A people divided......

Coming to Malaysia has made me realise many issues about reality in this world. Before coming, I was looking forward to meeting Malays and learning more about the culture. I knew it was different from my interactions with diplomats at the High Commission. During the early years in Malaysia, I used to introduce myself as a Sri Lankan Malay. A sizeable number were surprised to learn that there were Malays in Sri Lanka and wanted to know more, and thus I told them. Others just raised an eye, after which they said how much I resemble an “Indian.” Last year, I was asked by some Sri Lankan Malays -when escorting the Malaysian delegation- why the Malays over here looked “Chinese.” Like they say- what goes around comes around. There were also a minority who had no clue as to where Sri Lanka was located; that tells abundance of their intellect in geography. Now, I introduce myself as a Sri Lankan Muslim.

What really irks me exponentially when someone uses the words “pure Malay.” I see no clear avenue as how a person can distinguish that quality. I’ve heard this two times so far, and at both instances, the words were clearly articulated and gave emphasis to reinforce an identity. The first time, it occurred during a routine introduction with a person whom I like to call a hybrid: offspring of a couple belonging to two races. His father was Pakistani, while his mother Malay, but he worded and strengthened his maternal lineage by using “pure Malay.” The second time was yesterday, when I went to dinner at a family friends’ house- all of whom are Sri Lankan Malays. During a conversation about my university, a certain chap became the focal point and I was asked about him. He too is a hybrid, father a Sri Lankan Moor, and mother Malay. After mentioning this fact, the gentleman asked me a second time if the mother was “pure Malay” to which I replied in the affirmative. It’s like the man wanted to reassure some notion easing the anxiety in his heart.

I hope all of you reading this can see behind the lines. Malays discriminate against their kind. If it was not the case, then why do people need to state, or inquire the “purity” of a persons’ race? It’s all hogwash. If this yardstick is applied in its literal sense, then many of whom with lineage to other races cannot be called “Malay.” My maternal great-grandmother was Tamil, then my maternal grandmother Sinhalese, and I’m now Malay- according to my birth certificate. Physical characteristics apart, there is no consistent manner of justifying this claim. Don’t even get me started about eating Durian, a true signature of being Malay. I can’t stand that bloody fruit and it gives me an allergic reaction, so to hell with it.

Sri Lanka is divided along religious lines- a commonality in many countries. Malaysia is divided along racial lines, which is very bad. Then we see India split according to castes, an even worse plight altogether because tensions are always simmering and ending with violence. The truth is hard to swallow, but its high time people learn to live with it. Muslims in Sri Lanka comprise of many races, the majority being Moors (origin from the Arabia), then Malays, Memons (origin from Pakistan), Borahs (origin from India who are Shiites). In spite of this diverse makeup, the community is non-racist to a great extent, which can be proven by the many inter-marriages between Moors and Malays.

But when race is used like a marker to identify people, then it affects their behaviour greatly. In Malaysia, there is an immediate need to conform and be accepted as part of a certain race. I see non-Malays wearing the songkok over here, which to me is highly puzzling. It’s equivalent to I wearing a Moor’s cap in Sri Lanka, while a Moor doing it vice versa, or I dressing up like a Sinhalese. The songkok over here is a symbol of belonging, that is, and being utilised for economical and social agendas. It has the magical ability to make matters work out smoother than otherwise. Another mind boggling connotation is the term “Indian Malay.” I seriously doubt the practicality in a person laying claim to more than one race. In the end you have got to choose one over the other. I realise the sensitivity of this topic, and I’ve already ruffled a few feathers as a result of my post.

I have little concern for haggling and professing extreme views about my race. I’m proud to be Malay in my own way, but being a Muslim comes first. Malays are a delusional lot ingrained with the idea that being “Malay” takes higher precedence than being a Muslim. To those kinds of people, I spurn them like I would a dog with rabies. I can’t recall ever hearing of “Malay” blood because there is no such type- only A, B, AB and O. What more talking about being “pure Malay!!!!” It’s such an outrageous and baseless notion that will only lead more dissention, and not integration. Here is another titbit; being Malay does not necessarily mean that he/she has to be Muslim. People of a race can and do profess to more than one religion, and it’s not mutually exclusive. Sadly a lot of narrow minded people cannot grasp this idea. What a pity. In order to illustrate, the Sinhalese are mostly Buddhists’, then Christians, and lastly Muslims; there you have it.

A kiss from a Rose

Fanny: Don’t waste my time. Choose something we have.

Max: I would like a lifetime spent with an irrational and suspicious goddess.........some short-tempered jealousy on the side, and a bottle of wine that tastes like you; a glass never empty. Forgive my lips, they find joy in the most unusual places.

(A Good Year- 2006)

As I had finished watching this movie -one of my handful of activities at present, productive or not- there lingered a slight sense of curiosity spurred on by a dreamlike fascination of how a real kiss would feel. In reality, there is no argument that such an experience is light-years away from where I stand; neither is my intention to expedite the entire process. There is no point in a kiss if it does not have a purpose. This of course is my opinion, which many people would disagree completely and have me shot for saying it. But I can hardly care. I believe its time for me to let myself loose from my shackles of giving a damn of what people think about my blog and its content. As long as no one files a defamation suit against me, that would be bliss. Being anonymous is my way of doing things.

Last year, while on holiday in the motherland, a friend of mine -a woman who in my mind is starkly unconventional from most I’ve met- posed a question that hit me like a hurricane. She asked me if I had been kissed before, and I replied in the negative, while still reeling from the effects of it. Talk about a straight arrow. She was good enough to show her sympathy towards my plight, which for some reason amused me. I still think about it and a wide smile is sure to ensue. How ironic it seemed that people used it as a measure to gauge people. I don’t mind and couldn’t care less, but it’s being done. Having said all of that, the thought would not leave my mind anytime soon.

In post-war news, Sri Lanka has managed to escape a UNHRC resolution aimed at probing into war crimes done by the armed forces. I’m not going to say that, there were no crimes committed, but war brings out the savagery from its combatants. But I do believe that armed forces would have done less harm as compared to the LTTE. Most Tamils are an ignorant lot from my observations, and the Tamils in Malaysia are no exception. One only has to dangle the carrot symbolising the Tamil cause before them and everything is forgotten- even reason. It’s very distressing and irritating to learn that these people are just groping in the dark. I read a news article that the Tamils want announcements to be made in their lingo in Malaysia airports. I say good luck with that because the answer is almost predictable. NO. For small percentage of the population these Tamils are very demanding. Maybe it’s in their genes!??!

Small steps of another long journey

18 May 2009 will not be easily forgotten by every Sri Lankan who lived to tell of that day for many generations to come. Indeed, when news started to appear on the internet, and many sms-ing to people all over the world. I got an sms from emak that read "Salam, Prabhakaran shot dead." Those words created an emotional whirlwind inside me because this is what I and so many millions of people had hoped for many years. The feeling was of relief that Sri Lanka -an island the size of a tear drop- was successful in liberating its lands from terrorism. In all honesty, after receiving the news I had a flashback of a tele-drama a few years back; one that I watched while in school. In it, the final episode ended with people celebrating the end of the war. While watching that part of the tele-drama I thought how ridiculous the thought was. Now I stand corrected.

I was so proud to call myself 'Sri Lankan' because we as a nation have accomplished what others are still fighting to eradicate. We uprooted every trace of the world's most dangerous terrorist organisation. It took a period of 3 years and loss of countless lives, but all that were not in vain. For 26 years the LTTE caused grief, heartache and suffering to many Sri Lankans, but not anymore. Patriotic cells in my body were like hyperactive gymnasts because simply put words cannot do justice as to how I felt. I got news that celebrations broke out in Colombo and every place in the island. But did we really emerge victorious? I think we claimed a war victory, while a comprehensive one is still far away. Ending of a war only means a stop to killing, destruction of infrastructure and the economy, a return to normalcy- that's it. I'm still trying to grasp the idea of 'normalcy' because those of my generation haven't the slightest inclination as to what it is. We grew up with the words "war", "terrorism", "LTTE" on a constant 24-7-365 basis. I bet even a child would know those words. The final phase of the war lasting 3 years came at a price of more than 6000 soldiers from the armed forces who had sacrificed their lives. Apart from that another 25000 soldiers have been wounded in many ways that will forever remind them of the scars of war. More than 70000 civilians have had to unnecessarily die in a tenure of 26 years. I wonder how much they could have contributed to the country to make it better?

A comprehensive victory can only be accomplished when Sri Lanka is able to rise up from its current ruins in order to pave the way for greater progress and prosperity. Progress and prosperity can be interpreted in various ways, but for now, lets consider an economic measurement; although social, educational, health, cultural measurements are equally important. The new Sri Lanka needs a change in outlook and attitude with more stamina for tolerance. Mindset of Sri Lankans need a paradigm shift where it's time to forgive people who have made mistakes, but there is no chance to forget. There is a reason why the past is a precedent for the future, thus its about time we started to analyse all our mistakes as a nation. Everyone can play the 'blame game', but only a handful can rise up to the occasion and take charge with the sincere intent of advocating change.

Integration among the people is key to overcoming any problems that we may face. It's not that Sri Lanka is devoid of it, but integration needs to be put into action all over the island. One thing I know beyond a shadow of doubt is that we Sri Lankans are a resilient people. Even after close to 3 decades of war, and many untold hardships, we are still standing. Mother Lanka has endured countless horrors and now the time has come to make her feel better.

Time to blow out the candle

It’s very natural that whatever is started should see its end. This principle applies to almost anything, thus being universal. Man is born and eventually dies, and so the cycle goes on. In my best interest I have decided to end something that started about a year ago.

I saw a woman who caught my attention at first sight. She was to me, a woman like none other. The occasion was to celebrate someone’s 'special' day and she happened to be attending. Since that day I have not been able to forget her. A vision indeed!! But as always, in my case nothing goes according to plan. I called her Ms. X to protect her identity and also from being teased. What can I say; I’m quite the thoughtful type.

The hardest part is not giving up, or whining about the situation, but accepting reality as it is. I believe that I’m quite good at it. I can take high dose of hurtful reality without a second thought. It must be how I have conditioned myself. Yippee, for me!! All of my major decisions so far in any aspect have been evaluated numerous times by my cognitive senses. So far my heart has not overridden my mind. I wonder if it ever will??

After this, the chase stops and every other thing with it. Neither will I pursue any matter related to this topic. It’s not because of the lack in interest, but more about expending effort for such an endeavour. I think that effort is best utilised for matters of higher priority. Higher priority as in putting my family first along with matters concerning them, and I come second. While it lasted, there were highs and lows, satisfaction and frustration, infatuation and now, the end.

Like the bard had said “It’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.” All I can say is that I didn’t lose, but merely carrying on with the hope of hoping to love someday.

Moving on

Adieu, my fair lady; time has come to part
Time spent with thee was indeed memorable
I'm letting the thought of you leave me- completely!!
Hence, I have no other option, but to move on

Indeed, 'twas a pleasure knowing you
Listening to all your opinions and points of view
Thou art a 'stimulating' woman, in personality and character
Alas, an illusion is an element quite vain for me to hold on

I'm thankful for a serendipitous encounter when we first met
You were asking people to sign a banner against apostacy
Then 3 years later, there you were right in front of me
On that day, I tried so hard not to stare, and every time hence

At first, I was in denial about liking you
I tried to chuck it all away, but failed miserably
As time passed, I was drawn to you more, so hopelessly
But your manner of denial I've never heard nor seen before

I know you like Norah Jones, and can listen to her all day
Then Faulkner, Harper, Johnson and "maybe" Mayer
I think your 'virtual' diary speaks volumes of you
Its too bad 'time' was not on my side to know more

It's a pity that my subtle hints were of no use
How I wish they were untrue; tell me you lied!!!
And I was not after someone else in the "council"
My dear it was YOU, too bad you couldn't see it

I could have come and professed my intentions to you
But I was told, it would cause you much worry and anxiety
I know you aren't strong enough to handle it, that's too bad
It's the sole reason that held me back, like a bloody mute

Even if I talk-the-talk, I can't walk-the-walk; so helpless I seem
There are so many things that take precedence before me
I'm all too familiar with things not going in my way
All I can do is leave it to God, and be on my way

I wish you the very best in life and in everything you do
You're a lady who is gorgeous in every way- truly!!
You're Ms. X and in time your traces will wither away
In the end, I wish to be set free of thy aura forever

Adieu my fair lady..........adieu!!

Story about the third nipple

The title of this post to many may sound corny and rather kinky, but do not take it lightly. The third 'nipple' is very real. It all started a week ago as a small dot in the valley of my chest. Positioning of this dot was so strategic that it was centred between my two biological nipples. The dot was 45 degrees above both my nipples, and if someone had drawn a line from a market it would have made a perfect triangle. As usual, I paid it no heed thinking that it would go away. At first, I assumed it as a pimple. So...no worries right? Wrong!!!

As days went by, the dot turned into something like a mole. Then it started to get bigger and bigger to such an extent both my biological nipples looked very small. At the back of my mind, I was starting to get worried. I mean, this was ridiculous and has never happened to me before. First thing that crossed my mind was if this 'thing' was a clot. I started thinking names of terminal illnesses, but stopped myself soon after. The best thing was to show the doctor, but I had doubts about how competent doctors were in the uni clinic. Hey, it's all due to past experience ok.

It turned out that my doctor was indeed competent. The 'third' nipple was due to some sort of dirt being accumulated under my skin. I have no freakin idea how that happened!! I got drugs prescribed by the doctor and went to the clinic again today. By 1pm today my nipple was ready to pop. It was shaped like a skin volcano ready to spurt out some gooey stuff that looked yellow in colour. I met the doctor and he was ready for action, and so was I.

For the second time in my life, I was lying down on a hospital bed. It started with me unbuttoning my shirt, which sent the nurses into a frenzy. Apparently, they haven't seen chest hair and I got the drift with their chatter in BM. Pretending not to know BM is kind of good in certain situations. For the first time in my life I got my chest shaved, or at least a part of it. Honestly, the whole thing felt weird, but I had no say in the matter. Its kind of nice when women do the job of shaving because they're more gentle than men. That is a definite plus- yes, sir. Then came the hard part. The doctor came in and sprayed some cream on top of the 'third' nipple. Suddenly, my chest started to burn like it was on fire, the heat was too much to handle. After a few seconds later the doctor squeezed my nipple!! He did that for about 4 to 5 times and I really saw stars. All I did was control my breathing to compensate for the pain. It finished when blood started to come out of it, which meant that there was no dirt left inside.

Now, I have a partly shaved chest and a big plaster on my chest. That my dear people is the story of the 'third' nipple. In due time I will be like normal men with two nipples. ;)