Tuesday, December 22, 2015

unfriending




Slow and
         painfully lingering
                       death of a friendship
                                 when neither knows how to pull the plug
                                           Or both still hopeful that there's something left worth fighting for.



12/22/2015

Monday, December 21, 2015

Malaysia has dirty public toilets. That's a fact.

Malaysia has dirty public toilets. That's a fact. 



Any number of clean one that you may have come across and would like to point out to rebut this fact are not big enough to make a percentage.

Why is this so? Aren't we a nation of civilized people, heading toward a developed country status in a few years? With a majority of Muslims who consider cleanliness a vital part of their faith? Weren't we all brought up with stress on cleanliness and it's importance to our well-being?

We complain that our toilets are dirty, more fitting to that of a third world slum (there are many third would countries with very clean and spotless toilets!) and condemn those who don't keep them clean.

So if everyone are keeping the toilets clean, who are actually making them filthy? Are there toilet trolls that go about splashing water everywhere, leaving excrement residue even up on the wall and stamping footprints on the toilet bowls? Do we have tiny bathroom demons pulling out taps and damaging the appliances, dumping sanitary pads and leaving unwrapped soiled diapers by the doors, pouring food down the sink (or was that vomit?) and leave the toilet unflushed?

Someone mentioned that teachers must teach students to use and clean toilet properly on a post over at Pisang Raja's, the one with a photo of a very clean toilet in a 'pasar malam' in Bangkok that inspired this rant. I think it's a brilliant idea. I think every school should implement this, like they do in Japan. This is one move MOE must implement immediately. Start each day of school with cleaning. Cleaning the class, the toilet and the school surrounding. And while we are at it, maybe get the teachers to join too, I was a teacher before, some of the staff toilets aren't exactly spick and span either. Keeping thing clean are our collective duty, not just for the janitor or cleaner. We clean up after ourselves, they'll make sure the place is in order.

For clean toilets (and keeping other public amenities clean and undamaged ) to become a culture, the value must be instilled at a young age, and this must be done by mandatory practice. Beginning in pre school and continued through out schooling period if needed. By the look of the state of things now, I'd assume quite a number of us do not instill 'keep public amenities as clean and well kept as our own home', just check out those who drive big expensive cars that stop on roadside to unload their cars off garbage, and those who throw rubbish out of moving vehicles?

As long our personal and private space is clean, we don't care about our citizen or neighborly duty. There's always someone to blame if things aren't the way it should be. The janitors not doing their job, the government not making things better by fixing top of the line amenities, broken thing not repaired quickly enough, and easiest of it all, the others who don't keep them toilets clean! But never us! We always keep all the public toilets we use as clean as the one in our homes, don't we?

How do we make parents receptive to this idea? If only they will not attack the school, MOE and the government for making their precious children learn about cleanliness properly which is through practice. How many parents will allow their children clean toilets and not say "no child of mine should be cleaning toilet, it's demeaning and definitely not their duty to do so, it's a job for the maid/migrant workers/someone else". These children will in turn grow up not knowing how to clean up after themselves let alone keep public amenities clean, their mantra 'cleaning up and keeping things clean is not my duty, it's someone else's', and the vicious circle continues.

Oh by the way, decorating toilets does not make it clean. So spare the dust collecting artificial flowers, frilly curtains and festive color paints, we need clean toilets, not 'pelamins', even though both are referred to as 'thrones'. 

So, if we start this effort today, making it mandatory for children to learn how to clean up after themselves, making sure they know how to keep toilet clean and more importantly how to 'aim properly, and if you miss you clean up until it's spotless', perhaps in a generation time we will begin to have cleaner public toilet. Something that we won't feel icky using and no longer be ashamed of anymore

Will we adults let our children learn how to clean toilet? Will we clean up after ourselves too, even when there's no one looking? Will we take pride in keeping our toilets clean? Perhaps if our children learn this in school, they'll some how put some shame into us into practising it as a part of our daily lives too.

So where do we begin?

IT BEGINS WITH US. NOW!

Saturday, November 14, 2015

The night market cure-all

Does your mom suffers from leg pain, back pain and other similar maladies, does she usually walks slow with a limp and getting up from any seating will always be backgrounded with a groan of pain?

Tonight we found a quick and easy relief. When we reached the Pasar Malam, she was about a couple of person next to me. Then I turned to the right, I swear it was no longer than a couple of seconds. I turned to the left, front and back. Nope she's no where within eyesight in the crowded lane. So I hasten my pace to search for her, still looking around me thinking that my eyesight failing me. 

Nope still no Mama around. As I was about to turn back, I caught a glimpse of her purple shawl about 50 metres away, and she's fast moving away toward her 'solok lada' at the end of lane!

I declare that 'pasar malam' cures all pain that our moms have. No need for orthopedic specialist, painful jabs, acupuncture or chiropractor visits, just good old crowded eye feasting 'pasar malam'. Which was not cheap by the way, she spent more than what she would have at a chiropractor or 10 acupuncture treatments.

And oh, her cough got miraculously cured too the whole time we where there, that is until she got home and the 'I-am-losing-my-breath' cough came back!

So do take your mom to the 'pasar malam', mall or them outlet stores at Mitsui when she complains of persistent pain that no medicine seems to work, hopefully it'll cure your mom like it did with mine, even if it's just a temporary relief. Her smile and laughter made us happy too.

p/s: Shereen, please tag the involved party

Thursday, November 12, 2015

Vaping lifestyle is a drug lifestyle.

Vape can be easily used with synthetic drugs in public with no way of detecting the drug use, there's no smell, nothing so see, positive identification only via lab test. For children as young as 9 now it's far easier to get drug and use it publicly  than to get a pack of cigarettes.

The danger outweighs a million fold to the benefit of helping people kick the nicotine addiction. By the way, how many people do we know have managed to kick the nicotine addiction by using vape/e-cigarettes?

Stop supporting something that is going to kill our future. Our children are our future. Shame on those who vehemently supports the so called industry because they are making millions from selling the juice.

Vaping lifestyle is a drug lifestyle. The line is too grey to differentiate between the two. No one in their right mind should publicly support and encourage this, let alone try to implement regulations as to support the industry. If you vape, I see you just as another smoker, no judgement. However, if you try to support it, justifying the goodness of it, or worse if you are in the business of promoting vaping, to me you are are a public enemy, just like the next heroin pusher, crack dealer, pill kuda brother.

CALL FOR TOTAL BAN ON VAPE / E-CIGARETTES AND ALL SIMILAR PARAPHERNALIA.

My future generation deserves to live. So do yours.

Monday, November 09, 2015

Instant messaging, instant outburst




Instant messaging are bad when you are compulsive and get emotional at the drop of a hat. Email and letter allow you to rethink that angry retort, that 'I'm hitting below the belt because I am angry', that 'I'm saying the first thought that crosses my mind'. You'll use the backspace button a lot, think out the sentences before penning it down. Less people get hurt, less regret.

Saying that, I must start writing letters and emails again.  It pains me to see the number of casualties I find in my path caused by this instant messaging, thoughts and outburst.

~just a thought as I wait for my torture session~

Sunday, November 08, 2015

the dot

a thousand and some days later, dim stars of the past get swallowed by black holes. don't you miss them? won't you look for them? a dot is just a mere speck. a meaningless speck. not secret code, no leads to any whimsical hidden clue.

you are the sun of your universe now, stars don't matter no more. still, the star is proud of you. unconditionally.


Friday, November 06, 2015

blown raspberries

silence echoing
deafening stillness
hollow space
restrainted thoughts
bottled up sorrow
frozen river of tears

the raspberries are all gone now
not a hidden lone last one left
I must have blown too hard
I must have ruined it all.

-november '15-

Thursday, October 01, 2015

Spice Padawan


Athene Spices youngest padawan insisted on helping us move back the stock and fixtures to the workshop last Monday right after he got home from kindergarten and caught us leaving. 

He ran and hugged Zz, hanging on to his legs, not letting go. H & Q both made it very clear that they miss Zz very much over the past five days, every few hours they'll ask when he's coming back.

Q was very fascinated by the empty SPICE Arena, asking why everyone's leaving, where they are taking all the stuffs, his usual million and one questions.

This kid who refuses to eat a bite at kindergarten, was famished by now, so when we got to the workshop, he walked straight next door as he knows there's a bakery with yummy hot buns there, and got himself a pizza bun (pre-lunch snack he said) which the nice lady refuses to take any payment for.

Later while tucking in on the bun and isotonic drink, we had a little chat as we were doing stock check and putting them away.

Q : I like this new workshop.

A : This is the same workshop as before, the one you helped paint and  came to help last week and the week before.


Q : It's nicer now, it's cooler, and you have a fridge and cold drinks! Ice lemon tea and 'uncle's Coke'. And cold water. I like eating here, this high chair makes it easy for me to eat. Can I have some 'pulut udang'? I love 'pulut udang'.


A : Finish your bun. It's too early for 'pulut udang', the man selling it haven't setup stall. We are having lunch later with H.


Q : Aten, you know what will make this workshop nicer? This weekend, we go to Queensbay and get a TV. That will make this workshop much much nicer. I can watch movies here too.


A : Shall I get you pillows and blanket so.you can sleep here too? *teasing*


Q : Okay *very serious* Can we go for a movie afterward? I haven't been to the movies for ages. Can we go eat in Queensbay? Can we go to the bookstore? I like the books at the bookstore. 


A : *faint*


Wednesday, September 23, 2015

Things taken for granted.

Almost twenty years of Aidiladha in the east coast made me forget how its always been at home. Apart from the Aidiladha morning prayer, it's another break day, some years my parents would take off for a holiday, the rest spent like another weekend. 'Korban' are usually something you pay someone at the mosque to carry out for you or send money abroad to have it performed among the less fortunate Muslims communities. You don't see your sacrificial animal, let alone the whole ritual, all you know is that you've performed the deed.

Now, in the Pasir Mas it's a whole different thing, after breakfast of kuzi and 'roti jala', there's the 'korban' ritual where you are actually there from cow to dish. And the whole bingeing on 'tapai' while you wait for the men to cut and prepare the meat.

Later at home will be the portioning and of course my 'favorite', tripe and intestines cleaning (have you ever tried cleaning the type of tripe that has hundreds of layer? No wonder they call them 'perut kitab', it's like studying for your final!) before the distribution crew go on their route. Satay making will begin after maghrib, and it's always satay for second day of Aidiladha.

There's constantly something to do, entertaining guests and returning their visits, the many many weddings to attend and the constant feasting. Even though I've been a demi-vegetarian again for more than four years, there's always something for me to eat and enjoy, so all the meat and more meat don't bother me at all, in fact I enjoy cooking it for others.

It's the first Aidiladha since Ayah left us, and this year I have to stay back in Penang due to work commitments. We were all set to leave on Wednesday as we always do and the Friday before we found out about the trade show. So I decided to stay, as it's his duty to be there, now more so than ever.

So yes, Aidiladha is a big thing in the east coast, steeped in rituals and tradion, and I've always seen it as that it's as big as Aidilfitri there. It took me to be away from it all to see how meaningful it's been for me all these years.

Selamat Hari Raya Aidiladha everyone.

Thursday, September 17, 2015

Hari Ini Aku Sebahagian dari Sejarah : Himpunan Maruah Melayu 16 September 2015

Aku mengaku ada tikanya semasa berarak ke Perhimpunan Maruah Melayu semalam aku dilanda sebak yang teramat, adakala sehingga bercucuran airmata mencampuri keringat dek bahang matahari. Setiap langkah diambil mengingatkan aku akan perjuangan datuk nenek kita untuk mendapatkan kemerdekaan, betapa mereka dalam serba kekurangan di zaman itu sanggup melakukan apa saja untuk kesejahteraan anak cucu mereka. Kini, kita telah lebih setengah abad menikmati hasil  perjuangan tersebut, dan ada masanya kita juga alpa dari asas perjuangan mereka. Kita terlalu selesa dengan kesenangan dan keamanan yang kita miliki selama ini, kita angkuh yang semua ini adalah hak kita sejak azali. Kita lupa bakti usaha, darah dan keringat mereka dalam perjuangan yang kini hanya dikenang dalam lipatan sejarah, kita terlalu asyik dengan kesenangan. Kini semua ini bagai telur dihujung tanduk, kita dicabar, dikeji, dihina, pemikiran kita cuba diubah supaya sebahagian kita malu untuk mengaku kita adalah orang Melayu. 

Inilah masa kita. Kita juga perlu bangun untuk mempertahankan segalanya, kita mesti memastikan hasil perjuangan datuk nenek kita akan terus dapat dinikmati anak cucu Melayu yang kekal beragama Islam selagi ada Melayu di di muka bumi ini.
Perarakan dari PWTC didahulukankan dengan bacaan doa setelah selesai solat Zohor dan solat hajat. Sambil bergandingan tangan dan bahu, bendera dijulang dan sepanduk dijunjung, kami bergerak menghala ke Padang Merbok di bawah sinaran matahari terik, namun bahangnya hampir tidak terasa kerana semangat yang membara di dalam jiwa mengatasi segalanya. Cuaca agak cerah disulami redup bila awan berarak, keadaan berjerebu yang agak teruk melanda negara sejak seminggu lepas tiba tiba hilang sejak awal pagi, membuatkan perjalanan lancar penuh patriotisme. Laungan "Allahu Akbar" dan "Hidup Melayu" membuatkan semangat penyatuan serta nawaitu untuk membela maruah dan martabat agama, bangsa dan tanah air sebegitu membara, ratusan ribu turun tanpa mengira darjat atau umur, tidak juga berharapkan sebarang imbuhan, semuanya di situ demi masa depan generasi akan datang.
kerdilnya aku di antara ratusan ribu pejuang lain.
Aku bangga aku antara mereka yang memerahkan secara aman bandar Kuala Lumpur dalam perhimpunan penyatuan Melayu terbesar semenjak tahun 1946 dan aku berarak sambil menjulang panji panjiku, Jalur Gemilang.

Demi Islam. Demi Melayu. Demi Malaysia.

Tanah tumpah darahku. Sentiasa dalam jiwaku. Kedaulatannya kuperjuangankan ke titisan darah terakhir.

Friday, September 11, 2015

Why instant messaging is bad

9/11/2015

Instant messaging are bad when you are compulsive and get emotional at the drop of a hat. Email and letter allow you to rethink that angry retort, that 'I'm hitting below the belt because I am angry', that 'I'm saying the first thought that crosses my mind'. You'll use the backspace button a lot, think out the sentences before penning it down. Less people get hurt, less regret.

Saying that, I must start writing letters and emails again.  It pains me to see the number of casualties I find in my path caused by this instant messaging, thoughts and outburst.

~just a thought as I wait for my torture session~

Saturday, August 01, 2015

Toys to Politic.

What lies between toys and politic?
What comes when you are done playing,
Yet not ready for that thing called life?

What takes you away
From no cares in this world,
Before throwing you into matters
As sensible as policies and state affairs

Love, love as you let go of your youth
Love, embrace it before other things matters more to you.

Love, always.

Love. Forever.

Wednesday, July 29, 2015

point to ponder #57

Yes, because sometimes, after a bit of deliberation, a tad more thinking, a few moments of reanalyzing, we realize that we are not quite right after all. So always respect differing in opinions, because we are not right all the times, no matter how smart we think we are. It would save us a lot of embarrassments, and dealing with pride and dignity massaging later.

of being wrong sometimes...

Yes, because sometimes, after a bit of deliberation, a tad more thinking, a few moments of reanalyzing, we realize that we are not quite right after all. So always respect differing in opinions, because we are not right all the times, no matter how smart we think we are. It would save us a lot of embarrassments, and dealing with pride and dignity massaging later.

Tuesday, July 14, 2015

O pain be gone


The pain got quite bad by 6pm, and I just wanted to go home for the breaking of fast, but there were massive jam everywhere in Penang.  Grabbed a quick bite on the road and got home by 8:15. And it just got worse, the pain has creep up to my elbows and upper arms, almost to my shoulders. It wasn't just on the joints, but in the muscles too.

As some of you know, I am allergic to almost all painkiller or muscle relaxants, so I can't take any except the usual paracetamol. By 11pm, I had to take a couple of Panadol Extend, which didn't do a thing, so I applied some analgesic gel.

Midnight, I was in such pain that I started to whimper. Found some old Flexall, I liberally rub on the entire length of my arms, shoulder to fingertip. I didn't care anymore, allergy or not I need some painkiller. Mom has a choice between Celebrex or Norgesic, told just to give me the strongest one. She gave me Celebrex plus a couple of anti inflammation pills just in case I get any bad reaction. She told me to go get a jab if it gets worse (pain or allergy) in one hour. She also gave me some Ketotop plasters to apply after the Flexall is fully absorbed and my skin is no longer tacky.

Probbed both arms and tried to sleep, I was hoping that my senses would be numb and I could sleep it off, but that's not going to happen. By now I couldn't even lift either of my arms anymore, Zz helped apply the Ketotop analgesic plasters at 1:15am and with one hot water bag under my elbow, I finally dozed off an hour or so later.

And that's how I woke up looking like someone with a bad botox job. The pain is at 50% now. Now I must see the accupunturist before the holidays.

Wednesday, July 08, 2015

Gone too soon

Tuah. 2015
She turned up one day and decided to stay. Winning over the queen of the house who is not really a big fan of pets. She won Mama by killing a snake and leaving it by her bowl. Mama started calling her Tuah, short for 'Bertuah' because she said Tuah saved her from the snake, and the name stuck even after we discovered that Tuah is in fact a girl.

A frisky gal that she was, along came a handsome tomcat trying to win her over and he too stayed, secretly sharing her food in the beginning, and hanging out with her, sharing the foot rug under the porch after a few days. Officially they seem enemies, hissing and snarling during each encounter with audience of us. And each time as I walk away, I catch them stealing kisses, I guess they think they must not let it on to us that they are quite a couple, the starcrossed lovers kind.

This morning I walked upon them in what appeared to be a lovers tiff and on top of the usual hiss and scratching, Tuah was  being quite flirty too, twirling and flipping her body. We finally put on the pink flea collar we got last night and she looks like she's showing it off to Thomas O'Malley. I even managed to record 6:30 minutes worth of her antics.

I started cooking at about 5:30pm, as we are making Mandy Chicken, there's no rush, so I took my time, even going upstairs to finish up some work while leaving the chicken in the marinate. I couldn't have been gone for more than half and hours. When I got down, Yuli the weekly helper keep saying excitedly, something about forgetting the gas. I said, no, I didn't leave the stove on. She said no, not gas, the gate. I asked what about the gate, she said my mom went next door to see Auntie Pat to alter her baju raya and left the gate slightly open and some dogs got in and bit the cat, which I assumed would have been Thomas picking a fight with the dogs. I asked if it's the black cat, she said no, it's the brown orange one.

I rushed out immediately, shouting, shooing the dogs. I saw a couple tried to rush out and turned back. So I opened the gate wide and started shouting to chase them out with a broom. I hear meowing and saw Thomas looking very scared on the fence, I assumed that Tuah must be hiding in the drain. I see the two dogs from just now and another two running out. There were four of them! At least two with collars if I am not mistaken, which means they aren't strays and are in fact left by their owners to run around and encroach on private properties.

Mama was leaving Auntie Pat's and she heard the commotion, so I told her what happened. Hussen rushed home too. I continued to look and call for Tuah. I still thought that she's hiding some place, scared out of her wits, as even Thomas was looking very scared.

I continued calling for him as I walked toward the back of the side garden, Hussen right behind me. And from about 10 metres away my eyes suddenly looked down toward the area where Hussen's birthpod was buried, and I saw her laying on the grass. My mind tells me she's slightly injured, but my heart knew something's very wrong as she doesn't appear to be moving as I called out her name. I saw something reddish pink near her head, and I know she's gone.

I immediately turned back and told Hussen to go inside as I hugged him. I looked into Mama's eyes and shooked my head, she too appeared surprised, no one thought that it'd come to this. She knows that I don't have the heart to go look. So she went to see. Yuli told me that she saw the dogs attacking Tuah, biting her and carrying her in their mouth, and she couldn't help as the dogs looks awfully dangerous.

So yes, Tuah is dead. Killed during the brutal attack of the dogs that have been left roaming our street, some with owners, the others strays that keep breeding and filling the street with puppies that will turn fierce mongrels in a few months time. And no, the reddish pink were not blood, it's her new collar. Mama said apart from some bite marks on her tummy, she appeared okay, just a bit wet.

Tuah was buried  wrapped in a white cloth in the garden like Mama did for Armani slightly over a decade ago. Since Armani, I didn't really want to have another pet, the pain of losing him was too much, as he was more of a son to me than a cat. And when Tuah came along I was still quite reluctant, but he sort of adopted us, and we couldn't resist such a good natured and 'manja' cat.

Good bye Tuah, thank you for reminding us what it's like to have a pet again. Barely 3 weeks you were with us, but you have filled our lives with much memories, especially  for Hussen and Qays. Hussen, the sensitive one seems to be taking it  quite badly, crying and really angry with the dogs. He learned the pain of losing a pet today, but still he managed helping with the burial. Qays is away, and I don't know how he will react when he gets the news, but I believe he will take it better than Hussen.

And Tuah, do tell Armani we still miss him to this day.


Monday, June 22, 2015

Sunday Mischief : 4th Ramadan 1436

They were supposed to be coloring, and I could swear there's no magic marker in the box, but they somehow found a stray purple Crayola.

The Flash turns skeleton. He's supposed to Doraemon, complete with battery pack on the back.

Protest face, he won't let me snap his photo. Which I later found out was because he's scared that he will get into trouble with Zz (they have some deal going on apparently). Supposed to be Nobita.
The artist is H and he worked on both Q and himself. When they realized that it won't come off, they got awfully nervous, worried that we will all go ballistic. But seriously, can you not laugh at this, let alone be angry. 

I told them they can go to the Pasar Ramadan (something they've been looking forward to) looking like that, Q quickly said he changed his mind, he doesn't want to to go to Pasar Ramadan anymore. And then I reminded them that school's tomorrow. There were some attempts to 'save face' with the various superhero masks but I told H he won't be able to wear mask to school. A quick scrub by Zz (he also can't stop laughing) managed to clean up quite bit but the traces are still quite visible. To teach them a a good lesson, I won't apply lotion to remove the remaining magic marker ink until bedtime.
Just before the first shower.

And yes, they went to Pasar Ramadan and they did provide quite a good amusing entertainment to the bazaar goers.

We still break out into giggles every time we see their faces!

Later : While applying lotion to remove the ink, I asked H where did he get the idea to do such thing, he said from watching Doraemon. So I asked him to try search if Doraemon also have some answers on how to have the ink removed. He pouted and gave me a mental doorslam!

Saturday, May 16, 2015

Blog vs. Facebook Part Deux

They say Facebook 'killed' blogging.

I just found out that blog-hopping can be the antidote to your Facebook addiction.

Blog vs. Facebook

They say Facebook is awfully addictive, minutes of just 'checking' can run into hours.

I say try blog-hopping, you won't know the difference between sunrise and sunset anymore.

Wednesday, May 06, 2015

Before. After. Now

.
Sunrise
Sunset
Midnight

Youth
Living
Life

Before
Then
Now

You
Me

Us
.

The day before D day.

So I may not get my birthday wish. I can’t say it was anything more than wishful thinking, but I know we really worked hard for it. And there's nothing wrong in dreaming is there? 

The couple of days leading to my birthday had been truly an eye opening experience. I learnt so much and that includes human’s true colors. How some can crack under the simplest pressure and those weak looking one may turn out to be a real trooper. I came to realize how those you see as your close trusted friends, the one you'd take a bullet for could just sell you out in a heartbeat when they think their self interest is the of utmost importance. 

I met a few old friends, made more new ones, and found a kindred spirit or two. What I really noticed was that how down to earth some really high ranking people are and how snobbish those who think they are important can be. There was this one imaginary 'important person' who back-stabbed someone who has nothing to lose by treachery, thinking that she will earn brownie points for carrying tales, little did she realize that she is no where in the same league as the other person, and there’s nothing she will gain out of this but a reputation that’s not exactly nice.

I've also learnt that our body can take more abuse than we always thought, 3 hours of sleep everyday for a forthnight has been proven to be not fatal *wink* and that guzzling 8-12 glasses of 'teh tarik' can help you add on 5kg in the same period.

Here's to dreaming.

Kutiup cinta

.
Pergi.
Pergilah bersama angin
Terbanglah beriring bayu
Cari hati sepi
Intai jiwa lara
Yang rindukan kasih 
Gelisah dalam kesunyian

Kembali.
Kembalilah kasih
Pulangkan cinta
Hadirlah bahagia
Temani dia
Dalam dakapan mimpi
Kala perjalanan 
Melayari kehidupan 
Nyata tanpa persinggahan
.

Wednesday, April 29, 2015

Reflecting PRK P044 Permatang Pauh : Day 10

Thinking locally for P044 voters, I know they have nothing to lose and everything to gain by voting BN. After all, they have been having an absent MP who has done almost nothing for the past 17 years. These are human beings with lives, not just political pawns, to be abused just because a madman need to continue to pretend to be relevant.

An UMNO MP would bring vast changes. The residents will finally be able to taste some of the parliamentary allocation of RM6 million a year which makes up to about RM24 million in total plus the other perks of being the returning lost son. 17 years of undivided loyalty in return for things and favors Anwar Ibrahim did during his tenure as UMNO/BN MP is long enough. It's time for the people of Permatang Pauh to be part of BN seat again.

It is selfish of us the non voters of P044 to deprive the people of Permatang Pauh of something that should be theirs just because we want to prove a political point. Regardless who we support, Anwar Ibrahim, Najib Razak or Malaysia as a whole, people of Permatang Pauh need to give BN a chance, even if just to prove a their point.

Just my two-cents worth.

Friday, April 10, 2015

The Whys of Regrets

Two fridays ago, I said my goodbyes to her
I knew that was my final goodbye, 
The last time I hold her in my arms,
The last time I kiss her hands and cheeks, 
The last time I'll hear her speak to me, 
Sing along with me, retort to my silly jokes,
I knew that's the last time I could thank her,
for making me who I am today,
And that this was to be our last memory together.

And as I walked out of the room, tears running down my cheeks I knew that was the last time she will hear me tell her I love her.

Yet when I got the news this morning, something I always knew was coming, I keep screaming to myself, why didn't I go back, why didn't I tell her I love her once more. Why didn't I stay longer that day. 
The whys of regrets.

Monster Master and her monster.
Oct 2014

Thank you Ms. Loh for the endless things that you've done for me and many many more, you are the kindest and most beautiful person inside and outside that I know. I love you, I am saying it once again, even though I know you'll hear it no more.

Sleep tight now beautiful.

In loving memory of 
Ms. Loh Mei Lin
1956 - 2015

Tuesday, January 20, 2015

Baba Tells : Golden Era of Egyptian Entertainment

Faten Hamama, Umm Kulthum, Abdul Halim Hafeez, Mohamed Abdel Wahab, Farid al Atrash, Asmahan, Baligh Hamdi, Wardah, Omar Sharif, Mariam Fakhr Eddine, Fayza Ahmad, Magda, Soad Hosni, Laila Mourad, Taheyya Karioka, Sabah, Fairouz, Anwar Wagdi, Emad Hamdi, Shadia, Ismail Yassin, Ahmad Ramzy and many many more.


I grew up hearing about them, listening to their songs and music, watching the movies, though half the time I was making up my own storyline due to lack of subtitle and Baba's censoring the racy parts of the movies.

What started off with discussing the life and death of Faten Hamama, the 'Audrey Hepburn of Arabia' soon became a refreshing lesson in Egyptian movies and music history of the 1950s and 1960s with Baba. I wish I could document it all, listening to Baba telling it reminds me that he was young once too. And he lived it all in Cairo at the peak the golden age of Egyptian entertainment era.
After years of denying, tonight he finally indirectly admitted that he named me after Faten Hamama! We slyly threw in the question when he least expected, he just grunted in positive.

Thursday, January 01, 2015

If we could take selfie of our soul

Will it be pure white?
Rainbow of colors?
Different shades of grey?
Or pitch-black?
Are there apps or filters
Enough to fool ourselves?