Monthly Archive

Pic courtesy of TV Smith.

 There was a bunch that turned up at Blog House in Damansara Heights last night. Bunch of idealistic people. An there I thought that Malaysians are too apathetic to examine an idea.

Much of what happened there you can read at Rocky’s, Mage P’s Lab or Jalan Sudin so I will not elaborate. This was Harris’ brainchild.

Yeah, he is a double whammy of a surprise. A lawyer with a conscience and one who hasn’t lost his ideals after all these years. Kudos to this guy. Furthermore, unlike most lawyers who blab (they’re eloquent after all) n blab, this guy actually puts him money where his mouth his and gets to work. Makes me feel guilty about sitting on my ass.

Nah, Bangsa Malaysia is not, to my understanding, about a homogeneous racial entity that you get after years of inter-marrying among the races in Malaysia. Rather, its that collective consciousness of Malaysian-ness.

You know, when you step outside the country and you are asked what you are, you don’t hesitate at all to say “Malaysian”. Now, ask the same this of a local in Malaysia, and he’d say anything from Indian, Bugis, Minang, Kadazan, Cantonese, Dayak, Kelabit, Ceylonese.

Of course local Indians are terribly divisive. Taking after the class distinctions of many centuries. After all Apartheid was conceived in India right?

Here in Malaysia, when we are filling forms, in the race column, most of my brethren would put Indian. But there are those who would take pains to set everyone straight about their ancestry.

Here are some of the refrains that make me wish to “Avra Kedavra” these assholes.

“Ah, we Ceylonese always consider ourselves one up over the rest of the Tamils. We are very strict about our religious rituals you see.” (Same bunch also secretly route funds to the LTTE)

“I’m a South Indian Brahmin. We are Iyers. We are pure vegetarians so we can’t eat at most places”

“Maybe you don’t know this, but the Aryans who came down to the southern parts of India only set roots in Kerala. That’s why we Malayalees are fair.”

“We are Tamils, but we are not like the rest; We are Chettiars (oh…this goes on with other permutations like Mudaliars, Kaunders, Thevars)

Bloody fools…wake up…now you see why local Indians can’t prosper as a community?

In the eyes of many Malaysians (though they may be too polite to say it out loud) you are all just KELINGS.

At the end of the day, you must feel your belonging. Claim Malaysia as a Malaysian. You and I have a place here. Never mind the discrimination, it is the system, not the people.

And if last night was a microcosm of Malaysian thought, yeah, there is hope yet for a more tolerant society, for a real Bangsa Malaysia.

The hype and hoopla in the run up to the 50th anniversary of our independence is all over the place. TV, radio, newspapers, online media and private blogs.

I have refrained thus far from giving my take, simply because my love for this country has never and will never hinge on what my peers say.

This country is very close to my heart. Something I can’t divorce myself from even if one day I leave this country in search of fortune and knowledge.

My heart is here. My soul is Malaysian. Tanah tumpah darah means something deep to me. Loving your country means loving it warts and all.

My Malaysia is flawed is some ways. Lots of opportunistic vermin are bleeding it dry. Read Aisehman for some disgusting details. The guy has a knack for putting things in perspective.

My Malaysia is where people dig up the same stretch of the road at least three times a year, for different reasons. The people in governance is shortsighted and lackadaisical. Can’t see even a year down the line. No planning.

My Malaysian government can deny oil rights that is supposed to be for the state of Terengganu, and disguise it later as Wang Ehsan. Politics first, screw the people of Terengganu, who hail from a state that gives the federal coffers half of its petroleum revenue.

My Malaysian judges can get away with not writing judgments. Pretty unheard of globally, but here Malaysia Boleh.

My Malaysia is where a lovers’ dispute can turn into an international diplomatic incident. Here is where our guys in uniform can be ordered to kill a defenseless civilian AND blow her up.

My Malaysia is where the government announce three mega ambitious infrastructure projects in 10 days, and in the next month, proceed to give a US1 billion dollar soft loan package to bail out the Port Klang FTZ. One billion dollars, and that’s called a soft loan.

My Malaysia is where enforcement is lax enough that dozens of people have to die in three consecutive bus accidents in three weeks before JPJ and the police get off their collective ass and take some semblance of work.

My Malaysia?….I know things can be worse else where…but I wish things could be better in here. This is where I hope to die someday.

 UPDATE

God has promised an interesting Hurricane season this year. Hold on to your seats and read on.

——————————————————–

Reading of climate and weather reports lately, I surmised that hell would come in the form of high water. Don’t believe me? Well, check this out. The Atlantic Hurricane season has started in earnest, and let’s watch the mayhem shall we?

 That’s Hurricane Dean, a category 5 superstorm that ravaged Jamaica on August 20 and then rampaged through the Carribeans to now lash the Mexican coast.

.  Reuterspic

This was a scene in Kingston, Jamaica after Hurricane Dean left.

Ok. Let’s come closer to our part of the world. Here’s what’s happening/happened in the Pacific.

 This is Ikan Sepat (Spotted Gouramy). Malaysians like to eat it as salted fish.

 This, dear readers is Typhoon Sepat that menaced the Phillipines, Taiwan and China up to last week. It also let loose a tornado and killed 36 people in China.

In the United States, rain and thunderstorms over the past few days have swollen rivers in several Midwest states resulting in a flood. Eight people have died so far, according to Reuters.

 That’s just three examples. There’s a report here that links man-induced global warming to the increase in Tropical storms. Read this overview on global warming and places around the world that are at risk due to rising tides.

And what does all this matter to us in Malaysia? We are often shielded from the worst ravages of storms. But we do have floods. I’m not talking about the flash floods of Kuala Lumpur and the other major towns. That’s a drainage problem that those imbeciles in authority don’t have the will to correct.

I’m talking about the floods that devastated Johor last year. We could get a repeat, you know. Are we ready?

Or are we readying ourselves to MATI KATAK?

Late 2006, the inner nag in me was at her loudest….saying things like, “u gonna be like this all ur life?” “show some guts woman, move from the comfort zone”…..you know, shit like that.

2007 brought the drive, and a friend cum benefactor provided the means. So I went back to school. Copywriting school, to be exact. I thought I would learn something without trying too hard….(I mentally slap myself still, at this presumption).

That was January 2007. When I met the intimidating trio of Janet, Peter and Shahnaz of 95% Trainings. And my seven classmates. All on board? The journey began.

First, shedding of all pre-conceived notions, prejudices, ego, self preservation. The last was the hardest. After all, self-protectiveness is an instinct that keeps us alive. But I surrendered that too. Not that I had a choice.

We learnt. We experienced. We shared. We cried. We laughed…at each other and ourselves. We put our pride on the line. We were often cut down to bits. There was a point when I thought Copywriters in Progress was a misnomer. Often it seemed like Mass Slaughter in Progress….with pride, spirit, face strewn all over the classroom, usually on the floor or splat! on the wall. You don’t believe me? Go to the innocuous-looking  95% Trainings armed with Luminol. The flourescent effect you see would be our collective blood.

There was a lot of pain. Lots of hard work facilitating creation. Sometimes the thought of going to class will be accompanied by a sudden plunge in the happiness index. There were times I even welcomed certain engagements that meant missing class. (They were unavoidable alright, but the fact is that I welcomed them with secret glee, I must confess).

 There were however, a great many days when class meant enlightenment, an enthralling exercise in discovery and a fun-filled evening. The guys; Faisal, Farid Aaron and Ijam, provided most of the laughter fodder.

The late bloomer in me took forever to arrive at generating ideas. Regular humiliation of bland (read boring!) ideas drove me to almost quit. I wasn’t equipped to handle the repeated rejection, the lukewarm response to the ad ideas, the thrashing I get whenever I take to the floor. Add to that, stage fright.

Anyway, I persevered for two reasons. Firstly, I owe it to my friend and benefactor. Secondly, I needed the satisfaction of showing a spirit-killer person in my life that I’m capable of finishing what I started.

The last two months has brought out the best and the unexpected in all of us. I had an epiphanic moment when I reclaimed control of my spirit. From then on, there was no looking back. Writing good stuff wasn’t any easier, but it was possible because the clouds lifted from my personal horizon. And the satisfaction of evoking a reaction in my tough classmates was…well, priceless.

I choose this moment to salute my fellows. Ellie, Hex, Victoria, Aaron, Ijam, Farid and Faisal…it has been a wonderful ride and I thank you all for the tremendous support and invaluable feedback.

To Shahnaz…thanks for the brutal honesty. To Peter, thanks for the thought-inducing provocation. To Raz, thanks for the core idea. To Janet, thanks for the love, understanding, inspiration and the wings you gave us to fly.

Tomorrow, our work will be judged in class for the final time. Whatever the outcome, I am a winner already in my mind. So are all of you, my fellow inaugural batch of battle-scarred copy hacks! Let’s take to the skies.

Well, it does apparently, in some long-winded way. So I found out today over my Sunday breakfast with a copy of The Star. Read this thought-provoking piece by A.Asohan, an individual I had the good fortune of having had some chats with, and much admire still.

 The good in hurting talks about how one needs pain, anxiety and the whole works (perhaps) in order to function as one’s self. He quotes Nietzsche as saying, “One must still have chaos in oneself to be able to give birth to a dancing star”

Makes a lot of sense to me. I often do my most impassioned work when besieged by profound feelings, of sadness, grief, anger, disillusionment, love. Not that I’m some great author on the cusp of Salman Rushdie-like works of divine beauty. Still, I work in an area where creative output is a pre-requisite.

The creative juices however, is not something that you pay subscription for and have it piped in to your tap, like that Shah of Blah in Haroun and the Sea of Stories. How I wish it was though. Every single original thought in my head has, unfortunately, come inadvertently. Fleshing it out is one hell of a bleeder. And each time that I finish, there is this drained feeling, like when I just get off the Stairmaster at the gym, but minus the feel-good shot of endorphins.

I agree that the pain and suffering makes us, well, us. Take that away and I might feel like I’ve lost something. Just imagine 10 years of your memory is totally wiped out….like something out of Michel Gondry’s  Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.

Painful as a lot of my past has been, there were still profound moments of joy, of love, of learning and realisation that I will not trade them even for ownership of a library the size of The White House (and that thought I consider the height of enticement).

There’s a guy I know who said once, “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. I’m used to taking pain.” Now that I think of it, I believe that he not only thrives on pain and hardship, but if you take that away from him, he might seem less a man in his own estimation.

Now, I know what happens when a person of standards falls in his own estimation. Not a nice thought…that.

The winds of election blows, for now it is still sepoi sepoi bahasa. Some friends say lepas Raya. That’d be October, unlikely. Others say December. Tengkujuh laa…think of those people in the East Coast. Yet others go on to say Jan, Feb, or March 2008. I think it is the latter two months, possibly after Chinese New Year.

However, sooner or later, you (yes you, you and you with the spectacles, I see you) and I will have to exercise our democratic right to vote. I hope you have taken care of that little technicality called voter registration. If you haven’t, you probably shouldn’t be reading about us bloggers bitching about the sorry state of affairs in the soon-to-be 50 year-old Malaysia.

This will be the fourth General Election in which I will vote. I registered in my hometown of J, in some remote corner of Negri Sembilan. I still vote there. It’s an excuse to balik kampung and meet my people. I’m sentimental about things like this. For three past elections, I was working on polling day but I woke up early and drove for two and a half hours just to cast my vote. I hope to do the same this coming election.

It seems that Jeff Ooi, who announced his entry into the Democratic Action Party (DAP), and tech-whiz Tony Pua who is already a member, may be running in the next elections. I will not talk too much about how these two will fare in the DAP which has demonstrated dynastic politics very much like Umno, or if these earnest men will get frustrated in the long run.

If they do get elected, hey! That will be two bloggers in Parliament. Is that cool or is that cool? : )

I applaud their enthusiasm, guts and the publicly-declared desire for a more equitable Malaysia. If DAP goes on this way, it may pave the way for more (hopefully idealistic) young men and women to come into politics. There is increasing indication that Malaysians are not bodoh and that they demand more. But whether the present electorate can change things, well, I’m not optimistic. Read Mat Salo’s take on why i’m not.

But then, some wise guy said, the journey of a thousand miles starts with the first step. We all have to start somewhere. Jeff has a personal manifesto. Go check it out, if you haven’t already.

At the rate the Netizens are making news in Malaysia, maybe there should be a Net constituency, as was said by Aisehman and some commenter in his blog.

Whatever said and done, it is time to choose. So think hard people. For Malaysia to be prosperous and competitive, we need to weed out graft (starting with the people who practice them), follow HRH Raja Nazrin’s words on rejecting people with shady past from taking public office.

Weed out mediocrity. Of course wherever there is a large civil service, there is bound to be mediocrity (unless you pay top dollar like Singapore). However, to weed out mediocrity, graft, abuse of power and money politics, well you can start with changing your elected representatives.

Yeah, this means kicking out the close-one-eye politicians (wake up, people of Jasin), those whose mouths always bocor, resulting in verbal diarhoea that usually raises a stink. (I’m calling out to the people of Kinabatangan here).

What about those who talk for talk’s sake, bullying other MPs. Lemme see, Seri Gading, Jerai…that Padang Rengas kapakman for the ruling party who loves to say things like bloody racist!bodoh bodoh bodoh bodoh bodoh.

While you are at it, maybe you should get rid of the likes of Taiping who sensationalises a lotta stuff to stay relevant and of course, long long overdue, Sungai Siput. Though I must say, in his case, he has done some work, despite the public’s fondness in making him a laughingstock. Time to go, and rescue that son of yours Uncle!

Bodohness. This word is a quintessentially Malaysian mix of English that means Stupid. The word doesn’t exist on its own though, except in my own Lexicon of Spoken Manglish.

Now who said one has to revile stupidity? I say we celebrate it, in a grand style, just like we Malaysians celebrate everything else. We reward mediocrity, we hail our defeats, we pass the buck, we sit down and do nothing when TPTB takes away our rights and privileges, we sit down and do nothing when our brethren is persecuted.

We conveniently become bodoh when an enlightened prince states that people with shady past should not be allowed to take office.

We prefer to have a band of shady men and women in important places in the government and when they retire, reward these various shades of greed and notoriety with company directorships for their “loyal” service.

The Raja Muda of Perak, whom I would be more than glad to have as a Prime Minister of Malaysia (apparently I’m not alone in thinking this) also made some pertinent observations in The Star. (taken from the same article above)

Raja Nazrin said corruption was mankind’s most deadly social disease as it could undermine good governance, weaken institutional foundations, distort public policies, compromise the rule of law and constrain the economy. 

He said corruption curbed competitiveness to the detriment of economic and social developments, would lead to tremendous misallocation of resources and make cost of doing business to become unacceptably high. 

“Corruption exists because of man’s enduring desire for personal gains. Once corruption becomes widespread, it will no longer seem immoral and unlawful, just business as usual,” he added.  

I digress a little. You know, I had a jolt when I read recently of China punishing its errant officials with death. But I suppose fear is the most effective of motivators, with the exception of love, that is, and little else matters. Conscience doesn’t exist.

The concept of Malu (shame) doesn’t seem to exist among our politicians these days, I must say. A man with a past so gleefully pursues his “righteous” indignation with a blogger, conveniently forgetting that as a black pot, he has no business calling the kettle black.

The Attorney General’s Chambers doesn’t feel it is accountable to the public, and neither does the entire cabinet….or for that matter, the civil service.

Yeah, we bloggers are really pain-in-the-ass, opinionated MFs who cannot keep quiet, keep sniping and bitching. But Cui Bono? As Mr Veera Pandiyan eloquently asked today from his perch Along The Watchtower.

For the benefit of Malaysia laaa kawan. Why? We can’t love our Tanah Tumpah Darah ah?