Turning 32

30th October. Today was my birthday. My 32nd birthday - felt a bit old.

But yes, this morning, I had a moment of clarity. About everything - life, work, relationships, future plans, etc. And one thing felt good - I felt like I was living in the moment. Not rushing to the future, not trying to recapture the past.

Just living in the moment.

Most of the hours of today was spent with a girl that I'm crazy about. And I was glad that she wanted me to be there, whatever her reasons are, for now. I'm amazed at how happy I am, when I'm with her.

But am resisting from giving it my 100%, before I know where this is going. Looks like as slow as I am, I do learn from Life's lessons after all. I've got a "detachment mode" going on, to avoid any unexpected circumstances.

The early part of the evening was spent at the bookshop, reading. Had a quiet buka puasa alone at A&W and observed people, while reading The EDGE.

After that, caught Zorro 2 at the cinema with Acat, who is currently a bachelor, because his girlfriend is away. ;)

After that, followed Acat for sahur until the day was officially over and switched over to the 31st.

To all my friends who have wished me via e-mail or sms, thanks for remembering and for your warm wishes. I truly appreciate it.

I only have one resolution for my 32d year : Just be happy and live in the moment. Do your best. Let the future handle itself.

And I pray for the right circumstances for certain things, to click in soon. We've got all the right ingredients, the right reasons and the right timing. I just need the right circumstances, this time, to make it work.

That's all I need. Just one more time, God.

Just one more time.

It's Not Mine

A living room.

4 ladies - a mother and auntie, a lovely daughter and 2 nieces. A man, not related to them, but there by invitation. From the girl that he seems to have fallen for.

They were all Kelantanese and there's something about the dialect that bonds people together. The wit, the honesty, the blunt remarks, the dry sarcasm. Jokes and laughter all round.

She wasn't my mother, but this is the closest bond I've felt that I've felt with an elder Malay lady, in a long while. Her 2 nieces were not my cousins, but their warmth and receptiveness to me, defied distance and family lines.

This girl on my shoulder is not my wife/girlfriend, but for all her flirtations and warm displays of affection, she might as well, have been. And everyone else, seems to treat us, like an item - like an unspoken understanding.

Shared cake, cookies and apple juice - we ate like a couple - like newlyweds.

And I guess it helped that I've fallen for her. If only I'd care to admit how much, to myself.

There were approval and acceptance. I was not in my home or within the confines of my family circle - but the familiarity and warmth of it all, made me feel at home. They were down to earth and unpretentious.

She was not someone that hid me from the rest of the world. She opened up her world to me - in the last few days, I've met her mother, her father, her siblings and her cousins. I felt welcomed.

And it felt good. This was exactly what I was looking for.

Family. Warmth. Acceptance. And Love.

I got comfortable, suddenly feeling, that I wanted the moment to last.

And then I reminded myself - this is not my family, this is not my home and this girl whom I love is not my wife/girlfriend. In fact, aside from her conflicting signals and actions, I have no verbal confirmation that she feels as intensely as I do about her, although there are indications.

This whole thing could be temporary, so don't get too attached. That's my mind, talking. That's the rational side, taking over.

This is not my home. This is not my family. This is not my girl.

I was happy, but I had to remind myself to keep a certain level of detachment from getting used to this joy, I felt inside.

Enjoy the moment, take it as a glimpse of heaven's window and always be prepared to lose everything, that I feel now.

Because it's not mine. And because in the larger scheme of things, I'm not irreplaceable. Tomorrow, her head could be on someone else's shoulders.

After all, she's not mine. And she may never be.

Identity: Lost and Found

Malaysians are an anal lot, when it comes to identity.

Most don't have the slightest clue of what it entails, but are usually busy preaching to others, to "strengthen their identity".

But you can see that identity matters to Malaysians. Race matters, religion matters, language matters, national pride matters and that people see you conforming to those identity traits, matter.

If you're a Malay, you're said to be doing a great disservice to Malayness, if you prefer to speak in English. Forget the fact that at least half of all communications involved in everyday life in Malaysia, is actually done in Malay, broken or otherwise. (Probably because the effectiveness of the communication, would be halved and twice as long, if you tried to bulldoze your way, in English)

And if you question the implementation of the NEP, you are said to be betraying your own race. Ironically, almost always, you will be accused by those who have done the most to rob, deprive and be unfair to fellow Malays and they will supported by the underprivileged Malays, whom you are trying to protect. The corrupt leading the poor fools.

If you have an English or an American accent, you are said to be "mengada-ngada". If you love watching Malaysian Idol or Akademi Fantasia - your mind is said to be "colonized".

If you're a Malaysian, you're said doing a great disservice to the country, if you even consider the assessment of international or foreign press, on your country. More so, if you agree with their criticisms. You will be accused of lacking patriotism, of being an Uncle Tom, of being a banana - yellow on the outside and white on the inside.

If you're a Muslim, you're said to be doing a great disservice to the religion, if you don't cover your hair, you condone free mixing between the genders, you approve of more house of worships being built for other religions or when you question the fairness of the application of Syariah laws on women on this country.

If you're a Chinese in Malaysia and you can't speak Cantonese or Mandarin anymore, you are said to be losing your Chineseness. Even though you can't possibly be anything else (unless you convert to Islam, then suddenly you and the next generation can be called Malay).

And if you're not interested in making money, they'll accuse you of not being much of a Chinese and that you're becoming more like a Malayu everyday.

If you complain that many Malaysians are migrating because we have failed in our process of nationhood - they will tell you that those who left were never loyal to the country, in the first place. You will be told that it's good that they left - that they were thorns in the flesh and they never really loved this country, anyway.

We let the ones who can think and make a difference leave our shores. And then, a few years later, we start pursuing a "brain gain" program. Only to lose them again, after we mistreat them, upon their return.

To most Malaysians, it is important to conform. To be seen to be doing the right things in each identity category - as a Malay, as a Muslim, as a woman, as Chinese, as an Indian, as a Malaysian, etc.

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Identity means a lot to a Malaysian - affirmation of public expectations, is an everyday act.

There is so much to conform to - reinforced by people who usually do not have any context of what they're reinforcing.

They defend Malayness and the Malay language as a tool of defending economic rights - but they've sacrificed/ignored all other aspects of Malay culture - writing, reading, thinking, music, literature, the performing arts, fashion, movies, games, etc.

It is important to them, that the Malay can speak fluent Malay, regardless of whether he can communicate with others from the outside world, effectively. Or whether he has a job or can stand up on his own 2 feet as an entrepreneur, without begging the Government to be their competitive crutch.

They talk about having a Bumiputra Commercial and Industrial Community - and then they give the contracts to politicians with no domain expertise, who in turn sell their rights and entitlements to non-Bumiputras, in return for instant gratification of posh bungalows, BMWs and holidays in Europe.

We promote people who sell out on their own people - but it's okay, they can speak Malay. That's what's important, kan?

They preach Islam to the masses but they divide amongst the Muslims - between people of different political factions, between men and women, between life and afterlife, the seemingly devout and the so-called abhorrently lost.

Never mind if our ustazs from Al-Azhar speak Malay with an Arabic accent, intonation and dressing - that is depicted to be a Muslim-like behaviour. Never mind that they can't tell apart what's Arabic and what's Islamic. Never mind that they declare everything to be haram except for cigarettes, simply because a large segment of religious teachers, smoke.

They speak about being Malaysian and national unity and yet within the racial confines of their mono-racial political parties and organizations, they plan and plot to defeat the other. They never learn that mono-racial agendas, in today's world - will regress and banish Malaysia to the leagues and likes of laggard South American nations, one day.

They speak about being competitive internationally and let the Malaysian SMEs battle it out on their own, while they mollycoddle Proton for 22 years, at the taxpayers' expense and the quality of the local cars. They talk about exporting but they have their blinkers on - because the Malaysian middle-class does not have much of a choice, other than to buy a Proton.

Yes, it has created jobs for 300,000 Malaysians but almost all Malaysians on average, spend a quarter or up to one-third of their monthly income on car installments. They're saddled with high debts, they're short on savings and investments and the only way that most are going to sustain all this, is to be employed for a lifetime.

We talk about encouraging people to be in national schools - but we have towns like Shah Alam, Putrajaya, Gombak, Puchong and Cheras that are almost purely mono-racial and where the Sekolah Kebangsaan, may as well be called Sekolah Melayu or Sekolah Cina.

But it doesn't matter to them that things don't work in this country. That it has failed for the most part, to build a nation. That the implementation of policies by the civil service are hurting the long-term interest and competitiveness of the country.

That its politics has crippled the people, corrupted their values, muffled their voices and turned them into superficial automatons, who need to assert their identity, by form.

No - what matters to all these fools, is identity. Tell me - when was the last time the world saluted a Nigerian, for retaining his identity?

What good is a language if it is underlined by a weak culture and set of values, that is corrosive to its people? Where form prevails over substance? Where the only abundance is poverty and backwardness, exacerbated by corruption?

What good is a religion when its teachers only know how to brand people into those going to heaven and going to hell? Where it is not used as a tool of progress and tolerance and instead, as a tool of justified bigotry, massive Arabization and repression to women?

What good is trying to foster a nationhood, when there is no dialogue and we call any bright person who tries to add to the debate, a traitor? And we make circumstances difficult for them, until they decide to leave and apply for PR in another country? And we undermine each other, because of mono-racial agendas?

What good is talking about a having a world-class education system, when you're forced to pass students that don't make the grade to chase after some ill-researched national manpower target requirements (which is usually off the mark, resulting in massive unemployment)? And for graduates who are half a deck shorter, than what they're supposed to be?

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There is no value to identity, if all our values only reflect the worst form of regressive action/behaviour in a peaceful country. Divided, bigoted, insular, corrupt, bureaucratic, petty and indecisive?

There is no value to identity, if we are poor and trampled on. I mean who cares that the Thais and Indonesians are speaking their own language, when they have to sell their children into teenage prostitution, (in Bangkok and Batam) to make a living? What sort of silly pride is that?

There is no value to conformity, if we've created a people that's afraid to speak up and fight for their rights, as citizens. To question rightfully, as taxpayers. To shape the future as Malaysians, not as any particular race. To think of religion as more of a guiding philosophy, rather than shackles which determine heaven or hell membership. Heaven and hell is a matter for the Creator, not us.

The truth is, no one can take away your race, your religion, your nationhood. It's YOURS, no matter what you do - until and unless, you've decided to renounce it. And don't let anyone tell you any differently.

An eclectic mix of values and abilities that builds the strength of your people, is better than a pure mix of conformity, that is built from the whim of narrow minds and interpretations.

This is a new globalized world we live in. The respect accorded to your culture, will only be as strong as the respect accorded to the abilities of your people, to move forward and progress, in substance.

THAT'S the actual lesson from the Japanese and the Koreans. The language and identity is only a side story, to their work ethic and values. Malaysians, and in particular, Malays, always misread this.

Wisdom from Okri

The truth hurts, sometimes.

But it hurts less than lies that people tell you wholeheartedly. No matter how much it hurts, the truth is still much preferable to lies and illusions.

There are days when I'm weary of trying my best, hoping for the best outcomes. Today, is one of those days.

At times like this, I always seek refuge in either one or both things: music and poetry. Sometimes, it narrates what you feel, better than any self-constructed monologue. It's more direct, apt and honest.

It lessens the pain of reality bites and it corrects perspectives, when it should be corrected. A stitch in time, saves nine.

Today, my best friends are some wise words from the amazing Ben Okri.

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"And because we have too much information,
And no clear direction;
Too many facts,
And not enough faith;
Too much confusion,
And crave clear vision;
Too many fears,
And not enough light -

I whisper to myself modest maxims
As thought-friends for a new age.

See clearly, think clearly.
Face pleasant and unpleasant truths;
Face reality.
Free the past.
Catch up with ourselves.
Never cease from upward striving.
We are better than we think.

Don't be afraid to love, or be loved.
As within, so without.
We owe life abundant happiness.

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Life has many points where it can be disappointing and not as you'd wish it to be. And we can't escape that.

We should always prepare for the worst. And work and pray for the best.

But I guess the new lesson I learned today, is that a key part of avoiding disappointments, is knowing when NOT to hope.

If it looks and sounds like the truth, it is reality. At least, for the moment. And that is the reality, that we must be prepared to live with.

I still believe, that one day, things will be alright.

But today, is not that day.

Time to turn the music up.

The Age of Celebrated Thieves

Something's been niggling on my conscience, lately.

And I don't know what to do about it.

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Recently, a newly vocal and ambitious not-so-old leader called on Pak Lah to be accountable and to take action on certain issues, that had been majorly highlighted by the press.

Let's call this leader "Mr Glasshouse".

Mr. Glasshouse received much support from mostly non-paying members of his organization, for his stand. He received much attention in the media. He was even recently quoted, in an international magazine. There were accolades all round for his brave words, which were critical of the Government's lack of transparency and condoning of corrupt acts.

And if that was the full picture, this would have been a beautiful one. With much to look forward to, in the future of Malaysia.

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Unfortunately, that's not the full picture.

The truth is, this Mr. Glasshouse himself is involved in corruption - despite taking on the guise of the champion of the anti-corruption brigade.

Mr. Glasshouse was involved in the embezzlement of RM150,000 (from RM250,000 of charity funds donated by Big Bank), meant for a socio-educational project done under his organization, The Free Food Club. Let's call the project - "Project R".

Apparently, the project leaders of Project R were instructed to cap their expenditure for all 5 parts of the project, to a maximum of RM100,000.

The project leaders, good conscientious people who only wanted to do charity work and who were afraid that Project R might be affected, reluctantly acquiesced and kept to the maximum limit given by Mr. Glasshouse.

It was understood by the leaders of Project R, that all communications with Big Bank, were to go through Mr. Glasshouse. He would engineer that it would seem like the entire fund, has been used for the scope of Project R.

Big Bank would never know that RM150,000 would be siphoned off, to the Free Food Club. It was related to me that the proceeds were to pay off for some expenses relating to some other past projects, done by the Free Food Club.

When I protested against this act of theft, I remember Mr. Glasshouse's deputy, Mr. Pillar, saying to me: "Why are you making noise about this? Do you want to see our friends (Mr Glasshouse and Mr. Rising Star) get into trouble? And go to prison? Do you?"

It shocked me, that even a good person like Mr. Pillar, would condone corruption, despite the fact that he was in a direct position in Free Food Club's Exco, to intervene. And that he looked at my rightful intervention as a betrayal and "sabotage towards friends".

I guess that's when you find out, how much you can rely on the integrity of your friends. What do you do, when it is your friends who have become thieves?

Push comes to shove, they will keep silent. Nobody wants to be alone, doing the right thing.

Now the RM150,000 is gone - with no documentation on either sides (because it was a verbal deal with the (playful) Executive Chairman of The Big Bank), on the real utilization of funds. And the funny thing is, even after Bank Negara has audited the Big Bank, no request was made to Free Food Club to furnish details on the utilization of the Project R funds.

The thieves have escaped scot-free. And one of them, is today being celebrated as Malaysia's new hope, fighting against corruption and lack of accountability by the Government. And one day, someone in the system will absorb him to become one of the country's leaders.

We are in The Age of Celebrated Thieves.

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And then there is the story of the bureau head of a prominent youth wing of a political party, who attempted to hijack an award from the rightful recipients. Due to the push by the rightful recipients, he was caught red-handed and the issue was brought to the attention of the President of the political party.

And then nothing happened. No action was taken. The Thief is still serving the President of the political party. And serving in his own youth wing too - supposedly, on the pretext of helping others of his own kind.

Humbug. Another "Celebrated Thief" in the system.

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There's a lot that makes me sad about these Celebrated Thieves.

It makes me sad, because I know some of these people. In their student days, they were the people that could move an entire ocean of students, for a good cause.

They were the idealists that intended to change the system. And that was the reason, why they came back. To help the country, to improve the system.

And now, they've started stealing. From donation funds, meant for a socio-education project - the underprivileged. This is called stealing from the poor.

And good-intentioned people like some of those involved in Project R, are being dragged as reluctant accomplices, into the corruptive mud. Even though all they wanted to do, was to protect the good name of their project. To them, taking a stand for what's right, may affect Project R.

And the Celebrated Thieves are now cheered on and commended, as the champions of anti-corruption. They have managed to pull the wool, over everyone's eyes.

And one day, they will be in the Government system - robbing Malaysians of money, merit, contracts and God knows what else. Unless, we stop them.

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Today, Famous Blogger asked me, whether I knew anything about this. I told him I did, but since I was not involved in Project R, that he should probe further - especially for those involved in Project R. He said he will.

I hope he uncovers this story and blows it wide open.

Because my conscience, silence and weakness, is bothering me. I hold the ACA's telephone number in my hands. If all else fails, this would be the next step. I have to do my part - otherwise, I will just be another silent accomplice.

We cannot start treating thieves like heroes. Lest one day, we will be left with pirates for the country's leaders.

And it doesn't take very much to get there. All it takes is for us to remain apathetic, afraid, self-interested and becoming reluctant accomplices to celebrated thieves.

Keep doing that and I assure you, tomorrow, this country will go to the dogs.

1-Year Old Today

One year ago, on this exact date, I wrote my first entry on "Living My Dreams". At that time, it was 2 months exactly after my Mum's death. And blogging served as a form of self-therapy.

One year and 134 entries later, this blog has shared so much, with so many. People who care. People who cheer you on. People who give another perspective on things. And sometimes, people who drag you down.

And surprisingly, there were people who listened and nodded. People who listened and disagreed. People who identified with what I felt, because it expressed, what they could only feel. Sometimes, I think it's because I understand the language of pain, too well.

And some even wrote in, asking for advice, via e-mail. As if I'd be credible in giving such advice.

In Pseudonymous' famous words: "I felt like a blind man giving road directions".

And then there are the friends we've made along the way, from this blog. And all of you have passed through significant events together with me, in my life.

I write, because it makes me happy to write. I write, because it makes a difference to a few souls out there - even if the effect is unintentional. I write, because I'm releasing the "poison" that I sometimes feel inside - it's as if, once it becomes words in this blog - I've exhaled all the poison out from within me.

Somehow, things make a lot more sense when what you have in your head, is written down. It doesn't jump around, convoluted, in your head anymore. The picture gets clearer and it cleanses the soul, of sticky grief and painful memories.

And writing is a way of staying honest, to oneself. To what I think. To what I feel. And to step back from the discouraging and cynical lies, that the world tells you. Too many people don't take the time to do this.

Thank you to all who have shared this journey. Thank you for reading, thank you for commenting, thank you for caring. To those who have left, as well as those, who are still here.

Keep on reading, dear friends. I value your presence here. And all of you have made a difference in my life everyday, just by turning up.

Happy Birthday, Living My Dreams!

TV = Health Hazard

It was a buka puasa night between the ex-wife and I. It was a nice Indian restaurant, the food was fantastic and the plasma screen had some Hindi music videos which I recognized.

The night was going well, for 2 people who used to be married to each other. Better than friends, though much lesser than lovers. As usual, the familiarity was lulling.

Until we started talking about that show "One Tree Hill".


Me: Hey, did you watch One Tree Hill Last night?

She: Yes, I did. It's one of the few programs that I like

Me: Sapa your favourite character?

She: Hmmmmm,....I don't know,...but I definitely know YOUR favourite character,...

Me: My favourite character is Brooke!

She: Yeah, I kinda though you would. I kinda like Brooke too,...

Me: I mean, you know, Brooke is so bimbo-ish. Totally my kinda girl,....


As the words left my mouth, I suddenly realized what a loaded statement I made. Especially, when I was talking to my ex-wife.

Her expression changed immediately. Dear God!


My ex-wife is as intelligent, as a rocket scientist. (The only dumb thing she's ever done is marry me!). By making that statement, she might think that I prefer dumb blondes, therefore she was not my type. Or she might think, that I thought she was one - which was even worse!.

Damage control. Think, boy! Think! I tried to soften the blow - by not insulting her.

Me: Well, you know what I mean - I mean, you're certainly not a bimbo,...but I was certainly attracted to you,...

She: Stop it right there. Quit while you're ahead (*rolling her eyes*)

Me: Ok. Let's change the topic. (Sheepish,...)


Thankfully, the next topic made her forget, what had transpired.


Moral of the story: I'm going to quit watching "One Tree Hill". It's hazardous to my health.

And I must remember not to speak about "Desperate Housewives" to my ex-wife - I might slip up with the "thang" that I have for Marcia Cross.

It would not be a Bree-liant idea.

The Things I Do For Cookies - My Sevens

Ms. Ja and Lita, please take note.

Am doing the sevens test thingy, not because I'm being tagged or because I particularly want to do it - but more because Lita might hold back on the Raya cookies deal, if I don't. :)

So, here goes.

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Seven things to do before I die:

1) Fall in love again and get married to someone, I'm crazy about
2) Pursue another postgraduate qualification in British/American Ivy League university
3) Feel the joy of being a parent
4) Have a successful business and retire comfortably
5) Travel the world (or at least, half the world)
6) Do the Hajj
7) Become a member of the Malaysian Cabinet (optional - if it's fated)


Seven things I just can't do:

1) Tolerate malicious people
2) Sewing - even though my late grandfather was a Sultan's tailor
3) Find engineering interesting
4) Certain chapters of additional maths (still can't do it, today)
5) Be unromantic and a cynic on love
6) Not watch a movie for more than 2 weeks
7) Not care about Malaysia


Seven celebrity crushes:

1) Kate Hudson
2) Wan Zaleha Radzi (yes, she's married but I've had a crush on her since I was 13)
3) Syafinaz Selamat
4) Siti Nurhaliza
5) Kartini Kamalul Ariffin (of 3R fame)
6) Rani Mukherjee
7) Marcia Cross/Teri Hatcher (still choosing between the 2);)


Seven oft-repeated words/phrases:

1) "But it's original!" (usually when others find my jokes not funny)
2) Bohjan sensasi!
3) Dammit!
4) Dear God!
5) Highly bonkable!
6) Jom pi karaoke!
7) Meow (does this count as a word?)


Seven things that attract me to the opposite sex:

1) Balanced liberal/conservative values
2) Strong family values and orientation
3) Sense of humour - ability to laugh at herself
4) Sweet and sexy (attractive in my eyes, may not be a general benchmark)
5) Confident and Sociable - able to mingle and adjust to any crowd, not timid
6) Intelligence/Depth of mind and heart (higher EQ than IQ, is okay and preferable)
7) Is passionate about what she does - A romantic at heart

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Lita, NOW do I get my Raya cookies? :)

Deja Vu

The situation is familiar. I've been here before. Therefore, I should know better.

That if something was meant for me, it will be mine.

That a healthy foundation to a strong relationship should consist of 2 people and not a triangle of 3. And that the end, never justifies the means.

That I should not confuse between doing my best and bending my principles.

That sometimes, you should wait and see whether the other person has got the capacity to love you back. And that you should not always chase and beg, to be worthy of that love.

That no matter how much you think you know about making the world work better, sometimes there are reasons why people do what they do. And if you can't understand it - just try to accept it.

Even though sometimes, I feel that people don't give things a decent chance to work - even when the only chains on them, are imaginary ones, imposed in their minds. Even though they feel something is so right - and yet they have no courage to do the right things and pursue it, in the right way.

I know where I stand. I know what I feel. I know the possibility is there.

But if it's meant to be, it will come to me. Within the correct way and parameters. And if it doesn't, perhaps, it's not meant to be mine - regardless of how real the possibility is.

I still want to try my best. But this time, in the correct way. I should stop bending over backwards, for people who don't know themselves all that well.

If it's meant to be, it shall be mine. If it's not, it's just another of heaven's windows that I've passed by, which was meant for someone else.

If I'm worth it, then it's about time that I let the other party make that first move and take that risk. The ones which I've been too willing to take for others, in the past.

It's deja vu - but this time, I'm taking a different path. Today, I want to respect myself a bit more. Because I think I deserve to be loved, in the way that I have always loved.

Wholeheartedly.

Goodbye, Adorable Girl

The SMS from Irene shocked and chilled me to the bone.

A dear friend of mine during my London days, Marina, had passed away. Her return to Rahmatullah left behind a loving husband, Arihan, whom we nicknamed Bo and (if I'm not wrong) one child.

The grief, hit me like a wave. My eyes started tearing up - I can't believe she was gone. I imagined what it was like to be in Bo's shoes right now - losing his wife so early on and 2 weeks, before Syawal too. It overwhelmed me.

Oh, dear God. Betapa getir ujianmu, terhadap hambamu.

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Marina is an adorable girl. She's sweet, pleasant, warm and genuine in her mannerisms. She's cute and when she smiled or laughed, the whole room would light up.

And sometimes, she can be quite trusting and unintentionally blur. :)

I used to have a gala time, pulling her leg about "scientific facts" which could not possibly, be true (like Milo came from a protein extract that came from a certain anatomic part of a crocodile - which is why you become "sihat dan kuat"). And she used to believe me - or anyone else for that matter - until laughter broke out, to confirm that she had been duped.

And she was good-natured and always took it in good stride - always willing to laugh at herself, as much as we were willing to laugh at her. I remember the student days and how much Bo loved and adored her.

Theirs was a hot, sizzling romance that said a lot more in mutual loving glances and playful gestures, than words. It was mature and secure. It didn't need to gush like young love, usually does.

Marina was very close to one of the girls I used to date in London, named June (not her real name). She was also close to 2 other girls, Nenn and Lily. The 4 of them and their boyfriends, shared a lot of memorable moments, together. The 4 girls were inseparable - although June was the closest to her.

I remember one particularly hilarious event when Marina watched a movie with us - it was a horror movie. She was so jolted by the scare, that popcorn was flying in the air. And some landed (and remained) on our hair! I was so amused, I laughed at her, all the way home.

I remember her being in the dikir barat team with Bo, on Malam Bakti. Their support and encouragement for my idea of Malam Bakti, was immeasurable.

I remember the gatherings at Reza's house in London, with Bo, Marina and 3 other couples. The jokes, the laughter, the bantering and making fun of each other.

As is usual, once we returned from the UK, the group drifted apart, what with work and family and everything else.

And we did not make time to see each other, as often as we'd like, although the promises were far more frequent. The last time I saw Marina and Bo together, was at my Hari Raya Open House - 2 years ago. Although I did see Bo, once in a while, in Menara Telekom, when I had meetings there.

And now, she's gone. Sweet little Marina is gone.

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Dear God,....thank you for the time that you have lent her to us, in this lifetime. In her short lifetime, she has touched and enriched the lives of many, with her warm and genuine ways. Keep her soul blessed, always.

And God,...please give Bo and his child, the emotional strength and faith to get through this trying period. Let him not be shy of reaching out to us, if he needed a shoulder to lean on. Because he has many friends that will be there for him.

And Marina,...you will be missed. So badly, by so many. I don't think I'll ever adjust to the fact, that I'll never see you again. Thank you for all the warmth, the smiles and laughter.

Goodbye, Adorable Girl.

Al-Fatihah.

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p.s. For those of you reading this, if there are persons close to you that you have not heard from in a long while - pick up that phone and let them know that you miss catching up, with them.

Because honestly, we don't know how much borrowed time, we've got left with them.

The living should never be taken for granted. Nor should Life.

The Passing of The Nation's First Lady

The wife of our beloved Prime Minister, Datin Seri Endon Mahmood, passed away this morning at 7.55 a.m., in the Prime Minister's official residence, Seri Perdana, in Putrajaya.

She had been battling breast cancer, for the last few years of her life. Recent newspaper reports for the last few days, have indicated that she was getting better - so, this piece of news came as quite a shock to me.

Our condolences and deepest sympathies goes to Pak Lah and his family, on our great loss. May Allah bless her soul, always.

Al-Fatihah.

Tempting Fate

A chat with a dear friend tonight, got me thinking about Fate.

Yes, Fate.

You can't foresee it. You can't anticipate it - there's no pattern, no rhyme, no reason. Sometimes, it's on your side and sometimes, it's not. Regardless of the effort you make - you can try very hard and still fail or not try very hard and yet succeed. The best laid plans can go wrong or the lucky big break, could make things better than good.

Sometimes, you ask for it and sometimes, you don't and it just unexpectedly turns up, at your doorstep. Sometimes, it becomes a convenient blaming point for our omissions and lack of effort.

And on hindsight, good or bad, we always accept it. For some of us, it's a pillar of belief in our religion - the conclusion decided for us, by the Almighty.

Whether we understand it or not - we believe that whatever has happened, has happened for the greater good. An assumption of "hikmah" is always there - that there's a point to all the things that have happened to us - which may or may not be apparent to us, in future.

And to me, this is what makes the human being a spectacular creature.

We work hard in any area of our lives to improve our probabilities of a desired success. Because, we don't know what the conclusion will be. Even if there is a 1% chance of failure - it could still happen. And if that 1% probability materializes, chances are, most of us will blame it on Fate.

And move on from there. And come back to fight another day, tomorrow. Again, with no guarantees of success (or certainty of failure) - the human spirit is a resilient thing.

Because it dares to dream. It dares to desire, to ask for more, to relentlessly pursue, to risk failing. But we come back each day, to increase our probabilities in achieving what we want to achieve - be it in our careers, our personal and family life, our contribution to public life or our efforts for the next world.

We do our best and we look towards Fate to smile towards us and grant us our wishes. And we pray too, so that God may sway Fate's lovely touch to our lives, perhaps in the form that we want it to take.

Fate may choose to be kind to you and give you what you want. Fate may surprise you and divert you from your original plans. And yet the conclusions could be better (or worse) than what you had planned.

Fate may choose to be cruel to you and take away what you have or deny you the thing that you want most. Or it may act cruelly, to be kind to you - the recognition of such hidden blessings, is on the reflection of the thinker.

Or Fate may deprive you the opportunity of trying altogether, in some cases. Fate may cripple you in any way it chooses - be it via a man-made or God-made disaster.

Some get frustrated and never try again. And they leave it to Fate to decide where they will end up. Even the conclusion of an act of omission, of doing nothing and "drifting" - may be considered Fate. And because we didn't make an effort, we attribute where we've ended up, to Fate. A cop-out blamed on God.

Fate is like being married to a Roman Catholic woman. You may think her unpredictable, fickle, volatile. You may love her or hate her. But you're stuck with her for your lifetime.

And that is how mortal we are. A bunch of creatures, running around, chasing probabilities but submitting to the mercy of Fate, when things do not go as planned. It gives an entirely new paradigm to the word - powerless. We are not in control of anything - except for our own willpower, deeds, prayer and efforts.

If you think about it, even living is an act of submission to a Higher Power. Because it recognizes that we have no control over the final conclusion - we can only try to tempt Fate and improve our probabilities of success. Nothing else.

But human beings strive everyday of their lives. For need, for survival, for want, for greed, for lust, for self, for others. But we keep on dreaming, we keep on planning and we keep on striving, despite numerous setbacks and failures. Each attempt, laced with the hope that Fate will smile on us, this time round.

The truth of the matter is, we strive because we have an internal need to strive. It's an attitude, belief and effort that overcomes the sense of powerlessness, we feel.

And if that's not enough, we alter our perceptions to suit our preferred realities -every glass is half-full, every success is due to a formula and goes to those deserving, every failure is a lesson, every obstacle is a challenge, every calamity is a test for the good/punishment for the evil and every mind is limitless.

And we need to give a reason and justification to everything. So that we may believe in a just world - where good people get their rewards and bad people their just desserts. It's too disturbing for us to think that misfortune and calamities are random.


But go on. Dare to dream. Make your plans. Do your best. Because you need to believe and striving for things in this world or the next, gives you a purpose. And purpose gives your life meaning.

Man proposes, God disposes. That is the final truth.

And whichever way Fate turns and becomes a verdict on your plans, efforts and dreams, at that particular time - accepting that conclusion is an act of submission. Both in gratefulness or in overcoming disappointment.

Only grief, fear and resignation can keep you away from His blessings and providence. Giving up out of fear of disappointment, frustration or failure, is an act of an ingrate. One who refuses to submit to a Higher Will.

And bouncing back and striving again on another day, more informed, more determined, more knowledgeable, more refined, more resilient, more patient and with your faith intact - that is what makes us, God's finest beings.

And to take another gamble at life, to tempt Lady Fate. Don't be afraid - go on and roll that dice.

Since you're not in control of any conclusions and neither is anyone else - what have you got to lose?

Acceptance

This entry will not be a cheerful one. For those having a good day so far, please turn away. I'm in blog therapy.

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This will be my final entry on you, N.

I was checking my Friendster account today for new messages and friend requests when I saw Y's profile there.

Seems like she had a blog. And even though I knew that her blog would somehow lead to you, I clicked on the link anyway.

And there you were, in a photo with your fellow "angels" and closest confidants. You still looked good, N. But most importantly, you were smiling and you looked happy. And a part of me was glad.

I found out that the photo was taken on the same night that I almost bumped into you. That it was Y's birthday you were celebrating there, that night.

I continued reading Y's blog. And there was an entry there, about your birthday and the luau they threw for you. And more photos, too. Of you and the girls. Of you together with him.

I noticed that he wears his shirt (and the buttons) just like I do, nowadays. I wonder whether you had taught me to dress that way, because it reminded you of him. Not that it matters now. That's all in the past.


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Anyway, since I've forgotten (which must have been deliberate), Happy Belated Birthday. May the year ahead be kind to you.

I also found out that you've left the Company. Am happy for you. There certainly are better and bigger things for you, out there - than working for The Beast or the spineless CEO.

I'm quite confident that you will do well in the future, whichever path you may choose. Have confidence, don't be afraid - you're better than what you think you are.

It's a strange feeling. I looked at your photos and there's so much, I miss about you. There's so much, I miss about us. No one makes me feel loved, like you did.

But there's a part of me, that's happy for you. And I know, he will take good care of you. He's his own man - different from me - but he's a good man. And he will always have, my lifetime envy. For the future that he will have with you.

And since you've made your choice, I hope you will make the best of what you have.

I wish him happiness. And I wish you happiness, N. All the happiness in the world.

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The bitterness, seems to be gone. I'm not angry at you anymore. And what's left of the grief and sadness, is slowly seeping away. I will heal with time. And what the future holds for me - only God knows.

Thank you for the greatest of times, N. Thank you for all the lessons. Thank you for loving me at one time, in your life. And I hope, in some small way, you've benefited from our time, together. And that maybe some of the lessons learnt, will make your life better, in future.

Or maybe I'm just wishing that, so that there could be a point to all that's happened, between us.

Perhaps, it's a Ramadhan blessing - that today, I accept what has happened, between us. And I'm letting you go. Don't worry, the truth on some things will remain buried with me, forever.

Without anger, with some sadness,....and with all my love and best wishes, for your future happiness, with him.

Selamat Bertunang and Selamat Pengantin Baru, N.

My parting advice to you, is this - live, learn and love, to the fullest. Always.

Goodbye, N.

My Favourite Things

Passed by the neighbour's condo just now and heard a song from the "The Sound of Music" playing.

It was that song about Maria's favourite things - something like "raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens, and warm woolen mittens,...blueberry apple pie tied up with strings" etc.

As a kid, I used to spend a lot of time in front of the TV. Amongst the Regent's Ville boys, I was the maestro for TV programs. I knew them all and I remembered them all. Although Mr. Boy Tarantino came a close second and he was the best on movies, with me coming a close second.

But I loved "The Sound of Music". I still sing "Edelweiss" in karaoke, sometimes. (much to the horror of my friends) And I had a huge crush on the actress that played the role of Liesl, in that movie. What I'd do to be that Nazi soldier boy, Ralf, in that "Sixteen Going on Seventeen" song and dance routine, they did in the gazebo.


But it got me thinking about some of my favourite things (or previous experiences) in life. I think some of the top on my list is (in no particular order):


1) Having the curry mee at La Manila, Midvalley Megamall, before catching a movie;

2) A great karaoke session with the gang, where my vocals would actually surprise me - preferably, in front of a lady that I'd like to impress;

3) Having lunch in a 12th century Andalusian house belonging to Salma Garaudy in Cordoba, accompanied by the flamenco guitar-playing of Chapi Pineda, a world-class flamenco guitarist;

4) Admiring the beauty of the women in Granada, Spain in summer, with their baked golden brown tan and summer dresses. The most beautiful women in the world are in Spain!;

5) The noise and nightlife in Leicester Square in London - it's just impossible to be depressed there;

6) The spires, old buildings, bookshops and bicycle-riding students of Oxford town - especially in the pale sunlight tint of impending dusk;

7) A top-floor resort room facing the seaside in Pangkor Pan Pacific and sitting on the balcony and letting the sea breeze soothe and pamper you;

8) Paris. Everything about Paris. And the feel of warm lips in a long lingering kiss in Paris, in the midst of winter;

9) The scenery in the drive down from Christchurch to Queenstown in South Island, New Zealand. If there was a landscape that was meant to be heaven on earth, it would look like that;

10) The serenity, beauty and internal design of the seaside Hassan II mosque in Casablanca;

11) Little girls in bowl-shaped hair or pony tails in pretty pink frocks - makes me crave to have a daughter of my own;

12) A cuddle with someone I love, in my semi-lighted living room, with light classic jazz music in the background;

13) Orange cats or kittens of any kind; (I'm talking about real cats, Thinktankgal. ;))

14) French toast and sugar on a rainy day inside the house, while watching Oprah Winfrey; and

15) Hindi films of any kind - especially, if they involve my favourite actresses - Rani Mukherjee and Preity Zinta.

16) Dinner with a beautiful woman that you can stare at, the whole night. And good, deep meaningful conversations, to boot.


That's all that comes to mind right now.

What's your list of favourite things? :) Do tell.

The Best Moments

First, I'd like to express a note of thanks to Ms. K, for the thoughtful and touching e-mail to me. Thank you, for your kind words. :)

I totally empathize with what you're going through and I can relate. But always know that it's okay to be different, as long as you do no harm to others. It takes courage to be different, especially when you know, that you're different.

And on your request for something more upbeat - I've decided to share some of the best moments, from my past. May this do the trick.

Hope this will cheer you up, on your drive back home today. :)

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I was 16 and I was in Mirama Bowl for the bowling finals of an under-18 competition. Everything about that particular competition was related to the number 1 - I qualified at the top of rankings table and in my first set of 3 games too. My total pinfalls was 567 pins from 3 games and I was averaging close to 190 pinfalls per game.

(Bear in mind that this was 1989. Back then, kids were not usually averaging 220 pinfalls per game, like they do now)

Up to that point, I've never played that well before in my life. But somehow the Mirama lanes, seemed to agree with me. And of course, I was trying out a new technique called the "spinner", which seemed to work well on those lanes.

It was a 6-game roll-off for the finals and some of my competitors was the KL youth champion, Steven (who in the previous week had just won the singles title for the Inter-State competition) and a very much younger Shalin Zulkifli (who was destined to become a world-class bowler, one day - little did she guess, at that time).

My first game of 6 was a scorcher - I rolled off a high 210 pinfalls. (Later, I found out that this won me, the High Game prize, for the day). As a result of that, I ended the first series of 3 games, with 564 pinfalls.

It was after the first series, that I realized that I was leading the pack, with Steven snapping hard on my heels. I remember feeling very nervous at holding the lead and that began to affect my game. I started becoming erratic and my next 2 games, came to an awful 2-game total of 300 pinfalls. My game had chosen a fine time to fall apart, dammit!

But there was a surprise for me, too. Bapak, my stepfather, had taken the morning off from his work and decided to turn up at the competition, to cheer me on. I had never been close to him (a large part of it was due to the fact that I pushed his affection away, when I was younger) but that gesture meant a lot to me and was a major milestone, in bringing both of us closer together.

He was the FIRST family member EVER, to come and give moral support to me, at a bowling competition. He would also be the last.

Down to the final game, Steven was about slightly more than 40 pins behind me, at 821 pinfalls. He was playing below par as he struggled to adjust to the lanes, but he was picking up steam. And he was determined to finish his 6 games, before mine. It's a psychological pressure tactic - bowlers are familiar with this.

Steven struck off a fine 181 pinfalls on his last game, bringing his total pinfall to 1002. The psychological effect on me was tremendous, as my game fell apart and I was getting splits or missing spares.

I remember Shalin shouting from the back - "just play your game, boy. Take your spares." I knew that Steven played a good last game and all I had to do was remain calm and not let my game fall apart, to win. But halfway through the last game - it was obvious that my game, was falling apart.

Down to the last frame, the large crowd behind me, went quiet. There were murmurs of "It's very close" and "he has to spare or lose", in the background. I was shaking in nervousness - but I pulled myself together and took the easy spare.

Everything hung on that last throw - I knew by the way the crowd went completely silent. I tried to clear my mind and calm my nerves and said to myself "whichever way it goes, you've played well throughout this tournament". At least, I would be in the top 2 or 3.

And with that I took my last shot - 9 pins came down. I turned to the crowd, waving my hands up in the air, signalling that I had tried my best. The crowd clapped in approval and a short while later, I could hear Shalin going "He won by a mere 1 pin!".

I smiled. It's confirmed. I won by 1 pin, (there's that number again!) beating the Inter-state champion. And I never lost my lead in the 6-game series - I was first from beginning, till end.

And yes - you guessed it - it was the first under-18 championship that I've ever won! :)

It was a day and tournament of many firsts, for me. I'd never forget how proud Bapak looked and how appreciative I was that he was there - it's nice not to have to "borrow" moral support from other people's parents, for once.

It was the sweetest of victories.

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I was in Ms. Atoki's office, about to receive my first year results. And I was dreading it.

Having never taken a university level Law exams before, I couldn't tell how high the benchmark was. All I knew was that the last 6 months before the exams, were emotionally exhausting for me. Lina had asked for a break-up and had been spending it with her new Brylcream model boyfriend.

Believe me - nothing, absolutely nothing, is as heart-wrenching as having your ex-girlfriend going with a poor dumb clerk and part-time model, whose much better looking than you and has got a Ninja motorbike. It batters the ego, to no end, believe me.

And me being me, I spent the six months suffering and begging her, to return to me. I wrote her on average 2-3 letters a week, for 6 months. No replies came back.

It didn't help that when I came back to KL after my first year exams - the Regent's Ville boy tried to console me, in their own inimitable, unique way. They would typically make disparaging remarks about Lina and the Brylcream Boy and said that I was better off without her. And it would have been fine, if they stopped there.

But they had continue - "but he's REALLY good-looking, ah. That one is not in doubt-lah".

Adoiiiiiii. This is adding the salt factory to the wound, man. Pedih gila. I felt uglier than Kermit the Frog. And slightly more green too - probably with envy.

So, it was with great trepidation that I walked into Ms. Atoki's office that morning. I prayed that I did not flunk any of my subjects, that would be blessing enough. I felt that I could have done much better and I just wanted to see the damage that I had done to myself, pining over this superficial girl (heh, that was envy and regret, talking)

Ms. Atoki took a long look at my file and took a long deep breath. Oh shit! Did I flunk?? Am I going to have to pay for all that misplaced emotional trauma? Are my parents going to kill me? A thousand possibilities ran through my mind.

And then, she spoke. "First, I just want to tell you how disappointed I am, that you did not get a First, for Criminal Law. I expected you to do better than this." Her reaction was understandable - she was my Criminal Law tutor.

And then she smiled and said, "But congratulations! You scored straight Second Class Uppers for all your subjects!" "Even the options?" I asked. And she said, "Yes, even the optional subjects!" That would be all 6 subjects, then.

It didn't sink in. I told her again, what my last name was and told her to check the results again - thinking that she must have confused me, with someone else.

She laughed. "***, it IS your results". She got up from her seat, walked to me and gave me a big congratulatory hug. "I'm still sore that you did not do well, for your Criminal Law, but you made it up to me - because you're the 3rd best student in Law School."

I suddenly realized - this is REAL. She was not kidding! Dear God, thank you for your small mercies! As she hugged me, I felt tears of mixed joy and relief, streak down my cheeks. Thank you, God!

(*Ms. Atoki passed away less than 3 years later, but I would never forget that warm hug. She was a special person that constantly thought that I could do better, than what I was doing)

All the grief that I had gone through, in the previous 6 months - everything seemed to fade into the background.

My first year results caught me in a bind, though - since I was doing a 2-year degree, my results were too high for a 2nd Class Lower and too low to achieve a First Class Honours (unless, I could achieve four First Class subjects, out of a total of 6 - highly unlikely. This had only been done once ever before, in Law School. And I'm proud to say that it was by a Malaysian, too.)

I called my Mum later and I could hear her "Alhamdulillah" on the other end and hearing her say, "I'm proud of you!" - it's one of the 3 times, she's ever said that in her lifetime, before she passed on.

And there's never quite a joy to me, that could rival the joy of gaining my mother's approval.

I'll never forget that day. It was the first day in a month, that I forgot to feel bad, about not being a Brylcream model. :)

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These are some of the moments, that stay with us. Rare fleeting moments, of perfect days. Totally unblemished. I wish for more of these days.

Ms. K, have a good drive home. Hope you're in a more upbeat mood, now. :)

Blessings and Borrowed Things

Have you ever had a blessing you didn't want? I know some people who do.

One girl was never quite comfortable with how pretty she is. (And yes, she's quite pretty). She's not comfortable on being noticed for her beauty, she's not comfortable with being complimented on it or pursued by anyone, for it. She's self-conscious about walking in public - as she knows that there are men staring at her. (This is not perasan on her side - I was easily one of those men ;))

And from what I can tell - anyone that looks remotely interested in her, based on her looks (even if just initially) will get struck off the list. Perhaps, she wants to be appreciated for her other qualities. Which would be easier, if she looked like the back of a Proton Juwara.

But the truth is, sometimes we're born with blessings. Some of us are born looking like Monica Belucci. Some of us are born into a rich family or the children of kings, presidents, prime ministers or ministers. Some are born bright and with many talents. Some can extract money from stone.

And the world is generally attracted to things beautiful, extraordinary and above their (current) reach. It's in their nature. They need their heroes and heroines. They need to aspire to a level of beauty, wealth, success, strength or intellect. And these blessings to them, are meant to be shared with the rest of the world.

That's why they stare at things of beauty (be it in its external or internal manifestations). Everyone wants a beautiful woman, a handsome man, a beautiful car or a beautiful house. When was the last time you saw someone say: "I want something ugly". Never.

But what do you do when you're blessed with some of these things? And how will you know if people like you for you or just the superficial things that you're blessed with?

For instance, you can hope that the world will change and stop staring at you, because it's rude. That's not likely to happen, at least, till hell freezes over.

Or you can hide from the world and not let them stare at you or reach out to what's special about you. But if you live behind walls, the world will be a very limited four corners for you. And you will learn nothing new, walled-in by your own fears.

Or,..you can accept it and thank God for the blessings, that you have. The world will do what it wants to do. But you have to have to live your life and make the best of what you have.

For those blessed - yes, it's true that some people may just want you for your looks, for your power, your wealth, your lineage and a host of other blessings you're born with, or have acquired over your lifetime. There are people like that, out there.

But not everyone is hopelessly shallow. And you have to trust that for some people, beauty is only skin deep. It'll get you to the front door, it'll buy you the first 10 minutes, but after that, you better have something to say. And if you lack that beauty on the inside, no amount of beauty on the outside, will save you in their eyes.

The only thing worth doing is to take time out, to sift and to discriminate between the glass and the diamonds. Living life means being willing to take the risk of cutting yourself with broken glass and stones, before discovering the unpolished diamonds, you want to keep.

As the old saying goes - a ship in harbour is safe, but that's not what it's for.

Don't be afraid of your blessings. Embrace them and use that advantage for yourself and for others - as long as it's used in a good way and for a good cause.

Running away from your blessings and resisting and denying it, is equivalent to having a mind and never thinking, or a heart and never feeling. Yes, sooner or later, it'll probably make you forget that it's there.

But what a waste it would be. What an awful waste of God's blessing.

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Are you entitled to be unhappy, if the only thing that you've ever wanted, is the only thing that has ever escaped your grasp?

My mind tells me that it's so unreasonable to behave that way. I mean, that's life isn't it. Like the song lyric goes - "You can't always get what you want". Life is full of things, of which perhaps, half (or less) of what we desire, will never come about or will never reach the level we want it to.

But is that any reason to be unhappy? As my heart feels it, my mind scolds it for its brashness and unreasonable demands. Who the hell do I think I am - that I think that I'm entitled to what I want?

We live on borrowed time. And if the most precious of all things are borrowed, then it is reasonable to assume that all other things we have, are borrowed too - our loved ones, our wealth, our health, our good looks, etc. We have them for the time permitted to us.

And if all things we have are borrowed and all things in the world are finite, it's reasonable to assume that different things are being lent to us, in different proportions. And the same goes with how we utilize the things that are borrowed to us.

Some will have more money, some will have more brains, some will be more beautiful than you, some will be more successful, some will have a happier family, some will marry the girl or guy of your dreams, etc. And we really can't explain why some people have more and why some people have less, all the time. Or decide on who is more deserving and who is not.

Perhaps, those are the things that they were meant to borrow, from life. And that has been decided by a Power higher than us.

But if we take the perspective that everything is borrowed and nothing is meant to be permanently yours and which you are fully entitled to, by virtue of effort/merit - then, the perspective changes.

You can't expect anything - you're only entitled to be grateful to receive the blessings that you have, in the time that you're given them. It could be a lifetime for some, it could be a fleetingly beautiful moment, for others. But it's all on loan.

And I guess that's the truth of the matter, for me. That just because one big major thing is missing in my life, doesn't mean I'm entitled to be unhappy - or to stay unhappy.

I have been blessed with so many beautiful moments - though none of them, are for as long as I would like them to last. But the range, depth and the variety of the emotions/experiences/moments with each person and event has been at the very most, intensely rewarding and at the very least, interestingly educational.

We are all intended for different things in life. Hence, we are lent different things in different proportions, for us to tread the path chosen for us. Just to see whether the choices we make, are based on the guidance given. Until we are ordained to return to the final destination - where we let go of all borrowed things and return alone to Him.

I don't own anything here. There's no such thing as deserving or undeserving in life - providence takes its own path and makes its own choice on whom to be gracious to.

With every emotional attachment we build with one hand with every event/person in our life, we have to correspondingly prepare to let go, with the other hand. Such is the paradox of blessings - today, they may come and tomorrow, they may go.

And hence, the appreciation of God's blessings - nothing amplifies the concept of submission more, than to know you have no way of permanently keeping the things that make you happy - you can only pray that it's meant for you, for the longest time possible or for the period of your life.

I'm not entitled to be unhappy, when life is not as perfect, as I hoped it to be. God never promised us happy endings in this world - only in the next, for true believers. Heaven was not meant, for this world - only the pursuit of heaven is.

In this world, you can only make the best of it, while it's still "on loan" and return each or all parts of it, when it is decided that your time with it, is over.

My head understands this, clearly - but my heart is slow, to follow. Perhaps, one day, God willing.

Education, Choice and Expectations

Have just finished the first 2 chapters in a new book I bought today (while waiting for ZR at Kino's) called "The Paradox of Choice: Why More is Less" by Barry Schwarz.

And it got me thinking about a few things that I've been pondering, for quite a while, on my own. Some of the thoughts in this book, is helping me refine some of these reflections.

I've been thinking about my generation. Malaysia's baby boom generation - identified as those born between the years 1967 to 1978 - and those that come after that. And the reasons why some trends have become so prevalent, within this generation.

This is a generation that has MORE of everything. Education, Information, wealth, knowledge, exposure to the outside world through print and electronic media, freedom, choice and expectations. They have more of everything - more than previous generations were ever, fortunate enough to experience.

And yet there are more divorces, more crass materialism, more obsessions with beauty, more suicides, more sexual violence, freedom, promiscuity and diseases, more social problems, more abortions, more underage sex, more extra-marital affairs, more smoking and more alcoholic beverages consumption (by both Muslims and non-Muslims) than ever, in Malaysia.

There used to be a time when moral and cultural norms kept Malaysians within a certain confined moral existence. It was restrictive - people did not question what they were following, because their parents, their leaders, their culture and their religion, ordered them to follow.

There used to be a time, when the whole kampung was your extended family and everyone else's elders are your "parents" too - especially on keeping the young on the straight and narrow.

Now we live in cities. Some of us don't live with our parents, even when we're single and in the same city. Some of us, don't know our neighbours, much less their elders. Some have never stepped into the neighbourhood mosque and met the Imam there. Some Malays hardly speak Malay anymore and most Chinese can't speak or write proper Mandarin, anymore.

This generation likes its space, its individuality. Its freedom not to be bound by the norms of yesterday. Today's generation is more educated than yesterday's generation. Nothing is accepted willy-nilly anymore. The strength of the cultural and religious norms don't hem you in, anymore. You resist societal pressure to conform, whether openly or you rebel in discreet.

This generation knows it has a choice. Education gives them the right to believe that they can be anything they want. That they don't have to fall under any particular labels, roles or character - man, husband, leader, father, woman, wife, mother, married, chaste, loyal.

This generation chooses what it wants to be. As Dato' Seri Musa Hitam used to say: "You can't give people an education and expect them not to think".

I'm not sure "thinking" is the correct word, though.

But this generation is for sure - rejecting. Rejecting anything that stops them from being themselves, that stops them from being happy, that stops them from celebrating their individualities.

Rejecting limits, rejecting bullshit by politicians, rejecting nationalism - after all they are global citizens - they can be happy anywhere around the world, can't they? Rejecting the thought that economic growth is not continuous in Malaysia.

Rejecting religion and anything that reeks of being judgmental. Rejecting race and conformity stereotypes. Rejecting anything that limits choice and freedom.

And this generation EXPECTS to be happy. They don't think they are blessed if they get it - they consider it a birthright, a compulsory element, a must-have, the point of all things. For everyone. Anyone that's not happy - is just really a party-pooper, a drag.

And happiness is non-negotiable, for many today. Whatever the price, whatever norms they break, regardless of how many families they shatter. They've learned the all-important word and person - ME. The individual must be limitless, in his pursuit of happiness - let not God or Man stand in his way.

So much education, even of the wrong types. So much choice, to choose from. So many expectations to fulfill.

No chains. Free from restrictions. Free from dogma - except the right to be happy. That's the ultimate truth, not dogma. Or so they think.

**********************************************************************************

Reminds me of a passage from Kahlil Gibran:

"The woman of yesterday was a happy wife,
but the woman of today is a miserable mistress.

In the past, she walked blindly in the light,
but no she walks open-eyed in the dark.

She was beautiful in her ignorance,
virtuous in her simplicity,
and strong in her weakness.

Today, she has become ugly in her ingenuity,
superficial and heartless in her knowledge"

And in another part of the same story, Gibran wrote:

"This strange generation exists between sleeping and waking".


**********************************************************************************

What's my point?

It's the irony of it all. For a generation that has managed to break free of the chains of yesterday's generation - poverty, illiteracy, tyranny, colonization, sexual chauvinism, royal oppression, tradition, etc. - it seems to be trapped in a cell with invisible bars, of its own making.

This generation has no wish to escape this cell. It only knows what it doesn't want. It doesn't necessarily know where its going and whether that destination is a good place.

And whether those expectations are reasonable - how does one measure, if one has no conception of a life, with limits? And blurring lines of right and wrong?

What this generation is asking for, is the individual right and choice - to be lost. In their own world and expectations.

***********************************************************************************

Perhaps, this generation is more educated. But it lacks wisdom - for knowledge is meaningless, without knowing the value of moral restraint.

Goodbye, Home

The deed is done. Today, I negotiated the best price possible for the family pesaka home (considering the circumstances surrounding the sale).

It was about RM110K lower than what we first expected, although according to my real estate agent, it's only about RM60K lower than what the house is expected to fetch, even in one year. He thought that overall, considering the circumstances, I negotiated a good sale price.

I took very little comfort in that. I wish we could have taken more time - but circumstances surrounding Abang's financial condition, does not permit.

After the deal was struck - the significance of what was happening, dawned on me. I was selling the family home. The only home I ever knew.

This is the only family house I've known or been in, all my life. This was the house I grew up in. This was where all my baby photos were taken - what few of it, I have. This is the home where I first learnt to ride a bicycle. This is the house that my mother took so much pride in decorating - the place where she entertained her friends (and mine too over Raya open houses), with her amazing culinary skills.

This is the home where I played my first game of chess. This is the home that housed the weddings of 3 members, of my immediate family - including my wedding. This is the home I used to bring my girlfriends back to, to introduce to my mother. This is the home where many of my infamous Raya open house gatherings are held.

This is the home where I had my first romantic candlelight dinner at 16, (with Vivaldi's "Four Seasons" in the background) with Lina - with chicken chop prepared by my supportive Indonesian maid, Suri. Haha!

This is the house that my late father built and designed, which originated from a typical straight-laced British house. This is the home for me in Regent's Ville - the amazing place where I grew up and acquired lifelong friends.

This is the home that used to house, so many family gatherings. This is the home where my parents lived and died. This is the house where they poured their heart and soul into.

This house is so much, a part of my identity. There are so many fond and bittersweet memories, in this house.

There are more people that know or have seen this house, than they know the inhabitants. Expressions like "So YOU live in that white house!" is always a familiar line to me. (Especially by girls - I would have been virtually unnoticeable in my first 14 years, otherwise)

And now,....we're selling it. :( And I was the one responsible in striking the deal. Me, the person who loves this house the most. Ironic.

Kak has been asking me for ages to come back to the family house and take whatever stuff I wanted. I think I've been resisting, because inside, I know it will make me much too sad, to lose this home.

Losing this home, will be the next hardest thing for me, after losing my parents. And I hate emotionally breaking down,...like I am now,...

When you lose a family home, you're not just losing a house. You're losing a part of yourself, you're losing a part of your history, your heritage,...your family. At least, the children of my siblings got to see and spend time growing up in the family house. My children will never get that privilege, of seeing the house I grew up in.

When I'm here next year, a Chinese family will be inhabiting my home. And chances are, the home will not even retain its current form. It will not look like my home, anymore.

This house, to many, marked the existence of my parents and our family in Regent's Ville. With its sale, we are erasing that mark - it will be as if, we were never there,....I wonder whether in a few years, anyone will remember that we were ever here.

Thank you, God, for the blessed last 32 years, in this home. It has served us well and it will always be a part of who we are, in our living memories.

Goodbye, Home. You will be missed. :(

Forget Paris?

Some of you might have seen a film called "Forget Paris" by Billy crystal and Debra Winger - where a couple meets and falls in love in Paris, gets married and faces a rude awakening on married life.

Because it was nothing, like it was for them in Paris. Because they wonder what happened to the person they married.

Well, something triggered my memory about "Forget Paris" tonight.

************************************************************************************

He said to me while holding the cigarette: "I didn't realize I was cheating on my wife, until she told me. Then it dawned on me, that I was".

"Are you sleeping with her?" I asked. "No" - he firmly replied.

That was a relief.

"So, what did she mean?" I continued probing.

He took another puff of his cigarette.

"We were watching TV and she was laying her head on my lap. We were so comfortable, words were unnecessary. She was in a nightrobe and it took everything I had, not to take advantage of the situation. I realized how strongly I felt for her and how I can't seem to shake it off. And that I've always been in love with her."

And then she said it - "You know you're cheating on your wife, right?"

He replied, "But we've never gone all the way". At least, that was HIS definition of cheating.

To which she replied, "That's true. But you're often here with me and your wife doesn't know. And I know your heart, is here with me. That is already a form of betrayal, to a woman."

"But don't worry. All men do it. A lot of women, too. You're not the first and you won't be the last" she said nonchalantly.

He paused for a while. "And you know what, Ray? She was right. Though I never really looked at it that way, I have been cheating on my wife. With all my heart and soul."

"But I wonder, what ever happened to the woman I married? She's changed so much - she used to be so vibrant, interesting, alive. I just don't recognize her anymore."

**********************************************************************************

Had this last comment come from the town Romeo, I would not have blinked.

But this was a man, who in a lot of ways, was a model employee, husband and father. He's always been the good kid. The standard-bearer. The guy the naughty kids, would respect and envy. The guy that mothers would readily throw their daughters too.

And he's been married for 6 years. But lately, unhappily, for most part. Because she has changed and he has remained the same, according to him.

But it reminded me of "Forget Paris". How things changed after the marriage. How the couple grew apart, as opposed to growing together. And how their expectations differed, on what marriage would be like. And then, came the communication breakdown and the lethargy in making an effort.

I wondered how many marriages out there, were like this. Is it fair to expect that things remain the same, after marriage and a few children? Can you stop the role of mother and father from engulfing your life, to the point that you forget to be husband and wife or lovers? And most importantly, each other's best friends?

The Smoker will stay in his marriage, because he feels that this is what is meant by a commitment. After the love has faded and the expectations do not meet anymore, you're obliged to be there - because your marriage vows said so. And no way, would he break his children's hearts, by splitting up with his wife.

This is not always the case with people, though.

It reminded me of this demure tudung-clad 46-year old lady, I know that was ready to throw away a 20-year marriage and contemplated a divorce, (and 4 kids later) because she felt that her husband "has stopped growing emotionally". The last 5 years of her marriage had been a living lie - they kept up appearances, for her parents' sake.

When I asked her why, she said: "Because he's become a slob - he doesn't want to do things together with me, anymore. He's stopped making the effort, a long time ago. I still want to experience new things, I miss the conversations we used to have and I still want to grow as a person. I want us to grow together. And I'm tired of begging him, to do this together with me."

She continued: "And I'd be happier alone, than to be married to a person, who can't be bothered to try anymore."

But sometimes, Fate has a few surprises in store for you. Her husband snapped out of his marital slumber and started making the effort, when he realized that he was risking the demise of 20-year marriage. He started courting her again, to win back her affections.

Today, they're the picture of marital health.

They're holding hands in public again (something which I haven't seen them do, in 15 years), they take off for a romantic rendezvous whenever they can and they're exploring a lot of new things in life together. And the long meaningful conversations, the thing which brought them together, began again - just like in the early days of their courting and marriage.

But it took the risk of losing the marriage, to get them there.

No, it cannot always be Paris, I guess. The realities of marriage can be hard, for those who are not self-aware and even less aware of their partner's needs, due to a lack of communication or inertia arising, despite the communication.

And you can't be expected to always be the same person, after you're married. Responsibilities and familial roles, do take its toll on people, sometimes. People can forget to be themselves, in the ensuing efforts to raise children, to take care of the home and to make a living.

But the good marriages have life partners in them, that are willing to grow together. Or at least, to make the effort from growing apart. And the best ones - still have love in them and the constant effort to keep it alive.

***********************************************************************************

I'm hoping for the best for The Smoker and his wife.

He's decided to stop his affair and betrayal of the heart - although he's quite convinced that he's been in love with the "other woman", for the last 11 years.

But his commitment to his marriage, is still strong - and I hope that he'll find his way back and that his days ahead, will be better. I respect his commitment but I hope for his sake, that he will find love and reciprocal effort too, in the marriage.

Having one without the other, seems more like a duty or a sentence, rather than a lifetime bond.

Rules of Engagement

I've met more than my fair share of people that do not understand the fundamental rules of engagement, in a friendship.

The first rule to observe, is that you need to communicate with your friends. If you don't communicate, people may misinterpret your actions/inactions. How much you communicate is up to you - but you need to communicate, to keep the harmony of the friendship. Don't just go silent, without them knowing why.

Especially, if something offends you or where you may have offended others. Most people are not mindreaders.


The second rule is - don't blow hot and cold. Be consistent in your treatment of people. Don't be Dr. Jekyll today and Mr. Hyde tomorrow, on a flick of an emotional switch. Inconsistent treatment purely on a whim, makes you look erratic and inconsiderate. Your friends are not your emotional punching bags.


The third rule is - don't let your friends down when they're counting on you, especially on things which are important to them. Keep your promises as far as you can and don't sideline them, just because you're self-centered. Your word is your bond, in the moments that count.

And don't measure how you treat your friends, by how badly the world treats you. That's not the correct measure. One religion in particular, reminds you that your faith is incomplete until you learn to love your friends, like you love yourself.


The fourth rule is - always know when to say sorry. An arrogant streak and never admitting that you're wrong brings you nowhere, for as Saidina Ali once said: "The loneliest of solitude is conceit".


The fifth rule is - friendship is a reciprocal commitment. And if you expect others to be there in your times of need, you should be there in their times of need. They don't get paid to be there for you - they're doing it out of their love and care for you. Like in most things, you only get what you give.


In future, I want to meet fewer people who do not understand these basic rules of friendship. I want to meet fewer schizophrenics, fewer self-centered people and fewer people who just don't know how to care and reciprocate, in a friendship.

I'm getting too old to tolerate this sort of nonsense. And my compassion and streak for giving the benefit of the doubt to others, are wearing thin.

Whatever your problems and grief are, the rest of the world is still moving. And you have no right to be rude and impolite to others, who are not responsible for that grief. You still have the responsibility to do right, by others.

If you don't understand these basic rules yet - learn. Belajarlah berkawan - life is not all about lost lovers and material gain.

Ramadhan, give me patience!

Taming of the Shrew

It was the longest coffee date I've ever had to wait for - about close to 1.5 years. But the cliche about persistence paying off, seems to be true.

But yes, I finally had "coffee" with Ms. Kangkung (as she prefers to be called, I think - as long as you don't think she's pretty, it's fine) which did not consist of any coffee being consumed. But the timing was right.

It was dinner to me and snacks to her. But yes, I had a hunch that we would get along. After all, we are similar in many ways - especially with regards to family.

Ms. Kangkung, I'm glad that we went to coffee/ "non-coffee" dinner. Even though I had to wait close to 1.5 years for it. Dinner conversation was great and you were exquisite company. I think at the very least, I've gained a really great dinner companion. Let's do this again sometime soon.

And I promise I won't treat you like a bimbo, like many guys do. You're useless as a bimbo, anyway - you're too articulate to be one. ;)

Now,...apa nak makan untuk sahur, ah? Hmmm,.....

On The Brink

Found out some disturbing news, tonight. My brother may be declared a bankrupt soon - and a financial avalanche may follow soon. And the knock-on effects could hurt others in the family, too.

Not that it was surprising. He was always the sort to have one dollar, borrow four dollars and spend six dollars. In his business or in his life, he was always the sort to care, whether his peers thought he was doing well. And he lived that lifestyle in excess, even when it geared on a stack of debts.

Well, it has caught up with him and the avalanche is inevitable. To the amount of a few million Ringgit. And his liabilities exceed his assets 2:1.

Tonight, we had to make a decision to sell the pesaka house at the current price which were offered by some buyers, even though it's a good RM100K lower than even the "lower than fair price" which we quoted.

It's too late to save him. He's going to have to face the music. But we could try to save some of the others, who would be affected.

I'm sad for him. I'm also angry at him - for the years when he never listened. I'm embarrassed for the money trouble he's in, with some of our relatives. But in some ways I'm glad that Mum did not live to witness this.

But he's still family. Blood is still thicker than water and we've proven that again tonight, by sacrificing all our portions - to pay for his recklessness.

I pray that you will be well, Abang. This lesson is harsh, but it will mean nothing if you refuse to look in the mirror.

But the lessons are there, for current and future generations of this family. Ukur baju di badan sendiri.

Never forget that.

More Quotes

Did not sleep well last night. Woke up very early this morning and started reading a book of quotes that I bought on the cheap, at MPH yesterday. It helped calm me down.

Just to share some with you, for this Sunday morning:

"Unhappiness is best described as the difference between our talents and our expectations" - Edward De Bono

"It is an old ironic habit of human beings to run faster, when we have lost our way" - Rollo May

"What you have become is the price you paid, to get what you used to want" - Mignon McLaughlin

"There is nothing more tragic than to find an individual bogged down in the length of life, devoid of breath" - Martin Luther King Jr.

"The art of being wise is knowing what to overlook" - William James

"The tragedy of life is what dies inside a man, while he lives" - Albert Einstein

"Men who are unhappy, like men who sleep badly, are always proud of the fact" - Bertrand Russell

"For him that has no concentration, there is no tranquility" - Bhagavad Gita

"Every Man is entitled to be valued by his best moments" - Ralph Waldo Emerson

"There is only one success - to be able to spend life in your own way" - Christopher Morley

"I imagine that one of the reasons people cling on to their hates so stubbornly, is because, they sense, once the hate is gone - they will be forced to deal with the pain" - James Baldwin

"The greatest happiness you can have, is knowing that you do not necessarily require happiness" - William Saroyan

"There is nothing noble about being superior to some other man. The true nobility is in being superior to your previous self" - Samuel Johnson

"You see things; and say "Why?". But I dream of things that never were and I say, "Why not?" " - George Bernard Shaw

"One of the reasons people stop learning is that they become less and less willing to risk failure" - John Gardner

"The secret of genius is to carry the spirit of childhood into maturity" - Thomas Huxley

"We learn as much from sorrow as from joy, as much from illness as from health, from handicap as from advantage - and indeed, perhaps more" - Pearl S. Buck

"The trouble with most people is that they think with their hopes and fears or wishes, rather than with their minds" - Will Durant

"Better to write for yourself and have no public than to write for the public and have no self" - Cyril Connolly

"It's not the men in my life that counts - it's the life in my men" - Mae West

"The day is of infinite length for him who knows how to appreciate and use it" - Goethe

"Our dignity is not in what we do, but what we understand" - George Santayana


And one last one:

"Get in, get into that place where it's your nature, whether it's running a corporation or picking daisies in the field, get in there and live to it, live to the fullness of it, become what you are and I'll say to you, you've done more than most men.

Most men,...most of them don't ever do that.

They'll work at a job and not know why. They'll marry a woman and not know why. They'll go to their graves and not know why" - E.L. Doctorow


Have a good weekend, folks!

Great Night, Mixed Feelings - Part 2

After Denz's and Siew Huey's wedding at Mandarin Oriental - which must be one the best wedding of this year - I dragged my friends from Singapore - Benjy, Karen, Cole, Cole's (disaster) date, Ms. User Friendly - along with some other friends, to a club in Heritage Row.

It's been a particularly good evening - the church wedding was uplifting, the wedding dinner was fun and acted as a reunion for most of us and on Karen's request for "a place to dance to retro music we can understand" - I brought them to Mojo.

And despite the fact that I didn't bump into the usual crowd there, I still had a good time. Shot a few rounds of pool, enjoyed the music a little but mostly, relishing the time that I had with my buddies from Singapore.

But somehow, the itch to find the familiar faces got to me and I stepped into the club next door, to see if anyone was there. Halfway into the club, I noticed a familiar face - it looked like a close friend of N's. 2 seconds later, I saw another close friend of N's.

A thought struck me - damn it - she must be somewhere here, too. Less than a month ago, I bumped into First Man and now there's a possibility that I'll be bumping into her too. Dammit!

I did a 180 degrees turn and walked out of there, in a flash. I was having a good night and I didn't want to bump into her. Went back to Mojo, relieved that I was spared a second awkward encounter.

And the night progressed well again. I didn't think about it.

It wasn't until we decided to call it a night and walked out of the club, did I notice of one of N's close friends - outside by the kerb. And I could have sworn she was glancing at me - perhaps, she recognized me. Not that we were ever formally introduced - N always kept me hidden from the rest of her world.

As we were looking at each other for a few seconds, my eyes glanced over at the figure beside her - with her back to me.

It was N. I would know that hair, skin colour, shoulders and figure anywhere.

I immediately looked away, pretending not to notice. Or maybe just not wanting to see her face. I've detoxed from her and have been "clean" for close to 2 months now -I didn't want to regress.

Said my goodbyes to the Singaporean gang (as they'll be returning to Singapore tomorrow) and I started walking very fast towards the car park, trailed by my friend, Xena, who was doing the driving.

I must have passed in front of N, but I kept my eyes glued to the ground - I didn't want her to see me and neither did I want to see her. My legs couldn't walk fast enough for me to get out of there, I felt. I was relieved to get into the car - at least my night, was not spoiled. I refused to let it spoil my night.

But it occured to me that this was going to be harder than my splits with Lina and Ms. Fickle. At least I don't stand the chance to bump into them, because we have different social circles and hangouts. With Lina, it was at least 2 years, before I bumped into her once, after the split and never again after that, for the next 6 years. I had plenty of time to strengthen and not regress.

But with N, this was unlikely to happen. We revolve around similar activities, overlapping social circles and the same hangouts. Realistically, I can't avoid her forever. Although I can reduce the chances drastically, if I quit clubbing. But there are still no guarantees.

I don't know what I'm going to do. My reaction shows that I'm not ready to bump into her yet, under any condition. I don't want to see her, I don't want to hear from her (even via SMS) and I don't want to know, what she's doing. I want to be able to harden first and not to remember all the things that made me fall for her, in the first place. I need that time.

So what do I do? Pray for luck of avoidance and keep my eyes glued to the ground, I guess. And hope that time passes really quickly and before I realize it, I've been detoxed and "clean" for at least, 1 year. And hopefully by then, my feelings will not be as strong anymore, or will dissipate forever.

That's all I can do, for the while. God, give me strength!