The shit never ends....... rather it gets worse.

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.'

The Chosen One

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.

Tsk.....tsk.....a pity indeed!!

Mind Vs. Matter

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.

Have you seen him???

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.

Egged

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.