July 18, 2014

What Are We Fighting For?

As I write this, it’s been almost 24 hours since the first reports came of a Malaysia Airlines jet shot down over Ukraine hit the headlines.

As I write this, Israel has invaded Gaza.

As I write this, scores of other atrocities and injustices are happening across the world. Atrocities and injustices that are happening because we have forgotten our purpose here on earth.

This is a tragedy beyond belief and I have no words for it. I am numb beyond my senses and speechless over the loss of yet so many innocent lives. I cried for a long time and into my sleep. So many lives who will never see their dream come through, so many lives who will not see their goals met and so many lives who could have contributed to humanity and the health of this world lost forever.

My heart bleeds to hear of yet another daughter or son asking when mummy or daddy coming home, knowing that it's the most heartbreaking answer  to give and the silence and the tears that follows. 

No goal, no vision, no struggle, no believe and no conviction is able to justify this loss. How many more daddies are not going to come home anymore? How many mummies and sisters and brothers are never going to come home?

I wondered when we would ever stop our penchant for anger, hate and war. I grieved for children and families in conflict zones. I grieved for the lives lost due to anger, hate and war that were happening around the world. It's not just planes that are shot down, it's people in planes. People in homes. People in trains, on beaches, in buildings... People...

At the end of the day, everything that we are willing to fight for in this world, nothing remains. Our lives are transitory bits. Nothing in this world that we live, cry and die for so passionately in the name of family, ethnicity or even politics will remain with us when we meet our Maker.

Our soul mates, our family. Our prized possessions. Land. Diamonds. Money. Everyone and everything on earth perishes in the end and we are left with nothing but our souls and our connection with the Divine.

And repeatedly, we have fallen. Fallen prey to the 5 thieves that are present in any human being. Lust, rage, greed, attachment and ego. We have allowed these thieves to take control of our senses. Under the guises of name, nationality, ethnicity and religion, under the excuse of acquiring "what rightfully belongs to us", we have allowed ourselves to become divine beings filled with anger, greed and pride.

If we can learn something from the MH17 tragedy, it is that human greed and pride never pays. Greed for more land, more power. Ego and pride in wanting to be the best, in wanting to be in control. But greed and pride lead to nothing but loss. Loss of life. Loss of our very own conscience as human beings who were put on earth to lead, protect and thrive.

So, together with other peace-minded individuals and groups, I choose to pray. To pray for souls, living and at rest. To pray for peace and hope amidst suffering. To pray for forgiveness. To pray for kindness. There is enough anger, hate and nonchalance in the world as it is. Let’s choose and pray for love instead.

Rest in peace my brothers and sisters of the world as time will heal and but you will never be forgotten. 



May 31, 2014

Anti Chick Flicks

Chick flicks? Oh I hate chick flicks. They’re so full of unrealistic relationships and pretty gals and cute men who happen to be rich, romantic and understanding.

The other thing I hate about chick flicks is that they create “chick flick syndrome” in women and gullible girls.

Chick flick syndrome results in girls being alone and single because they are day-dreaming about a knight in shining armour.

How do you know you have chick flick syndrome?
Answer these questions:
           You believe in chance encounters with strangers (this means bumping into someone at book stores!).

            You have a vision of an ideal man. You have never been in a serious relationship or hardly ever.

            You believe you will mysteriously hit it off with him and sparks will fly, and you will get butterflies in your stomach and you will just know he’s special.

      You believe that sometimes when you argue with a guy, the two of you will turn into a romantic pair.

      You believe he will woo you and do everything he can to attain you while you casually go about your business and at some point you’ll fall hopelessly in love with him.

    
      You believe you don’t have to lift a finger to get a man.

           You don’t believe in being set up by a girl friend as this takes away from the “chance encounter.”

          You don’t believe in primping yourself or making an effort to look good because your two personalities will just hit it off.

      You don’t believe in making the first move and talking to a guy you like because you think if he’s interested he’ll chat you up. As you can see, if you agree with the above statements, you have chick flick syndrome.

      You actually think some man will bump into you, say something funny that will make you say something back which will lead to more conversation and you two will hook up. It doesn’t occur to those with chick flick syndrome that relationships take work, will often hit many bumps and will usually go through tests that may strengthen or break it.

The problem I have with these syndromes is that it leaves nice girls alone and single, wondering why romance doesn’t come their way — then they conveniently blame God and say that God arranges everything.

I’m sorry, but God is busy trying to hook you up with your gal pal’s friends — if only you would quit expecting some charming guy who fits your idea of the ideal man to come rescue you from a locked tower.

Chance encounters
The girls with chick flick syndrome hang out with their girlfriends, always go to the same places and actually think someone who bumps into them will ask them for their number.

I’m sorry, but this is Malaysia, not the US. Men don’t ask for a girl’s number if they bump into you at the book store. Get real!

Ideal man
Sure it’s good to have a certain degree of expectation. But then you have unrealistic expectations like he has to be cute with boy band looks, earns a decent income with a professional job, be a jock and be intelligent as well. News alert – those guys only exist in the movies. Jocks may not be intellectuals and likewise smarts ones aren’t necessarily good looking.

Research have proven that good looking people are more confident but average looking people tend to have a more vibrant personality as they have to work harder to get friends through their humour, wit or intelligence while good looking people never have to work hard to attract attention.

Be realistic about men and learn to compromise. Real relationships are about two people willing to set aside their differences for the love of each other. No man will be perfect so stop waiting for the perfect hero.

Self primping
A lot of staunch chick flick syndrome girls do the opposite. They primp themselves and then expect some stranger to walk up to them and declare their interest in them. That’s still tolerable.
It’s the ones that don’t primp themselves yet expect some stranger to suddenly fall in love with them and ask for their number that gets to me.

Sure you should just be yourself. And if you’re a T-shirt and sports shoes kinda gal, don’t change your personal style for a man. But your dressing tells people what kind of person you are. And if you don’t care about making a good impression, don’t be surprised if people aren’t impressed.

If you are comfortable looking like a tomboy, don’t get surprised that people treat you like one. If you dress like a nun, don’t be surprised if men think you steer clear of men (and then they stay clear of you) unless they are looking for a very modest kinda girl.

More importantly, I don’t get the women who choose to dress down (love me for my personality kinda girl) who then ONLY want cute guys. Ladies, reality check — a lot of good looking people have the option of attractive people flocking to them. Also, in relationships — it’s very important that personalities and values match.

So if the men take good care in personal grooming and bother to look good, then they probably expect their women to care about their appearances too. How can you have double standards with yourself and your men? Don’t complain if the good looking ones don’t look at you if your personal grooming isn’t up to par as it’s part of a personality clash.

Cute/dashing hero syndrome
I understand that physical attraction is important. But hello, how shallow can you get? Obviously been watching too many chick flicks. Beauty lies in the eye of the beholder. Once you know him, you’ll be able to see attractive qualities in him.

That scar on his face may represent that time in the army when he rescued someone. That balding patch may represent him taking care of his cancer ridden mother. That extra pound around his waist might represent his long hard battle to overcome a genetic predisposition to being obese, which he managed to trim to only a few extra pounds.

Stop being shallow and look within. Get to know someone before deciding whether you’ll marry the guy.

You believe you don’t have to lift a finger to get a man
Sorry girls. But men have their moods and emotions too. Sometimes, he may get jealous. And you may need to coax him. You need to talk and communicate and set boundaries. It doesn’t mean that you dress in short skirts to get his attention, but if you’re sloppy and he’s not, don’t be surprised if he walks out.

The key is mutual commitment. He’s not going to chase you unless you are able to meet him halfway. Expecting him to bend to your ideal man/date/relationship is just courting disaster.
And that’s just some of the issues I have against chick flick syndrome; compressed into a few points. There is hope however. If you have this syndrome — here is the remedy:

Meet more guys — understand them for who they are, the feelings, their reasons for their actions, etc.

 Date more — have casual dates with zero expectations. Don’t pre-judge a guy.
 Make the first move — say hello to someone you like, or give him the look. This opens up possibilities.

That’s not saying you have to chase him.

Well, I hope you gals with chick flick syndrome quit watching chick flicks. Or at least understand that you’re suffering from this syndrome and try to watch the flicks without getting brainwashed by Hollywood.


January 10, 2013

Does Lifelong Monogamy Exist?


Monogamy is a tricky topic that has continued to pop up in conversation with friends over the years. In my early 20s, it didn't seem feasible. Who wanted to slam the door shut on all sorts of interesting potential partners at such a young age? Weren't we encouraged to date and explore without the pretense of a monogamous relationship? Quite often, as a 20-something, I was encouraged to date around and avoid settling down. Hadn't I all the time in the world to become someone's significant other?

I think back to those margarita/cosmopolitan/SOB-induced evenings with my girlfriends trying to piece together the mysteries around our personal lives and solve some of our most pressing issues during my university time. Issues like deciding whether or not to be exclusive with someone or determining when it's too early to use the word l-o-v-e. Truly, these were some of the most important conversations I would have in my 20s. Sharing each other's experiences helped shape my own definition of a relationship and what that means to me.

It wasn't so much that I was interested in having multiple partners. I landed in a series of relationships throughout my early 20s, albeit not all of them were monogamous or meaningful. Yet as my network of friends and colleagues grew and the conversation around monogamy continued, I eventually met people who participated in open relationships. In some cases it was strictly sexual, where the couple would invite other partners to join them in the bedroom. This seemed to be the most common scenario. With other couples, they would open their relationship right up, both sexually and emotionally.

I have nothing but respect for people who choose to conduct their personal life this way, but it does make me curious. Doesn't anyone get jealous? Is it really healthy to watch your lover carry on with another partner? Are humans truly capable of letting go and making this kind of relationship work?

A friend of mine has been in a committed, open relationship for nearly a decade. He and his partner share a loving bond, but they're both open to the other pursuing sexual relationships outside of their own. I blatantly asked my friend how she could stand it.

Didn't it bother her when her partner would pair up with another woman right in front of her? She said that she could either drive herself crazy over it, or she could choose to evolve and be open — both she and her partner — to being with other people in an open, trusted environment. She chose the latter.

In another case, a friend of mine, who married to her then boyfriend at 22 while still an undergraduate in the university decided to switch partners with another married couple. I wouldn't label them as swingers, but rather a couple exploring the boundaries of their marriage and sexual relationship. She doesn't recall feeling jealous or hurt, but in retrospect didn't feel like they had a solid marriage. They divorced a few months ago.

Whether you're up for an open relationship or prefer one partner, I don't think we'll ever really know if human beings were built for monogamy or meant to mate for life. Monogamy, to me, is an ongoing conversation you have with yourself and more importantly, with your partner.

As for me, I do not know if i will remain monogamous forever. As it stands today, I certainly intend to try. But I think that's a lot of pressure to put on any relationship. Monogamy has to be a lifelong dialogue that takes place as you grow and evolve.


November 23, 2012

Middle East Conflict;Are We REALLY Concerned for the People?


AS conflict once again erupts in Palestine, I am confronted with questions about our responses to the conflict. Why is it that Malaysian Muslims are always quick to condemn Israeli aggression in Palestine, especially towards Gaza and slow to condemn similar aggression elsewhere?
It’s a question well worth thinking about. Why have we been quick to voice loud protests about Palestine and begin fund-raising for relief work there, and so much slower to condemn the aggressors in the Syrian conflict, or in Myanmar, Sri Lanka, Pakistan and many other countries in the world?
Do we only care when Muslims are attacked and not when people of other faiths face the same oppression?
Palestine has perhaps a special place in the hearts of Muslims because of the position of Jerusalem as the third most important city for us after Mecca and Medina. It’s also probably the longest ongoing conflict in the world and regularly features in the news.
Whether you sympathise or not, you cannot escape news about Palestine, most of which is violent and depressing.
But the most misunderstood thing about the Palestinian conflict, by both Muslims and non-Muslims, is that it is a religious war. Many people tend to forget that Palestinians are not all Muslims.
About 4% of Palestinians living mostly in the West Bank and 10% of those living in Israel are Christian. They make up about 1% of the population of Gaza.
The majority of Christian Palestinians, however, now live outside Palestine because, like their Muslim neighbours, they were forced to emigrate and into refugee camps when their lands were given to Israel in 1948. Many people do not realise for example, that Dr Hanan Ashrawy, the articulate spokesman for the late Yasser Arafat, is in fact a Christian.
That fact, that in 1948 Palestinians were forced out of their land by an exodus of Jews from Europe, is essentially what the conflict is all about. If immigrants from elsewhere take over land from people who have lived there for thousands of years, then it is bound to create conflict.
Most conflicts around the world are about land and space, rather than about faith. And when that original source of conflict is further exacerbated by more grabbing of land as well as other forms of discrimination in education, housing and jobs, then the conflict will not only continue but will escalate.
When we look at things this way, then we can see the same pattern in other parts of the world. In places like Kashmir, southern Thailand, Sri Lanka, southern Philippines, the roots of conflict are similar.
In Africa, colonial-era division of land cuts across traditional tribal lands, making people of the same tribes citizens of different countries.
The most useful way to look at these conflicts is to view them from a human rights angle. If a wrong is perpetuated on one people, then it must also hold true for all others. Therefore, if we show support for Palestinians because their land has been taken away from them, then we must surely show support for all other people whose lands have been taken away from them.
At the same time, if we show support for all other people who are subjected to violence from far superior forces, then we must surely show support for the Gazans right now, facing daily pummeling from Israeli jets and drones.
And unless we truly believe that all people should face such violence by doing absolutely nothing, then we should look with some sympathy at those who throw rocks and dispatch rockets in retaliation against much superior firepower.
The point is that there cannot be double standards on human rights. The support for Palestine from Muslims comes at least partly from a belief that nobody else cares about them. As the many demonstrations around the world show, this is not true.
There are Israelis and non-Zionist Jews who have protested against the attacks on Gaza. But we should all, regardless of religion, protest at every act of aggression towards anyone because only then can we have any credibility.
Thus while we might protest about American drones killing civilians in Afghanistan, we should also protest at the attempted murder of a teenage Pakistani girl, Malala Yousafzai, for simply wanting to go to school.
What is more, we should be offering solutions for lasting peace, instead of complaining and shouting slogans that we know ultimately will do little beyond making us feel good.
How does it help the Gazans if we go and burn a few foreign flags and then go off to gossip about local politics at the nearest nasi lemak stall?

September 30, 2012

The Deal with Sex

Not too long ago, I was browsing the home page of a local mainstream news portal. There was a small section at the side of the page featuring a list of the five “most viewed” articles at the current time. Here were the headlines of those articles, in the order of which they originally appeared:

- Maid saves boss from naked man


- Lonesome women seek lust-ing relationships


- Man exposes self in front of mistress’ house


- Paying a heavy price for e-love


- PM: Don’t idolize the bad guys

The obvious observation to make here is the fact that four out of five of the news portal’s most popular articles involve sexual elements of some form or another.

When news of a leaked video depicting a certain prominent politician having sex first leaked out earlier this year, everyone — be it the press or the public — went absolutely wild.

Mobile phones beeped incessantly as links to the video went viral via text messaging, commentaries from various politicians were splashed on the front pages of newspapers for days, and for quite a while, it was all the town talked about.

At that point, it is also interesting to note that even the earthquake disaster that struck Japan at around the same time, as well as the ensuing issues with damaged nuclear reactors, failed to warrant coverage that was nearly as extensive.

More recently, we see the latest political warfare surrounding the vicious rumours implicating the young son of a politician. Whether or not such rumours are true lie beyond the scope of this article; the point is, the sex card is played time and time again because it just works.

Indeed, news of extramarital affairs, sex rituals, and the ever-improvising modus operandi of the flesh trade, never fails to grab headlines [and public attention].

Everyone seems to love talking about sex. We appear to be fascinated by the idea, and eagerly lap up the spicy offerings that the media dishes out to us on a daily basis.

The media cannot be entirely blamed for their extensive coverage on such news. Why?

The public wants to read about sex.

Sex stirs controversy. Sex is sensational. Sex sells.

It is probably not unreasonable to say that the values embraced by a particular society can be reflected in its interests and its reaction to certain events. An optimist would suggest that this means we care very much about marital faithfulness and respecting the dignity and autonomy of women. This might also indicate a strong public disapproval of the dirty flesh trade.

We therefore exhibit interest in such news because we feel very strongly about these values and issues; it is a manifestation of our attempts to safeguard these values.

A cynic, on the other hand, might say that such keen interest is merely propelled by sheer curiosity. From the cynic’s point of view, everything can simply be explained by twisted curiosity for sex and other tabloid news of the sort.

He may laugh at the optimist’s assertion that this is merely our response in defending noble values, and derisively point at the sexist remarks uttered by some of our MPs to counter the optimist. Worse still, he sees that the very fact that such happenings are rampant breaks down any argument of that line.

If we are tired of seeing the sex card being played and thrown about for cheap political mileage, and headlines of the latest sex scandal unnecessarily dominating the front pages [as well as the talk of the town!] when we could be focusing our attentions on more pressing matters, perhaps it is high time we reshape our priorities and do a little soul-searching with regards to the values we hold dear.

Do we really just have a tabloid-ish curiosity? Or has this always been about protecting our values that we care so much about — values of being faithful, of not being promiscuous, and of respecting women? If it is the latter, can we strive to behave consistently with these values? Do we live up to the very standards that we purport to adhere to?

The cynic, in the meantime, continues chuckling as he flips through the daily papers, splashed with colourful news of MPs making scathing sexist comments, of people blaming rape victims themselves for getting raped, and of unfaithful husbands being caught in the act by their angry wives.

“We care about these values? What values?” The cynic asks.

This is surely depressing news for all of us!

The Virtue of "I Don't Know"


 “Why is the sky blue?”“Where do people go when they die?”“Where do I come from?”

Kids are born as natural scientists. They love to ask these sorts of questions ― something you would realise from spending some time with them.They are inquisitive, and they love to find out how things work. Most importantly, they are not afraid to bombard you with questions constantly.

The same cannot be said for us adults. We are too lazy to ask, or rather, we just can’t be bothered. We are no longer those naturals, as we were when younger.I believe kids are natural scientists because they are not afraid to confess, to say these three words: “I DON’T KNOW.” 

This is not the case with most adults. It is ingrained in our minds that saying “I don’t know” is a weakness.So here’s the thing I would like to propose, as a way to keep this inquisitive nature as we grow up: Let us say “I don’t know” more often.

The words “I don’t know” become a negative thing quite early in our lives. When young kids ask a lot of questions, we find them cute. We encourage them, we entertain them. The moment they reach school-going age though, that’s when it stops being cute.

People do not take to questioners kindly, especially some teachers. An education system (like the one we currently have in Malaysia) that puts emphasis on rote learning, repetitions to drive home points, and memorising ― do not do well with questions.Questions are disruptive. They are distractions. Questions waste time. So we expect our students to just know their stuff, preferably by themselves.

This attitude, I believe, has its roots in religion, or to be exact, in religious teachings. This is especially true of the three Abrahamic religions: Judaism, Christianity, and Islam as well as others as Hinduism and Buddhism.

When was the last time one was expected, or allowed to question religion? Pity the inquisitive student who wanted to know how Muhammad ever cleaved the moon, or how it was possible for Jesus to be born of a virgin, or what sorcery Moses used to part the Red Sea.

Religion favours simple, authoritative answers. Questions like “how did the universe start?” and “what happened to the dinosaurs?” are more likely to be swiped aside with definitive answers such as “only God knows,”

This method might work well to teach religion, but not for topics that require independent thought, and critical reasoning. It certainly does not work well in breeding curiosity.

Some people will find these simple, authoritative answers to be very comforting. As for me, I think it’s an easy way out. It’s a lazy way of avoiding questions that we find too challenging for ourselves.

If I were to ask myself, “How did the universe start?”, well I’ll be damned... I know somewhat about the Big Bang, but what happened before? I, frankly, don’t know.And that’s the truth.Herein lies the virtue of saying “I don’t know”, because the opposite, at most times — is to bullshit, a dangerous act which can be worse than simply lying.

In his book, the appropriately-named “On Bullshit”, philosopher Harry Frankfurt explained that liars know what they say is not true. Bullshitters, on the other hand, do not care about the truth.At these times, saying “I don’t know” is the more honest step, and it might be the smarter way too. 

Saying “I don’t know” means that you will never jump to conclusions, and you are always open to different explanations. It means your opinions are not set in stone. It’s a show of willingness to listen, and learn. Saying “I don’t know” does not have to be a weakness. It is not an apology, and one does not have to be ashamed of saying it.

However, to make it work, “I don’t know” must not be accompanied by the bliss of being ignorant. To turn it into something positive, I suggest, every time we say “I don’t know”, we follow it up with “I will find out.”


“How did the universe start?”
“What happened to the dinosaurs?”
“Well, I don’t know, but I will find out.”

This way, you change an expression of defeat, into a drive to better yourself. This is certainly not easy work, but it will be very much worth it when one discovers that there are many things that one has yet to learn, and be humbled by it. Try it at least once today. 
Over time, that kid in you, that natural scientist in you, will surface again.

Francis Bacon was one of the pioneers of the scientific method, it was even called Baconian method back then. Here is what he had to say, which I think sums this up perfectly:

“If a man will begin with certainties, he shall end in doubts, but if he will be content to begin with doubts, he shall end in certainties.”

Tradition, Anyone?



I was in both the English and Malay debate teams in high school. I got the impression that the teachers invited me to join the respective teams not so much because of my oratory skills, which were probably only decent, but mainly because I was fiercely willing to argue the hell out of things back then.

Win or lose was simply not much of a priority. And of course there was the small matter of getting to meet equally smart students (boys, mainly) during debate tournaments (There were not much intelligent boys in my school then).

My first assignment when leading an English debate team was this topic — “Traditions are a waste of time” — and we were the proposing team.

I still vividly remember our debate team teacher laughing her head off when we were given the topic a few days before the tournament started. My friends and I were like headless chickens!
Being only 16 and raised around the usual (typical) Indian environment of "girls are not suppose to do this" and all sorts of other traditions, having to be the proposers for a topic like this quite simply boggled the mind. I couldn’t remember the arguments I used!

I did put up a good fight because even though our team lost I still managed to get the Best Speaker award — I told you I loved to argue. And yes, we were up against a team of smart and good looking boys from Malay College Kuala Kangsar, so maybe we got soft?

Anyway, that was when I was an innocent 16-year-old kid. After living 9 more years and having seen quite a bit more of the world and such, I’m not quite sure whether I’d be as apprehensive about proposing such a topic anymore.

Not that I’m saying that all traditions are a waste of time. They are a part of who we are whether we like it or not, especially for us Malaysians, but there are a few things that have the potential to do more harm than good now that the world’s drastically changing.

Let’s just take our general prudishness about anything related to sex, for example. We keep on shaking our heads at the ever-increasing cases of abandoned babies and are still blaming loose morals amongst the young for this unfortunate phenomenon.

We have this unreasonable expectation (or delusion?) that our young ones are all angelic and innocent, and should be protected from "dirty" things, so talking about sex with our kids is just a big no-no.

But seriously, when kids these days can freely watch things like "The Hills" or "Gossip Girl" on TV, can we seriously expect them not to get curious and not emulate what they see on TV?

Yes, tradition dictates that we should all be chaste and such, but it’s fairly obvious that kids these days are doing "it." Blaming loose morals or anything else along those lines is not going to change anything.

It would be a lot more helpful if parents (and the people that parents look up to, like religious personalities etc) were to stop being so delusional and at least consider more realistic damage limitation measures.

Talk to kids about sex. It’s way more dangerous for them to learn about sex from watching porn (which I’m pretty sure is how most of us Malaysians got our first sexual "education") than to learn about it from their parents.

You can of course remind or warn them not to do it, but at the very least you can let them know that if they are going to do it anyway to at least be safe about it.

Our traditional and dogged refusal to openly discuss sex may be silly, but it can and has led to problems, not just teenage pregnancies. We have seen the rise of AIDS amongst married women and their children, passed on to them by ignorant and unthinking husbands who have unprotected sex with prostitutes, and perhaps with other men.

And we all know how bad we Malaysians treat people with AIDS. I’ve actually read statements made by clerics in the national newspapers to not blame husbands (let alone refuse them) for wanting to have unprotected sex – because it feels better.

Don’t even get me started about the traditional place that women are expected to be in here in Malaysia, or how we are supposed to feel beholden to everyone, be it our elders and even our government, for I can write a way longer essay on each and every one of these topics. So yes, some traditions are a waste of time. What say you?

December 31, 2011

PS I Love You

I can't remember exactly how many times I was crying over the novel PS I Love You authored by Cecelia Ahern and when the novel was made into motion picture, I was also one of the earliest to catch it in the theatres.

The short review is that this book is amazing.
The longer review would consist of me rambling on and on about the strength, quality, and message of this novel and its ability to transgress overseas into the States with ease.
I’ll try to stay somewhere in the middle.
Set entirely in Ireland, Holly has recently lost her husband to an unforeseen brain tumour. In the course of a year, she received letters written by Gerry, that he had written before he passed away. These letters help give Holly the strength to get back on her feet and slowly reassemble her life, and are able to move on from this tragic loss and find joy and happiness. She manages to do with the help of her family, and close friends, while making some new friends along the way.
What I love about the book and it was Ahern’s first novel in case you were wondering, is her ability to exactly pin-point the emotions, thoughts and fears that someone in mourning goes through. It’s never easy losing someone you love, and it’s less easy trying to deal with those emotions when trying to prove to your support system that you really are doing fine, especially when you are not. This book will probably be a code of conduct for anyone who has lost someone very special in their lives. Ahern manages to eloquently and accurately address the issues of coping and going back to a normal life.
Ahern writes “They were just formalities, something else to check off the “things that normal people do” list. None of these things filled the hole in her heart” (p 382), in regards to finding a job, and getting her life organized again.
The question of what is normal is a strong theme in this book. How can a person go back to a normal life, when they only life they knew revolved around the one person that is no longer there? You can’t go back to a normal life. You have to start your life all over again, from the very beginning, and that is not an easy thing to do, and that is Holly’s struggle throughout the entire book. Finding her life, her way without Gerry. It’s an emotional struggle, and one I can understand and relate to very well.
My review of the movie will be pretty short. I liked the adaptation from the book. So much of the book was altered and deleted for the movie, but it still didn’t change the message, the essence, and the heart of the book. It was very clear and I honestly like both. They help fill in the gaps for each other. The movie gave Gerry a form, a life. He was otherwise non-existent in the book. While you could feel that he was a strong character, a strong presence in the lives of those around him, it was really the movie that made the viewer cry for his loss. It was the book that helped define Holly and show us how she really changed and learned to evolve without Gerry in her life.
So much for my promise of trying to keep this review short. It’s a beautiful book, and I really encourage anyone who hasn’t, to pick it up.

December 27, 2011

Wedding Songs

I think wedding dinners are dull because all one does is sit there and eat a tonne of food while the newlyweds parade around looking married. It’s slightly more tolerable if you’re a close relative/friend because you’re celebrating with people you know and care about, but if you’re just a girlfriend of a distant cousin’s pet rabbit, the message they’re sending out by inviting you to their wedding dinner is “Get stuffed, we’re married.”

This experience would at least be a little more bearable if they put some effort into choosing the music they play during the dinner. I was at a wedding recently where they played “Lady in Red” while the bride walked down the aisle in a red dress. That’s about as original as playing Michael Jackson’s “Black or White” at a Chindian wedding.

If any thought had been put into that choice (which I doubt), they would have realised it was a bad one. Chris De Burgh (who wrote the song) said it was inspired by his wife Diane, as well as men who can’t remember what their wives were wearing when they first met them.

So if you’re going to play this song at your wedding, don’t be too surprised when he forgets your anniversary and has an affair with the 19-year-old nanny while you’re in hospital recovering from a horse riding accident.

Another one that’s quite popular is that “Two Is Better Than One” song. I know some women find it romantic, but I can’t see why. The lyrics are “Maybe it’s true I can’t live without you, maybe two is better than one”, and it’s by a band called Boys Like Girls.

This is a song which conceals “You are not enough but I’m too much of a jerk to tell you that so let's get married” behind the thin veil of “I’m no good without you.” So girls, if your man has convinced you this is romantic, you need to get the hell out of there and have your head checked.

“I Will Survive” is a song that people like to play when dessert is served. I honestly do not understand this because everyone, women especially, should know that it’s a song about a break-up. So why would anyone choose to play this song at their wedding? Because they are secretly gay, that’s why.

Over the years, “I Will Survive” has been used a lot by gay rights movements, and HIV/AIDS awareness programmes. In fact, it is practically the anthem at gay bars and clubs. Also, the version most popular is the original by a certain Gloria GAYnor. Gosh, it’s so blatant!

So those of you who are getting married soon should be very careful when choosing wedding songs for the sake of your guests and yourselves. Personally, I think you should refrain from love songs and choose neutral tunes such as “Who Let the Dogs Out” by The Bahamen.

In fact, you should get a bunch of stray dogs, have them cleaned and neutered, and release them while that song is playing. Get the MC to announce that these are party favours in an effort to limit the number of strays from being put down by the authorities willy-nilly. This will encourage compassion and help build the self-esteem of the dogs.

That’s just one suggestion. The possibilities are endless. Give me a shout if you need help planning your wedding. I am also available for birthdays and christenings.

Malaysian Drivers


We are united in our contempt for other Malaysian drivers. Lane cutting, double parking, overtaking from the wrong side, not using the indicators, abusing the emergency lanes — the list of transgressions is endless. It’s almost as if the sole use of rules is to show how little we care for them.

Our collective chest-beating in the media on this issue clearly does not seem to have any impact on this recalcitrant lot among us. Even the disastrous consequences of bad driving in terms of fatalities and more seem to leave no mark on us. The causes bandied about for this demon that turns an otherwise gentle Malaysian soul into an aggressive, bullying, road rage-spewing cowboy or Mat Rempit are almost as many as the rules broken.

Lack of education, corruption in obtaining driving licences, disregard for the rights of others, lack of penalties and lack of enforcement, increased pace of life; take your pick. Solutions are offered, regarded and disregarded, and the next time we have a narrow escape on the roads, we just sigh “Malaysian drivers” and carry on.

Maybe there is another way to look at this phenomenon. The automobile, whether on two or four wheels, is a uniquely personal object. We name them, they belong to one person and we look after them almost like they are people. In many ways they are an extension of our personalities. You only need to look at the colours, the modifications, the stickers or the soft toys at the back to make a judgement on the character of the owner.

When we ride them, they become a place where normal societal rules do not apply. We pick our noses in them, eat in them in a way which would make our grandmothers turn in their graves, listen to music in them at a volume guaranteed to turn the neighbourhood deaf if it was at home and generally let loose from the constraints of society. Our private selves come to the fore. And yes, drive as if the rules do not apply to us.

However, when there are colleagues in the car or an aged aunt riding pillion, we modify our behaviour accordingly. Now our public selves are on display. The music is at a discreet volume playing politically correct bands; we use the indicators more often and wave other, more impatient drivers past.

Of course there are exceptions to this as in when a group of young testosterone-fuelled riders go out of their way to break the rules together. But in actual fact, they are conforming to the rules of their in group at the cost of disregarding the rules of society as a whole.

At a certain age, being cool in the eyes of a desirable peer group is much more important than conforming to the laws of the land. But in the main, automobiles are an intensely personal space in which to daydream, throw off the shackles and be who we really are when nobody is looking.

If we are really concerned about our behaviour on the roads, unfortunately the solution lies in making society and the norms of civilised behaviour intrude more and more into this perceived personal space. 

Countries around the world are doing precisely that when they increase visible police presence on the roads, install marked speed traps, have choppers whirring overhead, and encourage citizens to report violations. The idea is to make the driver aware that they are not alone in the automobile. Society in the form of the police and attendant fines are riding with them.

When driving is a completely uniform, public act with no room for self expression through our “style” of driving, the roads will be safer. Of course, that is when nostalgia for the days of driving for pleasure will kick in.

Remember when the front seats of cars were sofas, seemingly expressly designed for making out in while driving?

Jack and the Beanstalk (2011 Version)


There was once a poor widow who had an only son named Jack. He was so lazy that he never did any work, never went to school, and, rather unfortunately, never really took a bath. As time went by, they became poorer and poorer.

One fine summer’s day, Jack’s mother decided to send him to the market to sell their cow, which was their only possession in the world. The cow was no longer giving them milk, having been, well, milked dry since time immemorial.

So really, the cow was a bit like an oil company whose reserves — be it physical barrels of crude oil or cash — had been sucked dry without enough money being reinvested to find replacement reserves for future sustainability.

Jack set out to town to sell the cow but he had not gone very far when he met an old man.

“Where are you going with that cow, young man?” asked the old man.

“I am going to the market to sell the old cow,” Jack replied.

“Well, this is your lucky day,” said the old man, “for I will gladly take her off your hands in exchange for these five magic beans. If you plant them, they will grow as high as the sky by tomorrow morning.”

Although initially skeptical, Jack finally decided this was a fair exchange, as it meant he could go home right away and spend the rest of the day playing “Farmville” and “Mafia Wars” on Facebook.

The old man gave Jack the magic beans, which he put neatly in a biodegradable plastic bag [1]. Jack promptly filled in a Change of Ownership form and surrendered the ownership of the family domestic cattle to the old cow. I mean old man.

Jack ran back his house as fast as he could. “Look mother!” he said excitedly, “I’ve disposed of our cow in exchange for these amazing beans!”

“Wow! That’s actually pretty good,” said his mother, looking rather astonished. “What are the terms? Are they sukuk or conventional bonds? What about the maturity period? Does this mean you have to embark on a road show for investor briefings?”

Jack sighed and carefully explained to his slightly deaf mother, “I said ‘beans’, mother, not ‘bonds’. I got these magic beans in exchange for the old cow.”

“Holy cow!” said his mother, clearly horrified. “You are not only stupefyingly lazy but also unbelievably stupid,” she said as she snatched the beans from his hand and threw them out of the window.

His mother was so furious that later in the evening Jack was sent to bed without any supper. This was just as well, since there was hardly ever any food in the house anyway. After tossing and turning for half an hour, Jack still couldn’t sleep and he decided to go the pub instead, where he ordered the finest lager in the house and drank himself silly.

Jack stumbled back to his house in the wee hours of the morning and slept until almost noon. He woke up with a mild hangover and he was not sure where he was. His room was unusually dark, and when he opened the curtains he saw huge leaves and flowers of assorted colours covering his window. He dressed himself quickly and ran downstairs into the garden.

Jack could not believe his eyes. Just outside the window where his mother had thrown the magic beans there grew a mighty beanstalk reaching towards the sky. It was taller than the Twin Towers (minus the aesthetics) and definitely taller than Burj Dubai (minus the financial meltdown). In fact, the beanstalk was so tall that the top of it was hidden in the clouds.

Jack wasted no time and began to climb up the beanstalk, and it was, without any doubt, a clear breach of safety regulations, as he was not wearing a harness. He climbed higher than the tree tops, higher than the clouds until he reached the blue sky and stepped out into a small town where the streets have no name [2]. He walked along a straight road, hoping to find a place where he could beg for some food, as he was very hungry by this time [3].

To his delight, he came to a castle, which looked a lot like a house of a certain politician, which Jack had seen some time ago in Selangor. There was a very large woman standing at the door, lighting up a Marlboro [4].

“Good morning,” he said politely. “Would you be so kind as to give me something to eat?”

“Does this place look like a bloody deli to you?” asked the large woman, looking patently annoyed.

“I think you had better bugger off as fast as you can,” continued the woman, “unless you want to become lunch yourself. My husband is an ogre who loves nothing better than fried little boys on toast for appetisers.”

Jack was too hungry to run back along the road, so he pleaded with the fat woman to give him something to eat. “I am not going to leave until, urm, the fat lady sings. And you can always hide me from your husband when he comes,” said Jack.

Now the Ogre’s wife was the sort of woman who was actually kind at heart despite her uncanny resemblance to a British bulldog. She took Jack in and gave him some bread and milk, which he gobbled up in record time. He had only just finished eating when suddenly he heard the Ogre’s thumping footsteps walking down the road.

The large woman grabbed Jack and hid him in the oven as the Ogre came into the kitchen and roared at the top of his voice, “What’s its name… I smell the blood of a human being! It’s the distinct smell of rotten cabbage — a Manchester City fan, he must be! Be he alive, or be the dead, I’ll grind his bones to make my bread!”

“Oh don’t be stroppy and sit you down at the dining table while I prepare some food,” said the woman. “Been hanging out with the lads again, haven’t ya Harry? All these drunken nonsense about always smelling humans and smelly football fans — will I ever hear the end of it now?”

Jack peeped out of his hiding place and was terrified to see what a huge, ugly monster the Ogre was. The monster kept picking his nose while wolfing down the buffet spread on the table as if he was at a Malaysian Hari Raya open house.

As soon as he finished his food, the Ogre called to his wife, “Bring me my bags of gold!” She rolled her eyes, cleared the table and put the gold in front of him.

There the Ogre sat counting and counting the coins until his eyelids began to droop. The sound of coins seemed to have had a calming effect on him (or maybe it was the lamb biryani he had earlier) and his head nodded slowly down and rested on the table.

He fell fast asleep, snoring so loudly that people on the earth below thought they heard a thunderstorm. Now Jack knew that thunderstorms were actually caused by ogres snoring and nothing to do with millions of droplets of water vapour suspended in the atmosphere in large, unstable cumulonimbus that produces lightning, rainfall, winds, hail or tornados [5].

When Jack peeped out and saw all the gold, he knew that it was his big chance. He crept out of the oven, tiptoed past the sleeping Ogre, and grabbed one of the bags of gold. He ran away from the castle as fast as his legs would carry him, doing his best Usain Bolt impression, until he reached the top of the beanstalk. He climbed down through the green leaves until he reached his own little garden again.

“Mother, look what I have brought you from the top of the beanstalk!” Jack cried to his mother. He emptied the bag of gold coins onto the kitchen table while he regaled his mother with his adventures in Ogreland. Needless to say, the poor widow was pleased to see her son again and the fact that they had money to buy all they needed.

One morning many moons after Jack’s first foray up the beanstalk, Jack took out the bag and saw that there was not much gold left. By this time, Jack and his mother already owned a pretty diversified and healthy portfolio of investments in Amanah Saham Bumiputra (ASB), unit trusts, fixed deposit and also condominiums, which they bought to generate rent income. But these were really longer-term investments. His immediate concern was the lack of liquidity, as their cash reserves was running a little low.

So Jack decided to climb the beanstalk again. He disguised himself so that the large woman at the castle would not recognise him, and once again she let him in and gave him some food.
The Ogre later returned to the castle and this time Jack hid in a huge copper pot. Then he (the Ogre, not Jack) called his wife to bring him his golden hen, which the wife then placed on the table.

“Lay!” roared the Ogre, and the hen laid an egg of solid gold. “Lay another!” and the hen laid an even larger golden egg. Jack’s eyes popped out of his head as he watched golden eggs popping out of the hen’s arse. He immediately began scheming how to steal the hen from the Ogre.

Soon, the Ogre fell asleep at the table. Jack climbed out of the copper pot and grabbed the Ogre’s arse. I mean the Ogre’s golden hen.

The hen started to squawk as Jack bolted out of the door, and the Ogre woke up with a start. The Ogre was a little groggy and he looked around the dining area like a hippo on tranquiliser. 

After a few seconds, he realised that the hen was not on the table. He looked out of the window and he saw Jack with his prize bird under his arm, doing a Forrest Gump down the straight road and heading towards the beanstalk.

The Ogre chased after Jack with huge strides, and for the people in the world below, it felt like an earthquake measuring 6.0 on the Richter scale. Even though Jack was running faster that he had ever run in his life, the Ogre was almost upon him when Jack reached the beanstalk [6].

The Ogre reached out his hand to grab Jack and retrieve his precious hen, but Jack slipped nimbly down the beanstalk. The Ogre paused for a few moments because (a) he has acrophobia and (b) he wondered if the plant would carry his weight.

After much hesitation, he gingerly stepped onto the beanstalk and began to climb slowly after Jack. The beanstalk began to sway and creak, and there was no way on earth that the Ogre’s manoeuvre could have been HSE-compliant. In fact, it breached at least 25 separate OSHA regulations, and Jack, realising this, went even faster.

When Jack reached his garden he called out, “Quick, mother! Get me an axe, mother!”

His mother came out running with a chainsaw in her hands, the type you may have see on Tim Allen’s “Home Improvements”, which she just bought at Argos [7]. Everything went John-Woo-slow-motion as Jack handed the golden hen to his mother, kick-started the chainsaw and began cutting the mighty beanstalk. It swayed and creaked and then it fell with a tremendous crash!

The Ogre fell onto the ground and sustained serious injury. There were no paramedics, no hot doctors like they do in “Grey’s Anatomy” [8] to give him immediate medical attention. Some passers-by tried to help but there was nothing they could have done to save the Ogre.

Jack and his mother lived hopefully ever after, and the golden hen brought them untold riches. Curiously enough, the hen never suffered from a sore arse despite laying eggs all the time, now that Jack and his mother had a rather expensive lifestyle to maintain.

Jack later spent the bulk of his fortune on the stock market and became heavily involved in commodities and speculative trading, and he was rumoured to be one of the main culprits behind the collapse of Lehman Brothers and AIG in the 2008 global financial meltdown.

Notes:
[1] With EcoPLUS 105, a high density polyethylene (HDPE) by PETRONAS.
[2] Sorry, I couldn’t resist the U2 plug.
[3] He woke up too late for the McDonald’s breakfast meal.
[4] Kids, smoking is bad for your health.
[5] As you can see kids, there’s a lot of science behind my stories.
[6] Classic Tom & Jerry stuff, really.
[8] Yes folks, no Meredith, no Izzie, and no McDreamy. Shocking!