Happy Birthday Malaysia

First of all, let me apologize...

I'm not a flag bearer or flag waver or flag anything.. In fact, I don't like flags that much at all. I have never, nor will I plan to be caught holding a flag, waving it enthusiastically like some person high on caffeine, not even on National Day......

I'm indifferent about Malaysian politics most of the time.... I didn't go marching during the ISA protest in KL last month, nor did I oppose those who did go marching. I was just sitting in Starbucks sipping coffee... I couldn't be bothered if PAS and DAP can't get along, or if the former Menteri Besar of Selangor's bungalow was 5 million or 24 million... Anything more than 1 million is more than my brain can count. I don't really bother if people think our PM is mysteriously involved in some Mongolia murder or that his wife seems to look a bit like a witch character in old Malay movies (am I going to be arrested for saying that?). And I certainly couldn't be bothered if elected State Assembly Men driving a Toyota Camry instead of a Proton Perdana is considered less patriotic. If I could have a say, we'd all be riding bicycles anyway. And to quote from Henry Ford, you can have any colour you want, as long as it's black. Less polution, we'd all be slim and fit, and guys, they girls all think its a hell lot more romantic...

Everyone likes to criticize, everyone likes to complain.. It's understandable.

We say our government is corrupt, we say the anti corruption agency shoves people off roof tops after they testify, we say the police rather take bribes that issue you summons, the customs take a cut in custom duties savings, and the immigration along with every other government arm is corrupt, and we use big giant fancy words like nepotism and cronyism to make the government look like the big bad wolf, always there to prey on the people. We say the government servants are leeches feeding off the system and hindering our countries progress. And perhaps many of the times, it's true...... there are corrupt and useless people in our government.

Then we complain that our laws are oppressive. We say things like the Official Secrets Act and the Internal Security Act stifle our freedom of speech, that we can't say the things we want to say, that we can only say the things the government allows us to say. We argue that no man should be detained without a fair trial and people aren't allow to simply say things to challenge the government.

After that, we complain that our country and has lousy facilities.... Internet is still 10 years behind everyone else, broadband connection is limited to cities, roads are filled with pot holes, toilets are dirty, public transport system is hopeless, and every year or so, Dataran Merdeka turns into a swimming pool even after the 5 billion ringgit SMART tunnel was built.. supposedly to solve this very problem...

What else?... What else do Malaysian complain about?

But wait a minute...

Isn't there something about the health care in America being in a complete mess recently? Weren't prisoners unlawfully detained in Guantanamo bay for months and months? Wasn't half the British Parliment MP's caught with their pants down cheating on claims? Wasn't the Italian Prime Minister reported to be 'consorting' with 17 year old girls? Wasn't China accused of completely blocking google from the country and introducing the Great Firewall of China, completely filtering the internet the chinese access? Wasn't there a riot there between the Hans and the Muslim in the inner parts of China?

Isn't there still a crisis going on in Sudan, when their leader was declared a war criminal? Isn't Myanmar on the verge of being kicked out of ASEAN over Aung San Su Ki? Didn't the Japan just report it's economy is shrinking.. again? Isn't there 6 million people (or more) in the US who just lost their job? Wasn't there just a complain today that basic hospital care standards in the UK were appalling?

Yup, it's no bed of roses anywhere in the world. There are problems high and low in every corner of the earth. Malaysia is no exception.

I'm not asking you to accept it. I'm not asking you to be indifferent. I'm just asking that before you open your mouth to complain how lousy a country we live in... think about all the above. Read what other people in other countries are doing. You will see the good, the bad and the ugly. By doing this hopefully before you get to the bad and ugly part about this country (which we all know exist anyway), you would not have forgotten the good parts. Be fair.

We live in a great country. Maybe not as charming, or as romantic as other beautiful places in the world, but still special in its own way. Everytime I drive to KLCC, and look up at the tall Twin Towers, I am awed, and filled with a sense of identity.. It might not be the tallest in the world anymore.. but you know what, it still is the coolest around the region. I went up the Oriental Pearl Tower in Shanghai... and the most exciting moment didn't come when I saw the view of the city. No, it came, when I saw this...


There is just something about standing in the middle of a foreign land, thousands of miles away, only to find yourself staring at something from your own backyard... You feel proud, you feel excited... patriotic even... It's not so much about my country having one of the tallest building or the biggest stadium, that wasn't why I felt excited to see this picture... It's about identity. I felt excited because I could point at that picture and say "I'm from that place!" and people would know it.

Case in point:

The Eiffel Tower isn't the tallest building in the world.. but it is by far one of the most recognizable, most visited and most photographed structure in the world. The french are immensely proud of it, because it is the symbol and identity of Paris, and by extension, France. People come because they consider it special. But really, there's nothing special about it at all. It's only special because just like everything else the French make, they treat it special, therefore it becomes special, as an extension of their French identity. . A self fulfilling prophesy. Think about it; Evian is just water from a lake in Geneva, Champagne and Cognac are really just name of places in France these drinks are named after. Anyone else could make something equivalent or better.. but only the french can make it French.

My point is, the French are proud to be French not because the country is great.. or that their laws are perfect, their government good or their facilities are excellent. It's simply because that is who they are. They take pride in who they are, the things they do and the things they make.... and when you treat something special enough, such as your identity, eventually, it becomes special.

Every great nation in the world exhibit this trait, this sense of pride for being just who they are; Americans, French, British, Germans, French, Chinese, Japanese, Korean..... just ask and you'll see it in their eyes.

Can't we do the same? We are Malaysians. Our country is young, we have imperfect laws, our government is far from clean and less than efficient, our public transport is hopeless, our internet is slow and our road signs are only good for getting you lost..... but can't we just be proud of who we are anyway? We have a skyline instantly recognizable around the world, food in Malaysia is THE BEST (I don't care what other people say), our weather is sunny and warm all year round, we have no typhoons or natural disasters, we have oil and natural resources, our standard of living relatively good considering the cost of living here, petrol is the cheapest in the region, education all the way to secondary school is practically free, and the Malaysian people.... I tell you...

The Malaysian people are probably one of the quirkiest people you'll ever know. Most of us know at least 3 languages, we speak English in the most peculiar way (which probably only Malaysians and Singaporeans will be able to catch), we regularly take Indian chapatis in the morning, chinese noodles for lunch, western black peppers steaks for dinner and Malay nasi lemak for supper. We shamelessly take a holiday and celebrate anyway when other religious festivals arrive. We have so many holidays throughout the year; Hari Raya, Chinese New Year, Wesak Day, Thaipusam, Deepavali, Christmas, Federal Territory Day, the Kings Birthday, respective state Sultan's birthday, Labour Day, Prophet Muhammad's birthday... the list goes on and on.... And if you are a shopping freak, we have 3 nationwide Mega Sales promotions per year, each lasting a month, and in between we have Christmas Sale, Year End Sale, Chinese New Year Sale, Hari Raya Sale, Deepavali Sale, Stock clearance sale..... We pretty much find every excuse to have some sort of sale to go shopping.

You know what I think? I think at this teenager age of 52 years old as a country, we are doing pretty ok.. In fact, we have it good. When the people of a country start fussing about civil liberties and media reforms and human rights, you know their moving in the right direction, even if their not quite there yet. About the anti-ISA marches that went on last month, don't these people have better things to do on a Saturday morning than march for miles just to hand a memorandum to the king? No, they don't. Because they have good jobs, with enough money not to have to work on weekends, because their children are in the malls shopping since there's a sale, and their house is not flooded with water so there's no need to evacuate. And so they busy themselves with finer issues like transparency and rights and justice and what have you....These are signs that our country is growing, and that its people are growing. We have graduated from the cradle.. but we aren't quite full grown adults yet. Is that so hard to accept?

So, what I'm just trying to say here is; love your country, even if you don't like waving flags. Love it for all it's beauty, all it's peculiarities and even it's ugly side, warts and all. Love it simply because it belongs to us. If everyone does this, I assure you, come rain or shine, riots or protest, you will be able to hold your head up high anywhere you go in the world when you say: "I AM A MALAYSIAN."

I leave you with this MTV done by this Malaysian student that caused quite a controversy here in Malaysia back in 2007. It hit a lot of nerves, maybe because a lot of it were true, but you can't deny this man loves his country... despite his sharp criticism. I've never heard a more hip or passionately song version of Negaraku than this anyway. Happy Birthday Malaysia.....

Irony of the oldest people in the world

There's a thought that just came to me out of the blue, half way through my day;

The oldest people in the world are never noticed until they die...

I mean.. think about it, now and then, we read about how the oldest in the world just died.... They lived till 101 years old or something, passed away peacefully etc etc. Isn't it a bit sad and tragic that it hits the headlines for people to notice AFTER they passed away?

You get recognition for being the oldest person alive after you're dead. I'm searching my brain for a word to try to describe this..... but can't. Is it ironic? Is it sad? Is it twisted? Maybe its all three. Why is it that dying as the oldest person live is more headline worthy than every single day they stay alive? Yes, I know the paper's and news agencies can't be having headlines everyday stating "Oldest Man / Woman in the world Still ALIVE"..... But isn't celebrating every day a person is alive more meaningful than acknowledgment in death?

I'm not saying we shouldn't report, honour and pay homage to those who have passed away. But it just seems like I hardly ever see any headlines for some sort of celebration for the oldest person in the world. How come the Mayor of the city doesn't give them a key to the city or an honorary citizenship, or free parking coupons for the rest of their life? (OK, probably not that many years left, sorry, but at least......) We say they live in their golden years.... we call them Warga Emas (Golden Citizens in Malay), and yet, we remember to celebrate them, only when their gone...

Tsk tsk tsk.....

It'd be more pleasant change if for once, we come across a piece of news that CELEBRATES THEIR LIFE WHILE THEY ARE ALIVE... rather than a sad little obituary after, by which time... it'd be too little, too late.

Male Intimate Moments...

You may or may not already know this about me... but I'm not much of a big fan of the whole idea of 'male intimate moments'.... (No I'm not talking about 2 grown men kissing here).

I mean that intimate moment when 2 people sort of like reveal some truths about themselves, often something very close to their heart pertaining to the person they are speaking to. For example, if you told someone "I've always thought of you" or "I miss those times we had together" or "Sometimes I wish those good times could last longer"... you know, that sort of talk la......

I don't really have a problem with telling or listening to someone say this things. In fact, I relish the opportunity to tell people and listen to what people (especially close friends) have to say and share. But when it comes from another full grown man, one that I've not met or spoken to for the past 4 (FOUR) years...... it sort of sends shivers down my spine a bit.

I received a call out of the blue just 2 days ago. It was a college friend of mine, who left after our diploma and started working. To tell you honestly, this guy was never really popular nor had many friends in his time in colleague. He couldn't speak well, was very very naive, didn't bother mixing or talking to people much and basically the total embodiment of the anti-social butterfly. my friends used to make fun of him for his very slow and stuttering style of talking and his less than normal squarish face. I can't remember just how I ended up becoming his friend. But I do remember feeling so so sorry for him and just generally pissed off with my friends for shunning this guy just because he wasn't very socially adept. And so I decided to befriend him. I was nice to him for a change, I had lunch with him, I shared lecture notes with him, and treated him with respect instead of jesting at him, and when exams loomed, I studied with him and shared with him what I knew. And in return, he would always tell me what happened in class when I overslept and skipped class (which was A LOT), and he offered me rides back home on his motorbike (I used to take the bus or walk)....... and told me 10 times that he was on standby if ever there was anything he could do for me.

Honestly, I wasn't really particularly attached to him in any sort of way, though I did consider him a friend. He was a good and decent guy.. maybe a bit weird and naive.. but still, I for his purity of heart and sincerity.. I actually rated his character higher than I did my own bunch of friends; seemingly normal but underneath, perhaps not as truthful in their actions and words. And because of that, I always made sure I treated him nice and as a genuine friend. I guess he sort of appreciated that, because every now and then, he'd say things to me like "Thank you very much... my friend" with this whole other tone in that tells you there's a whole level of emotions underneath those works.... which always made me feel uncomfortable. If not for the fact that I was convinced he was not gay, I would have suspected he was in love with me or something.

Anyway, I was a bit worried for him when leaving college. I just wondered how he would cope in the outside world where people were probably harsher than my friends ever were. People like him were only too easy to be manipulated by others. Slow, naive and trusting of others.... yes I was worried. Also I wondered if he would able to find a girlfriend. He had a heart of GOLD..... but he was neither charming, nor witty, nor funny, nor well spoken, nor extrovert. His unusually squarish face and short(er) height also meant that physically he wasn't exactly hot stuff either. Which girl would have the heart or the patients to really get to know the guy beneath all these seemingly lame and attractive qualities? Not any I've ever met at the time anyway. Despite what people said about books and covers, I was a realist enough to know that impressions DO count, how you carry yourself DOES count. I felt sad, because I honestly did not think there would be any girl around who could see what I saw in this guy.... probably loyal to a fault, honest to death and kind and caring to those he cared about.

So he left college and started work. And since he insisted on living in the ice age, with no facebook, no friendster and no email. We eventually lost contact. He lost his phone, along with all our contacts, and just like that, he was out of the picture. The rest of us went on to complete our studies, went overseas for our degrees, came back, got jobs.. and continued meeting up once a month or so.

Which brings me back to my original opening statements. I received a call out of the blue...

"Do you know who is this? Can you recognize my voice?"... said the man.

"Eeeeeeeermmmm..................................".... I replied.

There was only one voice in the world like that. The square pants.. I mean.. face... but he never spoke this fluently.... and my mandarin had only gotten worse these 2 years.

"I am XXX XXX... do you still remember me?".... came the reply to my doubt..

"XXXX!!! OMG... HEY, HOW HAVE YOU BEEN?".....

.

.
.
so on and so forth went the conversation for about 15 minutes. I love it when friends CALL instead of send you lazy messages of Facebook and such.

He sounded much more fluent in speaking.. and he no longer stuttered, and was now working in Johor..... My mind got transported back 4 years ago... when I brought him along with me to Klang for Bak Kut Teh middle of the night.. and I showed him around the place and all... NO ONE had bothered bringing him around KL since he came (he was from Johor)...I didn't want his exposure in KL was not limited to just college and hostel... hence the Bak Kut Teh trip.

We agreed that if he came down to KL again, I'd meet up with him to catch up and he made me promised that if I was ever in Johor, I MUST call him. And that was where the mushy stuff started. It was all in Mandarin of course, so I can't really translate it here... but it went along the lines of "I miss those good times last time....." and "I miss you guys..." and "It was happy times..."...

:-S

I'm glad too dude.. and yes it was good times.. but gee.... could you try to keep it together a bit?

It's not like he was being all emo or crying or anything.. It's just that hearing all these things being spoken so frankly and so out of the blue just sort of made me feel uncomfortable.. what more on the phone, what more with a guy I haven't seen or spoken to in 4 years. I guess I wouldn't have mind if it were in the right setting.. like maybe over drinks.. and we were on the subject.. But to say it out of the blue like that was........ :-S

But then again, I remembered he was always a bit funny in that sense. It was one of the reasons why people shunned him.

This was fast shaping out to be one of those 'male intimate moments' a.k.a. MIM. These 'intimate moments' are usually kept at a minimum and strictly on a need basis only between guys. We enjoy each others company.... we like talking stupid things... we watch sports and talk about local politics and the latest gizmo's and gadgets... we aren't talking about our feelings all the time. Those do come... but usually in a slightly more nonchalant manner. Maybe its just me.. or maybe its a guy ego thing, I don't know... But those MIM's come far and wide in between. Too much of that sort of stuff sort of makes us look more like... well.. women (Not that that's a bad thing, no offense ladies!). It's more natural for us to convey how we miss our guy friends by whacking each other in the back and shouting in the most obnoxious manner "HOW THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN MAN, I THOUGHT YOU DIE ALREADY LEH......" and that would be enough to convey the message and completely avoided the ever feared MIM..... We keep it light, with lots of jokes and jesting sprinkled in between... because we want to avoid having to hold each others hand if he starts crying about how his girlfriend left him.

So ya.. maybe I'm more than a bit uncomfortable with men sharing their feelings with each other.. and this friend of mine was doing it big time. Maybe he was usually introverted and didn't share his feelings much.. thus doesn't really know how to share it in a more 'palatable' way (if there ever is one la)...but at least some things still never change...

He still is honest to a fault.... and still has no girlfriend.

Insights into my Heart

I've had an epiphany. I just discovered that I'm special.......just like everyone else. :-S No really.. it seems personalities like me make up less than 1% of the population. Haha...

I think its been easily 5 years since I last took any personality test; last being Personality Plus test that was all the rage then.. Since then, I've been pretty much living in a cave and lost interest in taking these sort of test. Sure they're interesting and fun to take.. but I feel that human beings sometimes are too complex and too sophisticated to just be generalized over a short test and a few lines. Its not something I take too seriously......until today that is.

As fate would have it, I stumbled upon a personality test that other bloggers seem to be taking (here's the link) and since the questions didn't reach a hundred and the sentences were all short, I decided it was something I could do in 5 minutes without frying my brain.

At the end... here's what I am.. INFJ - meaning Introverted Intuitive Feeling Judging. What does it mean? Beats me...it's as enlightening to me as saying I Need Freaking Jellybeans. Luckily it also had an easier name to remember.. The Counselor (you can read it here , here and here also and tell me if it's true).... I didn't know what a Counselor was... but it sure sounded damn cool... Like Obi-wan Kenobi being The Negotiator in Star Wars. I was Compulsive Blogger, The Counselor.... Muahahahaha.....

Ahem...

But seriously though... I never expect to be reading something so insightful into my own heart off the internet just by answering 50 questions. And it goes beyond the rudimentary you are nice, you are witty, you like people etc etc.... This were genuinely things that go through my head and my heart that people have never ever been able to understand about me. I don't blame them... sometimes I think I don't understand myself fully either. But anyway, here's a few things that really strike a chord with me in the personality of The Counselor:

"Counselors can be hard to get to know, they tend not to share their innermost thoughts or their powerful emotional reactions except with their loved ones. They are highly private people, with an unusually rich, complicated inner life. Friends or colleagues who have known them for years may find sides emerging which come as a surprise."

You have no idea how true this is. Some people have known me for YEARS AND YEARS and still not know the true essence of me. I'm somewhat an expert in dodging personal and private questions. I usually deflect them and change the subject subtly if I'm not ready to share with that person or say it in the most nonchalant you'd think nothing of it. I never reveal the inner parts of my private life to people unless I'm convinced they are genuine and they really want to care. You will find that I am a person very very easy to have a conversation with, but unless you really really dig deep, you will not know the more intimate details of me and my life.

"Beneath the quiet exterior, INFJs hold deep convictions about the weightier matters of life. "

I hardly take strong stands on anything.. Very easygoing. But occasionally I become very stern or forceful about things when they are something close to my heart.. Things like care for the mentally ill, or the abuse of women and children...... and on a lighter note, where the best nasi lemak in town is.. lol.

"INFJs are deeply concerned about their relations with individuals as well as the state of humanity at large. They are, in fact, sometimes mistaken for extroverts because they appear so outgoing and are so genuinely interested in people.................On the contrary, INFJs are true introverts, who can only be emotionally intimate and fulfilled with a chosen few from among their long-term friends, family, or obvious "soul mates."

I've known this about myself for the longest time, to the point of maybe repeating it to death. I relate to people, one on one the best. I can do the whole groupie thing... but its when I'm one to one with a person that i feel genuine connection and fulfillment. It has always ever been the thing I crave for the most. I genuinely like and care for people, and enjoy getting to know them intimately... which is probably why people may think I'm an extrovert.

".....at intervals INFJs will suddenly withdraw into themselves, sometimes shutting out even their intimates. This apparent paradox is a necessary escape valve for them, providing both time to rebuild their depleted resources and a filter to prevent the emotional overload to which they are so susceptible as inherent "givers." As a pattern of behavior, it is perhaps the most confusing aspect of the enigmatic INFJ character to outsiders, and hence the most often misunderstood -- particularly by those who have little experience with this rare type."

I get this too. Sometimes, I just go into this 'shell' mode.. lost in my own thoughts.. I know it because it is usually the time when I feel like I need some space and alone time from EVERYONE. Some time just to be alone to be with your thoughts and reflect on my life. There has so far been only ONE person able to figure this own on their own, and it took her 7 years of being in a relationship wto realize it. It's usually in these times that I start my nonsensical rantings and blogging online, often resulting in looOong draggy posts.

"They are deep, complex individuals, who are quite private and typically difficult to understand. INFJs hold back part of themselves, and can be secretive."

HAH... you have no idea. For some reason, I have observed that I only talk about specific things to specific people. Everyone and everything is compartmentalized. It's like everyone has a pieces of this jig-saw puzzle of me, but NO ONE has the big picture. Sometimes resulting in me feeling like no one truly understands me. My own doing really. And yes.. I'm sort of a secretive person... but isn't that another word for private? Hence, also the anonymous blogging here; its a privacy thing.

" Usually self-expression comes more easily to INFJs on paper, as they tend to have strong writing skills."

That explains the blogging!

"...INFJs tend to be easily hurt, though they may not reveal this except to their closest companions. INFJs may "silently withdraw as a way of setting limits," rather than expressing their wounded feelings—a behavior that may leave others confused and upset"

This would be my usual reaction when feeling hurt. I've never been the confrontational type.. And if you hurt my feelings, chances are, you'd probably not know at all, since I'm neither spiteful nor do I want to come across as emotionally selfish by making a big deal out of my own feelings to you. Instead, I just silently retreat. I slowly stop calling you, I slow stop the calls and messages, and wait..... for the day YOU come to me. You will if you are sincere, and I should not have to ask it of you. If not.. then you'd go on with your busy life not noticing a thing, my hurt will subside, I will wish love and happiness in your life.... and becoming exactly what it says in my blog introduction; someone you know, but never really knew.

Some famous people with the same personality are Nathan, prophet of Israel (no kidding?), Mother Teresa of Calcutta, Martin Luther King, Jr, Billy Crystal & Jerry Seinfeld (love their comedy acts), Nelson Mandela, Mel Gibson and Nicole Kidman (love her!)

I think I just learned a thing or two about myself today. OK, maybe learn is not the word. More like.... my vague and fuzzy sense of self and personal understanding has suddenly become crystal clear. There's some sort of profound effect when you read a sentence that strikes so closely to your heart. Others read it and go "Oh really? Well, that's interesting". If you're lucky they'll manage to hide that patronizing tone. But for you personally, it's literally reading into the insights into your heart and soul. The sentences practically screams out at you. The words are there, but in between the lines it screams "THIS IS ME. THIS IS WHO I AM AND WHAT I"M LIKE THAT NO ONE HAS BEEN ABLE TO UNDERSTAND! ITS RIGHT HERE!" You yearn for a person to fully realize the significance of that puny little sentence, hoping that they not brush it aside so thoughtlessly, because brushing it aside would be brushing aside such a rare and precious insight into your heart. What a shame! What a waste!

Sometimes, you just wish people would pay more attention to the written word; they can be so underrated sometimes.

But then again... it may just be another one of those personality test, it's like reading your horoscope in the daily papers...who takes these stuff seriously anyway right? They're all full of mumbo jumbo and vague generalizations like "You've had a seriess of unhappy events"..."There will be challenges in the coming weeks" or "Be careful of the one who seems to never tell the truth".....that could apply to anyone!!...Or do they?

Peeing in Style.....

I was just at The Gardens Midvalley the other day.. urgently looking for a toilet. I followed the signboards and rush forward as I saw the washroom in sight..

But I stopped dead in my tracks as I saw the sign before me.. There in displayed prominently in green.

RM5 per entrance.

WTF?! Directly in front of the entrance, there's an escalator, that goes one level up and directly above this washroom is another one.. near identical.. free of charge.

"Who is going to pay RM5 just to use the loo when there is one for free just 20 seconds away?" I asked myself...But then I remembered where I was.. It THE GARDENS, supposedly one of the premier shopping places around KL ala Star Hill Gallery, everythings couture, everythings exclusive... where if you need to see the price tag, you probably can't afford it. Now it seems us regular folk shouldn't be peeing in the same vicinity with the rich and famous.

So who would pay RM5 to use the toilet? Maybe its for the rich.. wanting to make a statement. Like saying to the rest of the world that they can afford to pee in style while th rest of us would have to just the regular way. But for some reason, I felt that the ain't the whole story. Rich people get rich by being careful with their money. They became who they are because they were prudent with the money they spent. And you don't get rich paying RM5 for taking a leak. So, the truly rich people, would have just gone upstairs.

So again, who wou;d apy RM5 to use the toilet? People who want to show that they have the money of course. Rich people aren't preoccupied with showing off their wealth. Their too busy hiding it from the tax department. :P Who wants to show that they have money? People who have enough to splurge... but not enough to call themselves rich of course! And there you have your answer. The upper middle class. People who earn 5 figure salaries a month who can't quite buy a Porche with cash up front... but can afford to blow RM2000 on a handbag and yes, RM5 on using the loo... Its all about making a statement for the upper middle class folk. Its always about being seen with this or that.

The middle class contributes a lot ot a countries consumer spending actually. The larger the middle class, the more there is consumer spending, because for some reason or another... middle class folk feel the constant need to buy things, especially luxury items. The minute they have some extra cash, the spend it on some luxury item as a 'treat' to themselves.. a taste of heaven as it were... it can be a nice meal at a fancy restaurant.. it could be an LV bag.. or a some other designer goods. The point is.. it becomes more like a hollow display of non existent wealth. You spend all your money on things that are supposed to signify wealth and prosperity.. and in doing so, you actually end up spending your wealth. Kind of ironic if you ask me.

So unless the seats are gold plated, there's wifi connection in there and there's a beautiful lady welcoming me at the entrance, I don't think I'll be visiting it anytime soon. I want to be rich, not middle class! :P

Cheers

Somewhere beyond the sea, there's me!

The last 2 months have really been crazy....

I've was sent to Shanghai alone on work; I had to drive 350km down to Singapore over the weekend for meetings, TWICE, I've had to drive up north to Kedah, ALSO TWICE...and I've been to office on a weekend...... to many times to remember.

So FOR ONCE, I'm taking a mini break! I'm taking one small little day in my ever accumulating annual leave balance, and bringing my other half with me to P.A.N.G.K.O.R!! You have no idea how hard it is to even get one day of with the kind of workload I have. My boss wasn't even around to approve my leave and I had to email him.

"Sir, I want to apply one day leave this Friday. Planning to go to Pangkor / Lumut this weekend. OK with you?".....I typed nervously and pressed the send button. With everyone working over drive, it felt kind of guilty to just chuck everything aside and go sip cocktails by the beach.

20 minutes later... a single word reply came "OK".... I was jumping for joy.... in my heart la. Boy do I feel like I need this break. Life can't be all about work ma...

Ya, ya.. its a bit wet and rainy this time of year, and Pangkor isn't exactly THE most popular island to go to... but a holiday is a holiday man, even if its just a weekend. Boy do I love Malysia sometimes. You can just jump in your car and be anywhere around the Peninsular within 4 hours! Anyways, I plan to enjoy myself just doing whatever it is la that people do on island resorts, laze around, sit banana boats, snorkeling... anything la, I'm game... it'd be my first time anyway. Haha...And I really look forward to bringing my camera and trying my hand at some seaside sunset shots!

So if you don't hear from me these 3 days, its because I'm.....

Somewhere beyond the sea
Somewhere waiting for me
My lover stands on golden sands
And watches the ships that go sailing

Enjoy the song!... (Sorry about the Disney Cartons.. was the best I could find for this song)

I LOVE HUGS

I love hugs. There are never enough hugs to go around these days. Maybe outside of this region, and in western societies, hugs and kisses on the cheek are pretty common ways of greeting and saying goodbye to people..... Heck, I think men in Italy probably kiss each other more than any other in the world right?

But here, hugs actually come quite scarce and come far and wide in between. This of course does not include hugs you receive from your family and lover; I'm talking about hugs between friends. There are a few reasons hugs are a rare occurrence here.

1. Malaysia is a dominantly Muslim society

Yes, we live in a multi racial, multi cultured society, but the official religion is still Islam, and the majority is still Muslim. Nothing wrong with that I suppose, only that if you were a Muslim, and you were caught hugging another Muslim girl.... well, congratulations, you've just found yourself a wife. Or at best, you'd receive a fine for indecent behaviour and khalwat. For that reason, you don't see many Malays warmly hugging each other. And so when the majority does not practice hugging, everyone pretty much follows suit. So, no hugs for everyone! Boo...

2. Asians generally are less touchy

Now, if you watch westerners greet each other, kissing and hugging people you meet comes second nature. The men will hug and kiss the other ladies cheek, and the ladies will hug and give a men a peck on the cheek. Here in Malaysia, when we meet each other, it's pretty much a wave of the hand, nod of the head and that's about as touchy as you get. I don't know why we don't hug. I think its about body language and personal space. Go read the book Body Language by Allan Pease, it teaches you EVERYTHING you need to know about body language. For us, your physical touch is the most intimate zone you can allow a person. 1 meter away would be considered personal space, 3~4 meters would be considered social space, and anything beyond is public space. For westerners, this 'zoning' might be smaller, allowing close proximity with others without feeling uncomfortable. To demonstrate this, they did a study on a CCTV video recording of a Japanese man talking to an American. They both are trying to strike a balance, keeping each other in the social zone. The American keeps taking a step forward, and the Japanese keeps taking a step backward. And over the hour conversation, the actually end up circling the whole room. So in that sense, we Asians are a bit more 'no touchy touchy'. at least not with unfamiliar people.

3. Asian women are more conservative

The most awkward kind of a guy can possibly receive is the 'body-no-touchy-arms-clinging-loosely-around-the-back' kind of hugs from their female friends. Its damn awkward to receive hugs like that and usually, I'd rather not hug at all if its like that. Reason being that the women are trying their best to have any bodily contact with you as a guy; they don't want you having a feel of their breast it seems....My reaction? WHAT THE HECK? Not every guy is a perv ok... and there are actually some of us capable of embracing a woman without getting all horny and all.... But since when did a hug ever become a sexual thing? A hug is supposed to be warm, and friendly, caring and loving. Its not like when a man hugs another woman he goes "oOo.. I can feel her breast..".... Does the woman go "Shit.. he can feel my breast!"???? I hope not.... But generally, that is the feedback I get. Our female counterparts tend to hug each other more, and less so us men.. Oh well... I guess we could always just hug each other guys.

As a result of No.3, I actually implemented a certain rule "Thou shall not hug until you you are hugged".. That was the rule. Don't try to simply hug your female friends, no matter how close you think you are. God knows what they might think! I mean, there were quite a few times, when saying goodbye, I'd be asking myself the question ten times over. Should I? Should I not? What if I reach out, she she pushes away? What if it become awkward? We can't shake hands, we are friends, not business partners! In the end, I just manage to muster a little wave, a nod and bye bye.. anti climactic.. potong saja la.. Sigh...

But I broke my own rule recently. I was meeting up with a friend I hadn't seen for almost a year... being overseas and all.. and as we were about to say goodbye, I just went straight to the point "CAN I GIVE YOU A HUG?"... I mean, a simple wave of the hand seems a bit too cold and distant.. A shake of the hand seemed too formal. A hug was the only appropriate response!YES, came the instant reply with arms wide open. IT FELT GREAT.... and suddenly I realized "Boy, I'm sure lacking hugs.. I need more!"....

My next 'target' is this other friend that I've been having yam cha sessions with for the past 2 years. We've know each other for about almost 5 years now, and she's like this big sister to me, constantly dishing out advise, and buying me stuff... Have never ever hugged her. WATCH OUT, I'M COMING TO GET YOU! Haha.....

Cheers.

P/S: I also notice that it's easier to hug friends who are just around for a while, and going back overseas. Maybe its because everyone knows that these meetings are rare, and so SOME form of extra affection is in order. I used to have a friend I'd hug every time she was returning to Australia... Now that she's back and I see her a lot more often, I haven't received a single hug!! So, in order to get more hugs, you actually need to move away gentlemen! Got it?

Silence Kills

The interesting thing about silence is this; everyone agrees that it speaks more than words. Ironic really, since the definition of silence itself is properly to NOT speak.

Silence can be incredibly awkward.. like when you just met someone.. and you don't quite know how to keep the conversation flowing. Two people unsure what to say, or how to behave around each other, and they invariable end up just not saying anything.. thus the akward silence. I'm sure we've all been there. It can also be when it's a awkward situation, like when caught with you pants down (literally and metaphorically) or in a less than usual situation.. there is a silence there, because nobody really knows how to behave... and we all just try to shuffle along and pretend like nothing happened. The silence just emphasizes how uncomfortable we are with each other.

But silence can also be comfortable in a way. When two good friends or lovers just sit around the coffee table, sipping coffee, not saying a word. It's OK to be silent, and though it may seem like there is no interaction between the two, they probably are in fact just enjoy each others company. The silence just emphasizes how comfortable and content you are with each other. Like lovers walking by the beach during sunset, hand in hand... listening to the evening breeze and watching the sun go down.. Trying to hard to create conversation my just ruin the whole moment.. anything that needed to be said, is said there, through your skin.. touching one another, holding hands. You can even be on the phone with each other, and not say a word.. it sounds funny.. but this time.. it emphasizes just how comfortable you are with each other.

Silence can be killing... and just downright agonizing.. An email unreplied, a call unreturned, a text message, completely ignored. Have you ever felt that way? Wondering why this person has not returned you call or emails? First you tell yourself to be as fair as possible. Give the person all the time they need.

Maybe they are busy, maybe they can't find the right moment or opportunity to reply to you, and still....................no reply.

Then your insecurities start playing at you; maybe I said something wrong? Did I offend him / her in some way? Maybe I said some things I shouldn't have said? We think the worst when we are left to our own devices. When it's a persons silence we are dealing with.. we really really imagine the worst. Our insecurities just play out.. and it is at that moment that we often realize just how vulnerable we are.. how we as human beings really are so dependent on others for our sense of self. It's a scary realization.

We start doubting ourselves, and our self worth. Maybe he /she isn't that into me after all.. Maybe she didn't really mean the things she said. Maybe she was just having her fun and saying things to me to lead me on, giving me false hope. Maybe its my own stupidity to think the they were sincere towards me? Was I imagining things that were not there?

Then comes the sense of betrayal, and anger. You feel like you've been taken for a ride.. Like you've been played like a fiddle. Was this person EVER sincere? Is certainly looks like they were not. Why else would she blow me off like that? I though we had a good thing going on. I though we had good momentum, why the abrupt stop?

You feel like you've been running in the dark, trying to chase after your friend.. She / He's leading you on with their voices, prodding you, asking you to come forward, move faster, move closer.... and suddenly you hit a brick wall....and then...... nothing..... silence....... not a word.. no "hello, sorry im busy".. no "I'm damn pissed at you".. no "I hate you, don't want to ever see you again", no "Ive been playing with you all this while"..... nothing.......

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Just silence

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And you don't know if you should feel cheated or angry or stood up. You don't know if its a genuine mistake, if the person is genuinely unavailable, or if they just consciously ignore you. If they are ignoring you purposefully.. WHY? WHY? What did I do wrong? If nothing, what happened to you? What happened in between? Why aren't we talking anymore?

The silence kills.. The unknown just eats at your heart and your mind..

Your mind gets consumed by those unanswered questions. It leaves you confused, hurt and angry all at the same time. You have only questions, with no answers. You have only doubts, uncertainty and fears. Nothing kills your hopes and spirits faster than this deafening silence.

Silence..........it kills.

Reviewing my new years resolution

I'm not one to usually set new year resolutions. In fact, I think this is the first time I have ever did. So, since its now August, I suddenly thought it would be a good time to see how I've done so far. Just for some background:

Here's my new yeasr resolution for 2009

written back in January. How's it going so far? Lets see:

1. Loose some freaking weight!

Hmm.. I guess for once, I can actually say, so far so good! This time last year, till the end of the year.. I was around 90kg, touching 92kg.. Seriously unfit and out of shape. No confidence, felt fat, yada yada yada... I think most people know how that feels. So even though I knew this was probably the hardest and least likely to be successful, I put it top of my list. I started forcing myself to leave office earlier to go swimming or jogging in the park, even if it was already 8pm, for at least 3 times a week without fail. Did I diet? Hehe.. sorry no. Men are horrible at dieting. But I did significantly cut down on food. Half rice every single time, more proteins, no oily or friend stuff....and tried forgetting when was the last time I ate KFC. Oh, and I threw out the weighing scale. I didn't want to read the difference, I wanted to SEE it for myself. So I just kept this routine up. It made me feel more energetic throughout the day after a while.. and before you know it, I stepped on a brand new weight scale (I had to buy it since I LITERALLY threw the old one out)... I was down to 84kg. I had lost about 8kg since my heaviest! Cloths fit better, and I started feeling better about myself. People say I look younger now.... but I'm wondering "Hey, when do the girls start swooning at the sight of me? What else is this for if not for the ladies right?" haha... perhaps if I lost another 10kgs and did plastic surgery la.... Next milestone, 80kg.

2. Fashion Sense and New Hair Cut

This one's a bit tricky. I still don't think I have much fashion sense. I have tried going out shopping the entire day with my trusty fashion advisor a.k.a other half. She has better taste, and knows the kind of cloths I would wear (or rather the ones I would rather die than wear).. but here's what I found out. Good men's wear is expensive here in Malaysia. Or at least, the kind that I liked were expensive. I've always had a prefence for clean, earthy, minimalist and understated styles. I never wear all those 'lala chai' funky cloths and all. Simple elegant design and colours that look good without coming across as looking cheap or 'cekai'.. Is that so hard to find? Well apparently ya. When I was in the UK, buying men's clothing was so much easier. A lot of the cloths were more tastefully made for men, without being exhorbitantly expensive, or exceedingly tacky. So anyway, I have made a few additions to my wardrobe, but it's still a work in progress.

I got rid of my old spectacles.... and got myself a solid black rimmed spectacles that was supposed to be 'in fashion'. I was worried that I'd look like an owl or justin timberlake in those funny glasses.. but I guess it turned out fine.

New hair cut? Check. Well.. not a significant departure from my old hair... But definitely less Ah Beng... I abandoned the old time indian barber that would cut my hair for RM10 with no questions asked. Sure, the cut was always rough, every cut was at risk of turning out different or looking like a disaster, and the barber's hand sometimes smelt of dhall.. but I'll miss the simplicity of it all.. Come in, sit down, grab your magazine.. Pendek atau panjang? Slop mau? Sideburn potong?... No fancy styling, so debate about whether funky or normal is better, or which one suits your face. At my new hair saloon, it cost 3~4 times more, the guy constantly chatters to me in Cantonese, tries to sell me more hair products (insisting that something is wrong with my hair) and perpetually trying to turn my hair into something more 'lala'... I resist all the time, and the only saving grace here is, in the end, I think he still does a pretty good job la. Looks smart enough for work, refreshing enough for play. But still.. not good enough for girls to come swooning yet.. Oh well...

3. Blog more honestly

Well.. for starters, I did start a new blog with the word 'honest' in it. Does that count? With this new blog, I'm actually starting a clean sheet... and I no longer have that burdensome feeling of whethere or not what I was writing was 'in line' with the previous posts. So, if I want to say fuck off, I'll say it.. If I want to say I cried like a baby during Forrest Gump.. well, I just did actually. The only thing I'm still a bit unsure about is whethere not not to put in writing here the less than decent stuff that ALSO goes through my head. Despite appearances, I'm actually much 'naughtier' than I really seem, and there are things that I have occasionally felt like sharing here (and in previous blog) but abstained (no pun intended) because of the well... X-rated nature of the subject la.... My mom always said I was a cheeky little boy.. Guess mom's always know their children. But perhaps for now, I'll leave those stuff for another time and another place la... So I guess this one's not really achieved.

4. Do crazy stuff

Does changing your hair style and spectacles count? I'm thinking maybe not. Actually I don't really know what crazy stuff to do. Bungee jump, sky dive? I don't think so. Oh!...There was this one time I drank coffee at 2a.m... does that count? *cheeky grin* :p Guess not too. I think maybe I'm not really looking for crazy stuff to do per se, but rather, I'm just wanting to do things I normally would not do if left to my own devices. It's a adverse reaction of being so comfortable in my own skin and in my own ways all these years.

This resolution #4, along with #1~3, are all probably of the same reason. They all involve change in one way or another. Change the way I feel about myself, change the way I look, change the way and the things I write... and in a way. just change thw way I have been behaving all these years. I guess even from the start of the year, I just knew in my heart that this year had to be a year of changes; for better or for worse.

Yes, Forrest Gump made me cry.....

There I sit, alone, the last to leave the office... ready to call an end to my week day, yet for some reason, choosing to sit here, alone by myself, and just pondering.

In the background, I hear the very song you hear now.. It's the theme song from the movie Forrest Gump. It might just find itself permanently here on my blog, but I haven't decided yet.

(I'm pretty sure I've blog about it before in my past life (a.k.a old blog), so Cat, if you're reading and listening to this, sorry you have to hear the same thing twice!)

I always put it on when I blog... especially when I'm alone.. and feel the need to just think about the in's and out's of my life. It evokes a certain emotion in me.. Kind of like the way the movie did when I first watched it when I was what, around 9 to 10 years old? It made me sad, it made me happy, it made me inspired, it made me hope, and it made me believe. I never imagined that a mere movie could evoke such strong feelings in me. Maybe because the theme of the movie was a lot about hardship, unconditional love, and sufferings, family, and in essence the human spirit and life itself. It really really touched me at some level and since then, I think I must have repeated the movie 2 dozen times. I'm not one to readily admit such things (and I'd have to kill you once I tell you)... but quite many years ago, must have been time number 12 or what of watching it, I actually shed a few tears watching it.

I was home alone... and actually feeling pretty beat up and depressed. I stayed at home, I spoke to no one, and I took no calls. I can't remember why, only that it was one of those low points in your life where nothing seems to have a solution. So I just put the movie on and tried distracting myself.... before you knew it, I was totally engrossed. It was like watching it all over again for the first time. Maybe it was because I was feeling all vulnerable again, and when the final scene finally came, when Forrest Gump talks to his dead wife at her grave, and leaves the unread letter from their son, well.... I pretty much wept like a baby la. Even Titanic couldn't even make me cry.... but there I was sobbing away at a movie I've seen so many times.

To think back on it, I don't think I was really crying at the movie at all. I think I was crying because I needed to. I've never been one to let my guard down easily when it came to my emotions. Through all the incredible pain and hardship, I think I've been so good at keeping my emotions in check that I sometimes don't realize the importance of experiencing your emotions. Some people are a constant emotional wreck, unable to control how they feel, I think at the time, I was the total opposite. And truth be told, maybe at some level, I wanted to cry, and needed to cry... I just didn't know how to. I would have gone crazy or turned amok with rage and start loosing it if I had not found an outlet to just weep, mourn and feel sorry for myself for a while. Of course, my ego certainly did not allow me to cry in front of anyone, not even those closest and dearest to me. It would not have been the first time I sat in a corner and cried to myself.. but it was definitely the first time I did it while watching a movie....

So ya, I'll leave it at that for now. I end with a quote from the one and only movie scene that has ever made this grown man cry like a baby. Have a good weekend!

---

Forrest Gump: You died on a Saturday morning. And I had you placed here under our tree. And I had that house of your father's bulldozed to the ground. Momma always said dyin' was a part of life. I sure wish it wasn't. Little Forrest, he's doing just fine. About to start school again soon. I make his breakfast, lunch, and dinner every day. I make sure he combs his hair and brushes his teeth every day. Teaching him how to play ping-pong. He's really good. We fish a lot. And every night, we read a book. He's so smart, Jenny. You'd be so proud of him. I am. He, uh, wrote a letter, and he says I can't read it. I'm not supposed to, so I'll just leave it here for you. Jenny, I don't know if Momma was right or if, if it's Lieutenant Dan. I don't know if we each have a destiny, or if we're all just floating around accidental-like on a breeze, but I, I think maybe it's both. Maybe both is happening at the same time. I miss you, Jenny. If there's anything you need, I won't be far away.

Internet censorship in M'sia....WTF?

Here's the shocking little news I read today:

Malaysia considering China style internet censorship

WHAT THE HELL?

Controlling 'bad elements'? I know Singapore monitors their citizens blogging a lot and ban a lot of porn websites... and China has this Great Firewall of China or something that blocks all the 'evil western influence'....

But I'd never expect this kind of problem to start hitting Malaysia. I mean... WTF?! Next thing you know, I can't even access my blogger account anymore just like when I was in China 2 months ago.

No doubt the government wants to block these rogue bloggers who are like super anti the establishment... Perhaps its not unfair for the government to keep these rogue bloggers under control.. but as for the rest of us normal bloggers here in Malaysia, ranting on about which store has the best char koay teow and why we think nasi lemak should be our national dish.. the idea that our internet be censored just irks us out...

I wonder what our good all Dr. M will say about this (if any at all)... go check out his blog. btw.. Dr. M must be like the coolest ex-PM our country has had so far.. what with a blog of his own and all... I can't forsee Pak Lah having such widely followed blog.. it's probably be filled with zZzz's!! :p

I'm a song repeater....

You know how some songs just seem to carry you through your moods throughout the week?

I'm guilty of being a song repeater. When I'm in the mood, I listen to the same song over and over and over and over again.. To work, back from work, to dinner, everywhere until the song is so engraved in my head I practically know it by heart. This of course annoys the hell out of people who regularly sit in my car with me....

But hey, it's MY CAR.. you listen to what I listen la... Haha.. But I'm too nice.. what I usually do is tune it down or try to put the radio or something general on that everyone can listen to.

I'm also kind of old fashion and weird when it comes to music taste. I listen to American Pie and Vincent by Don McLean, Tommy Emmanuel on the guitar and Burt Bacharach singing Rain drops keep falling on my head... In the mornings (like today), when I'm feeling a bit upbeat, I put on Let There Be Love by Michael Buble. I listen to The Best of Audiophile Voices I, with Jane Monheit crooning the best ever version of Somewhere over the Rainbow. Other times, I put on some techno music, blast the speakers and act every inch the silly ah bengs on the roads with their loud tasteless music. Occasionally, when I'm feeling all down and blue, I listen to "Don't cry Joni' by Conway Twitty... (Probably one of the saddest love songs around)

I tend to pick songs from yesteryears more than current songs. I suppose to me, there's a certain artistic quality about songs of the past that seem to be lacking in todays songs... that quality is.. substance. Not many songs will become evergreen... and as much as I find Poker Face by Lady Gaga catchy... I don't think anyone will still be listening to it 20 years from now.

ANYWAY, just to share with you the mood I'm in today... feeling snappy and lighhearted today.. I'll post this song for your easy listening. It's the original Nat King Cole version. I'd prefered the Michael Buble version, but couldn't find it online but I guess this is close enough..I have it in my PC though... Enjoy! What's your favourite 'theme song' for your day?

When blood runs deeper than water

I suddenly remembered something.

I never told my mother the truth. In fact, I think she still does not know. Her younger brother was robbed by the street a few years ago. He was just walking in his neighbourhood when he was ambushed by this group of armed bandits. I don't know if he tried to put up a fight, or if these men were just violent... but from what I heard, he almost lost his entire arm after being chopped with a 'parang'... he was hospitalized, and his arm nearly amputated.

At the time we learnt about it, my mother was not doing too well herself. She was in the midst of hospitalization in the psychiatric ward. We were informed by none other than our aunt, her younger sister.

At the time, my brother and I decided that the best thing to do was not to tell her anything about the matter. She was still emotionally unsettled. How would she react if she found out ther brother nearly lost an arm? We didn't know how she felt about her siblings, or if she still felt any love towards them at all.

Personally, I have had absolutely NO RELATIONSHIP with any of my relatives on my mothers side. My mother was raised by her cousins and uncles, while all her younger siblings were raised wtih their step mother and their family. In that sense,my mother was never really close to them in the first place. As a family, the only times we would see my uncle and aunties were during Chinese new year. It didn't seemed like they really cared about us anyway. In our darkest times, when my mother lived alone, when my father left her, when we had no money or a place to live, we were abandoned, and kicked out at one time.

Still, people say blood is thicker than water; family remains family no matter what happens. I felt so sorry when I heard about my uncle. Its not something I would wish for anyone in this world, even people I hated. What more a person related to me by blood.

We did talked a few times about her sibling, but I conveniently side stepped the issue and talked about other things. Part of me felt that it would be a bit of a cruel blow to her, part of me felt that they didn't deserve the kind of concern she would probably have for them. They were all missing in our darkest times, they all no where to be seen even as my mother lived for 7 years alone.. and they lived just a nearby or at the most an hours drive away. What kind of siblings were these? The kind no worth having that's what.

Maybe its wrong of me.. Maybe its not really my place to decide what to tell and what to hide from people who are my elder. I don't know. Since she's a bit more settled and stable now.... maybe its about time I break the news to her.

Coming Home....

Maybe I was just curious, maybe I just had to know, or maybe I just needed closure.

Whatever the reason, I found myself driving alone toward my old home. I had gone back to my old home town a second time in one month, on work matters. This second time around, I travel alone. I was about to drive straight home to KL, but something was tugging at me. I just had to see that house I used to live in again. I couldn't make up my mind. Should I just let the past remain the past, or should I try going down memory lane one last time?

The wounds had healed, and I felt as if I had moved on. It was time to face the ghosts of my past. I took the drive and I decided to use the old route my school bus used to take. I still remembered it by heart. The route to home was through an industrial park; first building that passed was the old place my father used to work when we moved up north. The Japanese company was still there, but the building looked much older than I remembered; 20 years had passed since then. Opposite of it used to be another factory called 'Baxter'. My brother and I liked the name so much, that when we got our first dog, we name him 'Baxter'... Further down the road was a timber saw mill. In later years when my mother lived alone, she told me she took up a job there for a few months. It paid lousily.. and the work was literally back breaking.. but she did it anyway to earn a living. My heart ached as she told me how she would have to carry heavy pieces of wooden plank from one end to another. The factory burnt down some years later but as I passed it by, a new owner had started rebuilding the structure.

There was a football field where my brother and I used to go watch the bigger boys play football. There was still a lot of cows around. Many of the old grocery shops that were there were now gone. Either that or they made new signboards, because I couldn't recognize most of them, except a few coffee shops. There were 2 to 3 regular coffee shops that my mother would frequent. She helped out in some of the hawkers stores and they paid her by giving her lunch. She would hang around and chat with the retired old uncles. They would give her RM10 here and there... and that was how she survive. For a person that neither worked full time, nor had a single cent from my father for so many years, I respected that my mother managed to pull through like that.

Just before turning into the my house row, there used to be a bus stop. My brother and I would wait impatiently for the bus to come. I used to like climbing up the side of the steel frame while waiting. It was at this bus stop that our dog Baxter tried to follow us up the bus when we were going to visit relatives in Kulim. The bus driver refused to let us bring the dog, and as the bus sped off, I could see Baxter chasing after us from behind. During my school holidays, this was the bus stop that I would wait at to go home, after a month of staying with my mother. Goodbyes were always difficult for me, and I would always turn back and look at the corner of the street, half terrified and half hoping to see my mother come around asking me not to leave. Terrified because I knew that if she did come crying and asking me to stay, I would have to say no and run off, showing a cold face. Hoping because deep in my heart, despite not daring to make that decision, I wanted to stay too, to be by her side and take care of her. Nothing ached my heart more than knowing I left her to fend for herself, alone and defenseless, mentally ill. In many ways, I still live with that guilt conscience. That bus stop was now gone. Demolished. I guess the bus doesn't come through here anymore. The old pond and swamp area behind our neighbourhood was also gone, replaced with new houses and development projects. The whole placed seemed strangely familiar yet foreign.

Going downhill, it was just one turn away from our street. I fell on this hill once from my bicycle, with my mother sitting right at the back. We were out to pasar malam, and my brother and i both convinced her that it would be faster to take our 2 bikes. My brother rode one while I carried my mother on the other. We would always like sliding down the hill without pressing the breaks. It was cool, and the breeze in your face was fun; we did it all the time. My mother was nervous, and ask me to slow down "Don't worry ma." I said to her... and as I negotiated the corner and finally hit the breaks at the last moment, the cable snapped. I lost control, and both my mother and I fell to the ground. We were slightly bruised.. but otherwise OK. She gave me a scolding, and for some reason, I still remember it till today.

Finally, I arrived at our street, and at our house. I had to pass it twice just to fully take it all in. Many of the neighbours were still the same, but everyone's house seemed a bit more lavish. The street was also a lot smaller than I remembered. The tree in front of the house I used to climb on while waiting for my father to come home was long gone. The house looked unchanged and untouched. The pink doors were still the same, the gate and the grill were not changed. Even the gold numbers '248' for the house number was still there, exactly the way I remembered it. Nothing much had changed. The house looked empty; no one was home. But the place was neat. The front porch look the same; Baxter used to be tied to the right corner.

My brother and I sat out here once for 2 hours one holiday waiting for my mother to come back. She didn't know we were coming at all.

I used to enjoy lying flat on the cement floor watching the stars and the moon above; I always wanted a telescope to watch the stars, but we could never afford one. But lying there at night was just as good.

One holiday, my mother stripped herself naked in tears, turned on the tap and started washing herself on this porch, as my father led my brother and I away. She had hoped my father would turn around and take her in. To her disappointment, he never did.

My brother was handcuffed and arrested on a Saturday morning when I was 12. My mother had made a police report that my brother physically assaulted her and hit her. All the neighbours watched as I followed my brother into the police truck. The police eventually let him go when they realized it wasn't true...I don't know if my brother has forgiven her for that.

This was it. More than this town, more than this neighbourhood, this house I called home was where it all happened. I dared not linger longer than a few moments. I didn't want the neighbours to notice me. I don't know how to explain the emotions that run through me as I looked at the house. I've never ever felt anything so complex. It's not that I don't know how I feel about this place anymore. Its that I don't know how to put in words exactly how I feel. Of nostalgia, of disbelief, of reminiscence, bitterness, pride, sorrow, sprinkled with moments of happiness, joy and contentment. It really has been a while since I last came here, and a long long while since I last felt completely helpless and in the mercy of others. Coming back here reminds me of being a child; when the world seemed so big and scary, and problems were always so big and complicated, and as the children, there was never ever anything we could do to help ourselves. We were always at the receiving end of whatever life fated us.

I drove off after the second passing, and headed straight back to KL... The past is the past, and I have today and tomorrow to live for. The traumas of yesterday were painful, but only God knows what tomorrow will bring; things may be better, or worse. Maybe I just felt the need to be reminded of my past, not mentally but emotionally. To recall the feelings and emotions that I went through. Going back and walking down memory lane evokes my emotions in a way nothing else can, feelings I had as a child; it reminds me of who I am, where I'm from, and keeps me grounded. If I could go through life like that as a child, I'm confident God will give me the strength to face whatever I will face in the future.