, this time for good (at least according to her). She had returned home to KL just days before my return just to see me. And as expected, she left on Friday. But this time, she said it was for good, and that she intends to find a place to settle down up north. She was sick of the life here in KL, and she wanted to be where she had her freedom. I didn’t know what to say to her, and I knew for certain that when I came back from work, she would be gone again. I gave her a hug, and I told her I love her. I said I would never understand why she would choose to do these things, but that she would always have a place with my brother and I. I hope it got through to her somehow. The next day, I was queuing up at the supermarket, getting some things. There was this elderly man, trying to sell toothbrushes to the customers for whatever money they would pay. He was asking us to please help him and pity him. He said he was mentally ill. Somewhere 300km away, my mother was up north, also mentally ill, also asking people to pity her. I was heart broken. For 3 months, I had a temporary brake from these sort of problems... My mom ran away up north again... I tell you... its the story of my life..

Sigh~ So much for the smooth sailing in my family problems!

Coffee beans & Goat farms...

I also return home to a father, convince that goat rearing is the way of the future. He even decided to take up courses on it.. Goat Farming for Dummys: Don’t Kid yourself (haha.. kid yourself.. as in goat? OK..lame....)or something like that.. hehe.. Anyway, the point is, he wants to get into the business of rearing goats since he is reaching retirement age soon. My brother and I went all the way down south to Johor to visit him in the cowboy town of Kluang to see just what exactly got into his head.. I think it was the smell of goat dung.. But who knows, it might just turn into something viable... and I will get to eat all the mutton curry I want. Dear brother on the other hand, is thinking, or planning on doing some sort of Masters programme in counselling or taking some sort of full time job in the church, or like I said earlier.. sell siew pao... but as of this moments.. its coffee beans.. Not just any beans.. its beans from Sabah. But as of now.. its just another business idea brewing in his head (haha, another pun!.. what’s wrong with me today?) Mutton curry I can take, but I’m not a big fan of coffee... I get hyper drinking it.

Sigh~ So much for that million dollar business venture!

Consolations in Bolehland... not quite

Ever heard of comfort food? Well, if you are feeling down and seek food for comfort.. Malaysia is just about the best place in the world to be. And what better place to feel Malaysian.. and find good food than Pasar Malam right? Char Koay Teow, Tau Fu Far, Popia, taiwanese sausage, cendol... they all have a way of making you feel better.. at least while you are busy chewing away that is.... You never know how much you miss Malaysia, until you eat the food!

Of course, more importantly, I returned home to my family. Seeing my, my brother, father, my girlfriend and especially my mother safe and sound was of great relief to me, though my mother going off again has made life unsettling again.

How do I feel right now? To be honest.. I have no idea. Am I happy to be back? Yes. Do I still wish I was back in Sheffield? Yes. Are you happy? In a way. Are you sad? Also, in a way. So you see, I am really just one big confused mess.

It feels like I don’t even have time to catch my breath. I remember back in February. 2 days after finishing my exams on a Thursday, I was sitting in front of my future boss, asking for a sponsorship to study in the UK. 3 days later on a Monday, I was working for him. 3 months later, after barely a week after my last day of working I was flying to the UK. I then proceed to have the time of my life for the next 4 months and returned home on a Monday. 2 days later, I am stuck in office again, working. Next thing I know, I have to catch another plane (man am I getting sick of them) to Bintulu. No time to enjoy a break. No time to catch my breath. No time to slowly move on. Heck, I saw my boss even before I saw my own father. I start work even before I have a car!.. and I dont even know my freaking salary!! Isn’t that complete lunacy? Don’t even ask how come, I dare not attempt an explanation.

Sigh~ Just pray for me okie... for a calm and settled heart with a clear and focused mind.

God bless you my friend. Thank you for hearing me whine once again.

Thank you...

2007-09-25T18:07:00.000+08:00

For the record.. if I could turn back time and redo the final moments I left sheffield.. this would have been what I wanted to say:

Dear friend,

I thought long and hard about what I would say to you when we part ways… but I couldn’t come up with something good. I only knew that I did not want to say goodbye or farewell.. because though our time here has ended.. our friendship is in fact.. just beginning. “We were strangers ,starting out on a journey.. never dreaming what we had to go through.. now here we are.. I’m suddenly standing.. at the beginning with you…” you know the rest of the song dont you? Thats how I would like to look at it.

In fact, getting to know you, sharing with you, talking stupid stuff and making lame jokes with you have been the most fulfilling thing I have done in my time there, isn't that insane? You thank me for teaching you small stuff like camera’s and going for interviews... little do you realize that in having fellowship with you.. I have gain so much more. The late night chats….. the jokes… the laughs.. the tears.. they supported me.. and carried me through.. and I would dare to say, its because of you… my time here in Sheffield was so much more colourful.. so much more meaningful. I like to think that a degree is not all I gained in my time here; that I would have gained good and meaningful friends. And hopefully, others would have gained something out of unspectacular, ordinary me. Among all the friends that I am so happy and grateful to gain these 3 months.... you stand firmly on top of that list.

You have a good and sincere heart, and you are very passionate about people. They call you a songbird.. and just like a songbird, you spread cheer and happiness to those around you… is it any wonder they call you joy? To me, the greatest thing you have done for me is just being yourself when you are around me and befriending me in such a sincere way. You asked me when the late night calls started.. I remember now.. I think it was the day you called me back that night not long after I spoke to you.. and you told me you were feeling very emo about what I had just said to you earlier, about the $USD. But I had to call you back later cuz I was with friends. U remember that? I sure do...

There really is only 1 thing want to tell you.. which is..

Thank you.....

Thank you from the bottom of my heart….

For everything that you have done, from the small things like fetching a cup of water, and using your phone.. to encouraging and supporting me, housing us for a week, that sweet and meaningful card, to sharing your worries and problems with me… You tell me about trying your best to be a blessing to others.. but you already are! I know it because I felt it.... Keep it up!

I have had the time of my life these 3 months.. and you have been a big part of those months dear friend. God bless you, and continue sending angels into your life.. I have you in my heart.. even now when we are far apart, and I will continue to pray for you always. Think of me now and then.. more than you would your average friend.. but less than you would your boyfriend okie.. haha..

Take care and stay safe. Till we meet again.

From the heart

Oh... the pains of leaving!

2007-09-25T18:02:00.000+08:00

Leaving was difficult…. Not just in the emotional sense, but literally, it was hard to leave!

I had thought the most difficult part of it was saying goodbye to all that I was leaving behind.. The morning I left Sheffield, it was wet, cold and chilly making the whole setting gloomy, not unlike how I was feeling at the time. I had slept very little the night before, busy packing and trying to fight off that sinking feeling starting to form in my heart. I was leaving soon, in a matter of hours... and it made me sad inside. I had spent my last day to the fullest as I had promised myself. I had lunch with my friends (home cooked), I had gone to Norfolk park with a dear friend, did nothing but talk, take pictures and lie down on the grass. There was a hint of autumn; the flowers that first started to bloom during the beginning of summer when I arrived were now withering. Under the blue sky, people were bringing their dogs out for walks and enjoying the day …. but me… I was just trying to imbue the moment in my mind forever…

As morning approached, there were a million things racing through my mind, a million things I wanted to say; just something sincere and meaningful but as I hugged each and every one of them, but I was speechless. I deliberately hugged the person I would miss most last… maybe because it was hardest for me to say goodbye to her of all. Maybe it was because I had intended to say some last words to her as a fitting farewell in honour of our warm relationship, . “You are a public speaker for goodness sake, you’ve given speeches before hundreds of people.. say something you idiot… ” But the right words never came to me, at least not in time. By the time the bus left, I was kicking myself for not saying something more. I kept bashing myself. Of course, it didn’t help that the 2 girls I were traveling with were already in tears, by the time I arrived at the airport, I was pretty emo myself.. though I was careful not to show it. I was in a reflective mood at the time. I had gained so much over these 4 months.. none of which I really expected.. except the British degree of course. But more than that, I had grown spiritually, I had a different way of life, I had gone backpacking, I had immersed myself in a different culture.. I had learnt a grand total of 2 french words (wi & messi) but most significantly… I had come to know people.. I had gained friends.. and to my own surprise… I actually cared for them… a lot…

As we checked in, and waited for the boarding gate to be announced, I though it was going to have a looOong emotional flight home.. But there was to be no flight home at all for the day. The plane had technical problems.. a dent on the head.. and the engineers were working on it. We were issued free coupons for food at the counter. We had not eaten the entire day, except hot chocolate prepared back in Sheffield. But as we queued for food, we were called to the gate again: Our bags were to be collected and we were to be scheduled on another flight. So we went down to collect our luggage, only our luggage never surfaced. While everyone else got theirs, our bags were conspicuously missing. The stewardess told us to go check in into the other flight anyway, and our bags would be forwarded accordingly. So without our luggage, we queued up again to have our flights rescheduled, only to be told that we would have to rush to the 2^nd terminal to catch a flight to London.. then to Malaysia.. problem was that upon arrival.. we would still not have our luggage… we would have to leave and address and the airline would send it to us in due time..just great. There was a second problem… the plane was leaving in 15 minutes.. so we unless we flew to the other terminal we weren’t going to make it. But we went none the less.. only to be turned back by the flight attendant.. the gate was close, even though the plane was still there.. So we had to walk back to the original terminal.. to our airline counter and tell them we were rejected.. By the time.. a lot of people had lost their temper. There were a few girls in tear, exhausted after 2 weeks of backpacking.. there was a family with 2 toddlers.. there were 2 elderly ‘makcik’s’ who looked totally dazed and confused since they didn’t speak a word of English (it was then that I realized I had not seen a Malay for 4 months!)…. And there was us.. and among us, a friend who was on the verge of a nervous breakdown; she had a horrible 3 months.. she couldn’t take the food, the weather or the people, and she was seriously home sick.. and now the stress of traveling was getting to her.

We were booked into a hotel room.. and unexpectedly, I got to spend one final night in the UK.. though it felt more like being in limbo more than anything else. I was no longer in Sheffield, I had said my goodbyes (though I was still kicking myself about that).. but I was not home either. Our distressed friend again could not handle the western dinner, and without her luggage or protein drink.. she was in pieces.. she vomited in the dining hall.. which was really embarrassing.. and totally avoidable if she had taken our advice and gone to the toilet! Sigh~ but anyway.. The airline promised us our luggage, but it never came.. and after dinner.. we made one final attempt and returned to the airport.. were we made up a half lie about our friend needing her medication (which was in fact just protein shake) from our luggage bags.. then they were sympathetic.. and by the end of the night.. we had our luggage again! Yay..

After 2 hearty buffets for dinner than breakfast (Malaysian easily bribed by good food you see)…and a comfy bed to sleep in, my friends and I were more than willing to forgive the airline for their screw-up, and we set out on our second attempt to return home. We joked that it was hard to enter the UK.. now it seems leaving it is a challenge too! It felt so much like some sort of test…a dare.. to test your endurance and your determination in returning home.. which is really fine.. if you wanted to return home in the first place… which wasn’t really the case for me., I was just playing the part.

After queuing for what felt like the hundredth time.. we were told that 3 of us would have to transit on a different flight.. to singapore.. before returning to KL.. another delay.. 3 of us would have a direct flight from Dubai.. only stopping by Singapore before arriving at KL on Sunday night.. that was the one I was on. 7 hours flight to Dubai.. 6 hour wait at Dubai.. 7 hour flight to Sinapore, 1 hour wait on the plane, and finally 1 hour to KLIA, and I was finally back in Malaysia. I found out later that those who did manage to get on that first rescheduled flight to London had to stay overnight at London too.. and those who transit at Singapore (3 of which were our friends) had to stay overnight there! So in that sense… the 3 of us on the direct flight were (relatively) lucky.

Driving home, nothing much had changed in KL.. I was in familiar territory again.. thought that was of little comfort. A friend had warned me about it, and I guess to a certain extent, I expected it to. I’m having some sort of post-overseas depression thingy.. That sinking feeling after being abroad and having the time of your life, to suddenly return home.. and reality bites.. work starts next week.. bills have to be paid.. have a runaway mom to take care of again.. etc etc….. blah blah blah.. blah blah blah…. I know I am not alone.. since by buddy keeps telling me he’s heart is still in Sheffield…. I know how it feels, because to me.. though I had gained to much.. I had left a piece of my heart back there with the friends I left behind. I know I will see them again… and that comforts me. But at the same time, there is the fear of drifting apart… but I guess… any lasting friendship or relationship would have to stand the test of time.. and friends of the heart never leave you.. even though you are far apart.

I have to keep pinching myself.. because suddenly these 3 months feels like a dream.. have I really been there and back again? Did those wonderful times really happen? Because it felt so good. Within the first day, I had my first reality check; my mother was in a relapse.. she had gone lepaking up north again.. and only returned last Saturday because she wants to see me.. She was being rather resistant.. and aggressive.. having punched my brother in the face. We suspect she’s going to take off again after seeing me. The other checks came when I realized I was dead broke.. my father is now interested in opening a goat farm… and my brother might be quitting his job soon and wants to open either a siew pao shop.. or tuition centre. Geeezz.. I was only away for 4 months.. whats with the goats and siew pao?

To continue reliving the past 3 months in my mind (what can I say, I dun move on that quickly) I kept looking the things I brought back, at my pictures from these past few months.. of cycling and hiking by the river in the Peak district.. of going to Paris and being conned.. of getting totally drunk and wasted in the hostel… of football Norfolk park and laying on the grass…. Of watching ManUtd vs Intermilan at Old Trafford… of visiting the charming seaside town of Whitby…and so many more… then there is the small beautiful bible I received from 2 friends in church.. with a short but sweet handwritten card inside from them.. “We notice you don’t have a bible with you.. that’s why.. So, bring it with you everywhere you go euhann..” she said to me.. I laughed.. and said to her I will.. And finally… there was this card I received from my dear friend.. who had graciously put up with us and our silly antics, and let us stay in her room in our final weeks at Sheffield. Its funny because, I had seen the card earlier.. She forgot to put it away when I was there.. but I didn’t realize it was for me. I was going to ask her who it was for.. but decided it was really none of my business, plus, it seemed kinda personal.. so I held my tongue… only to receive it 1 week later. Haha… Reading those neatly written words with the smileys here and there warmed my heart.... she thanked me for my support and encouragement.. and insist that I had taught her many things (when in fact she already had these qualities all along)… this card, this bible.. the only 2 personal gifts I received during my stay there.. are now invaluable to me.

Gosh.. I miss them so much.

Anywayz……. By the time I finished going through the pictures and gifts.. I was in a rather emo fuzzy, touchy feely mood (hug!).. I think I will probably need some time to get used to being back in Malaysia again…. The honeymoon is officially over.. but I’m not over the honeymoon yet… ~sigh~sigh~sigh~

Last day

2007-09-20T17:17:00.001+08:00

The minute I stepped back into Sheffield, I felt I was home in away. The entire week spent walking around Paris and the southern part of England was enjoyable and refreshing.. but there there is nothing like the feeling of returning to something you are familiar with, someplace you call home, even if only for 3 months. I will tell you this; I grinned wider and my heart felt happier greeting the sight of Sheffield city than it was when I first laid eyes on the Eiffel.... because the Eiffel represented a physical wonder, a monument of human achievement... but sheffield was special to me for different reasons.. more special reasons.... sweet memories.. of people, of fellowship... of friends...yes... the friends, gosh I will miss them.

What a beautiful sunny Thursday morning it is, the kind that promises a wonderful day ahead, for my last day here in the UK, and here at Sheffield. I confess I am reluctant, I am heavy hearted. A friend said it all when she said these 3 months have been more like a honeymoon! I hadn't really thought of it in that way, but then it made everything make sense. It seems like all I have been talking about is leaving Sheffield.. instead of returning to Malaysia.. though the two are really one in the same. I guess that betrays how I truly feel inside.. As happy as I am to return, I am more reluctant to leave.

But I am more ready now that I was a week ago. I supposed I have to some point learned to accept the inevitable. It does not mean I wont be sad though. I wonder if there will be any tears shed, or how I would feel when the time comes..

But for now.. all I have is this wonderful day left ahead of me.. and the present is a gift for me.. It truly has been a fantastic three months.. It has literally been the time of my life here.. I will stop complaining about how short it was.. I will stop wishing I had more time... I will live today appreciating every moment.. every gesture, ever smile, every touch, every pat on the back, every laugh... And when all is said and done.. I will leave, carry all these memories with me. I will not say this is goodbye.. to my friends.. or Sheffield.. because I have hope that I will see it again. It will never be the same again.. but thats okay. If I live everyday, even if its just one day to the fullest, I will have nothing to regret.

Have a good day my friend.. I hope i Do!

Back from Paris

2007-09-17T19:21:00.001+08:00

Im back from Paris...

As you well know, I was a rather down with the blues when I arrived at Paris.. my heart just wasn't in it at the time.. I was exhausted.. physically and emotionally. Got seriously wasted Friday night drinking with a bunch of friends and total strangers.. then cycling the entire day through the mountains on Saturday and spent Sunday going to church and visiting more times. Sunday night was busy packing my bags and literally singing the blues on a guitar! haha..

Monday morning at 6am I left for London, saying a temporary goodbye to some friends at the bus station... Ya, it was just a temporary goodbye.. But I spent a lot of time on the trip thinking about them... they had made my stay here so memorable.. Leaving Sheffield wasnt just about crossing borders anymore.. or about not being able to see the country side.. It was about leaving the company you were with! But for the moment, at least I was going back after my trip to Paris.

It was just the 2 of us going backpacking, and since my buddy was extremely bad at directions, the burden was on me to make sure we arrived properly in London and Paris, and not the middle of the Czech Republic (although that would have been quite an adventure too!). Priding myself with at least a respectable sense of direction, I was feeling rather confident. But in fact, we arrived at London totally dazed and confused. I couldn't even tell the difference between the subway and the train lines, or Victoria coach station from the actual Victoria station... all I could think of was getting to the toilet... and when I entered.. i thought I had entered the ladies.. before realising that it was unisex... :-p I had to call a friend up to ask directions.. and even then still felt a bit overwhelmed..

Anyway, to make a long long story short.. we ended up walking instead of taking the metro lines... with giant bags almost as big as us, weighing a stone.. (hey, its my first time ok) We went to Buckingham palace, the London eye, London Bridge, Trafalgar square.. saw Malaysia House, all the pretty parks Westminster abbey, London tower (which isnt really a tower at all if u ask me). and to my embarrassments, the bridge that I thought was London bridge was in fact.. tower bridge.. the one with the 2 point sides.. London bridge had in fact.. fallen down.. and the new one was just a normal flat bridge.. So.. ya... shame on me.. hehe..

By 8pm... we were exxhausted.... and over the phone.. I was banged left right and center by my friend for not sleeping the night before.... yes mummy.. im sorry.. But hey, its me suffering, not u! Wat da... We got on the bus 10pm sharp, and despite a bunch of stinky-drunkard-kilt-wearing-Scotsman having a mini party of their own right behind me, I slept like a baby... I was awoken once, when the French authorities had a peek at my passport.. They didnt even bother chopping a visa or whatever.. Later I found out that unlike the UK, the french are really really lax about entering their country. It was re-entering the UK that was the headache. Arriving at the bus station in Paris.... I suddenly found that I could understand they rail system better than the London one..even if it was all in French.. so we set out on the next 2 hour trying to find our God forsaken hostel.. which I booked without first checking its location.. because it was the cheapest la.. We took the train.. then the bus.. the walked another 1 to 2 miles.. before arriving at the hostel. At reception, the receptionist told me the eurolines coach station was really just a 5 minute bus ride away. We had taken a big round half through Paris for nothing. But what the heck, at least for for a moment there it felt like we were truly backpacking, not spoilt by the convenience of modern day facilities.

We were too exhausted d0 anything for the rest of the day, so we ended up just going to Carefour nearby to buy some food and an adapter for the laptop. I found it rather lame that our first day and night in Paris was spent entirely in the accommodation, but at the same time, I really needed to recuperate. On the bright side, we got to watch plenty of French TV.. and managed to learn a grand total a of 2 words.. Wi for yes, messi for thank you... yay. That was the time I was really feeling the blues and wrote the previous post. But I spoke to a friend online, and I suppose having some one to talk to always comforts you in a way, so I did feel marginally better after that. I allowed myself the rest of the night to wallow in self pity and nostalgia, determined that I would try to make the best of it the next day.

The next morning, with earphones stuck to my head, mp3 player loaded with my favourite songs, and a properly clean and rested body, I was ready to have a good day with my new found French skills... But somewhere at the back of my mind, there were still some hints of the blues that I wondered whether would go away.. or if whether I even wanted to go away.. But the minute I stepped off the train and set eyes on the Eiffel tower for the first time in my life, I was no longer singing the blues.. The sheer sight of it make me grin ear to ear.. This was it, this was why I had come all the way and spent all the money. We climbed all the way up to the second floor to see the breathtaking view of Paris... and we had our lunch up there, enjoying the moment and feeding the pigeons. I wished my friends were with me, but hey, I had my buddy with me, so I wasnt totally alone. Our visits to the rest of the landmarks were pretty much the same, the lourve, concorde, sacred cour, arc de triumphe were all nice to finally see in person.

But 2 incident remained in my mind... We were just about 1 mile away from the Concorde, sitting down on a bench, enjoying our sumptuous lunch of chocolate bread and honey crunchies when a young french girl, about 12 years (?) came up to us speaking in french, asking for our water. I wasnt sure if she just wanted a sip, or she wanted the while bottle, but seeing how that was our only bottle of water left, I wasn't about to share it with this rather demanding girl. I said no and no.. but she kept on asking.. to the point of actually insisting that we gave it to her. She stared at us for a full 10 seconds.... and the she spit on us.. well, at least at my friend, and before we could even react, she was speeding away, looking back at me. We were shocked.. having just being spit at in broad daylight! I helped my friend wash of the spit from his arm and cloths, and we werent even sure whether to feel sorry or angry at the poor girl. People do desperate things in desperate times, and though I was upset at what happened, she didnt really cause us any harm except perhaps a dented ego. Maybe she was homeless.. or maybe she was poor... whatever it was.. I kept thinking of that little girl and a few homeless people I saw the entire day.. Even in lush and posh Paris.. there were people in dire need... who had no place to stay or clean water to drink, with real life problems. What was I doing whining about then?

At another street, there was this street gamer.. inviting people to place bets for his game.. not sure what the name is.. but basically there are 3 round sheets, under one of is was a white marker. The man would swap the pieces around quickly and all you had to do was just guess the which one the marker was in. Fairly straight forward and simple. In a rash moment.. my friend place his only £20 to guess.. he and I were both convinced that we got the correct one.. we could have missed! But we missed.. and my friend was broke! So I took out my only £15 to help him win back him money.. and with both of us eyes fixed on the white marker.. we made second guess.. and missed again!! And we were both totally cashless except for the coins in our pockets! My friend was desperate to win back our money and bet our RM10 (what the?) and missed again!!! To our sheer bewilderment. I pulled my friend and we walked away. I was convinced that there was some trickery going on.. The 2 other players didnt seem just like bystanders. We were in a foreign land where people refused to speak English, and we were totally broke!

Conned and broke in the middle of Paris.. my friend and I suddenly burst out in laughter at our sheer stupidity and brashness. But both of us had our eyes on the same piece, we couldnt have been wrong! It mush have been them! Anyway, my buddy said to me at least it was a really expensive tuition in learning how not to gamble with street gamblers! I said it must have been something in our Chinese blood that made gambling seem to irresistible all of a sudden. But it is the first and last time I will even gamble my money... anywhere.

Thank God for ATMs and international banks, because we managed to extract some cash out from our British accounts.. and we were in safe waters again.

Returning to the UK proved a harder than coming into France..and we had to get down in the middle of the night at the border to meet the British immigration... They asked a hundred and one questions and insisted to see our return flight to Malaysia... and we were delayed for about 15 minutes....

As I write this, I am in fact at my girlfriend's aunts place, relaxing and recuperating, enjoying their hospitality and just staying at home after 5 days of intense walking and walking.. I will return to Sheffield tomorrow and by the weekend.. its ape khabar wahai negarku again, dah makan belum?

Turbulent hearts in Paris

2007-09-12T06:52:00.000+08:00

I write this right at the outskirts of the heart of Paris.. yes I am in Paris.. but it hasnt really turned out the way I thought it would (at least for now)..

We arrived in Paris early in the morning.. I hardly slept the night before and the previous 3 days were intense moments of emotional goodbyes and hugs for friends leaving... of going to Church for the last time.. of seeing some people for the last time.. of visiting places for the first (and last) time... bicycle tracking through the peak district... as you can see.. its been a rather emotional last few days for me..

Maybe it was the 7 hour bus ride from London.. maybe it was because I was hungry and dirty.. or maybe it was because I was just emotionally burnt out, but the moment I stepped into Paris.. I wished I was in Sheffield instead. My heart just isnt here....yet

Sure, Id like to see the Eiffel tower.. the Notre Dame cathedral and all those stuff.. but all i could think of was sitting down for dinner with my friends at Weatherspoons.. playing football at Norfolk park.. buying a dozen bottles of yogurt at Nettos supermarket and chatting with friends after Sunday service... I missed it.. I felt as if I was loosing all those things.. I was.... and my heart just wasnt in this trip.

It doesn't really matter where you are but who you are with.. Just 2 of us guys being here in Paris... the city of lovers.. it just doesnt feel right.. I shared with a friend... I'd rather be in Parit Buntu with friends than here in Paris and missing everything I left behind.

My only consolation is that I will be returning to Sheffield on the 18 for one final time.. to pick up my luggage and return home to Malaysia.. after that.. I will have no consolation.. and I will somehow have to find a way to cope with this sense of lost that I am going through right now. Flashbacks of all the wonderful time from these 3 months keep coming to my mind.... last sunday was my last sunday at this church in sheffield... the one that made me so comfortable.. so at home.. so welcomed and loved.. and I never wanted the day to end.. But end it did...

I seek solace. I need to find a way to calm my aching heart.. I need to find the strength.. what more.. the willingness to let this wonderful period of time to pass me by so that I can move on.. How long will I continue to feel this way before my heart accepts the situation.. embraces the change and go on being happy? It matters not to my heart whether I am in London, Paris... or dare I say.. Sheffield.... what matters are the people I feel I am leaving behind.. how do I willingly let go without feeling like I am giving it up?

Off to London & Paris

2007-09-10T11:24:00.000+08:00

Dear friend,

Sorry for the last minute notice, but I'm off to London then Paris for the week!

Yay....

So that means little entries from me!

Im a bit excited about visiting Paris.. but still a bit gloomy about leaving... sigh~~

But ill be back posting as soon as I can! In the mean time, take care and God bless you wherever you are!

From
Me

Oh Ah Beng..

2007-09-05T20:31:00.000+08:00

In our 3 months here, there has been this guy we all refer to as 'ah beng' rather derogatorily. He has been the odd ball with little or no friends ever since coming here, and his fame (or notoriety) was seal the day this video came out, along with a few other accompanying ones.

I never knew who he was, where he came from, only that he was a course mate of a friend, had little friends and could always bee seen walking around alone in the hostel accommodation. From the time I was here, I have always observed him, and to confirm what my friends said to me, he was usually alone and when he was not, the people around him were busy trying to avoid him. On one occasion, he just tagged along with my friends and I when we were going out to eat, even though we didn't actually invite him.. He just so happened to be there. Worst of all, whenever we were at school organised events or parties, he could always be seen walking around hurriedly, as if he has something important to do. I found this amusing, annoying yet sad at the same time. What was he doing walking around like that? Who is he trying to convince that he wasnt there alone?

I never gave much thought to him and every time he appeared, we would merely say "There he is.." and we would just glance, look away and roll our eyes at one another.

It wasn't until a few days ago that I saw this poor fellow in a different light. It was midnight, and I was walking to a friends room in the accommodation alone and there he was. He was just standing around the bush, and walking about. I though he would talk to me, seeing how we did 'have dinner together' so to speak. He did speak as I walked by, only it wasnt to me.. and there wasnt anyone else around. He looked un-kept, and he had not shaved at least a week, and he was talking to himself on a chilly midnight out in the open.. I was wearing 2 layers of clothing, and I was still freezing. He gave no heed to me, and I walked on. Later I found out that he has been trying for quite a few years to qualify coming to the UK summer course, and succeeded only recently.

But what I saw for just those few seconds was enough to keep me disturbed. I had not considered it before, but the moment I looked into his eyes, saw that blank reflection and heard those self directed words, I knew. I had seen it before in my own mother. She too had times when she would wander off alone aimlessly and talk to herself without paying much attention to those around her. This was not normal behaviour. Normal people dont usually talk to themselves out in the cold. I spoke to my friend, and she confirmed that it was not an unusual sight seeing him alone downstairs.

I felt a pang of sadness and guilt. I had belittled this guy over the 3 months. I had considered him an outcast, someone that does not fit him. I couldnt help but wonder why he was the way he was. Why didnt he grow up a bit and be a little less.. well.. kampung.... as it were.. I was mean.. not to him.. but in my thoughts towards him. And suddenly, seeing him in his vulnerable state, the situation hit home to me, to a place so close to my heart. He needed help, not of the physically type, but of the mind, and of the heart. Thoughts of my own mother came flooding in. Without realising it, I had just antagonized someone who was in a way, not unlike my mother. I have always despised people who didnt know better, who knew nothing of the suffering other people go through, who live in ignorance of the kinds of battles others face, inwardly or outwardly. And I found myself at that end... dishing out the kind of ignorant words I usually condemn.

Those close to him, his parents must know his state, and yet they chose to spend their hard earned money to come to the UK.. they had faith in him.. The 2 friends you see carrying our drunken friend home, they too knew perfectly well, and they literally lent a helping hand, and in doing so, were being a friend to him.

I feel as if I have wronged him, not in action, not in words, but in thought. How could I be so ignorant? How could I be so judgmental, of all in this matter of mental illness? Why did I not recognize it sooner, and in doing so avoid discriminating this poor guy?

He acted abnormally. He did not fit in. He had no friends. People avoided him because they found him strange, they found him annoying because he did not conform to our social etiquette and ways. They were afraid of him because they didn't understand him. My mother faces the same thing day in and day out. And in treating this guy in this manner, I feel as if I have done it against my own mother.

Bye bye sheffield.. and everyone in it!

2007-08-30T22:17:00.000+08:00

I’m feeling rather melancholic right now.

It’s this whole issue of having to leave Sheffield in a matter of days that’s got me all down really…

It’s time to leave, but my heart is not ready to go… I think to myself that if only I had more time, I could prepare myself better.. and once I did the things I want to do, I could then return to Malaysia with a contented heart. But even if I were given more time.. how much would be enough? Its not a feeling of wanting to see more of the country, visiting more tourist spots… it’s a feeling of wanting to actually live here and be a part of this place... Its not an infatuation.. it’s a budding love affair I am starting to have with this land… If I did get the chance to stay back.. it would only make it harder for me to return home in the future.

Last night, as I sat down for dinner with 2 church friends, who are residents here, I shared my personal history with them for the first time. Of course, they were surprised. It struck me that this was the first, and probably the last time I would be sharing with them in such a setting. In their own words, they were just starting to get to know me, but before you know it, it is time to leave. Can you see where I am heading here?

I would not say I am bitter about it… but the feeling is not dissimilar.. It’s a feeling of being forced to accept the cruel ironies of life…. You wait the entire day, but the sunset only last 5 minutes. You wait 4 years for someone special to come along and they appear only at the end when it’s literally time to pack your bags and go home. You search all your life for some place you think you can call home and never find it, only to accidentally stumble upon it at the end when your time is up. Have you ever tried waiting for a bus.. convinced that if you stopped waiting right then, it would appear soon and you would miss it? Then, an hour later, when you neither have the patience nor the time to wait anymore, you catch the nearest taxi to leave, and just as the taxi departs and you are on your way, there in the back, appears the bus you have been waiting for for the past hour. Yes, life can just be incredibly ironic.

They say life would not be as exciting of we were immortal., that the moment would never seem so beautiful if it were something that could be replayed. The fact that those fleeting moments of joy and happiness can never be repeated makes them so precious, so priceless and so beautiful. We all want to preserve those beautiful moments of life that take our breath away; we take pictures and videos… we blog.. we write diaries.. all in an attempt to somehow preserve a piece of our life.. a feeling.. an incident… a view…a friend…. we never want it to pass, so we try to capture those moments so that it stays with us. But no matter what we do, those moments can never be repeated. They do only happen once in a life time. Accepting this fact, it makes our memories oh so sweet, and oh so precious. It makes us smile at the thought of it.. it makes us fuzzy and warm as hints of those emotions are refreshed in our hearts.. and then the twinge sadness comes in and we realize that those moments can never be relieved again.

Goodbye Sheffield. I will miss this lovely city… By the grace of God, I will return some day. Thank you to the lovely Joy that I got to know in coming here. Thank you for the memories.. and your friendship. I will miss you most.

The beginning of the end....

2007-08-29T20:22:00.000+08:00

Doesn’t time just fly by when you are having a good time?

I confess; I don’t want to leave….. at least not yet. Partly because of the place; it’s so wonderful here. Experiencing Sheffield and the wondrous greenery and hills surrounding it has been one of the most fulfilling things I have done all my life. Having grown up in the city, being surrounded by nature has a way of breathing new life into you. I loved walking on the public footpaths, among the sheep, breathing the clean cool air and feasting my eyes on the natural wonders that God created among the hills. I love the English country side. It is without a doubt one of the most beautiful things I have seen in my life up to this point. I could only stand in awe when I had my first glance of the beautiful valleys coming from Manchester exactly 3 months ago. It felt has if I had just discovered something I sorely missed after years and years of self imposed exiled in concrete jungles. Though I said it was a charming sight, I was in fact more enchanted than charmed. It stirred my heart, and suddenly the convenience of a modern city; trains, shopping malls, convenience stores, coffee houses, bookstores and the like all at your doorstep paled in comparison to the beauty before me. If you have a hard time believing in the existence of God, just come see; how can anything so beautiful be created by coincidence?

I don’t miss Malaysia one bit. OK, maybe I do….. but it isn’t because of my inability to adapt. There are mainly only 2 things I miss in Malaysia; the food, and the people I love. You take that 2 away, I see nothing significant that would continue to draw me home. The food I can live with, or rather without. Man is a flexible animal, and eating is just really 1 part of living. Despite what most Malaysians believe, we do eat to live, and not the other way round. The people.. yes the people.. family and friends… those are the ones you cant live without. And it is because of them that I will reluctantly go home.

But if you want to know the whole truth, here it is; I don’t want to leave, also because of the people here. In coming here, I have come to befriend many new people. It has been a time of great growth for me, both spiritually and emotionally. I lead a worship session for the first time in my life, I played the guitar for Sunday service for the first time, I even lead in prayer for a group for the first time, even if I didn’t do those well. I never expected to be doing all these, since I am a person far from holy. But happen it did, and I find myself being thrust into this position of leadership among my peers in church and in class.

Truth be told, I never wanted this period of time to end. There are so many things I want to do, so many people I want to get to know way better before I am ready to leave. I will especially miss one new found friend; a friend I got to know of a couple of years earlier, but we never got the chance to get to know each other better until coming here. Life has a way of surprising you, and suddenly we found ourselves getting along really well; we could talk for hours on end, we were comfortable with each other, but most significantly, we shared as real friends do. I instantly knew I had great fondness for this new friend. But alas, the irony of life always prevails: Like a sprouting bean uprooted just before it had the chance to flourish, the end comes too early, too soon. It is ironic that you can spend years and years trying to establish some sort of connection with someone without any success but be able to immediately strike up a warm friendship with someone else, with little effort. The cruelest twist comes when you realize you time is up before that friendship could fully blossom. At times like that, you don’t know whether to laugh or cry at the sheer irony of it all.

They say life goes on, and like it or not, we all have our own lives to live. Though in my head, this does make sense; my heart is far from accepting. The battle is not of reason. It is a battle of emotions, of trying to come to terms with the end of something, of separation. Friends come and go. Life always moves on to the next stage. We all know that, but it doesn’t make it any easier, and it certainly doesn’t make the pain any lesser. It is with pain that I say this; this will be the last week all of us will be here together, in one place, in one time. Life will move on and though the bonds of friendship may prove to last the test of time, all that will be left of today would be the memories. Friends of the road will move on, coming in and out of your life as they have always done. But friends of the heart… they stay with you for life, even if they are not there beside you.

My friend,

Here we are, almost at the end of our journey together.
It has been a pleasure getting to know you and an honour travelling by your side.
Through thick and thin, through rain or shine,
I am glad you were there by my side through it all.
When I was down in the dirt, you helped me up,
when I was lost and astray, you lead my back on track.
When I needed someone to lean on, I had your back and you had mine.
But though we travelled together, our destinations differed.
And now that I see the road diverge, I am shrouded with sadness.
The split goes right through my heart, knowing we will soon depart.
When will we see each other again? Will our paths ever cross again?
I know not the answer.

It aches me to say goodbye, but I bit you farewell none the less
I dare not hold you back on the journey you first set out on,
though the selfish part of me asks that we continue together.
With heavy feet I will leave your side, looking back every step of the way
I will dearly miss the smiles and the laughs we shared together.
But I am comforted by the warmth of our friendship, burning inside me.
On the coldest of nights we lit a fire of friendship, and took its warmth to our hearts.
The bond of our fellowship keeps that fire going, though we are far apart.
I will long for the day our paths meet again, but until then I wish you well.
May God send you safety on your journey, and that he bless you generously
With an angel to watch over you, in the form of a friend so warm and true.
Just like what He did for me, when he sent me……. you.

We part ways here my friend, but friends of the heart never really leave you.

Equal rights

2007-08-15T01:31:00.000+08:00

5 months ago, if you asked me if staying abroad would ever appeal to me, I would have given you a hesitant 'maybe'

But ever since coming here to Sheffield and following recent developments at home, my view on things have changed significantly.

I know of many friends who have gone abroad, many to Australia, some to New Zealand and handful in the United States. Though not all, I get the impression that many of them seem to have found for themselves, a different and more appealing way of life, far far away from where they were born. I have always wondered
about this; how could you possibly not want to come home in this lovely country that you grew up in? Could you really feel at home in a land where you are always seen as a foreigner? What’s wrong with Malaysia you think you have to search overseas for a better life?

Of course, the only way of life I knew of back then was the one I had back home and nothing else. But even so, life in Malaysia is peaceful, but at the same time, vibrant and colourful. What is there not to like about that? We love public holidays and food like it was our source of joy and we speak in a unique rojak blend of English that is embarrassing in front of westerners, but secretly intimate among fellow Malaysians. Even while here in the UK, I identify with a fellow Malaysian quickly and without difficulty.

But in the short time that I have been in this foreign land, I have come to appreciate how others live their life, and for the first time in my own, I start to consider the possibility of living in such a manner myself. Repeatedly, my friends tell me how comfortable it is living here compared to back in Malaysia.

The weather is so much more inviting (not when it rains la), the standards of living is high, the country is beautiful and the people are reasonably well behaved. Sure, we have got some verbal abuse by certain people on the streets while over here, but the general population has proven themselves to be not only friendly, but warm towards peoples of all colours and skin. The do acknowledge and warn us against the minority of people who just seem to be prejudiced and racist for no good reason. I appreciate the fact that they acknowledge the existence of such problems and go out of their way to reassure us. Compare this to back home, where the issue of racial harmony has been a work in progress from the day of independence. 50 years old, and we haven’t really tackled many of the issues surrounding race and religion. Ever since the 60’s we have all just been put on a permanent gag order, not to discuss it in public, because it would incite fear, anger and all sorts of other baddies that crippled us back in 1969. And since the gag order resulted in relative peace and quietness in our country, we just continued playing along with it, for mutual benefit. We weren’t supposed to challenge the social contract laid out during independence, we weren’t allow to say things in the open because basically we just aren't mature enough to have heated public debates without killing each other, unless it was about where the best nasi lemak in town is. To publicly talk about racial issues would be seen as being unpatriotic and not in the spirit of Malaysians. To complain about unfair treatment would seem like we are ungrateful for what we have, and demanding equal rights would seem like we are trying to uproot the country and change the constitution.

There is strong undercurrent running along racial lines still in Malaysia... just go online and read some Malaysian blogs and you will see what I mean. Despite the government insisting that these 'evil' bloggers' are trying to cause trouble, they are not saying anything new.. They are merely conversations and opinions long heard in the coffee shop. The difference is only now.. everyone can read it. We werent allowed to talk openly about it, so we talk in the coffee shop, and now we blog about it. Now the government is trying to come up with some way to monitor and control bloggers too... because of their obvious racist and evil intent. But racism exist whether or not we choose to talk about it. You know it the minute you here the words 'orang kita' or 'ka ki lang'(malay & hokkien for our people) appear. You know it the minute your Straight A friend fails to enter uni while another so so friend gets in. You know it when there is something for sale, or a position to be filled and the words 'Bumiputra only' appears behind. Its all in plain sight, yet we are forbidden to discuss it. Its better to be frank about it and find a solution than to play pretend and imagine we all live in total harmony. We musn't just be tolerating each other... thats not enough.. because it implies that we arent entirely okay with the the other side and that we are just being graceful in keeping or mouth shut. And that is precisely what has been going on all these years. How are other ethnicities in Malaysia supposed to feel at home when we are constantly reminded that other fellow citizens enjoy special privileges not because of their dire economic state, not because of their contribution to the country but because of the colour of their skin?

Nothing beats home, and I suspect many Malaysians who choose to live their lives abroad still have a deep love for their country. I know of an aunt who maintains her citizenship despite living in the UK more than she ever did back home, and even insist her children have Malaysian citizenship. The British go out of their way to show you that they treat you equally even though you are a foreigner, even though you are of a different skin colour and culture, and it is something I greatly appreciate. When I return next month, I go home to the land I was born in, where they go out of their way to show you that you don't get equal treatment despite your economic state, despite your contribution to the country, but because of the colour of your skin.

Looking at Malaysia from the outside for the first time in my life.. I start to wonder if this is really the kind of place I want to be in all my life. There is a saying that the moon always seem rounder in a foreign land.. or that the grass is greener on the other side. It certainly seems so. I miss home. I love home. Yet I begin to realise there are many things wrong with it that needs fixing.. quick. Suddenly, I understand why so many have left the country.. Why so many choose to earn their living abroad and spend their holidays back home.. They love their country and one to return to it, but they also want to be treated fairly . Its ironic to imagine that you would be treated fairly in a foreign land, where you have limited rights, but not in your own land, where you enjoy the full benefits of a citizen.

Burn In Hell...

2007-08-08T22:00:00.000+08:00

The chinese community, along with the entire nation of Malaysian have been shocked by the rpae and murder of a 20 year old university student.

UTAR Murder Case

UTAR is the sister university of my college KTAR. Many of my friends study there.

I read with disgust and anger at the incident that has happened back home. 3 foreigners were subsequently arrested and the investigations are ongoing.

She was found with her hands tied behind her, wearing only a t-shirt. Authorities said she was raped and sodomized before being strangled to death with a pillow case.

F**king bastards.......

It makes me angry.. it makes me mad.. it makes me want to go and castrate those freaking idiots....

How can you do such a thing? Have you no conscience? Do you not realise that this was a sweet defenseless lady, barely out of her schooling years, looking brightly at 4 years of life in university? Do you not realise that she has a father, a mother and siblings?

You murderer. You have robbed someone of their sister, you have robbed someone of their daughter. At this moment, there is a poor soul wailing and crying at the death of her beloved daughter; the one she carried for nine months in her womb, raised as a little girl into a beautiful lady of 20 years old, sent with their hard earned cash to gain a university degree. Have you no mother of your own? She was just starting out; at 20 years old, it would have been her first taste of life on her own. She would have to know that this was a small step in her experience as an adult. But because of you, she never got any of it. She never got to experience what it would be like to be a varsity student, get married, have children of her own, and grown to a ripe old age or any other thing for the matter... you have cheated her of that.

You came, and you violated her, humiliated her and hurt her. You had your lusty ways with her, enjoying her body, tasting her flesh. You treated her like meat to be taken. She was a human being, you f**king bastard. While you were having your way, she was probably in agonizing pain, trying to find the strength to survive this terrifying ordeal, closing her eyes, trying to blank out the horror unfolding before her. She would have screamed if she could. She would have cried if she could. But you took even that away from her. I hope you remember the look on her face, I hope you remember her screams of pain. I hope they haunt you for the rest of your life, that you will never touch another woman again. And even then, it would not be enough punishment for the despicable crime you have committed.

And when you had your way with her, you wiped yourself, took the pillow case, strangled her neck, and took whatever last breath she had out of her. After having your way, you just eliminated her, like some item of no more use to you. She didn't want to die. She wasn't ready to die. Life was just starting out for her, how could it end so violently and suddenly? She would have fought with all her will to stay alive. How would her parents do without her? How would her siblings feel? What about her friends? No chance for tears, no chance for goodbyes; just an abrupt, horrifying end to what was such a promising life. I only hope the end came quickly to her, so that she did not have to suffer and be humiliated at your hands anymore. I don't know you, but I already hate you. You have no respect for women, though your own mother is a woman. You do not deserve to live.

She is in a better place now. A place of peace, and far far away from the likes of you, at a place where no one will ever be able to violate or hurt her. Her family who survive her will mourn her going, but one day in the future, they will be reunited. But you will never get such pleasure, you will not be reunited with you family.

You will burn in hell............

God.. Ruin that party!

2007-08-08T00:30:00.001+08:00

"Do you believe in praying in tongues?" asked a new friend.

I was taken by surprise, and wasnt quite sure what she had in mind.

"I don't don't believe in tongues." I said rather diplomatically. "Whats the matter?"

"Well, I was just thinking of inviting the 2 of you to come pray with me... in tongues..." she said to my friend and I.

I dont really have anything against people who pray in tongues, but i have never thought of attempting it either. I have seen sessions of praise and worship in sunday services, where some of the people burst out in random sounds in such a frenzy, that honestly, freaked me out.

"Doesnt your church pray in tongues?" No...

"To pray in tongues mean your are baptized by the holy spirit!" she said..

I didnt like what that implied. It implied that the rest of us who dont speak in tongues werent really baptized by the Holy spirit yet.. as if to say... we arent as holy as her. But I didnt want to dwell or argue about the matter. This was a matter of choice and belief, and I wasnt in the mood to argue about spirituality and religion.

"Is there something in particular that you are concerned about?" I asked, shifting the conversation to safer and more common waters.

"They (meaning some guys staying in the hostel) are organizing a private party at the common room, 10 guys, 10 girls, by invitation only, and my friend is going." she said.

Is seems this friend got all fired up over the party because (a)there was going to be a lot of drinking (which was probably a deadly sin to her) and (b) the party flier stated the purpose as:Just to get drunk. and so, completely disapproving of her friend attending and also the party itself, she felt that a prayer session, tongues and all was required for some divine intervention.. to burn down the common room or to give all the guys there hemorrhoids or something.. I wouldnt know..

I sensed that this was a tricky conversation, with obviously clashing views between her and myself concerning religion, freedom, privacy and the right of others to host a party and get drunk for all we cared. And this was where I stood.

I could perfectly understand her need to protect her friend's chastity against a bunch of itchy wolves trying to get lucky. But she was making some pretty big assumptions.

Firstly she would assume that her friend would go. everyone at the party to get dead drunk and intoxicated. And also that just a few drinks would be enough to get all 10 female attendees to uncross their legs, and finally that this was the guy's purpose in the first place, and that they would actually bed this women on a scale of 10, which arguably could be called date rape if the girls were unusually intoxicated.

The guys have the right to have a party if they wish. Heck, its in the common room! An open lounge. How dodgy will that get? And anyone invited to would have the choice to go or refuse. Its not really our place to forbid people attend. We are their friends, not their moms. And even if they do go, things happen, liquour flows and legs get uncrossed.. its really their actions and their choice, and certainly their responsibility. We can advice our friends and warn them against going the wrong way, but we arent there to be moral police, to catch and condemn others for what we think is wrong. Others will beg to differ.. Hey its a free country back and in Malaysia, and so here in the UK. Lastly, whatever it is, people must be allowed to make their own mistakes. Its painful to see, and we all try to prevent others from making mistakes that we are aware of.. But some just have to learn things the hard way. Its the only way we really learn.

But she was not going to hear any of my liberal mumbo jumbo secular view of life.

She told me about how they have in the past, through the power of prayer, in tongues foiled a similar 'sin-infested' party back in Malaysia, where there was a gathering of people, sexy wear theme and drinking alcohol. Its seems some old granny living nearby caught a glimpse of the party and called the police who came and pretty much ruined the party for everyone. It was precisely this kind of divine intervention she was looking for again.

I am by no means belittling the effectiveness of prayer or speaking in tongues. Personally, I do believe in praying. We pray for love, understanding, strength. We pray for others that they are guided in the right way and stay safe. But it still seems deviated to pray for someone else's party to be ruined because we dont like it. It also seems a bit arrogant, as if asking God to grant our will to be done.

Anyway, after hearing enough of my secular rantings.. She left to her room to start her divine session with God, and I couldn't wait to change the subject.

Later I found out the party did go as planned. Guys got wasted... no legs uncrossed, the common room wasnt burnt down and no one got struck by lightning.

Where did you learn how to type?

2007-08-02T22:40:00.000+08:00

Here's something interesting I have to relate:

When it comes to typing, I can type much faster that the people around me. I took a typing test, and found out that I can type an average of 350 characters per minute; its not really that fast, but to my friends who average 200 something characters per minute, its above average.

This ask me why is it that I can type so fast. Did I take lessons? Did I go through countless hours of practice? Did I stare in front of the computer for hours everyday playing Typing Shark?

I just smile and say I do not know. Maybe I was born with fast fingers, maybe the keyboard is well designed.. of course we all know that our standard QWERTY keyboard layout makes absolutely no sense at all. Its designed to confuse you and dupe you into thinking you need typing lessons to learn it and make typing software developers rich.

Of course, the real reason I can now type the speed I do, is because of all the blogging I have done over the past 3 years. With a grand total of 270 post to my name, somewhere along the line, typing just became something second nature to me. No more fiddling looking for alphabets and trying to figure out where the exclamation mark is, though the typo errors still come especially when I go too fast. Of course, they weren't about to be privy to this information!

If you want to type fast, hey, just start a blog, rant away about you miserable and sad life, keep your fingers crossed and hope that no one you know reads it and gets you in trouble. At the same time, keep your other fingers crossed and hope that someone you dont know does come and read what you write; since you don't really want all that writing to go to waste. Hey, I did it, and it worked for me! Reading back, I am amazed at the fact that I have come up with 270 post over these few years. I do feel tempted to delete some of the more crappy post, but in the end, its like sentimental junk you just cant bring yourself to throw out. To be able to recapture the emotions and feelings from the past, reminded of the raw emotions of the time, as if being told a story by myself is quite an interesting experience. It is especially significant, since some of the most heart wrenching moments involving my mother were recorded here. These post remain very personal and very real to me.

Here, here.. then here.. and finally here. Read at your own risk!

Cheers!