These are the thoughts of an individual trying his best to survive against the odds of the present world. An everlasting drive to rise above the challenges of contemporary life. These are my thoughts and emotions that have made me the person I am today.
The will to succeed and thirst for success is my core motivation in life while constantly striving to be a better human in the eyes of God..
At present, being 'temporarily' unemployed may be a sort of blessing in disguise. In one way I get to help around the house; by this it means I help mum. I never noticed it before, maybe I was not that observant, but she does all the work at home. It's really amazing to watch her juggle all the chores, look into whatever that is required by us (meaning dad, bro and I), have a mental inventory of supplies, and not to mention give a good scolding when you're out of line etc. I daresay, she would beat superwoman hands down!! Having said that, I'm sure she beat superwoman like about 20 years ago.
I have managed to pitch in whenever I'm needed; to lift heavy objects, run errands.... you know, its mostly heavy duty stuff. Then one day I took a bold move and started to do the dishes without warning. If I had asked to do them she would always say, no!! I think mothers don't like their sons in the kitchen. I wonder why? All of a sudden I went 'commando' and started with the dishes, later she came and told me stop; but like I was just going to drop everything and leave!! One of my policies, which I have adopted over the years is to finish whatever I start. Thus, I did all the dishes, and in return, as appreciation got a few kind words and a kiss.
My skills are being honed on many avenues, cutting beef is one of them. If you ignorant lot think cutting beef is a 'piece of cake', then I would tell you to think again. I was only given a tutorial that lasted a good 5-10 minutes, and after that, it was all me. Surprisingly, I kind of picked up on a few things mum taught me and successfully finished task. I guess it must have been my hidden culinary skills erupting like lava from a dormant chef-to-be soul. I'm not going to say that it was easy; what with having to cut layers of fat (mum has a zero policy on fat!!), then some skin, and what not. Let me make one thing clear- your mum is the most strict of supervisors you will ever come across.
There you have it folks, I'm somewhat of a butcher. Hmmm.... a new line of employment perhaps?!? .........NOT. Hajj was a challenge when it came to making a fire to barbecue satay. The local satay is hardly sweet, rather its kind of spicy. Usually, coconut shells are used to make the fire, alas, there were none. So, we resorted to coal not knowing how things would turn out. Coal took about an hour to really emit required heat in order to cook the satay, but in the end victory was ours!!
Although, its a bit late, Eid Mubarak to everyone!!
It has been a week since landing in the golden shores of my motherland. One thing I must mention is that not a lot has changed. Among some of the significant things done by me include attending a friends wedding (though I can't remember the last time attending one at home), paying for a year long gym membership (got to stay in shape!!), and applying for jobs the very next day I landed. Thus far, there have not been any replies.
When I look back at my tenure in Malaysia, it is satisfying to know there is no unfinished business; even in the case of Ms. X. For once, my mind is clear and not in bits and pieces, neither does it wander aimlessly. Frankly, I did the right thing, so too, thought my 'panel' of advisers who have been by my side. The end result was as expected, but I took heart in a single aspect; I never had any expectations in the first place. As a start, my advisers were quite realistic regarding my pursuit, therefore gave me wise consultation. In the end, it all boils down to one thing- can you handle it?!? If that be a resounding and confident 'yes', then I would say good on you; but if one can't, that's too bad.
At present, I'm all about back-tracking, tuning myself to the local rhythm. Since I'm going to be here for quite sometime, I thought let's make the best of it. My statistics lecturer during my first sem in uni inquired as to who liked the subject, to which a few raised their hands. To the rest of the class he said this- "If you don't like statistics there's nothing much can be done, but LEARN to like it." I think that saying is quite apt given my scenario. I have optimism about one thing, and that is, somehow everything would work out, Insha Allah.
It will not be a cake walk because I realise there is a lot being expected from me. In my eyes I have to deliver, whatever the cost to myself. In the past years I learned about priorities the hard way!! First, in Malaysia, it was my studies and not a lot other activities. Now, its my family, and I have no intention of failing, it's not an option. I realise very well, after speaking to my parents what is expected of me, as the eldest child. Sacrifices by oneself have to be made because that's the only way to give priority to another, and it ain't gonna be easy.
My blog of late has been very depressing, that being my own opinion. What happened to that humorous, innuendo-prone, jovial man?!!? Answer to that one only rests in the hands of God. But I really do hope that man would pay me a visit and stay for a long time. I need that chap more than anything, or anyone right now; he is only person who can keep me going.
As I woke up this morning something didn't feel right. My thoughts were all jumbled up and scattered; it took awhile to figure out what I should do next after waking up. Last night I ran after someone. That "someone" kept getting further away everytime I came closer and closer. Utterly frustrating as it sounds, the entire episode was played out in a subconscious state. It was one of those bouts where you are pulled into it a 100 percent with no room to escape. On the other hand, the entire incident to an extent was real. I hated to admit it, but somethings I just couldn't let go, and neither chuck it away to some cornet of my heart hoping it will gradually decompose. Honestly, it has never been this hard before; question is why now?!!?
I'm nearing the final corner of my marathon; a marathon that taught me many things about life, changed my perspectives, broadened my thinking, and reformed my soul to an extent. It was one of God's small mercies bestowed upon me, and hope I carried out my duty to the full.
Although, I advocate rational thinking and actions, there are times I wish they didn't exist. Fostering and nurturing my rational ideology has come at the cost of ignoring my feelings, or better yet, my heart!! I feel now that I should have said the things which I wanted to in the past. My cardiac pressure chamber has compressed a Himalaya of feelings without letting it all out; I cant afford to compress anymore. In the end people are subjected to circumstance and so many other factors that go along with it. What a bitch!!! I only want to say what I want and be done with it, but that's easier said than done.
Everything is coming into place: on Wednesday my programme at the NGO will finish, and Thursday will be my final day in office. I'm not sentimental about leaving the NGO, rather relieved. I've sent all my books and other stuff by cargo last week. Now its just to hop into the plan and wait for the take, and let's not forget the landing.
But I still can't forget that "someone" from my head..........
Time just seems to whiz past you, never giving the chance to look back, and not even holding on to something for more than little while. Thus, convo came and it went without much hype, at least for me it did. My folks only left for home on Sunday afternoon after 2 weeks of holiday cum official visits. Dad met some of his old friends, not to mention official contacts too; alas, he couldn't meet an old acquaintance, the opposition leader because he was in the neighbouring country. If he had got an appointment I would have not missed out on the opportunity.
Convo was a great day for my parents without a doubt. The gleam and sparkle in their eyes was hard not to notice, and rightly so they deserved it. In an economic sense, I had delivered upon my word to strive for excellence; therefore, return on investment is positive. But sadly, I noticed so many others in my faculty had graduated with a normal degree. I say, c'mon!!! In my department there were only about 6 people above 3.5, and around 20-30 who were above 3 cgpa from a total of 120 odd students. Looking at the souvenir something didn't feel right, but I couldn't put a finger on it. Even though, I had no reason to jump for joy doing it for my parents was worth it.
Two weeks included taking my folks to see the sights and sounds of KL. Mum, it being her first visit to M'sia went on to ask me a million questions. She was surprised people are eating out a lot, and wanted to know why women don't cook? I'll narrate two incidents that made her come to this conclusion. We were invited on two separate occasions for dinner and each time mum thanked the lady of the house by saying "Thank you so much for preparing dinner, you must have gone through a lot of trouble." What she said is a common courtesy in the motherland practiced by almost all the women and men too. After mum had finished saying it, the reply was "It's not a big thing, we just bought food from the shop"; it happened twice. I also know that its not fair to generalise saying all women don't cook, because a certain minority are an exception to the norm. I think she felt a bit insulted by it, but never showed it, which was the right thing to do. Even if the food had been bought from outside, I was thinking why it had to be mentioned in the first place!!
A day before they departed, we had the most important talk of all. What I had in mind for the future?? We have family meetings, or 'shura' as we call it, when we have to discuss important issues. During that session we talked about issues related mostly to me and my future, and of course, my views were considered. After a while, we came to a consensus, that I should return home. I didn't object because since lately I've been wanting to return home as well. I have a feeling my folks need me there, and if not now, when?? I felt it when leaving my parents at the airport. As I embraced my dad for the third time, I felt him holding on for a few seconds more, and it was longer with mum.
This is it, the perfect graduation present anyone could give. I mean, just think to all the places the compass will point?!!? Now all I need is a good-hearted person who is willing to scour the globe and present it to me.
Last week, I was fortunate enough to to be part of a meeting with the Mayor of Gaza, actually the Mayor of Biet Lahia Municipality, one of the districts in Gaza. The experience, I tell you, was nothing like I imagined it would be. I didn't even know that he was coming to my office until the Palestinian working with us told me about it that morning. He is the second-in-command from Hamas in Gaza, which is obviously a very important position. We had to use an interpreter to exchange ideas and views, but that hardly dampened our spirits. He could speak English, which he did at certain instances, but chose to speak his mother tongue most of the time.
He came to our office in order to discuss a project we are planning to implement in Gaza, namely micro-financing, and to look into its viability given the prevailing context. One thing people should know- Gaza is still not stable. According to information, Gaza is under 24 hour surveillance from satellites and unmanned drones flying over their skies. They are being watched every day, every minute of their lives!! The wall surrounding Gaza is not of mere concrete, its been installed with sophisticated weaponry; come within less than 400m of it and sensors trigger a firing mechanism that will shoot to kill. Artificial intelligence cannot differentiate between an attacker, and someone who is innocent. Everything should be bought from the Israeli's, thus those in Gaza pay a premium for almost everything. To overcome this problem people living in Gaza have dug tunnels from their homes, more than 3000 of them which can even reach Egypt. Through these tunnels they smuggle anything and everything.
The mayor's quote about the women of Gaza: we depend on our women, they are as strong as our men. Masha Allah!! When I heard him utter those words, I felt so grateful for the people of Palestine, because Allah has blessed them even in harsh times. Indeed, women can be such a source of strength in difficult times, when all hope seems lost, all options have been exhausted. Let their tender touch, soft words and encouragement invigorate and rejuvenate those fighting to free Palestine.
Post-traumatic notions have somewhat been lifted to an extent after the dreadful incident, although I still wish it all ahd been a bad dream. Upon further inspection, my friend had lost some USD and S'pore Dollars, and I, my only watch. We're trying to put all behind us now, but there is a constant sense of fear in our house. It's because we couldn't for sure figure out how the thief got in, and the only logical explanation is from the ceiling since there was no break-in. At times the tension becomes all too comical. Like yesterday night, after returning from an aimless gallivant I realised my friend (the third guy) had a knife stashed next to him. I only saw it when I went behind him because his posture -leaning fully stretched on the floor- covered all visibility of the object. Both of us inquired why and he said he had heard noise and kept the knife near him as a precaution. The way he said it made as roar for a good 5 to 7 minutes. Amidst many bad phases throughout the years, the three of us have managed to laugh too. How about that?!!?
The one person that gave me heart through all this was mum. During a video call my entire face was drooping to the floor, not to mention wrinkled and stressed out. She spoke to me in her usual tone, all calm and collected, full of advice. She told me not to look so sad and to smile because it made her son look good. Then she messaged me Holy verses, here's one of them: We will surely test you through some fear, hunger, and loss of money, lives, and crops. Give good news to the steadfast (2:155). At that time, I wished she was near me to rest my head on her lap, and just take comfort in her words thinking everything will be ok. Her words mean a lot to me, especially when she's the only one who keeps 3 men close together. She understands us, knows how we behave, what to say at any given time, our likes and dislikes, plus a whole lot more. She told that I'm a good listener than my brother who has little time to listen, and quite outgoing (the latter is true, but not sure about the former one). What she said to me 5 years ago before coming to M'sia still ring in my ears; she sat next to me and while patting my head whispered "I know you haven't done well in your studies in school, but I always believe that you can do better....because I have faith in you." Those words kept me going through uni, through rain and shine, lifting my sagging spirits from time to time. God bless my mum because she makes me be a better man. She knows just what to say, and to have that ability is nothing short of a psychic.
Convo is around the corner, but I don't feel like jumping for joy, or should I?!? All of my recent entries must be sounding bloody ominous, right?? I just want to get the whole thing over with since its considered an important milestone in ones life. My parents are flying in, so that itself proves how big a deal it really is. Currently, I'm re-evaluating all of my future moves due to a few pressing matters back home. I have no intention of idling away doing nothing, life is too short for all that. Insha Allah, I will have a clear picture after convo, after a thorough discussion with mum and dad. Until then, I can only wait.
The past 24 hours has been the worst in my life on foreign soil. Yesterday, around 10.40pm I got a call from my roomie with the news of our house being burgled. The thief had taken my office laptop and my friends' digital camera. I thought at first it was some sort of a hoax, but then it was not so. It a matter of seconds everything went from happy to depressed. I was in a cheery mood coming to my relatives house in JB after a night of shopping, not to mention getting a hair-cut with a very relaxing massage. Raya was very intoxicating, thus I was already high with the festive mood. After a phone call with my boss this afternoon, who queried why I kept my laptop at home; he further went to say even he doesn't keep valuable things in his house. What kind of bullshit is that?? If you can't keep valuables in your house, then where else?? One thing is for sure though, money for the laptop will come out of my pocket.
As related by my friend, there were no signs of forced entry, everything looked the same as they had left it before leaving the place. Upon their return nothing was out of place except for the missing laptop, digital camera, and a ransacked suitcase belonging to my roomie who lost the camera. All suspect that the thief would have descended from the ceiling because there is no other way of entering the apartment. Height would be around 8-9ft from ceiling to floor, which means the thief is very agile in scaling such heights. The best part is even the police couldn't figure out how the thief got in!!! Talk about effective crime fighting, eh?
I could hardly sleep a wink last night, only sleep deprivation forced shut my eyes after Subah prayers. That entire time I was thinking how to fix this situation, better yet, why does shitty occurrences like this seem to revolve around me?? On Thursday -the day I was to arrive in JB- I left home 2 hours ahead of my departure time, but still missed the bus. Traffic from Chow Kit to Masjid Jamek was crawling at a snails pace, add to that the stupid decisions drivers make when stuck in a jam which exacerbated the whole situation. I had 30min to make it from Pudu to Bukit Jalil, and how wrong I was in my estimation since the bus driver took 15min out of that to fill the bloody bus. Finally, nearing Bukit Jalil it started to pour like that area previously had a drought and this rain would bring it back to life. Wet and thoroughly soaked, I made it to my designated bus terminal only to find out the best buss is in another hour. Hearing that I felt a bit happy because, obviously who wouldn't?!!? But nothing works out like its supposed to, so I actually got on board around 7.30pm after buying food for ifthar, that too, I had to make a second trip in the rain. This is my most eventful balik kampung so far!!
In the end, I was happy that I at least got a seat in another bus and got to JB safety. From hereon it was all going to a jolly time. I WAS SO FUCKING WRONG!!!
I have been constantly and consistently tested by God since my graduation like never before. I took everything in good stride, not even doubting for a moment the infinite wisdom of God. Oh my Merciful Lord, I am holding on by a thread, this is becoming too much to bear. I kept on looking for the light at the end of the tunnel, but instead of seeing the light only darkness prevails. I need to be optimistic, I know that, then again when bad luck keeps on kicking your ass there has be a time-out. God, forgive me what I'm going to do now.
I curse the thief who stole from my friend and I because we never took what belonged to others. I curse you with every ounce of hurt that lingers in my heart. I hope you lose all that you have and more, accumulated from all those you have stolen from previously.
On the eve of my b'day, I was looking forward to doing a full 20 rakaths for taraweeh and sleeping for the night at the 'garden' mosque. One thing I like is that the 'garden' mosque cannot be equalled by another in terms of recitation. But my friends had other ideas like going to a friends apartment in Jalan Ipoh. I had to give in because they were all in agreement, thus after 8 rakaths we left the mosque. Nothing much happened that night except for talking about a few random things. I was startled when all the guys trooped in front me and shouted "HAPPY B'DAY!!"
Then I looked at my watch and said to myself...... "hmmmmmm, so it is." Time 12.40am.
I don't remember what happened beyond that point because I dozed off rather suddenly. From where I got that sudden sleepy breeze, I really don't know. Woke up for sahur, prayed, then slept again to only wake up past noon. During the times I was awake most of it were spent on reflection. The results are....
I have not managed to secure a proper job after graduating from university.
All of my efforts in achieving a class and not to mention a department ranking have been in vain.
My immediate graduate life is nothing worth celebrating or jumping for joy.
I have no idea about my next move and thus at crossroads.
I am seriously evaluating the rationale behind why people do somethings that they do.
Other guys were more excited about my b'day than I was, which was very strange.
Everything around me seems to hang by a thread, and a small jolt is enough to upset the whole apple cart.
There is more but I doubt my ability to stomach it all.
The guys wanted to buy somethings because a few were are going home for Eid. Others who weren't going had already made plans to send things through their friends. It all started when a friend sealed a deal to buy a shoe only to find out the pair brought later was a size smaller. Then he promised the seller that he would return after ifthar to buy the shoe, and all of us left China Town from the rear. After ifthar, we entered China Town the same way, from the rear, then my friend got a better deal on the same pair of shoes. While sealing the deal with this other chap the earlier seller happened to come and notice us there. Obviously, he would have been pissed off, anyone would. As we were walking away after my friend had bought the shoe, the rejected seller came behind us shouting to stop. It later escalated into an argument, which we all thought may turn ugly. So, none of us put our two cents into their argument. It's was a sensible decision my friend took in not talking back to this guy because he was really looking to start a fight. My friend started walking away while the Chinese dude started yelling profanities, and a for few minutes we were the centre of attention. If my friend had got hit, then we would have to go to his aid, which will also prompt other sellers to do the same. End result will for sure have been 5 seriously injured foreigners, one celebrating his b'day, ending up in a hospital. Talk about an eventful b'day, huh?!!?
I was relieved to reach home since I had just escaped being seriously injured, or maybe even killed. I only wanted to sleep and wake up for sahur the next morning. When I pulled out my mattress I felt it being a little damp, then on closer inspection found out most of it was wet. That's what happens when you leave your mattress near an open window exposed to the elements, which in this case happened to be the rain. It ended my blissful hopes of going into slumber.
After mignight on the 13, two friends came to our place and that resulted in me playing cards into the wee hours of September 14. I mean, its not like you can tell them to go because you want to sleep!! After having sahur at Idaman I came back home to pray and just went to sleep on the floor- desperate times call for desperate measures, or so they say. Sleeping for about 205min is hardly refreshing, but you can't give that excuse to your boss. Most of yesterday was spent in replying to all the wall posts on fb- a total of 125!! That sort of made me feel good, I think, but can't be certain though.
Today at 5.30am a friend called from home base, a surprise in no small way, and perfect timing too since no one had woken up for sahur. During the call, lasting about 40min, I managed to eat a few dates and drink some water. I told him of my situation, plans, close encounters, depressing moments and much more; so did he. I must say that was a nice way to start off the day.
Here I am then........ 24 years on with nothing of value to show. Shit!!!
This Tuesday was the first time I didn't wake up for sahur, or shall I say woke up at 6am. When I looked at the time my eyes were immediately awake, not an ounce of drowsiness. Better yet, none of my roomies woke up either, which was utterly even more shocking. But there was nothing I could do except pray and get on with the day's work. Surprisingly though, I got through the day in better condition than most days I ate for sahur. It must be the hand of God easing my pain and suffering because I was expecting the worst. The only consolation was being invited for ifthar that day by a family friend of mine.
One thing I look forward to is an invitation for ifthar, lunch, dinner or any engagement that will end by serving food, and that too from the motherland. God, how I miss that food during this time of year. It has been 5 years since my last Ramadan at home, and not knowing when such a time will come again. I really miss my mum's beef porridge (referred back home as 'kanji') after ifthar due being accustomed to it over the years. There were also other treats like samosas, rolls, cutlets and much more. I can, however, have ifthar without it because that's what I've been doing ever since my university phase. However much food I find, it's nothing like home. Even though, there may be little food on the table all of it would taste divine. The feeling of sharing an ifthar with family, to me, is the best thing on earth.
I'm more into doing ifthar at home; mother is always making something 'special' for my brother and I. During the last few years I helped mum to prepare food the best I could. After all, I was a boy and we used to do only trivial chores as compared to the ladies who took on the lion's share. Call me old fashioned, but I don't intend on changing any of my preferences. Looking at ifthar from a cultural angle, many back home seldom patronise restaurants. To me comfort is of utmost importance, which in a restaurant I can't have. Plus, I prefer home cooked dishes for ifthar since that's the way my family's being doing it for ages.
I intend on allocating more points for possible future suitors who are skilled in culinary art (I'm planning to have a score sheet along with a few more essential qualities) ;). It means I will go only so far on the cooking track!!!
Now coming back to present....
As we started eating after azan, the food just seemed to glide down my throat. Thus far, it is the best ifthar I've had on foreign soil, no doubt about it. Samosas, pastries, rolls, fruits, sherbert drink; only thing missing may have been my actual family sitting around me. It was as if I went home to do ifthar!! I could only sum it up in one way- gastronomic. Looking back, I think there is so much I'm missing out, or have missed by now in the name of further education. I hope there will be a time for me to catch up?!?
As a fact, I know this all too well, and that is time waits for no one.
I can't for the life of me understand why people are already celebrating when fasting is hardly over?? I'm not the type to rain on anyone's parade, but what gives!! Just last week, I heard songs being played in many shops as if the big day will vanish all too suddenly minus the proper fanfare.
So, what's new?? I think everyone should start a random entry this way, just for fun. :)
With an idea of increasing my chances of securing a 'proper' job, I have applied for a professional course in IBF (Islamic Banking & Finance). Although, at first it was not my intention of entering this field, due to all the disputed industry practices clashing with theoretical norms, later I thought of seeing what it has to offer. The course also gives out scholarships, thank God, one of which I'm hoping will come my way.
In the home front things are looking pretty well because quite a few people are handing down a few stuff to fill up the empty place. We even got a stove from my family friend who encouraged us to start cooking. We are hoping to get down n' dirty, expect eventual screw-ups, not to mention adopt a trial-and-error philosophy in all culinary endeavours. I love the culture of hand-me-down's as long as whatever handed down is in good condition.
Some people have started advertising for ifthar as well. The following words "bukanberbukabiasa' are from a notice which I saw about a week ago. Looks like people are getting bored of the conventional style and are set to try something new. Seriously, bukanberbukabiasa?!!?
There is no feeling of being in the clouds this time as before. It was this time last year, beyond my better judgement, that I allowed myself to be drawn into a lady. Attempts were made to catch a chance encounter, or better yet have a live audience with her friends. Ahhhh.... those were the days!! I must be honest, the systematic planning along with dreaming of 'what if' situations were very interesting. As of currently, everything is more of a stalemate. It's not that now I wish it had worked out, but rather, the whole episode taught me an important lesson.
The lesson- thy time is not now, thus take a breather under the shaded tree of patience. Thou has obligations overdue, which ye must fulfill to the best of thy ability. There is a lot to be done, to be achieved, to be gained; now is the time.
Habitually, I'm a person who never thinks about how things could have been different because it's beyond human comprehension. Those intricacies are better left to God, and His infinite wisdom. Whatever transpires will be in my best interest, although it can be perceived differently as well.
Being the only bachelor in your workplace doesn't help either. Everyone wants to know if there is 'someone' in my life. I declared early on to everybody that there is no such 'someone', and put an end to speculation. Two of my friends -both having studied in the same place as me- went to the motherland to get hitched. All I can say is 'good luck!!' During their dating period the guy started to show improvements in his academic standing, which was quite stunning to all the guys; he was in the Dean's List ever since. Many of us gave credit to the girl thinking she had made an immense impact on the chap because it was the only variable.
Hmmm...... how about that folks!! Can a lady turns things about with her charm??
I like this song for many reasons my heart cannot sum up in words. Plus, I have found a new singer whom I intend to follow in time to come. Honestly, I don't feel like listening to any other music these days. It's like suddenly I have no liking for the songs and singers whom I liked before. I'm on an all out nasheed downloading spree!!
I went to the uni mosque for Friday prayers, the one place that I love the most. I can remember the times my friends and I used to nap over there. It all happened when we first arrived in Malaysia long time ago, and it was a new thing for us. Back in the motherland no one is allowed to sleep in mosques- never. Listening to the sermon made me realise how stale things have become. A fiery sermon is what I want; one full of examples, practical approach, recollection etc. Instead of that, I see the Imam reading from a text, which he couldn't do properly either. Flow of the speech was very monotonous, it hardly had any high points. So, what's the point in delivering one, and that too in a place like the 'garden?' Another thing is sermons in Arabic, which only a certain portion of the congregation understand. Then your only choice is to wait until the Imam calls for prayer.
Fasting has made Muslims lazy as I found out today when in my faculty general office. I had to get some copies certified along with those of two other friends. When I asked the secretary to certify it for me she inquired the number of copies. I answered as 9 copies. She then told me to get it signed from any lecturer I know because apparently they certify things only on Wednesdays. What would happen to those who can't make it on a Wednesday?? Boo-hooo, tough luck chum. I ask you, how hard can it be to stamp 9 copies? Answer- hardly takes more than 10 min. I gave the copies to the office because all the lecturers I knew were out, then I had to pick them up at 2pm. The Muslim world is surely not going to prosper with such a work ethic. Ironically, the 'garden' is fostering an idealism that is contrary to the practice.
While waiting for the bus in Idaman this week I saw a vendor selling kuih. It was the kuih that is green on top and has rice at the bottom. To me, it tastes like a rice dish back home sans the green topping, and I have no clue what its called. Having said that, the kuih drew my attention many times because I kept on glancing at it from time to time. I wanted to buy some for ifthar. Then I purposefully thought of not buying it since I want to feel the despair in not enjoying something I like. I thought of people who don't have the means to buy food they like, but see it in front of them. How crushed would they feel? Not to mention the anguish of a person who is already in hunger. Many people have got the wrong idea about fasting, I think. Would u believe me if I tell you that people consume more in this month, than any other month of the year?? Believe it!!
I have made a solemn pledge regarding this holy month. That is to derive all of its goodness and comprehend what it's trying to teach or impart on man. My journey is to feel the suffering, the pain, the anguish which is not felt on any other day or month. Be closer to God as much as possible because I too have strayed knowingly and unknowingly. To cleanse, purify and reform my mind, body, heart and soul.
Insha Allah.........I hope God will show me the way.
This weekend turned out to be very eventful for a lot of reasons. Firstly, my friends and I were gearing up to move into an apartment after 4 years of uni life. There was a pinch of liberation sprinkled into the air because from now on no more campus rules. The apartment, actually it's an office place we are going to convert into a house is quite alright. Honestly, we have water, sanitation, a roof and all other essential components needed to reside like human beings. Having said that, I know there are millions who don't even have what we do right now. Praise the Lord for His benevolence upon us.
On Sunday, the three of us (who have been roomies for the past 4 years) took on a challenge of immense proportion. Giving a thorough clean to the new place took every ounce of energy. At that time we realised that the floor is slanted after pouring water to clean it. God, why are people so careless and cheap?? It took a few hours to sweep the entire place, cleaning the floors along with the bathroom, not to mention mopping, and finally doing other small things like the windows etc. Our attempts to find a lorry turned futile it being the weekend and next day Merdeka. Still we kept on trying nonetheless. Finally, Monday night we managed to borrow a friends van and had to do a few trips to and fro, not to mention dodging the police check points en route. Seriously, none of us had a license!!
Do you want to know my opinion about moving? I absolutely without a nanosecond of thought hate it!! Like they say in the movies "I'm too old for this shit." Carrying all the accumulated belongings of three people for the past four years took a significant toll on everyone's muscles, back and other body parts; all of it were carried four stories. If you happen to say "ouch" after this, you have no idea about the strain caused. Furniture is non-existent, but the broker did fix a ceiling fan at no extra fee. God bless that Chinese man, and who said they're all about the money?!? Our one and only house asset for the time being. After doing the agreement I would be almost broke, and will be contemplating whether to request for zakat. LOL!!!
If shifting house leaves your finances so low, I can only imagine getting married. This is not to scare or discourage all those people thinking of marriage. Just so all of you know, I'm pro-marriage and think its a lovely thing. I plan on filling my coffers to the brim before getting hitched. Now, please don't scrutinize me.
Everything was done close to midnight, thus all of us (six people, three others who came to lend a hand) took a breather. The three boys had to stay over at our place because going back to uni would only land them with a compound note courtesy of incompetent uni security. We stayed up talking and laying down on our new mattresses, which we found out are of very poor quality. If you raise an eyebrow at this one I got two words for ya- budget constraints. At 3am all of us decided to walk to Idaman to eat, then comeback to pray and sleep. With all the minor aches received a few hours prior we managed to go and comeback in one piece.
The place needs a lot of work, but for now I'm happy that we have some place to stay.
I came across a news item of Muslims protesting against the construction of a kovil. A protest is alright in my book, but what annoyed me is when protesters were parading a cow's head; that to me is really not cool and going over the line. What happened to Muslims being tolerant and peaceful?? I say put all the inconsiderate buggers who did it behind bars. I have a minority mindset when it comes to such issues since my motherland is a Buddhist majority country.
If I ask, if you are really independent, what answer would you give me?? A resounding "yes" or a half-hearted "I think so?" I've been pondering this idea for a long time; since the time I came to Malaysia. To me, independence is a state of mind and not something a person can grasp physically or in any other manner. Many people start talking about independence close to celebrating a country's independence from foreign rule. As a former British colony I'm very much aware of the propaganda. Even after gaining independence, are you in the sense of the word, independent?? If I had to answer the question, the answer would be "no."
Look at it this way, we are all dependent on someone for something. Ultimately, all religious and pious people of all faiths depend on God. So, independence is like a myth; it sounds really breathtaking, but it's not real. The world now is far interdependent on countries than it ever was during the colonial era. It's very evident from analysing the global financial crisis that almost crashed economies (not to mention giving me a sour deal as a graduate). I want to be independent as in be free from all that is superficial: materialism, consumerism (telling people to buy all sorts of products to that will make you feel good), extremist dogma, stereotyping etc. I'm disgusted and fed up with all these nonsense.
The holy month is going well with all the activities that is to be done in this month taking precedence over others. But for the life of me I can't understand why some people are so hypocritical even in the holiest of months. I was seated in the economics canteen last night and noticed a banner with the words 'This is a dating free zone', after that it was 'Allah is watching you.' What made me laugh was a couple surfing right in front of the banner. I'm not blaming the couple because dating has been going on for ages, and it's not like the authorities are worried about it. It irked me more because people who made the banner were also student of university registered club. A perfect situation of blind leading the blind!!
I will say this though, those contributing negatively (apparently some refer to it as the 'garden of hypocrisy and fallacy') towards the 'garden' have no right in referring to it in such a way. Wouldn't it be funny to you if Hitler had stated somewhere denying responsibility for killing the Jews?? Or like Bush saying the prisoners in Guantanamo were well looked after?!?
Last week things took a huge turn, first for the better, then almost for the worse. After going to work for 2 days I came under a heavy headache that later morphed into fever by the next morning. H1N1 being very rampant, I called in sick and went to clinic. While on my way I began to wonder if they would treat someone who is no longer a student (I had done clearance already!!)?? My body started to ache and everything felt abnormally heavy, even my footsteps!! After an examination by the doctor, not to mention medical leave for 5 days, I was ordered to rest and keep away from people. Only last Friday did I realise that I'm going to be a painful recipient of a tooth at the end of my left jaw. Wisdom has not been this painful, I swear. A pat on the back goes to Miss. Psychic for sending me the symptoms of H1N1 at a time when I was fearing the worst. I can only eat from my right side, even then I can't move my jaw as before. Poor me :(
As far as my job goes, there is not much of action going on in the office. Who am I kidding because it only has about 7 people. My first assignment was to draft a Ramadhan appeal brochure in English, which will be distributed for collecting funds. Plan is to disburse all these funds to needy Muslims around the world. I came across a few old photo albums that spoke a lot in terms of images. Bosnia, Afghanistan, Cambodia and a lot of countries were filled inside my brain; people, faces, places seemed to leap out from the album pages. I can't imagine how it must have been to provide relief when on one side there is danger to ones life. I'm very content for the time being as to what I do because there is clarity and comprehension of tasks.
Since the past 2 months I have developed a hate mixed with disgust towards the university hostel administration. Requesting for an extension of stay was entertained in such a way that they wanted my friends and I shift to another location far away and share a cubicle too!! I mean its just utter bullshit. We declined the idea and in the process got a 'transit' room, the condition is nothing short of deplorable. We would have happily paid for our old room, but these idiots said it's not possible. Why is it that I have to deal with so much shit and dumbass people?? I have more to write about my garden of higher learning in due time that will shock many people. Thus, my mates are very actively hunting for a place to rent. Most likely, it seems that moving to a new place would occur during the fasting month whether we like it or not.
As I complete month of working life (working full-time in the guise of part-time), working is nescafe has become a thing of the past. This week onwards I've started working for a NGO focusing on micro-credit and educational programmes. Most of its operations are in foreign countries, but the important thing is that I got a decent job. When I was working in nescafe I was under-employed, while at present I'm under-paid. I don't to make it a big issue because I hope things would get better soon. One thing I've realised is that not all people get that dream job they've been wishing for. Rather, people make due with what they have, or hope for better days to come.
I have satisfaction in my job, even though I'm under-paid, and that is being able to help people in need. The NGO I work for is operating a micro-credit scheme in Acheh for some years, and they also plan to open an office in Egypt to help the people of Palestine. Apart from all this, the NGO would help Muslims anywhere in the world in times of strife and hardship.
There are some nescafe moments I would like to share:
The are-you-kidding-me moment: An international girl walks up to the counter; she was surveying what we have to offer, and mind you it was not her first time either. While I let her do that, I went to take the order of another person. Then I came back to take her order.
Girl- ummm.....do you guys like have latte’s and stuff over here?? (spoken with a really fake accent) I- well, not really. You see...... this not starbucks!!! Why not try and go there? (yes sir, I dropped it like its hot)
Taking egoistic shit was not part of my job description.
The LOL moment: Two guys walked up to the fridge, at that moment I was operating the coffee machine on the other corner. After I was done, I went to the counter in order to total up what these two had bought. One of them had taken a Coke can, while his friend placed a cucumber next to it. Yes, a freakin’ CUCUMBER!!! This chap wanted to buy a cucumber that we use in our sandwiches, which we keep in a separate fridge.
For a moment, I could hardly contain my laughter and tried desperately not to laugh in his face. This has been the best moment so far on the job. I tried my level best to make him understand that the cucumbers were not for sale. Few minutes later, he pointed to an old label on the cucumber shelf that had RM. 1.70 on it. That guy must be real stupid to buy a cucumber for that price. He was a bit persistent if you ask me because even after that he didn’t give up; he tried to sweet talk me into selling the damn cucumber.
The heartbreak moment:
An Indian friend of mine came to nescafe and before I could take his order blurted out "dude.... what the hell are you doing here?!!? I heard you're really good and even have a department ranking!!"
At that moment I felt my heart being squeezed like it was going to stop beating. That really made me go "ouch" inside and I kept on hearing his words over and over again.
The Ms. X moment:
Look who dropped by nescafe one early morning with some her friends. She asked what I was doing in the shop, a very obvious question which I pointed out later (why do people ask that question anyway??). I told her that working in nescafe is only until and find something better to which she said "a proper job." Talk about rubbing it in folks...... and I wondered where all the sympathy went to?!!?
People do many things to survive in order to carry on their lives on a daily basis. Whether that is legal or illegal is a valid issue, but it all comes down to circumstances. Humans all over the world are given the ability to adapt according to their environments and at the same time thrive in it at best. I’ve also found a part-time gig that is very gruelling mentally and more intensive physically.
Where? Here’s a hint- the watering hole of my glorious campus. Go figure, please. As for the wage, I’m very proud to say the management is paying me RM 3.50 per hour. Yippeeee!!! I wonder what’s the minimum wage rate in Malaysia? It’s not that I want to demand more because getting a part-time job itself is a big deal. I mean, one reason for getting the job was the manager is from the motherland. I needed the cash and he offered work; forces of supply and demand of labour at work.
If any of you reading this haven’t worked for 12 hours a day, then stop trying relating to my situation. My longest to date is 14 hours and 30 min, which sucked every ounce of life I had. After closing shop, the manager and I went to get supplies at a wholesale mart in Selayang. When I say wholesale mart, picture a building similar to an airplane hangar stacked to the roof with supplies, and its open 24 hours!!! People were selling things beside the road even past midnight, and right then it hit me. I still had it good, even though I worked 12 hours daily. I appreciated my job, whatever that I was doing, did, or going to do in the weeks to come. Bottom line is this- if it’s an honest job that you sweat to earn a living, then ain’t any shame in that.
Amidst all this commotion, there was also good news. What’s the probability of both good things and challenging situations happening together?? Got no clue. The faculty has nominated me for awards at convo, which to me was far from expected. You’re first nominated by your faculty (only 5 students with the highest graduating cgpa from their respective departments in each semester qualify) in which case they ask you to submit co-curricular activities. Depending on ones co-curricular performance, the graduation committee would choose the person best suited for each award being offered by each faculty. I can say nothing other than this being a blessing from God. Now, my only worry is that I’m good enough to get an award.
I just found out that a friend of mine in Aussie is doing a part-time job to cover his living expenses. By the way he talked about it, many things didn’t add up. After inquiring of his job description I hit the roof. How does working as a busboy in a 5-star strip club sound?? An ethical dilemma indeed!!
P.S- Thank you to the white-collar lady who was kind enough to give me a treat as a gesture of being part of the workforce. I owe you one. Fear not, because I shall in due time treat you to a blue-collar lunch of roti canai and teh tarikh!!!
Around me the environment is very turbulent, unsure, fidgety, not to mention distastefully bleak. I'm still holding on.......holding on to a burning rope of time that will soon have nothing left to feed on. I haven't the slightest idea why I'm still here. Well, one reason is because my father said so. "Let's see what happens" he said, to which I reluctantly agreed not wanting to raise any objection. Most people are moving on now; bulk of the graduates are doing something rather than nothing, except for myself.
My mindset is fixed on doing something productive- anything!! I really enjoyed filling in for a friend at nescafe on Monday. Although it was for 3 hours I was occupied, my mind was racing with numbers, fingers running over the cash register and buttons on the coffee machine, trying to make sure everyone got what they had ordered. I hate not doing anything because to say my life is 'banal' would be an understatement of great proportions. I don't want to spend much time thinking either. I mean when you have such a lot of time how much can you think??
The sharp cognitive reflexes of my mind have withered away, but given the time can be resurrected. Then again what's my objective now? Degree is done, I know what should happen next; it's the stage where you pick out a job that's going to keep you alive. I suppose patience is needed at this time to keep my head stable and calm.
I was waiting for the bus at Greenwood yesterday when a couple dismounted from the motorbike to sit next to me. After a few minutes, I was a victim of second hand smoking, the period that lasted gave me chills. Not because of the smoke, there was another factor. After the guy had finished smoking halfway, the girl got into the act as well. Moral degradation of society just keeps on increasing freakin' everyday. Mind you, I was disgusted, and nothing is worse like hearing a father rape his own daughter. WTF!!! Are these guys out of their minds? I'm told the number of cases reported are only a fraction, meaning it's getting really fucked up!!! I say stone all of the men found guilty- no mercy!!
Going to One Utama on a Sunday can be a painstaking ordeal. It also brought about a landmark moment in which I set foot in that place for the first time, although being in KL for the past 4 years. I've always wanted to see the place, but never actually got around to it. Another lesson to learn is book your tickets in advance when wanting to see an outrageously popular movie- like Transformers. They should also have law for not making malls so huge. In the end, no tickets were available at 5pm or 6pm, which stung a great deal. Ouch!! All that 2 hours of commute for nothing. Freakin' great!!
En route to One Utama, the guys were chatting while waiting for the bus adjoining Kelana Jaya station, I noticed a lady sitting behind us. I was facing the boys while they were seated on one of the benches. As usual, we were speaking in Sinhalese, giving us an advantage saying whatever we desire without the scrutiny. After some time there was another woman who emerged out of the train station who made her way towards us. I must be honest in saying that this woman was extremely pretty, thus making heterosexual male heads turn. All this while I was standing, the woman I mentioned first -the one sitting behind us- acted as if she knew what we were talking. I dismissed the idea after sometime, but still had my doubts. As the pretty lady passed by one of the boys made a hearty comment making us all chuckle. Few seconds later, the woman sitting behind us approached one of the boys on my left and asked "are you Sri Lankan?", and that too in Sinhala!!!
There was a sudden pause, where all of us just couldn't believe our ears. I mean, who would have thought?? Not me, that's for sure. We were all pretty sure she had heard everything including what we said about that pretty lady. Oh well, it was too late to do anything. This incident taught us not to talk in a high pitch next time. On our way back, we got a nice tour of the surrounding area courtesy of the bus- route U82. My......my......the cars in that area are absolutely awesome. At this point, given the choice between a lady and a car, I would without hesitation pick the former.
Now for this week.
Today, I met another of my fathers' contacts about a job. Incidentally, he knew that I'm a Malay through his relations with my father. He is a member of many NGOs and a close friend of the opposition leader. During my chat with him, he spoke of how they plan to "change" things in the local context. But for my safety I will not be talking about it here. Beginning of our meeting he asked me "how many percent of Malay are you?", to which he, himself, gave rhetorical answers like "5 percent, or is it 10 percent?" Then he asked the usual questons like if my parents were Malay, and when I said "yes", he countered my answer with another question to ascertain if they were "pure" Malay. What is this shit all about?? Seriously, I'm getting sick of this because I see no point the matter. I should coin a name for this; let's call it the 'purity problem.'
A man reassures himself by looking at the mirror that everything is fine; everything, as in, his attire. He drags the cuff of his left sleeve to reveal the time- 12 noon exactly. At the door before leaving he tells a prayer and locks the door behind him. A double-check of all necessary items reassures that nothing is missing. As he makes his way out of the building, a reel of moving images of the day before starts to play. There was a call from a lady who called him for an interview; an interview made possible by his father's friend who had contacts in this particular company. The idea of beginning a new phase in his life seemed appealing, while also inferring countless challenges to be faced and how to manage them.
The bus ride took 10 min along with another 30 min for the commute in the train. When he exited the train station at Kampung Baru there was an hour to spare before the interview. With an attitude 'better be early than late' he set about searching for a taxi to reach his destination. However, at 1pm there were hardly any taxi's around, thus making him walk a long stretch of road from the railway station in the midday sweltering sun. It dawned on him, the road he was taking would not lead to main road, instead was a dead-end. He cut across a street which in the end lead him to a road with little traffic. Waiting for over 15 min on the pavement with streams of sweat dripping from his forehead, time was running out. Then he hailed a taxi and directed the driver "take me to Jalan Daud." The driver in return posed another question "where is that?" For this man the misery was only beginning.
Even the taxi driver couldn't find the place, leaving the man to question the driver's competency at his occupation. A sad state indeed!! In the end, with the help of an English speaking local he managed to find the place. While nearing the destination, it occurred to him of how badly the numbering had been initiated in the area. 'Appalling' is too nice of a word. The good news- clock had 15 min to spare.
The interview panel consisted of 3 people (2 males and a female) and held in the company conference room. Starting the interview with a few ominous vibes certainly was not expected. There was the obvious "so, you're a foreigner", followed by "we are instructed to recruit locals", then "are you fluent in Malay?", one more being "all of our communication is done in Malay!!" He soon came to understand that things would not go in his favour. Not knowing labour law too had a negative impact, but it couldn't be directly attributed to him. To conclude, the job in human resource would not be a good fit. But it gets better!!
At the latter stages of the interview, having re-entered the room after leaving it so the interviewers could talk privately, they ask "can you work in accounting??" The man was perplexed beyond his wildest dreams. Either these people cant read the university manuscript stating 'Bachelor of Business Administration', or they had brains the size of peanuts. On his way out of the office he started to ponder why private companies don't use English more?? One thing that came to his mind was insecurity coupled with reluctance to venture beyond once safety zone.
So, what have I been doing all this while? Nothing. Yes, the answer is that simple!! Apart from eating, drinking, lots of sleeping, watching movies and going to gym, there is nothing else going on at the moment.
I must say that trying to lose weight is an uphill battle. But I think that I'm making progress. Slow and steady. One thing with the gym is that it could use an upgrade- for real!! It has been the same way since I started going, like 3 years ago. Although, at one point they did replace a sponge pad on one of the machines. Yippee folks, it ain't gona get any better than this, literally!! I have been making steady improvement on my weight lifting, trying to push myself to lift heavier each time. It's working for me quite well. The trick is to block out that signal coming from your brain refraining you from lifting heavy. You can't get rid of it in a cinch, rather it takes a long time to overcome. If one can control his mind, then lifting heavy weights would be much easier.
Another things is, I hate all this weight lifting wannabe's. There is a guy who comes to gym wearing leather shoes, slacks and a t-shirt. Is that jackass blind!??! Seriously, I don't get it. Anyone with a keen sense of observation would figure out right away that he is over-dressed. Instead, this moron rolls up the same way every time; talk about an eyesore!! On the other hand, I've also seen some guys who are really impressive and make you do better too.
I was just thinking one day about the kind of guy conversation I could like to have with a woman. What would top my list if a woman could talk about rugby, then maybe weights. Over here women like football, thus a conversation about rugby would be a rarity. Football is ok, but rugby is more manly, that's what I feel. Rugby is a full contact sport, one should be able to handle it as well as dish it out. Damn, I miss playing rugby, it's been ages since I played. I miss crashing into another guy, giving a tackle, running with the ball; basically playing like a team.
Ahhhh......what I would do to play a game rugby. Anything.
This may look too good to be true, but it's funny as hell!!! I got this in my e-mail, and soon after started laughing. I just can't imagine telling people my name in this case. A whole new level of weird!! Someone call DC comics, or is it Marvel comics?? We have a live one folks...... hahaha.
When guys want something from another they let you know about it. Being subtle is a trait not well acquainted with Martians, neither is patience. Due to MB leaving, we decided to host a dinner for all the guys from the motherland. They have a very good way of being insistent and also getting the message across to those who matter. I realised few minutes before dinner that MB had not done this sort of thing before. Evidence was apparent when I saw the plates he had bought; diameter of about 18cm, and they were the "biggest" he could find. That blunder gave precedence to many heckles from all quarters, but MB's defence stood firm saying "those were the biggest plates I found." All in all, the dinner ended without any further unexpected surprises.
Previously, en route to collecting the food, my friend driving the car told me to be "careful" and "on guard." Upon inquiry he said be ready for a 'soak' after dinner, thus wearing old clothes/rags would be appropriate. I tried to talk my way out of it and in the process transfer my portion on to MB, but that fell on deaf ears. When the last of the guys were to leave I went to my friends cubicle to have a chat with MB. Nothing like having all four cubicles in a room occupied by your country mates. After a few minutes I heard 'crack' sound followed by a gooey liquid trickling down my scalp. Seconds later, a piece of egg shell fell to the floor, and right at that moment MB got it smack on the head; two eggs a piece!!! Actually, there had been six, two of them had cracked because of faulty handling. A pity, no?? There I was with pieces of egg shell on my head with yolk dripping down my neck. It was as if Humpty Dumpty along with a friend had fallen on me.
Advantage of having a bald head is that everything can be washed off easily, which was not the same for MB. Both of us were quite jovial after the whole incident, even giving each other 'high five.' I know, it's insanely ironic. MB and I even shook hands with the eggor: person who hit us with eggs, not forgetting to thank him. Weird right?? The person pissed off with all of this happened to be a non-eggee: person who was not hit by eggs, whose room was a disaster. Egg was seen all over his room, and it ain't pretty. I was relieved that I didn't get egged in my room. After mopping the room, cleaning his table along with other objects covered with egg, few minutes of cursing (which made MB and I laugh), everything was back to normal.
Ever since the start of my job search cum self imposed vacation there has not been anything striking that I've done at all. To say this period has been awesome and really cool would be way of deceiving myself. Yes, there have been great moments, but they never last. After sometime you're back to doing the mundane things you used to do. In my case I'm not even doing the mundane activities I used to do earlier like studying. It's not like I miss studying, rather having nothing to keep me occupied. While I was studying, the pace was very fast and often too much to bear, and not its topsy-turvy. It's like telling Usain Bolt to run a marathon, which to him would be extremely infuriating.
MB is getting ready to fly back home because HQ (comprising mum and dad) has made their decision. I told him to make the his last week on foreign soil worthwhile, maybe do something out of the box. Oh joy, the ideas I could give him!!! He will be a changed man for sure once he lands in the motherland. MB accusing me of being a bad influence on him is pretty damning, but then again, he may be a tad bit right. Like they say- "what are friends for?" Due to the current situation we have decided terminate our 'affair' because long distance is never a good choice. LOL!!! Eventually, it was bound to happen and everything should take its course. Looking back on many things, MB is the only person who knows a lot about me from the uni crowd, and vice versa. I'm never the one to tell another everything about myself because there is no need to.
Lately, I have been experiencing hollow moments: a moment in which one feels completely and utterly removed from everything happening around him/her. They have been quite regular and steadily increasing with intensity. It feels like something is consuming me from within and spreading all over my system like a virus. Any form of entertainment doesn't seem to help either. I just hope there is no need to see a therapist who would give a diagnosis saying I'm unstable. Great heavens, what a disaster!!! In order to rid myself of this affect, I leave my room to take a walk to wherever it may be, quite often in the dead of night. Then there is a recurring stomach pain that won't let me be; most agonising due to having a life of its own. I have this awkward feeling that I sound like a hypochondriac?? Arrrrrrghhh.
I finally got around to watching 'The Dark Knight' not knowing what exactly kept me from indulging in it earlier. Hats off to none other than Heath Ledger for a splendid and remarkable portrayal of his character- The Joker. In order to stay in character he had locked himself up in a dark room for entire duration of the film. Talk about dedication of the highest level. All the windows were blackened without letting a single ray of sunlight enter the room. Imagine spending your life for the perfection of a character, that indeed is giving all you have.
Staying in character is extremely challenging, especially during rehearsals for an upcoming drama. Believe me, I know the effort is takes to keep your mind in tune with a character. You have to breath it, feel it, basically live it throughout the entire drama. My love for theatre was ingrained since kindergarten by acting in the year end drama. Later on, most of it withered away until my final year of college. Shakespeare Drama Competition is the most awaited and coveted prize for any thespian in the island; like the Wimbledon for tennis or World Cup for football. All those who entered had to do an original act from the listed plays of Shakespeare given out by the judges. The cast had to literally reverse their imagination to an era in which English was a bit hard on ones tongue in terms of pronunciation.
There were reading sessions, time allocated for articulation, understanding the roles played by each person (spoken and non-spoken), then further analysis on the life and times of that era, cast members reading their lines without any text, not to mention endless days of rehearsals of more than 8 hours. On stage everyone were bare feet, no one was allowed to wear any shoes or slippers. Everyone addressed each other by their stage names, which reinforced the idea of building ones character. To us thespians, the stage was sacred and its boundaries similar to holy ground. In 2004, we missed a final slot only because of going over our time limit of 30 min; except that, we were rocking- so said the judges. I remember crying so much that day (after results were out and even while trying to sleep), and wanting desperately to go into finals.
I have not seen a good play in ages- like in 4 years!!! The play I watched last year performed by some law students didn't come up to expectations. No offense people. Having said that, the only noteworthy portrayal was from the accused wife, who has potential and her crying scene really saddened me. Except for that, the play was rather dull, unfortunately. If I could start acting again that would be splendid. But I wonder how??
In other matters, not being able to attend a friends' wedding is indeed a spoiler. It is more aggravating when you're scraping the bottom of your money pan. Remind me to infuse more effort to securing employment. I wonder if Christmas comes early June when you're in need of money?!!?
Most us have been programmed or hardwired with the idea of infusing a lot of effort towards a particular endeavour, thus resulting on a particular outcome. It has been more than a month since I started looking for employment. After all, it's the only rational thing a person wanting to be independent would do. I've gone to a career fair and an interview, which in both situations nothing materialised. It so seems that companies are avoiding foreigners like the plague. All other things held constant (ceteris paribus), I'm very confident of scoring a job given an even playing field, but we all know that's never going to happen. Due to such odds, it is necessary or shall I say "essential" to request assistance from those you know. Life is a cocktail of what you know, and whom you know. Back home, there would not be a huge crisis because even I have my network of contacts from the school alumni. It is indeed a blessing when "old boys" from your school hold very influential public and private sector posts. Since I'm not in my home country the approach is without question different and a bit jittery.
As it turns out, in my host country titles play a significant role when getting things done. There is also a hierarchy that makes matters less 'complicated'; depending on the number of people one knows along the line. Frankly, I'm very open to a quid pro quo situation, but what worries me is the part of reciprocation. This sounds a bit like economics: nothing in the world is free, everything has a cost. The words "powerful cable" are often used to imply how personal networks can be of immense use, especially in furthering ones agenda. Everything is abused in this world and so are personal networks. But utilising it for something good is alright in my book; God knows thy intentions.
I had to meet one of fathers' long time acquaintances, who extended a helping hand. He is one of those gentlemen who have a title. Goody!!! I really don't know what will materialise out of this because I'm fed up of the whole thing. There is nothing more depressing than to find out someone less qualified than you scoring a job at a reputed company, and being all smug about it too. All I can do is give a weak smile from the corners of my mouth, not forgetting to say "well done" like he/she got it solely on merit. When you are with the same crowd for 4 years, you get around to knowing the ones who perform well, and those who don't. In order to meet him, I had to take the same route reminiscent of my practical training. My God, what a flood of memories that brought on because I never knew they existed in me. It got even better when returning to campus when I met someone from the company I interned- Haji Yusoff. On my last day of work, Haji Yusoff took me to lunch before prayers and said it was to have met me. There we were -Haji Yusoff and I- chatting away in malay like old friends. We took turns inquiring about each other, his car had broke down leaving no other option but to take the train. Before he got off I told him "jaga diri ok" to which he said "Insha Allah" making my day unexpectedly warm and bright. Doesn't get better than this, or does it!?!
At Masjid Jamek, I bought curry puffs from a boy -who looks barely a teen- like most mornings on my way to practical training. Although, it was evening, the boy was there as usual nothing out of place. I can't imagine his life because reaching out to his situation is beyond me. I very dearly hope that his future would be better in time to come. My contingency plan would be activated if nothing productive happens. Thank God...... I have a free ticket to go back home due to the airline offloading us at the last moment (read Flight UL 316).
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.
