The Malaysiana Digests

Were we way off base?

I mentioned earlier that I had breakfast with my Yoda today. I mentioned about how we talked of fulfilment rather than material gains.

I continued thinking about this over the course of the day and I remembered what Dharshini, an old friend from Uni, once taught me a long time ago.

Happiness is fleeting.

That which we mortals covet is like the sand in our palm. As much as we try to hold it in, we can't stop it from seeping through our fingers.

So what should be the ultimate goal then, given the fleeting nature of that which we know as happiness?

I have a theory, based on my discussion with Yoda and many other wise and grey-haired individuals. Most of the subject of my interviews look back, and wished for fulfilment.

I was sipping tea with a friend after work today, and while contemplating the next career move, he outlined a list of things that would easily shadow the 'need' to earn that extra 20%. Respect from your bosses and colleagues, compassion, friendship and comraderie, a sense of achievement. None of these things are actually spelled out in a job advertisement, but we all subconsciously seek it.

It's interesting that when we first start out, we proudly announce how money is everything, and how as we get older, it has less significance.

Fulfilment is perhaps more than just having time to smell the roses. It's a sense of belonging, knowing your place in this world, and seeing the fruits of your labour, however small it may be, come to be.

So have we always been off base in seeking happiness? I think so. Most people who seem happy have no idea what it is until it leaves them. They take the moment for granted, and when it's gone, they pine for it like a lost lover.

Fulfilment, to me, allows us to savour the sweet and the stink of life with the same vigour. Life was not meant to be a bed of roses, so perhaps a change of perception would soothe the souls that needs to be healed.

Snippets for the Long Weekend

After a torrential week, I'm really glad that it's 5pm and the bulk of my weekly worries have more or less been settled.

It was great to catch up with my Yoda for breakfast this morning. It's always good to get perspectives from grey-haired persons once in a while. The topic for today: the need to fulfill the soul rather than just line the pocket.

Speaking of Yoda, a statue of Yoda worth USD 20,000 has been stolen.

My to-do list is clear, my flu (boo!) is reducing my appetite (yay!) and it's a long weekend (after which I can expect to see both "cute things")! What more can anyone ask for...

Modern Day Slavery

After reading the debate about journalistic ethics in light of the self-immolation incident recently, I started wondering how difficult it must be for journalists to deal with the subjects that they cover, especially these subjects involve conflicts and various tragedies. It must be challenging to record the tragic events that make up history, and be limited in how much one can do to help make things better.

So with this new insight in mind, I started skimming through the news of the day and came across this op-ed piece in the New York Times entitled "Freeing the Sex Slaves" by Nicholas Kristof. This was one example of a journalist who was fortunate enough to be able to actively contribute to the welfare of the subject of his writing.

It never occured to me that slavery still exists in our world today until Noreen pointed it out in a chat we had once on the differences between Zakat and Tax. She mentioned about how in earlier times, money collected from zakat was used to free slaves and how this application was still relevant in this day and age because prostitutes, at least in most parts of the world, are in effect, slaves.

The Kristof piece talks about how he went to Cambodia to try to make a difference. While covering the story, he went in to free two girls from their 'debt'. The circumstances that lead to these girls' enslavement were slightly different, though both involved hardship and poverty.

After analysing the situation, Kristof managed to buy the freedom of Srey Neth and Srey Mom for a few hundred US dollars. He was even given receipts to complete the transaction.

This freedom however meant two different things for both the girls. Srey Neth, who was only recently introduced to the brothel, ended up starting a grocery store in her little village. Srey Mom, a more 'senior' sex slave, ran back to the city. Welfare professionals may criticise the method - without the proper support structures e.g. counsellors, how could one expect these girls to survive their newfound freedom? Nevertheless, bad or good, it was an opportunity, albeit a rare one.

The situation in Malaysia is not much different. We often read of girls kidnapped or deceived into the trade - the famous Michael Chong of MCA's Public Service Bureau has had several adventures trying to rescue a couple of them.

The problem of human trafficking, according to Kristof, is not one that is unsurmountable. But there are things that make the path back difficult. Kristof's piece also talks about the stigma surrounding girls who succeed in escaping that life. I'm quite sure most of us would think twice about befriending or accepting women who come back from the 'other side'.

Perhaps if we as a society started seeing prostitution as a form of slavery, rather than just another moral ill, the focus would turn more towards the customers and the bosses, rather than the 'goods'.

Pause

The People We Can't Afford to Lose

Some of us sail through life oblivious to the things and people who matter. Sometimes we have a chance to make things right, sometimes we don't and proceed to live with the burden of regret.

But when the danger of losing that someone creeps up on you, rather than slams you right in the face, and you have time to dwell a bit more on what this person means in your life, the scariest thing is to know that while you can still make things right, you may not have time to actually do it.

All you can do is hope for the best and be strong for those who need you most.

Please say a prayer for Uncle Ross.

Safety Nets

I had an eventful long weekend and I found myself having to put aside my own little problems to focus on matters at hand. I realised that mistakes we make shouldn't go to 'waste' - the experiences we gain should be recycled as lessons for others.

A good friend reached a crossroad in his life. The details of it is inconsequential - but what he said gave me food for thought. This friend is what I would call a social butterfly. He flutters from group to group while juggling his hectic career, and it seems that all was well in his life.

But sometimes things happen that makes us think whether whatever we have is enough. He hit that stage hard.

He said something interesting. For him, no matter what he does, he falls back to his religion. His words: Friends aren't forever. Partying gives temporary relief - you go out, have fun, go home, hangover in the morning and the problems come back. His remedy - 'doa'.

We all have things we fall back on. Some of us seek solace in wealth, some of us seek it in family and friends. Some of us seek solace in anger, which almost always end up in more pain.

I'm not one to criticise how others choose to live their lives, but it's heartwarming to find lessons for myself in others. There are times we feel ashamed or too proud to ask for help, especially when it comes to Him. Thanks to my friend for reminding me that there's always the One who is always willing to listen...

Chess (and other games that require long-term attention)

I can't play chess - not because I don't know how to, in fact, I remember being asked to play for competition, when I was 8 or 9. I can't play chess because it takes too long (and don't suggest speed chess either, I hate being pressured to make a move).

I have a friend who has many sets in his house. I have another friend who wanted to spend almost 2000 bucks on a set. I have another friend who enjoys lifting near-lifesized pieces on a near-lifesized board (think Harry Porter in the 'Sorcerer's Stone').

No, chess is definitely not the game for me, unless someone is on standby to take over. Neither is Monopoly, unless it's the Powerpuff Girls set. I can play Scrabble, but not with overly competitive people (I recall 3 people who used to play this obsessively!).

I grew up playing board games - Life, Strawberry Shortcake's theme park game, those kind of things. I was obsessed with Caesar, Command & Conquer, Warcraft, Civilisation and the Sims. Long-term interest required, at my own pace.

I fully understand the mental and intellectual capacity it takes to play chess. I fully appreciate it. I hope that if and when I have kids someday, they love playing chess (instead of watching TV all the time).

Doom

Shima used to mispronounce 'Dome' all the time. It didn't matter though, because we haven't met there for coffee (or anything) for a long time.

Dome used to have the best breakfast in KLCC, until Chinoz decided to get in on the action in a big way. But I remember the Dome menu with a fondness of times gone by.

More out of convenience rather than the need to stroll down memory lane, three of us stepped into Dome after realising that we were too early for Chinoz. I've never been so disappointed.

The breakfast menu had shrunk but prices had gone up without including tea/coffee as a set. Since hash browns and grilled tomatoes were no longer on offer, I decided to try the eggs benedict. Let's just say that I needed ketchup to get through it. Thank God that the coffee was more than tolerable.

Service was bad, considering that it was breakfast and the staff should be fresh and perky (but then again, I've been pampered too much by those nice people at Chinoz). We quickly called for the bill, and on this matter, I have one more complaint.

One of the things they teach you in hospitality is never to hint that you want tips. This effectively means 1) don't give back too much loose change and 2) never hide the change behind receipts. The bill came up to RM54 for 3 people, when a more scrumptuous meal could have been had at Chinoz for about RM30. My change, an RM5 note, was well hidden behind the receipt, with the coins flying loose in the normal fashion.

Perhaps I'm being too fussy, but once you're used to something, you start noticing things that are different. It becomes easier to note what is best practice (i.e. what satisfies you most as a customer) and what isn't.

Taking too long to seat you is one thing. Taking too long to take your order is another. Making a face when you place your order is a big no-no, especially when all you're asking for is whether the restaurant has something. Water that tastes like chlorine is enough reason to not return.

How I wished I had waited the extra 15 minutes for those guys at Chinoz to finish mopping the floor...

[On a different note: Happy Chinese New Year! Drive safe...]

Memories

Memories are funny things, they pop up out of the blue and bite you in the derrier when you least expect it. They bring forth questions to things you thought you knew, and move you in ways you never thought possible.

Memories are powerful things, they drive you to search for its physical manifestations. They force you to deal with things you tried to shut out by dangling images in your mind at the mere whiff of a familiar scent.

But a good friend once said that we must also trust those little events that memories conveniently leave out. The ones that form the intricate weavings of fate - the reason why things happen. Memories are just signposts, but not necessarily the true picture.

It's interesting how this life works - just as the memories start to take hold, something happens to jolt things into perspective again. Events unfold that mirror what you questioned, playing itself as a cruel rerun to the things you thought you forgot. The sequence of sentences, the image of a person, the frozen smile that reminds you of your place in the framework of another's life...

28 going on 40

I'm having one of those days where I feel much older than I actually am. Really old, like I can't stand straight old.

It's amazing that there are people out there who have the energy to go camping, rock climbing, or even bowling. I look out the window and the day always looks beautiful, but out of reach because I just can't seem to get up without too much pain.

Thank God for the little things, like the memory of a friend who used to put together the oddest things in a sandwich (potato chips), a concoction that has tied me over when I can't whip up something else.

Not what I really want to - my only daily prerequisite is coffee, dilluted or otherwise, as long as there's a smidgeon of caffeine to tell my body to not give me a migraine later in the day.

Of course, coffee is not good for the body. But neither is a lot of things, and given what I have to quit, coffee has nothing on those things... So coffee is here to stay for now.

But I do appreciate the invitations I had today for lunch. I'm looking forward to grabbing that bottomless cup at Ikea soon...

Wants

We all have things we want in our lives (in no particular order):

1. A fulfilling career
2. A coffee-haunt that no one knows about except you and your friends
3. A fulfilling lifestyle
4. A loving partner who wouldn't hesitate to sacrifice for you
5. A loving partner you wouldn't hesitate to sacrifice for
6. A family that supports you unconditionally
7. A life-long supply of fresh flowers

The want list changes as we grow older, add kids and you find a totally new list of wants e.g. the perfect kindergarten, school, trust fund etc. Or in some cases, a nicer car, a posh lifestyle (the rich man smoking that cigar image springs to mind), more enticing company... Whatever the case may be, what happens when we get what we want, and realise that it's not what we thought it would be?

The idea of that perfect life is quite subjective. The more rigid you are, the less you find fulfillment. But I was told that half the battle is knowing what you really want, those things that are uncompromisable, and then having the courage to seek it.

I was also told that the secret to the perfect life is to live without regrets, to take every drop of life as a building block for the future - as the saying goes, when life gives you lemons, make lemonade...

But it's always easier said than done.

Oh Sheet!

I'm mindful that certain extravagances are sometimes left too late for us to enjoy. So while I can enjoy nice sheets, I shall enjoy nice sheets.

Went out on a lunch-shopping spree with Meesh today. After stuffing myself with Agedashi Tofu, Risotto with Grilled Tiger Prawns (thanks to a recommendation from Jikon) and my weekly dose of Pavlova (although, I've had two slices this week already!), we proceeded to look for sheets. It seems that sheet-shopping can be quite addictive, I caught another friend sheet-hunting this morning, after a 2-hour round yesterday with me.

After 'swinging by' British India several times, I realised that there were some things that are worth buying, and some things you should just wait for people to give you. So I continued to Aussino, for the stuff that are worth buying.

I had first thought of yet another checkered number - a light blue, grey and white one from Aussino. We considered bedskirts, fitted sheets, quilt covers, and pillow shams (what's the difference between a sham and a cover anyway?).

Meesh 'test drove' several specimens, learning quickly the difference between 250, 370 and 400-thread count sheets. After the third bed, she got a bit too comfortable - which offered a wonderful photo opportunity. Funny that the salesgirl reprimanded me for taking a photo and not her for taking a nap. But then again, it is a bedding shop...

Either way, I settled on a simple 400-thread count sheet/quilt cover/pillow sham ensemble - all white with 'big squares'. It was slightly above my original budget but the way I see it, if you'll spend 8 hours a day in it, you better make sure it feels good!

Footnote: Life by Charlotte Bronte

Life, believe, is not a dream
So dark as sages say;
Oft a little morning rain
Foretells a pleasant day.
Sometimes there are clouds of gloom,
But these are transient all;
If the shower will make the roses bloom,
O why lament its fall?
Rapidly, merrily,
Life's sunny hours flit by,
Gratefully, cheerily
Enjoy them as they fly!
What though Death at times steps in,
And calls our Best away?
What though sorrow seems to win,
O'er hope, a heavy sway?
Yet Hope again elastic springs,
Unconquered, though she fell;
Still buoyant are her golden wings,
Still strong to bear us well.
Manfully, fearlessly,
The day of trial bear,
For gloriously, victoriously,
Can courage quell despair!

Other footnotes: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5].

What Wouldn't I Do to be Blissfully Ignorant...

Don't you feel sometimes that it's better that you DON'T know, that you'd lead a happier life if no one told you anything, or if your mind were incapable of understanding the intricacies of the world around you?

Don't you sometimes feel that you SHOULDN'T have the ability to connect the dots and form a picture? That are there just some things that are better left to run their course without involving you? That you could do without the knowledge of the bigger picture?

Don't you sometimes feel that it's better to be a simpleton, that one would rather know too little than too much?

[Do ostriches really bury their heads in the sand when confronted with danger? Answer here.]

Secrets

It seems that we sell ourselves short all too often. Eventhough we try to shut out the negative things the people we care about say or do, these little insignificant things somehow manage to etch their way into how we see ourselves.

Take for example, a fateful dinner, where much important matters need discussing. You wouldn't leave your phone handy if that dinner meant losing millions, you'd mute it or even turn it off. Why should the rule be any different when it comes to someone you care about, especially when there is much important matters to be discussed?

Then there are the careless comments, the ones that reflect how some people truly feel about something you were honest about. The ones where the hurt shows in the careless statements, or even how they put you on hold while they sort out their own little business of the day.

No, this has nothing to do with anything that happened in the past 24 hours, but an awakening of sorts for me - by watching what people do, rather than what they say. Knowing what I'm worth, rather than how others value (or don't value) me, helps exorcise the demon that's been plaguing my nights and perhaps, clearing my clouded conscience once and for all.

This is not funny anymore (or "I am the new OAG mirror site")

I had the honour of briefly meeting Radhi of OAG at the INFOSOC conference last June, and he was kind enough to let me snap a few shots of him with his fans.

If no one has noticed, my gallery has become an OAG fan club forum. Not wanting to distract the fans from the actual OAG site, I started closing off the comments on the old photos one by one. There were only two. One here, and the other one is here.

It's not funny anymore.

Today, a misguided fan insisted on putting her comment, on another post that had nothing to do with the group. This is where I get catty.

To those who feel compelled to pen their thoughts in my gallery:

If you can find your way around the internet to my site, and figure out how to use a comment box, can't you figure out that this is NOT an OAG site and no matter how heartfelt your messages are to them, chances are, they won't see it.

So do yourself and OAG a favour by working that mouse a bit harder (one extra click is all it takes, and click here - yes, that will lead you to the REAL OAG site.

[Lene/Ban, this is NOT funny!]

Opportunities

Someone (hey, I keep wise company...) once told me that if you open yourself up to the world, the world opens itself to you.

How true.

Today, I decided to engage my world. I made sure that my stare and my gaze conveyed exactly what I meant - that I recognise the other as existing in my world and hence, offering an opportunity to interact with me.

It's only 10am, and I've made 2 new friends who have helped me with something so mundane yet could have been very difficult, and potentially one more. It seems that this rule is true:

Turkle's Law of Human Vulnerability to An Active Gaze

If a creature, computational or biological, makes eye contact with a person, tracks her gaze, and gestures with interest toward her, that person will experience the creature as sentient, even capable of understanding her inner state.

What is your law? [Thanks to a pointer from here.]

Malaysians Behaving Badly

Sometimes I forget why I don't go out much.

In a show of support for a good friend who just opened a store (not hers, but she opened it), I ventured into the urban jungle that is One Utama 2 (or as another friend would call it, Two Utama).

During the usual 45 minute 'wait' to get into the complex, I was observing the crowd around us. The car in front was a cab, and just as I was looking that way, the door opened and a young girl let out a mucous-ridden lump of spit. Still gagging over the scene, another one soon followed.

The couple in the cab, not wanting to pay more in unnecessary cab fare, decided to walk the distance to the complex. The girl stepped out, and let out another spit ball, followed by the guy, who let out his own. This made me look carefully where I stepped. Having looked down, instead of up, when walking, I noticed that there were countless puddles of spit everywhere!

Later on in the car park, I noticed water dripping from the side of an Esteema. A woman was holding her toddler son while he was peeing onto the car park floor.

I related the incident to several friends, who went on to tell me their own. One friend saw a lady hold her child over a sink in a restaurant so that the baby can do the number 2. Another one say this happen in a hotel toilet, with a number 1.

Has the concept of hygiene and consideration for public amenities totally escaped us Malaysians?

Dress My Feet

I bumped into the Shoes-in-Question online today. Google searches are amazing, while looking for something else, I inadvertantly found online those Kenneth Cole shoes that I can't wear. The caption says that the shoes are made from Nappa leather - the upper part of the shoes that is. No mention of what lines it. Sigh.

So my quest continues. I brought the girls past another pair that I'm eyeing, and while it would cost me the equivalent of monthly rent for a nice apartment, the masochist in me screams for it. Walk by Prada KLCC for a look. Check out the most 'high altitude' pair on display.

Getting a second, third and fourth opinion was good in that now there's a voice inside my head (albeit a faint one) that's telling me: shop around.

So, without those shoes, my fingers did the walking...

I found another Kenneth Cole design online that I may like, and looking at the price, I can probably get a pair of these shoes and feed the poor for the price of those Pradas. I've gotten my fair share of lectures on what is necessary and what is excessive (although I assure you, my last purchase was at least 3 months ago, and I do thrash my shoes quite a bit because of how I walk), but once in a while, it is liberating to dress one's feet...

Hell is Other People

Trust someone to come up with such a statement.

We all have our demons, and perhaps the mark of a civilised society is one that cares enough to do something to help you, yet respect you enough to not pry into matters that are none of their concern.

I guess in matters to do with how we interact with our family, friends and colleagues, the best rule would be to ask ourselves why we do the things we do, or say the things we say.

Asking ourselves whether our words or actions will hurt more than heal refrains us from acting out of self-interest or other less than pure motivations. There is a reason why God forbids us from gossiping, putting in high on the list of things we shouldn't do. Gossip brings down friendships and families. It rocks solid foundations and obliterates unstable ones.

I recall a game I played as a child, where all the children had to sit in a line. The teacher would pass a message to one end, and each child was supposed to pass on the message to the next one. The message at the other end is always different from what it started as.

No matter how many times we played this game, it always had the same results - and that's before you factor in malicious intent, jealousy, greed, and personal vandettas, to name a few.

I've had to help friends deal with the trauma of such actions, as well as deal with some of my own. At times like this, when one is faced with something as out of our control has the intention of others, I recall advice from a dear friend: Whatever you do, do it with dignity.

Blue Skies

I join Jikon in breathing a huge sigh of relief at the end of 2003. My New Year's Eve was spent talking to a dear dear friend, and while I can't seem to recall what we talked about, I remembered how I felt after the conversation.

The transition between 2003 and 2004 for me can be likened to grabbing hold of a herd of raging bulls by their nostrils and telling them to just shut up and take a nap.

The bulls have taken a nap, long enough for the dust to settle and for the sky to turn blue again. The same blue I saw when my pilot was speeding on the second day after the first day of this year. The same blue I saw after my first visit to the big Ikea. The same blue that I saw today.

Just as well that the blue skies emerged. My friends are back, and it's my turn to help clear their storms.

Update: I spoke too soon.