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It's Raining It's Pouring...

Yawn. KL is pouring again. Someone somewhere must be really sad for it to rain so hard. This time next week, I'll probably see the same dark skies. Four more days to Melbourne.

Yawn. In the meanwhile, there's so much work that's left to be done. So much that I want to puke thinking about it. The feeling usually starts at the pit of my stomach, then it moves up to my head, and down to my eyes. At this point, my vision isn't so bright, and the demon goes one full cycle and lands back in my stomach.

Yawn. Dragging my feet. Should have had coffee with Meesh. I will not let myself get all riled up over petty little things, even though I did feel 'betrayed'. But thanks Beb for the *hugs*.

Yawn. Tomorrow will be better. Meeting Idlan and Sarini, and Bad and Penny. Thursday will be better. Meeting Zarina and the Toasties, while I play Chaperone to the Venue. Friday will be better because I will be bidding goodbye to the 4 Aces who are so 'sad' that I'm leaving them for almost two weeks.

un-Yawn. Jikon is nice today. He's actually free to have coffee with me. (hey, that's rhymes!)

Worth While

It is easy enough to be pleasant,
When life flows by like a song,
But the man worth while is one who will smile,
When everything goes dead wrong.
For the test of the heart is trouble,
And it always comes with the years,
And the smile that is worth the praises of earth,
Is the smile that shines through tears.

It is easy enough to be prudent,
When nothing tempts you to stray,
When without or within no voice of sin
Is luring your soul away;
But it's only a negative virtue
Until it is tried by fire,
And the life that is worth the honor on earth,
Is the one that resists desire.

By the cynic, the sad, the fallen,
Who had no strength for the strife,
The world's highway is cumbered to-day,
They make up the sum of life.
But the virtue that conquers passion,
And the sorrow that hides in a smile,
It is these that are worth the homage on earth
For we find them but once in a while.

Poems of sentiment by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Chicago, IL : W. B. Conkey Company, c1906.

I found this poem when I was 13 and have tried to live by the words. The paper it was written on had grown yellow the last time I saw it, and the ink was blotched in certain places where tears once fell.

Today, I found the need to scour the internet and look for it again.

Poor Little Rich Girl Part III

She came back from Cold Storage with heaps of grocery bags in tow. She arranged them one by one on the kitchen table, carefully setting aside the bottles of detergent on the floor near the sink. She took out the packets of instant food and arranged them in the cupboard below. She mentally went through the week's menu. It would be instant noodles, and varieties of instant noodles unless someone invited them out that week.

She started to put the bread away. Behind the remnants of last week's loaf, she found a packet of instant Chilli mix.

The other shoe had dropped.

She stood there, stunned. Her mind rushed to better days, when the Chilli mix represented all that was gay and wonderful in her life. The Chilli mix was to go with the minced meat still in the freezer, and can of beans still in the cupboard. She wasn't sure if they were still edible, it was so many months when she packed those things away. Life was no longer bright, and she didn't feel like making Chilli anymore. Chilli was something to be shared in a pot, with bread or fries. There was to be no more sharing in her life, her heart was closed.

All she wanted to have from now on was instant noodles, because that was all she could handle.

Previous:
Poor Little Rich Girl - Part II
Poor Little Rich Girl - Part I

Gerammm Nyeaaaa!!!

This is Aeisyah Humaira' at 9 months. We used to babysit her, but now she's with her great-grandmother in Muar for a short while, because her grandparents, who took care of her previously, are planning to go somewhere during the Merdeka weekend. Interesting how such a little bundle can inspire some big thoughts.

I saw her again last weekend. She can do lots of things now, like babble and immitate simple actions (like waving goodbye). She gets hyper quite easily, probably because my father feeds her bread and kaya. Now that she can crawl (quite fast I might add), she insists on roaming, much to our detriment - all that chasing around can get very tiring. One night, I wondered where she was going. As an adult, it is natural for me to insist that she sits right in front of me where I can see her - which is of course, totally opposite of what she wants to do.

So I let her crawl, me trailing closely behind. She went out of the livingroom, towards the study, which is two steps below the level we were at. Instead of pulling her back, I wrapped my arms around her, leaving her enough room to maneuver herself, but shielding her enough just in case she slipped. I wondered if she could figure out how to crawl down the steps.

She put her tiny hands on the lower step, and inched her legs sideways, and one by one, lowered the legs so that she is squarely on the lower step. Then, she lowers her legs again to the next step (the floor), all the while holding her hands steady, and lands in a sitting position.

Amazing what kids can do if you give them the benefit of the doubt...

Timely Reminders

The good thing about running a blog is the random jewels left behind by the cosmos in the form of comments.

'Noname' commented on my post on Misaligned Morality:

As for me, no single human being on this earth deserve to be humiliated in such a cruel way. I just want to share with u all a verse from Quran and a hadiths in shahih Muslim about this..

(Quran 49:12)
O ye who believe! avoid suspicion as much (as possible): for suspicion in some cases is a sin: and spy not on each other, nor speak ill of each other behind their backs. Would any of you like to eat the flesh of his dead brother? Nay, ye would abhor it. But fear Allah: for Allah is Oft-Returning, Most-Merciful.

(from shahih Muslim)
Abu Huraira reported Allah's Apostle (may peace be upon him) as saying: The servant (who conceals) the faults of others in this world, Allah would conceal his faults on the Day of Resurrection.

The first quote is timely for me personally. Had a bad morning. Thank you very much noname, whoever you are...

Secondly, I find that both quotes are somewhat relevant to a thread on Sharizal's blog on Sasha Saidin's wedding. The 'unofficial' pictures of her wedding has been circulating, and again, the comments attached, as well as comments in the blog, has been, in my opinion, self-righteous and judgmental.

It's good to remind ourselves once in a while, that none of us are perfect.

In Search of Happiness

I came home early today as a precautionary measure in view of my poor health of late. Noreen was kind enough to accompany me to buy some take-home beriani, which I consumed while watching the news.

There was nothing spectacularly wonderful or depressing about today. As usual, somewhere in the world, people are fighting, and people are being killed. As I am easily distressed by troubling world affairs, especially in cases where I am sure to suffer from a feeling of helplessness, ignorance is bliss. But after being blockaded from the truth for a couple of days at least, I found myself pulled to the affairs of the day.

Today's headlines:
Bomb blast in UN office in Iraq.
Bomb blast in Jerusalem, grinding Middle-East peace process to a halt.

In view of all these things that happen in the world, my own little meagre existence seems so much more insignificant, my problems even more microscopic. But despite the differences of our circumstances, one thing we all have in common: We live our lives, we look for happiness, and hope that we find it.

Happiness. Pak Adib mentioned in a comment to one of my entries about Journeys:

"In fact, life is a journey.As far as this physical world is concerned,it is indeed very short. Many find a lot of unhappiness because they do not know where they really wanted to go.They do not know what they want. How could we find anything we don't even know what it looks like?An example is happiness( al-sa'adah in Arabic)."

For me, I see happiness as a metaphysical place - not an object, not a set of accomplishments, but a state of mind and spirit. It takes the right combination of circumstances and awareness that allows us to 'see' happiness enough to want to seek it, or at least head in the general vicinity.

Living in a world cluttered with 'noise' of sorts - information charging at us from every possible direction, it is understandable that our generation sees happiness less and less. Some turn to icons that embody what they 'think' happiness should be. Some turn to religion and faith - an inner peace that allows one to be at one with the world and its Maker. And then there are some who shuffle back and forth, following every urge that seems to have a whimper of the existence of this ultimate state.

One bonus for those who believe in the Hereafter - whatever life throws at you now, for as long as you keep the faith and live by what you believe is good, you are at peace with the fact that one day, you will be rewarded. Easier said than done though.

But even then, all this is small comfort when it takes all the energy you have to wake up and face the next day.

Side note:
1. When I have difficult questions, one of the things I look to for visual jump points for my thoughts.
2. "How Life Really Works: Happiness in an Unhappy World" - One man's search.

Quote I Can't Get Out of My Head

"Talking about love, is like dancing about architecture."

A quote uttered by the most fabulous Angelina Jolie, from my most favourite non-Audrey Hepburn movie, Playing by Heart (circa 1998).

Najah Does a Jikon II

Najah Nasseri is deeply sensual. Her senses of touch, smell and sight are highly refined. And as for her taste? It's impeccable. Najah is extremely discriminating - when she sees the best, she won't ever settle for anything less. She would rather 'go without' than go for a poor substitute. But then that's Najah all over.

It really isn't fair to call her 'stubborn as a mule.' Mules are adaptable, easy going creatures who are always eager to please - or at least, they are by comparison to Najah Nasseri. Unfortunately, for a person with such expensive preferences Najah is not a millionaire ...or at least, not yet. You never know, it may just happen because Najah's relationship with money is very interesting. She treats it with a curious mixture of disdain and respect. She never lets it stand in her way, yet she will go out of her way to get it when she needs to. Najah is a smart cookie and a shrewd operator. It is not though, merely in the field of finance that Najah Nasseri displays intuitive wisdom.

Najah has an affinity with nature. She can make almost any plant flower and bear fruit. This is just as well because Najah has a hearty appetite. She likes her food as indeed she likes all her creature comforts. Fond though she is of all the above - and of all life's little luxuries - there is one more source of endless fascination that Najah cannot resist.

Najah doesn't so much have a hearty appetite for sensual pleasure as a ravenous hunger for it! Which is funny really because you wouldn't necessarily think it to look at her. Najah likes to play it cool. Najah likes to pretend that nothing bothers her, fazes her or excites her. Like all Taureans though, Najah Nasseri is a powerhouse of passion, as those who are lucky enough to know her - or to love her - will breathlessly testify.

[Find out about yourself here. Trust Jikon to point me to these things...]

The ISA: Here to Stay?

With the change in guard looming in October, there are great hopes that some things will change, and that some things don't. I, for one, am hoping that the issues surrounding the ISA would be high on Pak Lah's agenda as things to strike out of the national modus operandi.

High on the priority of today's news: The ISA may be used against rice smugglers, if the police deems that the smuggling constitutes national sabotage.

I'm not defending the unscrupulous opportunists who ferry Thai rice across the borders, much to the detriment of our local rice industry, but isn't there a more appropriate law that can be applied? Will we allow our legislative system to be complacent and use the ISA as a cure-all to bad government?

In the same paper today, the ISA has been applied to wife of suspected terrorist, Hambali.

We're on a roll here, aren't we?

Related:
1. The ISA in summary
2. Amnesty International on the ISA
3. From my archives: Human Rights and Human Wrongs

What Would YOU Do For Love?

After being thoroughly appalled at the extremes some would go to for lust, I wondered, how far would one go for love?

It's funny that once in love, those things that we think of as unthinkable when we're not head over heels suddenly become possible, as well as plausible. Going back to the secret rituals of traditional Malay society, there are many examples of what people will do for love.

One shouldn't be surprised that urban and educated Malay men today still trade phone numbers of bomohs who have been successful in facilitating the smooth progression of their marriages - mostly through amulets or chants that seems to allow them to exert control over their wives - a practice known as menundukkan isteri.

Womenfolk are not that helpless - the use of Nasi Kangkang, the practice of tainting rice cooked for the husband by squatting over it (plus some other stuff of course), in hopes of controlling him, and curbing any potential extra-curricular activities, have become a popular 'just in case' story among close circle of friends.

[Interesting to note that Nasi Kangkang shows up as a Nyonya practice.]

I have heard stories of people whose affections are so coveted that their homes are riddled with inexplicable blood marks on their walls, that things are planted in their homes, that spirits are sent to torment them, in hopes that they yield their ever-so unwilling hearts.

Without going into the halal and haram of it all, the question that needs to be asked is: Isn't love a two-way street? Why should one's heart be forced to go somewhere it doesn't want to?

Cinta Siti

Upon reading Harian Metro over the weekend, I found myself surprised at the extent in which the Malay community is obsessed with the paranormal and superstitious. The one that takes the cake: a full feature on 'perbomohan' or Malay traditional medicine, focusing on how to make your spouse, specifically the wife, look like a pop star, specifically Siti Nurhaliza.

The article outlined the criteria a discerning customer of the bomoh should look for, in order to keep his faith - as there are bomohs out there that cross the boundaries between what is allowed in Islam and what is not. The elements in what is disallowed closely resembles ancient animism/Hindu practices, which has been entrenched in Malay folklore and cultural practices, and has been debated in the past couple of years in reference to the movement to adopt a more purist Islam into the community.

Methods aside - WHAT WERE THEY THINKING???

All these people, men especially, who made the conscious choice to marry, also made the equally conscious choice to seek supernatural assistance to blur his eyes to the woman before him in order to fulfil some fantasy. It's one thing to have a powerful imagination - what disturbs me is the lengths in which they are willing to go to.

As the saying goes: Kalau hendak, seribu daya. Kalau tak hendak, seribu dalih.

Tea Pots and Lamb Chops

I'm a little teapot, short and stout.
This is my handle, this is my spout.

My sister, Najwa, was singing this throughout dinner. Dinner was at Teapot Cafe in PJ. It was a last minute alternative to TGIF - I was hungry and after looking at the usual Friday night traffic jam at SS2, I did not want to have a late dinner.

Tea Pot Cafe is a quaint little restaurant that smells like our kitchen in the States. It serves Western and the usual Hawker stall favourites. It gets its name from the collection of teapots that adorn the walls - my favourite was one shaped like a table (complete with tablecloth) - with a tea pot on top.

The cafe is popular for its afternoon tea selection - scones, chicken pies, and eclairs (filled with fresh cream) are the perfect accompaniments to a wide variety of teas - Rose Petal and Strawberry caught my eye, but with the long list of teas on offer, I haven't had the chance to try them all.

Azrol ordered the Lamb Chops with Minty Pesto, Rizal had the Fish Milanese, Najwa had the Rosemary Chicken and I had the Chicken Kiev. Sorry, we were so hungry, we forgot to take pictures.

Our review: Yummy. Even the chips that accompanied each dish. We concluded dinner with chocolate cake and creme caramel, which was average. Too bad they ran out of eclairs.

Recommended for another day: Cauliflower Cheese Bake.

Update:

Thanks to Jemi for the address:

The Teapot Cafe
169 Jalan SS 2/24, 47300 Petaling Jaya
Tel. 03-7875 0550

Breezy KL Afternoon

The most vivid memories I have of any place is its scent, and the way the air feels on my skin. I rarely remember details - names of places escape my mind, although addresses and phone numbers have an annoying knack of sticking in my head for much longer than I need them for.

I went to Mecca when I was 5 or 6 with my parents. All I could remember was the smell of the air, which I encountered once on a hot (40 degrees) Melbourne summer day. The dryness of the air, combined with the feeling of the sun toasting your skin brought me back to the Holy Land.

This afternoon, as I was waiting for a cab home (I got an MC today, on the verge of a bad flu), I felt the breeze brush against my cheek. The sun was shining politely and as it didn't cause my eyes to squint, it almost felt like a cool spring day.

I miss spring in Philadelphia, autumn in Melbourne, and most of all, the torrential rains of Terengganu - there's nothing like the exhilirating feeling of watching a storm come towards you from the ocean, and watching the coconut trees lie back in awe.

Udang Masak Kicap

Recipe:
Sautee diced onions
Add fresh red chillies
Add sweet soya sauce
Add tiger prawns.

Result:
Yummmmmmm...

[update]: Add a splash of Maggi Tomato Sauce for a tangy taste.

Poor Little Rich Girl - Part II

She was standing in a crowded market, looking around for a bargain. Out of the corner of her eye, past the bustling bodies haggling over the price of turnips, she saw a little child lying down on a metallic plate.

The plate looked hot, but the child looked fine, as if in therapy of some sort. Fascinated by what it could be, she continued to watch. As smoke began to waft past her, she noticed that the child's back had begun to char.

The child did not move.

She looked for other signs, but all the immobilised child did was look back. She wanted to walk away, she thought the child was dead. But a little voice inside her told her to pick it up. And so she did.

She took the child into her arms and sang to it. She couldn't remember what she sang, but she held the child tight. Slowly, the child stirred and broke into a smile.

[update] - Antidote.

Previous:
Poor Little Rich Girl - Part I

Notice

To All Melbournian Buddies:

I will be in Melbourne in the first week of September.

Plan to:

Shop, eat and visit old friends. If you are an old friend, you know how to contact me. I will be on roaming.

Please clear your calendars. Alternatively, you may catch me roaming about our alma mater to catch a glimpse of my past, or mourning over closed down haunts.

p.s. The 'other' visit will have to wait... hmmph!

Urgh!

*knocks head on desk*

Why does everything have to be so hard?!!!

Of Nice Things and Simple Pleasures

As I roamed about Suria KLCC with my friend Noreen, she asked me a question: When did my taste get so expensive?

I've never really been one to cut corners on what makes me happy. Even as a student, I would rather not have something than have something that didn't meet my requirements - and my requirements were not just functional, it had to be aesthetically pleasing too. So in third year, after working part time, I bought myself my first keepsake watch - a Tissot. This watch I promise to my first daughter to be used on her first day at university.

After a while, as I started seeing the world and all its distractions, my benchmark as to what is aesthetically pleasing has gone up quite a bit. No, I'm not obsessed over branded goods, but I wouldn't discount its beauty. Of course, I don't own anything of note - yet.

In the past couple of years, my obsession with gadgets has reached disturbing proportions. My most indulgent moment was standing on my chair at work and auctioning off my Palm Vx - lock stock and barrel, and then running off to buy an iPaq.

Thousands of ringgit has been spent to this end, and what do I get? Short-lived gratification at tinkering. I could have gone to India with Victoria, I could have done my masters, I could have gone to a lot more plays, I could have paid for my brother's degree in fact...

All that is now in the past. My hard-earned money will first be used to indulge myself in little adventures - the kind that reminds me of what I wanted to be when I was 5. Perhaps by seeing the world, I learn to see what's inside of me.

Preparing for A Journey

We all need time off from life once in a while. Unfortunately, there is no pause button we can press to suspend animation and drift off into that 'other' state, unless we take a vacation.

Interesting that the word is derived from 'vacate' - essentially, we are vacating our lives to temporarily to live another.

If the planets 'misalign' themselves properly, circumstances may allow me to take a 'forced' vacation. Location to be revealed soon. Suffice to say, it's almost a 'Najah Does Lara Croft' of sorts. I have a shopping list which is starting to look like a survival kit - with the exception of a burkha (anyone know where I can get one?). Crossing my fingers...

Misaligned Morality?

Despite my public enough protests, I am still inundated with unwanted emails from well-meaning friends. Ah well... perhaps this is just their way of telling me that they're alive - a 'ping' of sorts...

The past two days, however, I have been quite preoccupied with one particular email which contained a MSWord attachment. I opened it thinking it was a joke (the email was entitled "Terlampau di {apartment building name excluded}"). The document contained snapshots of a couple getting 'hot and bothered' at the bottom of a staircase. Don't bother asking me to forward it, I immediately deleted it (this person inconsiderately forwarded this huge file to my office email address.. hmmph!).

Yes, we have all been forwarded emails on the sexual exploits of our youths, allegedly in the Shah Alam parks, KLCC and now, an apartment building. What was unusual about this email was that the conclusion of this 'photo essay' included at least 3 frames of the couple realising that they had an audience, and the look of shame on their faces.

What bothered me wasn't so much the couple (although I know of heaps of people who would have a lot to say about a tudung clad girl in a baju kurung getting it on with a very young looking guy). What bothered me was the connotations that was attached to emails like this: preachy in a 'lesson-to-be-learned-here-and-that's-why-I-forwarded-this' sort of way.

What intention did the cameraman have by sitting through the whole 'dirty deed' and then taking the trouble to circulate it via email? By this logic, we can perhaps assume that the cameraman is some sicko voyeur who forwarded these files to friends for kicks.

Which leads me to the forwarders. Some of these people are 'good' people, with 'good' intentions. But what good can come out of circulating evidence of some young couple's moment of shame, with their faces in clear view? What lesson is to be learned here?

By forwarding these images, the senders have effectively invited public ridicule of some misguided individuals. I'm not going to judge what these kids did, but the older and supposedly wiser forwarders should really think about whether their actions were any better than the voyeur, or even the couple themselves.

Imam Ali k.w berpesan, "Wahai hamba Allah janganlah tergesa-gesa mengecam aib seseorang, kerana boleh jadi Allah mengampuni dosanya, janganlah juga engkau selesa dengan dosamu yang kecil kerana mungkin Allah akan mengazabmu dengan dosa itu".

Translation:
Quoted from Imam Ali: "Servant of Allah, do not rush to condemn the sins of others, because Allah may yet forgive his sin, do not be comfortable with you own little sin, because Allah may yet punish you for it."

(Excerpt from Mengingati Asyura Untuk Kukuhkan Perpaduan - Bahasa article)

Poor Little Rich Girl - Part I

When she was 5 years old, the most thrilling thing in her life was her bicycle. She rode it everywhere and she never did what other kids her age did - she never left the bicycle out in the rain. It was always clean, and the red and chrome surfaces always glistened in the sun. It was her bike, and no one else was allowed to play with it.

She would ride the bicycle fast in a straight line - and as it reached the right speed, she would let go of the handles and let the momentum take her forward. She loved the feeling of being weightless as the wind rushed through her hair.

One day, as she was riding from her house to the bakery shop nearby, her mind drifted to her favourite mango tree - she wondered whether the view from the top would be nice that day. She heard a loud horn and the sound of car brakes screeching. Next thing she knew, she was in a ditch, her knees grazed and bloody.

She couldn't ride her bike for a while, not until the wounds healed. No matter, she was angry at it anyway, it failed her, it had betrayed her trust. She left it out in the rain as punishment. Slowly, the vinyl seats stretched and shrunk from the abuse, and the sponge started to creep out from the open seams. Spots of rust started appearing, but she didn't care. She kept on looking at the scabs on her knee, wondering whether it would ever heal.

When Is It Too Late?

There are things in life that have expiry dates. Milk has an expiry date, which is shortened somewhat if we don't follow storage instructions. Women have expiry dates due to our perceived biological clocks. Ambitions have expiry dates, when success tastes more bitter than sweet.

When a vicious cycle is repeated, what is left is a battered soul and a goalpost that is ravaged beyond recognition. There is no desire to look back, mainly because the view is too painful to behold. Perhaps the yardstick for the question of when is 'too late' too late is the bitter taste when one succeeds in getting what one wants - a sense of victory interlaced with the sour residue of blood spilt on the battleground.

Remembering Our Past

As we inch closer towards our next Merdeka celebrations, it's interesting how various debates have erupted around things pertaining to our identity as a nation.

The 'revamp' of our anthem, the 'keling' issue, the RPK spoof, the ICT fiasco, all poke at the fact that we are what we are - an insecure nation in the midst of an identity crisis as we head straight into a world that already has various neuroses of its own.

I am one for keeping our identity as honest as it can be. No sugar-coated Siti Nurhaliza version of what Malaysia is all about for me, thank you very much.

I prefer to remember my national anthem as the dignified version, despite its origins as an Indonesian joget song that fuelled the fire of the Konfrontasi. I loved every single proud beat of the tune, especially now that it serves as a reminder of the fact that our rulers at one point knew how to think on their feet (they were caught off guard without a state anthem, and plucked 'Oh Rosalie' out of the air - or so says some historians).

I prefer our national language to remain in tact, warts and all. Words that are derogatory are unpleasant, but serves as a reminder of a time gone by, where people were less enlightened and race was very much in your face. Remembering your past in its true form helps you avoid the pitfalls of repeating your mistakes in the future.

I prefer a society where one is allowed to call a spade a spade. Poking fun at ourselves via satire, no matter how painful it is, is better than absolute denial. It allows us to look at ourselves with a grain of salt, and in the light-hearted banter of theater, we can perhaps better see the problems that we need to solve.

As we head towards another celebration of our nation's birth/independence, I think about what the next year will hold for Malaysia. I hope that amidst all the fuss that keeps our mamak stalls lively with debates and discussion, comes some understanding of what it means to be Malaysian. Finally, I hope that this understanding is not limited to the few that in their disillusionment, choose to shy away from making the necessary changes that makes this my most favourite country in the whole world.

Najah Does a Jikon

Friend: Here, have half my fajita.

Najah: No thanks, I'm full.

Friend: No, seriously, have it. Dad's worried, he said you're too thin.

Najah: Since when? I'm supposed to lose another 3 kilos.

Friend: He didn't say 'pretty' thin. He said too thin.

Najah: Well, your dad is surrounded by pudgy people, so naturally I'd be too thin.

Friend: I guess... He's probably used to being around pudgy little baby elephants and here comes one little kancil. OKlah...

{He eats the remaining fajita}

The New Astro Ad

Call me a sucker for emotional ads. OK, call me a sucker for good ads. Especially the ones that talk about making your life richer.

Astro rebranded itself for its 8th anniversary celebration. It's positioning itself as a way for you to make your life richer, through various sketches that closely resemble the main themes of the channels available. Play that against a backdrop of the cheerful sound of children (I think), and you've got an ad that makes you proud to be a customer. :P

To make our lives richer, we Astro customers draw upon the visuals of the likes of Discovery and the Travel Channel. We wake ourselves up to the chatter of CNN and come home to unwind in front of MTV. I'm not going to complain about how we don't get out much, because what's there to get out to? The smog, the noise of modified exhausts, dog poop - I'd rather create my own little heaven elsewhere.

So what if I lose myself in the muhibbah-ness of Coke ads? So what if I get inspired by Nike's call to just do it? And if the Travel Channel gives me the urge to visit Mexico if only to savour the taste of mole, it doesn't matter if I never get there.

There's nothing wrong in taking up rock-climbing after watching Tom Cruise do that impossible scene in the last Mission Impossible, just as there's nothing wrong in learning the hard choices in life in The Practice. It would make lots of stuffy people happier if we learned it from books, but hey, when our ancestors migrated from storytellers to movable type, I'm sure there were heaps of people who thought the medium was evil.

When I have kids, I'm going to let them watch TV. But they're going to watch things from the point of view of inspiration. I would love it if they read books too, but I'd be more ecstatic if they decided to write some of their own stories. The point is, it's great to have dreams, no matter where you derive the ingredients to fuel that mind of yours. The difficult bit is how to keep those dreams alive long enough for you to get there...