The Thing on the Tree

I do not believe in ghosts. At least, I do not believe that ghosts, even if they do exist (which I doubt), will deliberately harm or frighten a human being.

When I moved into the house I am currently staying in some 3 years ago, my landlady told me not to take the rambutans from the particular rambutan tree behind the house. We could take the rambutans from the other trees in the house but not from That Particular Tree.

But of course Mr. I-don’t-believe-in-such-nonsense refused to listen and one day, took rambutans from That Particular Tree. Nothing happened. Until night fall.

Suddenly in the still of the night my 2 brown girls started crying, and then howled the night away. My girls do not howl. In fact, that was the first time I heard them howling. Needless to say I freaked out. I said a prayer and hid under the blanket for the rest of the night.

Since that incident, I sometimes get the feeling that there is a presence, a sense of being, a Something in That Particular Tree. It is not always there. But when it is, I feel that I am being watched.

I have to pass That Particular Tree to change the water for the girls. Once in a strange burst of courage, I actually looked up into That Particular Tree. Nothing. Just nerves. Psychology. Over-active imagination. There are no such things as ghosts.

My girls do not howl anymore. But somehow I don’t think it’s because there is nothing to howl about, I think it’s because they have gotten used to The Thing on That Particular Tree. The best part is, That Particular Tree is right at the back of my room, not 10 steps away!

But yes, there are no such things as ghosts. 

Here's to 2011

It’s the last day of 2010!

It was an interesting year for me. I did good at work, I went to India, I went to London, I attended Slash’s concert (he is the best guitarist ever, I don’t care what anyone else says), I ate escargot for the first time (not bad actually), I ran (and most importantly, finished!) a quarter marathon, I started a blog, I took up yoga.

I think I didn’t do too bad. Except that I also broke up with my boyfriend of 6 years. And that is enough to swathe all the good things that has happened this year. No matter what I do, a certain sense of woe follows me like a shadow that will not leave me.

Even as I hope for the best for 2011, I do not know if I will ever really be truly happy again.

The beautiful game

It has been such a long time since they played for the love of the game. No politics. No promise of fame or riches. No back stabbing. No bickering. No racism.

Just the younger generation giving their best for the love of their country, national pride, honour and the game itself. This is us at our best. If only we were like that all the time. We would truly be a force to be reckoned with.

There is hope yet! Well done Malaysia!

Judging beauty

I don’t understand all this obsession about beauty. Society sets the standards, and people being the fools that they are adhere to these standards so that they are considered beautiful. Notwithstanding that the definition and concept of beauty differs from one society to another, that beauty is subjective, that beauty is only skin deep.

I don’t understand why people cannot just accept each other (and themselves) for who they are, regardless of whether society considers them beautiful or not. I don’t understand why people, especially women, must always comment about the looks of other people.

To me, looks have always been immaterial. But of course, I am only human. So when I hear, for example, that ‘certain people’ have made disparaging remarks about me, I was of course offended and hurt. It is only natural. But I did not do anything about it, although I could. And the reason is very simple. I am a rebel. Always have been and always will be. I refuse to be a slave to society’s (and ‘certain people’s’) standards of beauty.

And who are all these ‘certain people’ to judge another person’s looks anyway? Really, have they taken a good look at themselves in the mirror lately? Because in my eyes, these ‘certain people’ fall far short of society’s standards of beauty. And the worse part is, they have little or no character or intelligence to back them up! They should be the last people to comment about another person’s beauty.

Now look at what they’ve made me do! I am judging the judges!

My mother always told me, “If you have nothing nice to say, don’t say anything at all.” I try. I really do. But then ‘certain people’ piss me off and then I get all flustered and there’s no one to vent to so I blog about it.

And so, what is my recipe for beauty? (In this order:) Two cups of (good) character – kind, emphatic, polite, good manners, warm hearted etc, one cup of intelligence, a tablespoon of physical attraction (but please, one man’s meat is another man’s poison), and a pinch of endearing personal habits or traits to taste.

A recipe for disaster? Maybe. But it’s my recipe. And that is why ‘certain people’ will never be beautiful in my eyes. They lack ALL the ingredients that make up my recipe for beauty.

Still sad

It has been approximately 7 months, but I am still reeling from the effects of coming out of a long term relationship.

Most of the time I am ok. I can function like a normal human being. But then there are times when it just hits you. The memories. The good times. The shared life. The pain. The misery. The loneliness. The heartache. The uncertainty. The panic. But most of all, the grief.

And then there is no one to talk to. My parents are of the view that I made the right decision and I should move on. And that is that! Somehow I am supposed to miraculously forget the past, just like that.

Some of my friends are of the view that since I have moved on (because I am dating again), therefore I am ok. Some of my other friends are more engrossed with their own lives to listen to yet another sad story.

Of course I can’t talk to my present boyfriend for obvious reasons.

Ironically, the only person who I think will understand my predicament is my ex-boyfriend. He must be going through the same grief as me. He will know what it’s like. He will be emphatic. He will understand.

But I cannot talk to him either. For obvious reasons. Although he is probably the only one in this world who will know what I am going through.

And so I will continue to grieve alone. For as long as it takes.  

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

It’s that time of year again – the time for celebration, to be with family and friends, to eat and drink and be merry, and to usher in the New Year with renewed vows, hopes and resolutions for the coming year.

And of course, bonus!

This year, about 2/5ths of my bonus went to the lovely Income Tax Department. 2/5ths! It really takes away the joy of getting a bonus.

It’s not as if any of my money is being put to good use. Our roads are full of potholes, our public transport is uninspiring, our buildings are leaking and tumbling down, our public amenities are deplorable. Petroleum prices keep going up, poverty is still an issue, crimes are rampant, corruption is prevailing, civil and political rights are curtailed.

So where is my hard earned money going to, and what is it being used for??

I might as well ask where did all those planes and ships disappear to in the Bermuda triangle. I will never get a straight forward or honest answer.

Or maybe I will - in the form of yet another sky scraper in the heart of Kuala Lumpur. Oh joy.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year everyone!

No big deal, it's only murder

I read in the newspapers today that a man was murdered – slashed to death – not 10 streets away from my house!

Being an ardent follower of crime and detective stories (and once harbouring the ambition of becoming the first woman to head the CID division of the Royal Malaysian Police at Bukit Aman), I just had to check out the crime scene.

And I did. It was a normal house. If not for the yellow line reading “Garisan Polis” I would never have guessed that a murder had taken place at that house just yesterday.

There was no one around. No neighbours hanging around to offer some stories about the victim or the perpetrators, no forensic personnel gathering evidence, no policemen interviewing witnesses, no clues!

And then there was also no eerie cold breeze blowing to somehow signify that the murdered man’s soul was still wandering restlessly around seeking revenge or justice or peace. No birds singing. No trees rustling in the wind. No rain. No drama.

Just another normal day in a sleepy town somewhere in the East Coast. Except that a man was murdered. And then life returned to normal.

I don’t know which is more tragic – a man being murdered in a small town, or the sense of normalcy of it all.

Kuantan

There is no place like home. Every time I come back to Kuantan I feel a sense of peace that nothing else can replace. This is the place where I spent the best years of my life, growing up, discovering myself, making my dreams and ambitions come true, living life.

Like many other small town folk, I chose to work in the big city. I have been a resident of the Klang Valley some 12 years now. And yet, oddly, I still often feel like an outsider, a migrant, like I somehow do not belong.

There is a sense of realness in Kuantan. People love and accept you for who you are, regardless of your shortcomings. Whereas in the big city people tend to be more superficial. I can’t help but think that most people are nice to me not because they really care or because they are nice people, but because there is something in it for them. Of course I have met many nice people along the way, but few and far between as compared to Kuantan.

I suppose there is nothing to stop me from permanently residing in Kuantan. But at the moment the lure of the big city still draws me to its demanding splendour.

Perhaps one day when I am old and tired, when there is nothing else left to achieve, when I am done with the world and vice versa, perhaps then I shall come home permanently. There is, after all, no place like home.

Let children be children

When I was 14, I couldn't wait to finish school so that I could be off to play badminton, netball, volleyball, tennis, cards, marbles, or any other games that we would invent on the spot.

Sometimes we would cycle to far away places and explore untrodden paths, pretend we were police and robbers, princesses and dragons, pirates and swashbuckling adventurers, Hang Tuah and Hang Jebat, you name it!

Sometimes we would just hang out and watch movies or tv, read a detective story, or make up silly songs and sing at the top of our lungs to the annoyance of our neighbours.  

My ambition at that time was to be a renegade pilot of an F-16 plane. My greatest fear was having to show my father my report card. I dreaded school, piano lessons, and anything remotely resembling discipline.

That was indeed a happy time. I enjoyed my childhood. Every minute of it.

And so it pains me to know that some people think it is ok to rob a child out of his or her childhood, innocence, dreams and adventures. After all, we are only young once. Let children be children. There is no need to rush and be an adult. There is plenty of time for that.

We once thought that the Earth was flat. We now know better. We once thought that the sun went around the Earth. We now know better. We once thought that child marriages were the norm. We now know better. Or do we?

Shattered dreams

When I was 16, I had a dream that by the time I reached 30, I would have it all – a doting husband, a couple of children, a sterling career, a big house with a big garden where George, our German Shephard would live and play, a big car, and most importantly, I would live happily ever after.

Coming from the quaint little town of Kuantan, it was quite normal for 16-year-olds to have these kinds of dreams. Because in Kuantan, there was not much one can do, and not much to do. All we had were our dreams, determination and sheer hard work.

I am now past 30. I have no husband or children. I have no house. No big car.  No sterling career. No happy ending.

All things considered, I still think I’ve done well for myself in the big city. Kuala Lumpur, I mean. I have a career of sorts, am financially independent, and am generally able to take care and fend for myself.

Except that I have to tell the 16-year-old girl in me that her dreams are never coming true. And I know it will just break her heart.

Equal but not the same

As it stands now, I am a human being first, a woman second, a daughter third. All the other hats I wear – sister, girlfriend, friend, pet owner, employee etc, may change in the priority ranking with the passage of time, but the first two things that I am has never, and will never change in importance and in priority.

Considering that I am a woman second, I am deeply disturbed by this offence in the Penal Code known as ‘enticing or taking away or detaining with criminal intent a married woman’.

First of all, there is no corresponding provision for enticing, taking away or detaining with criminal intent a married man. This obviously connotes that women are weaker than men as they can be easily enticed, whereas men are strong and therefore cannot be enticed. And yet every year the statistics show that more men have extra-marital affairs than women. Who is really the weaker sex?

Secondly, this offence only applies to married women. So it is not an offence when someone entices a woman who has been in a 10 year relationship with her boyfriend. But it is an offence when someone entices a woman who is married for a day. The difference is a piece of paper called a marriage certificate. How superficial.

I can’t help but imagine that the draftsman who drafted this offence lost his wife to another man. Unable to accept the fact that his wife could leave him for another man out of her own free will, he drafted this nonsensical offence out of agony and spite. In his simple mind, it simply could not have been his fault (for he is, after all, a man!), and it could not have been her fault either (for she is too stupid to think for herself), so he just blamed the man she ended up with.

Women have come a long way and yet archaic legislation like this serves as a grim reminder to all women kind that the battle for equality is far from over.

George Orwell got it right when he wrote “All animals are equal, but some are more equal than others”.

I beg your pardon

The person who coined the adage “sticks and stones may break my bones but mere words will not harm me” was obviously not from Pakistan. Because in Pakistan, mere words can not only harm you, they can kill you!

I am of course talking about the case of Aasia Bibi, a Christian mother who was convicted by the Sheikhupura District Court for blasphemy and sentenced to death. She was charged under a certain blasphemy law existing in Pakistan, after an altercation with fellow farm workers who refused to drink water she had touched, saying that the water was “unclean” because she was Christian. Aasia Bibi had apparently made some derogatory remarks about Prophet Muhammad in retaliation.

In any country with race, religious and ethnic diversity, legal restraints are somewhat justifiable for the greater good of society, i.e. to maintain peace and harmony amid the diversity. If everyone is allowed to say anything about any race, religion or ethnicity with no holds barred, the eventuality is surely chaos, mayhem and anarchy.

I do not have a problem with this so-called ‘blasphemy law’ itself. What I do have a problem with is that a group of lawyers in Pakistan petitioned the Lahore High Court in Punjab not to allow the President of Pakistan, Asif Ali Zardari to pardon Aasia Bibi while her case was pending in the courts.

I understand that Pakistan is a ‘democratic parliamentary federal republic’. I have no idea what that is. But from my limited understanding of the various political systems in existence, the President is the Head of State and is given certain privileges peculiar to the President alone. This usually includes the power to pardon a person convicted of a crime.

I do not know the legal system in Pakistan in detail, but if the power to pardon is an exclusive privilege of the President, then surely the Lahore High Court cannot, and should not, have the power to override that privilege. To me, this screams of a case of separation of powers gone horribly wrong.

The Lahore High Court should have thought about the repercussions of its decisions. I wonder if the Lahore High Court, or for that matter, the group of lawyers who petitioned the Lahore High Court, took into consideration that the next time around, it may be a Muslim who is convicted of this ‘blasphemy law’ seeking clemency from the President. I wonder if they will be just as zealous, or suddenly develop new found mercy for a fellow Muslim.

At the end of the day, isn’t it God’s duty to judge the actions of man?

What an ASS!

I have recently discovered the joys of yoga. Sure, I had heard about how wonderful yoga is, and everyone I know seems to have either done it, or were doing it. Personally for me, I find it a lovely experience. It looks easy but it is really not. It is challenging. I have discovered muscles I never knew I had. At the same time, it is also calming, soothing, relaxing, uplifting.

Except for this one heck of an annoying girl in my class which I shall refer to as Ms. Annoy. I have diagnosed Ms. Annoy to be suffering from acute attention seeking syndrome or ASS for short.

Ms. Annoy likes to interrupt the entire class by asking all sorts of stupid questions and making all sorts of stupid statements. The other day when the teacher asked us to do a particular pose, she said loudly: “This is too easy for me, are you sure I’m doing this right?”

And then today I had the misfortune of being in the same lift with her and all of a sudden she just shouts, “Oh crap!” to no one in particular. I mean, seriously. Are you so starved for attention that you have to resort to talking to yourself? Go see a therapist for crying out loud!

Today in class the yoga teacher was telling us about alternative ways of staying healthy besides taking medication or health supplements. He was telling us about how the combination of cloves, cinnamon and sea salt make a really good and healthy toothpaste when Ms. Annoy announces to the class that she uses toothpaste with cloves.

Hello! I’m really not interested in what you use or what you don’t use. I am interested in learning about health benefits from natural ingredients. However, at every juncture of the teacher’s speech, Ms. Annoy interrupts him to tell us all about how well she takes care of her health. It was bordering on rudeness, interrupting the teacher before he could even finish his speech.

Needless to say I was irritated. And then after class I was talking to a fellow class mate about what we learned today when Ms. Annoy, whistling loudly, walked right in between us! There is plenty of space in the room for her to walk out of the room without interrupting our conversation. But of course if she did that we would not have noticed her. And as Ms. Annoy is suffering from ASS, she has to be noticed.

Ms. Annoy reminds me of what my Land Law lecturer once told us in class : “The world is like a fruitcake, it is not complete without a few nuts in it.” I found a nut in my fruitcake all right!

Really, yoga is meant to be peaceful. And I am beginning to think that I will never achieve the desired sense of peace, calmness and relaxation with Ms. Annoy around.

What an ASS!

Where are the authorities when you need them??

I have the misfortune of residing in a house just at the back of MBPJ and the PJ Civic Centre. Today there is some PKR function either in MBPJ or the PJ Civic Centre. I don’t know and I don’t care.

All I know is that there are cars parked on both sides of the street, which means a two way street has now become so narrow that only one car can pass at any one time. The authorities should have either closed the main road so that there can only be one way traffic, or alternatively, stopped people from parking on both sides of the street. Neither has been done. And the result: chaos!

I had to wait 20 minutes just to get to my house from the main road, a distance of about 300 metres. And then when I finally reached my house, some monkey had parked right in front of my house! All I could see in the monkey’s car were 2 pairs of legs. Sounding the horn did no good.

So I had to get out of my car and knock on the monkey’s car window, whereupon the monkey awoke from his deep slumber and proceeded to very slowly move his car away from the entrance of my house. No apologies. No remorse. Just a look of irritation for having been disturbed from his sleep.

I then parked my car in the house and when I went to close the front gate, lo and behold! The monkey had parked his car in front of my house again! I politely told him that he was blocking my entrance, and how am I supposed to go in and out of my own house?? Nonchalantly, he tells me that he will only be there for a while as he is waiting for someone. That was 45 minutes ago.

Seriously, whatever happened to civic consciousness? Don’t they teach pendidikan moral or agama in schools anymore? Isn’t it common sense not to park in front of people’s houses?

This is not the first time this is happening and it certainly won’t be the last. Whenever there is a function in MBPJ or the PJ Civic Centre, there will be a traffic jam just outside my house, and I will have to spend 20 minutes getting into or out of my house.

The authorities will continue to be blind to all of this because they are of course benefitting from the rental of the MBPJ or PJ Civic Centre halls. What do they care about inconveniencing residents like me when there is all this money to be made. The best part is, all this illegal parking is happening right under their very noses!

I am now trapped in my own house!

Cosmic retribution

The other day I saw a dog knocked down on a busy street. Most of his stomach was on the road, but the saddest part was that he was still alive! And in his last moments alive, he was all alone – nobody to comfort him, to ease his pain, to love him.

It broke my heart. I still can’t understand why any creature should suffer, especially to the extent of this poor dog. What did he ever do to deserve such suffering?

Of course if one believes in karma like I do, the answer is very simple. The dog was paying for all his sins committed throughout his life on earth, including his sins of the past. Cosmic retribution.

But it still broke my heart.

Letter to my darling

Dear darling,

The 6 years we spent together were the best 6 years of my life. So many trials and tribulations, but we always managed to get through it all. In the end it was always laughter and joy.

I took great solace and comfort in the fact that no matter how bad my day was, no matter how low my spirit was, no matter how despairing the situation was, I would always come home to you. Into your arms, the only place I felt safe all these years. All my troubles would just evaporate the moment I saw you.

To say that I loved you is an understatement. I could not imagine life without you. I imagined growing old with you. You shaped who I am today. Today I am who I am, and where I am, because of you. I could never have come this far in my life without you.

And then the unthinkable happened. I lost you. And in losing you, I’ve not only lost a boyfriend, I’ve lost my best friend, the better half of me, my twin, my husband. And now I have nothing left. I am nothing. 

 

I am sorry I wasn't strong enough to hold on to you. I suffer from the same frailties that besiege so many human beings - I am weak. For us to be together meant that I had to be strong enough for the both of us. But I am not. I do not have the strength to go on fighting the entire world just to be with you. I stopped fighting. I am so tired. And so I have lost you.

 

Some people say that love will conquer all. But the harsh reality is that sometimes, once in a blue moon, love alone is not enough. What are the odds of that happening to us!

 

I don’t know what the future holds. I don’t know whether I can make it through life without you. All I know is that I love you but I have lost you. And life as I know it will never be the same again.  

 

How I wish I could take you away to a fantasy world where there is only you and I. What bliss! You won't ever have to worry about any of the ills that plague you. And I will be free to hold you, cherish you, love you! We will not be judged. We will have each other. For eternity.

 

Perhaps one day in the future when the world is more forgiving, or when you have found your own strength, or when I have found enough courage and strength for the both of us - perhaps we can be together. And then it will be forever.

 

Till then, I am yours truly,

 

Your darling Sheila.

He said, She said

He said:

“I have loved her for 6 years. Purely, sincerely, genuinely and loyally. I gave her the encouragement to pursue her dreams, and the freedom to maintain her own identity. Yet I also held her hands and her heart whenever she needed assistance, reassurance, comfort. I gave her everything that I had. I gave her all of me.

Just because I did not ask her one damn question she has now left me. She just left. One minute she was dwelling comfortably within the recesses of my heart. The next minute she was gone. Before I could even begin searching for her she had attached herself to another’s heart.

How is that even possible? How can she claim to have loved me when it was so easy for her to love another? Did I mean anything to her at all? Did I not love her enough? Can a mere question be so important?

Was my love not good enough for her?”

She said:

“I have loved him for 6 years. Truly and honestly. I would have left everything behind for him. I would have given up everything for him. I would have fought the world for him.

After 6 years, I wanted to begin a new chapter in our lives. He did not. Or could not. I really don’t know. Having arrived at a forked path in my life I had to decide. So I made my choice. Despite that, I can never truly love another. Not like I loved him. He meant everything to me.

How difficult is it to ask me a question he already knew the answer to? Why couldn’t he? Am I not worth it? Did he really love me? Did he have doubts? Did I not love him enough?

Was my love not good enough for him?”

Psychopaths

Is there such a thing as a ‘kill gene’? Some studies have shown that some psychopaths have some form of physical or chemical imbalance such as low serotonin, increased levels of toxic heavy metals for example manganese, lead, cadmium, copper etc in their systems, brain damage, head trauma, exposure of the fetal brain to alcohol or drug abuse or to other toxic substances, etc.

I think most people desperately try and find distinguishing factors between psychopaths and normal human beings, because most people find it hard to believe that psychopaths can also be normal human beings like you and I. There has to be a difference.

But what if there are no differences? What if we are exactly the same, and the only reason why most people don’t act out their psychopathic tendencies is because they have learned to control these tendencies through upbringing, religion, morals, etc?

It’s actually quite a scary thought. Because that would mean that we are all psychopaths. Or at least, in the depths of our beings, we are all capable of being psychopaths. We are only controlling our natural, instinctive tendencies.

This is tied to the perennial question – are we all born good and learn to become evil due to our surroundings, or are we all born evil and learn to become good due to our surroundings?

I find this a really fascinating topic.

Hilarious!

Today I would like to share a joke that was forwarded to me. It's hilarious!

At a United Nations Assembly, a representative from Israel began:

"Before beginning my talk I want to tell you something about Moses. When he struck the rock and it brought forth water, he thought, 'What a good opportunity to have a bath!   He removed his clothes, put them aside on the rock and entered the water. When he got out and wanted to dress, his clothes had vanished. A Palestinian had stolen them."

The Palestinian representative jumped up furiously and shouted, "What are you talking about? The Palestinians weren't there then!"

The Israeli representative smiled and said, "And now that we have made that clear, I will begin my speech."

Words

The pen is mightier than the sword. Some words once spoken have the ability to destroy relationships, friendships and even blood ties.

Poisonous words have the tendency to seep through one’s blood stream and dwell quietly in a deep, dark, desolate corner of one’s heart. No apology no matter how sincere, and no good deeds, no matter how genuine, can obliterate the venom that has taken root in one’s heart.

And even if one chooses to forgive, one does not, or cannot, forget the words that caused one to hurt in the first place.

Which is why it is of the utmost importance to choose one’s words carefully, no matter how angry one is or no matter how dire the situation is. Because if one chooses to be careless with the words one utters, one must be prepared to forever live with the consequences.

There is a line to be drawn when it comes to speaking one’s mind. When one’s words are capable of inflicting harm on others, one should refrain from speaking those particular words. There are always other words that will also get the message through, albeit more subtly, thus causing less harm.

Once the line is crossed, there is no turning back. The damage is done. The poison is forever etched within the abyss of one’s heart. Sleeping. Lingering. But eternally present.

Feminine charms

My first instinct when something goes wrong is to be defensive. To fight for my rights.

(Examples : (1) I’m sorry, there’s something wrong with the ATM machine – that’s not my problem, I want my money and I want it now! (2) You can’t park here – Why not? I don’t see a no parking sign! (3) We’re closed for today – if you’d told me that yesterday, I wouldn’t have wasted my time isn’t it!)

It works most of the time, but it leaves a bad taste in my mouth as well as the person at the receiving end. For me because I get all worked up and hot and bothered and then I need to cool down. For them because no one appreciates being scolded, especially if it’s not their fault.

Well, today I learned of another way of getting things done my way. I used my feminine charms! And the best part is, it worked! It happened quite by accident – I wasn’t feeling well today. So my guard was down and I was just too weak to argue or fight. So I guess I must have sounded like a damsel in distress. Problem solved!

I am one of those who strongly believe that people should not benefit, or be disadvantaged, by reason only of their gender. Hence, I refused to use my feminine charms to get things done or to get away with things. Sure, that meant that I had to fight for almost everything in my life, but it was worth it because in the end, people actually took me seriously. A person of substance, merit and worth.

Parallel to that, I never thought much of women who used their feminine charms to get things done, or to get away with things. Weaklings.

But just think – if I can get things done or get away with things without getting myself worked up and without getting the other person worked up, what’s the harm in that? Do I lose anything by being – well, by being a woman?

Absolutely not!

But I’m guessing it would take a while for the fighter in me to stand aside and let the woman in me emerge.

So long, farewell!

He is timeless. Ageless. Faceless. And I have loved him for the past 12

years.

Some people say he is just making use of me. Whilst giving me comfort, solace,

companionship and relief, he takes away my youth, vanity, vitality and

self-respect. But I disagree. These people have never met him.

They don't know him like I do.

I have defended him throughout the years with a ferocity that only the

beloved will understand. And in return, he has stood by me as only a true

friend can. Through the good times, the bad times, the heart aches, the

pain, the misery, etc. He never left me. He was always there.

And now I must say goodbye to him. All good things must come to an end.

Even as I lay him down gently for the last time, I knew I would miss him.

He was 12 years of my life. He dwelt in the very heart of my soul. He was

my conscience, my inner strength, my sanity.

"What will I do without him!" I thought as I stubbed out my last cigarette.

An ode to aliens

The parking attendants at the car park where I park my car are both from India. Within a week or two of their arrival in Malaysia, they have learned to speak Bahasa Malaysia well enough to converse with the patrons of the car park. One of them only recently obtained his driving license, and prior to that, he had never driven a car in his life. He now maneuvers the cars in the car park as if they were elastic, moving them from impossible angles without a scratch on any of the cars.  

The two of them share one room with two and sometimes three other foreigners. Needless to say, they earn a meager salary which is a windfall for them as a result of the foreign exchange rate. Rain or shine, they wait at their stall which consists of a table, 2 chairs and an umbrella. They work from 8.00 a.m. until the last person removes their car, they cannot leave in between in case someone wishes to remove their car which is blocked by another car.

They endure such challenging circumstances for the sake of earning a living, to make their lives a little bit more comfortable when they return to India.

And yet, under such strenuous circumstances, they still manage to smile and share light jokes with the patrons of the car park.

In the eyes of society, I may be seen to be more successful than them, but in terms of evolution, they are more successful than me, because they have mastered the art of survival.

Excerpts of a broken heart - Part 2

29^th May 2010. That was the day I said goodbye to the love of my life. My boyfriend, my best friend, my partner in life. We were supposed to be married 3 years ago. Then 2 years ago. Then last year. Then in March this year. Then in May this year. Then in October this year. 29^th October 2010. My wedding day.

 And then it all ended. Some people say I had waited all these years, why not just wait a few months more? Because it just wasn’t going to happen. October will come and go. No wedding. Then it will be next year. Then the following year. And on and on.

I am tired. You are either sure of someone or you’re not. I was sure about him. He says he’s sure about me but I have my doubts. I know I’m not perfect but I don’t think I’m all that bad. So what is wrong with me? Why won’t he marry me?

He is also imperfect but he was perfect for me. He was the best. No one else can ever measure up. And I have lost him.

Excerpts of a broken heart

In just 4 months, I have managed to lose my boyfriend cum best friend, and 2 good friends. There are times in your life when you must make decisions that will change the course of your future. In my case, it was the decision to leave my boyfriend of 6 years. Which eventually led to the loss of 2 good friends. Decisions rarely exist in a vacuum. They have consequences. If only I did not leave my boyfriend, I would still have him and 2 of my good friends.

But sadly the deed is done. One minute I was on the brink of starting a new phase in my life – marriage, children, a home, the works. The next minute I’m literally all alone. I’m far away from family, and all my friends have lives of their own. The last thing they need is a depressed soul burdening them with my sorrows.

So here I am, alone. I feel invisible. I can see the world passing me by but somehow nobody sees me. I am insignificant. Faceless. A dot in the world. Unwanted. Unloved. It is really heart breaking.

I can't stand double standards!

Today I’d like to air my disappointment, contempt and disgust towards a certain Club that I am unfortunately a member of. Not by choice, mind you. Equally unfortunately, at the risk of being sued, I am unable to reveal the name of this Club (which is not really a club), or why I am a member of this Club despite my obvious odium for this
Club.

My discontentment stems from the double standards practiced by the Club. To illustrate, here are 2 scenarios.

Scenario 1

Member A is found guilty of breaching certain Club rules, and is suspended from the
Club for a period of 3 years. Member A challenges the Club’s decision in a higher forum. The higher forum affirms Member A’s guilt but reduces the sentence to a fine, thus effectively restoring Member A’s membership in the Club.

Disgruntled, Member A sues the Club Management and every other member of the Club who Member A thinks is responsible for Member A’s suspension. Nasty allegations, unwarranted accusations and personal attacks are thrown into Member A’s claim which are all aimed to embarrass, discredit and belittle the Club more than anything else.

Due to the frivolity of Member A’s claim, Member A’s claim is dismissed, and Member A is ordered to pay costs to the Club for having to defend itself against Member A’s claim.

Member A then seeks indulgence from the Club to waive the costs order made against Member A. One would have thought that after all the mud slinging, name calling and damage done to the Club’s reputation by Member A’s claim, the Club would snub Member A’s cry for mercy.

However, in a surprising turn of events, the Club agrees to consider Member A’s request.

Scenario 2

X (a non-club member) sues Member B for using the latter’s position as a member of the Club to cheat X. Within the perimeters of the Club, Member B is found guilty of cheating X and is ousted from the Club.

Under the Club Rules, X is entitled to claim compensation from the Club as a result of Member B’s indiscretion, provided that X complies with the procedures prescribed for making such claims for compensation.

X does make a claim for compensation with the Club, but unfortunately the claim is not in accordance with the prescribed procedures put in place by the Club. The Club therefore does not entertain X’s claim.

Dissatisfied, X files a claim in a higher forum that X is entitled to be compensated by the Club despite not having complied with the Club’s claims procedures.

Obviously, X is unsuccessful in its claim against the Club and is ordered to pay costs to the Club for having to defend itself against X’s claim.

Having paid 80% of the costs to the Club, X seeks the Club’s indulgence to waive the balance 20% of the costs payable to the Club, especially since X has in fact suffered loss at the hands of Member B.

In a surprising turn of events, the Club refuses to indulge X’s request and demands for payment of the balance 20%.

Any fool with half a brain can see that X deserves indulgence and not Member A. So why the double standards? Because Member A is still a member of the Club and thus one of the Club’s own? Because X is not a member of the Club through no fault of its own? (Of course, I  must add that the Club claims to stand as a bastion of hope, peace and equality to all and sundry, not just its members).

Either way, I just don’t see the rationale or justification behind the Club’s decisions. I cannot air my grievances directly to the Club because the Club is fully capable of making my life very difficult.  

Hence, this blog.

I am a human being

Recently  I had the misfortune of being with friends who were talking about
race.  These  two friends were Ceylonese, and it amused me how they were so
quick to differentiate and distance themselves from Indians.
Among others, they claimed that Ceylonese were in many ways a more superior
race than Indians. Regular Ceylonese Hitlers they are if you ask me.

I  do  not  intend to debate on which race is more superior. As a matter of
fact,  I  really  do  not  care if I am considered ‘inferior’ because of my
race.

Whether one chooses to believe that we are all the product of Adam and Eve,
or  that  we  are  all the product of evolution, the fact remains that we all
came  from  the  same  source.  And  that makes us all human beings. In the
bigger  scheme  of  things,  does it really matter what race we are? In the
final  analysis,  it  is not our race, skin colour or religion that defines
who  or  what we are, but whether we have been good or bad human beings. At
least, that is what I choose to believe.

And that is why I choose to be a human being. A good one. (I try)